Allison Janda - Marian Moyer 02 - Seduction, Deceit & a Slice of Apple Pie

by Allison Janda

  “Where are you taking her?” I asked, worried.

  “Never you mind,” Gregson responded with a smile. “I just wanted you to see her. Briefly. So you’d know you weren’t alone and all of that poetic nonsense.”

  Janet came over to kneel next to me. “What do we need to do in order to get Marian some medicine?”

  “Oh, you’re willing to do something? Tit for tat, that sort of thing?” Gregson asked with a smarmy smile as he eyed Janet’s shirt where it was ripped across her chest. At least her undershirt was still intact. If I’d been her, I’d have clutched what was left of my button down closed and tried to retain a bit of modesty. Janet didn’t seem to care in the slightest that some old geezer was totally checking her out. In fact, she just stared back with a bored expression as if she’d been ogled a million times before. Chances were, she had. The girl was in seriously good shape. My mind instantly wandered to the photo shoot just a day or two prior with James and the slice of apple pie. He was in seriously good shape, too. Those arms. Those abs. Those eyes. And to think the other morning we could have done the deed! Had I seriously given up what could have been my last chance ever to get frisky?

  I groaned involuntarily and closed my eyes. Janet, mistaking the noise for pain, took on an urgent tone. “Or you could do the chivalrous thing and just give it to us,” she challenged Gregson.

  “Why?” I cried out angrily, shaking a fist towards the sky. “Why now? Is this so that I hurry up and make a decision?”

  “Is she becoming an illusion?” Goatee asked.

  “Delusional,” Gregson corrected him.

  “I’m not delusional, I’m just in need of an orgasm,” I vented. “And you,” I said pointing at Gregson, “have taken away my chance.”

  “Both chances,” Janet corrected.

  “Both chances!” I moaned. “Who would believe it?”

  Janet and Gregson stared at each other uncomfortably for what seemed like ages as I carried on, lying on the floor. Finally Gregson turned and nodded at Goatee, who promptly nodded back, turned and left the room. We waited in relative silence, save for my occasional muttered curse, until he came back, holding a small brown medicine container. He handed it to Gregson, who opened it, shook a few times, and eventually held out two white pills to Janet. When she didn’t move to take them right away, he gestured eagerly with his hand. “Go on. I won’t bite.”

  Warily, Janet took a step towards him but kept her eyes on his thugs. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch,” he said. “I just want her to quit talking about orgasms.” With a grin, he added, “You asked for pills and I’m giving them to you. As a peace offering. I can be a nice person. When I want something.” He glared at me and I squinted right back.

  “Okay, you two,” Janet said to Gregson and I. “Marian, open up.”

  I glanced at the pills in her hand, which were roughly the size of my pinkie. “You’re kidding.”

  “It’s dry or not at all,” Gregson snapped.

  I glared menacingly. “Orgasm,” I whispered slowly.

  With a heavy sigh, he turned and nodded to Goatee again. Goatee rolled his eyes so far back into his head that nearly all I could see were the whites of his eyes. Eventually, he turned to leave the room and returned with a large glass of water. Gregson snatched it away and shoved it towards Janet.

  After I’d taken the pills, Gregson stepped around Janet and came to stand directly over me. I refused to look at him. He squatted down and took my chin in his hand, pulling my face every which way until I had no choice but to meet his eyes. I considered closing mine to avoid this horror but decided I probably shouldn’t tick him off any further. “I do love your fire,” he told me finally. “Trust me, you’ll probably need it in here. I can’t even begin to imagine the amount of pain you’re in.” He frowned and seemed to think hard for a moment. “Actually, there was that time Carlos Von Kelsey broke both of my knees with an aluminum bat. Left me in an alley. I almost froze to death before somebody found me a few hours later.” I gulped and felt my eyes grow a bit wider with fear. That sounded pretty terrible. I wasn’t ready for any more pain.

  Gregson grinned and, letting go of my chin, slowly stood back up, his bones popping and creaking as he did so. I couldn’t understand how someone who was so old and looked so sweet could be filled with so much evil. “What do you want from us?” I finally asked, unabashed. “I mean, you know what I want. I want my niece, my sister-in-law, my friend Janet here and myself to all get home alive. I want the opportunity to choose between two gorgeous, equally hunky men. I really, really want to eat something packed with carbs and sugar. I want to see Fred.”

  “Is that another man?” Gregson asked, confused.

  “It’s my fish,” I answered sadly. “Those are all of the things I want. What is it that you want?”

  Goatee raised his hand. “I want-” he started, but Gregson cut him off with a sharp look.

  Turning back to me, he studied my face for a long moment. “I don’t want anything from you,” he assured me softly. “Nothing at all.”

  “That’s funny,” Janet bit back. “Because for a while there, it really seemed like you just wanted to kill us. If you want nothing, why not just let us go?”

  Gregson smiled and clasped his hands behind his back, almost as though he were contemplating a math problem. “You’re fiery, too. And pretty.” He pointed at her with his thumb and turned to his thugs. “I really like her.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Janet snapped.

  The room went quiet as Gregson pondered his next move. I saw Janet eyeing the door, but there was no way past the thugs that blocked her path. They may not need us, but it was obvious we wouldn’t be going anywhere. “Well,” Gregson said quietly. “I suppose that I’ll leave you both to it. Don’t go doing anything stupid, now.”

  “No promises,” Janet responded.

  After Gregson and his thugs had left, Janet stood, but then quickly slid back to the floor. “Crap,” she sighed. “My leg is asleep.”

  “Gee, that must really suck,” I slurred. The pills had only been in my system for a few minutes but they were having obvious effect.

  Janet turned and grinned. “Sorry,” she said, patting my hand.

  As my head began to feel lighter and lighter, I allowed myself the pleasure of turning it to look around at our dingy surroundings. As it turned out, I hadn’t been missing much. “That was weird. With Gregson,” I finally blurted out, rolling onto my belly and laying my cheek on the cold concrete.

  “Geez, careful Marian,” Janet cried, pulling my wild hair out from under the deadweight of my head. “Let’s keep the wound breathing, alright?”

  “Wound,” I said slowly. The word rolled around in my mouth and I giggled. “Wound,” I repeated.

  “Yes, wound,” Janet answered, brushing hair out of my eyes. “Another word for injury.” I giggled like a hyena, high on painkillers. “He was in the room when that doctor recommended painkillers. I’m not sure why he suddenly had a change of heart,” she continued, ignoring me.

  “One can always hope that his conscious suddenly reappeared,” I responded, coming to my senses a bit. “He did use to be nice. Would give John and Addison and I popsicles. Oh!” I said, flipping over to my back.

  “Cripes! Marian! Stop rolling around like that. You’ll hurt yourself again.”

  “Popsicles sound delicious.”

  “They do.”

  “Think they have any here? My lips are dry.”

  “We can ask next time someone comes in.”

  I giggled. “Popsicles in prison.”

  Janet smiled wryly. “I’m glad one of us can see humor in this situation.”

  I giggled again. “Wound.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes. I listened as the sound of our breathing bounced off the cold walls of our prison. There were no windows. The only light was the creepy yellow bulb that hung lonely above our heads, flickering out every so often with a loud buzz.

 
Eventually, I bored with the quiet and tried to think of something entertaining to do while we waited. I was busy pretending that my hand was an incredibly large shark when, suddenly, Janet seemed to realize something. “The door,” she whispered. She stopped and looked around us, as if searching for something.

  “What?” I asked her, as one of my hands ate the other.

  “Cameras,” she whispered. “Do you see any?”

  I looked around, but spotted nothing. “No.”

  “It would make sense though. If these guys were in the same operation as Ernie.”

  “Maybe they only have cameras outside, too.”

  Janet seemed to consider this, then shuddered. “It’s like that song in that musical back in high school. “Somebody’s eyes are watching. Somebody’s eyes are seeing you come and go.”

  “That’s terrifying,” I muttered. “Both that you remember those lyrics from high school and the song itself.” Janet shrugged noncommittally. I resumed my game of hand shark. Flippantly, I said, “Maybe the door is still unlocked. I didn’t hear it click after they left.”

  Janet looked at me confused. “You didn’t?”

  I paused my game of shark and tried to think, but my brain was fuzzy and it was difficult. “I don’t know. I’m not really sure what made me say that.”

  “Your subconscious, perhaps?” She made her way over to the door. “It’s probably just your imagination. The drugs. Lightning doesn’t strike twice, right?”

  “Who are you trying to convince?”

  Janet reached out and took hold of the door knob. Twisting it hard, she pulled, allowing the door to swing wide open.

  “No way,” I whispered, pushing myself into a sitting position. Janet turned to look at me and started to say something, but I shook my head. “Run,” I hissed. “Now!”

  Janet nodded. Her face set with determination, she scurried out into the hallway. Looking left, then right, she shot out of sight. The only sounds were those of her footsteps, fading further and further away, and my breathing, quickening with every beat of my heart. Through my medicinal haze, I strained to hear her, knowing that so long as I did, she was still okay.

  Suddenly, there were loud shouts. Heavy footsteps. Some kind of alarm sounded. People began running past my room, the door still ajar from Janet’s hasty departure. I watched as they sped past, aware of the fact that I was nothing more than a broken shadow, crumpled and lonely in the cold darkness. I hoped to remain invisible. Prayed that they would forget that I was in here. Perhaps, once my haziness cleared up a bit, I could make a run for it, too.

  Instantly, my doorway plunged from light to dark, as a portly figure blocked my view of the hallway. I had the uneasy sensation that I’d met him somewhere before. As soon as he stepped into the light, I gasped. It couldn’t be.

  The man who had just entered my lonely, isolated cell was none other than Richard, Addison’s longtime friend and ally with the Chicago PD.

  We made eye contact and I felt my heart begin to race even faster, blood pounding in my ears. The medicine was making me light-headed. Woozily, I allowed myself to lay back down, splayed across the smooth cold concrete. Richard suddenly seemed unsure of himself, smoothing his hair and fidgeting with his shirt buttons. People were still racing through the hallway behind him. But Janet would make it out. She was smart. Resourceful. “Marian?” Richard asked quietly. “Why are you here?”

  I narrowed my eyes and turned to face him. My speech was becoming more slurred with each passing second and my thoughts were fuzzy and untethered, but I wanted answers. “I could ask you the same thing,” I breathed menacingly, though it probably sounded more like “Icouskyouasamethin” and my menacing gaze was probably more confused and tired.

  “You knew I was involved in narcotics-” he started.

  “Yeah, well not this involved,” I snapped. “I’ll have the police nail you on all kinds of charges.”

  This seemed to amuse him, which pissed me off, but my brain wasn’t understanding why. The haze. Oh, the haze. Why did people pay so much money for mind-altering drugs? They sucked. “Oh yeah?” he asked, crossing his arms in a jovial way. Much more jovial than he should have been, considering I could now testify that he was working with the enemy. “Like what, Moyer?”

  “Like…drug trafficking,” I stammered. “That’s a charge. Kidnapping. Conspiracy. Grand…larceny.”

  Richard laughed long and low, his head tilting so far back that his Adam’s apple strained for release. “Are you just listing off charges you watch on those cop shows of yours?”

  “How do you know I watch cop shows?”

  “You photograph crime scenes. Plus, Addison likes to talk.”

  “I’ll kill her,” I muttered. “And her little dog, too.”

  “I thought that last month, when I made you go on that date with James, you said I was the dog.”

  “You are the dog again! And a liar. And a…a thief. Of…goodness. A robber of good things in the world. You helped them steal my orgasms. I was this close,” I whined, putting my thumb and index finger just inches apart.

  “What?” he cried, blushing furiously. “Look, Marian, I don’t think you-”

  Just then, Gregson and his goateed thug burst through the door. “So it’s true,” Gregson murmured. “She did escape.” He didn’t seem incredibly surprised. It took him a few moments to notice Richard. “Dick,” he sneered.

  “Gregory,” Richard sneered back.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Richard stood. “Just saw that the door was open. Thought someone should come in and make sure there wasn’t any trouble.”

  There were a few tense moments of silence. Had we been in the Wild West, someone would have shot the other by now. “Well, there’s no love lost between you two,” I finally muttered. “You two part of rival outfits or something?”

  Gregson chuckled, then grew serious again. “He wishes.”

  “Oh yeah,” Richard responded sarcastically. “I so wish that I was on the screw up squad. Just wait ‘til HE finds out that you let one of them escape. You’re dead.”

  Gregson laughed and then reached deep into his pocket. Out of it, he drew a small silver pistol that gleamed in the soft light. “Not if he doesn’t find out.”

  “Woah,” Richard murmured, raising his hands defensively and stepping a little closer to me.

  “What are you doing?” I screamed. “Don’t come over here!”

  “Don’t shoot me,” Richard pled.

  “Don’t shoot ME,” I shouted. “And you!” I swatted at Richard from my vulnerable position on the floor. “Get away!”

  “Yes, do kindly get the hell out of here,” Gregson snapped at Richard. “Before I change my mind.”

  Richard hurried past Gregson, watching the pistol his entire escape. “Wait,” I cried after him. “Take me with you!”

  When he didn’t return, Gregson turned to his man. “Were you the last one out of here?”

  Goatee thought hard for a few moments. “I’m not sure,” he answered dumbly. “I thought that I was out first.” He frowned, trying hard to remember.

  “No, you were last,” Gregson barked. “The very last! You left the door unlocked! Again! Idiots! I’m dealing with idiots. You let that little tart escape.”

  Goatee’s eyes widened in surprise and fear. It was hilarious, considering that he could have squashed Gregson like a bug. “I don’t even have a key,” Goatee stammered. “Why would you let me be last if I can’t lock the door?”

  “Let you?” Gregson cried. “It’s called speaking up! ‘Hey, boss! I don’t have a key!’”

  “But you told me to never speak first,” Goatee murmured, contrite.

  “Well, clearly there are some exceptions,” Gregson spat. “Now get out of my sight. Before I decide to shoot you, too.” Goatee shuffled quietly out of the room, eyes downcast, arms limply hanging by his sides. He seemed to hesitate briefly by the door, unsure of if he should speak up. “Well, you don’t need to lock
it now,” Gregson growled over his shoulder. “I’m in here for heaven’s sake.”

  “Sorry boss,” and then the thug was gone.

  “That wasn’t very nice,” I told Gregson. “You know as well as I do that you were the last one out of here.”

  Gregson’s smile opened wide. “I know,” he chuckled. “But that’s always so much fun.”

  “Did you mean to leave the door unlocked?” I asked. My mouth seemed disconnected from the logic of my brain. Or perhaps the medicine had made me illogical. Either way, I was willing to ask and say things that I wouldn’t normally.

  Gregson’s smile disappeared. “Of course not!” he snapped. Then he tapped his head. “Old brain. But if HE ever finds out it was my fault, I’m fish food. Better to have an alibi.”

  “Who is HE?” I asked, confused. “Can someone just answer that for me? I probably won’t even remember. Oh, the room is spinning a bit.”

  “You’ll probably find out who he is sooner or later,” Gregson replied. “But for all of our sakes, let’s hope that you don’t.”

  We let the silence linger between us for a few moments. I found my thoughts, flighty as they were, wandering to Gregson and his past escapades. I wondered how long he had been involved in this whole mess. He didn’t really strike me as the mob type, but I guess that goes to show that you never can tell, can you? I shuddered involuntarily, wondering if Gregson had ever actually killed anyone. Richard seemed to take him pretty seriously. Granted, Gregson didn’t seem too keen on killing me. Maybe it was because I was a woman. Did gangsters live by the “women first/don’t harm women” motif? Maybe I did stand a chance at getting out of here alive. If I could just avoid this HE character.

  “What’s going to happen to her?” I asked quietly in the darkness, my thoughts slowly returning to Janet.

  “There are a lot of places out there to hide,” Gregson offered. Then with a frown he added, “But she wouldn’t be the first one who tried to get away from him.” The way that he’d said it had me hoping and praying that Janet would somehow be able to outsmart them. “And they have dogs,” he added. “Really big dogs. Lots of teeth. And anger.”