My Sister's Fear

by T. J. Jones

  "No Daddy, don't let Mommy drive, she'll kill us all!" Jasmine pleaded from the back seat.

  Maggie smiled over at me. "She is annoying sometimes, isn't she?"

  Maggie took the controls and turned us north. Contrary to what Jasmine had hinted at, Maggie brought the Piper down without so much as a bump. She had been flying half her life, piloting her father down to Miami before his untimely death. That's what happens to people that are involved with kidnapping and child prostitution, they die suddenly. Maggie didn't know all the details and she hadn't asked.

  She didn't know about her uncle either, the man she knew as Diablo Blanco. She and I had learned of his exploits from a young immigrant woman who had been brutalized at his hands. Little did we know at the time that the Diablo that had locked Rosalyn Cabello in a dog kennel, was in fact Gary Jeffries, come back to life. As far as Maggie and her sister knew their uncle Gary had died in a plane crash in the Everglades a little over four years ago. The truth was that he had faked his death and continued to brutalize young girls until he went into the witness protection program. There was a lot I hadn't told the sisters, and I couldn't see any reason to share some of the things I knew. There were too many bad memories as it was.

  When I was a junior in high school, I had finally put on some muscle and used it to knock Tommy Ackerman into Angela's pool for calling Davey Templeton a name. Davey was gay and my best friend. Mostly I just hit Tommy because he was an ass, and I had gotten big enough to do it. I liked to think I had evolved in the last twenty years, but that didn't mean Tommy couldn't go back in the pool if he didn't behave himself.

  Jasmine had driven us over to the airport and she dropped me off at my house, then she and Maggie headed over to Point Road and the Jeffries' house. Point Road was lined with big houses, Estates, and a few old plantations with structures that qualified as mansions in anyone's neighborhood. Most of the houses were on the Saint Johns River and had docks and boats and the occasional seaplane. I had spent some time on the water as a kid with Davey and quite a bit of it was in a seaplane. The remainder of my adolescence was spent desperately trying to have sex with Angela Jeffries, my current girlfriend's sister.

  Maggie had the PI bug, and a romanticized idea of what that meant. I had told her just enough about Davey's death to let her think that her half-brother had died a hero while trying to stop a group of child slavers. It was mostly true, but I hadn't shared the fact that her father had been involved. Considering the abuse he had subjected her older sister to, she wasn't likely to care that I had been part of the chain of events that led to his suicide. But she was nobody's fool and she had to know I had been right in the thick of things. For now, if she didn't ask, I wouldn’t tell. I hoped she would never have to know everything her father had done.

  Finding out the circumstances of Davey's death had been important, and it shed light on people who I knew should be spending their life in prison. Maybe someday I'd have a chance to even that score. If it was up to me, a one-way trip to the Everglades seemed like justice, considering the way Davey had died. Child-molesters make great alligator bait. I know thoughts like that aren't a sign of evolution, but I'm working on it.

  Everyone has had the experience of seeing something you remember from childhood and thinking how small and unimpressive it looked once you were an adult. I was pretty sure Tommy Ackerman would look that way to me. The raucous teenager had repeatedly slammed me on the side of the head with his Geology book in middle school and had consequently landed in Angela's pool with a bloody nose our Junior year. But I was right, Tommy wasn't intimidating anymore. I might have been smug about that fact, had he not been sitting in that wheelchair. That was something my "serious girlfriend" hadn't bothered to mention to me.

  "Eric Slater!" He spun his chair around when I walked into the dining room and greeted me like we were old friends, holding out a hand that I shook. "Been years and years."

  "Yeah, high school, right?"

  "Heard you got twenty in in the Navy, and Angela tells me now you and Maggie have started your own Detective Agency? But I'm being rude, this is my wife, Camille."

  Camille was a tall, lithesome black woman that stood quickly and held out her hand, smiling warmly. "Tom was telling me stories about you Mr. Slater. He told me you gave him a much-needed attitude adjustment during high school." Tommy laughed the loudest, so I took that to mean he didn't hold a grudge.

  I did my best to look sorry. "Too much testosterone at that age I'm afraid, not my finest moment. I never apologized Tommy, so, sorry about that."

  He waved a hand. "I deserved it; I was a little prick back then. Just one more bump on the way to being a grownup. I got drunk and totaled my car a couple years after law school and landed in this chair, so that was a big life lesson. But Camille stuck by me and it woke me up to what's really important in life. I'm alive and healthy otherwise, so things could be a lot worse."

  Angela Jeffries pointed at a chair and I sat down as she handed me a cold beer, then excused herself and went into the kitchen. Maggie and Jasmine came in and found their chairs, laughing at some private joke.

  "Angela insisted that she was going to do the meal, and we can't help." Maggie explained. "Seems like she has things under control. Rosa helped her before she left, so at least we won't be poisoned."

  "She was telling us a little bit about things, how difficult it's been, with Davey and Frank both passing away so close together." Tommy said cautiously. "I'm so sorry about your father, Maggie. How is your Mom handling it?"

  "She's out, girls' night. She's really loosened up since Dad died and everything came to light." Maggie nodded. "I don't really want to talk about my Dad, if that's alright."

  "Of course, I've been helping Angela with the estate and we had a long talk about all that. I'm glad she's seeing a therapist and getting some help." Tommy said, then turned back to me. "So Eric, I understand you and Maggie are working together, and you're licensed Private Investigators?"

  "I'm his apprentice." Maggie said quickly. "He's the one with the license."

  "I had some experience during my time in the Navy, and Maggie is really intuitive, so I guess we make a good team." I said. "But really, I can't say that it's more than a part-time thing. The business with Davey, that was important to me. But I'm not interested in catching cheating husbands or busting people trying to scam their insurance companies."

  "Angela suggested I talk to you. I'm not looking for a detective for my law firm, Eric, it's more of a personal matter."

  "Better call him Slater, Tommy." Angela said, carrying in trays of food. "He thinks it's terribly sexy, or maybe that's just my sister."

  "Okay, Slater it is." Tommy grinned and glanced between us. "You and Maggie, you're more than just business partners?"

  "Oh hell yes!" Jasmine jumped in.

  "This is Jasmine, Maryanne Thatcher's granddaughter." Angela made the introductions. "Maggie and Slater rescued her from a situation and now she pretty much lives with us." She poked Jasmine's shoulder and laughed.

  "Actually Angela, Jasmine and I have met a few times. She delivered some files to my office for her grandmother. I've done quite a bit of work for Maryanne and her charity. She's a very generous woman."

  "She puts up with me, so she must be." Jasmine nodded. "I shouldn't talk about these two but they keep dancing around the good stuff, and I'm getting bored with it. Get a room already."

  Maggie scowled in her direction. "Slater and I are going out, and that's all I'm saying about that. If Jasmine knows what's good for her, that's all she saying too."

  "And I don't get any of the details." Angela said. "I'm just the big sister."

  I was getting tired of being talked about. "Alright, Tommy, Camille, is this something we can talk about over supper, or should we discuss it later, privately."

  "It might be best if you and Maggie could come to my office, if that works for you. I have some files there that we could go over. We need to do something soon, maybe Monday? I mostly just wa
nted Camille to meet you and Maggie, and get a sense of who you are. It's a sensitive family issue, and we both want someone we can trust, and someone with an open mind. It's complicated."

  "Complicated is our specialty." Maggie piped up. "That should be our slogan, Slater."

  "Oh shit!" Jasmine blurted out suddenly, staring down at her phone.

  "Come on, Blue." I admonished her. "We're trying to act like professionals."

  She looked up at Maggie and I. "Bad news guys, my Mom is coming to town."

  Chapter Three

  The next day Maggie and I drove down the manicured lane that lead to the Thatcher Estate. Given the opportunity, I would have been anywhere else, but Maggie insisted that as Jasmine's friends it was our obligation to be supportive. I'm not a big fan of being obligated to do things, I'd had enough of that in the Navy. There, obligations weren't something you knew you should do, they were something you did or paid the consequences. This didn't feel that much different, but I had to admit I was curious about Jasmine's mother, the legendary Divine Thatcher, porn star turned internet investment guru.

  A hundred feet from the huge white pillars that pretended to hold up the overhang of the Thatcher mansion was a small barn, bright red with white trim. A tall wooden fence wound its way across the small pasture where half a dozen horses were grazing; show-ponies for the idle rich to admire as they drove in. Jasmine was sitting on top of the fence with her toes hooked into the second row of the bright white boards. She waved at us listlessly, then turned her attention back to the horses.

  We got out of the car and walked over to her as three of the horses trotted in our direction. I recognized the leader, a particularly mean mare that had tried to rip my fingers off during a previous visit. I called out a warning. "Jasmine, that horse is a biter!"

  She glanced back and grinned as the three horses crowded into the corner. "Slater, you’re the one that told me I should learn to ride. Dolly just needed attention, she loves me."

  "She loves human flesh." I said. As if aware that I was talking about her, the mare started fighting with the other two horses, biting and kicking at them until they relented and trotted off into the pasture. Then, surprisingly, she ran up to Jasmine and dropped her head between her knees. Maggie climbed up onto the fence and sat next to Jasmine and joined in stroking the mare. Convinced the nag had been domesticated, I started to climb onto the fence. I don't think horses can growl, but I swear that one did and reached out with her mouth open.

  "Dolly, no!" Jasmine called loudly, and the damn horse actually listened like a well-trained canine. I climbed carefully up on the fence and Dolly tucked her head back between Jasmine's knees, willing to ignore me as long as the girl continued scratching her ears. Still, I kept a wary eye on the Crowbait the whole time we talked and caught it glaring back at me more than once.

  "What are you doing out here?" Maggie asked. "Isn't your Mom here?"

  "We're still having brunch, right? I skipped breakfast." I was hungry.

  "Mom's here with her dipshit boyfriend. She and Maryanne are having a discussion, or a fight, I guess. Mom has the idea that she's going to drag me back to New York, which isn't going to happen. I won't go and Maryanne isn't going to let her take me. I'll hit the road again before I ever move to New York with her."

  "Don't think you'll find another idiot like Cletus, you better stick around." It was a poor joke.

  "If I want to go, I sure as hell don't need a man." Jasmine snapped. It was as mad as I'd ever seen her, at me anyway.

  "Of course you don't, you're all of seventeen. Lie about your age and join the Navy, I highly recommend it." I nodded seriously.

  She slapped my shoulder and giggled, the anger quickly forgotten. Dolly's ears came forward and I couldn't tell if it was jealousy or maternal instinct; either way I kept one eye on her.

  "Your grandmother isn't going to let her take you, and you have school coming up." Maggie interjected. "Your old enough to be emancipated if you have to."

  "She wants me to meet my father."

  "Really!" Maggie seemed surprised and I was confused.

  "I didn't know you had one." I blurted out.

  Jasmine laughed. "You see Slater, there's this big cabbage patch, and…"

  "Alright, I've heard that story. What I meant was, considering her lifestyle, and her job, you know."

  "You mean, maybe my Mom was such a big slut she didn't know who the father was?"

  "That's not what I meant. Okay, it was. You've never met him before?"

  "No. He lives in Los Angeles and he knew I existed and everything, but he married someone else and didn't want it to be weird. My Mom is a control freak and didn't want him being a bad influence on me."

  "But she let you hang around with a thirty-six year old meth head?"

  Maggie leaned forward and glared at me. "Hey PI, stop talking! So maybe that's all it is, Jaz, she thinks that you should meet this guy."

  "Maybe, but if it goes well, she wants me to go to LA. Turns out I have a sister. I didn't expect to ever meet my father, now I find out I have a sister? My Dad's wife is cool with me meeting her, but they want me to decide first, before they tell the girl about it. She's twelve, so they didn't want to tell her, then have me not show up."

  "Jasmine, when did you find out about all this?" Maggie asked.

  "My Mom and I talked last night, about the visit, not about me moving to New York. I think she figured I'd get all excited about the sister thing and then spring the move on me. She said it this morning, like it was a done deal. I'd love to meet my half-sister but I don't care either way about my Dad. He could have come to see me anytime, right? I'm not living in New York, that is for sure. I like it here. I have you guys, Gram, Dolly." The horse's ears came forward and she sighed comfortably when Jasmine renewed her scratching. "And I even met a guy."

  "Oh man, I knew this was going to happen." I grimaced. "That sounds like trouble."

  Jasmine laughed again. "He works at the Safeway as a bagboy and he's sweet. More importantly he's my age. In case you've forgotten Slater, I spent six weeks with a middle-aged biker, I'm not some innocent virgin. I've been around the block a time or two."

  "I'm not talking about any of this, and I don't want to hear any more about it." I crossed my arms for effect. She made a face at me, and I continued. "When will you find time to date, you're always with us?"

  "See, if I spend time with Jessie, you and Maggie can have some much needed alone time."

  "We're taking it slow, like I told you." Maggie said quickly.

  "Slow? It's been a month, aren't you getting horny?" Jasmine shook her head. "You're both healthy adults. I know you're old as dirt Slater, but Maggie is hot, you have to get after it already!"

  I didn't need any convincing, but it wasn't that simple. "Hey, I'm not that old and slow is good. You're seventeen, you should be taking it slow with this Jessie guy too. Very, very, slow."

  She rolled her eyes. "You two are ridiculous. Let's go in, you can meet my Mom. Luckily her boyfriend went into town, he's disgusting."

  Divine Thatcher wasn't what I expected. During long deployments I will admit to watching an occasional erotic movie. Okay, it was porn. Fortunately, Divine had never been featured in any of them, but I was aware of her reputation, both as a porn star and as an internet blogger with hundreds of thousands of followers. There was talk of a television show. I'd seen pictures, publicity shots that were obviously trying to take advantage of her notoriety to promote her current gig. In those, she just looked like a porn star with glasses, sometimes sitting in front of a computer with a low-cut dress that showed too much cleavage and plenty of leg.

  The real woman was plain looking at first glance. She wore a plaid cotton shirt, blue jeans and sneakers, pretty standard wear for Florida in the winter. She stood and reached out a hand when Jasmine introduced us. When I got close, I was struck by how tiny she was, and by the fact that I could have ever thought she was plain looking. Close up, her face looked like an artist's
rendition of beauty. Her cheekbones were impossibly high, her jaw angular and sharp, her lips full and sensual, made more so by a delicate nose and eyes that were an undefinable shade of green. The baggy clothes did little to hide a perfect figure or disguise the vague scent of some intoxicating perfume that I realized may have simply been pheromones. It occurred to me that I was staring and I glanced nervously at Maggie, but she was staring too.

  "Jasmine has told me so many wonderful things about you both, and about that horrible Cletus person shooting at you and wounding you Maggie. I had no idea he was such an ass, you must think I'm a terrible mother for allowing her to ride with him. My god, I'm so glad you're alright. Is it healed?"

  "I'm fine, no permanent damage, just some muscle pain and a bit of a scar. I'm back to running ten miles every morning."

  "Really, I'd love to go with you while I'm here. But you have those wonderfully long legs, no doubt you'd leave me in the dust."

  "It would be one way to get Slater to show up." Okay, she had noticed me staring. "He's been skipping out on our morning runs lately."

  She raised a brow. "You might need to let him sleep at night, but that's no fun, right?"

  "Mom! One minute and you're already talking about sex, give it a rest." Jasmine complained.

  "Sex and money Jasmine, that's what makes the world go around." She threw her head back and laughed. "I'm considered an expert in both fields."

  "I don't know if I'd brag about that." Jasmine put in.

  "Good one, Jaz." Divine laughed loudly again, but it was quick and her eyes narrowed a little. She was putting on a show for us and that had hurt her.

  "Divine, cut the crap, it's all decided." Maryanne Thatcher took over, dismissing the chit-chat with a wave of her hand. She looked every bit the powerful woman who had built a fracking company from scratch and owned sizable chunks of North and South Dakota. She was used to calling the shots, and she wasn't about to let that change. She pulled her glasses off and slid them into her silver blond hair, then pushed a small stack of papers across the mahogany surface and tossed a pen on top of them. "This is what we talked about this morning. I had it drawn up last week because I saw this coming, sign it."