Joy did hear her, her hearing perfectly in tune with the noises around her. The shrill tones were hard to miss. The words hurt a little and then she mentally shrugged it off. What more could she expect from them. She kept walking towards the exit.
Patty’s phone rang as they rushed to keep up with the long strides of the blonde. She had a head start and they worried they would lose her in the parking lot. “Hello?”
“Hey, I’m at the east entrance. Where you gals at?” Stu asked, as he tried to drive and find a parking spot and look around at the same time while he was on his cell. He cursed when a long-legged blonde, who was legally in the cross-walk, caused him to slam on his brakes.
“We’re coming out now. She refused to talk to us,” she complained, still hearing Cece’s mouth going. “Shut up!” she said to the overweight blonde who looked nothing like their little sister.
“What? I didn’t say anything,” Stu protested angrily.
“I was not talking to you, bonehead,” she returned just as angrily. “Cece is here with me.”
“Where’s Joy?”
“She just left. We’re coming out.”
“She just left? What does that mean?”
“Like I said, she refused to talk to us. I see you. That’s Joy going down to that Mercedes sedan, see her?”
Mentally picturing the fourteen-year-old Joy he remembered, he didn’t see anyone but the leggy blonde he had almost hit in the crosswalk. “No, where?”
The two ran up to his van. He’d stopped, forcing cars to drive around him angrily as he looked around. “Right there,” Patty hissed as she pointed at the now leaving Mercedes. “Follow her and see where she goes.”
“Follow her?” he asked dumbly, wondering at her command.
“Yes, stupid. We have to know where she lives!” She turned to Cece, “Let’s get our own cars.”
“I can’t…” Cece gasped, clutching at her side. The race through the mall and now out to Stu’s van had killed her.
“Whatever,” Patty said dismissively. She looked at the confused Stu and said, “GO!” She watched as he sped off after the taillights of the departing Mercedes before she turned to head back into the mall to the other side where her own car was parked. She ignored Cece who turned to go the length of the mall in the other direction.
Stu had to work hard to get his old van to catch up to the powerful Mercedes. It soon went on the freeway south towards downtown. His van didn’t have nearly the horsepower of the expensive foreign import and he worried about it overheating. His slower mind finally caught up to why Patty had ordered him to follow her. He wondered what had happened in the mall and hoped they’d tell him later.
Joy had no idea she was being followed. She had dismissed her sisters as quickly as she would have any other former acquaintance. She did not allow for the slight tremor in her hand as she quickly put her purchases in the trunk. She had wanted to stop at Trader Joe’s, which was outside the mall in a corner of the big parking lot, but now really wanted to get away first. Heading back to the Pfister, she had the valet unpack her trunk as she handed him her keys and headed into the hotel. She never saw the old van drive by slowly, but the valet coughed as the exhaust fumes clogged up the street, the overheated engine working hard since he had to drive so erratically to keep up.
As she entered her room, she tipped the bellboy and closed the door behind him. Looking at her purchases, she quickly unpacked them, looked at them a second time thoughtfully, and packed them into her suitcases. Deciding she would check out tomorrow, she felt this urge to flee. She couldn’t help thinking about her siblings and their attempts to be friendly. She had no interest in it. At one time, she would have welcomed their regard. That had been long ago, but no more. What they had done to her had been unforgiveable and it had taken her years to realize their petty jealousies and imagined slights. She was not stupid, she knew she did not belong in the same family as them. She wondered how her parents would have handled things had they survived. She knew they had indulged and babied her, but she had known they loved her. That had been enough for a long time. She couldn’t fathom the hatred her siblings must have felt to give her to social services when they could have taken her in. She shrugged, that was in the past. She was outside their control and intended to stay that way.
* * * * *
“She’s staying at the Pfister?” Patty gasped as Stu told her where she had gone. Of course she was! With that kind of money, where else would she stay? She could afford to live there! Patty had only been in that luxurious hotel once in her life, for a wedding she couldn’t hope to afford herself. She seethed with unrestrained anger at the unfairness of it all.
“What are we going to do?” Stu asked as they gathered at Randall’s house that evening.
“I think I should pay her a visit,” Randall said pompously.
“What do you think you could say that we didn’t try?” Patty put in, curious what he would say.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure, as the head of this family she will at least listen to me.” He too was thinking back to the fourteen-year-old Joy Parker he had known and intimidated. Seventeen years older than her, he knew things that child couldn’t possibly know.
“I don’t know, Randy. You didn’t see her,” Patty cautioned, glancing at Cece for confirmation.
“Yeah, she’s pretty spiffed up,” Cecelia put in unhelpfully.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Randy asked scathingly.
“She treated us like dirt under her heels.”
Randy looked at the sweats Cece was sporting and could understand why. His look made her flush as she realized what he was thinking.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Ms. Parker, the press is here at the desk asking for an interview,” the concierge phoned up to her room.
“What? What do they want?” She was genuinely puzzled as she finished packing her bags in preparation for checking out. She just had to grab her bathroom things and the phone had rung.
“Apparently, they want to interview you for a news story?” the distaste in his voice was obvious.
“Can you tell them I left or something?” The cord to the phone did not reach the bathroom and she was annoyed, the tone translating into the phone.
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” she answered, hanging it up and mentally telling herself to slip him a tip on her way out. She wondered who had told the press she was here. She had never given an interview about her wealth and did not intend to start now. She had seen those YouTube videos about people suddenly rich from various lotteries and how they had spent their money. There were many foolish people and she was not going to be one of them. An interview would have people contacting her from all over. Fortunately, she had made her escape those many years ago, and she intended to keep it that way.
Her bags packed, she rang down to have them picked up, her car brought around by the valet, and left a tip for the maid. She also made sure to shake the concierge’s hand for getting rid of the press with a twenty-spot in her hand, which he gleefully accepted. She also tipped the bellboys, the valet, and was finally on her way.
She sighed loudly at the early start, even more annoyed to realize that the press had been there. She couldn’t figure out how they had known she was even in town and then she thought of her banker…then again, maybe her family? They did not know where she was staying, so perhaps the press had been tipped off and they simply tried every nice hotel? She did not know, she wouldn’t know, and she slowly drove to one of the shelters. She was puzzled to see no improvement from the times she had stayed there. In fact, they looked older and even more run down. She drove to another one, and then another, looking at some of her papers. None of them showed improvement. She had set up a trust specifically for the development of these shelters and the expansion of the facilities. They were to fix them up and improve the buildings, which were tagged so bad that they looked dilapidated. Nothing looked any different from what she could see. Sh
e drove to the new facilities she had paid for. The first one was a parking lot. She frowned as she checked and then re-checked the address. She drove to another one. It was a basketball court and the kids all looked at the Mercedes with awe and suspicion. She kept her doors locked as she realized the neighborhood she was in. It was then she saw someone she actually knew. He was dressed in a wife beater t-shirt and baggy jeans that showed his boxers. His swagger and attitude were apparent as he walked along, heading for a group of men standing on a corner.
“Hey, T-Ray!” she yelled as she rolled down her window.
The black man looked around at the sound of his name and assessed the Mercedes, pulling down his sunglasses to see if it was one of his regulars. He didn’t recognize the car or the blonde behind the wheel. Pulling up his glasses, he affected to ignore her and began to swagger away.
Joy followed him, annoyed that he did not acknowledge her. “T-Ray, you may not remember me,” she realized as she called to him. It had been a while. “You owe me,” she yelled in frustration. That gave him pause as he stopped his swagger to turn and glare at her through the darkened lenses. “A few years ago, you said that to me,” she continued, her cultured tones giving her no help as he evaluated her disbelievingly, wondering what drugs he had sold her that she would make such an assumption. “No, not like that,” she assured him as his expression changed. “I was a bartender down here and I helped your grandmother. You stopped me and thanked me for that and said you owed me one.” At the short story his eyebrows raised above the black lenses and then he raised them as he eyed her, looking for the trick.
“You that bartender?” he asked. The disbelief was apparent in his tone and body stance. If this was a trick she wouldn’t stand a chance and his hand strayed to the back of his pants, just in case.
“Yeah, I was,” she said, trying to tone down the inflections in her voice that had become so much a part of her over the years.
“They was looking for you for a while,” he said sulkily, as though to test her.
“Yeah, they were. I got away.”
“Yo shore did,” he said, giving a dramatic look at the sedan she was driving. A car came up behind her, then because she had stopped, drove around her, flipping her off. “Hey, I’m talkin’ here,” T-Ray yelled at whoever was behind the wheel. He turned back to Joy, coming closer in the street to talk to her and look her over. She was one fine piece he decided, not recognizing her in the least. However, he did remember the incident and the promise. “What ya want?” he asked bluntly.
“I was wondering what happened to the shelter that was supposed to be built over there?” she indicated with her chin where she had just come from.
“Shelter?” he scoffed. “There ain’t no shelter ‘round here.”
“No promise of jobs or anything?”
He snickered at her ignorance. “Naw, why would they do that?”
Well, probably because she had paid for it? she thought angrily, but did not voice it. “I’d heard…” she shortened her response, knowing he would understand her better.
“I heard a few things too…like you moved away,” his glance took in the fine sedan she was driving, wondering if he could take it from her and then wondering if his promise was about to be called in.
“Yeah, I had no choice…someone was huntin’ me,” she returned, seeing his glance since his glasses were tilted so he could look at her with his dark eyes.
“Yeah, me too,” he laughed.
Joy smiled at the joke he had made. She understood, she really did. Still, it did not make sense that the buildings that were supposed to be built to provide jobs to the locals had not been built, but still she had paid for them. Where the hell had the money gone? “You gotta number I can get hold of you if I want?” she suddenly asked him.
“Why’d you want that?” he sounded suspicious.
“What if I wanna collect on your promise?”
He hesitated long enough that she was sure she had somehow offended him. That had not been her intention and suddenly she was feeling uneasy. She saw the group of men at the corner start to head for them, probably out of curiosity, but for all she knew, he might have signaled them. “Or don’t you think that promise is good anymore?” she pricked his pride.
He flushed, but only because he was close enough for her to observe did she actually see that her barb had hit home. “It’s good,” he acknowledged, nodding ruefully.
“Is your grandmother still alive?” she asked courteously. The manners she had been taught still there despite trying to talk like she used to.
He nodded. “She can’t get around like she used to, but she still kickin’.”
“You tell her I say hi. She probably don’ remember me,” she added, sounding like the Joy of old. She certainly did not look like her.
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” he answered politely, wondering what she was doing here in the expensive ride. He wondered if she was going to ask him for the favor he owed her and what it was gonna be.
“You gonna give me yer digits?” she asked, staying with the slang that seemed to keep him calm.
T-Ray considered a moment, seeing his boys heading this way, and reached into pants pocket to flip out a business card. “You want somethin’, anythin’,” he leered, “you call me.” He put enough insinuation into his comment as she took the card, that Joy would have to be really stupid not to understand. She glanced at the other men coming up and realized it was all for show. She could flatter him too.
“I will do that,” she said in a husky emotion-filled voice and smiled a dazzling smile she had practiced many times in the mirrors back in Château Mont-Choisi. She could see the immediate results on the stunned onlookers. “Take care,” she said as she drove on, glancing back to see all the guys slapping T-Ray on the back and giving fist bumps and high fives. She laughed, realizing she had been frightened for a moment there.
Joy made her way to the airport after looking at each of the sites one last time before heading down to Chicago. She had plenty of time to muse over everything that had gone on back in Milwaukee. The bank, shopping, her sisters, the press, and then the shelters she had sponsored. All of it had been slightly disappointing and she had not expected that. She was good with her money, invested carefully and wisely, and she hated waste and now, apparent theft. She was angry and as she returned her car, the attendant tried to charge her for ‘cleaning’ the luxury sports sedan. She gave him a verbal ear-boxing and he backed down. In fact, he credited her for half of the rental as an apology for bad customer service. This appeased her as she went inside and booked a flight that would eventually take her to San Antonio.
Upon arrival, Joy checked into the Hilton, not even thinking that she had been there before. It had been seven years after all and she was only looking for a nice, clean room where she could put her feet up and sleep for the night before she called her lawyers, her investment broker, and she was not sure who else. She had had a lot of time to think on the flights down here and wondered why the hell she had chosen San Antonio in the first place. Then she remembered that course she had taken so long ago. It had not been adequate for what she had needed, she saw that now, however, she had taken it and it had started her on the path that led to both Château Mont-Choisi and the Institut Château Beau-Cedre, as well as the many contacts she had made at both schools. She sighed as they took her information, looking at both her passport and driver’s license.
“Yeah, I know. I no longer look like either,” she smiled, which really made a difference from the Joy pictured on both. She hoped the new passport photo she had taken meant the paperwork she had filled out would be rushed. Passports were good for ten years and hers was not even seven years old. She would discuss that when she saw her lawyers.
“You said you’ve stayed here before?” the clerk said cautiously as he typed her into the system.
“Yes, but that was seven years ago. I’m sure your system doesn’t have me in there anymore.”
“Do you know how
many nights you wish to stay?”
“Let’s start with three and if I need more, I will let you know,” she said politely, again smiling for effect and dazzling him.
He agreed and checked her in. The credit card went through with no problem when he charged it.
Soon the bellhop was taking her bags to her room. She tipped him, locking the door behind him as she began to strip and head for the shower. It had been a long day and she was tired of thinking.
* * * * *
“What do you mean she’s left?” Randy raged at the private investigator he had shelled out so much money for, in advance this time.
“Exactly that. She checked out of the Pfister the next day after your sisters met with her in the mall. That was probably why,” he added, sounding disgusted at the way it had been handled. “You need to approach this differently,” he advised, but they hadn’t listened to him before, why would they now. It was why he had told them they had to pay in advance. “I found where she flew out of Chicago, heading for San Antonio.”
“What the hell is in San Antonio? She doesn’t know anyone there!” he fumed, remembering the fourteen-year old girl she had been and making assumptions.
“Her lawyer is there, remember?” Cecelia reminded him. She was amused at the way they were acting. They had been so sure this time they would get their hands on some of Joy’s money, all because she had actually been seen.
“Yeah, and that damn will,” Stu mentioned.
“We don’t know what the final will states,” Randy pointed out, almost trying to convince himself instead of his audience.
“Do you want me to look into that further?” the P.I. asked, hoping for more work.
“No, I’ll do it,” Randy dismissed him and then turned to his siblings. “What did you say to her?” he sounded accusing as he faced the girls.
“We already told you. She didn’t want anything to do with us,” Cece bravely faced him.
“Then you said something to piss her off. Why wouldn’t she want to see us…her family?” he genuinely didn’t understand.
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