“So we’re going to your place in the Pines now? I get to see it?”
Monica lit a cigarette. “Yup. We won’t be there long though. Just long enough to get your boyfriend fixed up.”
“What about tomorrow night?”
Monica exhaled smoke with a grin. “Oh yeah—tomorrow night, you’ll get to see it all.”
They got into the Lexus.
As Monica went to start the ignition, Kelly said, “Hold on a sec” and began dialing a number on her cell. When Kathy Lennox answered, Kelly donned the sheepish voice. “Miss Lennox? It’s Erin. I’m home safe.”
46
Domino arrived in East Hampton well after 1 A.M. Kathy had immediately hugged him and started to cry with relief. Domino allowed the hug, but when she started voicing her gratitude between tears, he held her back at arms’ length and insisted she gather herself. It was far too early for gratitude. This was pass/fail—his effort to show would be no consolation later if the boy died.
“This the phone they said they’d be calling on?” Domino asked when Kathy handed the cell over.
“Yeah.”
“The dead boy was holding this along with the photo of Ben?”
“Yes.”
“Show me the body.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for them to call first?”
Domino held up the cell. “Is there no signal in the guest house?”
“No, there is. I just—”
“When they call, they’ll have my full attention. You know that.”
Kathy nodded.
“Show me the boy.”
• • •
Domino squatted next to Devon’s covered body. A circle of blood had soaked through the sheet Kathy had draped over him. Domino pulled back the sheet. Kathy looked away; Domino leaned forward.
Three bullet wounds to the chest, all of them grouped tight together. Whoever did the shooting was a good shot.
Domino covered the boy back up and stood. He looked around until he caught something by the front door.
“You didn’t move the body?” he asked.
Kathy shook her head.
Domino walked towards the front door and studied the flecks of blood on the wall, roughly four feet from the ground. He then squatted, eyes going over the floor. He eventually ran a finger over a faint scuff line on the hardwood.
Domino stood and went back to Devon, lifted the lower half of the sheet to expose his shoes. He wore dark loafers. The soles were rubber.
Domino faced Kathy. “He was shot by the front door. Then dragged—” his finger traced a line from the door to the body “—and placed here.”
“So they were waiting for him?” Kathy asked.
“Doubt it. You’ve got the drop on a guy, you don’t shoot him the second he walks in the door. Too risky. Who knows who’s following him in? You secure the area first.”
“So what are you saying?”
“The kid walked in on it.”
“Walked in on wha—oh…”
Domino gave a sympathetic nod.
“But it all seems like a lot of trouble,” Kathy said. “Wouldn’t they want to get the hell out of here as soon as possible? Why bother moving Devon’s body? Why pose him like that with the picture and the phone?”
For drama, Domino thought. For flare…Jesus, for fun?
“Domino?”
Domino shook it away. “I don’t know why they did it. To get our attention probably. To you let you know they’re dangerous and will follow through on any threats.”
Beats of silence.
“Why did you want to see Devon’s body?” Kathy eventually said.
Domino gave an automated reply so as not to raise any concern. “Just getting a foothold.”
But he was concerned. Because that foothold told him that when he climbed, he would not be dealing with some crazed radicals he’d roughed up in the past, looking for some payback. He’d be dealing with people who could group their shots with exceptional proficiency when taken by surprise. People who did their homework and planned ahead. People who enjoyed their work a little too much.
A thought flew at him like a fist. He flinched, frowned and shook his head. No—it was impossible.
47
Domino moved Devon’s body into the cellar of the main house and kept him covered. Kathy periodically wept as she watched Domino’s labor.
“I can’t believe this,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Just what the hell am I supposed to tell his mother when the time comes?”
“Whatever you have to. Think about Ben.”
“You want me to lie.”
“You’re an actress.”
Kathy gave him a look.
“Kathy, now’s not the time to get your back up. This poor kid is gone; Ben is not. When it’s all done, Devon’s mother will understand why you kept it from her as long as you did. Any mother would do the same if it meant saving their child’s life.”
Kathy dropped her head and nodded. When she lifted her head, she glanced at the sheets covering Devon on the floor. “What am I supposed to do with…the body?”
“Absolutely nothing. Leave him be.”
“But won’t he…won’t the body start to…decompose?”
“It’s cool enough down here that it’ll retard the process some.”
“Some? For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Domino…”
“Kathy, people like this don’t want to drag things out. They want what they want as soon as possible.”
“But we don’t know what they want.”
Domino only said, “Let’s go upstairs.”
• • •
Domino and Kathy sat at the kitchen table with tea, the cell phone by Domino.
“This is far from typical, isn’t it?” Kathy asked.
Domino sipped his tea. “It never is.”
“You know what I mean. Them requesting your involvement?”
Domino sipped again and conceded. “That’s somewhat atypical.”
“You have no suspicions? Who it might be?”
No suspicions, just irrational fears. But he didn’t believe in ghosts. And as Amy put it: “I highly doubt those whackos have any more family…we nailed ’em all.”
Domino shook his head. “No idea.”
“Well it’s obvious it’s someone who’s got it in for you and me, right?”
Domino shook his head again. “Just me. It’s got nothing to do with you.”
“It sure as hell feels like it.”
Domino reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m sorry. I was being too curt. I’m sorry.”
She returned a weak smile.
The cell rang. Kathy flinched.
Domino grabbed the cell and stood. He let it ring once more before answering.
“This is Domino.”
“Hello, Domino. Long time.” The voice was deep and metallic. A voice changer. Domino expected this. He would listen for word choice and pattern of speech for anything significant.
“Has it? I wouldn’t know,” he said.
“Well time can be subjective. I could throw acid in Ben’s face and I’m sure he’d tell you thirty seconds felt like thirty days.”
Immediate scare tactics. Reminding me what’s at stake and who’s in charge. Placate them.
“I’m sure he would. What can I do to prevent that?”
“Do as I say.”
“Go then.”
“There’s a diner in Toms River, New Jersey—Ernie’s.”
“What time?”
“Tomorrow morning at eleven. Do I even need to go over all the bullshit about coming alone, et cetera?”
“No.”
“Good. Eleven tomorrow.”
“How do I know Ben’s still okay?”
“What’s that?”
“How do I know Ben’s still okay?”
Silence.
“Hello?” Domino pulled the phone away from his ear and saw that the call had ended. He cursed u
nder his breath.
“What? What did they say?”
“They hung up.”
“So we don’t know if he’s okay? We don’t know?”
Domino replayed the phone call in his head.
They’d threatened to throw acid in Ben’s face. If the boy was dead, Domino suspected such a threat wouldn’t have occurred so readily. And the specifics of the threat: In his face. Likely, he or she was looking at Ben as they spoke.
Domino decided not to share this with Kathy. He felt the brutal specifics of acid in her son’s face was something she could do without. What to say instead though?
“Domino?”
His eyes snapped back to Kathy, leaving his train of thought behind. “What?”
She looked annoyed. “How do we know if Ben’s okay?”
The phone in Domino’s hand beeped. A text message. He opened it, stared at the picture message, then hit delete immediately.
“He’s fine,” he said.
“Who was that? What—”
Domino held up a hand. “Just take my word for it, Kathy. He’s okay.”
Domino left the kitchen, taking the phone with him. Hitting delete had spared Kathy, but not him. He’d seen it once, and that was enough to stain. He could not delete the image of Ben tied to a chair, shirtless, his face gone from shock, I’M OK followed by a crude smiley face carved into his chest.
48
Up high, the observation deck.
“This is unreal,” Kelly said.
Monica lit a cigarette. “I’m not easy to please.” She exhaled with a smile. “I’m pleased with this.”
“It’s like a game show,” Kelly said, eyes going over more than a dozen monitors, their images highlighting every corner of every room below with brilliant clarity. Now leaving the monitors and going across the table-long control board with its many knobs and levers and microphones. “No, like one of those survival shows.” Taking the last of the observation deck in, she decided on a marriage of descriptors. “Like a twisted survival game show.”
Monica flicked a switch on the control board. A low hum vibrated from invisible speakers below. She placed her lips to one of the mics, and in her lowest, sexiest radio voice: “Domino’s Demise is filmed before a live studio audience.”
Kelly laughed as Monica’s voice reverberated all around them.
Monica killed the speakers and turned in her swivel chair to face Kelly. Smirking, arms splayed in true ta da! fashion, allowing awe for the splendor of her malevolent design, Monica said: “Welcome to my masterpiece.”
49
Toms River, New Jersey
Domino entered Ernie’s Diner at 10:55 A.M. He scanned booths and tables, looking for significant eyes on him. He definitely got glances, some a little longer than others, but nothing major. This was common when Domino first entered a room. He was black, and he was huge. A sight not often glimpsed outside of an arena. Domino had made peace with such perceptions long ago. Even pitied holders of this perception for seeing the world with such limited scope.
A hostess approached. “Morning. One?”
Domino smiled and shook his head. “I’m meeting someone. Looks like I’m early.”
“Two then?”
Good question.
“It might be more. Can we get a booth in case?”
“Of course.”
The hostess led Domino to an empty booth. He took the side that gave him a clear path to the entrance.
A waitress approached. “Coffee?”
“Please, thank you.”
The waitress smiled and poured Domino a cup. “You’re expecting others?”
“I am, yes.”
“I’ll give you few minutes then?”
“That’d be great. Thank you.”
The waitress smiled again and left.
Domino kept his coffee black and sipped, eyes on the entrance. He glanced at his watch. 11:02.
“Expecting someone?”
Domino thought it was another waitress, perhaps unaware that he’d already had someone taking care of him. He smiled and looked up, ready to respond. But the waitress slid into the booth and smiled across at him.
Domino’s face dropped.
She was not a waitress. She was a ghost.
The ghost said, “Why don’t we try this again? Hello, Domino. Long time.”
Domino’s face was now stone. “Hello, Monica. Not long enough.”
50
Monica Kemp lit a cigarette at the table and blew smoke in Domino’s direction. He did not wave it away.
“You don’t look that surprised,” she said.
“It all makes sense now.”
Monica smirked. “Did you suspect?”
“The thought did occur once or twice.”
“But?”
“I dismissed it.”
“Why?”
“You were dead.”
“But you didn’t really believe that. All those nights at Amy’s. All that time with her and the kids. You thought I was coming back, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“Then why—?” Monica pulled a sudden face of mock revelation "—ohhh…you were trying to fill a void, weren’t you? A daddy void maybe?” She grinned and drew delightfully on her cigarette.
Domino’s jaw clenched until the muscles bulged from the hinges like bolts.
A woman in a booth across from them leaned over. “Excuse me. There’s no smoking in here.”
Monica held up her cigarette. “Sure there is—look.”
The woman pulled a face, stood and approached the cashier.
“I think she’s telling on me,” Monica said.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t reach across this table and snap your neck.”
“Yikes. Forgot how scary you can be. Okay, one reason…well there’s Ben of course. Don’t want to fail your beloved Kathy like you did Amy do you?”
“Don’t waste my time pretending like you plan on setting Ben free.”
Monica blew smoke his way again. “Is that your final answer? You willing to walk away, tell Kathy it was a lost cause?”
“Alright, let’s have it.”
“Whoa, that was a quick one-eighty. You really should try and conceal your buttons a little, Domino.”
“Just go, you crazy bitch.”
Monica laughed. “You come for a ride with me.”
“And?”
“Well that’s it for now.” She slid a set of car keys across the table. “You’re driving.”
Domino glanced down at the keys. “Where we going?”
“A romantic getaway. Got me some jungle fever.”
“Only thing I’d put in you is all the bullets I had.”
She laughed again. “Such hard-boiled wit at the drop of a hat. I really do wish you weren’t so chock-full of morals. We’d have a blast together.”
Domino slid the keys back towards Monica. “I’m not going anywhere with you unless I know Ben will be there.”
Monica glanced down at the keys as if a gift had been returned to her. “Oh I see—you need more proof that Ben is okay? Not much room left on his chest. I suppose we could work something on his face though.”
Domino reached forward and took back the keys.
“Smart move,” she said. “May I have your phone?”
Domino hesitated.
“Just a precaution, Mr. Taylor, sir. Don’t want you trying to send any texts along the way. Texting while driving is one of the leading causes of accidents these days. Giving drunks a run for their money.” She laughed. “Oh God how I wish Amy was here for that one. The fun I could have with her about dead ol’ drunk driving daddy. You know all about that right? How my father and I made it look like an accident?”
Domino said nothing.
Monica’s eyes drifted elsewhere for a moment. In a dream voice she said, “We were so fucking good.” She came to and locked on Domino, the playful demeanor gone for a tick. “I miss my father.”
Now it was Domino who
smirked. “I didn’t miss him—I plunged that knife straight into his fucking throat, first shot.”
Monica pursed her lips and nodded. “Touché…touché.”
Domino’s waitress came to the table. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s no smoking in here.”
Monica only looked at Domino. “We were just leaving, right?”
Domino looked at the waitress. “I’m very sorry; my friend is from out of town. And yes, we’re leaving.”
The waitress nodded and left.
Domino slid his phone over to Monica. She pocketed it.
“I know you’re armed,” she said, “but please use logic. Killing me before you see Ben is akin to killing him yourself. You’re smart enough to know this.”
Domino nodded.
“Shall I take it now, or do you want to wait until we’re in the car?”
“I’d say the car would be the more discreet choice,” Domino said.
“I’d agree.”
Monica stood. “Well then let’s go, big boy. Ben isn’t going to wait forever.”
Domino stood, and Monica let him walk past. Before she followed him out, Monica paused at the booth across from them and dropped her cigarette into the woman’s coffee.
51
Domino drove Monica’s Lexus toward the Pine Barrens, Monica in the passenger seat.
Domino’s weapons had been discarded shortly after pulling away from the diner. Only one weapon remained inside the car, and it was Monica’s.
“This really is more of a metaphor than anything else,” she said, holding up the gun. “You’d be an idiot to try anything before we got there. Still, something tells me you’re the type who needs constant reminding of who’s got who by the short and curlys. Though I must say, I’m more a fan of Brazil myself. Wanna see?”
“No.”
“Prude. You this frigid with Amy?”
Domino glared at her for a second before going back to the road.
“Oh, so you’re over there almost every night, but you’re not hitting that?”
Bad Games- The Complete Series Page 66