by Jonas Saul
Deborah laughed and slapped her knee. “You see, this is why we’re finished.”
“Make sense, woman.” He spread his arms out, almost spilling his wine. “Are you that drunk that you can’t even talk straight to me?”
Her face darkened. She glared at him. “You want sense? Is that what you want?” She placed her wine glass on the wooden floor of the deck and stood. “You were the last one to see Maxine Freeman alive. You will have questions to answer regarding that. And this thing you’re doing with Castanet, the girl’s photo you circulated. Embarrassed much?” She slapped her hands together. “She lives next door. When everyone finds out you’re looking for your neighbor and you didn’t even know it, boy, talk about egg on your face—”
He shoved her. He couldn’t listen to her condescending tone anymore. Or her disrespect. She had so much to learn and this wasn’t the way the lesson was supposed to go.
Debbie fell backwards into her chair. Her sunglasses popped back and fell off her head. She squinted at him.
“What the hell was that for?” she asked.
But he didn’t answer right away.
Next door neighbor? What was she talking about?
“Just shut up and tell me more about this neighbor.”
“Joan and Mike flew in to rent the place for a few more months. Luckily for them they found a tenant. A writer. Her name is Sarah. I forget the last name. Haven’t seen her since she moved in. Oh, I forgot, you’re too busy to even notice me. Then I see her picture blasted in the paper today.”
“What kind of vehicle does she have?”
“A motorcycle. I don’t know much about vehicles but I took a double take of this one because BMW makes it. I had no idea before two days ago that BMW even makes motorcycles.”
He leaned down close to her face, his hands on the arm rests of her chair. “And why am I only hearing of this now?”
“You’re kidding, right? Every time someone moves in or out of a house on this street you need to be informed? Oh, right, you’re king shit. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
He slapped her face, careful to make sure he hit last night’s wounded cheek. Better to double the pain than give her a new mark. But then he got carried away, and as she cried out, he slapped her back and forth until she hid her face in her lap, screaming hysterically.
He pulled up, breathing frantically. His hair fell in his eyes. He brushed it back, drank the rest of his wine and waited until she got better control of herself.
After what felt like a full minute, she raised her head. Both cheeks were a deep red with last night’s wound bleeding again.
“You asshole,” she breathed through her teeth.
“And then some. Disrespect me again and I will fucking kill you and bury you in the bushes, but I’ll do a better job than the amateurs who killed Maxine. I’ll make sure your body is found by coyotes. They’ll lick your bones clean.”
She backhanded tears as they slipped from her eyes. “What happened to us?”
“Nothing. We’re roommates now. I live my life and you have a nice home, all the food you want, and enough money in your monthly budget that a certified electrician would kill to make. All you have to do is join me at police events and make your public appearances seem normal.” He pushed his thumb and index finger together. “A little task for a big return. What happened to us is your greed. You always want more and now that we’re deep, you want to cut and run. Well, fuck that. We’re not going anywhere and neither are you. Understood?”
Debbie looked out at the water. “Fair enough. We’ll do it your way. We won’t run. Everything will work out. I’ll be quiet and obey. It’ll go back to the way it was before Lesley tried to off herself. But don’t hurt that girl next door. She’s sweet and innocent. Leave her out of this.”
“You’re kidding now, aren’t you?”
“What do you want her for, anyway? What has she done?”
He ignored her question. “Just know this. I’m done with things going wrong. I’m done with worrying about people who have big mouths. It’s time to get stronger.” He pointed a finger in her face. “Go back to normal. Act normal. Drink all you want. Kill yourself. I don’t fucking care. But never,” he shouted the last word, “ever, disrespect me again or plot against me. I will kill you and bury you in this house if I see even the slightest bullshit from you. Understand?”
He caught what he thought was the edge of a smile on her face. He was about to respond when she lowered her head.
“I understand and I’m sorry. This isn’t the right time to add to your stress.” She fiddled with her shirt, picking a piece of lint off it. “I deserved last night’s punch and today’s slaps. I’ve been out of line and it won’t happen again. We’re in this together, thick and thin.”
This surprised him, but he was suddenly very happy with her.
“Good. I’m glad you see it my way.” He headed for the door. “I have to get back on the road. Business to attend to.”
“Aren’t you going next door to talk to Sarah or take her in?”
“She’s not there,” he said, half in the house, half on the deck.
“How do you know that?”
“She’s in a ditch off Sexsmith Road. Bad accident.” He looked down at his feet as if he was upset. “She took a spill on one of those corners, rolled down the embankment and smacked a tree with her head.” He met Debbie’s eyes. “When I last saw her, she wasn’t moving.” He shrugged. “Looks like she won’t be a problem anymore.”
He stepped inside the house before Debbie could say anything.
What a victory today had started with. That meddling girl, Sarah, had been taken out. His wife had agreed to his terms, and now he was heading to the Garden of Eden to help Lesley with her suicide bid.
But first, Lesley was going to give him a going away present.
Since Lesley wouldn’t have any more customers today, or ever, he didn’t need a condom. Unprotected sex with the drugged whores when they were too high to even know what was happening to them was his favorite. They all figured it out eventually, but he was a cop. Who were they going to tell? His friends? Before long, they needed more smack and he was the only source of heroin at the Garden of Eden.
In a few hours, Lesley was going to be so high she would never know the horrific violations he was going to do because she would never wake up.
When they find her body and toxicology reports confirmed the overdose, the only issue will be his semen, but since he isn’t a registered sex offender, he was safe. If it ever came back to him, it wouldn’t matter. He owned the place and slept with all the girls. It was part of their job description.
He was the one who would either investigate her death or be consulted on it. She was a sex worker after all. Nobody was going to look too hard for a murderer when Lesley had tried to kill herself two days before. She came to work, had sex with multiple men and then overdosed. That will be the story.
He stepped out onto the front lawn, made his way to the car and said out loud for the benefit of the trees and the birds flitting around in their branches, “What a glorious day. It’s shaping up to be a killer of a day.”
Then he got in his car and headed to the Garden with a plan to drive by Sarah’s accident location.
He wanted to take a peek at the rescue attempt.
If there was one.
Chapter 12
Greg Wright entered the Garden of Eden Massage Parlor faster than he intended. The door banged against the wall, startling the two girls sitting on the couch.
“Can we help you?” the tall one asked as she got to her feet.
It was hard for Greg to take these girls seriously dressed in evening wear. The girl who stayed on the couch wore a bra, two sizes too small. Her nipples peeked over the edge of the white lace.
“Where’s Lesley?”
“Who?”
“I mean, Porsche.” He always forgot to call his sister by her stage name, or whatever they called it.
“Oh, Porsche i
s in with a client.” She walked behind the little counter where a day timer sat open under a tiny lamp. “Would you like to book an appointment?”
Two days ago, Lesley almost killed herself because she couldn’t escape this life or her fear of Barry Ashford. But because of that fear, she was back, taking customers and reliving the horror that almost killed her. Greg wanted to burn the entire building to the ground. This woman asking if he wanted an appointment with his sister made it even worse.
“I do not want an appointment.” He tried to stay in control. Every second his sister was in the other room was another second he had lost her.
The girl on the couch got up and rummaged in her purse for something.
“Stop the appointment and ask Porsche to come out here. I’m taking her home.”
“And you are?” the tall one asked.
The girl with the half-exposed nipples finished rummaging in her purse and stood beside him.
“I’m her brother and her name is Lesley, not Porsche.”
The girls exchanged a look.
“Go get her,” Greg ordered.
A door opened to the right. A tall man, well built with thick arms, stepped out of a bathroom.
“There a problem here, ladies?” he asked.
Security.
“No, no problem,” Greg said, his anger quelling any intimidation. “I’m just here to pick up my sister. Once she’s in my car, I will leave peacefully.”
The brick house of a man moved closer and looked down his nose at Greg. He had to be at least six-foot-seven, maybe taller.
“What if she isn’t in your car when you leave?” He shrugged. “What then?”
Anger made men stupid. Greg knew it, but didn’t listen to the little man with a halo, dressed in white, perched on his shoulder, telling him to back up, come at this a different way. Instead, he moved closer to the man in front of him.
“If she isn’t removed from her appointment and brought out to my car, I will burn this fucking place down and I will make sure you’re still in it.” He stepped even closer, his nose almost touching the man’s nose. “Back up out of my face.”
“Or what?”
Greg was tired of the pissing contest. His knee came up so fast and hard no one saw it in time. The air wheezed out of the security man’s lungs as his eyes widened. He dropped to his knees, holding his crotch with both hands. As tall as he was, even at this angle, Greg was still nose to nose with him, although Greg was a little higher now.
He brought his knee up again, connecting with the man’s chin. When he fell over, it rattled the floor.
When Greg turned to ask the tall whore to go and fetch his sister, the one with the exposed nipples had a small canister in her hand.
Liquid shot out of it, heading straight for Greg’s face from six feet away. He ducked and spun on his heels as fast as he could. The contents of the canister hit the back of his head as the girl screamed and unleashed another torrent of spray.
He would be blinded and hacking out a lung if he didn’t get away from her. The only way out was the front door which was right in front of him.
He smacked into the door, ramming it open to get outside. As soon as the afternoon sun hit him, he ran for the end of the parking lot, where he crossed the street and headed to his car a block down.
He would come back in an hour and when he did, no one would stop him from taking Lesley.
No one at all because he would come with a gun.
He would be more prepared the next time.
Chapter 13
Sarah’s eyes fluttered open. She gasped, took a deep breath and rolled away from the tree. She spread out on the carpet of pine needles, making sure nothing was damaged or broken. She had no way of knowing how long she had been out.
She pulled off her helmet and let it roll away. If it hadn’t been for the helmet she would probably have a dented head.
A car approached on the road, passed her location and faded away. At the top edge of the hill where the grass stopped and the road began, a sign with an arrow warned drivers of the turn ahead. Since no emergency vehicles were in sight, she assumed no one had seen the accident. She assumed Barry didn’t call it in.
That meant Barry had forced her off the road and then left without checking on her. He had meant to kill her. He must feel invincible. If Barry thought nothing could touch him, he had another thing coming.
Still looking skyward, she eased her phone out of her pocket, hoping it hadn’t broken. Two in the afternoon. She had just over an hour to get to the Garden of Eden parlor for 3:17 p.m.
She brought the GPS tracker up on the screen. Barry’s car was coming along McKinley Road, heading toward Glenmore, five minutes away.
After a couple of deep breaths, Sarah sat up, then got to her feet. No pain anywhere. Not even her head where she had sustained a bullet wound only a few months ago.
The road had to be at least twenty feet away, up a forty-five degree embankment. The front wheel of her bike was twisted at an odd angle. She wasn’t about to try to push it up the hill and drive it.
But how did she fly off the road and land down here with nothing even aching? It had to be Vivian. She knocked Sarah out like she had done before because a limp body—like extremely drunk—could fall from a five-story window of an apartment building, get up and walk away. Vivian had to have been involved.
She looked skyward again and blew a kiss into the air.
“I love you, Sis.”
Sarah climbed, leaving the bike and helmet behind. At the road’s edge, she ran toward the houses about five hundred yards down.
The tracker said that Barry’s car was on Glenmore now and heading toward Union. He was three minutes away.
She picked up her speed. She had to meet him when she was ready and as soon as she got the Jeep at Enterprise she would go to the hardware store and be ready for the next time she saw Barry, which she suspected would be at 3:17 p.m.
Barry had turned onto Union. He would come into view in less than a minute. That wasn’t enough time to reach the shelter of the houses.
Since she had started for the row of buildings along this road, not a single car had passed. On the other side of the road, just past the gravel shoulder, it dropped off, similar to where she had left her bike.
It was her only chance.
She ran across and jumped over the edge. It was steeper here. She slid to the bottom on her butt, then got to her feet. The ground leveled out fifteen feet below the edge of the road. A cover of pine trees hid her from view.
Just as she leaned on one of the trees to catch her breath, she heard his car. The tracker on her cell phone showed Barry’s location as almost right on top of her. From where she stood, back from the road, she had a clear view of the area where he had forced her into the ditch. Barry’s car stopped there. He got out and walked to the edge of the shoulder to look down at Sarah’s bike. Seeing she wasn’t there, he scanned along the road both ways and scratched his head.
He grabbed for something in his jacket. A cell phone. He held it in front of him to see who was calling, and then tapped a button.
He talked for a minute. His body language conveyed frustration and anger as he waved his free hand back and forth. He shouted something into the phone, ran around the car and hopped in. A moment later he squealed the tires as he took off.
She edged back behind the tree as he passed her location, even though it would be hard for him to see her from the road while inside his car.
When the sound of his engine faded in the distance, she crawled back up to the road and continued toward the houses.
At the first one, she called Enterprise back on her cell phone.
“You still have that Jeep on hold for me?” she asked.
“Is this Sarah?”
“Yes.”
“It’s here.”
“Would 3124 Sexsmith Road be inside your pickup zone?”
“Let me check.” There was a moment of silence when she was put on hold. The
afternoon sun beat down on her relentlessly. She wiped the sweat from her brow and remembered that she’d left the ball cap with the bike. “Sure, we’ll come pick you up there. I’ll leave right now.”
“Great. See you soon.” She ended the call and started back for her bike.
She needed the ball cap and she needed to have her hair tied up under it.
With her face all over the news and every cop in Kelowna looking for her, she needed to stay hidden in plain sight.
