by Kelly Shade
JANE BLAKE
Blood, a bullet, and a true sinner . . .
By Kelly Shade
Copyright
COPYRIGHT © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form and by any means without the prior written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in the publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter 1 - The mansion
Chapter 2 - Blake & Gray
Chapter 3 - First of many . . .
Chapter 4 - The Wesley’s
Chapter 5 - Beauty, beauty . . .
Chapter 6 - He’ll come back again!
Chapter 7 - Bloody Jewels
Chapter 8 - H.G. Rewera
Chapter 9 - Mike’s boy
Chapter 10 - You are one of us…
Chapter 11 - Do you trust me?
Chapter 12 - I’ll show you smart!
Chapter 13 - We all bleed the same!
Chapter 14 - Professional liar
Chapter 15 - Back to Chicago
Chapter 16 - Drop by drop . . .
Chapter 17 - “The ‘I-know-who-the-killer-is’ expression.”
Chapter 18 - The truest sinner of them all . . .
Chapter 19 - Am I like him?
Chapter 20 - Game on . . .
Chapter 21 - The cold green eyes . . .
Chapter 1.
The mansion
The setting sun threw red and orange gleaming streaks on the calm water’s surface. It looked as if the ocean was on fire. The light breeze was swaying the topmost branches of the trees, and the only movement in this still scene was the frantic preparations_the Jefferson’s mansion was ready for а party. A red carpet was spread on the steps in front of the main entrance; the valets were prepared to welcome the guests, the waiters were holding vast, cluttered trays, everything was set for Mrs. Jefferson’s 50th birthday.
She was a pompous, rich lady with silver gray hair drawn back into a tight bun at the back of her head, an ankle-length red dress encrusted with diamond-like stones, and a gorgeous ruby necklace was laying on her chest. Her husband, Mr. Jefferson, a tall, gray-haired man with a motionless face and pig-like eyes, welcomed the guests with a cold handshake. The missus was walking back and forth, waiting for her sons to arrive, when she almost bumped into her oldest one, Brad, а tall and skinny man with a weird hairstyle made with too much hair gel; he was arrogant and bold and wore an expensive suit and a glib smile.
“Hello, Mother!”
“Oh, there you are, Brad! Where is your brother?”
“He went to get some girl with the town car.”
“Huh, wonderful! Another whore I suppose . . . again . . .”
A white Lincoln stopped in front of the mansion. Immediately, the driver got out to open the door for the youngest of the Jefferson’s_Mike. He got out of the car, and he gave a hand to the girl inside. Mike was just your typical, spoiled rich kid; tall, muscular, with а pink formal shirt and tight jeans, enormous diamond-encrusted watch, and sunglasses with frames covered in gems. The girl with him took his hand and slowly got out of the car. A slender, beautiful woman with black shiny waist-length hair, big expressive green eyes, and a million-dollar smile. She was wearing a long black cocktail dress and black sandals with very thin high heels.
“Jane, I want to introduce you to my family, but keep in mind, that they are very distant people so don’t expect much,” he mumbled while they were walking to the front door.
“Well, after all, I’m here for your mother’s birthday. I hope this will break the ice.” She smiled and added, “You have beautiful roses here.”
The yard in front was astonishing. The dim yard lights were casting colorful gleams on the red carpet. The two small fountains were shaped like dolphins and the garden of colorful flowers was the background that completed this fairytale scene.
Jane and Mike went to the house and immediately approached Mrs. and Mr. Jefferson.
“Mother, I’d like you to meet Jane; she is an old friend of mine,” he said in a proud tone as if he was speaking to a royalty.
“And how come I have never met her?” his mother hissed.
“She just came back from abroad. Be nice, Mother!”
“It is a pleasure, Mrs. Jefferson!” interrupted Jane, deciding to nip the coming altercation in the bud. “Happy birthday! I would say that I wish you all the best, but as I can see you already have all that anyone could dream of!” she said commendably, looking at the house and gently stroking Mike’s shoulder.
“Thank you, dear!” Mrs. Jefferson was flattered and couldn’t hide her surprise. “This one is clever, well-done son! Oh, and could you be a dear and fetch your brother for me. I don’t want him to miss your father’s speech!” she said imperiously and went away.
The interior of the mansion was by itself a piece of art. Hanging on the walls of the hallways were paintings of Rembrandt and Picasso and Jane was sure that she saw a Van Gogh through the open door of the downstairs bathroom. The many sculptures in all sizes and colors, the Chinese vases set in odd places and the marble fountain in the atrium showed the tasteless boasting of the house’s owners. And of course the huge oil painting of the family in a golden frame. It covered half of the wall over the fireplace and completed that feeling of total lack of respect for the art. But Jane wasn’t interested in the priceless pieces of art nor in the terrifying portrait of the four Jeffersons. She looked around for surveillance cameras. She could count at least ten.
“Brad, Mother said you have to be here for our father’s speech! If you disappear again, guess who she’ll blame? Again!” She heard Mike scolding his older brother a few steps behind her.
“I’ll be back in a little bit, don’t go anywhere!” He finished and saw that Jane was standing alone. With a pretend smile and a few quick steps, he was next to her.
“You already look bored out of your mind” he said trying not to look anxious. “Would you like to sit at the bar and have a drink?”
“That would be great!” Jane was expecting just that.
“Martini I suppose?” asked Mike as they sat down. He didn’t even wait for Jane’s answer and just turned to the bartender, “Water for me and for the lady . . .”
“Whiskey neat, please,” Jane said interrupting him before he could finish his sentence.
Mike lifted his eyebrows in astonishment, but he didn’t say anything. Jane gently wrapped her fingers around the glass, took a deep, long breath and spoke softly.
“Mike, I need you to relax and listen to my voice.” She tapped his leg twice and started playing with the ice cubes in her glass, spinning them round and round. “Can you hear it?” The cracking noise was so relaxing and her voice so soothing, that he stopped hearing the music. “It makes you think . . . how easy your brain can ignore everything around you . . . there is no music . . . no people . . . there is just me and the sound of the ice cubes in the whiskey . . . no one and nothing else.”
Jane was staring into his eyes, waiting for him to be in deep relaxation. His pupils were getting as wide as possible and then, just in a millisecond, they shrank to the size of a pin. He was ready. After a moment he couldn’t hear anything but the cracking noise and her calm voice. “Now, Mike, you need to go and drink a whole bottle of gin. The only thing that you will remember tomorrow morning is that you asked me to accompany you to your mother’s birthday so that you
can annoy your brother. That’s all you’ll have as a memory, nothing else.” She tapped his leg twice again, took a sip of her whiskey and whispered in his ear, “You may go now.”
His pupils widened a little. He looked as if he had just woken up. He looked at her for a second, his eyes glassy as marbles, and turned to the bartender ordering what he was told. His brother, Brad, saw him and headed their way as quickly and calmly as he could. When he reached his younger brother, he tried to talk him out of his plan of gobbling the whole bottle. Jane had already left her seat and moved to the other end of the bar.
She was waiting to see the anger in Brad’s eyes, and a minute later there it was. Mike was an alcoholic, and he had been clean for almost a year. His brother knew that if Mike started drinking again, the media scandal wasn’t far off and this would ruin the family. For Brad, all that mattered in life was money and reputation. His face was red and the narrow slits he called eyes became even smaller.
Jane could see his hands shaking and how he was suppressing the urge to knock his brother out cold. The older brother was blaming Jane for all of this, just because there wasn’t anyone else. That was her plan all along, and it worked beautifully. He was out of his comfort zone. She needed him in this state of mind because Brad was the smarter of both brothers and she couldn’t bring him under her control if he were at ease.
Brad and Mike were in the middle of a heated argument at the other end of the bar. Jane was patiently waiting for the right time to make her move. And it seemed that moment was coming quicker than she had anticipated because Mike suddenly stood up, took the bottle that was in front of him, said something angrily to his brother and stormed out. Brad grabbed his forehead with his hand, shaking with rage. When he turned to face Jane, their eyes met. He was looking at her as if trying to burn a hole through her.
Not two seconds later he headed toward her, but at that moment his father grabbed his shoulder and gave him a furious look. Mr. Jefferson held a glass of champagne in one hand and a microphone in the other. Turning to the crowd, he said: “Ladies and gentlemen, I want to congratulate my lovely wife on her 50th birthday!” His monotonous voice echoed through the house. “Happy birthday, my dear! I want to give you your first present, fifty diamonds for each of the fifty wonderful years in which you are making the world a more beautiful place!” Mrs. Jefferson was standing next to him with a fake smile on her face; she gave him a peck on the cheek and quietly squealed from the suspense. She, of course, was anxious to get her hands on the diamonds. He gestured to one of his bodyguards, and he quickly brought him a little red velvet jewelry bag. “Here they are, darling_fabulous three-carat diamonds!” he said. His voice showed no emotion as he handed them over to her.
The wealthy lady’s eyes were tearing up at the pure ecstasy of knowing what she had just received. Mrs. Jefferson opened the bag, poured the precious stones in her hand and with her chin being lifted as high as possible, showed them to the guests. For her, life was expensive jewelry, art, clothes and almost anything you could think of that had a huge price tag. The crowd oohed and aahed at the site of the gems. That was all she needed from them. Her Botox-filled face stretched into an adder smile.
Mr. Jefferson left her to admire her gift for a minute before calling his oldest son. Jane observed them very carefully. She read his lips, “Brad, put them in the safe; you know the combination.” His son nodded and went upstairs for a few minutes. Jane was waiting for him. She was still sitting calmly at the bar, nursing her whiskey and staring at the mirror in front of her.
She saw Brad coming. When he was at arm’s length from her, he asked “Is this seat taken?” while checking her out from head to toes with an ugly grin on his mug.
“Now, tell me what did you do to my brother?” Brad waived at the bartender.
“What do you mean?” Jane was as calm as a mill pond.
“I want to know, who the hell are you, and why did my brother drag you here on our mother’s birthday? Something’s not right with you, and I’ll get to the bottom of it with or without your help. So you better start talking!”
“Okay, no need for threats! I will tell you all you need to know, Brad” she had a devious smile on her face “But now let’s see what you have to tell me first!” Jane quickly reached out and gently tapped him three times on the shoulder. His pupils instantly dilated to the point where his irises were completely gone. Jane knew what that meant and started rolling her ring on her knuckles, slowly flipping it back and forth from finger to finger and then again and again until Brad was as pale as a corpse; he wasn’t on the same plain as Jane anymore.
“Brad, I know you have been a very, very bad boy! Let’s get you back to the last nasty thing you did. Close your eyes and relive it!” Jane was looking into his eyes. He was trying to resist, to fight, but he couldn’t. It was as if an invisible chains were holding him down on the chair. His lips were moving, but only a quiet yowling was coming out of his mouth. Brad couldn’t fight anymore; he surrendered and closed his eyes.
“Tell me about the pretty blond; try to relive the day you met her,” Jane’s voice was so calm and intoxicating, so peaceful and relaxing.
“I was at a bar downtown with my friends,” he breathed deeply. “We were drinking and dancing.”
“Which song was playing?”
“It was some house music track, a long one, don’t know the name,” he tried to make the rhythm. “My friend had coke on him, and asked if I wanted some. I sure did. I sniffed a line, then one more, and it felt like I could do anything I wanted . . . I was strong, invincible. I kept dancing and dancing, and I didn’t know what was happening around me. It was just me and no one and nothing else in the world until I saw her. She was gorgeous, sexy, blond . . . and these long legs of hers . . . oh my God!” he breathed heavily. “I wanted her. We danced. I kissed her . . . I invited her to go outside with me . . . she was okay with it. She wanted it too. We went out together . . . we were in the alley behind the bar . . . she was so drunk . . .”
Brad suddenly stopped talking. He was trying to open his eyes and break free from the trance. Drops of sweat were dripping down his forehead. His heart was beating furiously. Jane could see the vein on his neck throbbing.
“Remember the music, Brad. Could you still hear it from outside?” Jane wanted to keep him in this state. She thought she lost him and she hurried to get whatever info she could before he became conscious. “Tell me what happened afterward.”
“We . . . we . . . we started making out.” He was still under. “She was playing hard to get . . . but I knew she was easy. That short skirt wasn’t there for no reason; she wanted it as bad as I did. I pushed her against the wall next to the dumpsters. She fought me. That got me mad, and I ripped her shirt off . . .” Brad wanted to stop talking but he couldn’t “She kicked me . . . the bitch kicked me in the nuts . . . And then I . . . I . . .“ his face got red; his hands shook uncontrollably.
“Then what, Brad. It’s okay, you can trust me. I will help you, I want to help you,” spoke Jane soothingly, but she knew that it wouldn’t be much longer until her puppet was free.
“I stabbed her in the neck with my pocket knife . . . and then again . . . and again . . . and again . . . There was blood everywhere. I saw how her eyes were dying down slowly . . . . There was so much blood all over me, but I didn’t care . . . I wanted to watch her die, there, surrounded by garbage bags. She was gone in a minute. I was enjoying every second of it. I ripped her bloody earring out from her ear . . . I needed a trophy, a memory of this, of my first murder . . .” he made a grim smile and a squeak of enjoyment, which sounded like a chuckle. “Then I called my father. He yelled at me over the phone, but I didn’t care. He came as fast as he could. His bodyguard spilled some kind of acid on her body. My father said that would erase all the evidence that showed I was with her_fingerprints, hair, DNA . . . everything. He went to the owner of the bar and told me to wait in the car_I was covered in blood! When he came back, he said that it was all settle
d and I wasn’t at that club at all. He repeated that a few times. Then we went home. I can’t stop thinking about it. The smell of the blood, the way it stuck between my fingers. It was magnificent. I don’t know why I haven’t tried it before . . . to play God . . .” He made the same squeaking noise. That sick bastard was enjoying every moment of recalling that memory.
“Okay, Brad . . . now I want you to go get the earring and hide it in your father’s safe. It will be the place where nobody would find it, nobody would know,” said Jane softly. “And you have to take your mother’s diamonds. They are in danger there. You have to hide them. Between the flowers next to the beautiful fountain in the courtyard looks like a great spot. You have to protect the diamonds. Your mother will be so proud of you, don’t you think?” His glassy eyes turned to her, and he nodded with a smile. “Then join your brother for a drink. He needs you on his side.” Jane tapped his shoulder three times again and turned her back to him as if they hadn’t talked at all.
Brad looked like he had just woken up from a weird dream; he couldn’t understand what happened. Even though he felt baffled, deep down he knew that he had to do something. He had no idea what was so important to him right now, but it felt like he had to hurry up to do it. He turned to Jane. She was smiling at him, and so he smiled back, not remembering that she was his arch enemy moments ago.
“We can talk some other time if there is something you need to get to now,” she said with a soft voice.
Brad had no clue they already had had a conversation. He thought he just now sat next to her. He took a few steps back and forth as if he didn’t know what he had to do, but suddenly his eyes lit up, and he almost sprinted to the last place he had seen his brother.
Jane finished her whiskey and looked around. The waiters were hurrying around with plates champagne glasses in their hands. In the jumble, she could spot a guy with a funny tie, who apparently didn’t fit in the whole picture. He was wearing different trousers from the other waiters, his posture was different and the way he handled the tray. “You made my day” she starched her lips into a barely noticeable smile. “Game on then.”
