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CHAPTER 1

“Purpose. What is my purpose in this life?” Dr. Montgomery Quinn whispered to himself.

He opened his eyes and emerged from his meditative state just in time to see Jovan Givens cruise around the semi-circular drive at the end of Hains Point park. He pulled up to the curb and slowly rolled his scarlet Corvette to a stop. Montgomery admired it from a distance as the sun made the paint glisten like a large ruby stone.

The chrome rims shimmered from the polished finish. Jovan loved that car as much for the color as for the speed. He lived for the second looks he got driving through the city. The personalized license plate that read CMYVETT helped get your attention if you somehow failed to see the blaring color or hear the roaring engine.

Jovan slowly exited the car and began walking toward Montgomery, eyes cast downward and hands in the pockets of his blue khakis. His frame bulged through the wrinkled turquoise body shirt as he walked, leaning forward like someone facing gale force winds. His dark, bald head reflected the sun as much as his car rims.

Montgomery had unwrapped his long frame from the Lotus position and already begun walking towards him. Wiping the beads of perspiration from his caramel colored skin, he put on his glasses and noticed Jovan’s defeatist posture. They grabbed hands and embraced in a firm hug.

“Had a rough weekend, huh?” said Montgomery.

“Brother, you just don’t know,” said Jovan, looking directly into Montgomery’s eyes. “I’ve got her this time Monty.”

Here we go again, thought Montgomery. Jovan’s wife, Nia, had him acting more like a wimp than he’d ever seen. The two had been having problems for months and this was all he ever talked about.

Nia Givens was a computer scientist at the National Security Agency. From the start, their relationship was at the upper end of the sexual explosion scale, and often led to a pretty volatile mix of love and hate. The fact that Jovan never finished college and she had a Ph.D., created a great deal of insecurity about his worth in the relationship.

The pressure between the two rivaled that of an engine radiator after racing one hundred miles per hour. Everyone knew it would explode once the cap was removed. Unknowingly, Jovan was slowly untwisting it with his jealousy. He had an overwhelming distrust and suspicion of Nia having an affair. Montgomery often found himself the recipient of Jovan’s constant whining.

“Jovan, come on man. I told you to stop being a punk before you get an ulcer.”

Montgomery laughed and punched Jovan in the arm setting up in a boxing pose. They always played liked this. But obviously Jovan wasn’t in the mood. He stood there with a blank look on his face.

“Listen Monty, I’m serious this time. I’ve got evidence to prove it.”

“Unless you caught some dude in your house with his pants around his ankles, I can’t imagine any evidence that could justify losing yourself in this misery. And since you’re standing here and not in jail for murder, I assume that’s not the evidence you’re talking about.”

Montgomery knew that his sarcasm blared. Jovan turned and started to walk toward the water, hiding the wells of tears forming in his eyes. Looking out at a yacht coasting toward the distant waterfront restaurants, Montgomery joined him hesitantly. Since he’d rarely seen Jovan this low before, he thought he would just listen.

The rising April sun broke through the clouds, promising a welcome reprieve from the spring rains. Montgomery knew his running time was getting shorter. The Washington, D.C. humidity made jogging unwise. Not only did the heat make it unbearable, but also the air quality sucked away the little oxygen he did have after a mile or so. As they reached the concrete boardwalk along the river, Jovan composed himself and slowly began to open up.

“She told me she was going to hang out with her girls yesterday afternoon,” he said. “I said cool, but I knew something was up. I don’t know why, but I needed to know what she was doing, to ease my mind. Too many stories of late meetings at work that weren’t adding up. I went online a couple of weeks ago to this website where they sell surveillance stuff, you know like the private eyes use. Ordered this portable device you can put on cars to track people’s movement, called um…’

Montgomery quickly chimed in, “A global positioning system?”

“Yeah, that’s it, GPS,” Jovan replied. He looked briefly into Montgomery’s eyes and smiled, then turned back towards the water. “Some serious Minority Report type shit ain’t it?”

Not really, Montgomery thought. They both had seen the Tom Cruise movie several times and loved the futuristic action thriller. Jovan exaggerated often, especially when it came to things he misunderstood. His experience with technology was limited to the Internet, car audio systems, and home wiring. He surprised Montgomery that he had even thought of the GPS himself. But desperate men are pretty imaginative and resourceful.

“I’ve had it for a couple of weeks but I didn’t want to use it. I was scared somebody might discover it over at NSA if I put it in her car. Nia said the security over there is tighter than a hooker’s skirt since this Iraq war started. With my luck, they might find it when she rolled onto the complex and think she was part of the al Qaeda or something.”

“They’re pretty common now, I doubt they would think anything of it,” said Montgomery.

“Maybe. Anyway, so I wait until she gets in the shower yesterday afternoon and put it in the trunk of the car. I’m thinking, so this is it. If she’s telling the truth, I’ll drop it and stop making a fool of myself. If she’s lying, I can move on, but she would be the fool because I caught her ass. Either way, I’m good. I just need to know which way to go. I stayed in the house all day after she left, watching ESPN. She left at four o’clock in the afternoon and didn’t get home until two this morning!” The anxiety in Jovan’s voice heightened.

Montgomery grabbed his arm and guided him to a bench. Once they sat, Jovan began ringing his hands and bouncing one leg up and down rapidly like a jackhammer.

“So what did you find out from the GPS?” asked Montgomery, trying to cut through the fluff and get to the main part of this twisted tale. Jovan told great stories, but they tended to drag on too long.

“I acted like I was asleep when she came in,” he continued, ignoring Montgomery’s question. “I could hear her rummaging around in her office downstairs for a while. When she finally eased in the bed she was snoring within ten minutes. I waited until about four-thirty, got up and went downstairs. I had to put a pillow over the loud-ass alarm to turn it off so I could open the garage door. When I looked at the GPS, it showed that she had been way out in Maryland. Somewhere in Calvert County, near the Bay. I got the exact location and everything. Now you know we fish out there all the time and there is no place for someone like her to hang out. Hell, ain’t even no black folks out there period.”

“Jimmy Blake and his wife live out there,” said Montgomery.

“Like I said, ain’t no black folks out there.” Both of them laughed relieving the tension, momentarily.

The noise from a jet departing from Reagan National Airport just across the river interrupted their conversation. After a moment of silence, Jovan said, “Monty, I’m headed to this place to see where she went. I need you to go with me in case I have to bust somebody in the head.”

Montgomery shook his head. “Come on Jo. You’re kind of jumping to conclusions man. I know it sounds suspicious, but I think you’re blowing this thing out of proportion. Go home and talk to Nia. I’ve told you before that all of this sneaking around was leading nowhere. Even if you’re right, which I have a hard time believing, are you willing to go to jail because you jumped on a dude over some woman?”

“She’s not just some woman.”

Indeed, Nia wasn’t just any woman.