“I’m Lolita. Some call me a fortune teller. I like to think of myself as a white witch.”
Jack backed up a step. “The Church of Set?”
Her mouth widened into a big, toothy grin. “Naw, man, I’m on the good team. I know your past, Jackson Walker, and your run-in with the Devil Spawn. I didn’t ask you here to scare you. Come in.” She gestured for them to follow her into the candlelit room.
Entering the room felt like walking into a Moroccan opium den, minus the drug paraphernalia. Large, overstuffed pillows surrounded a small round table in the center, behind which sat an ancient chair. Incense burned in several locations. In front of the table sat a single small stool. Lolita motioned for Janie to sit amongst the pillows, and for Jack to sit in the spot provided.
Once seated, she looked at Jack. “Are you afraid of the occult, Jackson? You look apprehensive.”
“I don’t know what to think, ma’am. Part of me sees the power Henrietta LePley held over others. She was a very strong-willed individual, with a knack for getting her own way. The psychic angle makes me more skeptical, but the old woman, once she looked you in the eyes, seemed to catch hold of you in a way that could not be easily broken. It happened to me twice. I became powerless and couldn’t say no to her.”
Lolita nodded as if he wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know.
“Here’s the root of it for me. My grandfather says there is no such thing as coincidence. I, on the other hand, do believe in it. You can talk your way into believing anything, if that’s what you choose to do. I spend most of my time talking myself out of the whole thing. So, I choose not to believe.” He took a long breath after his diatribe.
She nodded. “Then why did you come?” She let the words hang.
Jack pondered her question. “It seems this stuff follows me around, and I don’t like it. I came here to see what you have to say and debunk it and tell you to stop bugging me. I have enough of you people telling me I’m strong with the spirits, blah, blah, blah. I’m sick of it. Maybe I’m on a mission.”
Lolita frowned. “I’m not here to bug you, Jackson. You’re free to walk out of here right now. Why don’t you just leave, then?”
Part of what Jack stated was bravado. There existed a speck of belief in his mind, not much more—though enough to not want to leave. “Okay, lay it on me.”
She nodded. “It’s not very often that a witch or medium seeks out another because of her dreams and subsequent readings. My advice to you tonight is free and, I might add, only because I saw myself entangled with the outcome of your plight. I will only say it once, as I know you don’t like to hear it, but I have not seen anyone as strong with the power as you. You radiate psychic ability. If you learned to channel the power, I can only wonder.”
“What? Please don’t!” Jack exclaimed.
Janie chuckled at Jack’s reaction. “Have you been told this before?”
Jack lowered his eyes. “Gramps says I’m like a magnet for this shit, just like you did.”
“He’s correct, and that’s a good way of looking at it. Your grandfather is the spirit talker from the Everglades?”
“That’s what they call him.”
“I would like to meet this man one day.”
Jack squirmed a bit in his seat. “Okay, so what’s got me entwined with you, Lolita? What could be so important you had to track me down?”
“A dream. It appeared two-pronged, which is how these things go most of the time. I saw my death and I saw yours. Now, before you say anything, there will be events that could change. Depending on those events, it will lead to only one of our demises. Do you follow?”
“Nope.” He crossed his arms.
“You’ll have to choose to believe or not believe.” She pulled out an ancient-looking deck of cards from a small drawer in the table. “I verified the vision by consulting with the tarot.”
“Great.”
“There will be a battle.”
Jack blew a deep breath out between his teeth. Janie sat on the edge of her overstuffed pillow, looking up at the large black woman, entranced.
“As much as you don’t want to hear it, the Dark Lord will be involved. His presence is strong. I don’t tell you this lightly. You are a lawyer, correct?”
“If we’ve gotten this far, you know that I damn well am.”
“You have been given your first big case?”
Jack and Janie looked at each other in disbelief.
“It’s all intertwined. You have a knowing look, Jackson. Is there something you’re not telling me?” She focused her large dark eyes on his.
“Maybe sorta. Why is it that you occult people all call me Jackson, not Jack?”
Lolita smiled. “If you were so lucky as to be named Chris, we’d call you Christopher. Your formal name brings a little more seriousness to the equation. Your grandfather calls you Jackson, correct?”
“Yep.”
“Grandparents almost always use a grandchild’s formal name. We are the same. A person’s true name holds more power. As they grow older, they cling to whatever power they might have over you. It’s an unconscious act.”
“Okay, I can possibly see that.”
She shifted, the wood of the chair groaning. “Something relating to your case will be deathly dangerous to both of us. I can’t for the life of me see why I might be involved, but I will be.”
“You asked me if there was something I wasn’t telling you.”
“Yes.”
“Gramps said the same thing to me a week ago, but not so . . . specifically.”
Lolita’s brows rose. “I need to meet this man. This is a strong coincidence, Jackson. Do you choose to ignore it?”
Jack sat in silence before he asked, “So, what are you sayin’? What am I supposed to do about this shit?”
“I can’t tell you that, but I’d like to read your cards.” She handed him the deck. He almost recoiled but accepted the tarot. “They will not bite you. Shuffle them please and place them on the table. Cut the cards to the left and flip over the top card.”
The Queen of Pentacles turned.
“The Queen of Pentacles represents a warmhearted woman. As a friend, she can provide practical support in a crisis. Is there such a woman, Jackson?”
He looked at Janie.
“Cut the cards again, please.”
The next card came up as the Page of Cups inverted.
“Jack, you or someone close could be suffering from bad dreams or nebulous intuitions that are difficult to comprehend. This represents the present. The next card will be unknown influences.”
The Sun inverted turned up.
“You will experience failure of some kind. Doubts surround your future plans. Vanity and arrogance are probable blocks to your success. The next card indicates the future.”
He cut the cards and flipped the top card. The Devil appeared.
Lolita recoiled. “The Devil has appeared twice now, Jackson. Once relates to devilish circumstances; twice is serious.”
“What do you mean twice?”
Lolita chose her words carefully. “After my vision, as I told you, I performed a reading. The Devil came up. The card that comes up in a reading can have a very nebulous meaning all on its own. The cards that come up around them can have deeper meanings. To have the same card come up twice in the same position means it should be taken seriously.” She looked at him like a grade-school teacher about to scold her student. “Jackson, I can tell by your body language and what you say that you do not take the occult seriously. Is this because you truly don’t believe, or are you posturing?”
Jack shrugged off the question.
“I sense your apprehension. I ask only because you are strong with the spirits. Sorry to say it again, but you do need to claim or show some responsibility here.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Is there anything else that you need to tell me?”
Janie interrupted, “You’re being a bit too macho for my liking, Jack
. Do you believe in what Gramps says?”
“Coincidences, most of them. Flipping the same card twice. That can happen. I’m willing to take your premonitions more seriously than a bunch of crazy cards. I really can’t see how they would work. You’re just flipping them over.”
“Ha!” exclaimed Lolita. “That’s where you’re wrong, Jackson Walker. You are the one doing the flipping. The tarot are very powerful. They are a medium’s link to the spirits. It’s not by chance that a card turns up. They tell a story which is linked to the querent—you, the person who is the target of the reading. I’ve owned these same cards since I was seven years old. They are part of me. They never leave my person. I would never let another witch or medium use them. Believe me, they tell the truth. Sometimes they speak in riddles, and they need to be deciphered. But on occasion they present a very strong position. Jackson . . . you need to beware of the Devil. It may not be the Devil himself, as he would never do that. Beware of his disciples.”
“Mason Matye.” Jack said the words without thinking and immediately regretted them.
Janie couldn’t hold her tongue. “That’s the guy you had the bust-up with back at the McFadden estate. The Church of Satan guy.”
Jack squeezed his eyes shut, unhappy now that the cat seemed well out of the bag.
“Who is this Mason?” Lolita prodded him.
Jack slid back in his seat, folding his hands behind his head. “Mason Matye used to be the head of the Church of Satan in the Southern United States. He was affiliated with Henrietta LePley before she died.”
“A powerful woman.”
“Nasty old bitch.”
“Come now, Jackson. As we’ve already discussed, she was a very powerful witch. Her family, very powerful in Southwest Florida and within the GOP.”
“Your point?”
“Within the occult, it is bad karma to not offer respect for those that are strong in the power. True, she was evil to the core, but I will always revere the influence she once exuded. Now, Mason Matye?”
“Gramps told me he envisioned him escaping from prison this past week.”
“And you don’t believe what’s been presented to you? If you are a dumb fool, I can do nothing for you. If my fat ass weren’t tied to you somehow, I’d send you on your merry way right now, no more questions asked,” Lolita scolded him.
Janie asked, “So, what can we make of this?”
Lolita blew through her lips as she pondered the question. “You can choose to ignore what I’ve said this evening, or you can heed my warnings. I would ideally like to keep in touch with you. You need my help. I saw it in my dream.” She handed Jack her business card. “My cell number is here. Call me, text me if you run into something beyond your scope of understanding—any other coincidence.” She smiled. “You will know when. I know you will!”
“I can agree to that.” Jack saw no harm in placating the woman, figuring the best way to get her out of his life would be to agree with her and never contact her again.
Lolita stood. “Good. Then we can say that we have an understanding?”
“If that’s what you want to call it.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A TRAINED KILLER LEARNED to be patient or he didn’t remain in the profession for long. Boris sat in the passenger’s seat of the BMW 7 Series sedan, his eyes intent on the front door of the law office of Robertson and Robertson. He looked at Leo, his much younger protégé. The young man was his sister’s son, just arrived from Russia four months prior. Boris spoke matter-of-factly to his nephew.
“First rule, Leo, you never cross your boss. I don’t think that I need to be told when to pull the trigger, but Eli tells me when. Never pull the trigger unless you’re told; Eli has his reasons. You cross your boss, you end up dead. It could be Eli, whoever. The consequences for fucking up . . . most often are deadly.”
The young blond man nodded. Leo worked for a tough group back in Russia—drug dealers and all that went with drug dealing. His mother thought it wiser to send him to the States to work for her brother in order to keep him out of trouble. If she only knew. Boris found pleasure in Leo’s good attitude, always willing to listen and learn. Thus far, Boris more than willingly gave the young man his time. He owed it to his older sister, who’d raised him.
Leo looked at Boris. “Who do we take first?”
“We haven’t decided whether or not Walker will live. It depends how much rope his boss gives him. If they back off after we take out Lopez, then we leave him alone. I suspect it will be the end of our work here.” Boris spotted Leo’s impatience. “We get paid well. Your little whore will be waiting for you when we get back to Tampa. Cool yourself. We could be here for a few days.”
Leo sighed deeply. “She’s not a whore.”
Boris laughed, “If she works for Eli, she’s a whore. She’s just sucking your fat cock to get on the good side of Eli, don’t you forget it. While we’re down here in Ft. Myers, she’s sucking someone else’s cock. They all do. They need the cash to buy their blow. If she’s gone when we get back, we’ll find another. They’re lined up for you from what I hear.”
Leo smiled. “Yes, Uncle.”
“Good. Now we sit . . . and we wait.”
****
Peter Robertson hung up the phone and looked across the desk at Janie and Jack. “As you could probably tell, that was my contact out in LA. They were able to confirm that City Star Productions are not the type of people you want to get tied in with. They’re the worst of the worst, and own the market in darker end pornography. They’re basically untraceable, moving their headquarters on a near daily basis, and own hundreds of thousands of IP addresses. Some say they are based in the Czech Republic, others say Bosnia, possibly China.”
Janie said, “So we’re not going to get anything from them.”
“No. It’s one of those cross-border things. There are no international laws that have big enough teeth to bring them in. The heat gets too hot in one locale, they switch hemispheres. They have feeder sources all over the globe, including amateur, mid-level and professional production companies. I’m also told they double as a policing entity within the porn industry. Evidently, they pay well. But if you start doing things that could affect them adversely, in any way, you pay the price.”
Jack sat back, wiping sweat off his brow. He hadn’t been feeling well—probably something he ate. “So, these Russians in Tampa . . . where do they fit in?”
“Somewhere between mid-level and professional,” Peter guessed.
“They’re making the kiddie porn?”
“Who knows? They did get their hands on it, which says something. They probably create some of their own smut but have numerous low-level suppliers. Child porn, from what my sources say, is homespun. No one wants to get caught producing it professionally.”
“Makes sense. So our client, Robert, he’s a middleman between, say, the Russians and City Star Productions?” Jack said, trying to sort out the pieces.
“Exactly. He’s a smut merchant. Dirty as all get-out.”
Janie exclaimed, “So it’s realistic to say Robert Lopez could have this sort of dirty pornography passed through him on a regular basis?”
Peter nodded. “But he got caught.”
“So where does that leave us?” Jack wanted to know.
“We could file for a subpoena and have the Russians’ computers checked,” Peter said.
Jack felt his jaw. “Yes. And I’d be making another enemy. I think I was lucky to escape with a sore mouth. So, these City Productions guys get away with this shit and so do the Russians. Our client goes to prison. I have a good picture of things, but something doesn’t add up. Do you get the feeling we’re getting played by Lopez?”
Janie nodded. “I do. But is that such a bad thing, Lopez getting incarcerated? One less scumbag on the street. I think we should cut him loose.”
A slight knock turned their heads. Steff poked her head in to announce, “Your client’s here.”
“Sp
eaking of scumbags. Show him in, please,” Peter smiled.
Robert Lopez entered as Jack rose to greet him, offering his hand. “Mr. Lopez. Please have a seat.”
“Robert, please.” He sat, crossing his right leg over his left.
Jack nodded.
Lopez offered a sly smile. “Well, will we be working together, Jackson?”
Jack paused, carefully choosing his words. “I think we might be able to, but not with the current information you’ve given us. Janie and I visited your friend, Eli Romanov, the other day. Though they claim to have no connection to you, just the mention of your name got me beaten up a little.” Again, he ran his hand across his sore jaw.
“Yes, they can be most inhospitable, those old-world thugs.”
Peter interjected, “I’ve checked out City Star Productions. They’re a slippery bunch as well. You don’t keep very good company, Robert.” The attorney focused his glare on the man.
Lopez nodded. “I didn’t give you very much, did I? I’ve been able to access some more useful intel since we last met.” He unzipped a computer bag. “Here are my invoices for the past two years.” He handed the pile across the attorney’s desk. “They’re billed to a numbered company. The number changes monthly and has never been the same since we’ve been doing business.”
“Why haven’t you done the same?” Peter asked, leafing through the statements. “I see you bill from Lopez Investments Inc.”
“Yes, and each invoice corresponds to the appropriate video file. You may not like what I do, Mr. Robertson, but it is perfectly legal. I have nothing to hide. Now, on the other hand, these bastards are crooked. Why else would they go through the bother of hiding what they do? They’re only one of my many suppliers. I have corresponding files for all of my transactions. They can all be correlated with times the files were uploaded to my clients’ computers.”
Peter nodded. “So, let’s be frank. How often does this kind of stuff cross your desk? I mean the taboo stuff.”
Robert paused as if calculating. “A lot of it is about the tag you put on it. You’ve got some guy screwing a young girl. You put the tag on it: ‘Stepbrother fucks sister.’ They aren’t related, but it’s the psychological aspect of most porn these days that sells. That’s what I do. I’m the king of tag lines. Guys need more than just the visual these days to jerk off.”
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