The Poisoned Pen

by E. Joan Sims

  The man glared angrily at me for a moment and turned to leave.

  “I saw Nell Jane the other day,” I blurted out. “She’s grown so much I hardly knew her.”

  Jacob Bradley paused and then turned back with a sly smile.

  “Cousin Paisley,” he grinned. “How very good to see you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jake Bradley wasn’t just a handsome man—he was beautiful—angelic—with soulful brown eyes and full lips that tilted upwards with just the right amount of self-deprecation. Dressed in regulation jeans and blue denim shirt, he was tall and lean, with bones and muscles in all the right places. He could easily have been a movie star playing the role of a prisoner

  He sat down in a chair across from me and placed his manacled wrists on the table.

  “If you say this is a conjugal visit they’ll take these handcuffs off,” he said in a voice full of innuendo.

  My cheeks burned as I lowered my eyes and tried to think of a response that wouldn’t make him mad enough to get up and leave.

  “Don’t worry, cousin,” he laughed softly. “Can’t blame me for trying. You’re a very pretty lady.”

  “What about your wife?” I asked pointedly. “Doesn’t she ever come to see you?”

  He leaned back and balanced his chair easily on two legs while he laughed. “That cow?” he finally managed. “She’s too busy entertaining half the men in Lakeland County to worry about me. Besides, she divorced me three years ago. Had the papers served on my birthday. Pretty thoughtful, huh? Especially since it’s her fault I’m in here in the first place.”

  “Her fault?”

  “Yeah.” The chair legs slammed down on the floor, as his mood grew surly. I realized I had made a mistake. We didn’t have much time and I had gotten the conversation off on the wrong track. I had to get him to talk about Beth somehow.

  “Don’t you have other visitors?”

  “Like that fathead of a shrink they send around once month?”

  “Well, no. I was really thinking of someone else.”

  “She sent you here, didn’t she?” he whispered excitedly as he leaned in closer.

  “She who?” I prompted.

  “You know who! Stop kidding around, lady.” He got up and paced back and forth, never going more than six feet in either direction. “You’ve got some news, I can tell. Don’t hold out on me. I’ve waited too long. She promised she would get back here two weeks ago and I’ve been going nuts!”

  He stopped and stared at me intently. I could see him trying to get a handle on his emotions. Then he smiled—an unbelievably sweet and charming smile.

  “You’ve got to understand what it’s like in here. A guy like me…I don’t belong. You can see that, can’t you? Beth could. That’s why she wants to help me. That’s why she promised to hire one of those fancy criminal lawyers from Atlanta—one of the ‘ponytails’—a smart guy who can get me out of here.”

  He sat back down and leaned in closer to whisper, “We’re going to get married, me and Beth, and go live in France where she can write novels and I can…well, she says I can fulfill my destiny there.”

  “My, that is a grand idea,” I observed, careful to hide my astonishment with this new turn of events. “I never realized you two had planned such an ambitious future together. How are you going to finance this venture? Has Beth sold her book?”

  Jake Bradley sprawled back in the chair and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment while he stared suspiciously at me. “I thought Beth sent you.”

  “Beth Davis is the reason I’m here,” I admitted truthfully.

  “What’s going on, lady?”

  I took a deep breath and begged Leonard not to desert me.

  “Jake, your friend Beth has disappeared. I’m trying to find her.”

  I watched, fascinated, as the blood drained from his face until his pale, finely chiseled features and sensuous lips reminded me of a beautiful marble statue by Donatello I had seen once in a museum in Europe.

  “Why aren’t the police looking for her?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  “They don’t know the things I know.”

  The room was so silent I was afraid he could hear the pounding of my heart. I resisted the urge to wipe the moisture from my upper lip while I waited for him to speak. When he finally did, he surprised me.

  “You got any cash?”

  “Wha…what?”

  “Money, moola, bills. Give me something—a fifty at least.”

  He was so intent—so persuasive—I don’t hesitate for a moment. I reached around for my bag, took out my wallet and handed him two twenties and a ten. He took the money over to the one-way glass and tapped on it.

  “Roy?” he called out. “Roy, I need to go to the can.”

  The door opened and Jake slipped the money to the guard on the other side. He sauntered back to the table with a grin on his face.

  “Beth and I worked that out. For the right price, Roy turns off the microphone and looks the other way. You can trust him. He knows better than to cross me.” The grin disappeared. A muscle twitched in its place. “Everybody knows better than to cross me. You hear that, Cousin?”

  I ignored the threat. Jake Bradley might look like a sexy, smoldering volcano of a man, but I suspected that he was all smoke and mirrors. Nevertheless, it was easy to see why Beth Davis had fallen for him. He must have fit right in with her daydreams—and nighttime fantasies. I’m sure he turned on the charm and upped the wattage of that incandescent smile whenever she walked in the room. Poor little thing, I thought, she didn’t stand a chance against a cheesy predator like him.

  “Okay, lady. Now tell me just what you think you know about Beth.”

  My mind had been going a mile a minute, trying to piece together the bits of information he had dropped. I took a fairly educated guess.

  “Beth was getting the money for your lawyer and your little European excursion from her blackmail scheme.” I stopped. His expression didn’t change one iota, but I was sure I hadn’t told him anything he didn’t already know. I decided give him a little push. “Weren’t you afraid for her? Those were rich and powerful men. They could have….”

  Jake laughed derisively. “What? Canceled her ticket to the country club dance? Given her the wrong stock tip? Give me a break, lady. Those guys were nothing but wealthy losers—fat cats with too much inherited money and not a brain in their heads. Do you think we’re stupid or something? We did some research with our own private Mr. Wizard. We made damn sure of our targets before we lifted a finger.”

  “Where did you get the idea in the first place?”

  He looked at me intently. “Why should I tell you all this?”

  “Because without Beth, your plans are in the trash bin, and since you’re stuck in here, I’m the only one you can count on to find her.”

  “What’s in it for you?”

  “I have my own little agenda,” I admitted. “But that’s none of your business.”

  He glowered menacingly at me, but I had gotten over Jake Bradley. He didn’t scare me anymore. I told him so. He laughed.

  “You want to know about me and Beth. Okay, I’ll tell you. A couple of years ago she got permission from the warden to interview a prisoner. He asked for volunteers. It’s always good to volunteer. You get perks, if you know what I mean?”

  I nodded. I had seen enough cellblock blockbusters. I knew what a pack of cigarettes or an extra hour in the exercise yard meant to a prisoner.

  “Anyway, she liked me right off,” his smile was smug and self-assured. “She asked if she could come back and talk to me again. It went on from there,” he shrugged as though it were a foregone conclusion that every woman, given half a chance, would fall in love with him.

  “After a while she wanted to get married. I told her it wouldn’t work with me in here and her out there. I’d be jealous all the time.” His smile was lazy and mocking. “I told her she had to get me out of here—get me a new lawyer. I was innocent—frame
d for something my ex-wife did.”

  “Were you?” I interrupted.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re very persuasive.”

  He smiled that wonderfully deceptive smile. “I like you, cousin,” he whispered. “I like you a lot.”

  Underneath the designer aftershave that was probably a gift from Beth Davis, Jacob Bradley wore the sour smell of dirty underwear and sweaty sheets. There was a crust of dirt under the nails of his manacled hands and his fingers were stained yellow from cheap tobacco. I shrugged off a feeling of repugnance, and the desire to get up and run like a bunny for home. I still had work to do.

  “I like you, too, Jake,” I murmured shyly, the lie rolling easily off my tongue. “I can see why Beth fell so hard for you. Can’t you think of something, anything, that might help us find her?”

  He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “Uh, oh.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Time to feed the monkey. Give me some more dough.”

  “I don’t think I have much….”

  “Sure you do,” he said. “A fancy lady like you—with expensive clothes and a pricey watch.”

  I had left my bag on the table next to me. I reached for it but Jake grabbed it first. He held it between his knees and went through it roughly with both hands.

  “Jake! Give it back,” I ordered.

  “Or what? You’ll scream for help? If you do, that’s the last you’ll see of me,” he warned.

  “Well, well, look what we have here.” Jake held up my key chain—the one with the small container of pepper spray on the end. “How come they let you in here with this?” he marveled.

  “Roy was….”

  “Roy is a smuck!” laughed Jake. “I’d better turn this over to him or you’ll be in a world of trouble.”

  “Why bother? They’re not going to search me on the way out.”

  “Look, lady,” he said gruffly, “I know what I’m doing.”

  Jake crossed the room and tapped on the door. When it opened, he smiled and whispered something to Roy—then sprayed him full in the face with the pepper spray. Before the guard could scream, Jake grabbed him by the throat and dragged him into the room. I sat glued to my seat with horror as he slammed the man’s head into the wall again and again until he was unconscious. Roy slid to the floor and lay there, not moving even when Jake kicked the mountain of belly in disgust.

  “Fat pig!” he spat. “Fat tub of guts!” Jake reached down and unholstered Roy’s gun and stuck it in the waistband of his own jeans. He searched through the guard’s pockets until he found the key to his handcuffs, sighing with deep satisfaction as he released himself from their constraint.

  He turned back to me and grinned. “Easy as pie! Thanks, Cousin Paisley.”

  “What the hell have you done?” I gasped, when I finally found my voice.

  “Taken control of my future, little lady. I’m going to fulfill my destiny.” His laughter was full of irony.

  “What about Beth? Don’t you care what happens to her?”

  “The world is full of Beth’s—poor, sad, lonely little women dreaming of a guy like me. Pitiful little bitch. She’s crazy for me, you know. Trouble is she’s crazy, period. I deserve better than that.”

  He shook his head sadly. “I was afraid she wasn’t going to be able to pull this off. It was too complicated: too many details. The best plans are clean and simple. I should have waited for somebody with a little more smarts. Somebody like you, Cousin.” He grinned.

  “But, hey! Now’s our chance! It’s just you and me, kid. How are we going to get me out of here?”

  I swallowed back the hot, sour, taste at the back of my throat and fought the nausea that threatened. I had seen worse violence before, but this had been so unexpected. I had vastly underestimated Jacob Bradley. I blamed myself, but not too much. After all, he was in the business of conning people. That’s what he had done all of his life. That was why he was in here in this prison.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jake Bradley hooked a long leg over the chair back and rested an elbow on his knee. He didn’t have to point the gun at me. He and I both knew he could easily kill me before I made it to the door. And screaming for help would be useless—Roy was unconscious, or dead, and the microphone was turned off.

  I was scared, but comforted by the thought that it was two against one: me and Leonard against Jake. Leonard was a master at getting out of tighter spots than this. I was counting on him.

  “I’m waiting, Cousin,” Jake reminded me. “Waiting for you to come up with an escape plan.”

  “I don’t….”

  “Now, now, let’s get rid of that negative attitude. How did you get here?” he prompted. “You got a car outside?”

  Oh, God! I prayed, please don’t let this monster near Cassie.

  “N…no!” I stammered. “A…a friend dropped me off. She, er, he’s not due back for another hour or two.”

  Jake came around to my side of the table and leaned back against the edge. He caressed my cheek with his rough, dirty fingers. When I flinched, he shook his head in warning. “Be still, pretty lady. It’s been a long time. I want to enjoy myself.”

  “Jake, you don’t really want to do this,” I pleaded.

  He slapped me lightly with his open palm and ran his fingers around my face and over my lips.

  “So soft,” he sighed regretfully. “Too bad we’ll have to put off our fun until later, Cousin, dear. Sooner or later, somebody’s bound to come check on poor old Roy when he doesn’t answer the intercom.”

  Jake jumped up and pounded the table with excitement. “That’s it!” He shouted. “The intercom!”

  He grabbed me by the arm and propelled me out of the chair and across the room. When I stumbled over Roy’s foot Jake kicked it angrily out of the way and pulled me into the hallway and into an observation booth. Jake pushed me inside and followed, locking the door behind us.

  “Well, what do you know,” he laughed, looking out of the one-way glass into the room we had just vacated. “How nice to be the shoe on the other foot.”

  I sat down in the corner and watched as he examined our surroundings. A small television monitor above the desk was aimed at the other door in the hallway. A control panel underneath offered four other views. Jake switched back and forth between them, grinning all the while.

  “Damn, this is even better than I imagined,” he laughed. “What did I say, Cousin, about the best laid plans—pure and simple. We can sit here snug as bugs in a rug and wait until they meet our demands.”

  “And just what are they, Jake? What do you think you’re going to get out of this?”

  “That’s just it, Cousin! I’m going to get out! And you are going to help me.”

  Jake outlined his escape plan, improvising here and there as I pointed out the obvious flaws. I knew that helping him might be construed as aiding and abetting a criminal, but what the hell! I was trying to save my own hide. If I were going to be his hostage—the human shield he used to make his escape—I wanted the plan to work. I only hoped that once we were safely outside I could make my own getaway.

  “You get on the intercom. See this button here,” he pointed. “Tell the guard at the main desk who you are. Tell him that I’ve taken you and Roy hostage. Make sure he knows I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it on you.”

  “Thanks a bunch, Jake. That just made my day.”

  “Don’t worry, Cousin. You’re my ticket out of here. And besides, nothing’s going to happen to either one of us.” He pointed again at the intercom button. “Now get on the horn.”

  The guard at the main desk answered immediately. He listened intently as I told him what had happened and read the list of Jake’s demands.

  “The money has to be in unmarked bills,” I added, “nothing bigger than twenties. Put the suitcase with the clothes and the money in the trunk of the car. Leave the trunk open
until we get there so he can see that everything is okay. No one is to come near the car at any time. If these instructions are not followed to the letter, he will kill me.”

  “Are you okay now, Miss?”

  “I’m fine,” I assured him. “Everyone will be fine as long as you do as he says.”

  “I’ll have to talk to some people—the governor, for one—to arrange all this. You understand it might be awhile before I get back to you?”

  Jake grabbed the intercom out of my hands and shouted into it. “You got two hours, O’Neil. You understand that?” And he slammed down the receiver. “I think that went very well, don’t you, Cousin?”

  I fell asleep. People were astounded later, when I told the story. No one would believe that I could relax under those conditions. They thought I was bragging. But they didn’t understand. It wasn’t courage. It was stress, and my body’s way of preparing for what was to come.

  I dreamt of Meadowdale Farm, as I often did when I was forced to be away from home. The dream was very real. I could hear Cassie’s Gypsy Kings CD playing softly on the back porch, and see the dragonflies dance over the patio as the tiles gave up their heat to the deepening twilight. There was a muted conversation in the background—a murmur of endearments and contented laughter. It was so beautiful I wept.

  I woke up abruptly. Jake was shouting.

  “I said, no, dammit!” He slammed his fists on the desk to make his point. “Fifty thousand dollars—no more, no less. And I don’t give a shit how late it is. Tell that fat-assed banker this little lady’s blood will be on his hands if he doesn’t come through with the money. And, O’Neil,” he added in a dangerously quiet voice, “you’ve got forty minutes.”

  Jake was furious. While I had slept, the charming con man had disappeared and something evil had taken his place. I could smell his fear—a fear that could make him even more dangerous. I grimly lowered my odds of getting out of this alive.

  Jake paced up and down the narrow room, kicking my chair viciously each time until I wised up and moved even further back in the corner. Once he stopped in front of the door and slammed his fists against it, screaming obscenities until he was hoarse.