Watercolor Hearts

by Sutton Shields

“You mentioned all of ‘this’ being about Maggie, a detail we never stated as fact. Yet you certainly were overly eager to use her past as a deflection from the real culprit—you, Pike. Maggie became a convenient scapegoat to better hide your tracks. But you gave yourself away, my friend, when you simply couldn’t understand why someone would want to trap the Manx…unless it was to—what was it you said?—knock me off that golden pedestal?”

  Smiling, Pike said, “That’s what triggered your gut? Like I said before, paranoia’s got the mind, bud.”

  “Ironically, Proller quit the special ops department he was in right around the same time Maggie became part of our group.” Blake finished his shark-like circling and rejoined me. “Think that’s still paranoia, Pike? Give up the act. Own the truth—be a man, unless Greg’s been right all along about you and your lack of…well…so much.”

  For a moment, Pike just stood there, expressionless…until a twisted smile contorted his face in a way I’d never seen on him. He no longer resembled the lighthearted Pike I thought I knew. “Looks like the rocking chair caught the cat after all.”

  “Perhaps it did.”

  “Oh, it did. And I’m that rocking chair, pal.” Pike held up a small device and pressed a button. “Any second, the guards will be flying in here and find the mighty Manx with a fake. I may not have foreseen the little show you put on out there, Blake. And I didn’t know about the after school special on you, Maggie. But the ending is what matters and tonight will end with Blake being caught in the act of stealing the diamond. Of course, it will be all the more bittersweet when authorities realize it wasn’t the real diamond. The real diamond was taken care of earlier today when the switch was made by my people. Guess I finally beat you at a game of chess, huh, buddy?”

  “Mmm, yeah, maybe. You know, you never can predict how these things turn out. However, you’re wrong about the guards. Only way they’re coming in here is on my summons.”

  I whipped my head around to face Blake. “The guards are yours?”

  “Well, the Manx hired them, yeah,” said Blake, smirking. “But not all is lost, Pike. You are right about the real diamond being taken care of earlier today…only it was my team that handled that as well.”

  Pike swallowed hard and cracked his neck.

  “Yeah, see, Ivy and I cooked up a side plan—one where the diamond never reached its destination.”

  Pike looked legitimately frightened now.

  “Low and behold, when she and some hired hands of mine arrived on-scene, they happened upon your man set to make the switch—I’m afraid you won’t be hearing from him anytime soon. Ironically, we had a fake ready to go as well…because tonight became a trap for you. Our fake is, naturally, far superior to yours.” Blake clicked his tongue three times. “Using my tricks against me? That’s sloppy, sloppy technique, Pike, especially when we all know I do it best.”

  Nervously, Pike said, “You’re good, Blake, but you don’t know what you’re up against.”

  “Why don’t you tell me…”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I did.”

  “Why do this, though?” I asked. “Why betray Blake and your friends?”

  “Ah, well, first, Greg isn’t a friend. And Ivy…Ivy broke my damn heart. Ty, I just don’t give a damn about. Maggie…your role in this is a mystery to me, but it’s gotta be a big one. Blake—the golden boy of New York, the mighty myth of the art world; hero and sympathetic villain—winner at every damn thing he does. I was so sick of it.”

  I gulped. “So, what? You did all this out of some kind of petty jealousy? What is this, high school?” I snapped.

  Pike made a lunging motion in my direction, but Blake threw his arm in front of me, and Pike wisely took a step back.

  “This has little to do with jealousy,” said Blake. “Maybe Ivy broke his heart. And maybe he really doesn’t like Greg, but those are weak excuses. The root of this is money, like everything else in this godforsaken world.”

  “Money and power,” Pike clarified.

  “Someone offered you more money and you run? What happened to loyalty?” I was pissed.

  “Not just someone, Maggie. If money meant that much to me, I’d be trying to take over as the Manx. See, in this line of work, sweetheart, you gotta go where the power is, the strong arm. When you came into the picture, the strength of Blake’s arm weakened. There’s a sleeping giant out there, and it’s very, very hungry,” said Pike, looking at the ceiling as the faint, yet unmistakable sound of a helicopter could be heard. Suddenly, Pike whipped out a gun and aimed it at us. “That must be my ride. Now, just let me go, okay? You guys have nothing to lose, no one’s gonna catch ya, and Blake’s not going to the clink after all. One day, there will be a showdown, and I’ll be on the other side. Simple as that. You have no idea what’s coming for you. You let me go, and we’ll just say Auf Wiedersehen.”

  “I’ve never been a fan of foreign goodbyes,” said Blake, pulling out a gun of his own. He fired, grazing Pike’s arm.

  Pike fired wildly while abruptly exiting the ballroom; Blake covered me with his body as we crashed to the floor.

  “If he wanted to kill us, he would have,” I said, pushing off the ground.

  “Doesn’t mean he won’t still,” said Blake. “You stay here. I’m going after him.”

  “Oh, like hell.” Flipping my dress, I grabbed my gun, and said, “Go! Go! I’ve got your back!”

  We ran into the hall; Pike was already halfway up the second staircase. People were fleeing the ballroom in a panic after hearing gunshots. The guards I now knew were Blake’s were nowhere to be found.

  “It’s always the roof,” Blake grumbled, taking to the stairs.

  “Where are the guards? They’re all gone! And Ty! Where’s Ty?”

  “They’re where they’re supposed to be!” said Blake, firing a shot.

  “Ivy? Greg? Ty? Can you hear me?” I shouted.

  Nothing.

  Pike unloaded a flurry of bullets in our direction. We dodged left and right, sometimes barely avoiding getting hit. Still, Pike never hit us, and I knew it wasn’t because Blake and I were superior dodgers. Like I thought, Pike didn’t really want to kill us, not now at least. Blake and I seemed to be on the same page with our firing: shoot to wound, not kill.

  When we reached the roof, there was a helicopter closing in. Pike stood, waving his arms at the copter.

  “PIKE!” I screamed.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” said Blake, pointing his gun at Pike. “That helicopter isn’t for you.”

  “You don’t get it! I beat you! Someone will have called the police by now, and if they find you up here, they’ll find you in possession of the diamond and know once and for all you’re the Manx. And you know what? I’ll rat you out, man. Hell, I’ll rat all of you out. I’d pay to see Ivy in an orange jumpsuit. I’ll cop a deal and end up a hero. You think I wouldn’t protect myself in case things went wrong? In case the real power I’m working for decided to betray me?”

  “And you were betrayed tonight, Pike. You were viciously betrayed. Because whoever it is that you’re working for knew we intercepted the diamond, we made sure of that. They didn’t send reinforcements to help you, did they? You’re expendable to them, but you were family to us. You chose badly,” said Blake.

  “I don’t give a damn, Blake! Don’t you see? You’re going down in flames, all of you are! They’ll catch you with the diamond. I. STILL. WIN!”

  “And that’s where you’re wrong. Might want to check your pocket, mate,” said Blake.

  When Pike reached into his pocket, his face went sickly pale. He pulled his hand out of his coat pocket: Resting in his palm was the fake diamond. That’s why Blake circled him like a shark—he’d slipped the diamond in Pike’s coat without him even realizing.

  “Looks like you’re the Manx. I believe that’s what they call checkmate…mate.”

  Pike unleashed a furious scream. He took aim at us again, but somewhere in the distance, a gunshot slice
d through the night air, and Pike fell to the ground. Blake and I sprinted for him.

  Blake helped Pike sit upright, balancing him against his knee. “Tell us who you’re working for.”

  Pike laughed like a maniac while intermittently coughing up blood. “The real power in this realm isn’t you…it’s someone you…”

  I didn’t know what had happened, but another shot rang out, and I had blood splatter all over me. Someone had shot Pike through the head.

  “Maggie, you have to get out of here! Now!” shouted Blake, standing up and pulling me to my feet.

  “What? What? I’m not leaving you! I’m not!” I turned to see the helicopter preparing to land. “The shooter could be in that helicopter! We have to go before it lands! Blake…please!”

  “I need you to trust me.” He pressed his forehead against mine, just the way I loved. Our cold noses rubbed together. “I love you.”

  “I love you. I love you,” I said desperately.

  And then he slowly backed away. “Go. Go now. I need you to go. Get off the roof, Maggie. I’ve got to clean up here. We’ll talk later.”

  “In a little while?” I said pleadingly.

  “In a little while.”

  Another shot rang out, and Blake collapsed to his knees.

  “BLAKE!” I screamed. As I started running for him, someone wrapped their arms around my waist.

  “We’ve got to get out of here, Maggie.” It was Ivy.

  “Ivy? What are you—Blake’s been shot…he’s been shot…we have to help him,” I cried, struggling against her unforgiving grip.

  As if this nightmare couldn’t get any more horrific, yet another gunshot poisoned the night, turning what little blood I still had flowing through me into pure ice. Blake, almost as if in slow motion, fell forward. He wasn’t moving.

  “BLAKE! BLAKE!” My eyes were frozen on Blake’s lifeless body.

  “Oh Christ! Maggie! NOW!” screamed Ivy, and I was no longer able to resist her yanking.

  The last thing I saw before Ivy pulled me into the stairwell was a group of men in black ski masks jumping from the helicopter as it finally landed on the roof. They ran immediately for Blake’s body.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I had no clear memory of how Ivy got us out of Mankazian Mansion before authorities arrived. The last thing I remembered was seeing Blake’s body motionless on the roof and men in ski masks running for him; the next thing I recalled was Ivy helping me into my apartment and putting me to sleep, much like a mother or a big sister would. I’d spent every second since in my apartment, living like a vampire, drapes drawn day and night. Of course, part of that was due to a small, but persistent group of reporters relentlessly stalking the front of my building.

  In the days following New Year’s Eve, I had gone from an insignificant speck on the social scene to an all-out New York City celebrity…of the notorious fifteen minute variety, that is. I wasn’t the only story the media had to chew on, however. The disappearance of Blake Traverz and the ‘identity’ of the Manx shared an equal number of front page headlines. For the thousandth time, I skimmed some of the more eye-catching headlines online. Some of them were doozies:

  ‘Blood of Blake Traverz Found on Mankazian Roof’

  ‘New York Tycoon Blake Traverz Victim of Manx Conspiracy?’

  ‘Pike Ford, a.k.a. the Manx: His Life of Crime’

  ‘Fake Diamond Found on Body of the Manx, Pike Ford’

  ‘Final Heist: How the Manx stole the Celestial Diamond & Why He Had a Fake’

  ‘The Manx, Pike Ford, Duped on Final Heist?’

  ‘Blake Traverz, the Hero? Did Finance Wiz Die Trying to Catch the Manx?’

  ‘Margaret McKennla Being Courted by Media Moguls for First Interview’

  ‘Missing Margaret: Is She Still in Danger? Cops Say ‘Yes’’’

  ‘Blake Traverz Feared Dead’

  I slammed my laptop shut and rubbed my tired eyes. When my private phone rang, I jumped to answer it, hoping it would be Blake. It wasn’t. Still, this phone hadn’t jingled since New Year’s Eve, and it wasn’t from lack of trying. I’d been calling and texting Ivy, Greg, and Ty religiously. I never received a response or a return call. I’d hoped there was a reasonable explanation. My imagination had taken to flying in all sorts of directions, most of which were completely ridiculous, but totally worthy of a made-for-television movie. Finally, real answers might be on the horizon.

  “Ivy! Have you heard anything from Blake?”

  “Meet me at the BackAway Café in an hour,” she demanded. “I’ll explain everything then. And take a shower. If I know you, you’ve been a dud for days, and I don’t want to smell that.”

  “I’ll have to ditch the reporters outside my building.”

  “Slip out the back. Finn will be waiting for you in an alley between the laundry mat and some hideous little salon. You know where I’m talking about?”

  “Yeah, I know the place. And, F.Y.I., that salon isn’t half bad.”

  “They offer two-for-ones. Need I say more? Now, hurry up. We have a lot to cover and very little time.”

  We hung up, and I moved like I had fire ants in my pants. Once I showered, threw on a little makeup for Ivy’s sake, since she loathed a bare face, and slipped on some jeans, a gray surplice top, green leather jacket, and my black boots with silver spikes on the heels, I was off.

  Fortunately, the back of my building was clear, as was the alley across the way where Finn had the car tucked in between the salon and laundry mat. I hopped in the backseat with no one taking notice.

  “You hanging tough, Maggie?” asked Finn, pulling out.

  “Could be hanging tougher, but I’m getting there. How about you? I know how close you are with Blake.”

  “Worried, but hopeful. Blake is probably the most resourceful man I’ve ever met, more so than his father, even,” said Finn. “He’s like his mother in that way.”

  I completely understood what he meant. Despite her reclusive tendencies, Lydia Traverz was a force…a force that must hate me now. “How is Mrs. Traverz?” I asked tentatively.

  Finn hesitated in replying. “I hear she’s distraught. That lady has been through quite a lot. Losing her son cannot be easy.”

  I bowed my head, wishing I could call her, but knowing I shouldn’t. It wasn’t the right time. Her emotional state was probably unbearable; she certainly didn’t need me to force her mind and heart to confront my lies and true identity. Emotional overload would be an understatement.

  Finn dropped me off at a small, inconspicuous diner with a tatty awning, old rickety tables, and red leather booths that looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned in years. It was no mystery why Ivy chose this place: it smelled of grease, bacon, and all things delicious. No one from the New York elite would ever be caught dead in this joint. I spotted Ivy’s sleek blond pony tail sitting in a booth in a dark back corner of the restaurant.

  “Hey,” I said, slipping in opposite her. She wore jeans and a black sweater and looked entirely perturbed. “I know it must be something important if you’re willing to wear jeans and sit in a booth.”

  “Yes, not my pants or seat of choice.”

  “What can I get for you ladies?” Our waiter was cute, disheveled, and had grease stains all over his apron.

  “Just a couple of sodas would be great,” I said.

  “We’ll let you know if we decide to order anything else,” Ivy added, and I knew then we weren’t going to have lunch.

  “All right, I’ll be right back with those drinks,” said the waiter before heading back to the kitchen.

  Ivy sighed loudly. “Where do I begin?” She was visibly shaken. The sight rattled me worse than I could have anticipated.

  I knew right where Ivy needed to start. “Blake. Is he alive?”

  “I…I don’t know.” She was telling the absolute truth, and that truth terrified her.

  I ran my hands through my hair and grabbed my neck. “Ivy, what’s going on? What really happene
d New Year’s Eve? How did you know Pike had betrayed us?”

  The waiter brought our drinks and straws. Ivy removed the paper from her straw, slipped it in her soda, and gulped down a bit before answering.

  “We have to go back to our last strategy meeting, the one where I almost took your head off.”

  “Yeah, I recall.”

  “There were two things that betrayed Pike’s true intentions—”

  “Greg finding out about Proller’s military connection to Pike was the big one, right?”

  Ivy nodded. “But Blake’s suspicions started before then.”

  “Right, I remember him telling Pike as much on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Do you remember when Pike wondered why our mysterious competitors would bother trying to catch the Manx when everything is about you?”

  “I do remember that. Didn’t stand out as weird to me at the time.”

  “Me either, but it hit Blake immediately. You know how his gut instincts are pretty damn accurate. I’ve learned to trust them no matter how insane they sound, and the idea of Pike being a traitor was about as crazy as they come. Pike latching on to your past while so quickly, so firmly assigning it as the motive behind our attacks bothered Blake tremendously. Obviously, his instincts proved positive when Greg managed to uncover Pike’s link to Proller. That’s when he put it all together—knowing where we all lived made it easy for Pike’s new boss to get their hacker to mess with any cameras, allowing Pike to attack me and fake his own.”

  “And by leaving Ty as the only one unharmed, it could make him look suspicious should Blake suspect an in-house job.”

  “Exactly, only Pike didn’t anticipate Ty visiting Vanessa, his girlfriend,” said Ivy, taking another break to sip her drink. “They’ve been off and on for five years. Up until that time, they’d been in an ‘off’ phase. After the attacks on Halloween, Blake altered the heist plan, but didn’t clue in Pike. Though at that point, he knew we were being targeted by someone playing a dirty, dangerous game, possibly a new competitor, he only had a slight gut instinct where Pike was concerned.”