I Hear Voices

by Gail Koger

  “It must be difficult.” I glanced around. Maybe this was this one of those reality shows where they pranked people.

  “Difficult she says,” Maude cackled again and pieces of masticated ham spewed from her mouth.

  “My Tom robbed a bank and do you think he’d give me some of the money? Hell no, so I turned him in and got the reward. I mean, I’m entitled to that reward money, ain’t I? The kids ain’t helping me out. I have bills and my measly social security check ain’t getting me to Vegas for a bit of fun.”

  She winked again. “If ya know what I mean?”

  Dear God, she was either for real or the best actress I had ever met. Where in the world had they found her? Was this Derek’s revenge for

  getting him arrested or was someone else behind the masquerade?

  Maude stuck her hand in her mouth and popped out a partial plate with two yellowed teeth. “This stupid piece of crap has never fit properly.” She dunked it in her glass of water. “Ain’t ya hungry?

  These are some mighty fine vittles.”

  “No, I had a big breakfast before I left.” Where was a Taser when you needed one? I edged my wheelchair back from the table. Taking the bus to Vegas was starting to look really appealing.

  The flight attendant entered the room with a dazzling smile. “You ladies ready for Vegas?”

  “Yes. Now, please.” I wheeled my chair over to her.

  “Now, hang on a dang minute. I’m her caretaker, so I should board first,” Maude growled and expertly maneuvered her wheelchair over to the door.

  “Okey-dokey then but don’t forget your teeth.”

  A manic donkey bray broke from Maude.

  “You’re a funny one all right.” She wheeled back, plucked her teeth from the glass and tucked them in her purse. “Make sure she doesn’t wander off now.”

  “I’ll lock the door,” the flight attendant said.

  “Good idea.” Maude bumped her wheelchair into the flight attendant’s leg. “Well, what ya waitin’ for missy? Let’s go.”

  With an eye roll, ‘Missy’ wheeled her out the door.

  A few seconds later I heard the door lock. Like that was going to stop me.

  Granny Annabel materialized next to me.

  “What a strange woman.”

  “Ya think?”

  The hair on the back of my neck suddenly stood at attention. “Derek’s here, isn’t he?”

  Granny shrugged. “Doctor Rossi sang like a pigeon.”

  “Canary,” I automatically corrected her.

  Granny threw up her hands in disgust. “English bah! Linguassio volgare!”

  My face itched like crazy and it was all I could do to keep from ripping the mask off. “Doctor Rossi couldn’t have known about Vegas.”

  “The doctor said you kept babbling on about Las Vegas and some stucco warrior in a brothel.”

  Wonderful! My heat exhaustion had turned me into a big mouthed, Chatty Kathy. “Does Derek know I’m disguised as an old lady?”

  “He knows.”

  “Yeah, but does he know about my twin?”

  Granny Annabel vanished.

  Dammit! I jumped out of the wheelchair, pulled a lock pick out of a hidden pocket in my purse and quickly picked the lock. I cautiously cracked the door open and peeped out.

  The

  flight

  attendant

  shoved

  Maude’s

  wheelchair into the waiting room, spun around dashed down the corridor like the devil himself was after her. Someone had really spooked her.

  I sidled up to a fake palm tree and took a cautious look around.

  His face harsh, stony and unyielding, Derek stalked across the waiting room and came to a stop in front of Maude. “You’re under arrest, Zelda.”

  “The name’s Maude, young fella and who the hell are you?”

  His mouth a hard line, Sloan grabbed her purse and looked inside. “Cut the act and that mole is ridiculous.”

  Maude let out an ear piercing scream. “Help!

  Police! He’s taking my money.”

  As a group of concerned onlookers gathered around them, Derek pulled out a badge and ID and held it up. “Homeland Security, Granny’s wanted for smuggling explosives.”

  “She ain’t no terrorist,” somebody shouted from the crowd.

  A woman yelled, “What’s next? You gonna strip her and do a cavity search?”

  And ta-da! Maude miraculously transformed into a befuddled elderly woman. Big alligator tears rolled down her face as she sobbed hysterically, “Who are you? Why do you have my purse? Give it back. Where’s my son?” She wildly surveyed the growing crowd. “Charlie! Charlie? Where are you?”

  Wonder how long it’ll take Sloan to realize he’s got the wrong granny?

  Derek gently patted her shoulder and leaned down to whisper something in her ear.

  Maude flinched and glanced over her shoulder.

  The Tomb Raider’s predatory gaze locked on the corridor where I stood sorta hidden behind the palm tree.

  Crap. I turned to run and crashed into a rock hard body. My apology died on my lips as I looked up at Dixon’s hard, chiseled features. Could this day get any worse?

  He grabbed my right arm and hustled me through a door marked employees only. “Are you deliberately trying to blow my gig?”

  “You set this up!?”

  “Well,

  it

  wasn’t

  your

  fucking

  Fairy

  Godmother.” He dragged me down a long hallway.

  “Why?”

  He laughed. “Derek’s always charmed women into doing what he wants. Until he met you and you’re driving him nuts.”

  “Oh.” I eyed his battered face. “Not revenge, huh?”

  Dixon shrugged. “Some. I like taking things from Derek.”

  “Some kinda family feud?”

  “You could say that.” He unlocked another door, pushed me inside a small storage room and pulled an orange jumpsuit off a shelf. “Put this on.”

  “Okay.” I took the jumpsuit. “Could you turn around?”

  He snorted and yanked off my wig. “Not likely sweetheart. Strip.”

  I carefully peeled off the itchy mask and dropped it in my purse. With a nervous glance at his mocking smile, I slowly unbuttoned my granny dress.

  “A bit shy, huh? No need for that. I’ve decided we need to get better acquainted.”

  Better acquainted? That sounded a bit ominous.

  A gasp of horror broke from me when the big, bad biker suddenly produced a huge buck knife and with one stroke cut my dress in half. It pooled around my feet. “Are you nuts?”

  “The cameras will be coming back on line in five minutes. Tic tock.” Dixon quickly cut off my padded body suit and his appreciative gaze roamed over my black lace bra and panties. “You’ve lost weight.”

  “Ummm… Thanks?” Totally freaked out, I hurriedly pulled the jumpsuit on.

  Dixon dropped a baseball cap on my head and opened the door. “Let’s go.”

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  “I get you to Vegas, you find the treasure and I become a very rich man.” He hurried me over to a golf cart and practically threw me inside.

  “And Derek?”

  “He can find his own gold.” Dixon put the cart in gear and sped down the service road.

  I glanced over my shoulder when I heard Derek shout, “Dammit Dixon, stop or I’ll shoot!”

  One look at the Glock Sloan had pointed at us and I dropped to the floor. “Think he’ll shoot at us?

  He looks really pissed.”

  “Nah, he can’t take the chance he’ll hit you or one of the airplanes.” Dixon whipped around a long, train-like baggage cart and shot down the tarmac to a waiting Bombardier Learjet with its ramp down.

  “You have a Learjet?”

  He shot me an amused look. “I travel a lot.” He brought the cart to a skidding halt, grabbed me and half-carried,
half-dragged me up the ramp.

  I caught a fleeting glimpse of Derek racing after us in the wildly snaking baggage cart which spewed luggage right and left.

  Throwing me in a seat, Dixon secured the cabin door and commanded the tattooed pilot, “Go!”

  The airplane accelerated rapidly, “We’re cleared for takeoff, boss.”

  “Good. Fasten your seatbelt, sweetheart, we might be in for a bumpy ride.”

  Glancing out the window, I saw Sloan was close to cutting us off with his baggage train. Was he nuts? I didn’t want to die in a big ball of fire.

  The jet lifted off and we zoomed over Derek, barely missing decapitating him by a scant foot.

  Dixon’s cell phone rang and he answered it with a smug grin. “You snooze, you lose. Fuck you, too, asshole. You never paid for her and I protect what’s mine.”

  I could hear Derek’s rather profane curses.

  “Nah, the mistake was yours. Once Zelda finds the gold, I’ll be a very rich man.” Dixon laughed at Derek’s response. “And the bonus is I get to pop her cherry.”

  I stared at him in horror. Pop my cherry!?

  Dixon held the phone away from his ear for a moment as Derek swore furiously. “I had her Aunt Sophie investigated and it seems she sold her soul to Asmoday. That particular demon is big into virgin sacrifice.” He gave me a meaningful look.

  Dear God, did the entire world know I was a virgin? Was it stamped on my forehead?

  Dixon’s grin got bigger. “I also got intel that dear Aunt Sophie put a million dollar bounty on Zelda’s head. Yeah, a million dollars and she has to be unharmed and get this, still a virgin to collect.”

  I opened my psychic eyes and reached out.

  “Granny I need you.”

  She appeared next to me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Can you find out if Aunt Sophie put a bounty on me?”

  She nodded and vanished.

  Dixon groused into the phone. “She’s talkin’ to herself again.” He listened for a minute. “A ghost, huh? Go figure. Nice chattin’ with you but I’ve got a cherry to pick. You might have a thing about virgins but I don’t. I kinda like the thought of being her first.” Chuckling, he closed his cell phone and stood.

  I looked around frantically. Was there a parachute on this jet, cuz I was ready to jump!

  The big, bad biker noticed my panic-filled expression. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll make it good for you.”

  “Gosh, I’m a bit… Overwhelmed at your utterly romantic offer. Could I think about it for a year or two?”

  “No.” Dixon leaned down until we were nose to nose. He placed a massive hand on each arm rest, effectively trapping me in my seat. “It’s an easy fix for a really big problem.” His lips caressed mine.

  “Relax. You’re about to join the mile high club.”

  Hallefrickinlujah!

  My

  dream

  had

  been

  answered. Not! I shoved against his powerful chest.

  “What about your wife?

  “Sarah? What about her?”

  “Don’t you think she’ll be hurt, betrayed and angry?”

  “Nope, she divorced me six months after Amy was taken. She blamed me for the entire fiasco.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. How’s Amy doing?”

  Dixon gave me a derisive look. “You’re stalling.”

  Of course I was. The psychic women in my family were cursed. We were forever bound to whoever took our virginity. “Yeah, so? I don’t want to join the mile high club and I don’t want my cherry popped.”

  “You’d rather be sacrificed to a demon?”

  “Well no but…” His kiss was commanding, very thorough and left me cold. I jabbed him in the neck

  with my handy-dandy tranquillizer ring. I had been saving it for Derek but this was an emergency.

  He grabbed his neck. “What did you do?”

  “No means no, asshole.”

  Dixon roared, “What did you do?”

  “I gave you an injection of Hydroxyzene HCL.

  It’s rather fast acting. Nighty-night.”

  His eyes rolled back in his head and he toppled to the floor.

  “You aren’t popping my cherry you cock-sucking, knuckle-dragging creep,” I muttered furiously as I searched him. “The only one picking my cherry is Derek and there’s little chance of that happening. So I die a virgin, big friggin’ deal.” I pulled a . caliber Smith & Wesson from his ankle holster and discovered a pair of handcuffs tucked in his back pocket. Where the hell was the knife?

  That’s when I noticed a slight bulge between his shoulders and lifted up his shirt. Dixon was wearing a harness with a nice quick draw knife sheath. Very carefully, I pulled it out and examined the razor sharp blade. Nice workmanship and it was perfectly balanced.

  Should I try it out? An evil grin curved my mouth. Why the hell not? With a flick of my wrist, I threw it and the knife impaled itself nicely in the far seat. Grinning, I stepped over Dixon and doing as much damage as I could, I yanked the knife out of the very expensive Corinthian leather seat.

  Okay, I’m a bitch, sue me.

  I tapped Dixon on the shoulder. “You don’t mind if I keep the knife, do ya?”

  The big, bad biker began to snore like a grizzly bear in heat.

  “No? Gosh, I’ll treasure it always.” I dropped the knife in the purse along with the cuffs.

  Now all I had to do was commandeer the aircraft. Hiding the gun behind my back, I let out a blood curdling scream and shrieked, “Help! Please help me.”

  The cockpit door remained firmly closed.

  Well, hell, guess Dixon had a lot of screaming women on his airplane. What a surprise. Stripping down to my underwear, I tucked the gun in my waistband.

  I took a step and it fell out, smacking the lecherous biker in the head. “Oh Crap! Sorry.”

  Dixon didn’t even grunt, he just kept on snoring.

  Picking up the gun, I stuffed it in the back of my panties, walked over to the cockpit door and banged frantically. “Please! I think he had a heart attack.”

  The door was immediately flung open. The pilot took one look at Dixon and pulled a Glock from a side holster. His creepy, hot-eyed gaze roved over me and settled on my clunky orthopedic shoes.

  I giggled madly. “He thinks old lady shoes are sexy.”

  The pilot snorted. “What happened?”

  Letting the tears roll down my cheeks, I did my best hysterical, ditzy female act. “We were just getting to the good part. And… And he grabbed his chest and collapsed. I think it’s a heart attack. My dad died from something called the widow maker and I can’t do that again. I mean, I really, really hate funerals. Can you help him? I think we need to get him to a hospital. Should I call —?”

  The pilot gave me a suspicious look, bent down and checked Dixon’s pulse. “I don’t think it’s a heart attack.”

  “Really?” I kicked him hard in the face. His head snapped back and he slumped to the floor, stunned. “Me either.” Quickly cuffing the men together, I retrieved the Glock and backed away as Dixon moaned and thrashed around. Omigod! He shouldn’t be waking up this fast.

  The pilot erupted to his feet and took a swing at me. His fist missed me by a good foot as he was jerked backwards by two hundred pounds of dead weight.

  “You fucking bitch,” the pilot yelled, lunging wildly at me. His face red with effort, he tried to pull Dixon’s limp body down the aisle, but his legs kept getting caught on the seats.

  “Ya know, if you break the boss’s legs, he’s gonna be pissed.”

  “There’s nowhere for you to run, you fucking cunt. Get these cuffs off me now and I might let you live!”

  I pointed the Glock at him. “Is that nice? I think you should apologize. I’d really hate to have to shoot ya.”

  He bared his teeth in a snarl. “What did you do to the boss?”

  “He wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I put him to sleep.”

 
“He’s gonna fucking kill ya.”

  “Doubtful. I have something he wants.”

  He surveyed me from head to toe and sneered.

  “He gets all the pussy he needs. You ain’t that special, bitch.”

  “Oh, but I am.” Keeping the gun trained on him, I grabbed my jumpsuit and purse.

  “You’re fucking nuts.”

  I shrugged. “Some people think I am. Can’t imagine where they get that idea from. Oh, by the way, I need to borrow your airplane for a bit.”

  Alarm flared in his eyes. “Have you ever flown a Bombardier Learjet before?”

  “Nope but how hard can it be?” At his horrified expression, I hurriedly shut and locked the cockpit door.

  The pilot shouted some very creative profanities.

  That man really needed his mouth washed out.

  I quickly dressed and climbed into the pilot’s chair.

  “Ouch!” I had forgotten the stupid gun. I wriggled, jiggled and shimmied frantically until the gun slid down my leg and clunked to the floor. I

  dumped it in my purse, sat down and tried to ignore the pilot’s vulgar threats.

  One look at the control console and I groaned.

  Complicated didn’t even begin to describe it. This wasn’t the friggin’ space shuttle and did I really need all this crap?

  Good thing Uncle Aldo insisted on me getting a pilot’s license. I was instrument rated but I hadn’t finished my multi-engine course yet. On the bright side, I had managed to get twenty hours of flight simulator training on the Learjet. The downside was it had been over a year ago and my memory was a bit spotty.

  Panic knotted my stomach. If I could just find the flight manual, I might be able to land this bird without crashing. I quickly checked the storage compartments. Shit, nothing but porn magazines, condoms and a bottle of expensive whiskey. Maybe if I asked the pilot nicely, he would agree to help me.

  The cockpit door shuddered from a massive blow. “Let me in, you fucking bitch!”

  Nope, that option was definitely out.

  Chapter Ten

  “Granny Annabel I need your help!”

  Still wearing her flight attendant’s outfit, she materialized in the co-pilot’s chair and looked around in alarm. “Are you sure this is a wise move?