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“I said turn around and put your hands over your heads!” Lavon shouted again.

“This is bullshit!” Ellington said. She turned and placed her hands over her head. Davis did the same.

“Turn around and place your hands on your head!” Josh told Cleaver.

“Will you wait just a goddamned minute!” Cleaver shouted. “I am Internal Affairs, and you’re interfering in some serious police business!”

“I’m FBI, and I say you have no business being a police officer!” Josh told him. “Now stop resisting, before I have Phil shoot you!”

“We have suspects inside!” Cleaver shouted. “And a damn gun just went off!”

“The real cops will take care of it!” Josh told him. “Now turn around!”

“You fucking asshole! They’re escaping around the back!” Cleaver shouted.

Josh drew his weapon.

“You going to let them fucking escape!” Cleaver shouted. He pulled away from Josh and began running.

Josh holstered his pistol and chased Cleaver, tackling him by the side of the building. The other agents quickly came to Josh’s assistance. They manhandled Cleaver into submission and handcuffed him.

“They’re getting away!” Cleaver shouted. “Agent, let me talk to you in private! I have a deal for you that you can’t resist!”

Josh turned to Phil. “Go and listen to his deal, and then add attempting to bribe a federal agent to his charges.”

Phil laughed and headed off to the SUV, where the other agents were shoving Cleaver inside. Lavon walked up to Josh.

“And what are we going to do about them?” she asked, nodding toward the storage facility.

Josh shrugged. “Not our business, Lavon. Not our business. We’re here to bust some crooked cops.”

Lavon lifted an eyebrow. “There’s a lot of money in there that somebody is getting away with.”

“It’s her money, and judging from the things that have happened to her, she deserves it. Hey, Lavon, I get my jollies fucking over the big guy, not the little ones.” Josh walked to the front of the building and stared up at it. “You better run, girl. And you better take that money, and you better do something with it. Do something good with it.”

A patrolman walked out of the storage unit building.

“Find anything?” Josh asked.

“Two bodies. The night clerk and an unidentified black man,” the officer told him.

“Anybody else?”

The officer shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Call Detective Curtis Miles from Homicide,” Josh told the officer. “Tell him that in all probability, I’ve got the murder suspect that he’s been searching for lying dead in there.”

The officer nodded and headed for his patrol car.

“Wow, we saved the day, huh?” Lavon asked.

“We sure did. Good work, agent,” Josh told her. He pulled her close and wrapped his arm around her. “C’mon, let’s get outta here. Buy you a hot cup of coffee.”

“And a doughnut?” Lavon asked, as if the coffee just wasn’t enough.

“Sprinkles?”

“Yeah, sprinkles.”

And That’s All, Folks

One Year Later

The water was absolutely postcard perfect. It looked as though someone had clicked a button on a computer and chosen the perfect color blue for a brochure ad. Royal blue faded into aquamarine see-through water, breathtaking, simply beautiful, just a few shades darker than the cloudless baby-blue sky sitting above it. Gena couldn’t believe she was back where it all started: The Valiant Hotel on Paradise Island in the Grand Bahamas.

Palm trees swayed gently in the soft breeze, moderating the temperate Caribbean climate even more. The weather was a perfect seventy-seven degrees, while beneath the white silk canopies it felt as though it was no higher than seventy.

All of the guests were dressed in white. The women wore white cotton beach gowns, while the gentlemen all wore white cotton shirts and pants. All of the guests wore sandals, as the ceremony was being held on the white-sand beach. White gardenia floral arrangements were arrayed around the canopy and the tables and chairs beneath it. Eighteen white doves that had been imported from Europe sat in cages around the beach, waiting to be released at the conclusion of the nuptials.

Gena sat alone in a small dressing room. Everything was perfect, there was no detail left unfinished, nothing more to do. The day had dawned with a perfect, sunny, cloudless sky, and who could ask for more? Gena thought back to the night she met Quadir in Harlem on 125th Street in front of the Mart 125. Who could have known; who could have guessed? They had been through the fire together and had made it without getting burned.

A gentle knock at the door brought Gena out of her reverie.

“Come in,” she said as she watched a tall, handsome man, wearing a tuxedo and looking like a million bucks, stick his head around the door. “Daddy, come here, Daddy,” said Gena, her arms reaching out for the father she had never known.

“You look like a princess,” Malcolm said, his eyes beginning to water. “I don’t know if I can do this, Gena, all those people out there and all.”

“Daddy, you’ll be fine; I’m going to hold your hand and we’re going to walk together just like we did last night at rehearsal.” Gena smiled reassuringly.

“I wish your mama could see you,” said Malcolm, seeing his wife in his daughter’s smile.

“I know, Dad, I know. Listen…” said Gena, taking her father’s hands into her own and staring up into his big strong brown eyes. “We can’t change the past, but we can change where we go from here, from now on. It’s okay. My mother’s not here; the only thing that matters to me is that… you are, you’re here. And I’m so, so grateful for this day.”

“Baby girl, you think you’re grateful. Them white folks had me locked up so long, I don’t know if I’m coming or going, and I know that I don’t have much…” Malcolm stopped for a minute, to clear his throat, “but I’d give my life for you, Gena, I’d give my right arm for you to have this day.”

“Oh, Daddy, I love you,” she said, embracing her father.

“I love you too, baby girl; I love you too.”

“Hey, whatch’all doin’ in here?” asked Michael, peeking through the partially open door. “Wow, Gena, look at you. You must be the most beautiful bride I ever laid my two eyes on.”

“She sure is,” said Malcolm.

“Uncle Michael,” said Gena, running over to her uncle.

“It’s been a rough couple of years, but you weathered the storm. You and Quadir have nothing but smooth seas ahead,” he said, with his hands firmly on Gena’s shoulder. “I pray God blesses your union today and for the rest of your lives,” said Michael, congratulating her.

“Oh, Uncle Michael, you’re going to make me cry too. Look, my makeup, y’all,” said Gena, making her way over to the mirror for one last glance.

“You okay, brother man,” said Michael gripping his older brother’s hand and hugging him.

“Yeah, I’m here. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m here.”

“Hey, don’t worry; I got you, man,” said Michael.

“Seriously, though, I think I need to take you up on that offer. I can’t walk her down this aisle, man.”

Michael looked at his brother and then down at his watch, “Okay, guys, let’s go, let’s make time.”

Holding a bouquet of white roses in her hand, Gena stepped out into the hallway and found her wedding party all lined up, waiting and ready to make that walk.

Everybody was there, not one person had been left out. Viola walked over to Gena and kissed the side of her face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful bride.”

“Thank you, Viola, for everything.”

Viola lined up the wedding party, nodded with approval toward Gena, and gave the cue for the music to begin. The groomsmen and the bridesmaids took their places at the altar; the flower girls and the tiny ring bearer walked down the red carpet next. Viola took her seat next to Montel and her daughter, Denise, just as the bride appeared at the doorway.