by Lisa Boone
“You have a good memory,” he said with a slight southern twang as he casually flipped through the menu. “The waitress I had earlier had to read them off a card. How long have you worked here?”
“Not long,” she said, taking an immediate dislike to the man.
“Have you always been a waitress?” he said, peering at her over the glasses perched on the end of his nose.
She peered at the stranger closer as the feeling of unease she was experiencing grew. She knew him. She was certain of it. He wasn’t a regular, though, she thought trying to place him. She knew everyone who frequented the pub but still there was something familiar about him.
He cleared his throat loudly. “Have you always been a waitress?”
“No, not really.”
He pushed his glasses back up with a finger and looked up at her with an expectant look on his face.
She hesitated a moment before adding, “I used to be a ballerina.”
“A ballerina?” His eyes went wide in disbelief. “Really? You were a ballerina?”
Surprised by his rude reaction, and wondering what was so unbelievable about that, her eyes narrowed.
After a moment, he glanced back down at the menu. “You don’t look like a ballerina, honey.”
Her spine stiffened. “That’s funny. That’s exactly what I said when someone told me you were a magician.”
The smile fled from his face as he looked back up at her. “What did you call me?”
Sarah blinked in surprise at the aggressive tone in his voice. This night just wasn’t getting any better. With a sigh, she asked, “Do you need more time or have you decided what you would like to eat?”
He tossed the menu down. “What I would like to know is why you called me a magician?”
She frowned. “Obviously, I was mistaken.”
With a laugh, his anger, which had come so quickly disappeared just as quickly. “No, you weren’t mistaken. I guess you could call it my nickname.” The man’s lips turned up in the corner as he picked up the menu. “Do you have a nickname?”
“No, no nickname,” she said trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. “Why don’t I give you some more time—”
Snapping his fingers, he leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, “I bet I know what your nickname is.” His grin grew wider as a wary look crossed her face. “Cinderella.”
Sarah froze in place as the memory of the night before flooded her mind. Suddenly, she was back in the locker room. She could feel the cold tile under her feet, his breath on her neck. She backed up a step.
She forced the memory away, unwilling to believe the man before her was the same one who attacked her. He couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be so bold as to announce himself to her in front of everyone. She glanced over at Jamie sitting a few feet away watching them with that same strange look in his eye.
Just a coincidence, she thought, as her heart started hammering against her ribs. It’s common knowledge at the pub she was a ballerina. Anyone could look her up on the internet and discover her connection to Cinderella. Or maybe someone told him …
“Cinderella,” he said in that same sing-songy voice he used last night.
Sarah felt her stomach plummet to the floor and she backed up another step.
The Magician suddenly shook his head, his voice changing, becoming deeper, and losing the accent, as he spoke. “Nah, I don’t know what I was thinking.” He looked her up and down, a look of disgust on his face. “You don’t look like a Cinderella. Maybe a long time ago but not anymore.” He ran his fingers over his chin as though deep in thought. His fingers moved to his cheek. Suddenly, the smile returned. “I know,” he said raising his voice. “I bet everyone calls you Scarface.”
The pub went from a low hum of activity to deathly stillness in a matter of moments. She watched as Emily who was standing nearby turned on her heel and raced toward the back offices.
Feeling everyone’s stares on her back, Sarah’s face reddened. Anger replaced fear. What did she have to fear? People surrounded her. He couldn’t do anything to her here. She stiffened her spine, raised her chin and looked down her nose at the man. “Actually, no, but I spend most of my day with adults.” A motion to her left caught her attention. Jamie had turned his attention away and was studying his phone. She looked at him in disbelief as the man pushed the menu into her hands.
“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” the Magician said, “but maybe if I had a prettier waitress I might get it back.”
There was a bustle of activity behind the stranger as Nathan slammed open the back door and strode toward them with Emily on his heels. He glanced from her to the back of the stranger’s head, anger and barely restrained fury on his face. Sarah looked at him in relief. Good ole Nathan. He may not be the greatest boss but he could always be counted on to look after his employees when they needed him. She watched as he clamped his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Why don’t you get the—” Whatever words Nathan planned on saying died on his lips as the stranger turned in his seat to face him. To Sarah’s surprise, Nathan’s face drained of all color. He snatched back his hand and backed up a couple of steps as a sweat broke out on his forehead. “I, uh … s-s-sorry.” He looked helplessly around for a moment, his gaze landing on Jamie who ignored him as he continued to study his phone. Finding Emily standing at his elbow, he stared at her blankly. “Um, uh, Em-Emily here will serve you.”
Emily’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Give him whatever he wants,” Nathan whispered harshly to her pushing her out in front of him towards the stranger. Over her shoulder, he said. “On the h-house—everything’s on the house.”
To Sarah, he jerked his head towards the offices, motioning for her to follow him.
Sarah stood rooted to the spot, alternately glaring at Jamie and then Nathan in turn before eventually settling on Jamie, hurt that he hadn’t leapt to her defense. He didn’t even try.
Emily, her face a mixture of disgust and fury, reluctantly took the Magician’s order as Sarah followed Nathan back to his office.
“That’s him,” she said as he roughly pulled her into his office. “That’s the guy who attacked me last night.”
He slammed the office door, quickly locking it.
“I need to call the police.” She reached for the phone.
Nathan jumped forward and swiped it off the desk.
“Nathan!”
He ran his hand through his hair, muttering to himself as he ransacked the closet beside the desk. She could barely understand what he was saying but in between the desperate cursing, she could just make out, “Unbelievable … why would Hogan call him? … have to be … nuts to deal with the Magician.” Finding a duffle bag, he threw it on the desk before turning to the office safe. Sarah watched in concern as he hastily threw cash into the bag. “… made a deal with the devil.”
“How do you know this guy?”
Her question went ignored as he packed. “Even Hogan’s crazy ole grandfather knew better than to hire him. What is he thinking?”
“Nathan, who is this man?”
He finally looked up. “What did you do?”
Sarah’s mouth fell open. “Me? I didn’t do anything. He’s the one who attacked me last night.”
“I thought you didn’t see the guy who grabbed you.”
“I didn’t but he spoke and that’s him. I recognize his voice. We have to call the police.”
Nathan’s looked at her sadly. “Don’t bother,” he said. He reached into the safe and pulled out a gun and a box of bullets. “If you go to the police, you’d just be signing your death warrant, not that it makes a difference. He’s obviously planning on killing you anyway. Even if he weren’t planning to kill you, he’s definitely going to do it if he thinks you’re going to call the cops on him. I wouldn’t bother going to the cops if I were you. It never works. He’ll get to you. He always does.” He turned back to the safe. “He never lets witnesses live,” he said stuffing more mo
ney into the bag. “Never. You know why they call Fletcher the Magician? It’s because he makes people disappear. Permanently. The man’s dangerous and crazy to boot. You don’t mess with him and if you’re stupid enough to do so, you’ll die.”
Sarah felt her blood run cold as she glanced at the door in helpless frustration. “I don’t even know this man. Why did he attack me last night?”
Nathan’s brow furrowed as he loaded the gun. “I have no idea. I’m sorry, Sarah. I really am. I always liked you.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “I’m not dead yet, Nathan.”
“You might as well be.” Breathing heavily, fear still etched across his face, Nathan ran a trembling hand through his hair again. “Look, I’m going to give you some advice. Disappear. Go find an island somewhere and get away.”
Sarah rubbed her hands down her arms as a chill came over her. She started to open her mouth to speak but stopped and stared at the door. “Did you hear that?”
Nathan froze. He cocked his head to the side while raising his gun toward the door. Hearing only the sound of the jukebox playing in the dining room, he slowly relaxed and returned to packing. “I may get out of this, but unless you run, you don’t have a chance.”
“I have Jamie,” she said softly.
Nathan made a face. “I have Jamie,” he mimicked. “You sound just like my wife and sister-in-law. Jamie is a has been. He’s washed up. I’ll admit he talks a good game now—had me convinced he was back to his old self—but you saw him out there. He didn’t lift a finger to help. You know why? He’s a coward. He’s isn’t some knight in shining armor anymore. Five or six years ago, he might have been able to take Fletcher but not now. Have you seen the way he lets Danny and Moose push him around? He practically falls over himself trying to get away from them. He’s a pathetic loser. You know how prison is supposed to make a hard man harder? Well, Jamie went in the complete opposite direction. I had hoped he could take care of Hogan for me, but that was before Fletcher showed up.” He made a face as he picked up the bag and walked toward the door. “Looks like I’ve got to handle this on my own. I can get out of this. I always do, but you …” He unlocked the door. “You need to run. Jamie can’t help you. Fletcher would wipe the floor with him.”
They jumped in surprise as something heavy hit the door, causing the dust around the doorframe to rain down around them.
Gripping the gun tightly, Nathan gave Sarah a nervous look as the sound of breaking glass and screaming could now be heard over the jukebox. Swallowing hard, Nathan raised the gun and aimed it at the door. The gun shook in Nathan’s hand as he tentatively walked to the door and unlocked it. He backed up a step as something heavy pushed the door open.
Sarah inclined her head to the side and peeked out, surprised to find that the door to the dining room was off its hinges and pushing the office door forward.
Nathan let the door fall to the floor before cautiously stepping forward. They crept towards the dining room, their eyes widening in surprise at the destruction in front of them.
From Sarah’s vantage point in the hallway standing behind Nathan, she could see a handful of customers were lined up against the wall, desperately trying to edge along the wall towards the door. They broke out into a run as soon as they reached the door.
Emily was perched on top of the bar holding a tray protectively in front of her, a shocked expression on her pretty face as she looked down at the floor where a couple of guns lay discarded among broken chairs, tables and dishes and drops of blood.
Danny appeared behind her suddenly as a police siren could be heard in the distance. He vaulted over the bar, quickly swiping the guns before making his way to Nathan and Sarah.
Nathan dragged Danny into the hallway. He pushed him to the back door with orders to go home before returning to the dining room.
Sarah followed him, her gaze immediately travelling to the center of the room where the Magician lay with his hand pressed against his cheek trying to stem the flow of blood pouring out between his fingers. He gave a guttural animal sounding scream of pain and frustration as he glared up at the man standing over him with a broken bottle in his hand and a giant grin on his face.
The police siren grew louder until finally it drowned out the music from the jukebox and flashing blue lights from the window filled the street outside.
Jamie causally tossed the broken bottle to the side and raised his hands as two police officers rushed through the door.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ashton sat down at the small conference table and looked through the file she compiled on Jamie the day before. She glanced over at her sister as she paced through the small room located on the second floor of the county courthouse. “Would you stop pacing and sit down. You’re making me nervous. The bailiff’s going to let us see Jamie before his arraignment, so just relax.”
“You’re going to get him out of here, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll just wave my magic wand.” She flipped a page. “I didn’t say I would represent him.”
“Then why did you come?”
“To keep you company.”
“Jamie doesn’t deserve to be here, Ashton,” she said, her eyes pleading with her sister.
Ashton tapped her finger against the file. “Have you read his criminal record?”
“Yes, I have. I looked at it while you were asleep last night. It still doesn’t change how I feel about him.”
Ashton’s brow furrowed as she looked at the page in front of her.
Noticing Ashton’s expression, Sarah sat down next to her. “What are you looking at?”
“Jamie’s new charges. They charged him with felony assault and a host of other crimes. Any number of which, if he’s convicted, will revoke his probation. I hate to tell you this but it doesn’t look good, Sarah. The victim—”
“The victim?” Sarah snorted. “You mean the Magician?”
“Hank Fletcher is the name he gave the cops.”
“I don’t care what he calls himself. He’s no victim. He was the one who attacked me the other night.”
“The cop who interviewed him last night told me that he has an alibi. Apparently, he has several witnesses who claim they were with him at the time you were attacked.”
“They’re lying. He’s the one.”
Ashton glanced at her. “Are you sure?”
“I recognized his voice.”
Ashton raised her finger. “Not right away, you didn’t. You said it took a while.”
Frustrated, Sarah said, “That’s because he wasn’t using the same voice. He changed it on me.” She crossed her arms. “I know it was him. I can’t believe they let him go. What about his criminal record? Surely, he has one.”
“Oh, he has a criminal record.” Ashton turned to another file lying on the table. “He’s been indicted for murder or assault several times in the last twenty years, but he’s only been convicted once in all that time.”
“Murder?”
“Kidnapping, rape, and assault. Happened ten years ago. Fletcher served out his time and was released a couple of years ago. The last time he was in the court system was last year when New York charged him with murder. Apparently, as soon as he was released from prison, he hunted down the girl who had accused him of kidnapping her and killed her. Not sure how she died, since they never found her body. All they know is that she disappeared without a trace a week after he got out.”
“Maybe she ran away,” Sarah said softly.
“They found her blood on the walls of her bedroom and on the floor leading to the back door. They just never were able to find her body. Resulted in a hung jury that time. Not enough evidence to convict. Fletcher had witnesses who testified he was with them in Europe during the time frame she disappeared.” She shut the file she had compiled on Fletcher. “We have the same problem with your case. There’s simply not enough evidence to charge Fletcher with assaulting you.”
“But I recognized his voice,” Sarah repeated.
“B
ut not at first and it didn’t help that you didn’t immediately call the police as soon as you realized who he was.”
“I tried but Nathan stopped me,” she grumbled.
“Well, unfortunately, now the cops think you’re only accusing Fletcher in an attempt to excuse or deflect attention from your boyfriend’s crime.”
Sarah rubbed her hand across her face. “Jamie’s not my boyfriend.”
Ashton lifted an eyebrow. “You could have fooled me. You’re certainly acting like he is.”
Sarah eyed her sister. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours, which is why I’m here,” Ashton said returning to Jamie’s file, “however reluctantly.”
Sarah closed her eyes. “Ashton, as long as the Magician or whatever his name is out there, I’m in danger. He’s going to kill me and then I’m going to disappear just like his other victims.” She looked at her sister, stressing each word as she said, “I need Jamie.”
Ashton closed her eyes. “I’ll talk to him. Okay?”
Sarah smiled in relief as she hugged her sister. “Thank you.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. His probation officer is waiting outside. I’m not sure what I’ll be able to do for him.”
They looked to the side as the door opened and a bailiff ushered Jamie inside. He sat down, looking less than thrilled to see either one of them, as the bailiff closed the door. His gaze settled on Ashton. “What are you doing here?”
Before Ashton could respond, Sarah said, “Ashton’s agreed to represent you.”
“I said that I would talk to him,” Ashton said.
“So, talk,” Sarah said, gesturing to Jamie.
Ashton reached for a pencil and her pad of paper. “All right, what happened last night?”
Jamie shrugged. “Fletcher slipped and fell, and I was trying to help him back up when the police arrived.”
Ashton snorted. “Oh, well, then you don’t need me,” Ashton said, picking up her folder.
Sarah grabbed her sister’s arm before she could stand up and walk away. “Ashton, please don’t.”
“Sarah,” Ashton said patiently, “I can’t help him if he’s going to lie to me.”
