50 Shades of Drake 5 and 6

More Life: Chapter Eighteen

    Carlos stared at Aubrey for a long time before calmly walking over to his designer bag and pulling out a cigarette. His hand fished around for the lighter. With the lighter in one hand and the cigarette in the other, he turned to face the dejected-looking multimedia star. "So...I just want to get this straight. You know I'm crazy and I know I'm crazy, so I just like to make sure I know when I'm actually being crazy and when someone else is driving the Crazymobile and taking me along for the ride." He paced the length of his hotel room suite (Aubrey had been concerned about being interrupted by his team if they'd used his room). "You had a dream where you heard Destiny and she appeared to you, and told you to find her in Turks. After waking up from that dream, you told your entire team and me that we would all be going to Turks. Because of that dream, you think she's actually alive and you're here trying to look for her?"

    "Yes." Aubrey sat in one of the arm chairs placed in front of the bed. 

    With a shake of his head, Carlos placed the cigarette between his lips. He lit the end and took a drag before muttering, "Wow."

    "I know it sounds crazy, but say something."

    "Say something, baby, indeed," Carlos mumbled. "The only thought going through my mind is that Destiny must have had some mind-blowing pussy. I mean...of course she did, because she was my best friend and a certified baddie but you are trippin, my friend." He took another puff of the cigarette.

    "Carlos."

    "You're trying to pull me into this and search," Carlos said, "but what happens when we don't fucking find her?"

    Aubrey dropped his hands between his knees and lowered his head.

    "Have you thought about that? Have you considered that? You're going to go around traipsing all over this island trying to find her, but what happens when you don't?" Carlos gestured towards the open balcony door. "You really think she's out there somewhere waiting for you, when we had a funeral for her, Aubs."

    "I think it was staged."

    Carlos ran a hand through his hair. "Oh my God." He walked over to Aubrey and lowered himself into the chair next to him. "Okay. Okay, I'll play this game with you. So...someone only pretends to kill her...why?"

    Aubrey's eyes shifted to the balcony. He was painfully aware at how much daylight they were losing just by having this conversation. "No, no, this is good," he said, almost to himself. "Maybe if I talk this through, that will help me figure out where she'd be."

    Carlos's brows drew together and he wore a look of genuine concern.

    "Okay. Hypothetically, someone wouldn't pretend to kill her just to do it. So...someone really did try to kill her."

    "Then why stage a funeral?"

    Aubrey frowned. "I...I don't know. Maybe to keep us from looking for her?"

    "What do they get out of holding onto her and keeping her alive?" Carlos felt compelled to ask. "If you go through all of that trouble of faking her remains and staging a funeral, wouldn't that usually be because the person has some kind of information or something? What the hell does Destiny know? I mean...shit, that sounded shady. You know what the fuck I mean."

    "You have a point."

    "Of course I have a point," Carlos seconded. "The shit doesn't make sense. It's not like she knows your business secrets or anything. All she knows is how well you dick down women and that you like to be called Sir while you do it. And I don't mean to be vulgar, but your hoes let that info out of the bag a long ass time ago."

    Aubrey gave him a look.

    Carlos dramatically shrugged his shoulders. "Did I lie? Did you hear any lies anywhere up and through there?"

    Aubrey leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. "Why would someone take her and keep her alive?"

    A thought occurred to Carlos, but it was so disgusting and horrifying that he didn't think to speak it out loud. 

    Aubrey noticed the change in demeanor immediately. "What? Did you think of something?"

    Carlos pursed his lips shut. "No. Nope. Nyet."

    "Just say it."

    "I don't want to."

    "I asked why someone would take her and keep her al-" Aubrey stopped himself. "No. They wouldn't stage a funeral just so they could..."

    "Exactly. Right? They wouldn't." Relief washed over Carlos that Aubrey shut down the idea.

    But the longer Aubrey sat and thought about it, the darker his eyes became. His right hand clenched into a fist. "There's no way," he said but his voice was quiet now.

    Carlos pushed down the panic he was starting to feel. "Other reasons why they would kidnap her. Umm..."

    "This isn't getting us anywhere," Aubrey growled, shooting up from his chair.

    Carlos held both hands up in a defensive gesture. "Look, I shouldn't have even thought what I thought. Okay? That's my bad. There are other possibilities, other reasons maybe why someone would want to take her. I just...can't think of any, right now in this exact moment. That doesn't mean they don't exist, though."

    Aubrey turned and walked out onto the balcony.

    Carlos's shoulders dropped down. He didn't want to shoot down Aubrey's hopes, but this idea of his was so far-fetched. Carlos would be doing a disservice to him to feed him false hopes. Staging a death and funeral took a lot of power. Harry Palmer doesn't lack power, but faking a funeral would take cooperation from the morgue or coroner or whoever the hell writes up death certificates. The funeral home would have had to be in on it. Newspapers published articles about her death, and they usually verify information before they go to print. Too many people would have had to be involved with this, and as powerful as Palmer is, I don't know if he has that much fucking power. He couldn't make his own wife's murder case go away. Carlos stood there, frozen in the middle of the hotel room. No...no, the only people who would have had the power to do all of that? They go by an acronym. Realization dawned on him and he stared at Aubrey's back. I can't go to him with this, because it still doesn't make sense. Why would the FBI stage her funeral?

    Even though he couldn't come up with an answer, it did feel like he was snapping the right puzzle pieces together. He just couldn't picture the full image the puzzle was trying to make just yet.

    "Damn, I'm good," Carlos said with a shake of his head.

     Aubrey turned his head. "Did you say something?"

    "I said...I am good, when it comes to sleuthing shit," Carlos said after clearing his throat. "So, fine. I'll help you, even though there is a good chance we won't find her because she isn't alive to find." There you go, Carlos. Manage his expectations and your own. "Before we grab Scooby and Shaggy and Velma and pile into the Mystery Machine, though, I want us to both just pause for a minute and really think about what we're doing. We are two men who have just experienced a huge loss in our lives. We are still in the process of grieving. If we go on this crazy expedition and she is not out there for us to find, that could break us. It would be like losing her all over again. I just...I just want you to be aware of that possibility and result."

    Aubrey mulled over those words and turned to peer out over the balcony railing. "And I want you to pause for a minute and think about her, out there somewhere, needing our help. Thinking that we're believing she's really dead and not even out there trying to find her. She could be in trouble, out there. She could need me. Even though there's a chance I could get my heart broken again, at the end of the day the only thought that matters is she could need me. Even though that is a could statement, it's worth me trying to look for her."

    Carlos took a deep breath nodded. "Okay. Well, shit. Let's find my bestie and pray she's not all zombified and shit, then."