Gramps heard his keeper place something down, probably on the metal table in the room next door. He listened closely. Footsteps approached. He took a deep breath as they stopped at the door. He heard the jingling of keys and then the opening of a padlock. The door opened. The light rushed in and blinded him momentarily.
“How are we doing, old man?” Mason walked over to him. “I’m going to loosen your bonds for a few minutes. I wouldn’t want you dying on me needlessly.” He bent to cut the duct tape and loosened the knots binding his feet, lowering them to the ground.
If the gag had allowed it, Gramps would have screamed in pain as the blood flow returned to his feet, stabbing like a knife. The same stabbing sensation occurred when his hands were freed. Mason left the rope in place, much looser.
“I suppose you would like some food and water.” Mason savagely pulled the duct tape off his mouth and pried out the rag with his thumb and forefinger.
Gramps throat was so horribly dry that he couldn’t speak. He tried to croak out a sarcastic comment, but the words wouldn’t happen. He could only look up at his jailor.
Mason dropped a bag on the floor. “I’m not being a very good host.” He reached in and pulled out a bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and offered it to Gramps, who almost felt grateful and was in no position to decline. He nodded and drank the water as Mason held it to his lips. “You were thirsty. You see, we Satanists are not all bad. I thought about leaving you here to rot. It would have been a lot easier than coming back to tend to your needs. Yes, leave you here to wallow in your shit. It’s hot as hell in here. You would dehydrate and die within another day. No one would think to come here to search for you.” He looked back out the doorway. “Why the hell would they?” he laughed. “Speaking of shit, do you have to relieve yourself?”
Gramps croaked, “That would be nice of you.”
Mason took out a wicked knife. “One of Jimmy McFadden’s favorites. Could split you in two in no time. I remember him saying that very same thing from time to time.”
“I can appreciate that, but then you wouldn’t have your bait. Why don’t you just go and look for Jackson? Do you think he’s going to figure out I’m here all on his own? You don’t know my grandson very well if that’s the case.” He shook his head.
Mason laughed. “You are more impatient than I am. You see, I have laid a nasty curse on the young man. I’m waiting until he can no longer function properly, then I will lead him here. There’s no need to hurry. A simple text or phone call will be enough. I’ll give him another day.”
Gramps flushed. Another day would give Jack plenty of time to confront the Russians. Gramps needed to get the nasty Satan lover on the right track. He met Mason’s gaze. “Why are you doing this?”
“Unfinished business, old man.”
Gramps hated being called an old man. “How so?”
Mason laughed lightly, more like a chuckle. “Quite simple, Nathaniel. Revenge. I’m going to kill your grandson to please my savior—kill him because he killed important members of our faith and derailed our plans in South Florida.”
“And thank the heavens for that!”
Mason sneered, looking like he wanted to kick Gramps. “And I was starting to like you, old man.”
Gramps smiled, fueling Mason’s contempt for him. “You sound like a politician. Everything is fine until someone disagrees with you. I’m not afraid of you, Mason. That is your name?” The Satanist’s lack of response verified his assumption. “How’d you get out of prison?”
Mason smiled at the comment. “Let’s suffice it to say we have friends in low places.”
Gramps frowned.
“I’ve been plotting for this day, Nathaniel Portman. Planning for the day when I can make a sacrifice to my Lord worthy of his greatness. I’m sure he will be more than happy to devour both yours and Jack’s souls. Your death”—he looked at Gramps—“will be an appetizer leading up to the main course.” He handed Gramps a sandwich that looked like it had been bought at a convenience store.
Gramps took it into his semi-bound hands and ate it thankfully. He would need to keep up his energy to aid Jackson in defeating the evil that faced him. Even the tiniest deflection might prove helpful.
“Time’s up, Nate. I hope you don’t mind if I call you that. Nathaniel doesn’t resonate well with my French accent.” He tied back Gramps up, this time relying more on the duct tape, which left a little room for circulation. “Let’s sit you up against this pole. I don’t want to kill you too soon by hogtying you like last night.” Mason proceeded to tape him to the pole with several circles around his chest and the stanchion. “Keep well, Nate, as you know I do have plans for you.” Mason took a few pictures with his phone. “A little proof to send Jack.” He smiled and walked out of the room, closing the door, once again leaving Gramps in darkness, despair creeping into his consciousness.
Gramps tried to shake off the dark thoughts and did the only thing possible: He opened himself up to the spirits.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
“YOU ARE NEARLY DEAD,” Susan said, more to herself than to the man two cells over. Robert didn’t move, nor did he respond. “I don’t give you longer than this night.” Again, no response. His chest moved unevenly as if he was in distress. Soon, Boris would be in here cleaning up the mess as she’d seen him do before. She would not spend any more time worrying about Robert Lopez.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
JACK HAD VISITED THE county jail a few times in his youth. He was never in the place himself, but he’d seen the odd friend caught on a minor felony, doing a month or so of soft time. He and Janie posted bail for Solomon Brown. It cost Jack $495, which he swore he’d get out of the . . . man when this was all over.
He left Janie in front to watch over the Jeep. He didn’t trust this neck of the woods. It wasn’t uncommon for cars to be stolen or vandalized close to the prison. He waited in the lounge after presenting the bail bond certificate, vouching for his guarantee that Solomon would return for any courtroom appearances.
The male released into his custody bore little resemblance to Lolita other than his physical size. The man’s head was shaved bald; he—she must have worn a wig. When the burly fellow walked closer, Jack saw that he was, indeed, Lolita. The eyes were unmistakably the same. Green like emeralds.
“Should I call you Solomon or Lolita?” Jack suddenly felt sorry for the person.
“I would prefer Lolita,” she said with masculine femininity. “You would like her better. Solomon is a sad and troubled soul who emerges from time to time. He’s resting now.”
Jack could not help but glance anxiously at Janie when they met up with her. She mirrored the same troubled feelings that he had. The hair on Jack’s neck rose. He swallowed and wondered if he should have left Lolita in the slammer. The whole situation felt creepy as all hell.
Lolita smiled for the first time. “Remember, Jackson, I’m a medium who makes her money off reading people’s faces. The two of you are like open books. Believe me, I do understand your hesitation.”
The two guards standing on either side of the exit stared incredulously as the conversation expanded. When Janie picked up on it she said, “Hey, why don’t we get out of here? We need to talk, but this isn’t the best place.” Both Lolita and Jack nodded. Lolita was handed her belongings, a plastic bag bulging with her large dress, bangles and rings.
****
Lolita sat in the front and Janie in the back as Jack pulled onto Ortiz Avenue. Lolita barely fit into the passenger’s seat. “Would you mind taking me home, darling? I need to freshen up.”
Jack nodded but said, “I don’t get it, Lolita.”
Lolita nodded. “Neither do I, darlin’, but I do know we are tied together in this mess, like it or not.”
Jack shook his head. “Shit!” Jack said in exasperation. “Do I not get a choice in this? I’m getting sick and tired of people telling me I’m mixed up in things for reasons that are not logical. Lolita, please show me some reas
on.”
“There often is no reason where the spirits are concerned. To make matters worse, I feel we are battling good spirits against bad. I told you this when we first met.”
“I have to give you that.” He hesitated and almost smiled. “If we are tied into this, as you say, I need some honesty here. Let me have a crack at putting two and two together.”
“Okay!”
“Why were you arrested?”
Lolita took a deep breath. “Lolita wasn’t arrested. It was Solomon.”
Janie asked, “Are you not Solomon?”
“No. I am not. Solomon comes and goes. At this point in time, he’s not welcome.”
Jack cut in, “Okay, so tell us why Solomon was put in jail?”
“He’s a troubled naughty man, tormented by his inner voice.”
Both Janie and Jack said, “Okay?”
“Solomon was arrested for the possession of child pornography.”
“What!” both of them blurted out.
Lolita put up her finger and said, “Let me rephrase that. He’d been arrested several years back. He violated his parole by entering a place connected with the sex trade, an underground source for taboo smut.”
Janie asked, “When was this?”
“A few days ago. Evidently the place was under police investigation and his picture got taken entering the establishment. It was cross-referenced and a few days later . . . here we sit.”
Janie’s hackles went off. The coincidence seemed too strong to ignore, but then again there had been many of them over the past week. “Where is this place? Tampa?”
“Yes, a place called . . . Aversions.”
Jack nearly swerved off the road. “No fucking way! The Russians own that place.”
Lolita nodded. “Indeed they do. Nasty people. The kind you don’t want to get tangled up with, but Solomon indicated to me they sold good shit—stuff you couldn’t get anywhere else, especially online. Tell me about your case, but only if you want to. I’d understand.”
It took Jack the rest of the ride back to Bonita Springs to explain what had transpired thus far in their investigation. He explained how Robert Lopez had been similarly caught with child pornography on his hard drive, and how he was now missing. Once he finished, another thought hit him smack in the forehead. “Did I mention the Russians have my gramps!”
Janie squeezed his shoulder from behind.
“The fuckers killed Josh and now they’ve probably done the same to Gramps.”
Lolita did not look convinced. “What makes you think that? It’s the reasonable explanation, I’ll give you that. But I don’t think it’s true. I can only back that up with what I’ve seen in my visions. You and I are in tune with the spirits, whether or not you choose to believe. I’m telling ya, it may not be the logical answer to your question; I believe Nathaniel’s somewhere else.”
As they neared Lolita’s driveway, Jack lost it. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Get out of the damn car! Get out and stay out of my life. That’s it!”
Janie put her hand on his shoulder again. “Take it easy, Jack.”
“No. You too. You’re following me around like I’m going to do something stupid. You’re giving me a fucking complex. I’m fine. I finally know where this is all going.”
Lolita turned to him as she tried to extricate her large frame from the passenger seat. “Do you, Jackson? Please listen to me. Your grandfather isn’t with the Russians.”
“Get out! And don’t you or the other guy damn well be late for that court date, or I’ll lose the $495 you owe me.”
“I’ll go and get it for you right now.”
Not wanting to hear another word, Jack said, “No, it’s on me. Just get the fuck out. Leave me alone.”
She grabbed her plastic bag, her eyes welling. “You know where to find me.”
Jack slammed the Jeep into reverse and into the street, cutting off another car, which blasted its horn. He hit the brakes and jammed the car into drive, heading back to the beach. Over his shoulder, Janie didn’t look too happy.
“You going home?” he asked.
“If I wasn’t so mad at you right now I would. But I don’t trust that you will not do something stupid.”
Jack shook his head and floored the gas pedal.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
BORIS SAT IN FRONT of Walker’s house. The wait had been eight hours now. He only planned to do another drive-by, the same as yesterday, since the place had been wrapped in crime-scene tape for the past few days.
Today when Boris saw all the police packing up and ripping off the yellow tape, he drove to a nice restaurant and enjoyed a hearty meal. Two hours later, he returned to Jack Walker’s house. He felt like calling it a day. The sun was setting on the gulf in a ball of fire when he spotted the Jeep heading toward him. He knew Walker had a Jeep and it was red. This had to be him. Boris slowly moved down the road to avoid drawing attention to himself. He’d already checked the windows a few times while he strolled the sidewalk to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. There was no one inside.
The Jeep pulled into the driveway, wheels squealing to a stop.
Walker exited the front seat, storming into the stucco bungalow. The woman with him at Aversions climbed out of the back seat. Strange, Boris thought. He’d been about to leave for his hotel room at the Pink Shell Resort but was rewarded with Walker’s return. Eli would be pleased. Boris sat back in the driver’s seat and watched.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
JACK LEFT THE DOOR open for Janie. She slammed it shut. “What’s that all about?” she yelled. “I’m willing to sit in silence as you burn off your male hormones and bad temper speeding your way through Bonita Springs; you’re lucky you didn’t get pulled over.”
He turned to her, putting his hands up. “Whoa, I’m sorry. I really am.”
She slapped his face. He recoiled, obviously hurt more by the act than the pain. “Don’t do that again, Jack Walker. I’m here because I like you, not because I like being here. Do that again and you’re on your own. You’re a pigheaded bastard sometimes. You didn’t give Lolita a chance. Why in heck do you think she called you? She’s not making money from this. She damn well believes what she’s saying. And I for one believe her.”
Jack paced back and forth in the foyer. “Look, I’m sorry, I really am. I’m just so busted up over this paranormal shit. Josh, Gramps, Lolita. It’s all pushed me over the edge.”
Janie nodded. “I get that, but don’t take me for granted. I’m not here for the good of my health. Like you, I don’t know what the right thing to do is either. I do know you have to stop acting like a child. It doesn’t help and I can’t take it anymore.” She paused. “Did you see the car moving away from your house when we pulled in?”
“No. I must have been focused on the other shit.”
“No. You were having your shit-fit . . . just saying. We better be on our guard if we leave here. That car is watching for sure.”
“Hmmm. The cops promised they’d be out of here today, unless they put a plainclothes detail on us, but I doubt it.” Jack walked to the front window, leaving the lights off in the living room so he wouldn’t be seen. He carefully peered out, looking up and down the street. “There it is. A large BMW. It’s sure as hell not the cops. They don’t drive Beamers.” He made out a figure in the driver’s seat. Walking back into the kitchen, Janie followed him. “You’re right. That makes things more difficult; but then again, maybe not.”
Janie’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going in there.”
“In where?”
“Aversions.”
Janie shook her head. “You’re nuts. You won’t get one foot into that place.”
“Not through the front door. That big garage—the cops couldn’t find a way into it from the inside. Like I said, there’s something going on in there. I bet there’s another level to the basement, or it’s cordoned off from the rest of the place. They didn’t seem so worried about t
heir computers being taken. They have something else going on in that place. Lolita said that. . . Solomon bought taboo porn from them onsite. You can’t just wipe that shit off a computer, especially when you have a business going. We know they’re low-level distributers.”
“As much as I don’t want to agree with you, Jack, I think you are right. But you can’t just open up the garage door and walk inside. I bet they have surveillance and the place will be locked up tighter than Fort Knox.”
He smiled for the first time in days. “Peter said you are good at picking locks.”
“No way.”
“You’re the one who keeps saying you’re not leaving me alone. You wanna keep an eye on me.”
“Yes, but now you’re taking advantage of me.”
“Can’t have your cake and eat it too, baby.”
“It’s reckless. Those guys don’t mess around.”
“They killed Josh. They probably have Gramps. Maybe they have him locked up in that garage, and we both think they’re behind Robert Lopez’s disappearance. I’m not going to wait. If you’re with me, we’re going in tonight.”
Janie became quiet for a time, walked over to the fridge, and took out two Coors, handing one to Jack, who gladly accepted. She nodded. “So, what do we do with him?” She motioned to the car parked out front.
“Hang on.” He pulled his cell out of his pants pocket and speed-dialed Perry’s number. His friend answered on the second ring.
“Hey, bro. Wassup?”
“Did you find out anything about my grandfather?”
“I checked his office and home. No one’s seen or heard, which is not his style.”
The Palm Reader Page 18