When Fates Collide

by Isabelle Richards

  “Did you?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

  “Look at him and look at me. How would you rate his job performance? Now, can you get me out of here? I know where the money is.”

  Lorenzo stops in his tracks. “What? How? We’ve looked everywhere for that money.”

  I kick Not Charlie in the gut one more time as I walk past. “He was right. Once you get talking, the truth eventually comes out. It came to me as I was babbling about something else.”

  We leave the barn and walk to his town car. Before we get in, I stop to give him a hug. “Thank you, Lorenzo.”

  “You’re welcome, but it doesn’t seem like you needed me.”

  “I was ten seconds away from trouble when I got lucky. It could have easily gone the other way. If you hadn’t come, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “I was always coming,” he replies. “It just took longer than expected to get things settled. I couldn’t just barge into a cartel operation without calling first. There’s etiquette to all of this.”

  “Underworld etiquette? Does one take a class in that?”

  He laughs. “No such luck. This is how we weed people out. Those that learn quickly and play by the rules make it. If you don’t, you don’t last for very long.” He gives me squeeze and says, “Now get in, before we freeze.”

  I don’t need to be told twice.

  “Lily, meet Albert,” Lorenzo says once we’ve settled into the back seat, pointing to the very large man driving. Albert must weigh three hundred pounds—earned, I suppose, by eating too many cannoli. Through his reflection in the rearview mirror, I see he has deep pockmarks on his face that I guess are from a rough adolescence burdened by acne.

  “Everyone calls me Big Al.”

  “You smell familiar, Big Al. Is it fair for me to guess you were a part of my previous kidnapping?”

  He winces.

  “It’s all good. Consider your karma scrubbed clean by coming to save me.”

  “So where to, boss?” Big Al asks.

  Lorenzo looks to me. “Lily?”

  “Potomac. Frankie’s house. You haven’t razed it yet, have you?”

  Lorenzo looks at me with curiosity. I can tell the man is not used to being surprised. “No. It has remained untouched since the first fire.”

  “Then we’re golden.” I lean my head back and close my eyes. My body feels strange. Floaty and euphoric. I feel my heart pounding, but it seems distant, as if it’s outside my body.

  “I know the way,” Al says.

  They allow me to rest for a bulk of the drive. In my head, I’m formulating a plan. In order to pull it off, I’ll need my wits about me.

  When I notice we’re close to Potomac, I say, “Thank you again for coming to my rescue. For the future, can you please give me some way to contact you??

  He shakes his head. “I contact you, Lily. That’s how this works.”

  “I get the whole cloak-and-dagger thing. But perhaps this all could have been avoided if we had been able to stay in touch. Can we get a bat signal or something for you?”

  “Bat signal?”

  “You know, something for me to flash up into the sky when trouble is lurking.”

  “My dear, with the way trouble finds you, that signal would be up non-stop,” he replies. “Speaking of trouble, you may have escaped your captor there, but you still have very real problems with some gentlemen from Mexico.”

  “I think I know where the money is. If I’m right, I’d like for you to arrange a meeting. I’ll deliver their money, and they can promise to forget I was ever born. I won’t spend my life looking over my shoulder. I want them to look me in the eye and swear that I’m clear.”

  He taps his fingers on his legs. “These men look people in the eye and lie all day. Their assurances mean very little.”

  “That’s where you come in. You’ll keep them honest. I know you will. I’ve played this out in my head a million times already. There’s only one way I walk away from this alive, and that’s if they feel good about letting me go. I can’t be a threat of any kind. If I can’t make them okay with that, then I might as well just off myself now. You promised me protection, and I’m begging you to deliver.”

  “What makes you think I can provide that level of protection?”

  “You’ll work it out. And if you don’t, they’ll kill me. Anyway, it won’t matter if the money isn’t there. If it’s there, can you arrange a meeting?”

  “Yes,” he says with a nod.

  “You know how to contact them? Was their info on the bottom of the ad for the bounty on my head?”

  He laughs. “You certainly do make things colorful. I was speaking to them before I came to collect you. They’re expecting me to find some sort of resolution here as well.”

  “So we’re all on the same page then? I feel stupid for stressing myself coming up with a plan that was so obvious to everyone else.”

  “Don’t feel that way. You’re new at this. Consider this your internship in… what did you call it, underworld etiquette?”

  We pull into the driveway and park next to the garage, or what’s left of it anyway. Just a short time ago, this lot was where it all began. Forced into a stinky police car on a hot summer’s day.

  There’s very little still here. Just the sad ruins of my former home. As I get out and walk around, my mind flashes back to times with Ash. Looking at them as still shots, I can see how someone might have thought we were happy. Maybe at certain moments we were. But those times were few and far between. Most of the time, we were mutually indifferent. No wonder he had no problem serving me up to the cartel.

  When I was asked where Ash had hidden his money, I’d thought of all the random hiding places I used to find his crap—drugs, phones, condoms, money, porn. He had hiding places everywhere. Usually, he got caught because he screwed it up. Like the time he put pot in the hot tub filter without sealing the bag. Clogged up the filter and caused the whole system to burn up.

  I’d completely forgotten about the pool filter. The underground pool filter. Franklin hadn’t liked all the machines being out in the open. He thought it looked tacky. So when they carved up the land to put in the pool, they left room to build a filter room next to it. One of the pieces of pool deck was designed to lift up to a set of stairs leading down to a little room containing the pool filter, heater, and pumps. I had only been down there once, years ago, when the pot had burned up the filter when the pool guy was on vacation. After that, I’d never thought about it again.

  I walk across the yard to the pool deck. After pausing to say a prayer, I lift the trap door and climb down the stairs. By the time I reach the bottom of the short stairwell, I can already see that I’m right. Clear plastic bins sit stacked along the far wall. Bins stuffed with cash, even more than five million by the look of it.

  I run up the stairs to see Lorenzo and Al waiting for the results of my treasure hunt. “Call your Mexican friends. I have a debt to settle.”

  Twenty-Nine

  I’d be the first one to admit that I put on a great show of confidence. Some swagger and a whole lot of bravado will convince a lot of people of a lot of things. I sure hope it works this time because I’m scared shitless. Why did I want to meet with this guy again? Why can’t Lorenzo just handle it? What the hell was I thinking?

  There’s no backing out now. This meeting will either lead to my clemency or my execution. Either way, I pray that, after this, it’ll all be over and over quickly.

  I smooth down my hair, as though it could make a difference to the outcome. They just want their money. I’m sure they couldn’t care less that I look like I’ve rolled around in a barn. “So tell me who they are again?”

  “You don’t need to know their names. Nor do you want to,” Lorenzo explains. “But these are the men of authority for their organization in this area.”

  I play with the cross around my neck. “So, I’m not meeting the head guy, right?”

  “Lily, no one ever meets the hea
d guy. How do you think I’ve lasted as long as I have? No one knows who I am. Even so, the man you’re meeting will be able to provide you with the assurances you’re looking for.”

  I will my hands to stop shaking, but I fail miserably.

  He reaches over to clasp my hands and pulls them to his chest. “If you go in there like a scared little girl, you’ll be treated as such, and I don’t expect you’ll like the results.”

  I look him square in the eye. “Lorenzo, I’ve got this. I just have to get my jitters out now.”

  The car comes to a stop. I hadn’t been paying attention during the drive—not a wise move from a survival standpoint. I have no idea where we are. Too late to worry about that now, I suppose.

  We’re in a park of sorts. There’s a lake with a small pier, and the beginnings of trails lead off into the woods. A sign that states that camping is prohibited. As it’s the middle of the night, I suspect we’re completely alone out here. No one to hear me scream.

  Lorenzo motions for me to get out of the car. He makes no move to follow, though, so I guess I’m on my own. There I see a man sitting on a bench looking out at the lake. Like Lorenzo, he’s rather unassuming. He’s probably about fifty-five, and everything about him is run-of-the-mill—average height, average weight. He’d blend into any crowd in America, right down to the Members Only jacket. I’m assuming he’s my date.

  I slowly walk toward him, trying to gather any confidence I can muster. Or at least fake it ‘til I make it. I sit down next to him but have no idea what to say, so I wait for him to speak. I can tell from his breathing pattern that he’s calm. I try to mimic his rhythm in hopes of finding that same level of ease.

  It’s freezing out with a slight breeze, and I’m shivering. Focusing on keeping my teeth from chattering helps deter any thoughts of my impending doom.

  The man turns to me and raises an eyebrow. Looking me over with curiosity, he touches my chin and tilts my face to the right and left to examine both sides. “Looks like you’ve experienced Mr. Snyder.”

  “Ah, is that his real name? Well then, yes, I have experienced some of his fine hospitality. He signed me up for his deluxe spa package, a lovely combination of deep tissue beating and electroshock therapy. I’ll be sure to write him a stellar review on Yelp.”

  The man doesn’t respond at first, and his silence makes my stomach jump to my throat. I’m going to get myself killed because I can’t keep my sarcasm under control.

  Finally, he looks me in the eye and says, “You’re funny. A little humor is good.” He doesn’t laugh, but I can tell he’s amused. “You wanted this meeting, Ms. Clark. Tell me what I can do for you.”

  The wind picks up and chills shake my frame. “I’d like to give you your money and then have your assurance that my debt will be cleared.”

  “Our mutual friend has told me that you did, in fact, find the money.”

  I dig my nails into the wooden slats of the bench. “Yes, I found it this evening.”

  He scoffs. “I find that surprising. We’ve had a lot of people looking for that money for quite some time now. People who are very good at what they do.”

  “Charlie—I mean Mr. Snyder—said something that sparked a memory. I swear I had no idea until a few hours ago.”

  He looks at me critically through narrowed eyes. With each passing second, I convince myself more and more that he’s not buying my story. I hold my breath, anticipating a strike. “I believe you,” he says. “Based on the way you look, Mr. Snyder did his best to make you very uncomfortable. If you knew where it was, I’m sure you would have told him. But then, if that were the case, you’d be dead.”

  Gulp.

  “But then again,” he says with a shrug. “I hear that he was the one to lose all his teeth in your relationship. You certainly know how to turn the tides, Ms. Clark.”

  Could I have possibly earned this guy’s respect? My muscles relax a bit, and I loosen my grip on the bench. “I just want this to be over. I want to give you the money and go on with my life. I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my days.”

  “I can understand that. Uncertainty is an unforeseen consequence of our lifestyle. From what I understand, this was not a path you chose. Rather, it was chosen for you.”

  I snort. “Only if you don’t think I made that choice when I married a spineless ass-hat.” I actually get a smile out of him at that one.

  “I was never fond of your husband.”

  “Late husband,” I correct. “And neither was I. See, we have so many things in common.”

  “While I can see that this wasn’t your choice, I’m sure you can understand that you pose a risk. Uninsured risks must be eliminated for my organization to survive.”

  “On the surface, I can see how you may think that, but in reality, I know absolutely nothing. I know Ash was in debt, that his debt was placed on my head, and that I met some guy in a park to talk about spa packages. Hell, I don’t even use any of your… products. I wouldn’t make a good witness for anything. But more importantly, why would I say anything? What would I have to gain?”

  “People do funny things, Ms. Clark. Especially ones who live with FBI agents.”

  I think about my response to that for a moment, choosing my words carefully. “I’ve lived with an FBI agent for months and never once have I told him about our friend over there.” I nod in the direction of the parking lot. “Also, I just spent the day being tortured for information—beaten, shocked. He even gave me a truth serum, and I still didn’t give him anything... but grief. I think I’ve demonstrated that I can handle the pressure without cracking.

  “And, since I’m laying it all out here for you, I’m so over all this drama. I would never, ever do anything to put myself back in your crosshairs. All I want is to get the hell out of here and rebuild my life. I’ll keep writing, maybe get a dog—you know, normal people stuff. The only drugs I want to hear about ever again are in Grateful Dead songs.”

  He cracks another smile. “You certainly are entertaining. I’ll give you that. You have an innocence that I don’t get to see very often.”

  “Nature of your business, I suppose. Not too many vestal virgins coming your way.”

  He tips his head back and laughs. “Oh, you’re no vestal virgin, Ms. Clark. I’ve seen the photos. Remember, we’ve been watching you very closely. I’m not sure I can ever go to Top of the Hub again without thinking of you fondly.”

  Well, if he doesn’t kill me now, I may just die of embarrassment. I feel myself turning beet red as I try to come up with a response and fail.

  There’s a twinkle in his eye, and I know he’s enjoying my humiliation. Once his laughter dies down, he sits there staring at the lake once more. I have no idea what I should say, or if, for once, I should just keep my mouth shut. He has a pensive look on his face, and I assume he’s weighing his options.

  He starts humming the Grateful Dead’s “Casey Jones,” and my mind races through the lyrics, trying to determine if this is a good sign or a bad one. Not so good, if I recall. Something about two trains about to collide and being better off dead. Hopefully, he just happens to like the song.

  “What will you tell the FBI?” he says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  I hold my hands up in defense. “I told you, I won’t say anything. I swear.”

  “If I grant your request and allow our relationship to dissolve amicably, what will you tell them? How did you escape? They have an investment in you at this point. They’ll need to hold someone accountable.”

  I know he’s right. This isn’t a movie where the picture fades to black after the lost girl comes home. Tons of money and man-hours have gone into this investigation. They’ll need something to show for it, or people will lose their jobs. People like Max, Sully, and Greene.

  “How comfortable are you with letting our dear friend Not Charlie take the blame? Perhaps Not Charlie was just an overeager suitor who couldn’t deal with rejection. I’m sure if they find his place
, they’ll find all of the photos of him stalking me. I wouldn’t even have to lie. I can’t imagine he would be dumb enough to have records that he was working for you.”

  He rubs his chin. “Continue.”

  The wind picks up and blows my hair around, forcing me to tuck it behind my ear. “I’ll say he snatched me from the hospital and smacked me around until I got away. I won’t bring Lorenzo into this either, so I’ll just pretend that I’ve been wandering through the battlefields in Manassas all this time.”

  “That’s a plausible story,” he agrees. “But I know they have aspirations of catching a bigger fish.”

  “Don’t we all? As it turns out, someone will realize they had an overactive imagination and made some grandiose connections that weren’t really there. It’ll turn out Charlie wasn’t hired to kill me at all. He just had an unhealthy crush. It may not be as sexy as taking down a cartel, but it will make one hell of a Lifetime movie.”

  He taps the bench with his fingers. The way he sets his jaw makes me think he’s mulling the story over, trying to pinpoint the flaws. “I would be burning a good employee. That isn’t good for morale.”

  Wanting to squash his doubts, my bravado kicks into gear. “He got his ass handed to him by a girl. You may want to reconsider his value. And really, isn’t this the risk you take when you go into this line of work?”

  “You’ll have to sell the story. To the FBI. To the press. You must never deviate. Do you really think you can keep it up for the rest of your life?”

  “That’s the easy part.”

  “What is the hard part?”

  I smile. “This conversation.”

  He snickers and then stares off into the lake again.

  “Fine, Ms. Clark. I will consider our business relationship terminated on good terms. You’ll be watched. If I catch wind that you are sharing any information about our encounter, the situation will be rectified. Permanently.”

  “Understood.”

  “You may not use any of this in your work.”

  “My work?” I ask.

  “Your writing. I don’t want to see this on your blog.”