by Jillian Kidd
The sun’s fiery rays burst over the horizon, molten and filled with bright color.
I dialed Leigh’s number. She was probably still as awake as I was. If she wasn’t, I’d leave a message. On the third ring, she picked up, and her face filled my monitor.
“Mina,” she said with a tired but relieved smile.
“Just checking up on you,” I said.
“Don’t tell me you’re still awake.”
I couldn’t resist a yawn. “Oh, I usually don’t sleep well after one of my nights. Are you okay?”
She nodded, tears filling her eyes. She fought them and swallowed, looking down, still smiling.
“Do you need me to come over?” I asked quietly.
“No,” she said, meeting my eyes again over the transmission. “We’re—we’re fine. Sammy’s asleep. It’s just so—so nice knowing that he’s not out there and that he can’t hurt her again.”
“I know.”
“I really do appreciate all that you’ve done, more than you’ll ever know.”
“We’ll have to stay in touch. You’ll have to give me updates on you and Sammy. Let me know how she does in school this year.”
“I will,” she said.
“You know,” I began, “Mrs. Newton may seem like she’s anti-children, but she’s not. I think if you and Sammy could visit her every once in a while, she has a lot of love to give.”
Leigh laughed. It was a tired but relaxed sound. “I don’t know if Sammy will go for that. Mrs. Newton has griped at her for riding her tricycle too close to her flowers before.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt she puts on a front, but she’s a good lady. Trustworthy. I think you might benefit from getting to know her more.”
“Well, I do owe her for her help last night. I may send Sammy over with a pot of flowers.”
“Good,” I said. “She’d like that.”
“Okay.”
“All right,” I said, “I’m going to let you go and get a little sleep. You look like you need it.”
“You get in bed, too, if you can. You deserve to rest.”
“I will. Take care.”
“You, too,” she said. “Bye-bye.”
“Bye, Leigh.”
I ended the transmission.
One more mission closed.
But in the world of bounty hunting, there never was an end to my job. There were always criminals. Always darkness to balance out the light.
It was early, and Colt and his roommates were probably still fast asleep, but I needed to pick up Rogue and get some shut-eye.
And later today I needed to devote some serious time to figuring out who my biggest Fish to date would be.
Number 25. Would it be a man? Woman? Old? Young? Murderer? Burglar? Rapist?
Whoever it ended up being, it was going to be the one that would open the great door I’d been waiting for all my life.
The door from the great lake of America to the ocean of the rest of Earth.
8
It took me a minute to figure out that the shrieking, nearly naked man running toward me was A.J. I’m not sure if it was the Mohawk or the tribal tattoos that stretched down his chest and hips and legs like some thin battle armor that had fused to his skin.
“He’s gone!” he shrieked, grabbing my hand for an instant to look at me with pitiful puppy-like eyes.
I chanced a glance down and saw that he was at least wearing a pair of white underwear. Then, without any explanation whatsoever, he rushed back into the house.
I had barely gotten out of my Honda and entered the chain-link fence of the front yard before he’d come dashing towards me. Now, he left me stopped in my tracks halfway to his home, standing in the yard too dumbfounded to move. Whatever was going on, I was too tired for it.
And as if things couldn’t get worse, a young female voice said, “Did you see that, Dad?”
A middle-aged man and his pre-teen daughter stood on the sidewalk with their mouths agape. The man recovered his composure and quickly covered the girl’s eyes with both hands.
“I’ll get you for indecent exposure if you come out of that house again, you cretin!” the dad shouted.
“Don’t worry,” I said, turning to him. “I won’t let him.”
“Just who is that young man?”
“He’s—well, he’s a friend of my brother’s. Sorry. I’ll get everything under control.”
“Well, you’d better!”
I winced. If there was one thing I didn’t like, it was being bossed around. And even more, I absolutely hated to be ordered to do something by a complete stranger who had an I-own-the-universe air about him. With my nerves frayed from no sleep, I sneered.
“Maybe I’ll do it because I don’t want to see him running around naked. Maybe it has nothing to do with what you want. Did you stop to think of that?”
The man puffed up, his face turning red, and his daughter snickered.
“What sort of neighborhood is this?”
I shook my head, which was starting to pound with a headache. “It’s a regular neighborhood, and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to walk here.”
“We just moved here!” he said. “Two blocks down!”
“And I’m glad,” the girl muttered, her teeth sparkling with the metallic jewelry of braces. “I like this a lot better than a stupid country club.”
His voice turned into a sharp whisper. “Do you have to announce that to everyone? How many times do I have to tell you it’s not my fault that I lost my job! If Emmons had just lied about the numbers like he was supposed to in the board meeting,”—the girl’s eyes fogged over, as if she’d heard this spiel before—“we would’ve had enough time to fix the problem, and I wouldn’t have—”
“Excuse me,” I said. “You might want to take this conversation somewhere else. I work quite closely with the law.” The man’s face paled. “Just saying. Beautiful day. Enjoy your walk.”
“Well,” said the man, finding his courage once again. “I still think we should get an apology from—”
“Sorry,” A.J. said. He stuck only his head through the cracked doorway. “Really sorry.” He grinned at the pre-teen. “Hi.”
Then he disappeared into the house again. The sound of wooden floors creaking under the pressure of frantic running added to the sounds of birds’ cheerily chirping.
“Come on, Maggie,” the man said, “before you see your father get violent with that punk.”
He took her hand and strode away. She, however, looked over her shoulder in a kind of googley-eyed trance. Aww, a crush. That poor man was going to have a fun time with her once she got into high school. And by fun, I mean a nervous breakdown. I was willing to bet money on it.
The two figures shrank as they walked farther and farther down the sunny sidewalk until they turned onto a different street. Angered and somewhat embarrassed to be associated with this house at this particular moment in time, I headed across the lawn.
“A.J.!” I shouted. “Who’s gone?” Then a thought dawned on me. “It’d better not be Rogue!”
A pang of panic jolted my heart. My dog had run away once, and it had taken me hours to chase after him. Weenie dogs have stubby little legs, but those suckers can run like nobody’s business. And they always think that chasing them is a game, which in turn makes them go from an already fast pace to sprinting like the lightning. It was a miracle he hadn’t gotten run over, because we had run through traffic that day and had angered many a motorist.
“It’s not Rogue,” said a serene figure, sitting on an antique rocking chair on the porch. “It’s his hamster thing.”
“The synthetic gerbil?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
That was Bryan. He was the calmest, most sensible looking of the three amigos. His hair was a nice shade of brown, parted to the side. He wore a gray T-shirt, brown corduroys and small, round-rimmed glasses that complimented his face. His brown eyes scanned the yard as he took a sip of black coffee.
“Don�
�t know where it went,” he said. “A.J.’s only been up for five minutes. He’ll probably find it.”
I stepped onto the porch, daydreaming about a hot bath, soft blankets, and pillows.
“How are you, Bryan?” I asked. “Found any leads for a steady job?”
He was a recent graduate seeking an occupation as a linguist. He wasn’t really keen on joining the military, and he wanted to stay local. At present, he hadn’t found his perfect match, but did commissioned jobs here and there.
“M’okay,” he said. “No steady job yet. You look tired.”
“Oh, I am. I think I’m going to go in and get Rogue and head home. It’s been a long night. Pulled an all-nighter.”
“Job?”
“Yeah. But it was a successful night. I caught number 24. One to go.”
He let out a low, impressed whistle. “Nice.”
“Thanks.” I smiled.
“Make yourself at home.”
“I will.”
I walked in the house and my brother looked up from searching in between the living room couch cushions. He didn’t do early mornings. One of his eyes was still closed, the other only halfway open.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hey,” he said, the closed eye opening in a squint. “How’d it go?”
“I got him,” I said.
“A.J. lost his—lost his—” Colt yawned. “His thing. The what’s-it.”
“The gerbil, I know. I’d stay and help you try to find it, but I have got to get some sleep.”
“’Kay.” Another yawn. “I think Rogue’s upstairs.”
A.J. streaked across the living room with a flashlight and bolted into the kitchen. Shaking my head, I made my way upstairs and called for my dog. When he didn’t answer, I opened all the doors to all the bedrooms and whistled. The spare bedroom’s door at the end of the hallway was slightly ajar, and I pressed it open.
“Oh, crap,” I said.
I had found Rogue.
And the gerbil.
It was a dachshund’s instinct to go after furry little animals. There had been times when Rogue sensed a squirrel outside of the window, and he’d nearly flown through the glass in pursuit.
Tufts of the synthetic gerbil’s fur lay on the ground, patches of the faux animal’s body showing metal and some wires. It was a miracle that Rogue hadn’t gotten electrically shocked, and maybe he had, but that hadn’t stopped him. He held the robotic rodent in between his front paws and licked the head.
“Give me that,” I said in a tone he’d grown to recognize was serious business.
I reached down, and he let me have it.
“A.J.,” I called down the stairs. “I found it.”
He came bounding up to meet me, and immediately his face fell into an expression of pure despair.
“What happened?” he cried, taking his creation and cradling it in his hands.
“I’m really sorry. Rogue had it. I just got paid from last night’s catch, and I’ll wire you the money to rebuild another one.”
He stood there for a painfully long time before saying, “No, that’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” Great, now I was feeling tired and guilty. There was no telling what I’d end up promising. “Because I can go out and buy you some new materials and—”
“No, no, no.” He shook his head, not meeting my eyes. “It had a glitch in it anyway. I mean, I have the blueprint. I can make another one.” Then looking at me, he added, “You could go on a date with me, and that might make me feel a little better.”
There was a limit to what I would offer him; I don’t care how tired I was.
“A.J.,” I said with a sigh and a smile. “Please put some clothes on.”
“Date?” he asked.
“How’s that going to help your gerbil?”
“I don’t know. It might help my feelings.”
“Hah. I doubt that. Give me a call if you’d like me to pay you back for the loss, okay? I have got to get in bed.”
“We could do that, too.”
“A.J.” I patted his cheek. “You are a mess.”
The simple contact of my hand seemed to brighten his spirits, and he said, “So?”
Rogue nudged my leg with his nose, and I bent down and scooped him up. A.J. fetched his leash, and I clipped it to his collar.
“You know, Mina—”
“A.J.?”
“What?”
“Clothes, please?”
“Oh!” He grinned. “Just going to the shower now!”
He slipped into the upstairs bathroom, softly clutching the ruined gerbil in his right hand. Carrying my naughty pet, I focused on taking each step down so I wouldn’t fall asleep descending the stairs. Colt stood at the bottom, leaning on the wall. He was so out of it that the wall seemed the sole force keeping him from falling down. My brother’s body didn’t remember how to balance itself until at least 10 a.m. I was convinced it ran on solar power.
“Didja find it?” Colt asked.
At least both eyes were open now, albeit droopily.
“Rogue tried to eat it,” I said.
“Really?”
“I feel really bad about it. Tell A.J. to please let me know if he needs any money to replace it.”
“I will.” He nodded, scratching his side in that sleepy way men do. “See ya later, Sis.”
“Bye.”
I said my farewell to Bryan, who gave me a little salute. Then I headed home.
Rogue propped up to look out the window, his long body stretched, his coat shiny. People around us had begun to start their day, the night which had been so void of life giving way to the busy buzzing people of the day. I glanced at Rogue.
“You are not a good boy,” I said.
He wagged his tail, his tongue hanging out, and when he saw a squirrel racing up the limb of a nearby tree, I nearly had a wreck trying to peel him off the car window.
* * *
The room was a blur of lights and pulsing jungle beats. I danced with Roberto, his hands caressing my body. But I wanted it. I wanted him. I wore no clothes, freeing his access to all parts of my flesh.
He traced my curves with his snakelike tongue that sent erotic chills down my body. But I knew with each wet trail, there was a part of him that remained monstrous. A part that I should not ever underestimate. My pulse raced, fearing the sinister monster within.
The other dancers of the club did not seem to mind or notice my nakedness. They writhed and whirled until they faded into the air like wavy mirages, and the room transformed into an empty cell with green tile walls.
I couldn’t move my body. My wrists and feet were bound by invisible shackles.
The light was dim and eerie, and I could barely make out the shape of Roberto as he crawled on top of me. His hands had stretched into black claws that pierced the sides of the dirty mattress I lay on. His eyes flashed red, his teeth glinting with sharp points.
Pleasure gave way to pain, searing pain all over my skin as his touch burned my flesh, and I tried to scream but couldn’t find the air to breathe.
The more I tried, the more I heard a faint chiming in the back of my skull.
Chiming, and chiming, and chiming…
I woke from the nightmare, my chest heaving, my brow soaked with sweat.
The sheets were wrapped around my legs, cutting off my circulation. I kicked them off of me and put my hand over my heart, the pounding so fierce I felt I might faint.
But as the relief of reality settled in and I realized where I was, it dawned on me that the chiming I’d heard in the dream was actually my telephone ringing in the living room.
It continued to chime, and still trembling, I stumbled out of bed to answer it.
9
“Mina, hiiiiiiii,” Mom’s voice sang at operatic levels after I planted roughly on the couch and answered the TV phone.
Her dolled-up image filled the screen. The oval brim of her bright pink hat stretched at least a couple feet in diameter. Her square, g
old squishifoil dress hid most of her thin, tanned figure in its box shape, excepting the sharp V neck that dipped down to her navel, showing off the cleavage of her recently updated boob job.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, fighting sleep, attempting as genuine a smile as possible.
“Why, you look haggard!” she cried, placing a well-manicured hand over her heart. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” She rocked back laughing. “Just kidding, darling. But oh, heavens, wouldn’t that be the day? Seriously, though, is anyone cute and naked hiding in the bedroom?”
“Nope, Mom!” I gave a cheesy grin, trying but failing to find some humor in her insinuations. “Just me!”
An elaborate, yet man-made waterfall poured behind her. She appeared to be sitting on its rim. A little farther behind her was part of an escalator. Music, maybe Frank Sinatra, echoed against gold-plated high ceilings. She was cooling her heels in a fancy hotel. But just to be sure, I asked:
“Where are you, Mom?”
“Oh, I’m over at the Hilton,” she said, picking up a dry martini. “Really, love, you look awful. Were you asleep?”
Observant woman, wasn’t she?
“Yes,” I said, “it was a pretty long night.”
“Apparently! Why, it’s already mid-afternoon!”
For a moment, my heart skipped. Had I slept the entire day away? My eyes darted to the bottom right corner of the screen. It was 3:27 p.m. Still enough time to get some chores done and make it to dinner with Jackson. Good. Maybe I wouldn’t even be late this time. I laughed maniacally inside, thrilled that I had managed to keep Jackson a secret from Mom the entire time I’d known him. I had threatened Colt’s life if he told her. All I needed was Mom flaunting to her snooty friends the fact that I knew someone famous. Knowing her, she’d find some way to weasel into it and steal the spotlight. And Jackson didn’t deserve that. He was my friend. Oh, yes, it was delightful that it was my secret to keep.
