by A. Gomez
We stood there for a moment in silence, admiring the print. Painting?
“I really like it, Isabel. The lady in the picture looks pretty just like you. I also like how the colors are so pretty and happy,” Betty commented. I nodded, slightly grinning.
“Please, tell me your thoughts, Dr. Langley. You’re so quiet.”
I tilted my head to one side and opened my mouth to speak when Debbie rushed in.
“Isabel!” she yelled, out of breath.
Chang, Betty and I spun, eyeing her. She stopped in her tracks and looked contrite. “I lost… I mean I couldn’t find…” She was at a loss for words.
Chang, impassive as ever, just looked at her for the longest few seconds before he decided to speak. “It’s fine, Debbie, I’ll handle it from here.”
“But I haven’t finished showing them what they need to do,” she said, sounding affronted and annoyed. I didn’t want any problems, especially for Betty’s sake so Betty and I started to head out with Debbie.
“You can show them later,” he snapped. “Dr. Langley and her young friend are here with me at the moment.” I froze. Betty and I looked at each other, bewildered at what he could want with both of us. I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned around. And with that, Debbie left us.
“Please, you were about to tell me your thoughts before we were so rudely interrupted.”
Betty and I glanced at each other one more time before we walked back in front of the painting. “Well, I was just thinking how this piece is not really modern art yet you have it here among a collection of modern art. It’s as if you purposefully did it this way. This room is not just filled with modern art—sculptures, paintings and prints, but the décor in the room is also very modern. This desk, for instance. Its lines are sleek and straight yet at the corners and its edges soft and curved. The legs are jagged, angling in and out as if an artist was trying to sculpt something out of them but then decided not to. Its color is not just white but it’s more of a mother-of-pearl white. When the sun hits it just right it gives off a slightly different tone or hue. It is a work of art all on its own. It’s as if this room is a piece of art and this Andy Warhol is your focal point. My eye went straight to it. In fact, it almost speaks to me.” I paused for a moment, gazing at the Andy Warhol. “I’ve never really liked Andy Warhol but there’s just something about this one.”
I glanced at Chang who was grinning from ear to ear. “Dr. Langley, you surprise me yet again. I acquired this Andy Warhol many years ago and this room just sort of happened around it. I never really thought of my office in the way you just described it but now that you’ve said it, you are absolutely spot on,” he chirped with his Chinese accent. “I didn’t want any other piece in here eclipsing it so I suppose I did do this on purpose.” He chuckled.
I forced a giggle, eyeing his computer. “In fact, your desk is such a magnificent piece I wouldn’t put anything on it except a vase of flowers.”
He eyed me, surprised. Was he surprised at my comment? Was I being too forward? Perhaps he was surprised that he never thought of it that way? Either way, I hoped I didn’t overstep make him lose his temper.
“Dr. Langley, I would like you to have lunch with me today,” he said flatly. What? I blinked at him, completely stunned. Shit! Why? Just me? I turned my head slightly, gazing down at Betty out of the corner of my eye.
“Do not be concerned for Betty Lou, Dr. Langley. She will be safe. You have my word.”
“What about my… er… our chores and whatever else Debbie needs us to do today?” I asked, thoroughly confused by his invitation.
“Lunch is at noon. You have all morning to finish and if you don’t finish then you can finish after lunch.”
I nodded, not knowing what to say. My stomach was all of a sudden in knots. I didn’t want to leave Betty alone and I couldn’t say no thank you. He could get offended, blow up, and Betty could end up getting hurt or worse, placed on their website.
“Where shall I meet you for lunch?”
“I’ll have Debbie come for you and bring you to me.” he said. He strolled to the door and held it open for us. It looked like I was getting dismissed. I nodded, taking Betty’s hand as we both stalked out.
We found our way back to the laundry room and got busy with our chores. Since I didn’t pay attention to Debbie’s instructions I didn’t know what to do. Betty Lou had to explain everything to me, down to where the laundry detergent was. She quickly began to separate the clothes and towels and load the washer. She couldn’t reach or see where to put the detergent so I helped with that. We quietly began to fold what was already dry and sort the clothes into different piles. Girls began to come in and out, leaving clothes, towels and even shoes to be washed. And each time one came in she would thank me for what I did to Frank or act in awe of me. They all called him Gator Leg as well. So, I guessed Lilly wasn’t the only one that was grateful he was gone. Lilly had told them all what happened, how I stood up to Chang and how I put a spin on the situation. One girl went as far as calling me a spin-doctor. I laughed. As for me... I wasn’t sure how to feel. This was the second man I’d killed and I didn’t think twice about it. I was glad he was gone and would never come back. I just wished it wasn’t like this. Needless to say, I didn’t feel good about what happened or myself no matter how grateful these girls were.
“Isabel,” Betty chimed, “thank you for taking care of me. I’m only a little scared now. It’s not as bad as last night. When I get back home I’m going to tell my mom that I want to go to church because praying really works.” She sounded so optimistic. I smiled, watching her as she folded clothes and sorted them. I wished I had her optimism.
“Isabel Grace… Isabel Grace.” It was Caroline saying my name in an urgent, hushed voice.
“Caroline!” I squeaked in a low voice, hugging her tight, not wanting to let her go. “So, this is where you’ve been the last year? We were all suspecting you ran away with your boyfriend. No offense, but you do have a reputation for being a wily one.”
“He was no real boyfriend, Isabel Grace. He was only pretending so I would go away with him and he could bring me here. I can’t believe I actually thought he loved me. Never mind about me, why and how are you here?”
“It’s a long story,” I said, rolling my eyes, “but the short version is I figured out Chang is a Triad member and he had me kidnapped.”
Caroline was pretending to unload and load her basket with clothes. “I heard what you did last night. Gator Leg sounds like something you’d come up with.” She smirked. “Everyone is talking how you’re going to help us get out of here. Is that true?”
“Whoa! I hope y’all aren’t saying that out loud to where you know who can hear.”
“No, of course not.”
“I never really said I’m going to get all of us out of here. I just asked how I could get a phone charger and about the cell phone and Wi-Fi jammers,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t know how I can communicate with anyone outside of here if I can’t charge my phone or even get a signal once I do.”
We worked in silence for a few minutes, Caroline helping us fold a few of the clothes and placing them in her basket. I took a fleeting glance around the room and toward the entrance of the laundry room. “Caroline, I need you to do something for me.” I continued, “I need you to take care of Betty Lou while I’m at lunch with Chang.”
She stopped what she was doing and gaped at me. Giving me a full-on deer-in-the-head-lights stare. “What?”
“I know, I don’t get it either and I can’t even speculate what’s going through his head. All I can assume is he likes talking art with me.” I placed my hand on her forearm. “Please, just tell me you’ll look after her while I’m with him. I have to know she’ll be safe.”
“Yeah, sure…of course!”
“Thank you.” I exhaled.
32
Caroline left with a basket full of clothes, towels and bed sheets. Betty and I worked the rest of the morning in silence, trying to get
as much done as possible. We were unsure what would happen to us if we didn’t finish everything, so we tried our best to finish.
I had introduced Betty and Caroline to one another before Caroline had to leave and explained to Betty that she would be taking care of her while I was at lunch. Caroline had told us that some girls had appointments during lunchtime and those that didn’t would eat lunch together in the kitchen like this morning. Also, the same girls that cooked breakfast would make lunch. I wondered if they were also going to make lunch for Chang and I.
We were nearly finished washing and folding all the clothes, towels and sheets when Debbie came looking for me.
“Isabel, follow me, please.” Her tone was curt.
“Of course, Debbie.” I extended my hand for Betty to take as we headed out.
“Oh. No. Just you. Betty needs to stay here.”
“I understand that, but I’m taking Betty to Caroline Fitzsimmons and leaving her with Caroline before I do anything else,” I stated, eyeing her emotionless.
She narrowed her eyes at me, contemplating what I just said. “I’ll take her.” She was reaching for Betty as she said the words.
I positioned myself between her and Betty. “No, you won’t.”
“I’m not going to hurt the child or kidnap her, for god’s sake.”
“You and your sociopath boss have already done that, thank you very much, but like I said, I’m taking her,” I said icily, squaring my shoulders. I was trying to make myself seem taller and more intimidating than I actually was. There was no An or anyone else to come save her, if push came to shove, and I knew I had the upper hand since I’d done kickboxing for the past four years. I wasn’t afraid to take hits or hit. My body language said “bring it.”
She eyed me for a hot minute—her lips pressed into a thin line—contempt splattered across her face. Finally nodding, she took us to Caroline’s room where I entrusted Betty Lou to her. I knelt down to give Betty a few words of confidence.
“Isabel, you’re very scary when you get mad,” Betty whispered. “I don’t want to ever cross you.” I softly chuckled. Well, at least someone thinks I’m intimidating.
I followed Debbie back downstairs. She led me to the dining room where Chang was waiting with a glass of white wine in his hand, standing next to a painting. The table was set for two and the food was already prepared and waiting for us.
“Dr. Langley!” Chang exclaimed. “Why are you still in your pajamas?”
“These are the only clothes I have. The clothes I was wearing when I first arrived were bloo... er… dirty. Debbie was kind enough to give me these lovely PJs,” I answered, giving Debbie a wry smile.
He eyed me from head to toe. “We will have to remedy that. Give Debbie your size, and shoe size as well and she will take care of it.” He looked at Debbie, inclining his head toward me. She let out a loud sigh and turned to me, not asking me anything at all but waiting from me to give her my size. Her demeanor radiated irritation and she was stony-face with her lips still pressed in a thin line. I was enjoying watching her fume. I gave her my dress size, shoe size and lingerie size. She rolled her eyes at me, so I thanked her very sweetly, yet with a bit of irony in my voice. She stormed out in a huff.
“I don’t think Debbie likes me at all,” I mused. “That would make another female that probably wishes I were gone.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I had forgotten about Ginger. She does indeed want you gone or dead.” He continued, “Never mind about Debbie, Dr. Langley, she’s just not used to your personality. Please, have a seat.”
And you are? Seriously, was he implying that he knew me and knew what kind of person I was? I sat down, laying my napkin in my lap. I watched him while he poured me a glass of white wine. He was smirking at some unspoken thought. I could feel my heart beginning to race and my adrenaline spike. I wished I could read his mind so I’d know what he had planned. I didn’t drink or even pick up the glass of wine thinking, yet again, it may be poisoned. It wasn’t until he refilled his glass and took a long sip from it that I picked mine up and tasted the wine. It was actually delicious, very crisp and light.
“Mm, it tastes like summer in a glass. Not at all what I was expecting for fall weather.”
“What a very interesting description, Dr. Langley,” Chang said chuckling. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it put that way. But, yes, I would agree, this wine is very light and fruity.” He took my plate and began to serve me before preparing a plate for himself. Everything looked and smelled enticing. My stomach grumbled.
“Please, Dr. Langley, don’t be shy. Dig in. It’s from one of my favorite Mediterranean restaurants in the city. I promise you, you will not be disappointed.”
I took an inconspicuous deep breath, not knowing for certain if this man still wanted to kill me, and began to eat. The fish melted in my mouth and the vegetables were just the right amount of doneness. We were eating in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the food. I began to look around the room, trying to see if I could spot a cell phone jammer or two. In the far corner, just outside the dining room, next to one of the sofas in the great room, on one of the end tables, it looked like there might be one but I would have to get closer to see if it actually was. From where I was, it just looked like a black, rectangular object.
“What are you looking for, Dr. Langley? What is so interesting to you that you have to crane your neck to see it?”
“Oh.” He startled me. “I’m not looking for anything in particular, Mr. Chang. I’m just admiring your home,” I lied. “Your home should be featured in an architectural and design magazine. It’s just too interesting and eye-catching to not want to look at everything. I feel like in some rooms it’s as if baroque meets modern and in other rooms it’s contemporary meets traditional. Did you decorate it yourself? I would love a tour one of these days.” Actually, that was how his house, or rather mansion, came across to me, although, if he did ever take me on a tour, it would give me the opportunity to look for those jammers. I took another bite of my delectable fish and a sip of my wine to wash it down.
“Dr. Langley, your compliment overwhelms me. No one has ever shown this much interest in my home or in my art collection. I don’t know what to say.” He was gazing at me, his eyes wide and unblinking. “And to answer your question, yes, I did decorate it myself. However, I’ve never had anyone over so I could share my art and frankly no one has ever shown interest in coming to visit. I don’t have that many friends that appreciate art and the finer things in life. I’ve always wanted to hold a dinner party and discuss art and the artists that painted or sculpted the art.”
Was he serious? No one else had shown interest in his art or museum-like mansion? He was a human sex trafficker! What the hell was he thinking… that he could have a dinner party and no one would notice that he had a ton of young girls living here? The more I talked to Chang the more I began to realize he was, at times, living in an imaginary world, detached from logic, sympathy and just common compassion for others. He saw those girls and me as things that were now part of his collection. Or… was he just craving companionship? He was confounding me.
“Well… um… perhaps because, you know… given your… um… profession, perhaps that’s why you haven’t had anyone over?”
“Yes, that does impede on me being able to have a normal social life,” he said, sighing as if it were nothing. “But you’re here now and we seem to have the most riveting conversations about all things art and art history.” His face had a whisper of a smile.
This was getting weird and his overt politeness was disturbing. I wanted so badly to take control of the situation somehow, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “It’s a shame that I’ll have to leave here one day and go to wherever. Our riveting conversations will come to an end,” I casually replied, taking another bite of my food. “That is your plan, right? That’s what I heard you tell Debbie ‘once Dr. Langley is gone…’ Am I wrong?” Maybe my comment would confuse him or stir some k
ind of emotion to make him think. I eyed him, trying to observe his body language.
“Yes, Dr. Langley, that is the plan,” he answered without skipping a beat. He took another forkful of food. “So far, I have only uploaded your picture with a brief summary of you on the website we talked about, the one where the clientele has deep pockets. It seems as though some of these clients want to buy you and, so, just as I predicted, they are trying to outbid one other. A bidding war.” He smirked, taking a drink of his wine.
I gazed down at my food, suddenly feeling nausea. I picked at my food, not wanting to give myself away. That really didn’t go like I thought it would. I quickly changed the subject and asked him how he got started on his art collection and what inspired him to decorate the way he did. I even went as far as to encourage him to try a little painting or sculpting himself. He laughed and told me that work was keeping him too busy at the moment and he couldn’t find the time.
Work. I fought the urge to frown and shake my head at his answer. He talked like it was a nine-to-five job. I wished I could ask him what got him to this point in his life. How did he get mixed up in this awful… “business?” By the time we finished eating and drinking the bottle of wine, he was still on the topic of how his art collection began. He had yet to answer what inspired him to decorate his mansion the way he did.
I could hear girls coming and going. No doubt for their appointments. I had no way of checking to see what time it was, but by the angle of the sun, as I glanced out the windows, trying to see through the permanently closed shutters, it looked to be mid to late afternoon. I was starting to get a little worried about Betty Lou. I was anxious to get back to her.
An idea struck me, so I finally interrupted him, “Mr. Chang, have you heard of a painting called The Isle of the Dead?” He shook his head. “It was a very popular painting in Europe many years ago. I don’t know about today but Rachmaninoff composed a symphonic poem about this particular painting. The music is so powerful and ominous and melancholy all wrapped up in an opus.” I continued, “I’ve heard the music but have never seen the painting. Nor do I know much about the painting or the artist. This is something I’ve always wanted to research but never found the time to do so.” I was hoping this would pique his interest enough for him to want to get up and look it up.
