by PJ Fernor
Years Ago
He feels he’s earned tonight. It’s been a long road of research and planning. Nothing in life is easy and nothing will ever come easy. Everything requires a good work ethic.
That was a lesson he learned at a young age, and it stuck with him, which was now the only reason he was still alive.
Sitting at the blackjack table in the dim lights of what was surely an illegal gambling operation, he reaches for his glass of scotch and drinks it.
There’s no air conditioning in the warehouse type building, so not only is he sweating, his drink has been dulled down thanks to the ice melting.
He wants to complain.
About the lack of cool air. About the watered-down free drink.
About everything in his life that has led him to this exact point.
He takes a deep breath and looks into the eyes of the dealer.
It’s an older gentleman with reptilian-like features. Snake eyes. Scaly skin. A very odd shaped and large forehead that almost looks like a spotted dinosaur egg. The kind of man that comes with a million stories and ends with a no shock ending as to how and why he ended up here.
“You need to make a decision,” the dealer says in a rough voice.
He looks down at the cards in front of him.
It’s a fifteen.
Well, not a single card, no. No card equals fifteen.
But it’s a jack of hearts and a five of spades.
“Hit me,” he says.
The dealer moves fast, throwing down a king of clubs.
“Bust,” the dealer says.
The dealer’s hands move fast, clearing the table of cards and chips.
“Again?” the dealer asks.
“Of course,” he says.
He looks around.
There’s still a little time.
Before the night gets really hectic.
He knows what’s happening. Of course he does.
He’s the one who researched the girl, tracked her down, followed her, and came up with the plan.
He’s the one who put her in the trunk of his car.
There was no other choice.
So if she dies…
Oh well.
He showed up on time.
The other member of this event did not.
The dealer deals the cards.
“Another fifteen,” he whispers.
The dealer is showing fourteen.
He sucks in a breath.
“He’ll take a hit,” a voice says from behind him.
Every muscle in his body tightens.
There’s a lot of names going through his head right now.
Because he’s heard a lot names used for who is behind him.
Before he turns, the dealer flips a card.
“Six,” the dealer says. “Blackjack.”
A hand reaches down to the table and the one who runs the entire illegal gambling ring takes the chips.
“You don’t mind, do you?” the one asks.
“No,” he says. “Not at all.”
“You’re broke again, aren’t you? Gambling everything away and then some. How much are you in the hole tonight?”
“Not much,” he says.
“Tell me a number.”
“Two.”
“Hundred?”
“Thousand.”
He can feel the anger from the one.
“Walk with me,” the one says.
He stands up and the dealer frowns.
Everyone knows what the one is capable of.
He walks out of the warehouse to a cool night. The sweat all over his body makes his clothes cling to his skin.
“Did you do what I said?” the one asks.
“Of course.”
“Show me.”
They walk to his car.
“I had to put her in the trunk,” he says. “To be safe. I wish I had a bigger vehicle. Maybe I’m not the guy you’re looking for.”
“If you’re not the guy I’m looking for, then I’m going to kill you. Still think you’re not the one I’m looking for?”
He doesn’t answer.
He opens the trunk.
There she is.
Her eyes wide open, arms and legs thrashing.
He sighs with relief that she’s alive.
“Okay,” the one says. “Okay. I think we have something here. Let’s do it again. Then we can expand.”
“Expand?” he asks.
Instantly, there’s a horrible pain where the sides of his body meet his back.
His legs give out and he’s on the ground.
That’s when he realizes two bodyguards are standing there.
Their brick like fists did their job, leaving him with the feeling that he’s going to be urinating blood for a little while.
“Don’t question me,” the one says. “Ever. You’re far from surviving any of this. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he says.
“Remember what I told you?”
“Yes,” he says again, pain surging through his body.
“Then say it to me.”
He looks at the one. He knows better than to make the one ask again.
He takes a breath.
“We’re all yours…”
Chapter Thirty-Six
The Other Place
N and J finally stopped crying.
They had gotten close to the point where Mr. G would have snapped but sleep took them and their new reality was becoming… real.
Lea checks on them every few hours, just to make sure they are okay.
There really is no okay here other than being alive.
There’s a new problem today.
A big one.
Lea has done something very dumb.
She was this close to getting caught outside the house.
All those years of trust with Mr. G and it could have gone poof.
Even if Lea told him what had happened - honesty is the best policy - he would kill her in a heartbeat. He would smile, touch her face, reassure her things were okay. He would thank her for being honest. But within a day, she’d be dead.
That wasn’t a surprise, nor a shock.
Plus, it was a fair punishment for leaving the house.
Lea knew she had gotten risky and stupid.
All for… what?
She stands in the bedroom and looks at herself in the mirror.
Her shirt is extra dirty because of that basement floor.
It had been a house but not the right house.
Which Lea knew. She just needed to rest for a second.
She did not plan on falling asleep.
And getting caught…
“Almost caught,” she corrects herself.
She has to get out of the shirt she’s wearing.
For her, that’s simple.
She has clothes here.
Mr. G gives her clothes.
Not fancy clothes like movie stars wear, but it’s better than what Hailey, N, and J have to wear.
She gets changed and tells herself to forget about it.
Nothing’s going to happen.
The woman who saw her… who cares, right?
Even if the woman had managed to describe Lea perfectly nobody would find her.
Everything’s perfect.
Nothing to worry about.
Lea opens the bedroom door and Mr. G stands there.
Smiling down at her.
She almost lets out a scream.
“You scared me,” she says.
“That’s okay,” he says. “We’re going to go for a drive.”
Lea’s heart sinks. “What?”
“I want to show you something.”
“Are you sure that’s safe? I never leave here. Unless…”
Mr. G shakes his head. “This is just for us, Lea. A little excursion.”
“What about the girls?”
“They’re fine,” he says. “Unless you feel something could go wrong.”
“No,�
�� Lea says. “They’re okay. Are you going to name the new ones?”
“Soon,” Mr. G says. He smiles. “I appreciate how much you care about my work.”
Mr. G puts his arm around Lea.
She shuts her eyes and smiles.
There are small, tender moments when things really are okay.
Mr. G is the only father figure she’s ever had in life. And nobody in life is perfect. Everyone has a good side, a bad side, and plenty of flaws. That’s what made people who they were. Some better than others. Some worse than others.
Lea knows she’s not perfect.
At all.
And maybe Mr. G knows what she did and…
“Lea,” Mr. G says. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she says. “Fine. Just a little tired.”
“Well, then here’s our plan. We’re going to take a little drive. And when we get back, you make yourself some of that soup you like so much. Sound good? Make some soup and get some rest. I can take care of the girls.”
Lea nods.
She doesn’t like that part.
Mr. G mostly knows what to do but there are things the girls appreciate more from Lea.
Of course, she doesn’t say this.
She keeps her mouth shut and follows Mr. G through the house and outside to his all black vehicle. There are different vehicles he drives depending on the task at hand. In this case, when she sees the car, Lea sighs with relief.
Nothing bad is going to happen.
Hopefully.
Mr. G doesn’t play the radio.
He doesn’t like music.
So they are in silence.
Mr. G enjoys silence to think.
Lea tries to write songs in her head based on objects she sees.
She’s having a hard time rhyming a word with pumpkin.
Pumpkin…
Thump…kin? Tuck in?
I went to bed with my favorite pumpkin.
I put it on the nightstand and then grabbed my blankets for a tuck in.
Lea smiles.
That’s just plain silly.
She loses track of time, which to her is the greatest gift anyone could have.
Mr. G brings her right back to normal though.
“Here it is,” he says. “What I wanted to show you.”
Lea straightens her back.
“This is where the lines seem to cross, Lea,” Mr. G whispers. “See all these souls out, wandering around?”
Lea takes it all in.
She knows this place.
Mr. G has brought her here before.
The underpass of a big bridge.
It’s sometimes crowded with people.
Most of them women. Young women. Even girls.
“They’re all free,” he says. “But they know they can’t leave. How interesting is that. No need for a cage. Or a locked door. Just the power of fear…”
The car windows are heavily tinted, meaning Lea can see them but they can’t see her.
As the car slows, two young women approach the window.
Lea puts her hand to the window.
The one young woman looks cold. She’s hugging herself, shivering.
The other has a big smile and looks excited.
Mr. G starts to drive faster.
As he speeds away, one of the young women yells a curse word at the car.
“That’s okay, Lea,” he whispers. “Their time will come.”
Lea nods.
She wants to go home. And eat her favorite soup with the vegetables and the tiny meatballs. She wants to find a television show to watch, if Mr. G will allow it. She wants to sleep.
There are only two reasons he brings her down to that underpass.
Either as a threat of what Lea could be living through - or because he’s planning on filling more cages.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
It was terribly hard to slow down time when there was so much happening at once.
My mind caught itself in a sense of overdrive, and I knew there was no chance of escaping it. At least not until I knew everything that was happening with Nikki’s murder. This wasn’t just a murder. There was a much bigger story behind it. Sometimes it was like picking weeds in a garden. You could grab the weed and break it off and everything looks good. But the roots were deep in the ground. And until you got the roots, the same weed would keep coming back.
Nikki’s murder was not the whole story.
It was her story. Her tragic ending.
For the overall story, Nikki was merely a chapter in a bigger book.
And I needed to do some heavy reading.
I hadn’t slept much the night before. Too much thinking. And not just about the case either.
As I worked my way to the kitchen, I was surprised to find Lo already pouring coffee.
She looked at me and I knew I wasn’t the only one with guy problems.
Guy problems. Talking to my niece about guys. Where did time go that this was happening? We used to watch cartoons together and eat animal crackers. But only the ones with the frosting because the others were boring.
“Morning, Lo,” I said.
“Hey.”
“Hey?”
“Sorry. I’ve been up for a while.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m trying to think of all the options.”
“About?”
“Trevor.”
I nodded and reached for the coffee she poured me. “I’m so sorry, Lo.”
“I was texting Steph and she’s right.”
“About?” I asked again. It was the best question I could offer to keep getting a response from her.
“I have to face it,” she said. “I’m not going to think he’s guilty. I’m not going to avoid him. I mean, I respect you saying I can’t see him. But I’m not going to stop texting or anything. But somewhere in my mind I guess I should think about it.”
“Oh, Lo,” I said. My throat felt tight. I felt for her. “I wish…” I cleared my throat. “You know, when you were little and you’d fall and hit your knee, I could get you a piece of ice for it. Or I could pretend to hit my head on something to get you to laugh. Or I could find some sugar to cheer you up. I miss those days.”
“I still like sugar,” Lo said with a smile.
I laughed. “You’ll appreciate it more as you get older.”
“That, and maybe wine? Or something else?”
“No,” I said. “You’re never allowed to drink anything. Ever. Got it?”
“Got it,” Lo said.
“I don’t know what to say about Trevor,” I said. “It’s a tough situation. I have a foot in both places, Lo. And I’m going to do my job and find the truth. That’s the best I can do.”
“I know that,” Lo said.
“That means I have to get going. I don’t want to cut you short. I’ll gladly stay and talk all morning. Or we can chat later.”
“I’m fine,” Lo said. “I’m sorry if I was upset with you before.”
“Don’t be,” I said. “You focus on yourself. Focus on school. Focus on Steph. She’s a good friend to have right now.”
“She really is,” Lo said. “And you too. I mean, you’re not my friend, but, you know…”
“Lo,” I said. “I love you too.”
I transferred my coffee to my travel cup and hurried out of the apartment to get to the station.
I thought about Lo as I started to drive. My mind slowly transferred over to the case the closer I got to the station. Sometimes I wished I had two brains. One to raise Lo with. Another to solve cases with.
As I walked toward my office, I saw movement from the corner of my eye.
It was Muldavey.
“I have something to tell you,” he called out as he ran toward me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Annie is dead.”
“Who?”
“Annie,” he said. “The woman who called…”
“Oh, right,” I said. “Wait. She’s dea
d?”
“Just got the call a little while ago.”
I looked around. “Come into my office.”
We hurried together and I shut the door after I let Muldavey into the office first.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Possibly heart attack,” he said. “Or overdose.”
“How…”
“She had her medications next to her on the bed,” Muldavey said. “But then again, you saw her. I’m not one to judge a person and how they live, but she was a ticking time bomb.”
“That she was,” I said. “But we just talked to her. She just…”
“My guess is the stress of it all,” Muldavey said. “Think about what her body lived through on a daily basis. And then she finds someone in her basement. She has the police there. Detectives going through her house and yard. That’s a hectic day. Maybe it all caught up to her.”
“Maybe it wasn’t that at all,” I said.
I looked at Ben’s office and he wasn’t there.
“Who found her?” I asked.
“Medical supply company worker,” Muldavey said. “He said he just got a bad vibe. The front door was open. Nobody was answering. He feared the worst. Again…”
“I get it,” I said. “She was morbidly obese, with an oxygen tank, and still smoked cigarettes.”
“Sorry,” Muldavey said. “He found her in her bed. Gone. He called 9-1-1.”
“I need everything else, Muldavey,” I said. “I need to know who was there, what paperwork was filled out, whatever else you can find. I understand the way it looks on the surface, but I don’t trust anything right now.”
“Of course,” he said. “That’s why I wanted to tell you about it.”
“I appreciate it. Always keep your eyes open.”
I nodded to the door.
Muldavey left in a hurry.
I walked around the desk and sat down.
I sipped my coffee and nodded with surprise.
Lo really knew how to make coffee.
I looked at Ben’s office again.
I told myself not to think about him and Sandra waking up together, smiling, sharing tender moments before life got crazy. And to not think about me waking up alone after a night of tossing and turning…
My phone rang.
I needed the call.
I needed the distraction.
“Johnny Barby,” I said.
“Allie Down,” he said. “How are you this morning?”
