by K. M. Hodge
I have the worst taste in women!
After Sara used him all those years ago, he had told himself he would never trust anyone again. It was a foolish declaration that he, of course, never kept. The woman he dated before Mari robbed him, another before that stole one of his manuscripts and pawned it off as her own, and another turned out to be a stalker. Then there was Mari—she, too, had turned her back on him at a time when he needed her most.
As they rounded the corner of the cabin, a familiar face came into view. Jason spun on his heels to face his lying lover. The goons cocked and aimed their guns at his head; the muscles in his jaw twitched and his left eye developed a tick. “So you’ve been working for him all along?”
She said nothing. At least she didn’t deny it or try and justify her despicableness.
One of the goons nudged Jason forward into the clearing where his nemesis, Scott, stood waiting.
“Let’s go in, shall we?” Scott waved the party forward with a self-satisfied grin on his face.
Jason looked forward to the day that his fist could wipe away that smile.
Once inside, Jason leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t get it,” he said under his breath to Sally.
Scott let out a deep belly laugh, making his middle-aged gut dance like St. Nick. “Jason, you can’t possibly be this naive. Did you really think you were going to make a difference? That Sally here was actually interested in you? She’s a fucking whore.”
“Sally...?” So that’s her name. It seemed so banal. He looked down at her and tried to imagine calling her Sally.
She avoided his searching gaze. “I’m sorry, Jason.”
“You’re sorry. That’s just great.” He turned his attention back to Scott. “Okay, master villain, isn’t this where you tell me in painstaking detail what your grand plan is, right before you have me killed?” He held his hand out toward Scott, indicating it was his turn to talk. “Go ahead, I’m listening.” An eerie calm settled over the group.
Scott’s confident smile slid a little. “I’m not going to have you killed, Jason. You are far too valuable to me alive.”
Jason laughed a little. “Oh? How’s that?”
“Sally here sold me the hard copy of your little scathing memoir. She’s a rich woman. I admire that kind of entrepreneurship and cunning. You, my friend, were the means to a lucrative end for Miss Sally here.” Scott slipped his hands into the pockets of his dress pants and took a turn about the room, as if he were in some Jane Austen movie.
Jason clenched his fist and dug his fingernails into his closed palm to keep himself in check.
Scott walked over to the goon holding Jason’s papers.
Jason suddenly realized, to his immense horror, that Scott had all of Katherine’s journals and research from True... Sally. It pained him to see them in her psychotic brother’s hands. How could a set of twins be any more different? Not even a hint of Katherine’s generosity or integrity could be found in this sad excuse for a man.
Scott placed everything into the metal trash bucket and took out his lighter like it was no big deal. “I’ll have you do the honors.” He strolled over to Jason and held the lighter out to him.
Jason wet his lips. Fuck him if he thinks I’m going to destroy all my hard work or Katherine’s journals.
The nearest goon cocked his gun and pointed it at Jason’s head—the cold metal barrel bore into his scalp. Hemingway had said something once equating the writing process to bleeding on the page. If he didn’t torch his work, he really would be bleeding on the page.
I don’t think that is what dear Earnest had in mind.
Under protest, he took the lighter and one of the papers and lit the edge of it on fire. For a moment, the flame ate away at Katherine’s name.
As the entire paper became engulfed, Scott bent down and finally placed it in the basket with the rest.
Jason stood and crossed his arms over his chest, somehow maintaining an outward appearance of calm.
“He had a device with the book,” said the biggest and oldest goon, who handed over the tablet to Scott.
“Turn off the disrupter, Sally.” Scott glared at her.
Sally wound her watch and suddenly the pad was up and working again.
Her watch! Of course! Who wears a watch anymore?
He remembered thinking it was odd, but she was so anti-technology he assumed it was just one of her quirks.
Scott deleted the document from the cloud with a swipe of his finger.
Jason tried to maintain his flat affect. Scott didn’t know about the e-mail—he and Lisa had been communicating back and forth for years through a draft e-mail. They had gotten the idea from a politician, who used them to communicate with his girlfriend so his wife wouldn’t know about the affair. At the time, they had thought it was funny and started doing it as a joke, but over the years, they had found it a good, secretive way to exchange information. It had been a last-minute decision, which in retrospect had been a godsend.
His heart hammered in his chest as Scott looked through everything to see if Jason had done anything else. He looked everywhere, everywhere except the email draft folder. Scott handed the tablet back to one of the goons and Jason let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.
The goon started to flip through the screens. “Sir, there’s a draft email here, where he put some of the files,” said the goon.
Scott nodded at the goon who, with one swipe, deleted Jason’s last hope.
He couldn’t let the pompous asshole win so he tamped down his feelings. “What now, Scott? I didn’t get an agenda for our meeting here.”
Scott bristled at his words and motioned for one of his goons to hand him the canvas bag on the floor.
The older man carried the bag over to the table and pulled out an expensive bottle of scotch and several glasses.
“Now we can celebrate,” Scott said. “This is a twenty-year-old bottle of scotch, ya know.”
Jason dug his fingernails deeply into his palms. He hadn’t had a drop of alcohol for a month; Scott seemed to know this. He could feel Sally’s eyes on him, which did nothing for his frayed nerves.
Scott handed him a glass tumbler with three-fingers of scotch, and Jason downed it like water. He wanted to honor his sobriety but this was not a final stand moment, because surely it would end up being his last. The way he saw it, if he was going down this rabbit hole, he was going feet first of his own accord.
“What makes me a valuable commodity to you?” he said.
Scott nodded as he placed his glass down on the table. “All in good time, my man.”
The goon propped up the tablet on the table and opened the video conferencing app.
The sound of the call ringing made Jason’s skin prickle with fear. When it connected, he couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped his lips.
“Oh God, Mari!” His chest tightened and his breathing became shallow. He slid down the wall onto his haunches. “What did you do to her?”
“A little car accident. She sustained a few minor fractures but is otherwise unharmed. Though her status can change depending on how cooperative you are with me.”
“You’re crazy.” It finally sank in what kind of person he was dealing with.
“No, crazy is the man who’s watching your little girlfriend,” Scott said. “I can’t promise he will behave himself, so you might want to meet my demands as quickly as possible.”
Jason’s heart raced. How did I get into this mess? “What do you want?”
“You have a big social media following. You’ve been teasing this book for months. Your followers are going to want something pretty amazing and you are going to deliver.”
“Cut the bullshit.” The cryptic double talk was wearing thin.
“Friend, I want you to write the book with the truth—my truth, at least. You’re going to throw everything on Charles and take the spotlight off me. If this isn’t something you think you can do, then that makes
you an obstacle, and I’ll do away with you and your friend. Are we clear?” Scott took some handwritten notes out of his breast pocket and put them down on the table.
Jason stood and filled his glass with an unidentifiable amount of scotch. “Crystal.” He downed the drink, winced from the bite of the alcohol as it burned his throat, chest and gut, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Great, just what I wanted to hear,” Scott said. “I’ll get going now and leave you to your work. I will be by later to check on your progress.” He walked toward the door, all the while staring down at the floor where his sister’s bloodstain was still visible. “I’d type fast, if I were you, unless you don’t care as much for the detective as I think you do.”
Scott then glared at Sally. “Sally Ride, here, will make sure you do a good job.” Scott glanced back at Jason and said, “I hope you wore a rubber with this one, friend. Every dick in the DC metro has been in her. Even Alex had fun with her back in the day.”
He laughed and walked out of the cabin.
Jason worried his bottom lip to keep from running after him and attacking him with all his might. Since he had more brains than brawn, he stayed in place.
Once Scott had driven off, Jason threw his glass hard against the back wall, making it shatter into a million glittering shards. He picked up the bottle of scotch and drank straight from the neck in several long burning gulps. He set the bottle down, gasping and wincing from the intense burn.
Sally silently watched him.
Guess I need to get back to work, like I have a choice.
He snatched up a ream of paper, and took it and the bottle of scotch with him back to the typewriter.
***
Sally tried to follow him into the room but Jason slammed the door shut in her face.
“Jason....” She stared at the closed door.
“Don’t!” he yelled.
The distinctive sound of the typewriter keys clacking away wafted under the door, along with numerous dust bunnies. She rested her head against the door and listened to the sound of him working, the carriage being shoved forcibly to the right. She stood there for a long time listening to him. Every so often the click and clack of the keys would stop.
He’s stopping to drink—a lot.
After each silent pause, she could hear the sound of him slamming the bottle back down. Eventually, when it was clear he was not going to stop until he was done or out of booze, she stepped away from the door to clean up the broken glass. He always walked around the cabin barefoot, and she didn’t want him to step on the shards.
She wanted to tell him the truth, the whole plan. She’d been naive in this whole venture. If only she could make him understand. His opinion meant everything to her.
How did I let this happen? Why did I let him in?
Her actions ruined any chance of them ever being together, as he would never forgive her for this betrayal. Too many women had burned him too many times. She was simply another in a long line of people who had taken advantage of his kindness and good heart.
As she swept up the last of the glass, the red stain on the concrete caught her attention. She would often catch him staring at it in a lost, far-off sort of way. It hadn’t taken a lot of hacking to find out what happened in the cabin nearly two decades ago. The police report had stated that Katherine had been attacked in the cabin by an unknown assailant, but Sally knew the man who’d done it, and how he died at the hands of Charles MacAvoy.
Jason had been the first one on the scene back then.
She looked up at the closed door and it blurred as a stream of salty tears streamed down her cheeks to her mouth. She didn’t want to be a part of anything that hurt him, but it seemed too late now.
Chapter 11
Unknown Building
Unknown Location
July 20, 2025
7:00 PM
~~~
Mari’s captors spoon-fed her some kind of broth and water, but her stomach still growled in hunger, adding to the pain and discomfort she already felt throughout her body. Her eyes remained crusted close, her arms and legs tightly bound to the surface she lay on.
“Did you see the update from the boss?” one of the men in the room asked as he tested her bindings with a hard tug.
“Yeah, hopefully this will all be over soon. Tidy is getting restless.” The other’s man voice seemed fainter, farther away.
“He wants to even things out, apparently,” the first man said.
Even what out?
A loud bang and a click of a lock followed.
Was that really necessary?
She couldn’t move an inch, let alone get up and open a door. She couldn’t be sure, but her arm and one of her legs felt broken.
Would anyone even notice her absence? A major downside to living a singular existence: no one to worry about her.
Manny would be the only one to notice she was missing. She hadn’t responded to his last text, and had missed their date to see his daughter’s band play. He, and maybe Ellie, were her only hope of getting out of here.
***
Yellow Hat Cabin
Millboro, Virginia
July 20, 2025
7:30 PM
~~~
Jason sat at the typewriter staring at the empty bottle of scotch, which wavered in and out of focus. In his drunken stupor, he felt as though his brain and body were in two different time zones. He flashed on something Scott had said about Sally having slept with Alex. The mere thought of her sleeping with him made his gorge rise.
He jumped up from his chair and ran for the kitchen sink, where he vomited into the basin.
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
Sally sprung up from where she had been sitting on the bare floor. “Jason!”
He held onto the sink’s rim, trying to regain his equilibrium. In the back of his mind he worried about alcohol poisoning. Scott wouldn’t care; he would still demand that Jason keep working at the current breakneck pace.
Is this my rock bottom?
The taste in his mouth made him grimace. He turned on the faucet and cupped his hands together to collect small mouthfuls of water. When the urge to throw up again passed, he stood up and dabbed his face with the dish towel.
“Did you really sleep with Alex?” He avoided looking at her; he couldn’t.
After a long pause, she answered him in a hushed whisper. “Yes.”
He pushed off the sink to return to the bedroom. His brain flashed the picture of Alex’s notes about the source that he had slept with. The source’s initials, S.R.—Sally Ride.
Before he walked through the doorway, he turned back to her. “Did you ever sleep with Scott?”
Sally frowned and tried to meet his eye. “No, I never slept with Scott.”
Jason nodded and sighed. He believed her.
***
Manny Richards’s Brownstone
Alexandria, Virginia
July 20, 2025
9:00 PM
~~~
Manny sat on his porch steps smoking his third cigarette of the night. He couldn’t help but check his phone every few minutes to make sure he hadn’t somehow missed a call from Mari.
It wasn’t like her not to call or text him back. Her devices were practically an extension of her person.
He didn’t want to think about why she might not be responding.
As he put out the butt out on the stone step, a young man in a gray hoodie sauntered over to him. “Hey, old man, can I bum a smoke?”
Manny let out a bitter laugh. “With that attitude I should say no. How old are you?”
The young man sat down on the stoop next to him. “I have some information for you,” the kid said under his breath.
Manny pulled out a cigarette and handed it to the young man, along with his lighter from the war. “Whadda ya got?”
“Information about where your Detective friend went off to. The killer they call Tidy, he murdered another person. He’s doin�
�� all the boss man’s dirty work.” The boy took a puff of the cigarette and handed Manny back his lighter.
“Where’s Marianna?” Manny asked.
“I don’t know the location, but I know she’s still in Virginia. Tidy got to her, made her have a car accident, and then took off with her somewhere. Out in the woods, I think.” The young man’s hands shook as he smoked the cigarette in earnest. He was spooked, that was clear.
“Who did Tidy kill?” Manny asked.
“My ma,” the young man choked out.
“Jesus!” Manny lit himself another cigarette. “How are you involved in all this, son?”
The boy shook, his eyes darting up and down the block. He perched himself on the stoop as if prepared to bolt at any second. “The boss man needed me to hack into some frozen accounts and move some money around. He also had me destroy some digital files so that they’d never see the net. I did what he asked, but he killed my mom as soon as the document was destroyed.” The young man wiped away the tears that had begun to fall. “Someone needs to stop them, sir.”
Manny tried to remain calm, but fought a losing battle. “What do they want with Marianna?” He breathed out a puff of smoke. “Are they going to kill her?”
“She’s leverage, for now. They’re using her to make that writer dude write a new book with everything pinned on that gazillionaire MacAvoy. Once they have what they need, they’ll sic Tidy on her for sure.”
Manny took a puff of his cigarette and looked over at the boy beside him. He couldn’t be more than eighteen—way too young to be caught up in this crap. Hell, he was too old for it. What a pair they made. “What should I call you?”
“Name’s Ashton, but you can call me Ash.”
***
Yellow Hat Cabin
Millboro, Virginia
July 21, 2025
7:00 AM
Sally stood at the stove cooking oatmeal for Jason and herself, hoping it would help soak up all the booze in his stomach. She’d been up all night reading his first novel, and instantly fell in love with the story and the beautiful prose. No matter how much she tried to deny it to the world, she had feelings for Jason that grew with each passing day. All morning she had been trying to come up with a plan to win back his trust.