Fatal Mistake, page 1
FATAL MISTAKE
A Brooks’ Family Values Novel
Copyright © 2015 by Iris Bolling
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN- 978-0-9913426-3-1
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015905401
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are with the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, locales is entirely coincidental.
SIRI ENTERPRISES
RICHMOND, VIRGINIA
www.sirient.com
www.irisbolling.net
Books by Iris Bolling
The Heart Series
Once You’ve Touched The Heart
The Heart of Him
Look Into My Heart
A Heart Divided
A Lost Heart
The Heart
The Heart Always Wins
Night of Seduction Series
Night of Seduction/Heaven’s Gate
The Pendleton Rule
Gems and Gents Series
Teach Me
The Book of Joshua I – Trust
The Book of Joshua II – Believe
A Lassiter’s Christmas
Ruby…Red Slippers & All
The Book of Adam – Hypnotic
The Book of Timothy – Symmetry
Phire: I’m Just Saying
Brooks Family Values Series
Synergy
Fatal Mistake
Propensity For Love
The Dunning Trilogy
Invested
Prologue
Isaac Singleton sat in the modest tri-level home of Felecia Kennedy. It was nice…not his taste, but nice. There were pictures of her son around the room in various stages of life. The woman had aged well; she didn’t look a day over fifty and he knew for a fact she had just turned seventy-five. Yes, he knew all about the whore his father had dared to have a bastard child with. He watched her under his eyelashes as she poured the tea. Dressed in tan slacks and a green cardigan sweater and shell, Felecia Kennedy was a very attractive woman and had to have been a beauty in her day.
“Would you care for sugar or cream?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Kennedy. Please have a seat.”
Felecia sat on the sofa across from the Queen Anne chair Isaac occupied. “I have to say, I was surprised when I opened the door and you were standing there. For a moment, I thought you were your father. But we both know that’s not possible.”
“Unfortunately, he is no longer with us. Dad left long before his body departed this earth.” Isaac sat the teacup down, it was a domestic brew and not of his liking. “His death and my mother’s deteriorating health is one of the reasons I decided to reach out.” Nodding his head in a sincere motion, he stated, “It’s time for me to get to know my brother. I regret his presence is only coming to light now. I can only believe my mother was doing what she thought was best.”
“I regret William’s and my deception. I’m certain it was a difficult topic for your mother to come to grips with. It was for me as well. When she came for a visit I wasn’t certain what her reasons were. Yet I found her to be understanding and forgiving. At my age you can’t ask for much more than that.”
That was the opening he was waiting for. “My mother came here to see you?” he asked in mock surprise.
“Yes, I thought that’s why you were here. To discuss the will.”
“What will?”
A confused Felecia sat forward. “Her will. She brought over a copy for me to have so Bobby will be recognized.”
Isaac smiled. “That’s why I came.” He moved to the sofa next to her and took her hand. “I know it is much later than it should have been. But I feel all of my father’s children should live in the fashion he worked so hard for.” He looked around, then back at Felecia and smiled. “It seems you provided well for your family. I’m sure they were very happy here. However, my father accumulated quite a portfolio. I could never live long enough to spend all he acquired. For so long I thought I was the only one. Now that we are aware of Bobby” —he nodded— “well, I believe financial arrangements should be made for him. It’s what my father would have wanted.” A tear dropped down Felecia’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to upset you.”
Felecia waved him off. “Nonsense, you did not offend me. Your generosity and thoughtfulness overwhelm me. I did not tell Bobby about the will because I had no idea how you felt about your mother giving away what you thought would be your inheritance.”
“Our inheritance. The family is just a little larger than we anticipated. In fact, I think I’ll speak to my mother to have it adjusted. Half of the estate should go to Bobby, after all he is my brother.”
“What an unselfish gesture.”
“You haven’t taken it to your attorney yet…have you?”
“Oh, no.” Felecia put her hand to her chest. “I have it right upstairs in the file cabinet, with all my other important papers.”
“Good.” Isaac stood. “Keep it there. It should only take a few days for my attorney to make the changes.” He walked towards the door. “I will bring the new will back to you and then you can share it with Bobby.”
“We should do it together, Isaac.”
“No, that moment should be between you and your son. Bobby and I can meet on a different day.”
“You are a good man, Isaac Singleton.”
“Thank you for being a good mother to my brother.”
With that, Isaac walked down the sidewalk in smooth even strides as he contemplated just how he would get his hands on that will.
Two nights later, Felecia Kennedy had fallen asleep dreaming of the life her son would have before him. Her daughter would never experience what came so easy for Bobby because she was always scheming. Using her body and good looks to prey on unsuspecting men. Not her Bobby. No, Bobby had worked hard for what he had and this, this inheritance from his father, would lighten the load. Thank God for Isaac Singleton was the last thought she had before a cloth soaked in chloroform covered her face. In less than three minutes, she was out. The search for the document took less time to find. One read-through to ensure it was the correct document and then a lighter opened. The document was left on the table, with the gas oven turned on. Within minutes the man dressed in all black raised the back bedroom window and climbed out.
Monday was Estelle Singleton’s housekeeper’s day off. Isaac knew because he’d set it up that way. At precisely nine o’clock in the morning Estelle was sitting in the sunroom of her estate as she did each day. This morning would be her last.
Isaac entered through the side door of the kitchen, then quietly walked up the back stairs to his parents’ bedroom. He walked into what had been his father’s closet, straight to the back wall. He removed the picture of the old house and set it on the floor. Using the combination, he opened the safe and sorted through a few documents until he came to the handwritten will. He grinned as he read through the document. Once he was finished, Isaac placed the document in his suit pocket, closed the safe and replaced the picture.
He walked out of the room, thinking all was right with the world once again. When his mother died, all would come to him. The mansion, the land, all the properties, the stocks, the bonds, and the biggest prize of all, the billion-dollar asset of Singleton Enterprises. It would all belong to him.
“What are you doing here?”
A surprised, but calm, Isaac looked up to see his mother coming up the grand staircase. He tilted his head to the side and grinned. “Good morning, Mother. I thought I would come by and check out the old home front.”
“How did you get in without me seeing you? I was right downstairs.”
“I came up the back staircase.”
Estelle took the last step as regally as her eighty-year-old body would allow. “Why are you sneaking around my house?”
“It is my home too, Mother.”
“No, Isaac, you have a million dollar home in Atlanta that you purchased with the NBA money you ran through instead of investing like your father advised.”
“Father built this estate for his family. That includes me.”
“Your father wanted no parts of you after the way you shot that young man and showed no remorse.”
“I did my time.”
“Three years, Isaac. For a young man’s life, you did three years.” Estelle shook her head. “He had a wife and children.”
“I did my time, I said,” he snarled. “I’m not going to keep hearing about it from you. The judge did what he thought was right. Who are you to question that?”
“Your mother,” she yelled back. “The one who has made amends for all the things you and your father did to people who got in your way.” Estelle grabbed her chest. “I’m not feeling well Isaac. I don’t want to do this with you today.”
“I need a check for five-hundred thousand and I’m gone. You can stay here in the grand old house and be rid of me.”
“Until next month. No, Isaac. No more.” Estelle took a stop to go around him, but he blocked her. She lost her balance and began falling back
“Huh. Looks dead to me.” He walked down the steps, over his mother’s body and out the door without looking back.
Three weeks later he was sitting in the corporate offices of Singleton Enterprises. His parents’ attorneys were there reading the will.
“Gentlemen, time is of the essence; get on with it. I have a business to run now.” Isaac sat at the end of the twenty-seat conference table with four attorneys, two on each side.
“Mr. Singleton,” the oldest gentleman spoke as he pulled out an envelope. “There was an addendum made by your father some thirty-odd-years ago.” He put the envelope on the table. “The letter was sealed. As you can see, the signature of all partners of our firm at that time is across the seal.”
“And?” Isaac asked. “What is inside the envelope?”
“A letter written by your father. The message to us was not to unseal it until both William and Estelle had expired.”
“They have reached that requirement. Isaac glared at the man. “I am the only child. My father left the majority of his estate to my mother and she was the trustee over what he left to me. That now reverts to me.”
“That is correct. However, what is inside this envelope trumps everything.”
Isaac’s eyes narrowed on the man. “Open the letter.”
“Very well.” The other attorneys sat up as the letter was unsealed. The oldest member of the firm read the letter.
To Whom It May Concern:
This is an addendum to my last will and testimony. The signatures on the outside of the envelope are proof that I am of sound mind and body.
I am not a perfect man, however, I did what I could to make a perfect son. Isaac Singleton fell short. I don’t hold him responsible. It was due to my bad decisions that he rebelled against us. This addendum is my humble attempt to correct that mistake. At the age of eighteen, Isaac fathered a child by a young girl named Gwendolyn Spivey. I forced him to abandon the girl and the child. I never knew what happened to the young girl; however, I am hereby ordering the law firm of Benet and Edmonds to search for this woman and the child. If located, the child is to receive one half the value of my total estate at the time of Estelle and my deaths. There are two conditions to be met.
The child must be of good moral character. This is to be determined by public standards. For things that are not acceptable in my day and time may very well be the way of things after my death.
The firm must locate said child and make a determination within a five-year time span from our deaths. If the child is not located, then my entire estate reverts to my son.
The man closed the envelope and looked up at Isaac. “Do you know the whereabouts of this child?”
Isaac’s fist closed and opened under the table. Each time, the blood seemed to pump vigorously through his veins. “No,” he finally replied as all eyes were upon him.
“As you know, this is a sizable estate. Since your mother was the trustee and you are her heir, the control of the estate goes to you. One half of the market value of the estate at the time of your mother’s death will be put in escrow until the child is located or the five-year time period expires.”
Isaac nodded, keeping his fist under the table and his facial expression concealed. “Since I am the trustee, all information regarding the search for my child will come to me. I, alone will be the one to explain the contents of this letter.” He reached for the letter. The attorney picked it up.
“This remains in the hands of the firm until which time the child, who would be in their late thirties now, is found.”
The attorneys stood. “I believe that concludes our discussion.”
Isaac watched as the men left the room. The moment the door closed, his nostrils flared, his eyes became hard as he stood pushing the chair back with a force that sent it crashing into the wall. He looked around the room, his eyes bulging.
“No one is going to take what’s mine. I don’t care how many people I have to kill.”
His jaw muscles tightened as he paced the room, thinking. His pace slowed as the words of the addendum came to him. A plan began to form in his mind. His heart rate decreased. His lips curved into a cynical smile. He had a head start on the firm. Isaac knew exactly where his child, a son, was and who raised him. It should prove to be entertaining watching one of the most prominent families in the country fall from grace.
Chapter 1
Nicolas Brooks stood in the mirror adjusting the tie to his tuxedo. This was his night. All the dedication, the long hours, the many doors that were closed in his face, all led to this night. With a lot of help from a man he admired, he believed he would now get the one thing he longed for...his father's respect.
From the moment he’d told his father of his decision to go into sports agency instead of litigation, he had been treated as a leper. As if he had abandoned the family in some way. The law was the family business. Every adult in the family was a lawyer. Not just lawyers, they all excelled in whatever field of law they applied. Starting with his father, Avery Brooks, who just happened to be the go-to lawyer for civil rights cases around the country. He’d had so many unlawful arrest and detainment cases overturned that when appeal judges would see his name on a docket, they would immediately close the courtroom so they would not be embarrassed. It was well known that Avery Brooks would not ever take a case to court without the means to win. “People’s lives are placed in my hands. It’s my duty to not let them down.” That was his father’s motto. Then, there was his oldest brother, Vernon Brooks…the attorney’s attorney. He was known as the attorney to the rich, famous, and wealthy. He was the one who was called to handle criminal situations for those who could afford to pay the big dollars to keep themselves or their children out of jail, when jail time was a guarantee. Vernon played hardball and did not mind getting his hands a little dirty to keep his clients out of jail. “The bigger the case…the bigger the paycheck.” The middle son to Avery, and his second brother, outdid them all. James Brooks made presidents. He’d taken a relatively unknown man and made him President of The United States of America in as little as ten years. Now he was the advisor to the President. “The people of this country deserve the best. It’s my duty to develop and deliver the man to them.”
Nick pulled the tie loose as he thought, How in the hell am I supposed to compete with them? He placed both hands on the Italian-marble sink top, lowered his head, and shook off the doubts.
He glanced at himself in the mirror. He was not only the baby boy to Avery and Gwendolyn Brooks, he was their youngest son, beating his twin sister Nicole by a mere, four minutes. He began to work on his tie again as he thought about his fearless twin sister. Nicole tackled everything head on, sometimes too directly. All through high school, Nicole battled with dyslexia. She was teased terribly by some of the girls. Instead of her turning the cheek, she would turn the other girls’ cheek by using her fists. Whenever there was a game, Nick would hear the adventures of Nikki in the locker room. “Man we are going to rename your sister Laila, with the stinging right hook. You should take a few pointers from her.” Nick would always smile and reply, “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
And he was right. As the point guard and leading scorer of the high school basketball team, Nick had no problems getting girls. His problem was getting rid of girls. To this day no girl had ever broken up with Nick Brooks—ever. Any of his ex-girlfriends from high school or college would tell you Nick was the sweetest guy, but when he was ready to move on, that door was closed. When he moved on there was never any drama, no immediate new girl in his life or anything to belittle or disrespect the previous girlfriend. Nick always believed in allowing himself time to transition from one to another. To this day Nick could call anyone of his former girlfriends to talk or hangout. He respected them and they all respected him.
