The Iron Tiara

Anthony was escorted by an armed guard through the federal penitentiary where his friend Grizz sat on death row awaiting execution. He hadn’t been to visit Grizz since he made a special delivery to the prison several years ago. Not because he didn’t want to visit his old friend, but because Grizz wouldn’t allow it. After making that delivery, Anthony told Grizz he’d be back, to which Grizz replied, “Dead men don’t keep company with the living.”

And so, here Anthony was, years later walking the bleak halls of what had been Grizz’s existence, wondering why he’d been asked to come. He was shown into a small office and wasn’t in the least bit surprised to see Grizz sitting behind a desk, his feet propped up on its edge. He was on the phone and hung up as soon as he caught sight of Anthony. A wide grin broke out on his face as he approached his old friend and gave him a tight hug and a hard pat on the back. Anthony’s gaze fell on a small knee-high table against one wall. It was flanked by two cushioned chairs with wooden armrests. An expensive chess set carved from ivory sat on it. The same chess set Anthony had delivered to Grizz years earlier. He then perused the rest of the office.

Before he could ask, Grizz answered, “The perks of having some clout and loads of cash.”

They made small talk, and Grizz couldn’t hide his amusement when Anthony shared that his oldest, Slade, wanted to go into law to lock up the bad guys.

“I know he’s only thirteen and there’s still a lot of time for him to change his mind,” Anthony told him. "But if he sticks with it, I might consider moving away from Naples.” Grizz nodded his understanding, and after a few minutes of small talk in which both men avoided the subject of Kit, now called Ginny, Grizz blurted out, “I guess you’re wondering why I asked you to come.”

Anthony nodded and said, “It has crossed my mind.”

Grizz hefted one hip on the edge of his desk and said, “I hear congratulations are in order. I heard it’s a girl. I’m sure she’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Anthony said, with a grin. “She’s as beautiful as her mother.” He didn’t need to question how Grizz had heard. He’d said more than once that Grizz was the most connected person he knew and life behind bars wouldn’t have changed that. But he also knew Grizz hadn’t summoned him to offer congratulations.

“I have a present for you. Something to help celebrate your daughter’s birth.”

Anthony looked around the office, the confusion on his face hard to miss.

“It’s a real gem of a gift.” Grizz stood and said, “Follow me.”

Anthony walked down dreary hallways and noticed the respect that was given to Grizz, even by the guards. There were no catcalls or lewd comments from the other prisoners when they passed through the general population cell block.

“Where are we headed?” Anthony asked.

“Solitary confinement,” Grizz told him.

After they were let into the solitary confinement block, Grizz stopped and turned around. Facing Anthony, he said, “There’s a prison hierarchy, and as you’ve probably already guessed, I’m at the top of the food chain.”

Anthony gave a quick nod.

“New inmates are always trying to get on my good side. Working directly under me has its benefits, so they’re always trying to impress me with their past exploits. I don’t just look for muscle, but I seek out brains as well. The man you’re going to meet is an old friend of yours, but I’m sure you haven’t met him because if you had, he wouldn’t be alive. He told me about a stunt he pulled years ago, trying to impress me with the fact that he did it right under the nose of Anthony Bear. It’s obvious he believed what he heard back then. That we were rivals and enemies.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed.

Grizz motioned to the guard who unlocked the cell door.

The guard gave Grizz a curt nod and said, “He has ten minutes.”

Before swinging the door open, Grizz told Anthony, “I had him sent here so you’d have some alone time.”

The meaning wasn’t lost on Anthony, and when Grizz pulled the door open, Anthony didn’t recognize the man who was leaning back on his cot. But the man recognized Anthony and scrambled to his feet.

“Anthony Bear,” Grizz said as he waved his hand toward the open cell. “I’d like to introduce you to the man who used to call himself Ben Diamond.





Chapter Fifty-Three





Fort Lauderdale, Florida 2001





“I wasn’t even scared, Daddy!”

Six-year-old Daisy ran toward her father, and he effortlessly scooped her up in his arms and hugged her tight.

It was a warm winter, even by South Florida standards, and Anthony couldn’t miss the flush of Daisy’s cheeks as she stared into his eyes.

“Of course you weren’t scared, Daisy. You’re my big, brave girl.”  He smiled at Christy who was walking toward him. “No tears?” he asked his wife.

“She handled it like a champ,” Christy beamed. She was referring to their visit to the doctor’s office where Daisy was given an immunization shot.

Christy glanced around Anthony’s workshop and said, “It’s been almost two years, and you still haven’t unpacked all your tools. It’s a mess in here.”

“I’ve been busy establishing Native Touch on this coast, Christy. I haven’t had much time for organizing my shop.”

“How about I get Daisy some lunch, and I’ll be back to help you. I think the two of us could knock it out in under a couple hours. If it’s not so cluttered, maybe it’ll be an incentive to go back to your blacksmithing. I know it’s something you love.”

Christy knew there was more to Anthony’s reluctance to return to his hobby than just a cluttered workshop. He was still grieving the loss of his friend. Grizz had finally been put to death by lethal injection the previous summer. The irony wasn’t lost on either of them that the man who’d always been two steps ahead of the law and offered up information that’d kept Anthony and others out of trouble, hadn’t been able to save himself. They were both certain his death sentence would’ve been commuted to life without parole, but it hadn’t happened.

“What about Daisy?” he asked Christy. “You can’t leave her in the house alone.”

“Is Chrissy home?” Daisy interrupted from her perch on her father’s arm. She was referring to her sixteen-year-old brother, Christian, and was the only person in the world who could get away with calling him by that nickname.

“He left before you got here, sweetheart,” Anthony told her as he gently set her back on her feet.

She stomped her foot and whined, “But he promised he would play Beauty and the Beast with me today.”

Anthony gave Christy an inquisitive look.

“He has tea with her behind closed doors,” Christy tattled. She remembered the day she’d asked Christian to watch Daisy for a few hours while she ran errands. Before Christy left the house, Daisy had convinced her brother to watch her favorite video. When Christy returned to the house she quietly peeked in Daisy’s room to find them both sitting at her miniature table drinking juice from Daisy’s tea set.

“Maybe Slade will play with you if he stops by,” Anthony offered.

Daisy pouted and kicked the floor. “Chrissy is the best Beast.”

Christy smiled at Anthony. “Christian has a lot more hair than Slade, blue eyes and of course, the scowl. Just like the Beast.”

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