“Oh, my God…” Josephine whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Joey…” He spoke in a much clearer voice, once more turning to her. “Don’t be sorry. Just find that damn cure.”
“We had a breakthrough, two days ago.” Josephine informed. “I can’t get into details; I’d show you more if we were in my lab, but we managed to reactivate inactive brain neurons. It lasted about thirty seconds. I guess it’s a start.”
“Good job.” Tim gave an appraising nod. “Is that why you guys were cheering?”
“Yeah,” Josephine snorted. “It’s the closest thing we have to a cure. It’s going to take some time, but I think we are on the right track.”
“Well, you’d better be.” He laughed. “Can we go to New York now? I forgot to mention that my sister Caitlin lives there.”
“Great!” She chirped. “I’d love to meet her. Big Apple, here we come.”
19
A few minutes outside of New York, Tim called Jon and arranged to meet with him late that night. He also wanted to see Darryl Kirkland, Paul’s assassin, but Jon maintained that he had tried to reach him over the phone several times and he was unreachable. At any rate, Tim had to visit his friend’s apartment in Queens, in order to give him his answer about the burglary in North Haven. He wouldn’t discuss it over the phone and they would afterwards talk through the details of the operation. As much as he hated it, Tim would have to swallow his impatience and wait for at least another day to get some answers from Kirkland.
Caitlin and Josephine seemed to get along very well, right from the start. Helped by the fact that they had each taken classes under Jitter, as their college professor, they soon started sharing stories from his classes and college in general. Tim felt left out, but he didn’t mind. Seeing them in such great spirits pleased him. More importantly though, it gave him the necessary time to focus on the task at hand: breaking into a luxurious mansion in one of the most expensive suburbs in New York was the most challenging job he had ever planned. He would have to consider many factors: time; surrounding houses; traffic; and especially, the police presence in the area. Despite all the adversities that he would have to face, he knew that he could rely on Jon. He was a fantastic driver and an exceptional hacker indeed.
The elevator door in Jon’s old apartment building closed heavily behind him, as he stepped out of the empty car on the second floor. Tim knocked on his friend’s door, wondering at the same time why he had been living in such a cheap, neglected building. Even the brown, wooden door was faded and a few chunks of wood were missing.
“Heeey, big Tim!” Jon cheered, answering his door. “How are you, man? Come on in.”
“Hi, Jonny,” Tim winked at him, following him into his small living room. “You’d think that a kickass burglar like you would live in some big, fancy apartment. Why the hell did you choose this dump?”
“It doesn’t attract too much attention.” Jon pointed out, brushing past him. “Take a seat.” He continued, pointing at the couch to the right.
“So…” Tim started, seating himself next to his friend. “I’ve been thinking. Let’s do it.”
“Yes!” Jon punched the air. “That’s what I’m talking about, baby!”
“How much money are we talking about here?” Tim asked, slightly leaning over him.
“I don’t know, Tim,” Jon shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t know for sure. But, he’s been dealing drugs for years. There must be more than one million in his vault.”
“One million dollars?” Tim opened his eyes wide in surprise.
“Yeah, maybe even more.” Jon said with a nod. “I need to talk to you about that security system. You’ll have to do all the heavy lifting all by yourself.”
“What else is new?” Tim smiled. “Man, I’ve been dying to meet that Kirkland guy.”
“Damn…” Jon groaned, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I forgot to mention. I found him; he’s on his way over.”
His friend’s last sentence lifted a weight off his shoulders. Tim sighed in relief, leaning his back against the couch.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while” he stated, running his hand through his hair. “When did you guys talk?”
“About fifteen minutes ago. He lives nearby.” Jon said. At that moment, his doorbell rang. Tim arose to his imposing, 6’2” stature, eagerly anticipating to finally meeting the mysterious hitman. When Jon answered his door however, he realized that he was nothing like he expected: Darryl Kirkland was much older than him and quite short, not more than 5’7” and rather thin for his build.
“Darryl, this is my good buddy Tim. Tim, this is Darryl.” Jon introduced them. “You guys need something to drink?”
“I’m good, thanks.” Darryl said, offering his hand to Tim. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hey, Darryl,” Tim replied, his voice dropping down an octave as he shook his hand. “Just some water for me,” he added, turning to his friend.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Darryl spoke in a hoarse voice.
“I was going to say the same thing,” Tim claimed, as Jon made his way to the kitchen. “My friend here says that you’re one of the best in the business. Does it pay well?”
“That depends on the client,” Darryl responded, his voice calm and steady. “I charge the rich a hell of a lot more. Why?”
“Just curious,” Tim maintained, looking down into his cold, grey eyes. “Was your last client rich?”
“No.” He was quick to reply. “She wasn’t rich, really.”
“She?” Tim squinted at him. “Your last client was a woman?”
“That’s right.” Darryl gave a decisive nod. “Our mutual acquaintance said she was a scientist or something.”
The assassin’s answer baffled him. It contradicted his theory of Burt Maddox being behind Jitter’s assassination. The number of questions in his mind was growing by the second, as he recalled the fatal night. Still, deep down, Tim knew that he would not get many more answers by being polite. Darryl Kirkland was a total stranger to him, but he had met a few men like him in the past. No assassin ever betrays his client’s trust. It’s a matter of professionalism.
Tim took a big step towards him, maintaining eye contact. Quickly lifting his arms, he grabbed him by the collar of his coat. He spun him around once and threw him against the wall to the left. Darryl landed hard on his right hand side, letting out a scream of agonizing pain. But Tim was not done with him. He sprinted across the living room, as Darryl rolled onto his back. Stopping directly over him, Tim bent his knees, clenching his fists and sat on Darryl’s chest. Tim threw his right arm, rotated it mid-way and laid a powerful jab in the eye of a stunned Darryl.
“Tim, what the fuck!” Jon cried, reentering his living room.
“Alright, Kirkland,” Tim grumbled, as he grabbed him by the throat. “I suggest you start talking, before I really lose my patience. What was her name?”
“I don’t…” Darryl gasped. “I don’t know!”
“Wrong answer!” His powerful voice rumbled like thunder, before he landed a second, tremendous punch to Kirkland’s jaw. Tim hit him so hard that his head snapped to the side. “Try again!” He yelled, tightening his grip on his throat.
“Dude, you’re killing him!” Jon interjected, running towards them.
“Ok…” A low gasp left Darryl’s lips, as a drop of blood rolled down his cheek. Tim loosened his grip, feeling his blood boil in his veins and pound in his temples.
“I met her in an underground parking lot in Manhattan.” Darryl confessed. “It was dark. She was about my height; she had brown hair, I think. I swear; I don’t know her name. She paid me $50,000 to take him out.”
Tim was shocked to his very core. The woman that Kirkland had just described sounded a lot like Josephine. Tim let go of Darryl. Dropping his face into his hands, Tim found himself unable to believe what he had just heard. He couldn’t even find the strength to move. Jon g
rabbed Tim by the wrist and tried to drag him away from the unfortunate, battered man. Only then did Tim get up on his knees.
“Tim, what is it, man?” Jon said, gasping for breath.
“Nothing,” the thief muttered, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. “I just figured something out. I have to go.”
He spun around and stormed out of his friend’s apartment, trying hard to come to grips with the possibility that Josephine could be the one who had Jitter killed. Still, he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that some points were very wrong with Kirkland’s story. How did Josephine suddenly come up with $50,000? That is a lot of money for an underpaid biologist like her. At the same time, he realized that he had not checked whether what she had said to him about her deceased fiancé was true or not.
Damn it, Tim! She fed you some story about him being gay and you bought it? Why? What the hell is wrong with you? I wanted to believe it. She seemed honest; she even cried when she talked about him. Wait a minute. She said something about the things she’s done, back in that bar. What did she mean by that? I’m going crazy here! I need to see you, Joey. And you’d better have some good explanation about all this…
20
Luckily for Tim, traffic was light; he arrived at his sister’s apartment building in just a few minutes. He was so impatient to see Josephine that he didn’t even wait for the elevator. Regardless of what she had to say to him though, jumping to conclusions would definitely harm his relationship with her. He had worked really hard to convince her to date him and they were great together. Should he accuse her of anything, there was a good chance that he might lose her forever. Tim had to be subtle; otherwise, he and Josephine could well have a huge fight, one that they could never recover from.
In the hope that his new girlfriend was still up, he unlocked his sister’s front door. He found Josephine looking out the window of the living room, watching the rain, with her arms crossed over her chest. Tim sucked in a deep breath, understanding that he was about to have one of the most difficult conversations of his life.
“Heyyy!” She sang, turning around to face him.
“Hi…” He croaked, sauntering towards her. “Where’s Caitlin?”
“She went to bed an hour ago.” Josephine replied in her usual sweet and feminine voice, as she gave him a short kiss on the lips. “How did it go?”
“I met Jon; I also met the guy who took out Jitter. He said his client was a woman. The woman he described sounded a lot like …” Tim faltered. “A lot like you.”
“What?” All of a sudden, her voice became very high-pitched. “No, Tim! I had nothing to do with it!”
“I have a few questions.” He spoke, his voice commanding. “Do you mind?”
“What, you don’t believe me?” She answered his question with a question, her voice filled with surprise, as she opened her eyes wide.
“Joey, please.” Tim said in his low and deep voice. “Humor me, will you?”
“Please, wait here.” She requested. “I need to go get my laptop.”
“Ok.” He sighed. The few seconds that it took for her to return felt like an eternity. Tim kept racking his brain about the things he had been meaning to ask her, curious as to what she wanted to show him on her laptop. She sat on the couch and turned it on, just before a crack of thunder tore through the night.
“Come sit next to me,” Josephine said, looking up at him. He obliged, feeling his curiosity growing by the second. “I really don’t know why anyone would say that nonsense about me.”
“They didn’t,” Tim said slowly. “The guy just described a brunette, about 5’7”. He didn’t see her face. He said he met her in Manhattan.”
“My last visit to New York was back in 2013.” She stated, typing something on her laptop. “How much do you know about computers?”
“Just the basics,” Tim stated.
“I take it you’ve heard of encrypted files, then.” Josephine concluded.
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “You need passwords for those.”
“Exactly,” She pointed out in an emphatic tone. “What you may not know is that there are files with dozens of encryption layers. Paul had a PhD in Computer Science. It would take a genius to hack into his computer. Anyway, he kept his private moments in password-protected files. If he hadn’t given me the password, I wouldn’t have been able to open them. Here, take a look.”
Josephine pressed the “Enter” button one last time, upon finishing her sentence. A directory containing a few dozens of pictures of Paul and his lover appeared on the screen. In most of them, they were hugging or even kissing. There was also a video in the bottom left corner, titled “To my Josephine”.
“Play that video, will you?” He requested.
“I’m warning you.” She heaved a long, deep sigh. “I get emotional, every time I watch that.”
“What am I here for?” Tim whispered, circling his arm around her neck. The inner part of a hand popped up on the screen. Apparently, someone was adjusting the camera angle. Not long afterwards, Paul’s face entered the frame, from left to right, before he took a seat in a brown, leather armchair. If anything, he looked relaxed, as he smiled to the camera across from him.
“Hello, my dear Josephine.” He started, his calm voice bringing tears to her eyes. “It’s very early in the morning. You’re still asleep; I didn’t want to wake you. Our engagement party exhausted you; our last guests left just a few minutes ago.
As always, I’m going to be honest with you. You deserve it. I’d like to thank you for what you did for me. Agreeing to this charade was very noble of you. I don’t know what I would do without you. I didn’t mean to put anyone through this, but I had to do something about those rumors. You know how harsh people can be. If they ever find out the truth about me, I will be utterly humiliated and my work would be discredited. Not everybody can be as open-minded as you, I’m afraid.
Now, I’d like to give you my opinion on something that has been bothering me for a long time. We’ve already discussed it a few times; I know your views on the matter and frankly? You couldn’t be more wrong.
You are an incredible scientist, my dear Josephine. You’re the brightest student I’ve ever had. But, you’re human. And humans have needs. You shouldn’t be working so hard. You need to get out of the lab from time to time. Meet people. You know how much I love my job, but I cannot even imagine my life without my Jason.
I need to go now. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Please, follow my advice. You will see that having a social life can be very rewarding…”
“Poor Paul…” Josephine whispered, as two tears streamed down her cheeks. Tim pulled her closer for a side hug, caressing her shoulder. Riddled with guilt, he tried to comfort her, as she put her head on his shoulder.
“I feel like a total jerk.” Tim confessed in a voice now a soft, breathless whisper. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok.” She assured him, wiping the tears off her face. “You had to know. I still can’t think of anyone who would want him dead.”
“Me neither.” Tim said, reaching out to grab her laptop. He picked it up and eased it down on the table in front of them.
“Can I ask you a favor?” Josephine whispered, as he leaned his back against the couch.
“Sure.”
“Hold me.” She added, sliding her hand up his stomach. “I feel so safe in your arms.”
“Come here.” He muttered, squeezing her shoulder. She swung her right leg over him, sitting on his lap and snuggling close, as he fastened his arms around her waist. Tim closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of her warm body in his embrace. Neither of them spoke. He smiled to himself, feeling her breath on his neck, enjoying the closeness. Only seconds into their romantic moment, he could hear her breath. A sense of protectiveness of her overflowed from his heart and burst through his ribcage. The sensations sent him into uncharted realms of bliss; Tim was falling in love with a real woman, someone worth fighting for.
I’m sorry I ever doubted you,
baby. But where I come from, people are not as honest as you. I’m just glad I kept my cool. God, Joey… You took this so well. Thank you. Thank you so much. You’re true, darling. You’re the best thing that’s ever come into my crazy life…
21
The next morning, Tim woke up feeling on top the world. Josephine’s innocence had given him a reason to smile and, more importantly, they had not argued at all. On the contrary, the new couple was happy.
They spent the day walking around in Manhattan, having so much fun that he completely forgot about everything else. He no longer worried about discovering the person behind Jitter’s murder and the burglary that he was about to commit. But Jon’s phone call in the early afternoon acted like a call to reality. He wanted to see him; due to his outburst the night before, they had not finished discussing their plan to break into Chester Bradford’s house. According to him, they still had a lot of details to go over.
Midnight found Tim in the same apartment building in Queens, but, this time, his friend’s door was open. He was standing a few feet behind the door frame. As soon as their gazes met, he put his hands together.
“Bra-vo,” he gave four sarcastic slaps. “Let’s have a round of applause for Mr. Shaw, ladies and gentlemen. He almost beat to death a tiny little man last night.”
“Good to see you too, Jonny.” Tim said with a faint smile, stepping into his friend’s apartment. “And I didn’t beat him to death. I just punched him a couple of times.”
“Dude, have you seen the size of your hands?” Jon inquired, his voice dripping with sarcasm as his friend closed the door behind him. “They’re as big as tennis rackets!”
“I had to know about his client.” Tim declared. “Can we stop talking about that? I thought we had a job to do.”
“Yeah, follow me.” Jon urged, turning his body to the left. “By the way, I have some pictures from inside the house.”
“How did you do that?” Tim got curious.
Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection Page 184
