by RJ Blain
“Preferable to having a hole drilled into my big toe so you can remove my internal organs through it, I suppose.”
“Damn straight, Mr. Thomas. Don’t you forget it.” Holding out my coffee cup with my left hand, I waved it at him until he sighed and refilled it. “We’re good?”
“We’re good. If you ever scare me like that again, I will handcuff you to me so you can’t leave my sight.”
“That’s a lame threat, Jake. The only eventful part of that trip was the Autobahn, and only because I rented a really nice Mercedes and it liked the roads. Actually, the entire trip has sucked. I hated it.”
“If I hadn’t been such a fucking idiot, you wouldn’t have had to go anywhere at all. I’m sorry.”
“I’m nauseous enough without you apologizing over and over and adding to it.”
“Point taken. How’s your hand?”
“Throbbing.” I took a sip of my coffee. “Think we can get away with escaping this castle? I need clothes. Maybe a new watch. I’ve been wearing this same shit for days.”
“I’ll ask Dr. Sampson. I got a rental so I could get here, but I wasn’t anticipating you having two FBI agents following you around. What’s the deal with them?”
“Don’t ask me. They just picked me up at the airport and implied they would arrest me if I didn’t cooperate. After that, I was sent to the embassy, and they’ve been around ever since. I didn’t see them at the hospital, but they were there when I left. Miller slipped and said it had something to do with me disappearing in Germany.” I shrugged. “They’re overly determined to nullify my resignation.”
“Can’t say I blame them, woman. You’re a good agent, and good agents don’t just fall out of the sky.”
“I’ve been a pretty terrible agent lately,” I mumbled before draining my cup of coffee. “These cups are torture devices.”
Jake reclaimed the cup and filled it. “I’m going to have to find you a proper mug before you start drinking straight from the pot.”
“Might be an idea. What am I going to wear? I refuse to wear that pink frilly thing ever again. It would make me really happy if I could burn it, Jake.”
“There has to be a fireplace in this castle somewhere.”
“We could go explore the castle.”
“Not naked we aren’t.”
“Put that suit back on. I like it.”
“Considering it’s the only thing I have to wear, I don’t really have much of a choice. That asshole didn’t think things through. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find clothes that fit me?” Jake grumbled and grabbed the travel bag I had purchased at the airport and set it on the bed. “Someone got you dress slacks and a blouse at least, but they’re wrinkled.”
“Do I look like I care about wrinkles?”
Jake frowned and pulled out a black box. “Is this makeup?”
“Looks like it.”
“I’m concerned, Karma.”
“I didn’t buy it.”
Jake sighed his relief and tossed it in the garbage can beside the dresser. “Someone took a lot of liberties with your bag, then.”
After rooting around, he held up the bag of beads, string, and metal wire. “What’s this?”
“I got them in Morocco. It was during a moment of weakness.”
“Weakness?” Jake open the bag and scrutinized the chocolate and gold colored beads. “This is one of those female things I won’t understand, isn’t it?”
“I thought I’d make a bracelet with them.”
“Do you even know how to make a bracelet?”
“Not a clue in hell. As I said, it was during a moment of weakness.”
“I’m not sure I understand why you keep referring to these beads as a moment of weakness.”
Scowling, I turned my head so I wouldn’t have to look at him. “They match your eyes.”
Jake laughed and set the beads on the bed. “That is the most feminine thing I have ever seen you willingly do.”
“Just give me some clothes, Jake.”
Dressing with one functional hand was a challenge. Jake sat on the bed, watched, and fought to keep from laughing at my struggles, but I won the war without having to ask for his help. When I finished, he smiled at me, reached over, and gave my blouse a tug to straighten it. “Not bad. You even got the buttons right.”
“When you’re good, you’re good.”
“I have been told we will be staying here a week. If you don’t feel up for it, I can go do the shopping. No one deserves the nightmare that is finding clothing in my size.”
“I broke my hand, Jake. I’m not an invalid.”
“Karma, you may as well accept it. Until you’re back over a hundred pounds, I’m going to treat you like you’re made of glass. If you had been in shape, you never would have broken your hand hitting a table.” Jake huffed and ran his hands through his hair. “Fine, but I’m clearing it with Dr. Sampson first—and whoever the hell your surgeon is.”
Pulling out his phone, he browsed through his contacts before connecting the call. “Dr. Sampson? Jake Thomas. Can I take Karma out shopping? We both need clothes and some odds and ends.”
While he talked to the woman, I got up and hunted down my Moroccan slippers. They didn’t match my outfit, but I didn’t care. They were comfortable.
I regretted I only had one pair.
“I’d prefer if we could go on our own.” Wrinkling his nose, Jake adjusted his hold on the phone and made a strangling motion with his other hand. “Is there a reason we need an armed guard?” After several long moments, he laughed. “Karma, she wants to know if you’re taking me to a secondary location.”
“I thought we were going to a clothing store.”
“That’s what I thought, too.”
“Just tell her no. Too much work.”
“Dr. Sampson, she says it is too much work. No, we are not going to go on an impromptu honeymoon. We are going to have lunch, see if we can find reasonable clothing in our sizes, and probably have dinner. No, I don’t know where we’ll be going. We haven’t gotten that far in planning anything.”
“London is supposed to have good shopping, Jake.”
“London is over an hour from here.”
“I’m not driving, so I’m fine with that.”
“Apparently, Karma wants to shop in London.” He listened for a few more minutes, tapping his foot. “Yes, we have thoroughly resolved our differences, Dr. Sampson.”
Several seconds later, he made a choking noise. “That’s none of your business!”
“She’s asking if we kissed and made up, isn’t she?”
Jake sighed and nodded.
“Just tell her repeatedly, Jake.”
He stared at me and sighed again. “Repeatedly. Are you satisfied?”
Smirking, I blew him a kiss. Loud enough I was certain the woman on the phone could hear me, I said, “Why yes, I am. Thanks for asking.”
“Goodbye, Dr. Sampson. I am going to take my satisfied partner to London now.” Jake hung up. “That was awkward.”
I frowned. “I thought men enjoyed having the praises of their prowess proclaimed.”
Someone knocked at the door, and with my coffee in hand, I went to answer it before remembering I had only one functional hand. Sipping my coffee, I manipulated the knob with the thumb and palm of my injured hand and somehow managed to open the door with minimal pain.
Even under normal circumstances, I would have been alarmed by the presence of my mother at my door. When she came calling, it was for a reason. I stared up into her narrowed eyes, aware of her darkened cheeks. Anger always made her blush, and on a black woman as dark as my mother, it turned her skin coal black.
I forgot how to swallow, and my coffee burned my mouth. When the pain registered despite the little pills Jake had given me, I did the absolute worst thing possible.
I spit coffee in Ma’s face.
I went cold with horror as the liquid dripped down her cheeks to the stone floor.
Fa
r too calm for my comfort, Ma reached into her pocket, pulled out a tissue, and wiped her face. “Karma Clarice Johnson, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”
Where Ma went, Pops wasn’t far behind. Instead of crossing his arms over his chest when angry, Pops put his hands in his pockets, straightened his back, and stared down his long nose at me. Like Ma, his skin darkened with emotion, though he never managed to get quite as black as Ma.
I backpedalled into the room and bumped into Jake, who took possession of my coffee before I could drop it on the floor.
My mouth moved, but I couldn’t say a word. There was nowhere to retreat to; with Jake behind me, I couldn’t even reach the bed. With Ma and Pops looming in the doorway, I couldn’t get past them without one of them catching me first.
“Help,” I begged in a desperate whisper.
“There’s two of them, and I don’t have a gun anymore, remember? What am I supposed to do?” he whispered back.
“Think of something!”
Ma cleared her throat. “Karma.”
I whimpered. “Yes, Ma?”
“I asked you a question.”
“S-shopping. In London. I-I n-need new clothes. In London.”
Jake nudged me to the side so he could step around me, thrusting his hand out. “Mrs. Johnson, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Please forgive Karma. She just had some painkillers.”
Ma wound up and slapped Jake across the face so hard his head snapped to the side. “And just what do you think you’re doing with my daughter, James Thomas?”
I covered my face with my hands and wished I could disappear.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was surprisingly spacious beneath the bed. Whoever was in charge of cleaning the room had done a stellar job. Despite my close examination of the stone floor, I couldn’t locate even a single dust bunny to be friends with me.
The only things missing from my safe haven were a nice warm blanket and coffee. If I wanted to risk discovery, I could pull the blanket off the bed and drag it into my lair. A lair was so much better with a blanket.
I curled up beneath the head of the bed, closed my eyes, and pretended I couldn’t hear Ma murdering my partner. Maybe Jake was already dead; he hadn’t said a word despite the fact my ma had slapped the sin right out of him. If she had balled her hand into a fist, she would’ve cleaned his clock and floored him.
Maybe Pops knew enough martial arts to kick my ass, but all Ma needed was her slap to defend herself—or murder my partner.
I’d miss Jake.
My guilt for sacrificing him to my ma would last a long time. If she took her time killing him, maybe she’d forget I existed. Ma liked things nice and neat, so she’d definitely dispose of his body first. Once she finished with Jake, she’d come after me.
I had some time. It’d take her at least a few hours to find a good place to hide Jake’s body.
Pops cleared his throat several times. I could imagine him with his hands in his pockets, his expression neutral, waiting patiently for his turn. Ma always went first. If they were playing Rocks-Paper-Scissors, Ma would be the scissors to Pops’s paper, and Pops was as smart as he was wise.
Pops would let Ma finish with my partner before taking care of the leftovers. For the first time, I realized my pops was like a vulture. He was circling, just waiting for the predator to finish with her share before coming in to devour the scraps.
The room would make an interesting crime scene. They’d find all sorts of evidence of what Jake and I had been up to, assuming it wasn’t obliterated by Ma and Pops.
Pops cleared his throat again.
“Can’t you see I’m busy here?” Ma didn’t shriek. No, Ma’s voice pitched low and growly, warning anyone stupid enough to get in the way of her target.
I wanted to help Jake, but Ma would skin me, too, then she’d have two bodies to hide.
“We’ve got company, darling dear,” Pops said, his voice calm and dangerously polite. “They’ve been waiting right patient, too. Rude to leave them waiting at the door, don’t you reckon?”
I’d been little when we’d moved from Georgia to Vermont, but sometimes Pops slipped. When Pops slipped, it meant bad news for someone—Jake.
“Oh dear. How rude of me. I’m so sorry. Blessed be, come on in. Please forgive our rudeness,” my ma chirped in her most pleasant sing-song voice. She liked to call it her Sunday Best.
I thought of it as the Wrath of God.
It suited; the only thing capable of saving my partner was divine intervention.
“Nothing to forgive, Mrs. Johnson. Please don’t mind us. We can wait our turn. I’m finding this very educational,” Pauline Thomas replied, and like Ma and Pops, her voice was calm.
“Mr. Johnson. Mrs. Johnson,” Jake’s father greeted.
At least I wouldn’t have to explain Jake’s death to his parents. Would they help hide his body? If they did, I doubted anyone would find Jake for a long, long time.
“If you don’t mind the interruption, is your daughter around? I was hoping for a chance to speak with her,” Pauline said.
There was a long moment of silence.
“That blasted girl, too clever for her own good. I see. She sacrificed her partner so she could escape,” my ma muttered. “Well, she didn’t go out the window, not at this height. Sweet baby Jesus, that’s what I get for not paying enough attention. Darling, which way did she go?”
Maybe Ma was the scissors to Pops’s paper in most matters, but when it came to stupid questions, Pops was the rock to her scissors. “Why are you asking me? You said you would handle everything.”
Ma sighed. “She must have sneaked on out while we were having a talk with the boy here. Damn that girl, doing exactly what she wants. Where did we go wrong? She was such a darling little thing when she was just born, so sweet and never fussing unless there was something truly the matter.”
“Are we talking about the same woman here?” my partner asked.
Why did he sound so amused? Didn’t he know he was about to die?
“Now you look here, Jake Thomas! Don’t you go maligning my little girl like that,” Ma snapped.
“She could be halfway across the country by now if we let her give us the slip.” Pops sighed. “I keep warning you to stop underestimating that child, but no. You keep insisting she’s the perfect little angel until she goes and does something stupid. She had you fooled the instant you saw her.”
“She wouldn’t go far, would she?” Jake’s mother demanded.
“Oh, goodness me. No, no. I reckon she’s gone and found herself a place to hole up. She likes up a tree the best,” Ma reported, and like Pops, her Georgia roots showed through. “Terrified of heights, that one, but sure enough, she’ll go right on up like a scared house cat when we’re fixing to give her a scolding. Without fail, one of us has to go on up after her to get her to come down. She never learns, her. At least she stopped crawling her way into holes, not after that one time we had to take her in for rabies shots because she crawled her way into a vixen’s den. That’s when we decided it was high time to move to Vermont.”
I really wanted some coffee. Maybe I could choke on it and put myself out of my misery. Once she started, Ma wouldn’t stop until she was happy, and by the time she was finished, Jake’s parents would know every last one of my childhood shames.
When Ma got a hold of me, she’d torture me before forcing me to dig my own grave. Then she’d bury me in it and give me a nice funeral.
Ma had always promised she’d give me a nice funeral when I got myself killed doing stupid, dangerous things. Invoking her wrath counted.
“I have the feeling your daughter still managed to find trouble despite your efforts,” Jake’s father said, his tone wry.
Ma used her best long-suffering sigh, the one that tended to make everyone in a twenty-foot radius stop in their tracks. “Oh, the stories I could tell you, Mr. Thomas. But first, there’s the matter of this boy here.”
“Indeed. Don
’t let us interrupt you. Best finish with him before we hunt down the girl.”
“Dad,” Jake protested.
“I have one word for you, James: Ohio.”
“I’m a dead man, aren’t I?”
“You have no idea.”
I could stay curled up under the bed forever. Stone shouldn’t have been so comfortable. The cold floor worked well with the tiny painkiller pills Jake had given me, keeping me pleasantly numb.
My hand didn’t throb, which worked for me. I lost track of time listening to Ma grill Jake while Jake’s parents offered their insights. Like me, Jake had gotten himself into a lot of trouble as a child, and Jake’s father seemed to enjoy telling my ma about it.
“Shouldn’t we be looking for Karma?” Jake pleaded. I’d lost count of the number of times my partner had sought a way out of my ma’s interrogation and flaying. “The painkillers have to be kicking in by now. It can’t be safe for her to be alone.”
“Don’t you even think about taking that tone with me, James Thomas,” Ma warned. “She’s probably up a tree waiting for someone to rescue her.”
“With a broken hand.”
“Details,” Ma replied, her huff so similar to Jake’s I had to swallow a giggle before it slipped out.
“I think we should discuss how your daughter broke her hand. James, what did you do to that girl?” Jake’s mother demanded.
“It wasn’t me!”
“Really. With how angry that girl is at you, you think I’m going to believe that?”
“The doctor did it.”
There was a long silence before Jake’s mother spluttered, “The… what?”
Jake sighed. “I tried to tell you.”
“Explain,” Pauline ordered.
“There’s this thing called patient confidentiality, Mom. Here, I have Dr. Sampson’s number. She can explain how she broke Karma’s hand. If you close the door, I’ll put it on speaker. You can talk to her directly.”
My partner was such a smart man, sacrificing my psychiatrist to our parents. I nursed a little hope he might survive.
