White sister

Chapter 32

I left the Acura at Dupar's and drove Chooch's Jeep Cherokee back to the hospital. My eyes stayed on the road, but I could feel the sadness and loss coming off my son in waves as he leaned against the passenger window. I stole a look as we passed under the street light on Ventura Boulevard. His expression reminded me of the bleak looks on the faces of the forgotten boys I'd grown up with at Huntington House.

In all of this, I'd been so consumed with Alexa's betrayal and my own grief over her injury that Vd forgotten Chooch in the process. I'd been giving him orders be here, do that counting on his support, but not thinking enough about how this was affecting him. I had been dealing with my pain and ignoring his. "I'm sorry," I finally said. "I apologize, son." "You didn't do anything. You don't need to apologize to me, Dad."

"Yes, I do. You know, Chooch, you're so tall and strong now that I forget you're still only a teenager just eighteen. I think 1 rely on you too much, and I'm sorry."

He sat quietly.

"Sometimes in life, you get dealt bad cards," I went on. "And when you get a bad hand, that's when you get to find out who you really are, because that's when it starts to make sense to compromise your principles and take shortcuts. These last few days, I've been doing some of that. I don't like myself for it, and I especially don't like that it's been falling on you to deal with the backlash. I've been asking you to pick up after me, and that's not right, especially now. So I'm apologizing."

Still, he said nothing and seemed to be guarding his thoughts.

"I want you to know I understand how much there is at stake here for you. It's bad enough what's happening to Alexa, without also losing your respect for me." Again, he said nothing, so I went on. "These last two days, I've been thinking about Sandy. You lost one mom, and now you're having to go through it a second time. We never talk much about Sandy, but it's there, and I know it haunts you."

Then Chooch finally turned to face me. "We didn't talk about her because I never really knew her two weeks here, a month there. She was so worried I'd find out who she was and what she did for a living, that she never let me see inside her. We never communicated. The best thing she ever did was getting you to take me for those two weeks, five years ago. She knew that I needed your strength and values. I love her for that and I certainly owe her. But I don't really have any fond memories. She was never there." He paused, then said, "Dad, nothing can ever diminish what I feel for you and Alexa. You gave me a real family. You guys are everything to me, and as far as cutting corners? Nobody gets it right all the time. I know that. But even when you're wrong, you know what makes it alright?"

I shook my head, not trusting my voice.

"You never stop worrying about it. You never stop questioning yourself. You taught me how to be a man by being someone I can believe in. So now that I am a man, it's only right for you to lean on me a little."

After a moment, I looked over at him. "We'll get through this together," I whispered.

"I know," he said softly.

We arrived at UCLA Medical Center and I parked in the lot and shut off the engine. We sat in silence for a minute before I finally spoke again.

"Listen, Chooch. I've got to keep on this. Could you help me with something?"

"Sure, Dad. Anything."

"You're always reading Street Beat and those other music magazines, so you know the rap scene pretty well, right?"

"Yeah."

"You ever hear of a record company called Chronic Inc.?"

"It's not a record company. It's a management company like Rush Management, or one of those."

"They have any hot acts? Somebody named Curtis?"

"Curtis Clark. He's big. Does mostly West Coast rap, but years ago he started out doing some very badass street underground. He records for Lethal Force."

"Maluga's company."

"Yeah, but according to the music mags, they're having a feud. Nobody knows what it's about. They got in a screaming match at the Source Awards in Miami when Floor Score won Best New Artist."

I turned to face him. "Floor Score is a band?"

This hit me out of nowhere. I must have looked stunned or my mouth had fallen open, because Chooch said:

"You okay?"

"Yeah… Tell me about Floor Score. I thought it was'a sex act."

"Technically, it's street slang for drugs you find on the ground," he said. "Curtis Clark is the lead guy the front man."

"What's WYD?"

"WYD stands for Who's Your Daddy. They're a huge label. Lionel Wright owns it. He's also their biggest star. Lionel records under the name Bust A Cap."

My excitement was growing. This was a whole new direction.

"Lionel Wright is the brains behind WYD and he's a marketing genius," Chooch continued. "Besides his rap songs, he's got a Bust A Cap clothing line and Bust A Cap hair products. He's kinda like Sean 'Puffy' Combs. Used to be that Lionel was only in magazines like Rap World and Street Beat. Now he's in every other issue of People. He and WYD have been pirating acts away from Lethal Force."

"Acts like Curtis Clark and Floor Score," I muttered, remembering the conversation I'd overheard earlier in the Chronic Inc. office. "Ever heard of a group called Motel Crypto or Four-Fifty-Seven?" I asked, remembering those names from Alexa's e-mails.

"Crypto Four-Fifty-Seven is a rap group that just left Lethal Force," Chooch said. "Everybody's leaving the Malugas because they're still a Compton-style gangsta rap company. Now that Maluga is out of jail, he's back to threatening everybody, trying to get his old acts back and hanging on to the ones he still has like Floor Score." He looked closer at me. "I thought you hated this kinda music. Why are you interested in all this?"

"Just am," I said. "I'll call and check in every couple of hours. I'm sorry I can't be in there with you."

He smiled. "I'll watch over Mom. You go find out who killed David Slade."

"Deal."

He started to get out of the car but I had one last thought and stopped him by saying, "Hey, Chooch, you still got your laptop in here?"

He nodded, opened the back, rummaged under his seat, then pulled it out and handed it to me. "You might have to use the lighter plug. I don't know how much charge is left."

"Thanks," I said, and hugged him.

I sat in the Jeep and watched him walk back into the hospital. Then I headed back to the Valley. I'd stupidly left Alexa's computer in the Acura and I needed to retrieve it.

All the way over the hill, I kept turning this new information over in my mind.

There were still a few things that didn't fit, but in my mind the accounting had just changed, and a few things were finally beginning to add up. There had been a mistake in my original tabulation. I should have known to trust in Alexa no matter what. The error my mistrust had produced was hiding a larger truth, and that truth just might exonerate her.