by Eden Sharp
'Everywhere we go, guys are checking you out and yet you prefer to be alone. What's with the big frozen wall?'
'Don't try and psychoanalyze me John.'
'Don't hit and run Angie.'
She pulled away from him, slid out from the sheets and got to her feet.
'I don't sleep well with others. Ollie will pick up the car.'
FORTY-FIVE
Angela McGlynn
I stepped out of the cab into the cool night and turned left onto Telhama, heading east. It was a couple of blocks away from my place and I used the surrounding streets as dropping off points because I didn't want cab drivers knowing my address. I was looking forward to getting some sleep but the universe had other plans. Right there on the corner of the block were two guys looking in my direction and waiting, like we had some kind of business together. A warning beeped in my brain. Even though they were partnered up I got the feeling they weren't cops. Their clothes were too expensive.
The guys looked capable. Feet planted with an equal distribution of weight. Confident, self-assured expressions. Ready to boss the situation, ready to act. Cop-like. It was always a case of weighing up the options. Move out of harm's way and play it safe or put yourself out there for the possibility of gaining some valuable information. I had never been someone who enjoyed drawing attention but equally I had never been one to favor playing it safe. I carried on walking all the while fighting my baser instincts which were telling me to run.
Four yards out a guy with a mustache, obviously the most proactive one said, 'Mr. Secora has a job for you.'
I came to a halt.
'I already have a job,' I said.
'Not anymore.'
Some kind of vehicle pulled up from behind me. Blindsided, I turned around to look and saw Diamond Stud driving a black Lincoln with Jolly Orange in the passenger side. I was almost flattered he'd spared four of them to pick me up.
'Is this the part where you tell me to get in, like the movies?' I said.
The one with the non-speaking part walked round to the far side and got in, sitting in the back behind Jolly Orange. The one with the lead part opened the door.
'You either get in or I put you in,' he said.
I wasn't a fan of getting into cars with people I didn't know. I skipped through a quick scenario. Kick him in the balls, break the bridge of his nose with my knee on his way down and run like hell before the others could exit the car. Most of the surrounding area I knew very well. Once inside my building I was safe because the elevator required an access code to stop at my floor. On the other hand in order to be offered a job I needed to be living and breathing.
'Wow. He sent four of you to pick up one girl,' I said and got in.
I was shown into some kind of living area rather than being sent to Secora's office, and told to wait. I liked the three large, glass, French doors that opened out into the outside space, for the light they'd allow in in the daytime, but the faux Roman columns painted onto the walls either side of a book case weren't to my taste. All of the books were leather bound with embossed lettering and they matched. Most likely chosen by an interiors person as opposed to having been collected or read.
In the middle of the floor the furniture had been arranged on a large, rectangular, silk rug. On one side sat two expensive but uncomfortable-looking, wooden, hardback chairs with checkered upholstery. A small, marble table with a lamp separated them. They bordered one side of a large, square, marble coffee table. Beyond this sat a high-end, antique-looking couch that belonged in a magazine but didn't look inviting. Each piece complimented the next in muted, pastel earth tones.
I decided I liked the glass doors and I would keep the floor. The floor was spectacular. Across the span of the room a mackerel-patterned, rich, nutty oak had been laid in ten strips. Each strip was made up of fifteen-inch boards. Each strip was paired. The left-hand side boards ran diagonally opposite to their right-hand side neighbors giving a V-shaped effect. Maybe Secora was into hardwood flooring after all.
Footsteps approached the door. I went and studied a picture of a Roman noble woman on the wall, turning my back to the door. As if I were receiving a guest.
The door opened and someone came in. I didn't turn around.
'I suggest you sit down,' Secora said.
More of an imperative, less of a suggestion.
I turned around.
'I'm good thanks.'
He faltered for a moment then pulled back one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs, rearranging its position by two to three inches, signaling an invitation.
'Please,' he said.
Now that I'd gained a concession I walked over and sat.
He pulled back the other chair and sat facing me.
'I hope the men I had bring you to see me were courteous,' he said.
'Are they in HR or are they the ones who lay the flooring?' I said.
'I don't like women with big mouths.'
'Luckily my sense of self is not predicated on whether or not you find me interesting' I said. 'How about we cut right to it?'
'All right. Who paid you?'
'I don't discuss my clients with anyone.'
'I like loyalty. But only when it's to me. I'll pay you a hundred thousand dollars. I want to know who and I'm not very patient.'
Nobody offered that amount of money for a name no matter how rich they were. That was just dumb. He'd gone in high to try and impress me. If I had been stupid enough to tell him, my value would have dropped dramatically. It was just a test. So why was he interested in who had hired me to find a missing girl? Did he care about Jaime after all and want to determine who might have tried to snatch her?
'Let's get serious Mr. Secora. One of your guys mentioned a job. I won't discuss my client and my rates are way more reasonable. What exactly is it that you want?'
'I think someone's paid you to send me a message whether you're aware of it or not.'
I shook my head. 'Not true. I'm genuinely trying to find someone who I believe was mistaken for your step-daughter.'
'I want to know who wanted to take Jaime,' he said.
'Then we both want the same thing.'
'I want you to get friendly with someone and find out if he's involved. Report back to me. Your rates just went up.'
'What's the name of this guy?'
'Glen Secora. A cousin of mine. A distant cousin. I recently fell out with a long-term partner. I want to know if the two of them went into business together.'
FORTY-SIX
Secora had filled me in some more then I'd had just over thirty minutes at home. Enough time to have a shower, get changed, and pack what I would need before heading back out.
Glen Secora was exactly where his cousin had said he would be, in a nightclub for the over twenty-fives. He looked like an aging blond jock in a Miami suit. Volume was newish and expensive and trying to position itself as the latest celebrity hangout as though it had somehow got lost here on its way to LA. The guys were older and richer than the hipster places. The girls were young or young-looking, wearing the kinds of dresses with labels that justified the price if not the amount of fabric used to create them. There were a few wannabes, some who looked like they believed snagging a ball player amounted to a career plan, and others who were most definitely professionals. In the back room not boardroom sense. At the top end of the pay grade, for these girls an outcall didn't mean flying commercial to Atlantic City, more a private jet to Dubai.
Glen Secora was playing but he was cheap, encircled by a string of wannabes who were drinking but not getting drunk. I watched them trail off to the bathroom repeatedly. Each time they returned they were more animated, more uninhibited, and all over him. A couple of times he disappeared off after them so they could pay their dues.
I set myself up on a stool nearby at one of the many bars in the place. Each time he came over to order drinks he looked me over. I had dressed to impress. He'd smile and I'd smile back. All I wanted to do was slam him onto the ground and st
omp on him but I was pretty confident it would come to that. When he realized I'd been in the same spot for over an hour and the novelty of his entourage was starting to wear thin he decided to make his play.
He sidled over, a little closer than I would have liked.
'Can I buy you a drink?'
'Thanks,' I said. 'Jack and Coke.'
He added my order to the drinks the barman was already preparing for him. When it came to my drink, I'd made sure I'd only get a Coke with ice. The guy had the smaller half of a hundred-dollar bill in his tip jar.
'Why are you here all by yourself?' Secora asked.
'I'm waiting for my girlfriend,' I said.
'You're gay?'
I locked on to his eyes, raised my eyebrows a little and gave him a look I'd call “expectant”.
'Not exclusively.'
It had the effect it was supposed to. He took a step backwards and made a show of looking me up and down. Maybe I was meant to be flattered.
I was wearing low-rise, black pants, and boots with spike heels but it was my top half that got his attention. An all-in-one shiny, black, rubber body suit that pushed up my breasts and clung tight around my ribs and waist like a corset. The sides were cut high revealing bare skin around my hips and lower back.
'You've been sitting here a long time,' he said.
'She's a nurse. I'm waiting for her to get off shift.'
'So you have a name?'
'Angela.'
'I'm Glen' he said. 'You like to party?'
I would have put money on that being his next line. But he wasn't just trying his luck for a three-way. I knew the question had an alternative meaning.
'I don't do drugs,' I said. 'But I like to have fun and I'm not having a great evening. Why don't you check back with me when you're ready to leave. Maybe I'll still be here.’
'Why don't we leave now?' he said.
I gave it a few seconds and made it look like I was thinking about it before I agreed.
He went back to his table to collect his jacket and I slipped the barman the other half of the hundred.
The cab ride to his condo was short and I was grateful for that because he was obsessed by my hair and I don't like being touched by people I don't know.
We rode the elevator to the third floor. It didn't have the views that the higher levels would have had or the associated price tag. The interior resembled a hotel room. The furnishings looked like they were the ones that came standard if you bought the whole package on-plan. I was guessing in Glen Secora's case it was a rental.
On the way over he'd tried to make out like he was a billionaire playboy but he had a big mouth and I could see how he was likely to be considered a problem by his cousin. He couldn't resist hinting that his family were well-connected. In a Corleone kind of way as opposed to old money from the Hamptons.
He collapsed on the couch and took out a mirror and blade from a drawer in the coffee table and cut two lines of coke and offered me one of them. Either he hadn't remembered what I had already said or he didn't believe I knew my own mind. I politely declined and he snorted both of them through a silver tube.
I set my jacket down on the couch opposite while he went over to the kitchen area to pour drinks. I watched him to make sure he didn't spike me and he watched me taking off my boots.
My cell pinged. I retrieved it. It was a message from Knox.
You get home OK? You awake?
Secora came back over and put two glasses of liquor down on the coffee table. I put my cell back in my jacket.
'Sit down,' I said.
He sat. I turned my back to him, undid my belt and unbuttoned my pants. Then I slid them down over my rear, bending forward to push them down to my ankles. I stepped out of them and turned around. He was eyeing me like dessert.
I walked over to him and pulled him up off the couch by his lapels.
'Bring your drink,' I said.
'Okay Angie.'
'It's Angela,' I said.
He picked up one of the glasses, unconcerned about my drink.
I grabbed my jacket, flung it over my shoulder and headed off towards where I'd figured the bedroom to be. If I'd had it wrong I guessed he would put me right, but I hadn't.
He put down his glass on the nightstand and started to take off his jacket. He let it drop to the floor at the side of the bed. I did the same with mine. He started to unbutton his shirt. I stopped him.
'Let me.'
I got in close and unbuttoned his shirt, all the time staring into his eyes. His pupils were dilated.
'I'm in charge,' I said.
He nodded. Looked like a puppy being offered a treat.
'You got a tie in your closet?'
He nodded again.
I slipped off his shirt.
'Wait for me.'
His closet was limited in terms of clothes but I found a couple of ties.
I walked back over to the bed and laid them on the pillow. He was still standing where I'd left him. I undid his belt and unzipped his fly. He kicked off his shoes. I pulled his pants down over his boxers and sank down until they were down around his ankles and I was resting on my heels and pushed him back onto the bed.
I waited while he maneuvered himself round into a more comfortable position and got to work with the ties, securing each of his wrists to the bed frame. Then I reached down for my jacket and took out the handcuffs I'd brought. The ties weren't going to hold him for my purposes but would work long enough to disable him from trying to stop me cuffing him to the bed.
At first he seemed into it, by the time I'd got the second pair on and attached his other wrist, maybe there was a hint of doubt forming. I left him for a minute and went back out to retrieve my pants and boots. When I came back in and he saw that I was fully dressed and realized he was chained up with his pants round his ankles it was possible his primitive brain had started to send him clues. By the time I'd put my jacket back on and taken out my knife he most definitely had the right idea.
'You've been a really naughty boy,' I said. 'So Peter sent me.'
FORTY-SEVEN
I darted round to the side of the bed and raised the knife above his sternum making out like I was about to stab it down hard. He screamed. I let it trail down his stomach towards his boxers. He was most definitely no longer turned on. He tried to kick out but his pants were balling up around his ankles making it an ineffective option.
I took out my cell.
'We're going to make a movie for your cousin. A live show, like the girls do on webcams. He's going to watch and he wants you to put on a good show. He wants the motivation for your character to be someone seeking forgiveness. He's looking for something moving and confessional. He's looking for a certain truthfulness. Something that means you can be accepted back into the family fold. If he doesn't get off on what you tell him he says he'll be happy with a slasher.'
I pressed some buttons and made it look like I was connecting out to some place elsewhere. Then I pointed the phone at myself.
'Hi Peter,' I said.
I looked over at Glen.
'He's in the office. It's so dark in there with all the wood and those blue walls.'
I turned the phone around and pointed it at the bed briefly then back towards me.
'Glen's here and we're good to go.'
I don't like guys who turn girls into coke whores but I wasn't intent on taking things very far. Years of fighting had taught me you go in hard and make the first one count. That the greatest threat to your enemy is their own mind, their own fear. I held the phone out at arm’s length as though I was trying to get both of us in the shot, held up the knife and then pierced the skin near the top of his groin with the tip of the blade. A minuscule amount of blood appeared. But the sight of it was enough.
His voice was high-pitched, almost shrieking. Words poured out of him.
'The cops got to me. They tried to make me go up against you. Tried to scare me. But I'm playing a double game here I swear. I'm finding
out what they know.'
He screwed up his eyes and shook his head from side to side as though denying the reality of what was happening to him. 'We're family. Family,' he sobbed.
'Suck it up for a second there Glen,' I said. 'I need to ask you a few questions.'
He nodded like a bobblehead but still kept his eyes closed.
'You working with Lewan?'
The eyes opened.
'Lewan? No.'
'How did they get to you, the cops?'
'Through a guy called Pulido. Lorentz Pulido.'
'He have anything to do with Jaime?'
'What? What's Jaime got to do with anything? Pulido's an informant for the narcs. He drops them a dime and they leave his shit alone.'
'Where can we find him?'
'I don't know.'
'Any of the cops for sale?'
'Not that I know of, no.'
'But you are talking to narcotics cops about the family business aren't you Glen? Along with anyone else who will listen.'
Glen Secora looked directly into my cell phone.
'I swear to you Pete, I would never go against you. Lewan deserved it. I understand that. But I'd never do anything, you need to believe that.'
I pushed a random icon so it beeped.
'I have a confession of my own to make Glen. I'm afraid I lied to you about having Pete on the line. But guess what? I have what I need. You're going to be real nice to me whenever I see you because I've got really expensive tastes. You play nice and your cousin doesn't need to know about any of this. But what you should know is, I really do work for him. You can get that straight from the horse's mouth. Don't make me have to report back.'
He took a few seconds to get up to speed but he got there in the end.
'You're blackmailing me? You fucking whore.'
I picked up his jacket from the floor and laid it on the bed. Then I went through it and found his wallet. He carried cash. I took out a hundred dollars.
'That's for my bar bill seeing how you offered to buy me a drink,' I said.