Jezebel's Ladder

by Scott Rhine

  She eased off the sofa and onto the floor, doing the splits in a fluid motion. Past discussions about the contortions she could perform for her escape tricks ran through his mind. Benny’s hand was actually shaking. “That’s a great move.”

  She shook her head slowly. “Not my best one. These hot tubs have handles on the side. I grab one set with my hands.” She put her arms behind her head and squeezed the leather cushion. “And the other set with my feet,” she said as she placed her ankles against the sofa arms on opposite sides. When her skirt slid back, he started hyperventilating.

  “You should try it,” she said as he stared at her taut, dancer’s legs and lingered on the inch of fabric separating them. “Slide into the hot water. Let it wrap around you, and the motion of the bubbles will wash away five years of stress.”

  His face was numb. “We can still make it tonight.”

  “All night, or just a little post-engagement quickie?” she asked.

  “No, to Vegas. You said I get to pick when. I choose tonight.” His breathing couldn’t get much more ragged without her calling an ambulance.

  All teasing gone from her voice, she stood up in front of him. “Babe, I wasn’t pushing; I just wanted to help you enjoy the weekend. Are you sure?”

  He nodded quickly and left the room. “I’m going to pack. Don’t touch me or say anything to me until I cool down.”

  She hit redial. “He doesn’t want to wait. We’re hitting Vegas tonight. He has the worst cast of MSB I’ve ever seen, but he only wants authorized treatment providers. He turned down a visit from the naughty night nurse.”

  Claudette hooted with laughter for several seconds. “We can take my plane. I was going to the Tribeca film festival, but family is more important.”

  “I have everything else I’ll need in my ready bag, but I don’t have a dress!” Jez remembered.

  “I’ll handle that. You just pick out some nice lingerie, and make sure it tears easily.”

  ****

  They went with a minimal flight crew and only two guards. Jez reserved four of the best suites, an entire floor of the hotel. When they checked in, the girl behind the desk recognized her. “Miss Johnson, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

  With all the famous people in their party, Jez was dumbfounded. She explained to her friends, “I used to work here. Maybe one of my colleagues recognized the name—it’s kind of unusual.” To the clerk, she said, “Um… I’m getting married tonight.”

  The clerk’s smile went up a hundred watts. “Excellent!”

  After Jez signed for an astronomical bill, they ran her magic card—no limit yet. Handing over the key cards, the clerk said, “Very good, Miss. A pleasure to see you again. I’ll send the complimentary meal vouchers and champagne up to your rooms with the luggage.”

  “No champagne for my room or the minors,” Jez insisted. The clerk seemed to perk up at this bit of information. To Claudette, she said, “As for the food, I think I’ve gained enough weight lately.”

  The starlet said, “Hon’, for the last month, you’ve had a valid medical excuse.”

  The clerk immediately texted a hundred of her closest friends that Jezebel Johnson had to get married because she was one-month pregnant.

  As they left the lobby, Benny grumbled, “Why didn’t anybody recognize me?”

  “Be quiet if you want to get laid by midnight,” Claudette said. “Tan, get him to the chapel. Trina, I need your help to wrangle this woman into wrapping paper.” When Daniel tried to follow, the starlet sent him off with the boys. Being that far away from Trina caused him discomfort, but he obeyed when they promised to make the separation brief.

  Jez’s dress was simple and modest, showing off her legs, but with shoes that covered her toes completely. Jez worried about Benny seeing her ‘deformed’ foot so much that Trina loaned her slippers for later.

  Claudette said, “Hon’, I will bet you a hundred dollars that he never even looks at those slippers tonight.”

  With the delays, celebrating, and photos, they didn’t manage to get back to the room until 1:30 in the morning. Benny stripped down to his boxer shorts and socks while he waited for her to change. While not as sculpted as a body builder, Benny was proud of the muscle definition he had achieved for his aging body. The delay seemed to be taking so long that he picked up the TV remote.

  Her voice came from the bathroom, “Mr. Hollis, are you feeling adventurous?”

  “I don’t know, Mrs. Hollis. I’m pretty exhausted,” he teased. “It would take a lot to inspire me.”

  She sauntered up to him in a thin, gauze wrapping, causing him to drop the remote. “Once I use my line, it’ll take less than a minute.”

  He cracked his neck, and made sparring warm-up motions with his arms. “Okay, hit me with your best shot.”

  From two feet away, his wife wet her lips with her tongue and stared into his eyes. His empathy talent made the base of his skull tingle. With all the sincerity she could muster, she whispered one word. “Yes.”

  A shudder of pleasure went through his body. “Yes, to what?” he gasped.

  “For you, anything.”

  They never made it to the hot tub.

  ****

  At two in the morning, she asked, “Disappointed?”

  He was barely conscious. “No. You were right, best move ever. We can talk more tomorrow.”

  “What makes you think I’m waiting till then? I came here for the tub,” she said, sliding her right hand under the sheet and across his lower body with a purpose.

  “When a guy reaches a certain age…” Instantly, his whole body was awake and rigid with anticipation. “Holy Cow, is that legal? Screw legal. There has to be a commandment against this. How did you get me to…?”

  She grinned, leading him to the water. “I had dancer friends who were pros. Don’t worry; I checked with your church on this already. The marriage bed is sacred. We can do whatever we want and it counts the same as kneeling in the pew.”

  Indeed, her new husband called out to God several times that night.

  Chapter 35 – Finding Nick

  When PJ woke up Saturday morning, he was alone in Amy’s living room. His neck hurt, his hair felt oily, his teeth were scummy, and he had just lost his job. However, he felt strangely buoyant and free. Sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window prompted him to look at his watch: eight o’clock. Someone had put a thin blanket over him during the night. As he folded the blanket, Amy came out of the bedroom, putting on an earring. He admired the way her hair cascaded when she turned her head.

  “Oh, thanks. You didn’t need to,” she said.

  “My mom always told me to be a polite guest if I wanted to be invited back.” His volume level dropped considerably as he thought about the implications of what he was saying. He actually blushed.

  Amy smiled gently and continued as if he hadn’t made any misstep at all. “I’ve put out towels in the bathroom in case you want to freshen up.”

  “Thanks. I could really use that about now.” The Minnie Mouse shower curtain was a pleasant surprise. After he dried and changed into clean clothes from his duffel, PJ opened the door and said, “I like the décor.”

  On the phone, Amy held up a finger to silence him. “By credit card. The number is…” He tuned out politely while she finalized the arrangements. When she hung up, she said, “The flight leaves at ten. We’re going to see Nick. I don’t trust that snake Paulson or his cronies. Here, I made French toast. We have to leave in about fifteen minutes if we want to make it to the airport on time.”

  His mouth watered, so he sat down obediently. That’s when he noticed the neatly folded e-mail by his plate. “How did you manage this?”

  “I figured we’d need proof if Paulson turned on us. So I waited until everyone in the room was concentrating on the Einstein book and slipped the paper into my jacket.”

  “You’re a genius,” PJ told her, putting the paper into his back pocket.

  She sighed. “I know.
Now eat!”

  After a lot of maple syrup and several healthy-sized bites, he said, “Breakfast is great, but aren’t we breaking Paulson’s rule about not interfering?”

  She brought a small, red suitcase out of her bedroom. “I’m not interfering. You’re visiting a sick friend. I’m investigating wetland exploitation. This trip has been on my calendar for months.”

  “For today?”

  Amy raised an eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

  “Guess not. You travel light,” he noted.

  She went into the bedroom a second time. This time she brought out a bulging garment bag. His trip would be a companion ticket purchased with her frequent-flier miles.

  As he was rinsing the plate, she said, “Just put it in the dishwasher.” After a brief pause, she added, “You know, you’re different from most guys. You’re not such a pig.”

  “High praise, indeed. Can I use you as a reference?”

  She appeared to consider this as they grabbed their luggage and headed for the car. As they pulled out, PJ spotted a couple of guys dressed like Mormons who had been watching her place.

  ****

  Half an hour before landing, Amy used the air phone to contact a research assistant in Miami. Her associate had located three potential asylums and had arranged for the senator to fly to Florida instead of Washington. Then she briefed PJ on the game plan. “We’ll rent a car and go straight to the hospital. We have about six hours to find something before the senator arrives.”

  He gathered maps while she signed for the rental car. Unfortunately, that relegated him to the role of navigator and made her the driver. He missed driving. By the time they reached the first destination, PJ felt he’d worn a hole in the carpet trying to step on the passenger-side brakes.

  The closest hospital turned out to be a rehab center for rich people recovering from substance-abuse problems. No Nick there. At the hour-and-a-half mark, they got to the second hospital. PJ waited in the visitors’ room while Amy dealt with the receptionist at the front desk. It was an elite institution that didn’t like uninvited guests.

  While he waited, Amy alternately flattered and bullied doctors. Although, even threats of obstruction of justice and contempt of Congress wouldn’t budge them. PJ got bored with the magazines pretty fast and started wandering around looking at the wall decorations. The establishment believed heavily in the healing power of art therapy. The works of their patients hung from the marble walls in the waiting area and hallways. He looked over a collection of recent works propped against the base of the wall near the men’s room. Someone had left them there momentarily while answering the call of nature. One chalk drawing in particular struck PJ like a physical blow, forcing the air out of his lungs.

  Amy was at the end of her rope.

  “He’s here,” PJ managed to squeak out.

  “The senator?” she asked looking around.

  “Nick!” he hissed. “This drawing is his.”

  He held up a drawing. The center held a giant infinity symbol filled with stars, tinged with blue sparks around the edges. In one corner was a rocket launching, the second a planet, the third had an open book with seals broken along its edge, and the fourth, a sea of red with a smoking, black object in the center.

  While Amy phoned her researcher, PJ brought out the big guns and called Nick’s mother. As the only living relative, she held a great deal of sway over whom the doctors let in. As the wife of a millionaire, she held even more. Since PJ had been Nick’s best friend for the last eight years, the mom demanded that he and his ‘girlfriend’ be allowed access. “Unless you’re mistreating my son in some way and you don’t want anyone to see.”

  The receptionist had them in a pastel room with puffy furniture inside of two minutes.

  “How?” asked Amy, impressed.

  “I’m from Jersey. I’m connected.”

  When Nick came in, PJ barely recognized him. He hadn’t been sleeping or eating well; his eyes were hollow and haunted. He was wearing soft, blue pajamas and appeared heavily sedated. When the interns who transported him left, he stared blankly out the barred window.

  “Nick,” PJ said, trying to get his attention. “The launch went up early. We couldn’t stop it.”

  Nick blinked.

  PJ introduced Amy, but Nick just grabbed her pocket calendar and pen to doodle with.

  Amy said, “We know about the water problem, but the e-mail message was intercepted. They’ve scrubbed Mycroft. What is it they’re hiding? What is it they don’t want us to know?”

  “Chicken Little,” he explained.

  She was taken aback at the free association, but persisted. “Mr. Cassavettis, this is serious. A United States senator is on his way.”

  Nick ignored her and kept drawing.

  PJ intervened. “I talked to your mom. She’s worried about you. Are they treating you okay here?”

  The scientist shrugged. Something about the way he was acting made his friend suspect this was all a show. Amy was busting a gut, so PJ put a finger to his lips. They would play along as much as possible.

  “Your librarian friend Doris told me about your overdue book. I’d be willing to help if you let me know where to find it.”

  Nick didn’t take his eyes off the paper. “Just going to burn. All going to burn.” If he had shouted or raved, the statement wouldn’t have made much of an impact. Instead, he said it the way most people discussed what was going to be on TV next. “T.S. Eliot was wrong.”

  PJ only knew one poem by T.S. Eliot and it said the world would end with a whimper not a bang. He walked the fine line between discretion and the need for clues. “Sometimes it just feels like your world is coming to an end, like what happened with Gloria.”

  “Get away!” Nick ordered as he threw the pocket calendar. As PJ caught it, he glimpsed a message written inside.

  When Amy tried reasoning, Nick raised his voice. “Gloria is a whore, the Whore of Babylon!” As he bellowed, the orderlies rushed in, and PJ pulled Amy away as quickly as possible. He couldn’t wait to get to the parking lot to read that note.

  “Are all your friends this charming?” Amy demanded when we reached the car.

  The programmer had a weak smile on his face. “It was all an act, or most of it. He didn’t want anyone overhearing,” he explained. To her credit, she didn’t complain when he flipped through the pages of her calendar.

  Eventually, he found a crude sketch of a nuclear symbol with a skull inside. Scrawled beneath it were the words ‘Crupkin model.’ He read it like a declaration of proof to Amy.

  “What’s that mean?” she asked.

  “I have no idea, but if it’s anything like the Reuter equations, Crupkin is probably a scientist he wants us to talk to. I’ll lay you odds we can find him with an online, scientific-literature search.”

  Chapter 36 – Warrant

  Jez woke at six Saturday morning with a pain in her foot that warned of rain. She smiled at the exhausted man sprawled on the bed beside her. Putting on her bunny slippers to protect against the cold, tile floor, she went to the bathroom to take some pain pills. She hobbled like an eighty-year-old. To give the medicine time to kick in, she checked her texts.

  Claudette had sent, “Gone to breakfast with Steve.” Smart move taking a guard, she thought. Jez was still paranoid herself. She kept two Tasers within arm’s reach at any given time, one under the bed and one in the emergency bag by the door.

  She snickered at the most recent message from Trina, “UR2 loud!”

  Jez sent back, “YRU up?”

  “We have nightmares,” the young, beauty-pageant winner replied. That was a can of worms they couldn’t discuss on the small screen.

  After grabbing a hotel bathrobe, Jez sent, “Meet IRL.”

  Jez left her own door slightly ajar so it wouldn’t click or beep to wake her sleeping lover. Jez was waiting in the hallway when Trina came out in a Lycra exercise bra and shorts. Today, her color scheme was black with hot-pink racing stripes. Even
this early, she wore her makeup. Sitting on the windowsill, the girl asked, “Why are you still up?”

  Daniel must have been asleep because Jez couldn’t hear the usual mental echo in her words. “I only get an average of four hours most nights,” Jez said, avoiding mention of the pain.

  “You look different today.”

  “I’ve got a boatload of warm fuzzy combined with just a little ‘what the hell did I just do?’ I haven’t even seen his bedroom in the house yet. There could be rock-band posters all over the walls.”

  “Don’t worry; Benny loves you more than Zeppelin—and that’s saying something. We’re happy for you both.”

  “You’re trying to change the subject,” Jez said shaking a finger. “We came out here to talk about nightmares. Are they yours or Daniel’s?”

  “We share. Daniel’s are about losing the use of his legs, seeing you tortured, and Una splattered against a wall. Mine are about rape, what someone sounds like when you shove a screwdriver into their skull, and seeing Una splattered against a wall. We have trouble being this close to her killer.”

  “Claudette? I didn’t realize. How can I…?”

  Trina held up a hand. “You’re not super-mom. You stay awake dealing with enough people’s problems. We’ll work through it on our own. We’re strong. We are we.”

  Jez put an arm around her ex-roommate. The girl continued, “It helps that both of them did it for you. Una could still have killed you, but chose not to. As horrible as it sounds, what Maverick did to Starlet erases a little of my hate for her. One of my sisters died in a similar way. Daniel apologizes for his part in Una’s death every night.”

  After a moment of silence, Jez sighed. “We didn’t use protection last night. I think Benny really wants a family. You girls keep referring to me as a mom, but I don’t know if that will ever happen. The pages are hell on my body, worse than long-distance running on Mount Everest. I was good for the past two weeks—no sneaking calculations—but now my cycle is half the mandatory length for implantation.”