Fate Interrupted 3

by Kaitlyn Cross

  “Takes her mother an hour one way just to visit.” Clay’s silver eyebrows furrowed as he thought about it further. “Jack is with Nancy until we can…”

  “Save it for the Christmas newsletter, Clay. My drink is melting.”

  Clay didn’t speak for a few seconds, the tension as thick as molasses. “Did you also hear that they beat Megan? Dean and Evy, I mean.”

  “I heard she shot Jacobs first.”

  “And thank the Lord for small miracles!”

  Frank took off his sunglasses and set them on a wooden bar, glancing at his waterproof watch. It was almost time for lunch and Victoria would come waltzing in at any minute, walking on air, loving their new life, no longer alone. “Is there a point to any of this?”

  “I want you to take her from him.”

  Frank watched Victoria dive into the deep end of their swimming pool. Sun sparkles twinkled across the surface making him squint. “Who?”

  Clay swallowed dryly. “Why Evy, of course.”

  Frank’s eyes rose to the turquoise ocean beyond the infinity pool, a short laugh slipping from his lips. “Enjoy your stay at county, Clay. And if I were you, I’d lose this number. I may still have a friend or two in your neck of the concrete jungle.”

  Clay tipped his head back against the wall and laughed.

  “I’m retired.”

  Clay inhaled a calming breath and grew quiet. “You’re being called back up.”

  “You don’t have the authority.”

  “Don’t I?”

  Frank let his eyes go blurry, turning one of Victoria’s Kokopelli figurines into a fuzzy, humpbacked blob. “You should learn to quit while you’re behind, Clayton.”

  “Ah, but it’s a marathon, Franklin, not a sprint – much like a successful marriage.” He paused to let a heavyset guard shuffle past. “How is Victoria anyway? Very pretty lady, Frank. Impressive for an old timer like yourself.”

  Frank gritted his teeth and looked out the windows, feeling like Clay was watching him at this very moment. But that was impossible. Frank shuffled his bare feet behind the small bar. “Leave her out of this, Clay,” he calmly replied, pulling open a drawer and staring at the Beretta tucked inside.

  “Well now, Frank, I just might have a friend or two in your neck of the palm trees if you don’t…”

  “Then get them to do your dirty work!” Frank barked, slamming the drawer shut.

  “But I need the very best for this job and my friends are sloppy. I want to make sure the job gets done right this time.”

  Frank lowered his voice, reclaiming his cool demeanor. “Oh, you mean like last time?”

  “I have faith in you, Frank. Plus, you owe me one.”

  “Let it go, Clay. It’s over. Do your time and start fresh. It’s your only move.” Frank watched Victoria do a handstand in the shallow end, the sun splashing against her outstretched feet.

  Clay let out a surrendering sigh. “Well, I thought I’d try,” he said. “Apparently you really have changed.” He smiled. “I’m happy for you, Frank. I really am.”

  Frank traipsed across the tiled kitchen floor to the front door without responding.

  “You take extra good care of that wife of yours. I know too well what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

  Frank exhaled a salty breath. “Now, you’re starting to sound like one of the bad guys from a ‘Die Hard’ movie. You can do better than that, Clay,” he said, peeking out front where a red Prius sat parked down the street in front of a white plumbing van. With the sun reflecting off the windows, he couldn’t tell if anyone was inside either vehicle. Outside of a kid whizzing past on a Razor scooter, the street was quiet. Palm trees swayed with the lazy breeze. Frank snorted and hung his head, amused by his own naivety. Here Clay sat locked in a tiny cell halfway across the world and Frank was letting him get under his skin. Clay was good. The guy had lost everything: Power, money, family and friends – all gone in the blink of a news story and yet he could still get to Frank.

  “Oh, and Frank?”

  Frank stepped back from the window and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Goodbye, Clay.”

  “If you’re having problems with your plumbing, my friends can help with that as well.”

  Frank hesitated for a moment and then darted back to the window and yanked the curtain aside.

  The plumbing van was gone.

  A spike of adrenaline shot through his system.

  Clay laughed wildly into the phone, making Frank’s heart beat even faster. After a few seconds, Clay’s laugh tapered off into a clammy silence. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his orange knees. “Now…when can you catch the next plane to Milwaukee?”

  Frank folded his brow and checked the street one more time before going back across the kitchen. He caught his reflection in the mirror hanging behind the bar. After dropping ten pounds from all the surfing and kayaking Victoria had talked him into trying, his skin was tight and tan. There was no denying it, this life treated him well.

  “One last dance, Frankie boy, and I promise you will never hear from me again. But first…you owe me.”

  Frank blinked blankly at his reflection. Suddenly, his dead eyes were back and he cursed Clay for it. He tucked the gun into his swim trunks and pulled a pair of dark framed glasses from the back of the drawer, slid them on and stared vacantly into the mirror. Goosebumps rippled across his flesh at the return of the man before him. He never wanted to see that man again, yet there he was.

  “You also owe it to your wife,” Clay added.

  Mr. Ryder shut the drawer and went into the bedroom before Victoria came looking for him. “Text me the address. I’ll call you when I land.” He hung up and threw on a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt that went well with his tan and then pulled a suitcase from the closet and set it onto the bed with a bounce.

  Clay leaned back against the cold wall, not feeling the paint chips fall down his collar. He stared at the cell phone in his hand, flashing his million dollar smile.

  The end