Gnawing his lip, Corey didn’t answer.
“Does she know anything at all about how we used to rock and roll back in the day?” Leon asked.
“Let’s keep this between us,” Corey said. “Leave my family out of it.”
Leon laughed. “Wait, wait, wait! The Webb domicile is built on a faulty foundation? How could you ask a woman for her hand in matrimony, yet not tell her the truth about yourself? I mean, seriously, what kind of man does something like that, something so deceitful, what kind of lowdown dirty dog are you that you would omit such an essential piece of vital information from the woman you claim is the love of your life?”
“Shut up!”
“Wow, you haven’t changed at all,” Leon said with what might have been a trace of surprise. “The only difference now is that you’ve bought yourself some better window dressing, that’s all, sweeter butter cream icing, the big house, the luscious wife, the precocious kid, the lucrative white-collar business, all the cozy superficial trappings of the American dream, but I know the truth about you, even if su familia doesn’t. Once a hood, always a hood.”
“I’m not like you,” Corey said firmly. “I never was.”
“Repeat that to yourself enough times, maybe you’ll start to believe it.”
“What will it take to get them back?” Corey asked.
“Five hundred thousand dollars brings the clan home safe and sound.”
Corey was speechless, convinced his ears had heard wrongly.
“Why do I suddenly hear crickets?” Leon said.
“How much?” Corey said.
“Did I stutter? Five hundred thousand.”
Breathing shallowly, Corey said, “I don’t. . I don’t have that kind of money.”
“It’s Wednesday, around eight o’clock,” Leon said. “The money’s due by close of business on Friday. Five o’clock. We’ll work out the particulars of the exchange later.”
“You’re not hearing me, Leon. I don’t have five hundred grand!”
“You’ll find a way to get it, by hook or by crook.” Leon snickered. “Hey, maybe you can rob a bank. Get your face on all the Most Wanted posters, walk a few miles in my shoes, feel my pain, deal with my struggle.”
“I can get you. . I can get you fifty thousand,” Corey said, pacing again, mind spinning. “I can get that to you by Friday, I know I can pull it together. Fifty thousand dollars. That’s a lot of money, Leon. It’ll go a long way for you.”
“The price is fifty thousand times ten.”
Corey’s head felt as though it would explode. “Listen to me, okay? I don’t have that much money. I don’t know what you think you know about me, but I don’t have half a million dollars!”
“You didn’t have the flyest new clothes and Air Jordans back when we were growing up, but that never stopped you from doing whatever was necessary to get them, did it? You know how we are, we don’t wait for a handout, we take what we want, that’s our code, that’s how it always was, and nothing’s changed-you haven’t changed-so you do what you’ve gotta go, you get me my five hundred g’s and you get it by Friday at five, no excuses, no games, no cops, better not see any cops, I got you by the balls, I got you up and down all day, hear me? No bullshit. Fail to deliver and they’ll be in the river. I mean it, you know it, and I’ve got the record to show it. Just do it-and keep this goddamn phone on at all times ’cause I’m going to be checking in with you, got it, are we clear? Are we golden?”
Numb, Corey couldn’t make his lips work to form words.
“Do you understand me, motherfucker!” Leon shouted.
“Yes,” Corey said quietly. “Loud and clear.”
“Outstanding, wonderful, superb, that’s what I wanted to hear. Now get to work.”
Click.
A tremor rattling through him, Corey placed the phone on the counter, the plastic display smudged with sweat.
He read his watch: 8:07.
The deadline was fifty-six hours away, and the clock was ticking.
Part Two
18
Panic gripping him in a vise, Corey rushed into his home office.
Control, he thought. To get his family back safely, he had to exercise self-control.
He had to stop the cold sweat oozing from his pores. Had to still his trembling hands. Slow his galloping pulse.
Simone and Jada were depending on him. He was the only one who could bring them back alive and unharmed.
Dropping into the swivel-base chair, he powered on the desktop computer and accessed the software he used to administer their household finances. The software was linked via a DSL connection to their financial institutions and provided up-to-the minute transaction and market data.
He discovered, as he’d expected, that the total sum of money he could get his hands on by the Friday deadline was far less than Leon’s ransom demand. The money in their checking and savings accounts totaled $54,972.14.
It was a handsome sum by anyone’s standards. But it left him short of the ransom by approximately four hundred and forty-five thousand dollars.
Drumming the edge of the keyboard, he stared at the screen, as if he could increase the digits exponentially through sheer force of will.
The fifty-five grand was not the extent of their holdings. They had more money invested in mutual funds, 401k’s, CDs, and a college savings plan for Jada, which, when all were totaled and added to the fifty-five thousand, came to about two hundred and fifteen thousand dollars.
A helluva lot of money. For a couple not yet forty, who’d started their family and careers without a trust fund or inheritance, he and Simone had done well, the fruits of a decade of hard work, sacrifice, saving, and investing.
But he couldn’t lay his hands on the funds by Friday afternoon, because of paperwork requirements and processing times. Glancing at the wall calendar above the computer, he estimated that the earliest he could get it all would be the middle of next week, if not later.
And it still would not be sufficient to ransom his family, not by half. As successful as they’d been, it wasn’t enough to save them.
He pushed out of the chair, paced across the room. Had to think. Think.
Equity. They had equity in their home. Nearly a hundred thousand dollars’ worth, according to an appraisal they’d had done last fall.
But a home equity transaction would take weeks to process, and since he jointly owned the house with Simone, he would need her signature on any loan paperwork.
And it still would fall far short of the mark.
He collapsed back into the chair and cradled his head in his hands.
What the hell was Leon thinking? Why was he so convinced that Corey could raise half a million dollars in two days?
Hey, maybe you can rob a bank. . once a hood, always a hood.
God help him, Corey actually began to visualize how he might pull off such a crime. He had a gun. He had a car. There were an abundance of bank branches within a short distance of their home.
Write a note, walk into the lobby, pass the demand to the teller. Show the gun so they know you’re serious. No one has to get hurt.
He shook his head. No. Besides the fact that bank tellers probably kept nowhere near the amount of money he needed in their drawers, he could never do something like that, simply on principle. He wasn’t a criminal-he’d long since left behind that life.
Perhaps that was what Leon wanted, though. To reel him back into the chasm. The old crabs-in-a-barrel syndrome. Leon maybe was furious that Corey had chosen a different path and was determined to destroy everything he had earned.