Up From The Deep Vaughn Jackson (book club suggestions TXT) 📖

against his jacket pocket. “That...is my work phone. It could be important. Do you mind if I—”

Lieutenant Johnson waved his hand to say, “Go ahead”.

Devonte had taken to the staring contest that the female officer initiated. He lost several times as Raymond carried on his conversation.

After the seventh loss, Raymond said, “I’d love to come right in, but I’m currently about to be stopped and frisked, so I’ll be in as soon as that is done with.”

Lieutenant Johnson scowled, wrinkles etching dark lines across his face.

“You’d like to speak to the officer,” Raymond said, ignoring the change in demeanor. “I’ll see if he would like to speak to you.”

“Give me the damn phone,” Johnson said. Devonte half expected him to growl about being too old for this shit. His eyes narrowed as he spoke to whoever was on the other end of the phone. He argued a bit, but the conversation ended with an exceptionally irritated, “Yes, ma’am.”

He snapped the phone shut, and tossed it at Raymond, who caught it with a sly look. “So, am I free to go?”

“You are.”

Officer McGee stared at her partner in shock. “We can’t just—”

Johnson held up a hand. “But the boy is being detained. He was the one who was reported as suspicious, and this is our jurisdiction, not yours.”

Devonte felt his heart freeze. He willed himself not to break into a run.

Without missing a beat, Raymond responded, “You can’t detain him without detaining me. He is my partner, and is just as needed where I am going as I am.” His face turned from sly to defiant, and he crossed his arms across his chest. “Now I’ve been quite patient with you two, but it’s wearing thin now that you’re impeding my job. You know, international security?” He began tapping his foot.

Lieutenant Johnson glared down at the adamant detective. Devonte thought of the old spaghetti westerns he would watch with his dad as a child. He wondered if either man would actually draw on the other.

The lieutenant grumbled and looked at his watch. “I don’t have time for this. I’m supposed to meet the wife for lunch. Let’s go, McGee.” He turned and headed back to the cruiser.

McGee relaxed. The scowl Devonte swore was permanent melted away. “Sorry for the hassle,” she said, and climbed into the passenger side seat.

It was all a tough cop act, Devonte thought. He became painfully aware of the sweat that had soaked through his shirt. They watched the cruiser pull away and turn at the nearest intersection.

“You just lied to the police,” Devonte said.

“The police always lie to the police,” Raymond said. “At least when we want to actually get something done that is.”

“We’re not going to my apartment, are we?”

“I’m afraid not,” Raymond said. “But where we are going, there will be people who might be able to help us find your friend.”

Devonte breathed an internal sigh of relief. “Okay, where are we headed?”

“The Naval Base.”

And with that, Devonte wished he could take back that sigh of relief. Into the lion’s den, he thought. “How are you going to get me in?”

“That we will figure out once we get there,” Raymond said. “My car is this way.” He twirled his keys around his index finger and continued in the direction they had been walking.

#

The Camaro roared down the road. Raymond was pushing his car at least fifteen miles over the speed limit. Devonte sank into his seat and clung to what he called the “oh shit bar” above the passenger window. He was used to riding in speeding cars, but most of them didn’t have quite as much muscle as this one. His dad’s Honda could only manage a snail’s pace in comparison. When Devonte asked him about it, Raymond responded with a dismissive, “We’re in a hurry.”

“That reminds me,” Raymond said, “should you call…your parents? Girlfriend? Someone? And let them know that you’re safe.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I should.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled until he found his dad’s cell-phone number. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.

Ay, it’s Aaron. Not at the phone right now. Leave a message and I’ll hit you back, the voicemail said. Devonte hung up without leaving a message.

“No response,” he said.

“Got another number for them?” Raymond asked.

“I do, but…”

“No buts. I don’t want to get accused of kidnapping. Call.”

“Don’t boss me around like a child,” Devonte snapped.

Raymond raised his eyebrows but didn’t look away from the road.

“Sorry,” Devonte said. “I’ll call.” He took a deep breath. And dialed Alison’s number.

The phone rang. Once. Twice. Devonte prayed no one would answer. Before the third ring, a sound on the other side of the phone clicked.

“Devi, is that you?” Alison cooed over the phone.

“Hey Alison. It’s me,” Devonte said. He switched the phone to his left hand and leaned his head against the car window. “And please don’t call me Devi.”

“Oh my gosh, Devi, are you okay? Where are you?” He knew her concern was sincere, but the way she spoke made it sound fake. Devonte pictured her painting her nails or checking out her reflection as they talked. His jaw tightened.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well two FBI agents came by the house asking about you, so I figured you got yourself in trouble with all that tracking you do.” An exaggerated sigh rasped out of the speaker.

“Hacking,” Devonte corrected, then quickly added, “but I only do it on my own virtual— never mind, you said two FBI agents came by?”

Raymond gave him a curious look. He mouthed, “For real?”

“Yeah, a scrawny guy and a guy so fit it made my mouth water. Meow.” She giggled.

You’re married to my dad, you—

“Alison.” Devonte effected his most controlled voice. “What did they look like?”

“Uh, they were definitely Asian. They kept chattering to each other while I was talking to your dad on the phone.” He could picture the confused shrug she did as she spoke.

Devonte’s mind went into panic mode and he bolted up in his seat. “Are they