The Plantation paj-1

by Chris Kuzneski

  “I saw a pair of handcuffs in there, and they looked pretty damn real.”

  “Go on,” Payne grumbled, not liking where this was going.

  “I brought them back here and tried to analyze them. You know, figure them out? And after a while, I did. I figured out the trick.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, so I slipped them on to test my theory, and . . .”

  Payne stared at D.J. and smiled. For the first time, he realized his friend’s hands had been hidden from view during their entire conversation. “You’re handcuffed to the desk, aren’t you?”

  Jones took a deep breath and nodded sheepishly. “I’ve been like this for three freakin’ hours, and I have to take a leak. You know how my morning coffee goes right through me!”

  Laughing, Payne jumped to his feet and peered behind the desk to take a look. “Whoa! That doesn’t look comfortable at all. You’re all twisted and-”

  “It’s not comfortable,” Jones interrupted. “That’s why I need you to give me a hand.”

  “Why don’t you just break off the handle? Or aren’t you strong enough?”

  “It’s an antique desk! I’m not breaking an antique desk!”

  Payne smiled. “Wait a second. I thought you could pick any lock in the world.”

  “With the proper tools, I can. But as you can plainly see, I can’t reach any tools.”

  “I see that,” Payne said, laughing. “Fine. I’ll give you some help, but . . .”

  “But what?” Jones snapped as his face got more flushed. “Just tell me the secret to your stupid trick so I can get free. I’m not in the mood to joke here.”

  “I know. That’s why I don’t know how to tell you this. I’ve got some bad news for you.”

  “Bad news? What kind of bad news?”

  Payne patted his friend on his arm, then whispered, “I don’t own any fake handcuffs.”

  “What? You’ve got to be kidding me!” Jones tried pulling free from the desk, but the cuffs wouldn’t budge. “You mean I locked myself to my desk with a real set of cuffs? Son of a bitch!”

  “Not exactly something you’ll put on your private eye résumé, huh?”

  Jones was tempted to curse out Payne but quickly realized that he was the only one who could help. “Jon. Buddy. Could you please get me some bolt cutters?”

  “I could, but I’m actually kind of enjoying-”

  “Now!” Jones screamed. “This isn’t a time for jokes! If my bladder gets any fuller, I’ll be forced to piss all over your office building! I swear to God, I will!”

  “Okay, okay. I’m going.” Payne bit his lip to keep from laughing. “But before I leave . . .” He placed his hand on the cuffs, and with a flick of his wrist, he popped off the stainless steel device-a trick he’d learned from a professional escape artist. “I better grab my handcuffs so I know what type of bolt cutters to get.”

  Jones stared in amazement as his best friend walked across the room. “You bastard! I thought you said they were real?”

  Payne shrugged. “And I thought you promised not to mess with my stuff.”

  CHAPTER 3

  PAYNE’S schedule was free until an afternoon meeting, so he decided to return his girlfriend’s message in person.

  Ariane Walker had recently been named the youngest vice president in the history of the First National Bank of Pittsburgh, an amazing accomplishment for a twenty-eight-year-old female in the boys’ club of banking. She was born and raised in nearby Moon Township, a fact that she and Payne were often kidded about since he grew up in Mars, Pennsylvania. Both of them took it in stride. Normally, they just replied that their relationship was out of this world, and they meant it. They’d been dating for over a year and had never had a fight-at least none without pillows.

  As Payne strolled to Ariane’s office, a journey he tried to make a few times a week, he peered down at Pittsburgh’s gleaming skyline and smiled. Even though he grew up disliking the place, a city that used to be littered with steel mills, industrial parks, and the worst air this side of Cher nobyl, his opinion had slowly changed. In recent years Pittsburgh had undergone an amazing metamorphosis, one that had transformed it from an urban nightmare to one of the most scenic cities in America.

  First, the steel industry shifted elsewhere, leaving plenty of land for new businesses, luscious green parks, and state-of-the-art sports stadiums. Then Pittsburgh’s three rivers-the Allegheny, the Monongahela, and the Ohio-were dredged, making them suitable for recreational use and riverfront enterprises. Buildings received face-lifts. Bridges received paint jobs. The air received oxygen. This mutt of a city was given a thorough bath, and a pure pedigree had somehow emerged, one that had been voted “America’s Most Livable City.”

  “Hey,” Ariane said the moment Payne knocked on her open office door. “I called you earlier. You get my message?”

  “Yep, and since I had nothing else to do, I figured I’d pay my favorite girl a visit.”

  “I don’t know where she is right now, so I guess I’ll have to do until she gets back.”

  Payne sighed as he moved closer. “Oh well, I guess you’re better than nothing.”

  The chestnut-haired executive grinned and gave him a peck on the cheek. “We’ve got to make this quick, Jonathon. With a long weekend coming up, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  “But you still have tomorrow off, right? Or am I going to have to buy the bank and fire you?”

  “Oh, how romantic!” she teased. “No, that won’t be necessary. Once I leave here at five, I’m officially free until Tuesday morning. The next one hundred and eleven hours are all yours.”

  “And I’m gonna use every one of them. I swear, woman, I don’t get to see you enough.”

  “I feel the same way, man. But one of us has to work, and I know it’s not going to be you.”

  Payne grimaced. “It certainly doesn’t look like you’re working too hard. I mean, here you are, a highly paid bank official, and instead of doing something productive, you’re sitting at your desk, undressing me with your eyes.”

  Ariane blushed slightly. “Please!”

  “And now you’re begging for me. Damn, get a hold of your passion. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

  She smacked him on the arm and ordered him to calm down. “What is it that you want?”

  “Hey, you called me. Remember?”

  “Please don’t remind me of my bold and desperate act.”

  “I can’t help it that you’re easy.”

  “That’s true,” she joked. “I think I get that from my grandmother. She used to run a brothel, you know.”

  “Really?”

  “No, not really.” She laughed at the thought. “So, what are we going to do tonight?”

  Payne shrugged. “Some of the new holiday movies come out today. I guess we could grab some dinner and catch a flick.”

  “Your treat?”

  “I don’t know,” he scoffed. “You claim I don’t even have a job. Why should I pay?”

  Ariane faked a growl. “That wasn’t a question, Jonathon. That was an order. Your treat!”

  He loved it when she called him Jonathon. He really did. For some reason she was the first person he’d ever met that made it sound sexy. With anyone else, the name gave him flashbacks to the days when his parents were alive and he was just a boy. Jonathon was the name his mother used when he was in trouble. Like the time he accidentally ran over the neighbor’s cat with a lawn mower. The cat’s tail healed quickly, but Payne’s ass was sore for weeks.

  “Of course it’s my treat!” He laughed. “I pay for all the women I’m currently dating.”

  “Well, we can talk about your hookers later. In the meantime, do you have time to take me out to lunch? I think this place could do without me for a little while.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” he said, smiling.

  Within minutes, they were strolling hand in hand above the city, enjoying the summer sun and each other’s company. In fact, th
ey were so lost in their own little world that neither of them noticed the black van that started following them the moment they left the bank.

  CHAPTER 4

  Longview Regional Hospital

  Longview, Colorado

  (109 miles southwest of Denver)

  TONYA Edwards sat in the ob-gyn’s office, nervously waiting for her test results. Normally, Tonya was an optimistic person, someone who always looked at the bright side of life, but a first-time pregnancy has a way of changing that. Anxiety and fear often replace calm and joy, and as she waited for her doctor, the tension gnawed away at her very large stomach.

  When the exam room door finally opened, Tonya wanted to jump up to greet the doctor, but it was physically impossible. She just wasn’t in the condition to make any quick movements.

  “How are you feeling, Tonya?” asked the middle-aged doctor as he pulled a chair next to her. “Any better?”

  “Not really, Dr. Williamson. I’m still nauseous, and I have a slight headache.”

  “And how’s the little fellow doing today?”

  She grinned and patted her belly. “Robert Jr. is doing fine. He’s been kicking up a storm while I’ve been waiting for the results, though.”

  “Well, I’ve got good news for both of you. Everything looks perfect. No problems at all.”

  Relief flooded Tonya’s face. After taking a deep breath, her lips curled into a bright smile. “That is such good news, doc. You wouldn’t believe how worried I’ve been.”

  “Actually,” he said, “I probably would. I’ve been doing this for many years, and I’ve seen this happen many times before. Tension tends to bring on flulike symptoms. First-time mothers have it pretty rough. Especially someone like you. Since you no longer have your own mother to talk to, you really don’t have anyone to help you through this. Sure, Robert is there, but this is all new to him, too. And he certainly has no idea about the physical changes that you’re going through, now does he?”

  Tonya smiled as she wiped the moisture from her eyes. “He’s kind of clueless on the physical stuff. In fact, I had to tell him how he got me in this condition to begin with.”

  Dr. Williamson let out a loud laugh. “Well, I must admit I expected him to know at least that much.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong. Robert is a wonderful husband, and he’s going to make a great dad, but you’re right. He’s clueless when it comes to my body and this baby.”

  “I’m sure he’s doing the best he can, so take it easy on him.”

  When her appointment was over, Tonya waddled down the corridor toward the elevators. After pushing the down button, she leaned against a nearby wall and rested.

  “Are you all right?” asked a man in a powder blue nurse’s outfit.

  The voice startled her. “What? Ah, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

  “How many months are you?”

  She laughed as she touched her belly. “Eight down, one to go.”

  “I bet you’re excited, huh?”

  Tonya nodded her head. “I don’t know what I’m looking forward to the most: having a baby or getting my body back to the way it used to be.”

  The black man grinned. “Well, I admire you women. You go through so much in order to bring something so precious into the world. I got to hand it to you.”

  “Well, somebody’s got to do it, and it certainly isn’t going to be a man.”

  He nodded. He couldn’t agree with her more. “So, what were you doing here?”

  “I just had an appointment with Dr. Williamson. He wanted to run a few tests to make sure I’m fine.”

  “And everything went well, I hope?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Good,” the man said. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  As he finished his statement, the elevator door slid open, revealing an empty car. Tonya took a few steps forward, but she appeared a little unsteady on her feet.

  “Wow,” she muttered. “I really don’t feel very good.”

  The man grimaced, then patted her on the arm. “I’ll tell you what. If you hold the door for me, I’ll get something that will help you out. Okay?”

  She stared at him, a look of confusion on her face.

  “Just trust me, all right?”

  Tonya nodded, holding the door open button. The man jogged halfway down the hall and grabbed a wheelchair that had been abandoned in the corridor. Pushing it as quickly as he could, the man returned to the elevator. “Your chariot, madam.”

  She smiled and settled her wide frame into the seat. “Normally you wouldn’t catch me in one of these for a million bucks, but to be honest with you, I think the rest will do me good.”

  “I was heading outside anyway, so it would be my pleasure to assist you to the parking lot.”

  “Thanks,” Tonya said. “I appreciate it.”

  As the elevator door slid shut, the smile that had filled the man’s face during the entire conversation quickly faded. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed the hypodermic needle that he had prepared ten minutes earlier and brought it into view. After removing the cap, the man inched the syringe toward the exposed flesh of the unsuspecting woman.

  “Don’t worry, Tonya,” he whispered. “The baby won’t feel a thing.”

  Before she had a chance to question his comment or the use of her name, he jabbed the needle into her neck and watched her succumb to the potent chemical. The elevator door opened a moment later and he wasted no time pushing the sleeping woman through the lobby, right past the security staff at the front desk.

  “Is she all right?” asked one of the guards.

  “Dead tired,” he answered as he rolled her toward the black vehicle that waited outside.

  LATER that night, Payne and Ariane went to the movies. Unfortunately, the theater was so packed they were actually relieved when the film ended.

  “Well, what do you think?” he asked as they walked outside. “Did you like it?”

  “Like what?”

  “Um, the movie we just saw.”

  Ariane smiled, giggling at her atypical behavior. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been able to figure that out. I’ve got a slight headache from that darn crowd. I guess I’m kind of out of it right now.”

  “No problem, as long as you aren’t trying to back out of tomorrow.”

  “No chance there, mister. In fact, I think I have our entire weekend planned.”

  “Oh, you do, do you? Well, what do I have to look forward to?”

  Ariane glanced at him and smiled. “I figured we can start off tomorrow morning with breakfast and a round of golf. Then, when I’m done kicking your butt, we can grab some lunch before heading back to your pool for some skinny-dipping and a variety of aquatic activities that will never be in the Olympics.”

  “I don’t know.” Payne laughed. “The TV ratings would go through the roof if the Olympics used some of the events that I have in mind.”

  She blushed slightly. “Then on Saturday, if you’re not too tired, I figured we can work on perfecting our routines.”

  Payne threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “That sounds pretty good to me. But one question still remains: What’s on the itinerary for tonight?”

  Ariane frowned. “Nothing but sleep. As I mentioned, I’ve got a slight headache, and I think it has to do with a lack of rest. If it’s okay with you, I just want to go home and snooze.”

  “Sure, that’s fine.” In truth, he was disappointed, but he didn’t want to make her feel guilty. “I guess I’ll just go home and do some paperwork. You know me. My job always comes first.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Friday, July 2nd

  Plantation Isle, Louisiana

  (42 miles southeast of New Orleans)

  THE cross was ten feet high, six feet wide, and built with a sole purpose in mind. The carpenter had used the right kind of wood, soaked it in the ideal fuel, and planted it into the ground at the appropriate angle. The Plantation had one shot to do this right, and they wanted it to
go smoothly. It would set the perfect tone for their new guests.

  “Torch it,” Octavian Holmes snarled through the constraints of his black hood. The wooden beams were set aflame, and before long fiery sparks shot high into the predawn sky, illuminating the row of cabins that encircled the grass field.

  Ironically, the image brought a smile to Holmes’s shrouded face. As a child, he had witnessed a similar scene, a cross being burned in his family’s front yard, and it had evoked a far different reaction. It had terrified him. The bright glow of the smoldering wood. The sharp stench of smoke. The dancing specters in white hoods and sheets. The racial taunts, the threats of violence, the fear in his father’s eyes. All of it had left an indelible mark on his young psyche, a scar that had remained for years. Now things were different. He was no longer a scared boy, cowering with his family, seeking strength and protection. Now the roles were reversed. He built the cross. He lit the flame. And he controlled the guest list.

  Finally, a chance to exorcise some of his personal demons.

  Over the roar of the blaze, he continued his commands. “Bring the prisoners into formation!”

  A small battalion of men, dressed in long black cloaks and armed with semiautomatic handguns, burst into the cramped huts and dragged the blindfolded captives toward the light of the flames. One by one, the confused prisoners were placed into a prearranged pattern-three lines of six people-and ordered to stand at attention while facing the cross. When the leader of the guards was finally happy with the setup, he let his superior know. “We’re ready, sir.”

  “Good,” Holmes replied as he settled into his black saddle. “Drop your hoods!”

  In unison, the entire team of guards covered their faces with the thick black hoods that hung loosely from the back of their cloaks. When they were done, they looked like Klans men in black robes. Their eyes were all that remained uncovered, and they burned like glowing embers in the Louisiana night.

  “It’s time to show them our power!”

  With sharp blades in hand, the guards charged toward the prisoners and swiftly cut small holes in the white cotton bags that had been draped over the heads of the captives.