by Alexie Aaron
“Calvin has volunteered to be bait.”
“What if they don’t bite?”
“I’m going to give the Gazette an interview and let them run with the story. I trust Macy to edit out the paranormal aspects of the case.”
“In other words, convict them in the press,” Cid said.
“Exactly. When can we expect you to bring over Father Santos?”
“Macy stole him. He’s upstairs meeting her father as we speak.”
“She is a very resourceful woman, Cid.”
“Evidently, but I sense an honest one. The Egglestons are valuable allies to have in Stepner.”
“Yes, one of the last independent presses. Go and grab your priest because we have some preparing to do, and I can’t have Luminosa wreaking havoc until we get those confessions on tape.”
~
The Espinas had moved on from shingling the individual cottages to the vast string of small studios that used to be the standard, one-room, one-bath motel offerings. The long line of studios was joined under one massive roof that fell dramatically, overhanging the long, horizontal, rectangular windows on the south side. Due to the steepness of the roof, the workers were aided by the backup of a hydraulic lift and secured on lines, just in case they lost their footings.
“They look like goats up there,” Calvin said to Jesse.
“I wouldn’t dare call them goats,” Jesse said. “Not within hearing distance anyway.”
“You seem intimidated by them. I had cocktails with them and found the women delightful. They have had such hard lives, yet they can laugh so easily.”
Cid drove up and parked his vehicle close to where Jesse and Calvin were standing.
A priest dressed in the uniform of his faith got out of the passenger side of the truck. He carried a heavy black bag. Cid and he walked over to Jesse and Calvin.
“Father Santos,” Cid said. “This is my associate Jesse Holden and Calvin Franks, the owner of High Court.”
“Mr. Holden,” Father Santos said, shaking Jesse’s hand. He then turned and took Calvin’s offered hand. He smiled as he read the man’s mind. Calvin’s need to bring justice to the family of his friend had driven him to be successful. Sometimes good deeds are paid for with your own sweat.
“Oooh, Jesse, what did you do, to have a priest come to you for your confession?” one of the Espina workers called from the rooftop.
Jesse turned red. “Now it begins…”
Father Santos looked confused.
Cid explained, “Father, the Espinas are great workers, but they love to pick on Jesse.”
“Ah, I’ve got this,” Father Santos said. He fired off rapid Spanish at the offender, too fast for Cid’s minor knowledge of the language to keep up.
“He said,” Jesse translated, “He’s sorry he doesn’t have time, nor enough penances, to cover the sinful thoughts they have.”
“That should keep them quiet for a while,” Father Santos said. “Gentlemen, I understand you have a problem with a powerful spirit?”
“Father, we had hoped to bring this spirit the justice she needs by now. But, unfortunately, we will only get justice for some, not justice for all,” Calvin said. “We need a little time to get a confession out of the killers who ended Luminosa and her family’s lives.”
“Where was your last sighting of the spirit?” Father Santos asked.
“In front of where the main office building was. Come, I’ll show you.”
“Excuse me,” Dita said, walking over, taking off her work gloves. “I would like to beg forgiveness of the Father for the coarseness of my employee. She was not raised in the faith. Her knowledge of priests is from scary movies.”
“I was not insulted.”
“Father, this is Dita Espina,” Calvin introduced. “Dita, this is Father Santos.”
“Father, have you come to hear the confession of Luminosa Bautista?”
“Yes, child, I have,” Father Santos said.
“She and I had a talk after she behaved so badly. I would like to ask you to remember what it was like to be persecuted, to be made to feel less. When you do, you will understand Luminosa better,” Dita told him. “Come, I last saw her sitting on the hill. Cid, she didn’t stay in that hole in the ground,” Dita said, giving him the stink-eye.
Cid felt guilty. “She must be more powerful than I imagined,” he said lamely.
“She is a woman. She has hidden reserves,” Dita said, motioning for them to follow her.
Luminosa sat under a tree. Her gaze was locked on the town of Stepner, where she was sure her son had fled. He would have taken refuge in the Gazette building, where he used to go after family squabbles.
After she had spoken with Dita, she calmed down. Only then was she able to move about freely again. But High Court still held her, and this spot was the furthest she could travel east. She sat down in frustration and wept.
“My child, why are you so upset? Why do you weep?” Father Santos asked, approaching the ghost.
Luminosa turned. Her eyes got very large. “Father, have you come to send me to hell?”
Father Santos didn’t lie. He just asked another question. “Do you think you should go to hell?”
Instead of answering, Luminosa bowed her head and in Spanish said, “Forgive me, Father, I have sinned. It has been fifty-five years since my last confession.”
Dita drew the others away from the confession. “Come, give them privacy.”
Father Santos appreciated the room, but he was happy with the knowledge that Cid would stay close enough to hear if he was in peril.
After Luminosa had confessed, Father Santos was quiet. “What bothers me, Luminosa, is your thirst for revenge. God said, ‘To me belongeth vengeance and recompense; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste.’”
“Yes, Father, but will God give us the justice we deserve?”
“I think God is working through mankind to give you, not deserved justice, but justice according to man’s law.”
“I broke man’s law. And then I broke God’s law. I asked for help from the devil himself.”
“That was very sinful. I should send you to the Dark World for this, but Cid and Dita have pled your case. Do you want to be forgiven?”
“Yes.”
“Then ask.”
“I already confessed.”
“You need to ask Him,” Father Santos said firmly. “Only He can grant you absolution from a sin this grievous.”
“Yes, Father.”
“I’ll go now. Your killers will soon be here.”
Luminosa’s eyes became dark. Her face showed excitement.
“Remember, hellfire awaits you if you break God’s law. Thou shall not kill. If you can’t follow God’s law, then you will be barred from the Elysian Fields.”
“But soldiers kill, and they are received.”
“There is a difference between a soldier following orders and someone seeking revenge,” Father Santos pointed out. “Give the people helping you time to get a confession from these men. Be patient.”
“‘He that is slow to wrath is of great understanding: but he that is hasty of spirit exalteth folly,’” Luminosa said more for her benefit than to please the priest. “Will my son be here?”
“I don’t know. Word has been sent.”
“I come. I watch. I wait,” Luminosa said and disappeared.
Father Santos stood there a moment and thought things through. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he may have made things worse.
~
Roland looked at the hand-delivered envelope again. He slid his letter opener under the flap and slowly slit the envelope open.
Dear Senator Wilson,
Be advised that I’m in possession of damaging evidence which I purchased from Hank Dodd. If you want to keep your position, come and see me at High Court at 5 PM, and bring your checkbook.
Sincerely,
Calvin Franks
/> PS: Also bring your sergeant-at-arms, Mark Lamb
Mark walked into Roland’s office unannounced and tossed him what looked like a paper very similar to his, but the paper had been torn up before Mark thought the better of it and sealed the pieces back together with Scotch tape.
Dear Mayor Lamb,
As you will soon hear from Senator Wilson, I’m in possession of damaging information which I purchased from Hank Dodd. If you want to keep your position as mayor, come and see me at High Court at 5 PM, and bring your checkbook.
Sincerely,
Calvin Franks
“Doesn’t this guy have enough money?” Roland asked, handing the paper back to Mark. “Maybe we can have him arrested for blackmail.”
Mark sat down, shocked.
Roland started laughing. “Where are your hired thugs?”
“They were supposed to shadow the sheriff. They haven’t been in contact since we took Dodd swimming.”
“You what!”
“I was tired of the leach. He was going to lose it soon. I was trying to stop something like this. Evidently, I was too late.”
“Tell me what happened?”
“I was thinking about what a bore it was, being in bed with Dodd, as I was sitting in my living room. I looked around and centered in on the ashes in the grate - remind me to fire my housekeeper. I scooped some up, took along the boys and…” Mark told the story, ending with, “Today, I called the owner and put a deposit down on a boat called High Time.”
“You’re real piece of work, Mark. Most of your brain was destroyed in the seventies. It’s a miracle you can walk and talk at the same time.”
Mark glared at him. “At least I’m not fucking crazy like you. You’re a sadistic, bastard.”
“What are we going to do about this?” Roland asked, tapping the letter.
“I think we need to introduce Calvin Franks to my little .38 Special.”
“I’m not going to High Court. You know what’s waiting for us there,” Roland reminded Mark.
“I’ve been doing some research. Ghosts can’t hurt you. The physics are all wrong.”
“Still…”
“Come on, let’s go and see what the fucker wants. Maybe we can negotiate. This time, we want all the evidence before we pay anything.”
“Good idea. And I’m changing the meeting to six, just to piss the guy off,” Roland said as he wrote a response to Calvin’s letter.
Calvin’s assistant Barry walked quickly up the drive. He looked at how much the motel had changed in just the last few days and was pleased. He always thought it was a pity to let the old motel go to rot. It had one of the best views in the area. He stopped a moment and looked around. He saw his boss’s car but not him. Barry started walking towards the construction office when a tall broad man with a bigger-than-life mustache exited.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Mr. Franks.”
“And you are?”
“Barry, Barry Bonne, his assistant.”
The large man nodded, opened up the door, and called in, “Any idea where Franks is? His assistant is here.”
“He’s in the security trailer,” another voice replied.
The man looked at Barry and said, “The security trailer is there.” He pointed twenty yards away.
Barry was determined to not let the man know he was annoyed. He turned and walked over. “Construction guys can be so unhelpful,” he thought. “Probably thinks I can’t read the sign that says Security.” He reached up and knocked.
The door was opened by an even bigger man. He pushed the door in with his long, muscled arm and said, “Mr. Franks is inside.”
“Barry! You could have just called,” Calvin said, standing up.
“I received this letter by courier. I thought it must be important.”
Calvin opened the envelope, pulled out the paper, and unfolded it. It took a moment for him to digest the contents. “You were right to bring it over. Now I need you to do something for me,” Calvin said as he refolded the paper. “I need some Manila envelopes - stuff some paper inside, blank is fine. And three big Ziploc bags. Put in some rags to make them look, well, like evidence bags. Oh, and one of those old ledgers I have next to the receipt books.”
“What’s it all for?” Barry asked.
“I’m making something that from a distance will look like evidence.”
“Why?”
“Remember those old coots that visited unannounced?”
“Yes.”
“Well, two of them are coming back. Probably to kill me. I promised to sell them some secrets.”
“Got you,” Barry said, excited. “I’m on it.”
Wayne watched as Barry walked regally past him and then took off running.
“What’s got you so interested?” Jesse asked, leaning out of the trailer.
“Just watching Br’er Rabbit.”
“I thought that was Barry Bonne?”
“He’s twitchy like a rabbit,” Wayne said.
“Then you’re Br’er Bear,” Jesse said. “I’ve always thought you were slow…”
Wayne turned and was about to say something untoward when Cid walked by whistling “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah”. Cid stopped and turned around. “Hey, has anyone updated Kiki?”
“Jesse was supposed to do that,” Wayne said.
“But I thought it would be better to have some good news to go with the bad,” Jesse called out.
“That’s your call, but if I were Kiki, I would want to be updated, bad news or not,” Cid advised.
“On it,” Jesse said, picking up the phone.
~
Kiki put down her phone and walked back into the living room where she had left her sister. They had had a couple of turbulent days. It took a lot of energy to clear the air of years of resentment and misunderstanding. Mimi had problems that wouldn’t be fixed overnight. There would be a lot of therapy that Kiki offered to foot the bill for. She too needed help. But her therapy involved getting her hands on tools.
“Who was that?” Mimi asked.
“Jesse. He was just giving me an update on the renovation,” Kiki answered. “I’m going to have to go back in a few days. I’m going to arrange for Cousin Imelda to come and stay with you.”
“Why? I’m not a baby.”
“No, but you need a filter between you and our parents, the school board, and me.”
Mimi laughed. She gazed at her twin with the new boyish haircut. Kiki was the first to break away from the identical twin look. She had done it a bit dramatically, but Mimi understood the motivation behind it and approved.
“Imelda also says, per her lawyer, that you shouldn’t have lost your job. A transfer to a new location maybe, but you’re owed the income you have lost so far. With your permission, she’s going to help you get back on your feet. I would stay and do this, but I’m rubbish dealing with this kind of thing.”
“My life can’t be fixed with a hammer and a nail,” Mimi said. “But I love you for dropping them when I needed you the most. I don’t know how it got away from me. Or why I do what I do? I don’t want to hurt you, just be better than you.”
“That’s why we also need family therapy. The competitive atmosphere of the Pickles family isn’t normal. Not that we have to be normal. I mean, what is normal…”
“I get it, I get it,” Mimi said to shut down Kiki’s rambling. “I’m better at some things, and you’re better at others. I don’t have to be best at everything.”
Kiki smiled down at her sister. “Tell you what, let’s go shopping. I can’t arrive back with new hair and old clothes. Help me find something so I won’t look too much like our second cousin Tom.”
“It would be my pleasure. High Court won’t know what hit it when you return.”
Chapter Thirty-two
“Both locations are set up,” Cid said, sliding an additional microphone into Calvin’s bolo tie. “This will help pick up the sound that the video cameras miss.”
“Sir,” Marty Newson s
tarted, “I insist that we pat both men down before you speak to them.”
“That may just scare them away.”
“No, they’ll expect it,” Marty said. “In turn, I want you to feel free to open your shirt up to show them you’re not wired.”
“But I am.”
“Not in any way they’ll expect. Remember, these clowns aren’t professionals. All their information comes from books and movies. Maybe the senator has more knowledge than the mayor on recording a meeting, but I assure you, the only thing that bolo tie will evoke is perhaps your dubious taste in clothes.”
Calvin started to laugh. “It tickles me to think, I’m indirectly paying your salary.”
“Black sedan coming up the drive,” Jorge reported.
“Come on, Marty, it’s show time,” Calvin said, taking a moment to straighten his tie.
Mark had been quiet on the drive out to High Court. Roland appreciated the silence but was worried what his old friend was thinking about. Mark’s mind didn’t work like normal minds. Sometimes, he was the engaging mayor of a prosperous resort town, but at others, he was a moody, immature, wild man who spoke before he thought and did things contrary to what the situation would allow. Not that Roland could talk. It was his lack of control that got them all in this mess in the first place. “I see Calvin has a thug with him.”
“That’s his security guard. I better leave the .38 in the car,” Mark said, removing the gun from his pocket and sliding it under the front seat.
“I told you to leave that at home. Did you really think you could get away with murder with all these construction guys around?”
“No,” Mark lied. After all, didn’t they get away with killing seven people here at High Court before?
“Today’s meeting is about terms, assurances, and recon. We need to find out where he has the evidence. We need to demand to see some of it before we even talk about payment.”
“Yes, Roland.”
