by C. R. Daems
"Raul, Julio, we goin’ have to find you an old lady to fuck. The young ones are too much for you. Let Sabas show you how it's done." He had left the door and headed for me, knife in hand. "Bitch, on the fucking floor and spread those legs or I'm goin’ cut out both your eyes, and you won't be so much trouble." A long switchblade snapped open. I stared in horror at the approaching monster. Maybe a dream, a retreat from reality, I felt the python move into me, and my mind began working again. I had two rings on that were the fangs of poison: on my right hand a tiger-eye with an extract of moonseeds and on my left hand my onyx ring with an extract of yew. They both would result in paralysis and most likely cardiac failure.
When he reached me, he ripped off my halter. "Not much in the way of tits."
I leaned forward and kissed him, and almost puked when his tobacco stained tongue snaked into my mouth. My arms went around him, and my left ring smacked into his MS666 tattoo. He stepped back and pointed to the floor, laughing.
"That's the way you do iiit—," he mumbled as he fell to his knees, clutching his chest. I began sliding towards the door to my living quarters.
"Stop her," Raul shouted. Julio lunged at me with a left punch, which I avoided by turning into him with an elbow to his ribs. Wrong move. These guys were used to fighting and pain. His left arm coiled around my neck, and he squeezed as his right fist repeatedly slammed into my ribs. I lifted my right foot and drove it down his leg and into the instep of his foot. Bones caved in, but he kept pounding me. I was probably lucky I didn't hit myself with my ring as I swung it in the direction of his arm. It was two more punches before he stopped and collapsed.
Raul stood looking at me for a long time, then smiled. "Let’s see if you're faster than a speeding bullet." He reached under his shirt and pulled out a hand gun.
We both looked towards the door when police sirens could be heard coming down the street and seconds later red and blue light was bouncing off my shop window. He dropped the gun when a megaphone sounded. "You are surrounded, come out with your hands raised."
I assume he and his friends had been there many times before. Better assault and battery than a murder charge. I staggered to the door, opened it, and fell out onto the sidewalk.
* * *
I woke in a daze and the smell of antiseptics. I moaned. It felt worse than last time. Although the pain was dull, it seemed to be everywhere.
"You’re safe, my love." I heard Jim's voice and made an attempt at a smile. "The man Grace had monitoring your security camera saw the three enter, and when the fight started he called 9-1-1. Grace arrived shortly after and took charge saying it was an ongoing FBI case. Two of the men are dead...how?"
I managed to take off the two rings. "Jim, lean close to me." When he did I whispered. "Take these two rings. Be very careful with them. They have a hypodermic needle in them and probably some poison left on the ring. Soak them in bleach." I held out my hand. He took them carefully and examined each one.
"I don't see any needle," he said as he slowly turned them around. "Oh, there is a hole in the stone. Clever. So you..."
"Yes. I hope there is no autopsy. I prefer the fact they were poisoned not be discovered."
"But it was self-defense," he said, looking confused.
"With all that is happening, it might be the difference between me surviving or not—like today." I smiled. "You need to get me released tomorrow."
"What?" he half shouted. "You aren't in any condition to leave the hospital."
"My darling, it's perfect. Disappearing before might have looked contrived and made the bad guys suspicious. Leaving now makes it look like I'm running from the MS666. It's perfect." I watched as Jim’s face went through a range of expressions beginning with defiance and ending in reluctant agreement. Before he left, he must have talked to the doctor on duty because the nurse injected something into my IV, which was the last thing I remembered.
* * *
Jim was sitting in a chair holding my hand when I woke.
"If you're trying to get me to say 'yes' you win. Yes, I'd love to marry you. My only reluctance has been involving you. These are very bad people. But I can't seem to get rid of you." I laughed, then almost screamed, as Jim leaned over to kiss me. He jumped back.
"Sorry, my love," he said but he couldn't stop smiling. "Today?"
"No, not today, you clown, but soon. Let's get through the next few weeks, then we have a lot to discuss and arrange. For now, you can get me released and back to my shop."
It took a while to get me cleared for release. If he hadn't been a local doctor, I doubt he could have gotten approval. He drove me back to my shop. I convinced him to leave right away and go back to his hospital so as to disassociate him from my leaving if anyone was watching. He did leave me a large bottle of oxycodone.
I slipped out the back door as soon as the sun had set and slowly made my way to Dauphine Street sneaking through alley ways and between buildings. There I caught a cab which I took to Toulouse Street and had him drop me next to The Shops at Jax Brewery, which was close to the Toulouse Station in case someone checked. I limped my way behind the Jax buildings to St Peter's Street and crossed over into the Visitors Center parking area. I arrived only minutes before I saw Ellen's silver Lexus SUV slowly coming towards me. I waved and she pulled up beside me. Ellen put my bag in the back and helped me up into the passenger side seat.
"You look like I should take you to emergency," Ellen said, giving me a long appraisal. “But I picked up the wig you asked for. I wish I knew what was going on.”
"It's a long story, and I'm exhausted. I'll explain later. Let just get away from here." Ellen remained quiet when I closed my eyes. Everything hurt and every bump and pot hole sent waves of pain shooting through my ribs up my chest and into my brain where it scored a perfect ten. I sighed in relief when she stopped.
"We're here, Mambo Renee."
"Renee, please," I said. She helped me to the front door where Vicky stood waiting.
"Hi, Vicky," I said before she could say anything. "I'll explain over coffee."
Vicky and Ellen left me in the front room in a comfortable recliner and headed for the kitchen. They returned a while later with coffee and a tray of snacks.
"First, I want to thank you for putting me up for a few days. I have some people after me because they believe I can tell the future and want me to help them do something evil. I need a place to hide while the FBI investigates." I laughed. "The injuries have nothing to do with that. Three MS666 gang members decided to punish me for helping another gang avoid being killed by them."
"Fortunetelling can apparently be a very dangerous business," Vicky said. "I'm glad to help in any way I can. You turned my life around—saved it."
They talked about Vicky's treatment, how the prognosis looked promising, and how her business was again showing a good profit. Seeing me fighting to keep awake, they got me settled in the guest bedroom and Ellen left.
* * *
I staggered out of bed early, spent an hour washing and dressing before venturing out into the kitchen where Vicky was busy eating a bowl of cereal.
"You look better this morning...Renee. There's cereal, juice, or I'll fry you some eggs if you prefer."
"Cereal and juice will be good. I'd like to get to my friend’s building by eight a.m. I really do appreciate you offering to drive me. I had planned to take a taxi, but a car would be less conspicuous and harder to trace. I'm afraid these are powerful people."
"The kind that it's worth opposing. I could never repay what you've done for me..."
"If I've helped you. That is payment and more."
At my insistence, Vicky dropped me a block away from the offices of Fontaine, Bousquet, and Allstott, and I walked the rest of the way to a back entrance. Wearing the blonde wig, I made my way to the fourth floor and down the hall to the suite the firm occupied. It wasn’t much of a disguise but combined with keeping a low profile, I thought it was enough. Ron’s secretary let me into his office and
even brought me coffee. Ron entered around eight fifty-five a.m.
"Renee, I heard what happened. Grace has a thousand questions—naturally. I’m willing to be your defense lawyer," he said and laughed as he pulled up another chair next to mine. "The preliminary autopsy indicated the two died of heart attacks. Grace has closed the case although she's dying to know how."
"Herbs," I said and smiled.
"Oh, that will satisfy her." He gave a hearty laugh. "I've the tape of the fight. You were impressive. Those were scary guys, and the idea that they could just kidnap you and keep you for their amusement is beyond comprehension. Yet you know it happens, probably more frequently than we can imagine." He snorted. "Grace must have stayed up all night going over the tape trying to figure out how you managed to kill those two. I did manage to get her to stop for an hour while I scanned the security footage for last night. Nothing that I could see."
"Give me your hands, Ron," I said reaching out towards him. However, when he saw me grimace in pain, he got up and moved a small table between us and placed his hands on it. I placed mine over his and watched as his day and the next unfolded. I smiled.
"Are Grace and I supposed to stop having mad, passionate sex while you're watching my future?" His cheeks turned a pale shade of pink.
"Tell Grace, the break in will be tonight, well officially tomorrow around 2:15 a.m., it's Sheila, and she will be there for about a half hour. Tell her I'd like to come along. I have an idea."
"How?" He shook his head like a dog after a bath and stared off into the distance. "By now they, whoever, have decided to break into your shop looking for clues to where you might have decided to go. So I will be reviewing a tape tonight with nothing on it, but the one I reviewed tomorrow night will have the break in on it. Of course, by then it would have already happened. Grace is right. It's enough to give one a headache, but it is obvious why a criminal could think of a hundred ways to capitalize on your gift. Seeing is great but being able to change the outcome...priceless."
"Yes. But if I change A then B, C, D...are also influenced and possibly changed."
"Now I definitely have a headache. How is Grace going to find you?"
"Tell her I'll join her at my shop at 2:30 a.m."
"I almost forgot to tell you. Grace said to tell you they discovered two bodies in the ocean, about a mile off the coast. One was a cigar smoker."
* * *
"Vicky, I really appreciate you driving me home at this hour," I said. It was two-twenty a.m., and the roads were deserted.
"Are you sure you are going to be safe at your shop? You are welcome to stay at my place as long as you need. It's no trouble."
"I appreciate you putting me up without any questions. Unless I am mistaken—"
"Renee, there's two cars in your alley and a man standing next to your door. Want me to continue going? We can go back—"
"No. It's safe. Again, thank you," I said as I climbed painfully out of the car. The man, who I didn't recognize, watched intently as I approached.
"Hi, I'm Renee. I live here."
"Grace did say you'd be here at two-thirty," he said, as he knocked on the door, and a minute later, the door opened.
"Renee," Grace said, smiling. "You're scary. Sheila isn't being cooperative. What do you have planned?"
"Let me talk to her. We're in need of a lead, and she may be in need of protection," I said thinking about the two bodies Grace had said they found in the ocean. "Do you have a photo of the two dead men Ron said you found?"
"Yes," Grace said pulling out her smartphone, tapping a few times on the screen, and handing it to me. I took it and proceeded into the shop where Mike and another woman stood guarding Sheila. She was dressed completely in black, skinny ankle pants, long sleeved sweater, and running shoes.
"Hi, Sheila. Nice outfit," I said as I sat down next to her. She showed considerable control, not moving when it was obvious from the hate in her eyes and shifting posture that she wanted to attack. "The people who want me to do their bidding are evil—"
"Don't know what you are talking about," Sheila said with a slight smirk.
"Then you don't care that your cigar smoking man and his aide were found floating in the ocean. Wouldn't be surprised if you couldn't contact Ken either. It's a throw-away world. No more fixing things when you no longer need them. Just buy new ones." Although she didn't comment her eyes grew wide for a second. I leaned over and grabbed her hands. She tried to jerk free but the handcuffs limited her motion, and she reluctantly relaxed. As I watched she was released from custody in a few days, which wasn't surprising as her only crime was breaking and entering. I watched as she consolidated her funds—a little less than five million—and took off for New Zealand where she had property and an established identity. Maybe real. I sat fascinated as I watched the time go by. Six months later, they found her.
"Well, are you going to tell me someone is going to kill me?" she said with a know-it-all smile.
"You already know that. These aren't the normal rich or mafia type you’re used to dealing with. These people have connections and power." I leaned closer to her. "Your millions and New Zealand identity will only delay the inevitable," I whispered. She jerked back away from me so violently her chair would have crashed to the floor if the male agent hadn't caught it in time. The hate in her eyes had turned to fear, and her face drained of color.
"Grace, how bad do you want the evil Mister X?" I asked, turning towards her. "Enough to give Sheila witness protection if she helps catch him?"
Grace stood silent for a long while looking between Sheila and me. "I'll consider it."
"How will that help?" Sheila asked, looking at me. "If he has the kind of power...you believe."
"To begin with, it could prevent any possible prosecution for other things the FBI finds in the course of future events, and you won't be alone. I'll help." I thought the implied by viewing your future might be the deal clincher. While Sheila sat quietly contemplating her terrible choices, Grace pulled me aside.
"What did you see?"
"Didn't have to. I know Sheila worked for the cigar man, and it's reasonable to assume he was in contact with the man or group after me. He's dead because the group is very careful and doesn't like loose ends. Sheila knows she walking on a knife’s edge and she could become a loose end when she accomplishes her task. These people have real power, so she going to need protection as soon as they discover she's been identified."
"We certainly can't hold her for long. We have her on breaking and entering. She didn't have time to steal anything." Grace laughed. "OK. We make deals with the minnows all the time in order to catch the big fish. And I agree with you. I think the people after you are big fish."
The discussions went on for hours. I doubted Sheila had too much faith in the Witness Protection program, but she liked the idea I would keep tabs on her future. Sheila would claim that I contacted Angela, which I would do tomorrow, and apologized for not letting her know I wasn't going to be there for our session. I had panicked over the MS666 incident. But I had decided to return when the FBI assured me they were monitoring them closely. Angela would then contact Sheila. The FBI would monitor Sheila's laptop in an effort to discover the server and a possible location of the individual on the other end.
After the specific details had all been worked out, I took Sheila's hands to make sure she would be alive for the next couple of weeks and actually got to see the communications between her and the man called Mister Black. Grace took me back to the condo where Jim was sitting up waiting.
"Being in love with you is living on the wild side. I think the Chinese have a saying, something about living in interesting times," he said, holding me in a death grip and kissing my hair.
"I think that's a curse."
"It would be if you weren't part of it. I caught you. You're a keeper. And I'm not throwing you back."
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Sheila
When they let Sheila go, she drove back to her h
otel and went straight to her room. She felt brain-dead. How the hell had they caught her? She had been sure no one had Renee's shop staked out. Why would they? The gang wasn't likely to return. She'd bet the FBI were swarming over their territory. By the FBI's response, she'd wager they knew to the minute when she'd arrive and how long she'd be there. She felt like they had her on a small island in the middle of a swamp full of crocs, poisonous snakes, and God knew what other creepy crawlers. She had nowhere to go that didn't have a bad ending. She opened her laptop and typed the agreed upon message—she had found nothing at Renee's shop—and got drunk.
* * *
The next day, after several Tylenol, she sent a message to Angela to go to Mambo Renee's shop and see if she could find out why she didn't show. Of course, she already knew why, and that her nemesis would be there. Shortly afterward, there was a knock at the door. When she answered, two men in maintenance clothing stood smiling outside.
"Ms. Volland, we're here to look at the leak you reported in the bathroom," the older man said, flashing FBI identification.
"About time," she answered. She had agreed it would be a good idea to sweep the room just in case. The older man immediately began walking around the room waving a handheld device.
"If you'll show me what's leaking, we'll have a look. Usually something just needs tightening or a washer replaced. Shouldn't take long."
"In there," I said pointing to the laptop lying on the bed. He nodded, picking it up and heading for the bathroom. A few minutes later the older man waved for her to follow him into the bathroom.
"No bugs, but there are windows. Why don't you show Darin how it works."
"Simple. The login password is Blackman with a capital B. When it comes to life, I click on the black envelope icon to send Mister Black email, the red envelope icon to send Angela email, and the black square with the yellow smiley face to check in with Mister Black."
"Does he always answer?" Darin asked.
"Yes, but I only click on it when he sets up an appointment. There is also a slot machine icon that is used for the game Angela is playing."
