by Michael Todd
Lalalalala… I’m going back to the conversation, and don’t you fucking dare!
Hahahahahaha! Now I know what you fear, Katie Maddison!
“Yeah, boss, we aren’t trying to kill folks.” Calvin echoed, fucking with Korbin.
“The reporter has lasted this long on the fringes. I’d hate for us to be the ones who got her burned by the fire.” Korbin shrugged. “The girl is just trying to make a living in her profession.”
“And what profession would that be?” Calvin replied.
“Journalism,” Korbin gruffed, standing up from the table. “Human being. That’s all you need to know. She’s a human being, and deserves to be protected.”
“We got it, sir.” Katie laughed. “Just giving you a hard time.”
Korbin’s eyes narrowed, but there was a glint of amusement in them. “Your cover: you are a very rich couple who have come to town for business.”
“Oh, Lord.” Katie looked at Calvin. “Don’t think for two seconds that you are getting any.”
“What?” Calvin asked, surprised. “I was thinking about what not to tell this journalist, not what sex I won’t be getting as a fake husband—not that as a husband I would be thinking of getting any sex.”
“Mmmhmm,” Katie said, standing up. “All right, husband, let’s get this show on the road.”
“Okay, I know this is for show and all, but there is no need to throw around the H-word.” Calvin’s voice was a bit on the pleading side. “You could really end up jinxing me.”
“Come on.” Katie sighed and walked out of the room.
“Those two will drive me to drink,” Korbin murmured. They continued to argue as they went down the hall, then down to the garage. He looked at what was on his desk that had to be finished.
“I think something else is in order. Anything else.” Korbin stood up and left the office to walk over to the other building.
Perhaps he would take a look around and go over the books. As he walked up he saw a tall, beautiful woman who was about his age standing out front and looking at him.
“Hello,” Korbin said.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Korbin,” she replied with a roll of the “r.” “We haven’t formally met.” She held out a hand, which he took and shook. “I am Mamacita. I own the house that Joshua is staying in.”
“Oh, right.” He smiled. “How is he doing?”
“Good! I just came to help him out a bit, thank him for his generosity at our home.” She smiled. “Running a business can be difficult; stressful, even. It’s all about pacing yourself and thinking through decisions.” She turned around to look at the building. “At least, that’s what I keep telling him.”
“Well, I appreciate that.” He nodded slightly. “It’s very good advice. I’m going to head into the office for a bit. Don’t mind me.”
Korbin smiled and walked away, realizing that Mamacita had a fairly good head on her shoulders.
When he made it into the office, he stuck that thought in the back of his mind and started digging through the purchases. About halfway through, he called Joshua over to join him in the office so he could ask for specifics about the different costs he found in the books for the metals.
“They are what I negotiate,” Joshua said.
Korbin ran a hand through his hair. “I get that, but for someone who isn’t used to business, it can be overwhelming. Anyone could miss something,” Korbin said with a smile. “Mamacita?” he called.
“Yes?” she yelled back.
“Would you come in here for a moment?”
“Sure,” she said, rounding the corner. “What can I do for you?”
“Here is the information for two different metal companies,” Korbin said, jotting down some numbers. “I want you to call them and order the metals in the amounts we need on this page.”
“Okay,” she said, eyeing Korbin.
Mamacita took the phone Korbin offered and dialed the first number, and as soon as she got the sales rep on the phone she started to negotiate the price.
Joshua watched her in awe, almost shocked to see anyone speak with her intensity.
She had a way with words; it was like she was made for a job like that. By the time she was done, she had managed to secure the materials for a quarter of the price Joshua had been paying.
“Holy shit,” he said, shaking his head. “That was crazy, like you saved so much money right then.” He paused, his voice dropping a bit. “I don’t know if I could ever do something like that. Those people know how to push my buttons,” he admitted.
“Because you let them, mijo.” Mamacita smiled.
“Good job,” Korbin replied, clapping his hands to get Joshua’s attention. When he had it, he pointed to Mamacita. “And that is how you do business.”
Korbin closed the book and tossed the cabinet’s keys to Mamacita. He glanced at Joshua, who was still completely shocked by what had just happened. Korbin couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he walked around the desk and put his hand on Mamacita’s shoulder.
“You’re hired,” he told her, looking straight ahead.
“What?” she squawked as he smiled and walked out the door.
“Hired?” She looked at Joshua, who was pondering the whole episode. “Like I wanted a job? Who does he think he is, just waltzing in here and pointing fingers at people? Bossing them around?”
She huffed and puffed, standing there with her hands on her hips as Korbin walked across the manufacturing floor.
“I am a strong and independent woman!” she yelled. “I do what I want, when I want to do it. I do not take orders from any man!”
Korbin opened the front door and walked out, not even looking back at her. She watched as the door shut behind him, blocking the sunlight.
She stood there for a moment longer, and a smile began to move over her lips. She had always made her own choices in her life, but there was something about this job that she couldn’t resist—or maybe it was the man behind it.
“So,” she said quietly to herself. “Mr. Big, Tall, and Hunky thinks he can just come in here, hire me, and walk out.” She bit her lower lip. “Well, I think I will just go right ahead and get a bit of my own back.”
She straightened her arms and spun around to stare at Joshua, who was starting to recover from his amazement. She chuckled, loving how innocent that kid was, and how he was going to get the attention he needed.
She adjusted her expression and put on a hard face.
“Come here,” she snapped. “Pull up a chair next to mine. We are going to go through every single one of your purchases since this company started, and don’t leave anything out. If you want the company to succeed, you have to learn from your mistakes and your successes. That is how great people become greater, Joshua—they observe, and they figure out from the best how to make the system even better. Eventually you will be able to make these choices with your eyes closed. You won’t need Mamacita here looking over your shoulder every step of the way.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Joshua said meekly, hurrying across the room to grab a chair and pushing it back in front of him. “I’m ready to learn.”
“I’ll give him ‘you’re hired.’”
“You wouldn’t be so upset if you had just slept with that guy from the cabana,” Elizabeth commented to her friend. “Now you are upset because the vacation is over, and we are stuck at the San Diego airport waiting for our flight back home.”
“It’s not about him,” Sarah told her, “and there are a lot worse places we could be stuck than at an airport. Take this opportunity, for example.” She pointed out the window.
“What?” Elizabeth asked, walking up to the glass and watching a sleek black jet roll down the runway and pull to the side for unloading.
“Where else would you see a private jet stop all the traffic?” She laughed. “And they are unloading right there. We get to see someone famous.”
The girls stood in the window staring at the Killers’ private jet. As the door opened the
y moved closer, basically pressing their faces against the glass.
The stairs lowered to the ground and a female emerged, dressed in a calf-length tight black dress, suit jacket, and black heels. Her hair was pulled back tightly, and her large-lensed sunglasses hid most of her face.
Directly behind her was a very handsome, very sharply-dressed black man. His hair was freshly cut, his suit was pressed perfectly, and his glasses hid his eyes as well.
As they got off the plane they looked around for a moment, then got directly into a blacked-out SUV. The guy was the driver, and the woman climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door. As soon as they drove off, the girls turned to one another.
“See?” Sarah told her. “Only in California. It’s not all bad.”
“That is kinda cool,” Elizabeth agreed, then her eyes narrowed and she asked, “Which of the Kardashians was that?”
Chapter Six
“Okay,” Katie demanded, taking her glasses off. “Where are we going first?”
“First we are going to this tavern in South Park, or near it, called Hamilton’s,” Calvin told her as he took a right turn.
“Why?” Katie asked.
“Because…beer.” He chuckled. “And food.”
“I guess that’s a good enough reason.” She shrugged.
They drove up the highway, and after exiting took several different streets. Katie had to admit she was very glad she wasn’t the one driving, since California drivers terrified the shit out of her. She was used to Las Vegas driving, which was mostly slow and steady due to the freakishly wide multi-lane roads all over the place. Las Vegas had a bunch of cheap land and they weren’t afraid to use it.
When they finally got to the bar, she was relieved to be done with roads for a little while.
The two of them went inside and looked around. The bar was a hole in the wall, but it was charming in some ways. Over the bar there were hundreds of beer tap handles.
On the wall above the active taps was a giant chalkboard, with the names of the available beers hand-printed in different colored chalks across it. The selection was unbelievable. There were beers from all over the world on their draft list, and if you wanted a bottle, there were a ton of them as well, all stacked neatly in the fridge against the wall.
Katie took a seat at the bar and pulled a menu from the stack. She was starving, since they’d left Las Vegas in such a hurry. It was good to feel hungry again—this was the first time since she’d allowed Pandora to talk her into gorging herself at the Italian restaurant.
There had come a point where she couldn’t speed up the digestion and elimination process any further, so she’d just had to wait it out. That kind of food orgy could not and would not happen again.
Quite so soon.
So instead of a repeat, she decided that having a salad would be the best course of action.
“This place is nuts.” Calvin grinned, looking around.
Katie narrowed her eyes. “I thought you had been here before?”
“Nah. I read about it on the plane, so I figured we would give it a try,” he told her. “I didn’t want to rush right into a crowded restaurant in downtown San Diego. All the reviews said that despite being a hole in the wall, the place was really good. It’s not often I get such a choice selection of brews.” He snickered. “The guys back at the base are going to be so jealous of this.”
“Yes, they will be…and Korbin will be pissed,” she joked.
Calvin agreed. “You’re right. Better not show them until we get back.”
“It’s better to ask permission than forgiveness?” Katie said, tilting her head.
“That, but backward,” Calvin replied.
Katie thought about it a second, “Well, damn. I did say it wrong.”
“Besides, if I’m going to get demon guts all over me, I need to be properly lubricated beforehand.”
“Hey, you two.” The bartender lightly wiped the bar down as he walked over to them. “What can I get for you?”
“I will have the…” Calvin looked up at the sign. “I’ll have the Beachwood Red Ale.”
The bartender smiled at Katie. “And you?”
“Do you have hot tea?” she asked.
“We normally do, but we are all out,” he explained. “We do have the Lipton raspberry.”
Katie nodded, not sure she could refuse at that point. He walked back with Calvin’s beer and Katie’s prepackaged iced tea.
She was more than a little pissed at the fact that she was going to have to drink it.
Kill horrible demons, check.
Fight for her right to have a brewed cup of tea? Uncheck.
What the hell was up with her unwillingness to push back on the small things? She should have just told him to bring her a beer.
The two of them ordered some food, and found a small table in the back corner to sit down at. Katie almost felt claustrophobic even with the bar mostly empty, and couldn’t imagine what it would be like if it were packed like the bars got in Vegas.
Everyone would be a big pile of sweat and drunkenness, baking in the San Diego sunshine. It would be absolutely miserable.
“So, do you think this reporter will have real information about what is going on?” Calvin asked.
“I don’t know.” Katie shrugged. “I’m inclined to say no, but honestly, there is a chance that she does. I mean, she shows up at most of the killings and I have no idea how she tracks us or finds us. There is a really good chance that if she does that to us, she has a handle on who the other guys are too.”
“Maybe.” Calvin sounded unconvinced.
“Of course, she could have absolutely nothing except news on the next talking banana,” Katie continued. “In that case, we will just be fueling her fire. If she doesn’t know anything and we yanked her off the street, she’s gonna know something big is going on.”
“I know.” Calvin sighed. “But we have to do it, since Korbin wants it to be done. And we have to make sure we protect her like we promised to. Until then, though,” he lifted his bottle, “I am going to drink this beer…and probably get another.”
The middle of the night was a normal time for people in San Ysidro neighborhoods to be lurking in the streets, especially in that neighborhood.
The drug house had been quiet for hours and no one had come to check on it, neither for the fire in the living room nor the screaming and crying when the demon had made the people dropped into his circle his first meal.
The guy walking toward the house now was nothing more than a junkie looking for his next fix from his normal drug dealer, with whom he shopped every time he had enough cash.
He scratched the side of his face and yawned as he walked up the steps to the front door. He was used to seeing some serious muscle out there at that time of night, but figured they were having a party inside or something.
He knocked on the door and stood there rubbing his hands together, looking around in paranoia. After a couple of minutes he knocked again, surprised that no one had answered the door. Alejandro had always been open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
The druggie shrugged his shoulders and opened the unlocked door slowly and walked inside.
“Hey, Alejandro,” he called, his burnt-out coke nose twitching. “I’m here for… whoa!”
He tripped over something and landed on the floor on all fours, cursing. He stared at the red puddle underneath him and slowly he lifted his hands in disgust, watching the blood drip down them.
Then he focused on the room, where there were the pieces of bodies strewn all over the floor. He swallowed hard. He wanted to scream, but nothing would come out.
After scrambling to his feet he looked at the rug to the side, which had a large burn mark in the center.
There were bodies fucking everywhere, and the stench of blood permeated the place. He had been half out of his mind to begin with, but this sent him over the edge.
He scrambled to the door and ran as fast as he could toward
the front yard.
He stumbled down the steps—fell off them, really—and rolled across the lawn, his breathing so heavy he damn near passed out. If there was a way to sober someone up?
He had walked right into it.
Three blocks down the street two cops were parked on the edge of the neighborhood, taking it easy while watching the streets like they normally did at that hour.
They were used to seeing crazy shit going on with the junkies and the homeless in the area, so at first they didn’t even notice the guy, who was covered in blood, trying to run a straight line down the street toward them.
“So yeah, the sergeant was right there with the girl,” Stone told his partner Holden. “He gave zero shits that everyone was staring at him and the woman, and one half his age, too. I bet he thought he could get away with it. Well, then his wife shows up and just about kills him right there in the middle of the bar.”
“No fucking way,” Holden complained, shaking his head. “I always miss the good shit.”
Stone cracked up at that. “How is daddy life treating you now?”
“It’s good, most days.” Holden chuckled. “It’s tough when I get off the night shift because the baby’s up and the wife’s up. They try not to bother me, but we live in a shoebox-sized house and we are unable to really do anything quietly with the baby.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been saving up for a new house, right?” Stone asked.
Holden nodded and frowned. “Yeah, but it all depends on whether I make rank this time around,” he told Stone. “I need to make more money to be approved for the house we want. That, or we are going to have to move away from this town or even state. It’s so fucking expensive here; we can’t do anything.”
“I feel you, dude,” Stone commiserated. “My girlfriend wants the whole nine: the house, the dog, the kids, and the picket fence. It’s not her making me question getting all of that, it’s the fucking price of living here in Cali.”
“We could go be cops in Mayberry,” Holden suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
That cracked Stone up completely. “Yeah, right. I would go nuts.” He shook his head, “No fucking way.”
