Double or Nothing

by Wells, Donald

  April glares at Carol with cold eyes. “Yes, we understand each other perfectly.”

  “Come on Al. I want to go home. June come with us, please?”

  “I can’t Carol. This is where David left me, this is where he’ll come back for me.”

  Carol cast a hard look at April and May. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

  Simon rises off the other sofa. “She won’t be alone. You have my word doctor that I will look after her.”

  Carol smiles at Simon. “Thank you, you’re very kind.”

  “Not at all, this is my family, I will always care for them.”

  Carol hugs June goodbye. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  “Goodbye, don’t worry, David will return to me, he would never leave me.”

  Carol fights to hold back tears. “Yes June.”

  Al and Carol leave and June announces that she’ll be in her room.

  Simon asks April and May if they need anything else and they tell him no. Simon then embraces each of the girls in a genuine display of love and sympathy at their loss. April and May stiffly hug him back and tell him goodnight. When they’re alone with the doors locked, they look at each other and smile.

  “All goes according to plan.” May says.

  “Not exactly, Mr. Parker was supposed to leave David’s body at the scene, not dispose of it like Carlo’s. Now we’ll be subjected to days of June holding onto the hope that David’s still alive, but, all in all I’d say it’s going extremely well.”

  “How soon do you think it will be until they read father’s will?”

  “I really don’t know, but soon we’ll be two very rich young women.”

  “Don’t you mean three? June is in father’s will now too.”

  “Yes of course, the three of us.” April says.

  “June’s going to be such a bore with her mourning routine, but she’ll come around. There are men who could make her forget David.” May says.

  “June will take time, but eventually we’ll be one again. We just have to wean her away from people who remind her of David.”

  “Such as Carol, she really is a tiresome bitch.”

  “Yes, but May for now we just smile and take it. We have to remember that we are in mourning, people will expect us to be quiet and look sad. The police may be looking closely at our behavior, we must be the grieving daughters, and—no sex for a week.”

  “April are you mad? Why don’t you just lock me away in a convent?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic May, when I said no sex for a week I meant no sex with men, we can still amuse ourselves. I bought a whole new batch of toys for us to play with.”

  May smiles lasciviously at April and takes her in her arms, the two girls kiss.

  “Thank God I can count on my sister to see me through this time of trial.”

  “Let’s go to bed May, I feel the need for comforting.”

  The two make their way to their room and open the door to find a tall, handsome man sitting on the edge of their bed. He’s holding a dildo the size of an eggplant and smiling at it. The man saunters over and closes the door.

  “Who the hell are you?” They ask in unison.

  “How the hell did you get in here?” April says.

  “I flashed a badge and walked on in.”

  May looks him over. “You’re a policeman?”

  “No. It was a fake badge.”

  April picks up the phone. “I’m calling the police.”

  “Go ahead, and then I’ll tell them all about Mr. Parker.”

  April puts the phone down and glares at the man through squinted eyes.

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Marco Salvatori—I’m your partner.”

  “Salvatori? You’re related to Al?” April asks.

  Marco nods to himself. “So, that was Vinny I saw standing by that limo. I should’ve known, there couldn’t be two like him.”

  “Who’s Vinny?” May asks.

  “Never mind,” Marco says. He sits down in a wing chair near the desk on the left side of the room. April and May follow him over, but stay standing. “How do you two know Al?”

  “He’s dating the sister of our brother-in-law to be.” April says.

  “Oh, the doctor, I heard about that. Fucking Al, like it would fucking kill him to date a neighborhood girl.”

  “You don’t like your brother do you, Marco is it?” April says.

  “It’s Marco, and he’s my cousin not my brother.”

  “Oh, and who is this Mr. Parker you were talking about?” April says.

  “Don’t even try it bitch, I own you. You were stupid enough to write down instructions for the hit on your father.” Marco tosses one leg over the other, revealing the tip of an ankle holster.

  April’s cheeks redden in anger. “I don’t like being called bitch and I’m not stupid! If I ever wrote such instructions they would be typed, only a fool would use their own handwriting.”

  Marco smirks at her. “You’re right, they were typed and sealed in an envelope, by the way, how do you seal an envelope?”

  “I lick it.” May says, she reaches over and feels Marco’s arm. “Umm, I love muscles.”

  Marco is distracted for a moment, he uncrosses his legs and gives May an odd look. “Ah, right, you lick it, and when you licked it you left behind your DNA.”

  April now turns pale. “DNA from an envelope? They can do that?”

  “They can. Now, do you still want to pretend you don’t know who Mr. Parker is, hmm?”

  “Damn it!” April says. “What do you want?”

  May sits on Marco’s lap. “Before we say any more I think we should check him for a wire.” She kisses him and runs her hands over his body. “I don’t feel a wire, but there’s definitely something down his pants.”

  “May! He’s trying to blackmail us.”

  May reaches down to unbuckle Marco’s belt.

  “You know what they say April: when life hands you lemons, make lemonade.”

  Down the hall, June sits huddled naked in a corner of the shower, hugging her knees to her chest while crying. June feels more fear than she has ever known, but it is not the fear that makes her cry. Her tears fall for David, for the uncertainty of his fate.

  Where is he? She thinks over and over, Where is he? He would not leave her alone.

  “Nothing could keep me away from you June.”

  David had spoken those words to her just two days ago, right before proposing marriage.

  If he could be here, he would be, that means he can’t. June thinks, and God help her the only possible thing she can think of that would ever separate them is death. June cries in the shower for a long while as the spray washes her tears away.

  25

  Wednesday July 9th, 10:03 a.m.

  April, May and June are in the main conference room at the law offices of Stein, Roberts and Collinsworth. April and May sit in an expectant and alert manner while awaiting the reading of Blake’s will, as June sits slumped in her seat with a faraway look in her eyes.

  David has been missing for thirty-one days and June has scarcely slept or eaten in all that time. June’s hair is hurriedly combed and her eyes are red from both lack of sleep and daily bouts of crying.

  Jacob Stein sits at the head of a long table and looks sadly at the three women who are wearing identical black dresses. He is a handsome man of fifty-seven who hides his age well with strict eating habits, exercise and hair dye, his grooming is impeccable and his manner is haughty.

  Stein sits in front of shelves filled with law books. The room’s remaining three sides are oak paneling and floor to ceiling windows, the windows afford a fabulous view of Central Park. Stein clears his throat and begins.

  “I would like to say again how deeply sorry I am for your loss. Your father was a great man. I will try to make this difficult chore as brief as possible. To begin with, the police have issued this statement:

  ‘The murder of Blake Davenport was a co
ntract killing believed to have been commissioned by one David John Manning. It is believed that Mr. Manning acted alone in procuring this murder and that his fiancée June Davenport had no knowledge or complicity in the matter. Mr. Manning is believed to have hired a professional killer to break into the home of Mr. Davenport and murder him on the night of Saturday June 7th. The coroner believes that the time of death took place between seven p.m. and nine p.m. Upon arriving home after a night out, Mr. Manning received a call luring him to his former residence where it is alleged the contract killer and he argued over the killer’s payment. It is believed the paid assassin then shot and killed Mr. Manning, and subsequently, disposed of his body.’

  June shifts uneasily in her seat at Stein’s mention of David’s assumed death.

  Stein continues. ‘Crime scene evidence and forensics support this assessment of the scene. Officially, Mr. Manning is listed as missing, presumed dead. The identity of the murderer of Blake Davenport is unknown, but of course, remains under investigation. Until such time as further evidence or other developments occur in this case, these findings will stand.’

  Stein finishes reading and picks up a stack of papers. “You will all receive copies of the will. It is much too involved to go over in its entirety. Today I will simply give you an overview and inform you of the parts that pertain directly to the three of you. First the overview: Blake Davenport left an estate estimated at three point seven billion dollars. Tax concerns dictate that most of your inheritance not be direct but that you three benefit from the estate’s wealth nonetheless. In accordance with—”

  “Wait a minute.” May interrupts. “Are you telling me that my sisters and I aren’t just going to split the estate three ways?”

  “Yes, an estate of this size is a complicated and intricate creation.” Stein says. “Were your father to have simply instructed us to sell everything, a process that might take several years by the way, you could then theoretically divide the estate three ways, however, due to the current tax codes you would be dividing only fifteen to twenty percent of the estate’s current worth. The government’s appetite for tax dollars is rapacious, fortunately for you your father was very clever.”

  With a worried tone, April asks. “What is the end result Mr. Stein? How much do we get?”

  “Your father left various sums of money to over a dozen people, the largest of which is a one million dollar bestowment to a Mr. Simon Phelps. The rest of the will concerns the bulk of the estate. Your father has set it up so that the estate converted into a foundation. All current properties and possessions are now owned by the Davenport Foundation, save for one piece of property, which is being directly bequeathed. You three are the Chairs of the foundation and will have sole responsibility over the choice of charities and organizations that the foundation will bestow its estimated annual gifts of three hundred million dollars. Blake has a board of advisors already in place to make those decisions if you choose not to. In addition, you have each become heir to one hundred million dollars.”

  “One hundred million each is all we get?” May says.

  Stein, a man who once worked nights in a foundry while going through law school, looks at May flatly for a good five seconds before continuing.

  “The one hundred million dollars is what your father wanted to directly bequeath to you. Essentially your lifestyle will not change. The homes in the Bahamas, Mexico and France are still there and still available for your use, as well as the private jet. The only difference is that they are now foundation property.”

  “You said all properties were converting to the foundation save one, which one Mr. Stein?” April asks.

  “Davenport Manor, Blake has left it and all of its contents to June.”

  For the first time, June looks to be paying attention to what’s being said. She looks around the room, puzzled, and then focuses on Mr. Stein.

  “Did you just say that father left me the house?”

  “I beg your pardon Miss Davenport, but I cannot tell the three of you apart. The estate was left to June. If you are June, the estate is yours. Your father also made provisions to provide for its upkeep and yearly expenditures.”

  “But I can’t take it. That house is April and May’s. I was only visiting.”

  “These are your father’s final wishes young lady. It is what he wanted for you.”

  “I do hope you’ll allow us to stay June.” April says, her voice dripping with resentment.

  “Of course April, it’s your home; it will always be your home.”

  “That’s very kind of you to say June.” May says. Her own voice filled with acrimony.

  “If you ladies have no further questions, that can conclude this meeting, and again, my heartfelt condolences.”

  The women rise to leave, June tells April and May that she will join them in the limo soon. There is a question she wants to ask Mr. Stein.

  When they are alone, Stein turns to June. “How may I help you?”

  “I would like to make out a will.”

  “That would be fine and a wise decision, just make an appointment on your way out.”

  “All I want to do is take everything that was left to me by my father and transfer it to my sisters equally, is that possible?”

  “Yes, are there any other assets?” Stein asks.

  “No…I have nothing now.”

  Something in June’s voice and comportment cause Stein to break out of his pompous manner and speak to her with genuine concern.

  “You seem depressed Miss Davenport, is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No, no one can help me.”

  “Let me give my special condolences to you on the death of your fiancé. No matter what the police allege I’m sure the loss hurts deeply, I’m sorry.”

  “But David’s not—thank you Mr. Stein, goodbye.”

  June had started to protest the assertion that David is dead as she has every day for the past thirty-one, but couldn’t. Something horrible has happened to David, something that keeps him from returning to her. What short of death could do that? June has no answer.

  Is David dead?

  June has asked herself this question every day since he’s been gone. The answer is becoming clearer and clearer. David is gone. That much is obvious, and something else has become increasing clear to June over the past weeks. Without David, life is meaningless.

  Every day is now as lifeless and colorless as her days spent locked away in San Francisco. However, thanks to David’s love, her mind is healed, and instead of passing time in a dream-like fog, time is now like a crystal clear prism disbursing the pain of loneliness and loss in a hundred different directions, all leading back to her heart.

  David was her best friend, her lover, and the other half of her soul. Life now holds no meaning for June Davenport, no reason, and no light.

  There is a suffering within her that only the return of her love can banish, or perhaps, the ending of her life.

  26

  Sunday August 3rd, 7:55 p.m.

  Carol closes the garage door at her home in Westchester County as Al takes her hand in his.

  They go inside by way of the kitchen door and Carol sits at the table. Al goes to the refrigerator and takes out two beers. He slides a bottle over to Carol and then takes the top off his own.

  Carol has that faraway look again. Al waves his hand in front of her face. Carol breaks out of her reverie and looks across at him.

  “I guess that’s the worst of it for awhile, packing up Davey’s apartment was one of the saddest things I’ve ever done.”

  “I know it was tough honey, but it was time.” Al says.

  “Al, I won’t believe Davey’s dead.”

  “I know what you mean. I still expect to see him when I come over here. Say, have you seen June lately? How is she holding up?”

  “She’s not doing well at all. When I saw her last week I couldn’t believe how much weight she’s lost. Simon told me that he has to sit with her while she eats o
r she won’t eat at all. She’s severely depressed. I called Dr. Meyer and she was actually kind enough to go and see June at the house. The doctor told me that June needs therapy for her depression, but June won’t go. I’m really starting to fear for her. She just won’t leave that house anymore. She says that if Davey comes back he’ll look for her there. Al…that was the first time I ever heard her say if, always before it was when.”

  “What are April and May doing about this?”

  “Absolutely nothing, the house is like a non-stop party some days, at least that’s what Simon tells me. Those girls care only about themselves.”

  “They’re twisted all right. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. Since we know Davey didn’t hire a hitter to kill Blake, who did? Who had something to gain by getting rid of Blake and framing Davey?”

  Carol wrinkles her brow as she ponders Al’s question.

  “You’re thinking of April and May aren’t you? Oh, their hormones work overtime I’ll grant you, but I don’t think they’re murderous, besides, why would they frame Davey?”

  “Maybe they felt threatened by Davey and June’s coming marriage, or they thought that he’d make a good scapegoat for Blake’s murder. If that’s the case then they were right, the police have all but dropped the investigation. They think it was Davey who hired the hitter and that’s that.”

  Carol gazes absently out one of the kitchen windows after taking a sip of beer. “I’ve been thinking of hiring a private detective or some kind of investigator, I want to know what’s happened to my brother.”

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt. I could look into it and get you the name of a good one.”