by Spencer Baum
“People are talking about you, Jill,” he said after taking his first sip. “Even on the other side of the country, I’m hearing some pretty incredible stories about you.”
“I’m not surprised,” Jill said.
Walter pulled the lever to recline his chair. With his feet up, he kicked off his shoes and took a long drag on his martini, then he said, “It sounds like you and Ryan have everything under control at school and the Coronation contest, and that you’ve outsmarted anyone who might stand in your way. I know it doesn’t mean much to you, but I was really pleased to hear that you got the best of the Renwicks. And I want you to know, whatever you need from me, even if it’s just to stay out of your way, you’ve got it.”
It was a concession speech. After years of fighting with his daughter about every little thing, Walter Wentworth was admitting he had lost. More than once in the past few years, Jill had imagined a moment like this. She was surprised to find that she wasn’t enjoying it at all.
“So you’re not angry I’ve been keeping secrets from you?” she said.
Walter let out a laugh. “Lord knows I don’t have any right to be angry,” he said. He gulped down another drink. “Listen, Jill, the last time we spoke, you said some things to me, about your mother.”
“Yes, and you promised me you were going to have a talk with her.”
“We’ve had that talk,” said Walter. “Your mother heard the full truth about her past, about where she is from and what I did to her when we got married—you never did tell me how you broke her programming.”
“And I never will.”
“Right. Well, I feel good about where your mother is at. I know what I did to her—it’s a big deal to you, and it should be. But believe it or not, it’s not a big deal to Carolyn. She just wanted to get back to work.”
“Of course she did,” said Jill. “She doesn’t know anything else.”
“It makes her happy, Jill. Can it really be so bad if it makes her happy? I mean, think of the life she would have lived had I not…”
He stopped mid-sentence to take a drink. Jill finished the thought for him.
“Had you not bought her illegally from Melissa Mayhew?” she said.
Walter cringed and looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening. When he spoke again, he did it in a quiet voice.
“Yes, had I not bought her, she’d already be dead. But now she lives in a beautiful house, she has a daughter, and she does what makes her happy. I hope that, for her sake, for all our sakes, you can let it go now. I’m sure you’ve heard that Daciana is back in town. It won’t be long before she has more work for us to do.”
“Just so long as the work she’s doing is her choice, not yours.”
“She loves programming computers, Jill.”
“I know.”
In her mind, Jill added, I’ll make sure she has plenty of programming work in whatever new life she leads when all of this is over.
“I know you’re busy,” Walter said. “Don’t let me keep you.”
As Jill walked away, Walter turned on the TV to a college football game. She felt bad for him. In Walter’s mind, everything was settled and life could go back to normal.
If he had even the slightest clue about what his daughter was planning, he’d be in his bedroom packing a suitcase.
*****
The Jensons returned to Potomac two days before Christmas. Ryan wanted Jill to come to their house immediately to keep up appearances, but Jill put him off for a day. When she finally did see him, it was as a guest at his family’s Christmas Eve party.
“Ah! There she is!” was how Suzette greeted her at the front door. Suzette air-kissed both of Jill’s cheeks. “How are your folks?”
“They’re just fine,” said Jill.
“I wish you could have come skiing with us. We had so much fun! Except Roger, of course. He took a tumble on the first day.”
Suzette pointed to Ryan’s father, who was limping around near the Christmas tree. He had a brace covering the length of his right leg, and a big plastic boot on his foot.
“Ouch,” Jill said.
“Don’t ever get old. It’s hell,” Suzette said, then let out an awkward laugh. “If you’ll excuse me, I think Roger’s mother just pulled into the driveway. I’ll need to help her climb up the stairs. I believe you’ll find Ryan in the garage. We just gave him his Christmas present. You’ll want to see it. In a way, it’s your present as much as his!”
Jill pushed her way through the crowded party, meandering out of the front room, through the living area, and to the staircase at the back. She went down one level and entered the garage through a door in the game room.
She found Ryan standing alone, looking pensively at a bright orange…something.
“Ryan?”
“Oh, hey.”
Jill stepped inside, closer to Ryan and the orange hunk of glass and metal.
“What in God’s name are we looking at here?”
“My new car.”
“It looks more like a spaceship,” Jill said. “A bright orange rocket straight out of a comic book.”
“See, I was thinking it looked more like a submarine from some old underwater adventure movie.”
Jill laughed.
“What in the world is this thing?” she said.
“It’s a Lamborghini,” said Ryan. “My dad’s always wanted one.”
“Oh, it’s your dad’s.”
“Nope. All mine,” Ryan said, with a bit of resignation in his voice. “My dad ordered it for himself a year ago. All sorts of custom features, everything he’d ever dreamed about having as a teenager, but when it arrived at the dealership last week, he had second thoughts.”
“Really? Second thoughts about an apricot-colored space car? Seriously, Ryan, this thing looks like it’s ready to blast off.”
“I wish I could say my dad’s reservations were a matter of taste. But that wasn’t it. If my dad could drive this car, he would, but…here, let me show you.”
Ryan pulled on the handle of the passenger door, which didn’t open out, but up.
“It’s like a chicken wing,” said Jill.
“Makes me think of a penguin flapping its arms,” said Ryan.
“Who ever heard of an orange penguin?” said Jill.
Ryan laughed. “Go ahead. Get in,” he said.
Jill slid underneath the open door and into the passenger seat, which was tilted down at a sharp angle, thrusting her feet into the floorboard.
“It’s all caddywampus in here,” she said.
“That’s the problem,” said Ryan. “My dad was fifteen pounds lighter when he did a test drive last year.”
Jill looked over at the driver’s seat. The space between the steering wheel and the chair bottom was really narrow.
“He doesn’t fit anymore?” she said.
“He won’t admit it, but yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s why I’m getting a two hundred thousand dollar custom-made Italian sports car for Christmas.”
Jill leaned over and looked at the speedometer. The numbers on the dial went three times as high as on a normal car.
“Looks like it goes really fast,” she said. “It’s going to get a lot of attention in the senior lot.”
“Yes it is,” said Ryan. “I will officially be that guy. Oh, come look at this.”
Ryan held out his hand to help Jill out of the car. He continued holding her hand as he walked her around the back of the car to show her the license plate.
DREAMSICLE
“Oh my God,” Jill said, unable to stymie her laugh. “It’s got a name! I love it!”
“Don’t laugh too hard. You’ll be arriving at Daciana’s party in this car, just like me.”
“I’ll be proud to be a passenger in the Dreamsicle,” she said.
She found herself leaning into Ryan, pressing her arm against his while they still held hands.
He leaned back.
For a few seconds, it all slipped away from her. The
Network. The plan. Daciana’s house. The stubbornness of the others and their vision of completing a mission that wasn’t meant to be finished.
The double life she had led for the past three years.
She leaned against Ryan and he leaned back, the two of them hand-in-hand, having a moment, living in the present.
“I’ve missed you,” she said to him.
There were a few seconds of silence before he responded.
“I’ve missed you too,” he said.
Perhaps it was the car that made it all seem so easy. The ridiculous, bright orange Dreamsicle, a car so impractical Ryan’s father couldn’t even sit in it—the car was a reminder that even in a world as stormy and frightful as the one Jill and Ryan occupied, there was still room for laughter. For friendship. Or maybe even something more.
“I need to talk to you about Daciana’s party,” Ryan said.
“Yeah, I need to talk to you about that too,” said Jill. “But I don’t really want to. Not right now, at least.”
Ryan took a step away. He let go of Jill’s hand. She wanted to reach out and make him hold on, but she controlled herself. The moment was over.
“We should talk about it now,” he said. “It’s important. A single mistake on our part might ruin Nicky’s chances of winning Coronation.”
Jill’s shoulders slumped. This was the Ryan from a week ago. The boy who woke up one morning so obsessed about Coronation that he walked right out of the safe house.
“When people ask us about our story,” he said, “I was thinking maybe I could do most of the talking. Just like at dinner with my parents.”
“That’s fine with me,” said Jill.
“And we should stay together. It will be much easier to keep our stories straight if we can hear what the other person is saying.”
Jill shook her head.
“An hour in, I’ll be sneaking away from the party,” she said. “I need you to cover for me.”
“What are you talking about? You have somewhere you need to go?”
“Network business,” Jill said. “The less you know about it, the better.”
“I don’t understand. I thought winning Coronation for Nicky was the Network’s business. What are you planning to do?”
“An hour into the party, I’m planning to step out for a bit, and I need you to cover for me. If people ask where I am, I need you to tell them I just went to the bathroom, or that you saw me a few minutes ago.”
“No, this doesn’t sound like a good idea at all.”
“Everyone is going to be drunk so they’ll be easy to fool. I’ll be away from the party for about thirty minutes, but I need for everyone to think I never left.”
“What the hell are you going to do? Jill, this is an important night for us. It will be the first time everyone will see us together as a couple. We’ve got a whole semester of work ahead of us and it starts at this party.”
Jill looked at Ryan. His face was so perfect. So full of memory for her. She had been so crazy, madly in love with him once.
It was a different time.
“I’m walking away from the party and you’re going to cover for me,” Jill said. “It’s already decided. There will come a point during the night when I will be gone, and you will have no choice but to help cover up my absence. If people start to get suspicious about where I am, it will be bad news for all of us.”
“There’s nothing I can say to change your mind about this, is there?”
Jill shook her head.
“Fine. I’ll cover for you. But whatever it is you’re going to do, do it quickly, alright?”
“Trust me. I’ll be back as fast as I can.”
Chapter 17
Daciana stepped off her plane shortly after midnight. Sergio greeted her on the tarmac and walked her to a car that was waiting. As they drove to Daciana’s mansion, Sergio pulled out his notebook and showed her the names of the families he had spoken to already.
“The Jensons,” said Daciana, reading the first name on the list. “I take it Ryan didn’t have any information in his brain about his time in captivity?”
“It appears he was asleep the entire time,” Sergio said.
Daciana nodded. “Yes, I wouldn’t expect Falkon and Renata to allow their prisoners to see anything. I see you’ve spoken with the Wentworths as well?”
“I thought they were worth a chat since it was Jill who solved the Rose Ransom,” Sergio said. “They are innocent too.”
“They’ve always been loyal,” said Daciana. “What about the Bloom family? What did you learn in talking to them?”
“Nicky’s memory of her time in captivity is just as vague as Ryan’s.”
“But you found nothing suspicious with her parents?”
“Not at all,” said Sergio. “Very loyal to you and the clan.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing,” said Daciana. “Although I must admit I’m disappointed we don’t have any new leads. I am so eager to find Renata.”
“I am as well.”
They arrived at Daciana’s mansion and entered through the garage. Daciana’s head of house, a servant named Chester, greeted Daciana as if she had only been gone for a few hours.
“Welcome back, My Lady,” he said, with a small bow.
Daciana wasn’t so casual about her return.
“Chester!” she said with a smile. “What a pleasure it is to see you.”
She gave him a big hug, which was amusing for Sergio to watch. Chester had clearly never been hugged before. He stood in place, his arms at his sides, rather like a dog being patient with an affectionate child.
“It’s so good to be back in this house!” Daciana said, throwing her arms up and spinning in a circle.
“Your servants are always pleased to see you in good spirits,” Chester said. “Is there anything I may get for you?”
“Deliveries,” said Daciana. “Have we received any today?”
“Two trucks, each carrying six pallets,” Chester said. “The manifest said the goods were to be set up in the foyer, so that’s what we have done.”
Daciana clapped her hands together in excitement.
“This is going to be so much fun! Come on, Sergio! Let’s go look!”
She led Sergio to the foyer, where her servants were busily transforming the front room of Daciana’s house into a casino.
“Isn’t it lovely?” she said, walking up to a roulette wheel and giving it a spin.
The roulette wheels and dice pits and card tables took Sergio back to another time, when he and Daciana were new arrivals in America and Daciana was just getting a toehold in the mafia.
“It’s from the old hideaway spot on L street,” Daciana said. “Do you remember?”
“I remember,” said Sergio.
“All those nights when everyone would sneak into the club. We were all living secret lives back then. Running liquor, numbers games, gambling houses.”
“It was a great time,” Sergio said.
“Seventy years this stuff has been in storage!” She went to a craps table and threw the dice. “Locked away just like I was! I’ve been excited about this idea all week. Casino night. One of my favorite Coronation events! We gather everyone at my house. Everyone! The students and the clan. It will be like the early days of Coronation, when everyone was excited to see who was vying to join our ranks. We act like the family we’re supposed to be. We honor our traditions. We make Coronation special again, and root out any disloyalty.”
“It sounds lovely,” Sergio said. “Although, I can’t help but think there is one thing amiss.”
“Really? What’s that?”
“The Kwan girl has an overwhelming lead in the Coronation contest.”
Daciana furrowed her brow. “What are you saying?”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Sergio said, “but it sounds like you want a fresh start.”
“Yes, I suppose that is what I want.”
“You want the clan to return to its roots.”
“That’s right.”
“All of us loyal to you, our queen.”
“How else would it be?”
“The problem, Daciana, is that this year’s Coronation contest, as it stands now, is all Renata’s doing. She broke tradition in the Rose Ransom, ignoring the recommendation of the regents about which girl to kidnap.”
“Yes, but that’s over now.”
“Renata changed the rules so she could kidnap the richest boy in school, and get an enormous sum in the ransom pot, money which we both know she intended to steal.”
“But she didn’t steal it.”
“Precisely. When the Wentworth girl solved the Ransom, she took that enormous pot of money and gave it to one of the Coronation contestants. But the pot was artificially large. Renata tampered with the rules to make it that way.”
“Are you saying Samantha Kwan’s lead is illegitimate somehow?”
“I’m saying the whole contest is tarnished by Renata’s betrayal, and it isn’t right to allow Samantha Kwan to walk away with victory like this. If we do, we’ll always know she became an immortal because of Renata’s treachery.”
“I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Daciana said.
“I agree with your vision of returning the clan and Coronation to its roots,” Sergio said. “But I think we can’t do that unless you assert control of the contest and ensure that this year’s winner is your winner, not Renata’s.”
“I don’t want to just wipe out Samantha’s lead. That doesn’t seem right. Jill Wentworth solved some very difficult clues and chose to give the money to Samantha Kwan.”
“Perhaps there is a way to make the contest interesting again without changing the first semester results,” Sergio said. “One that honors our shared past, while also allowing for a fresh start upon your return.”
“I get the feeling you have something specific in mind.”
Sergio nodded. “You and I once looked on as four humans participated in a very clever game of numbers, a game centered around a safe with four bejeweled dials.”
“Are you suggesting I have the girls wearing black play the same numbers game the Hastings family played?”
“There are four girls wearing black, and four dials on the safe.”
