by Kelly Shade
A few minutes passed, and Jane saw Brad leaving through the front door. She knew she had to wait before she headed for the door, too. Otherwise, she could raise suspicion. When Brad came back in he looked rattled, yet determined that clarity would be found at the bottom of a glass.
Jane slowly stood up and while walking to the exit she looked around. Security guards were everywhere. When she got out in the courtyard, the night summer breeze unfurled her hair. She glanced at the few people that were outside - a few of Mr. Jefferson’s goons and a couple of the party’s guests. To avoid prying eyes, she leaned on the fountain and lit a cigarette. It was a good excuse if somebody asked her why she was alone outside. She then slowly kneeled next to the flowers and with one hand started furtively probing for the little velvet bag. She felt the soft fabric under her fingers. Brad had left the sack in the exact place she told him. She stood up and calmly walked toward the gate as if she didn’t just rob one of the wealthiest families in California. After smiling at the gatekeeper, Jane went down the street. She had parked her car a block away the night before the party. She got in and drove off.
Maybe most people wouldn’t know what to do with stolen diamonds, but Jane had done this many times before. She had a buyer for everything. He owned a pawn shop in downtown LA, so that’s where she was headed. As she pulled up in front of the shop, a short, fat guy, who was smoking, leaned on the door.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Jane Blake coming to visit her old pal. I suppose you have something for me? Or did you just come by to see me?” He stretched his fat, short arm towards Jane. She pretended she hadn’t seen him do it.
“Three-caret diamonds, fifty of them.” Jane handed him the little velvet bag.
“Seriously! Where did you get those babies from? You started robbing jewelry stores or something?” He shuffled them around his palm with his greasy finger. “You never fail to surprise me. Who is the unlucky bastard this time?” There was a short awkward silence, and Jane’s cold look ended the small talk. “Alrighty then, come on in.”
He led Jane to a small door at the end of the shop. They passed a few dozen shelves with stuff from the 80’s, all covered with a thick layer of dust. You didn’t have to be a genius to know that the pawn business was just a front. A front for something illegal and dangerous. Jane never asked what this guy was dealing with. She just didn’t want to know.
After they went through the door, which had a sign "Staff Only," he locked it behind them and pointed to a large wooden table in the middle of what looked like a storage room. The poor lighting, the racks along the walls, the musty smell. She wanted to get it over with and get the hell away from here.
“So . . . let’s see what these stones have to tell us!” He popped a small jeweler’s magnifying glass out of his pocket and started looking at the diamonds. “Fine, real fine! So where did you say you got them from?”
“I didn’t,” Jane’s voice was as cold as ice.
“Okay, okay, I was just asking!” He was obviously intimidated by her. “Anyway, all of them are perfectly cut, three-caret, white diamonds. And fifty of them for that! I don’t really think I have that much dough lying around to take all of ‘em!” He looked at her with his greedy little eyes. “Can we think of something? I have . . . ”
“Look, I knew what I was getting myself into when I came to you, Garry. I know your game, and I’m definitely not in the mood to play it, so just get on with it.”
“I’m hurt, Blake!” he was a bad actor.
“Right, just give me whatever you can so I can get outta here!”
“Don’t be like that, Hun! Here. That’s all I have right now! Okay? I’ll owe you big time!”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s all you have!” she said frowning at the three duffle bags that Garry got out of a nearby locker.
“Look Jane, either you take it or leave it!” he said in a firm voice. “I do like you, but not that much to take this disrespect much longer!”
“Oh, did I struck a nerve, Garry!” she said spitefully, grabbing the bags.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, you did! I’m your friend . . . maybe even more than that?” His thin lips extended into a grin.
“Ha, keep dreaming, playa!” said Jane, turning her back to him and walking through the door.
Jane wanted to go home. She was driving down the streets of nighttime Los Angeles. She turned on the music. The song “8 Mile” was on top of the player’s list. Eminem was killing it. Music was the only thing that could make her feel better. Jane was staring at the road and trying to match the rhythm while tapping on the steering wheel. Although there were three large bags of money on the back seat of her car, she looked sad. Money didn’t matter for her. She always wanted one thing, the truth. Only the truth.
She got to her place and parked in the driveway. A huge two-story house with a big fenced garden was what she called home. She shut the engine off and went in. The first thing she did when she entered was to disarm the alarm. The whole place was still and scary quiet. She turned the lights on. The first floor looked fancy and expensive. The room was furnished with designer furniture. Everything was so tidy and clean as if no one was living there. Jane went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of expensive old whiskey from the minibar. She took a glass and filled it with ice.
On the big shelf with many books was a hidden, locked drawer. She opened it and took a notebook and big folder with documents and went in the backyard through the sliding glass doors of the living room. The deck lit up as soon as she stepped onto the patio and the view was terrific. A huge pool with a Jacuzzi at the end was surrounded by small LED lights in shades of purple flashing smoothly and making the water look alive. There were a dozen sun beds, all under big umbrellas, a barbecue, a rattan table with swing benches and beautiful small palm trees. The weather was hot with a light breeze which was carrying the smell of the ocean.
Jane sat on the sun bed and sorted the documents from the folder. There was an old money transfer document, a few hospital discharge forms, an old birth certificate with many blacked-out spots, a photo of a group of doctors and a stack of receipts and newspaper clippings.
“There has to be something I am not seeing here!” she spoke to herself.
All of the papers looked to have nothing in common, but for Jane, they obviously did because she was carefully putting them in order. She got the money transfer document and lit it up with a little flashlight. She was trying to read the bank stamp, but it was old and faded. It took her a few minutes to read the name of the city--Chicago--written on the stamp. Now, she was trying to decode the name of the bank. It would be easier for her if she knew the identity of the receiver, but the space was blank. At least the sender’s name wasn’t blacked out. It was Lilia Jordan.
She finished her whiskey, so she went for a refill. As she was filling her glass, she remembered that the money was still in the back seat of her car. With the glass in her hand, she went to take the score from tonight’s heist. As she was too lazy to put the money in her safe, Jane just dropped the bags next to the couch. Her laptop was on a glass coffee table in front of the sofa and when she saw it, she decided on a hunch to check the house’s security system.
Everything looked fine, so she went back to the sun bed in the garden.
The night was quiet, too quiet even. Jane got a pack of cigarettes from the little purse she carried while she was at the Jefferson’s party and wondered if she should light one up. She usually wasn’t a smoker, but on some occasions, she indulged herself. Also, she found smoking was an excellent excuse for being in places you shouldn’t be. Deciding it was a moment of victory, she lit up a cigarette and laid on the sun bed next to the one covered with documents. She gazed at the starry sky. “Beautiful” Jane thought and didn’t move her eyes away until the last smoke left her lungs. It was so quiet and relaxing that she almost forgot she had work to do. It took her ten minutes to convince herself to start again.
The first thing, that got her attention as s
he was sitting and looking at the document-filled sun bed, was an old photo. It showed a doctors’ gathering. Maybe after a conference or some special occasion in front of the EVA’s hospital in Chicago. Jane mumbled while pointing at every person on that photo “Marvin Adams . . .hmmm, that’s the only one I know except Lilia,” It was useless to stare at it, so she picked up the other paper. It was very important for her to find something. She was entranced by these papers. Jane was so wrapped up in her work that she couldn’t hear the steps coming from behind her.
Chapter 2
Blake & Gray
A man was looking at Jane through the windows of her own living room. A tall blonde man, dressed casually in wide-leg jeans and a black tank top. He didn’t look like a thief at all. He was just staying there and watching her. After a few minutes of staring, he looked around. The laptop on the coffee table caught his attention. He saw the money bags next to the couch, unzipped one of them a little bit and spotted cash. But the small fortune wasn’t interesting to the man.
He went back to his previous spot. He stood a little bit longer at the window and then went to the computer and opened it. It was password protected. After incredibly fast typing he was about to crack Jane’s password, when suddenly something hit him. He fell off the armchair. Blake had placed a very precise kick on his back. He was now face down on the ground. Jane turned him so she could see his face. With a gun at his forehead and a knee on his throat, Blake asked with irritation in her voice, “Who the hell are you?”
The man looked her age. Around twenty-seven to thirty, she thought.
He was afraid to move. He gestured to let him go. Jane slowly removed her knee from his throat and stepped aside, ready to shoot. He stood up, and after coughing for a while, he spoke.
“Ryan Gray. My name is Ryan Gray.” His voice was trembling.
“What are you doing in my house?” Jane narrowed her eyes waiting for him to lie.
“Well, it is a long story. Can we sit and talk?” Ryan scratched his neck awkwardly.
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“If you try something I don’t like, I’ll break your neck, or I’ll shoot you. Whichever comes first,” Jane said calmly.
There was no surprise in her eyes.
“Understood.” He swallowed loudly. “You are not very hospitable, huh?”
“Especially when someone comes uninvited!” Jane smiled sarcastically and walked him to the backyard still with the gun pointed at him. “Give me the pistol you have attached to your ankle. Don’t think I haven’t seen it.”
Ryan gave her his weapon with silent displeasure. Jane took it and put it in her back pocket.
“So, Ryan Gray, what did you need from my laptop?” She waved at the sun bed with her gun to make him sit down.
“I know what you are doing. You are awesome and . . . I wanted to make you need my help. I just want to work with you,” Mr. Gray said quietly. He looked nervous, and it was like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. For an athletic guy, covered with tattoos, it was weird - he was really afraid of Jane.
“What makes you think I would choose you in particular to help me?”
“Because I’m the best at what I do and no one else can clean up the mess I had in mind for your laptop.” He made a shy smile and looked up at her under his eyebrows.
“And what exactly is that thing you do?” Jane found the situation funny.
“I’m a hacker, one of the best,” Ryan said with a serious face. “No, I’m the best.”
“Okay, Mr. Big Hacker, I like the confidence. Now it makes sense how you passed by my security system,” she said thoughtfully. “Why do you need me and what do you know about me?” Jane was trying not to laugh, but it was hilarious that she had a fan.
“I know that you are a great investigator. You know what people think. You understand how their minds work. You know hypnosis. You make your money as a con artist, so you steal a lot. But you also help the police put criminals behind bars. Your name is Jane Blake and . . . pretty much that’s it.” Gray was embarrassed that his plan didn’t work out.
“Hmmm . . . okay, you got my attention. How do you know all of that? I’m not in the system.” Jane was enjoying the conversation and the way Ryan was trying to look less uncomfortable than he actually was. “Let me make you a deal_impress me; tell me the real reason you need my help, and I’ll think about your offer. And don’t even think about lying. I’ll know!” The confidence Jane had made her look way more dangerous than the thin, not very tall woman she was.
“Okay, no pressure then,” he smiled “Can you put the gun down, please?” Ryan asked politely, but she didn’t move “Please!” insisted Gray.
Jane carefully lowered the weapon and put it next to her, ready to grab it in case he made a move though, somehow, she knew she wouldn’t need it. She nodded for him to continue.
“So let me start a few years back. There was a serial killer, nobody knew who he was, the police didn’t have anything to work with; he was killing more and more people. One day, out of nowhere, he left a piece of evidence. It happened after somebody stole a huge amount of money from his vacation home. Of course, the man called the police and invited them in to describe the losses. Instead of that, the policemen found a clue incriminating him. I’m talking about the rich therapist who was killing for years, Dr. Gordon Cox. The evidence was placed in his house, easy for the police to find. And the funny part was that he called them!” Gray was so excited “So then I asked myself, What are the odds that a psychopath with high IQ would leave key evidence like this? So I started investigating; I cracked all of his work computers, home laptops_everything. I started digging through his files, and everything was clean. Except for one patient by the name of Carry Springs who had two sessions with him. I tried to find her, but there was no real person with the details from his files. I couldn’t find more information, but I was sure this was not a coincidence. After I researched for months, I finally quit. But a year later the same thing happened–rich killer magically caught. And one more and one more and one more. All of them caught after someone robbed them. So I started my investigation again. I was chasing you for three years. I thought a crew of con artists were behind this. You were always a step ahead. Until tonight. When I heard about the unsolved murder of a girl with Brad Jefferson as a suspect, I knew you would make your move. I went to that party as a waiter. I was hoping you would be there. When I saw that beautiful woman next to Jefferson, I knew in my gut she was the person I was looking for. I went out, and I found your hidden car, I put a GPS tracker on it, and I went back to the party.”
Ryan took a long breath and said, “By the way two hours after you left with the diamonds, Mrs. Jefferson called the police, who found the earring, and arrested Brad Jefferson for the murder. You will hear about it on the morning news. Oh, and the police and his family think he stole the diamonds. I don’t know how you do it, but I’m impressed with your work,” he finished with a smile. “So?”
Jane had a serious look on her face. She always worked alone; she didn’t know how to be a team player. Even though she looked calm on the surface, Jane wasn’t calm at all. She definitely didn’t want him by her side, but it was easy to see this guy wouldn’t stop chasing her until she agreed to help him or worse–until he screwed up something and she got caught.
“Are you going to say something?” He lifted his eyebrows. It was apparent he wanted Jane not just as a work partner. His hazel playful eyes gave him away.
“Okay, we can try working together. And please, get rid of that stupid expression of a horny teenager.”
Blake was a bit annoyed “Tell me why exactly do you need me. I’m smart enough to know it is not because of the money.”
Jane leaned back on the sun bed and, looking up, realized it was almost morning. The sun was just rising, the fresh air and the birds’ songs made her think of the most important thing in the morning, coffee. She grabbed the empty whiskey glass and said, “I’m go
ing to make a coffee; you want one, right?” She put the gun in her jeans.
“Urgh . . . yeah.” Ryan was confused by the sudden change of subject, but he followed her.
They entered the kitchen in silence. Jane started making the coffee. In her head were so many thoughts. She knew this was the beginning of a new life, but she didn’t know if she liked it or not. But why did she let him find her? Maybe this was a good change, she thought, or perhaps it was going to be a disaster. Jane was good at reading people, and that was the only reason she was considering accepting the offer. He had kind eyes filled with sadness and a bit of anger. Something horrible happened to this man. Jane could see he was ready for everything to finish what he had started. And maybe when she saw him in that funny waiter uniform at that party, she liked him. Jane knew he was chasing her but preferred not to stop him. After three years she decided to let him find her. Maybe deep down she didn’t want to be alone anymore; maybe she needed a partner but didn’t want to admit it even to herself.
They went back outside, each carrying a cup of coffee. Ryan was afraid to start talking. He knew he had to act carefully with this girl. He preferred to let her speak first, just in case.
“Okay, stop me if I’m wrong,” Jane said quietly and looked at him “You are searching for something or someone. I’ll say, someone. This, someone, made something horrible happen to you. He killed a person you loved, and he got away with it. Am I doing good?”
“Yes.”
At this point Ryan was horrified. He didn’t like the fact that she could read him like an open book.
“Well if you want, I can go on?” Ryan mumbled with a trembling voice.
“It was someone very close to you,” she said. Jane didn’t even hear him. “Parent or wife judging by the tattoo on your hand.” She pointed to the drawing on his forearm. It was an amber stone shaped like a heart with the date 11th of February on it. “You don’t trust the police, so maybe it was covered up.”