Prey for Us

by Geoffrey Neil

  Everett wriggled under her, trying to buck her off until she delivered an elbow to the side of his head, dazing him long enough to fish a stun gun from her purse. She pressed the stun gun’s prongs into his gut and delivered the voltage.

  Everett released a vibrating scream as his whole body stiffened.

  Morana clapped her gloved hand over his mouth. When she released the trigger, he rolled to his side, gasping for breath. He held his hands out in surrender. She rolled him face down. “This could’ve been so clean and easy, but you’ve made it messy.” She pressed his face to the floor.

  “Please—I’ll cooperate!” Everett said.

  “Oh, of course, you will,” she replied. She pulled his arms behind him, pulled zip-ties from her purse, and secured his wrists.

  “I said I’ll give the money back,” Everett said. “What else do you want? I can pay it back with interest. Please!” he shouted.

  “You’re noisy,” she replied.

  She pulled a bandana from her bag and gagged him before pulling him up into a sitting position.

  “You’re lucky that I won our first and last tussle. If you had won, you would have only hurt her.” Morana pointed to the photo of his wife printed on the label she had stuck to the elevator camera window.

  Everett struggled to raise his chin from the floor to see it. When he saw his wife’s image, his face contorted with a new confused terror. He grunted something through the gag.

  “Yes, I stopped by your place this morning. Rachel was incredibly hospitable, and we had a nice little visit that I feel was productive.”

  Everett screamed through the gag and kicked his feet against the floor.

  “Oh, you want to know if I’ve harmed her? Not yet. She’s safe in her car—for the time being. Don’t worry, her seatbelt is securely fastened.” Morana turned her phone so that Everett could see it. A live feed from a micro camera mounted to the dash of Rachel’s Lexus played on Morana’s phone. The camera was mounted under the rearview mirror and displayed the car’s interior. Between the driver and passenger seats, Rachel was fastened in the center of the three rear seats, her wrists and arms were bound tightly with a rope attached to her waist. She wore a blindfold and a gag. When Morana noticed that Rachel’s body was limp, and her head hung to one side, she frowned and said, “That’s odd…”

  Everett watched the horrifying footage of his wife’s stillness.

  Rachel’s head came up, and she tried to shift herself and writhed under her restraints.

  “Ahh, much better,” Morana sighed. “I tried not to restrict her breathing, but thought we might have lost her.” Morana laughed, turning the phone to Everett so he could see a few moments of his wife’s struggle. “I realize that Florida rarely gets cold enough for a remote car starter to be practical, but it was the only gift for Rachel I had on hand. Her car is parked in a place far from any foot traffic, but with an excellent public Wi-Fi signal. You’ll notice that up here in the corner of the screen,” Morana pointed for Everett to see, “the rear window is pinching a hose that attached to the car’s tailpipe. The car will automatically start in 13 more minutes unless I’m holding this phone, to type in the code that will snooze the fumes.” She put her lips close to Everett’s ear, “It’s how a girl stays prepared in case your cooperation flags, and you make things messier—can you blame me?”

  She pulled Everett to his feet. “When I remove the gag, you won’t make a sound. I’m taking your arm, and you’ll go where I lead you.”

  Everett’s nostrils flared, and he nodded furiously.

  After she removed his gag and freed his wrists, Morana pulled the emergency stop button on the elevator panel. The elevator car finished its descent, and the door opened.

  Morana led Everett by the arm, guiding him around the corner to her Explorer. “You should be happy there was no real damage to your car tonight—just like there wasn’t with Thane.”

  She opened the door and forced Everett inside, cuffing his wrist to the passenger door handle. “We’re going for a little drive.”

  Chapter 10

  MORANA AND EVERETT sat in the parking lot of his bank.

  “Any withdrawal over $10,000 requires paperwork,” he said.

  “You’ll withdraw $9,980, and you’ll pull 20 bucks from the ATM. When I get the 10 grand, you’ll get the location of your wife’s car.”

  Morana waited while Everett walked into his bank. She had his mobile phone in one hand and her burner phone in the other, ready to start his wife’s car at any sign that Everett might have gone off script.

  Fifteen minutes later, he returned, got into the car, and tossed a zipped cash bag onto her lap. “There. We’re done.”

  Morana opened the bag and counted the money while Everett wrung his hands. She reached around the seat and tucked the cash into a duffel bag.

  “Now, where’s my wife?” Everett said.

  Morana folded her hands in her lap and sighed. “There’s something you need to understand. Thane is unaware that you received this dirty money. He’s unaware that you have returned it. By returning the money, your net financial loss is zero. Thane has suffered a net emotional loss worth far more than $10,000. The weeks of stress and anxiety your dishonest demand put him through come with a price, so the score between you and him has not been settled.”

  “Tell me what you want. $10,000 more?”

  “I’m willing to ignore that imbalance on the condition that Thane never sees or hears from you again. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Everett said, swallowing hard. He raised his hand. “I swear!”

  “I hope you are sincere, because if Thane experiences the slightest twinge of discomfort because you contact him again, then I’ll dispense with your son, Devon, while his cute-as-a-button sister, Kimmy, watches. Then I’ll obtain and dispense with Rachel. Finally, we will have a follow-up visit to watch the results of your poor judgment on video together.”

  “No, please,” Everett begged. The color had drained from his face.

  Morana stared at him “I want to believe you, but I need to feel certain of your sincerity.”

  Everett’s lip quivered. “I swear to God I won’t say a word.”

  “Good for you. If, for some reason, that changes, please be certain that I will slaughter you last and slower than the others.”

  Everett raised his hands. “I swear Thane will never hear from me again.”

  “It’s time for you to get out.”

  “But my wife—you promised.”

  Morana raised her burner phone. “You’ll get a text with her location.”

  “But—”

  Morana started the car. “If I were you, I’d get out of this car now. You won’t like where I take you.”

  Everett jumped out and slammed the door. He backed away from the SUV as Morana drove away.

  In her rearview mirror, she saw him straining to see the license plate on her Explorer that she had removed.

  She drove to a quiet suburb and pulled to the side of the road and called Clay.

  He answered and said, “Don’t hang up on me again, we need to talk. Listen—”

  “No, you listen. Everett Paige isn’t a problem anymore,” Morana said.

  “That’s great news. What happened?”

  “Again, your acting sucks, Clay. He told me about the wire transfer and showed it to me on his phone. You paid the ten grand without telling me,” Morana yelled.

  “I couldn’t tell you. Thane swore me to secrecy.”

  “You need to tell me everything or our deal is off.”

  “Wait, did you kill Everett?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I called Thane from the airport before my flight. He was freaking out, about to go insane over this accident thing. He told me he was willing to do anything to resolve it, so it was the perfect opportunity to make a deal. He told me that if I could make the problem go away, he’d show me how he moves the blocks.”

>   “He said that?”

  “Swear to God.”

  “After selling me on helping you with this project, you pull this stupid stunt by trying to pay off Everett for an advantage?”

  “Mo, I knew I could tell you after I had the secret in hand. Look, we won’t make a dime unless we know how he moves those blocks. Resolving this accident for Thane was the perfect leverage for getting him to talk.”

  “Gratitude won’t make Thane reveal anything,” Morana said. “Thane is motivated by fear. Something’s going on with him that has him on edge. By the way, does anyone live with him there?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, why?”

  “I saw some strange things in his house last night.”

  “He let you in? He never lets me go inside.”

  “I had to use pressure. I needed the bathroom.”

  “What did you see?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get back. Speaking of that, when are you coming back?”

  “It’ll be a few more days. I’ve decided to sell my house out here in LA.”

  “You’re kidding. You’re moving to Florida—permanently?”

  “According to you, it will be worth it. I can stay in the corporate apartment for as long as I need to while I find a new place to buy. I thought about it on the flight. California has become too weed-friendly, eroding my profits,” Clay cleared his throat, “market share. Plus, I don’t want the hassle of getting licensed, so for me, the house’s equity offers more cash.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “I already have three offers.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “If we are as successful as you predict, I’ll be able to buy a much bigger house, right?”

  “Only if you quit interfering with my plan for Thane—a plan that will work.”

  Chapter 11

  AFTER PICKING UP food from The Dragon’s Nest the next evening, Morana parked on the street a half block from Thane’s house. She wore denim shorts and a white tank top. She carried the food sacks containing Thane’s “usual” order and her own selections.

  When she came to the garage door, she noticed that it was already ajar. A note taped on the doorknob read, Come in, Mo.

  She sidestepped in to avoid bumping the sacks and stopped on the golden lock entry rug.

  Before she could close the door, Gus ran outside.

  “Thane?”

  He stood from behind his block desk on the other side of the garage.

  “I’m sorry, Gus ran out when I opened the door,” she said.

  “That’s okay. He needed to go out.”

  Morana said. “I have dinner.” She held up the food. “Shall we go eat in the house?” She tilted her head toward it.

  “No,” Thane said, coming to her. He took one of the sacks of food.

  “I’m leaving my phone right here in the bowl.” Morana dropped it in with an exaggerated gesture.

  “Thanks.” Thane headed back to his work block.

  Before Morana followed, she glanced down at the chair where she had left her clutch with the micro-camera. The magazines were still stacked on the seat, and the jacket draped over the back, but the clutch was gone. If Thane had moved it immediately after her last visit, there was no way the lipstick camera could have captured any footage of Thane working.

  “I’ve set the table for us,” he said, placing the sacks of food on the floor beside the block.

  “Where?” Morana said, looking around.

  Thane pointed up.

  Above them, a large rock slab the width of a dining room table was hoisted to within inches of the ceiling.

  “Please move to that carpet,” Thane said, pointing to a green throw rug a few steps away. She sidestepped to it, trying to keep her eyes on the suspended block. “What is that?”

  A faint hum began, and the slab smoothly descended with no sway. It came to rest on the work block, using it as the foundation. Once in place, the slab became a table and already held two place settings with silverware, pressed and folded cloth napkins and wine glasses.

  Thane stood by with his hands tucked into his pockets, and he wore a satisfied expression, watching Morana grin as she took in the scene. He walked around the table, gently unclipping a thin, barely-visible wire from the corner of the slab.

  “What is that?” Morana asked.

  Thane only smiled as he let go of the wire and it retracted into a small black box between the open ceiling beams. He dragged a nearby chair to the table, opposite his chair. “Please sit,” he said, motioning for her to step closer.

  Morana didn’t press him for an answer. She came to the table and spread her hands on it. “This is beautiful.”

  “Thank you. Let’s eat,” he said, pulling the sacks from the floor and placing them on the edge of the table.

  Morana took a seat, unable to remove the grin from her face.

  They began opening the food containers, and after looking inside a couple of them, Thane froze, staring at them and then at the remaining sacks they had yet to open.

  “Is the order okay?” Morana asked.

  Thane looked inside each of the other containers, he said, “It’s the wrong order.”

  “Oh, no,” Morana stood up. “I just told them to give me your usual order. I’m so sorry—I’ll go back.”

  “No, it’s not your fault. I have two usuals.”

  Morana tilted her head. “Pardon?”

  “They gave you the order I place for my uncle.”

  Morana said, “I have to admit I was surprised by the amount of food. I was looking forward to watching you finish it. Why would they give me your uncle’s order, if I told them it was for you?”

  “I take him food from Dragon’s Nest every week—sometimes twice.”

  “You deliver it to him?”

  “Every Thursday.”

  “That’s why the owner told me I was late for it,” Morana said.

  “They know that I need my uncle’s order by 6:00 PM.”

  “Why?”

  “Never mind, it’s okay. This order has more food than we can eat.” Thane opened another food container.

  Morana stared at him until he finally noticed.

  “What?” he said.

  “Why do you get food for your uncle?”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I only ask because ordering delivery would be so easy for him.”

  “I told you I don’t mind,” Thane snapped.

  Morana held up her hands, “I’m sorry.”

  Thane handed her a plate and utensils.

  They served themselves food from the cartons. Thane slurped noodles loudly enough to make Morana stop chewing. She chalked up the etiquette-lapse to the rarity of dining with guests. She said, “You know you are adorable when you get flustered.”

  Thane blushed and stopped chewing, fighting a smile. He held up a finger and after swallowing said, “You’re pretty all the time.”

  “Thank you, Thane!”

  “You’re welcome.” He stared at his plate for a few moments, then said, “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

  Morana served herself more noodles. “I’m all ears.”

  “I received some good news today. Maybe it was because of you.”

  “Well, if it’s good news, I hope so!”

  “But I don’t know how you could have done it so quickly.” He pulled a folded envelope from his pocket and handed it across the table to her. “This was taped to the front door of the house this morning.”

  While Morana opened and unfolded the letter, Thane rubbed his hands together, then clasped them as he watched her lips moving while she silently read the letter, line by line.

  She read the final sentence aloud. “… After further examination of the vehicle incident on the sixteenth of May… we are releasing you from any liability for damages in the vehicle collision—Thane, this is wonderful!”

  “A
re you responsible for this?” Thane asked.

  “The honest answer is… probably.”

  “How?”

  “I did contact Everett Paige. I was able to convince him to meet me in person. And we did discuss his claim and the situation it has put you in. I simply emphasized the futility of pursuing you for money and explained several ways his aggression could end up being a losing proposition for everyone involved.”

  “You make it sound simple.”

  Morana said, “Much like the way you lift these blocks, it’s not difficult if you know what to do.”

  Thane laughed. “Fair enough.”

  “Sometimes reaching out to someone in person can make all the difference. I find that nonverbal, face-to-face communication is so much more powerful than letters.”

  “Thank you, for helping me,” Thane said, taking the letter back from her. He carefully folded it, tucked it back into the envelope and held it up to the light as if to make sure it was still inside. He took it to a drawer and slid it under some other papers. On his way back to the table, he said, “Your reaction to the letter is better than Clay’s,” Thane said.

  Morana stopped. “Clay knows?”

  “He’s been calling a lot. Today he called right after I found the letter.”

  “Really?” Morana forced a smile.

  “Yes. When I told him about it, he only said, ‘good for you.’ That’s it. I guess the two of you haven’t been talking because he wanted to know if you knew.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him you were still trying to help me, but I didn’t know if you knew about the letter.”

  “Clay can be unpredictable,” Morana said. “I wouldn’t worry about his lack of enthusiasm.”