by Gerald Lopez
“First, I’m going to shower with you,” Bart said. “Then I’m going to treat us to breakfast, and maybe go for a swim before getting ready to meet the boss lady on her boat.”
“Sounds fun, especially the showering together part,” Reese said. “You’ll like Lisa, she’s a nice lady. And you two seemed to get along well when you were here before.”
“That’s good to know.” He got up from bed and held his hand out to Reese, who took it.
They walked to the shower; Bart started the water, and when it was warm, they got inside and lathered each other up with soap. In between kissing and feeling each other up, they scrubbed one another clean, then rinsed off. After drying themselves, they went back to the bedroom, where Bart picked out a T-shirt and pair of shorts to put on.
“So, what does one wear when boating with the owner of our lovely resort?” Bart said.
“Lisa’s very casual, so a button-down shirt, shorts, and flip-flops will do,” Reese said. “But what do I know? My uniform’s a pair of Speedos and flip-flops.”
“I will definitely stop by the pool to see that,” Bart said. “You’d better pop down to your apartment and change, so we can get breakfast.”
“Alrighty,” Reese said. “I’ll see you in ten.” He kissed Bart on the lips, then left to go to his place.
Cute kid; and sounds like Reese is gonna get me in with the crowd I’m after—great! Bart thought. But what does the boss lady want to see me about? I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
Chapter 13
Meeting an Old Ally
BART AND Reese were having breakfast at an outdoor table when Mr. Orion happened to walk by with his ‘grandsons’. Bart made a subtle grab for Reese’s hand and held it.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Mr. Orion said.
“Good morning,” Bart said.
“Good morning,” Reese said, looking slightly nervous, until Bart rubbed his foot against his leg. Then he tried hard to keep from smiling, but was unsuccessful.
“Well, I’ve always been one to know when to leave two people alone, so I’ll make my exit,” Mr. Orion said, then smiled, waved, and walked away.
After breakfast, Reese excused himself to get ready for work, and Bart walked back to his apartment. While in the hall, he spotted James dressed in white shorts, a white button-down shirt, white socks and sneakers. James was walking fast toward him—and not slowing down. Even though he’d seen him approaching, Bart was still taken by surprise when James pushed him against the wall and pinned him there. His face was just inches from Bart’s face, and he was mad.
“What do you think you’re doing, Jeremy?”
“Don’t you mean, who do I think I’m doing? In any case, it’ none of your damn business, James—you had your chance, and you blew it.”
“I blew it, so you decide to spend the entire night with Reese,” James said.
“That’s pretty much it, in a nutshell… and we blew each other too—how funny is that?”
“Not funny at all,” James said.
“Maybe not,” Bart said, then whispered the rest in James’s ear. “But I’m one step closer to getting rid of our mutual problem. That is if your jealousy doesn’t mess things up.”
James backed off. “I’m sorry, Jeremy, I thought you might’ve been getting serious about Reese.”
“Well, those are the types of stupid ideas you get when you think too much,” Bart said. He looked around, saw they were alone, and give James a quick kiss on the lips. “Get the hell out of here before you screw up my plans to help us both.”
“Jeremy—”
“Go,” Bart said. “I have places to be and people to see.”
Bart rested in his apartment for a while, then put on a bathing suit and went for a swim in the pool where Reese was working. After having lunch, he changed into a button-down shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. Taking a minute to call Jenna, Bart let her know he was headed out and where he was going, as he walked to his car and got inside. He stopped for directions to the Kristoff residence at the gatehouse before he drove onto the main road. There was no time for sightseeing… he had an appointment to keep, and the house was close.
Not far from the resort, Bart took a right turn, then another right, until he was in front of a large iron gate flanked by palm trees on either side. There was a speaker and a keypad next to his window. He rolled down his car window and pressed a button on the box.
“Jeremy Kent here to meet with Mrs. Kristoff.”
“Drive around to the side when the gate opens, please,” an unfamiliar female voice said.
The gate opened, and Bart drove through. Within seconds, an expansive green lawn came into view, followed by a large, Mediterranean style, two-story home. It was a pale orange color. Bart parked on the side of the home, exited his car, and was greeted by Lisa. She wore a very short, sheer, multi-color cover-up over a blue bikini, and had beaded sandals on her feet.
“It’s so good to see you again, Jeremy,” She said, taking his hand. “Come on inside.”
Bart followed her through a side entrance which led into a wide hall. The floors were tile, but not marble or shiny; they were more weathered looking.
“I love the walls,” Bart said. “Venetian plaster, I presume.”
“Yes,” Lisa said. “I remember you commenting on them during previous visits. You were also a fan of the artwork and decor.”
Bart almost felt like she was giving him hints of sorts with her comments, so he made sure to look at the paintings on the wall, and the Lladro sculpture of a group of women carrying parasols displayed on the hall table. As he and Lisa walked up to a wide doorway with double doors that were opened, Bart heard someone call out.
“Jeremy, come in and say hello a minute.”
Lisa led Bart through the doorway and into a two-story library. Every wall, except one which had a large picture window, was lined with wooden bookshelves. There was a grouping of sofas and chairs in the center of the room over an ornate rug; a large desk anchored the corner; and various sculptures and artwork accented tables in the room. Marcus Kristoff stood in front of them wearing shorts, a Polo shirt, and sandals. He held a drink in his hand and was smiling. Bart took a minute to really look at the man—he was under six feet tall, but in better shape than he’d initially thought, with full gray hair that was brushed back, and a golden tan. His best feature had to be his almost glowing blue eyes.
“So, my friend, how are you enjoying being back?” Marcus said.
“I’m enjoying it so far, thank you,” Bart said. “Still haven’t regained my memory though… not even of this lovely house.”
“That’s a shame,” Marcus said. “This really is a lovely house. My wife decorated all of it—including this room. Unfortunately, I can’t say I’m all that knowledgeable when it comes to art, but I like what my wife has done. What do you think of her taste in art, Jeremy?”
“Well, as I said, I haven’t regained my memory—I’m not sure I’m a good judge of such things. So, if you’re asking me if she has good taste, I can only reply by saying—she married you, didn’t she.”
“Now, that’s a good answer,” Marcus said. “I really did miss you, Jeremy. There was no one else I could trust to escort my wife to all those boring charity events she’s forced to attend. I had to go with her myself, and I’m no good at such things.”
“I’m sure you handled yourself well,” Bart said. “Since I’ve returned, maybe I can lighten your burden a little in that regard.”
“That would be much appreciated,” Marcus said.
“Jeremy and I had better head out, Marcus,” Lisa said to her husband. “I’m going to set anchor and do some painting while he and I talk about the upcoming social season.”
“You two enjoy yourselves.”
Lisa once again took Bart’s hand, led him out of the room, and down to the end of the hall. They exited the house, walked past the outdoor kitchen and pool area and onto the dock. The home was right on the water and had an incred
ible view. Bart followed his hostess to her boat, and cast off after Lisa started the engine. The breeze felt good as the boat practically flew through the water. Twenty-minutes later, and a good distance from the house, Lisa shut the engine off and anchored the boat. She reached into a cooler, took a can of soda out, and handed it to Bart.
Now it was her turn to be closely looked at by Bart. Her sheer cover-up was open and revealed a slim, but tight and tanned body. There were no visible scars anywhere on her.
“My husband insisted I get the best surgeons possible in order to minimize scarring from the breast cancer surgery,” Lisa said. She reached into a large canvas bag by the cooler and pulled out some sort of electronic device which she slowly waved around the boat. When a green light on the device flashed, she put it back in the canvas bag. “One day, I’m going to have to stop answering people’s questions regarding the cancer before they ask them. I would love to sketch you, Jeremy. Do you mind?”
“No, not at all,” Bart said, then watched Lisa reach into her canvas bag again and retrieve a large sketch pad and a box of pencils.
“There are some goodies in the cooler, if we get hungry, Jeremy.”
“Thank you,” Bart said, wiping sweat from his neck.
“If you get hot, feel free to take off your shirt, or jump in the water.”
Bart removed his shirt, then sat back in his seat and watched his hostess start to sketch.
“It’s funny,” Lisa said. “It almost seems as if I’m sketching an entirely different person. The last time I sketched you, I could swear the blue in your eyes had highlights that were slightly more gray. But then I’m sure you don’t remember the last time we did this, or our discussion about how we’d be allies in running the resort.”
“Sorry, I don’t—but I’d love to think of you as an ally.”
“Oh, I am, Jeremy. You’ll come to see that I am very much your ally. I suppose that right now, in your condition, it’s hard knowing who to trust.”
“It is,” Bart said, as he continued watching the artist at work. “Until I regain my memories, I think it’s best for me not to trust anyone.”
“That’s a somewhat cynical view to take, but probably for the best, as you said. There are many untrustworthy and dangerous people in the world, especially in our small corner of it.”
“Speaking of dangerous people, I’m impressed with the way you’ve handled Mr. Orion. I’m assuming that device you waved around the boat was checking for bugs or listening devices… so I’m thinking we can speak freely.”
“You assumed correctly,’ Lisa said. “One must tread lightly and carefully around dangerous animals—oops, I meant to say people, but then it’s so hard to tell the difference between animals and men these days.”
“Except that usually animals are a lot more humane than human beings,” Bart said.
“Very nicely and accurately put, Jeremy. Please feel free to speak your mind while we’re alone out here.”
“Thank you, I will,” Bart said. “Since I’ve been here, I’ve heard staff at the resort say Mr. Orion was connected, however, a new friend has informed me that he’s almost positive Mr. Orion isn’t mafia—but something even more dangerous. I thought the term ‘connected’ was usually meant to imply mafia connections.”
“Hmm,” Lisa said. “James told me he’d mentioned the Orion situation to you and our solution, but you’ve been talking to someone else about him, haven’t you?”
“Someone who’s gotten himself into a situation with Mr. Orion has been talking to me—a very frightened somebody,” Bart said.
“Your friend has good reason to be frightened of Orion—would you like to know why?”
Chapter 14
Ties that Bind
“YES, I WOULD like to know why,” Bart said.
“Orion and the others are not mafia. But there are ties that bind three men together—my husband, my husband’s brother Roberto, and Mr. Orion. The ties go back a long way, and they are deep. Would you like to hear the long version or the short one?” Lisa said.
“The long version, if we have time, Lisa.”
“Why don’t you grab a sandwich out of the cooler?”
Bart opened the cooler and took out a container which held sandwiches. He handed one to Lisa, and as he took a bite of his sandwich, his thoughts drifted—peanut butter and jelly was Jeremy’s favorite snack. Tears rolled from his eyes, and he wiped them away.
“I remembered that peanut butter and jelly were Jer’s—I mean your favorite,” Lisa said. “Tears are wasted on men like my husband, Roberto, and Orion. Life has made them cruel and heartless. One can never let their guard down around any of them.”
“How do you survive being married to a man like that, Lisa?”
“I know my place with him. I’m a status symbol for him, just like a watch he’d wear, or a car he’d drive. Being part of my family makes him feel like he’s achieved a certain level of respectability. That’s what they all want—respectability… and to feel like they belong with the rich and powerful people.”
“I thought they were the rich and powerful people,” Bart said.
“They’re ghosts wandering the earth, not realizing they’re already dead. The only thing missing is the bullet to finish the job.”
“Whoa! That’s harsh—but probably accurate,” Bart said. “Tell me the long version of this ghost story.”
“If only it really were a ghost story, then none of it would be real,” Lisa said. “Two of the three men we just spoke of don’t really exist, not by the names they’re currently using anyway. They’re assumed identities, so they could try and retire peacefully. Certain people were paid off, and papers obtained… but it’s all lies.”
“Is that why it’s so hard to get the goods on Mr. Orion… because there is no Mr. Orion?” Bart said.
“You catch on quick, Jeremy,” Lisa said. “My husband and the others come from a small and poor South American country. One so tiny and insignificant it’s never been heard of by most people. There are constant military coups; and oftentimes whole regions are under the control of powerful generals.”
“Like your husband and his friends,” Bart said.
“You’re getting ahead of the story now—way too far ahead. This story starts with three little boys who grew up together in an orphanage. Two of them are brothers aged nine and ten with a younger sister named Alicia. The third boy, whom you know as Orion, was like a third brother and he was ten at the time like Roberto. Their parents thought they’d be safe in the care of the priests and nuns at the orphanage, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. After the soldiers destroyed their village, raped the woman, and killed the men who could no longer work; they turned their sights on the orphanage. The man in charge of the soldiers was a minor general, who felt his soldiers lacked fighting and hunting skills. Rather than hunt animals, he decided to train his men by having them hunt the children from the orphanage.”
“How horrible!” Bart said. “But they survived—your husband and the other two survived.”
“The soldiers picked the strongest of the children, who survived the hunt, to join their unit. Thanks to Orion, my husband survived, as did his brother.”
“And their sister Alicia?” Bart said. “What happened to her?”
“My husband still cries out her name in the middle of the night at times,” Lisa said. “I hold him and run my fingers through his hair to calm him, but what he endured—and the things he saw still haunt him to this day. He often tells me that he’d wished his sister had died during the hunt instead of having been tortured, raped, and—” she took a minute to compose herself.
“What more could the soldiers have done to them?” Bart said.
“The girls were too small to survive what had been done to them; and along with… along with the small and weak surviving children, they were eaten like animals.”
“Oh, God,” Bart said, covering his face with his hands for a moment.
“The surviving child
ren witnessed everything, including seeing the priests and nuns who worked at the orphanage shot down,” Lisa said. “The other name my husband cries out at night is ‘padre, padre.’ He never forgot seeing the priest in charge shot in front of him. God help my husband, Roberto, and Orion. In order to survive their tormentors, they had to become just like them. There is a level of cruelty inside each of those men that neither you nor I could ever, ever understand. They suffered, and made others suffer as they rose through the ranks—and rise they did… and along the way they amassed enormous wealth, and gained reputations as men to be feared and avoided.”
“But if the two people here are retired now, what is there to fear?” Bart said.
“They have people around they can call upon for help, should they need it. People who exist in the shadows, and only come out when there’s a job to be done.”
“So how does one take someone like Orion out of the area?” Bart said.
“If he wants to stay… and he does, then the only way to get him to leave is on a stretcher with a one-way ticket to Hell,” Lisa said. “And unfortunately, I’m not joking.”
“After everything that happened to Mr. Orion, why would he do the things he does?” Bart said. “I understand that abused people often become abusers, but… but why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they hate how weak they felt as children, and it makes them hate all children.”
“All children,” Bart said, almost in a daze. “But not all children deserve such hate. Surely those men love the children in their own families.”
“Orion has no children; my husband’s brother Roberto has a son, who he tortured and abused to the point that his son despises him—then there’s my lovely stepdaughter Rachel. What do you think of her, Jeremy?”
“Rachel claimed she had the perfect upbringing in which she lacked for nothing,” Bart said. “She also claims to be a bitch, and I’m inclined to agree with her. But something is off about her. I believe her when she said she was never abused, but something’s not quite right.”
