He felt cheated. The stories in the movies and books all ended with everything being all right after the bad guys were gone. From their talk with Sandra, Jim realized that both Lori's and his problems had, in many ways, just started. The mechanical action of his legs pumping up and down somehow gave his frustration a temporarily outlet. Sweat dripped into his eyes. He tried to wipe the burning sweat away but only succeeded in smearing his glasses, disrupting his vision further.
Jim pulled his shirt and glasses off. He used the wad of material to mop the sweat from his body. He found the only dry corner of his shirt, spat on his glasses, and patted them half way clean on the cotton material. As he wrapped the shirt around his head to keep the sweat from flowing into his eyes, he saw the truck. He knew immediately it was that pushy woman reporter. He laughed. Finally, something to do. Something he could actually do. There was a small public wooded area just a short ways down the road. He started walking to it.
Every so often he would glance behind. The driver of the truck followed. They would turn down a side road or driveway until the truck was partially hidden by an obstruction. They would wait until he was nearly out of sight and then follow down the road to the next side road.
Like lemmings, they followed him into the mass of roads and trails of the wooded area. He led them to a hiking/ski trail that had been blocked by rocks to keep ATV's out. He watched from the bushes as Debbi tried to talk Carl into following him down the trail with the camera. She did get him to follow the trail for a few hundred feet. Jim used the time to let the air out of the truck's two back tires.
He left them with the mosquitoes. The gloom settled over him even thicker than the insects as he walked back into town. What was left for Lori and him? What about the money he still owed his father? What kind of work could he get and where?
Jim walked back to his car. He wanted to go and see Lori but his depression was still too deep. He went home instead. He called Lori. She laughed about the trick he played on the reporter. The joy her laughter gave disappeared after he hung up the phone. He drifted to sleep sometime after midnight with the thought, "Tomorrow is Saturday." Somehow things always seemed a little better when he visited his parents for the Saturday night sauna.
* * * *
*Click.* _The hands rest on the cards as if in prayer. The card is turned over.
An angel appears hovering between the clouds and the sun. His arms are outstretched in a blessing. Under his right arm is an apple tree with a snake. Standing before the tree is a naked woman looking up, her arms apart. Under his left arm is a tree with leaves of flame. A naked man stands in front, his arms apart. The angel with his flaming hair looks down upon the two.
_The hands rest on the cards before reaching for the light switch. A full minute of darkness passes before the steps leading to the door are heard.
CHAPTER 22: The Lovers
Jim sat at the table in his parent's kitchen nursing a cup of coffee. His father was talking about something that had happened at his church, but he didn't hear. He examined the swirls the creamer had made when he stirred it into his cup. He heard a knock at the door. His mother left the table to answer it.
When she came back, she had Lori with her. "Jim, why didn't you tell us you knew Lori?"
Before Jim could answer or even look up, she continued, "Now, you sit right there, dear. How long have you known Jim?"
To Jim's relief, his father interrupted. "Mother! The sauna is hot. Why don't we let these two talk?"
Jim's mother was startled. She looked at the two younger folk, then the stern expression on her husband's face. "Dears, why don't you two talk while we go into the sauna?"
Jim heard his mother giggle as from a great distance as they left the kitchen. He was trying to watch his coffee's steam swirl into the air instead of Lori's face. She reached across the table for his hand. "We need to talk," she whispered.
"Lori, we can't be together ... Have to stay apart. They fired you.
They claimed it was because of Jones' trying to kill you, but it was because you got involved in my court case against the school. And Jones went after you because he wanted to hurt me."
"You're wrong, Jim. Kawalski tried to blackmail me into bed by threatening my job. That's why I was in the case against the school. They fired me because I didn't quietly leave. I'm the one who went after them. And Billy Jones was crazy. We'll never know why he was trying to kill me."
"But I have nothing. Thomas told me that even if I win in court, I'll probably never teach again and probably never get any money. I'm nearly forty. The only thing I know how to do is teach and they will never let me do that again. I'm broke. I owe hundreds of dollars in child support. Every month I owe hundreds more. Soon the court will issue a warrant for my arrest. My ex-wife didn't believe me when I told her I have no money. My life is ruined. Everything I've touched in the last few years is gone. I'm just praying that I don't bankrupt my parents. They loaned me the money for my trailer."
Lori just held his hand. Jim refused to look at her, but from the corner of his eye he could see the curve of her face framed by her cascading hair. Jim heard the backdoor open. His coffee was cold. How could his parent's sauna be completed? It couldn't have already been an hour. Could it? He looked at Lori and lost all resolve. Behind her glasses, she scrunched her face and smiled.
"Jim, I threw in a couple of sticks of wood before we got dressed. The sauna should be just right," his father said, slapping Jim's back.
Barely able to talk, Jim cleared his throat, "Thanks Dad." Jim stumbled out the door. Lori followed. He wanted to stop her. He wanted to say something. He wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her. Instead, he just walked to the sauna.
Inside the dressing room, Jim finally spoke. He had wanted to say so much. He wanted to explain why she should leave. Instead he said, "Have you taken a sauna before?"
"Of course. I've lived up here my whole live."
Jim heard the sounds of her removing her clothes. In a panic, he stripped and stepped inside. Ignoring what was happening behind him, Jim wet the benches, cooling them so you could sit without burning your skin. He filled the dipper for throwing water on the rocks to make steam. He heard the opening of the door and padding of the bare feet as Lori entered. There was a faint gasp as the intense heat struck her bare skin.
Jim kept his back turned until he was sure she was seated. He tossed the water on the rocks. The needles of hot steam struck him as he wet two wash clothes and filled the dipper again. The steam blurred his vision as he turned to give Lori one of the cloths. Jim climbed to the top bench, draped the wet cloth over his face and let the heat penetrate his body. He kept his face covered with the cloth until he felt a cooling of the room. He used the wet cloth to grasp the hot handle of the dipper and threw some water onto the rocks. Again the needles of heat descended. Time slowed. Jim finally relaxed. He looked at Lori.
Something had happened. Most women that he had seen when they had gotten wet and sweaty, looked poorer. Lank hair draped in limp curls hugged the skull. Beads of sweat clung to the face highlighting any imperfection. Facial muscles loose from the heat sagging the curves of the face. Lori became beautiful. The delicate structure of her face stood out fully revealed with the mass of hair matted down with heat. The curve of her face was softened.
The eyes that had been hidden behind the glasses sparkled.
Jim's eyes spotted a drop of moisture forming on her forehead. He watched the trickle flow down her nose, drip to her chin, drift down her throat and past the soft curve before her ribs. Instead of flowing between her breasts, the drop chose her left breast. Silently it flowed to her nipple and stopped, a glistening spark of light on the soft red flesh. He looked up and saw her eyes smiling in a multitude of shades and hues. Jim finally knew that nothing else mattered to him but those smiling eyes.
* * * *
_The door opens. The figure turns on the light. The hands turn over the
card._
A young man
stands on a rise. He holds a staff before him. Six staffs are raised against him but there is confidence in his stance.
_An audible sigh escapes the figure. The light turns off._
CHAPTER 23:
The Seven of Wands Henry enjoyed seeing a pro work, even if he was more than a little scummy. Jacob McKinsie was a pro. Jacob had the reporters avidly hanging to his every word. Henry knew that by the time the reporters filed their stories, he, Vernon, Frank, Al and all the others would be relegated to the status of _also_ worked on the case. Henry was more than a little surprised when Jacob told the reporters that he was the one to shoot Jones.
Jacob stopped by the office two hours before the scheduled press conference and, for the first time, insisted on a complete briefing of all the information on Jones's case. Henry had an easy time briefing Jacob, because Vernon at the BCA had all the forensic reports faxed over night to the sheriff's office. Henry had driven in to work early. He had still not recovered enough from shooting Jones to sleep though the night and had decided to work a longer day in hopes of being tired enough for a full night's sleep.
Jacob had absorbed the information at the briefing, only needing a little extra help on the technical details of the autopsies. Jacob, being the consummate politician, then recited the details of the investigation in the first person to the reporters. Henry never understood why the public always thought that the local sheriff was the best cop in the county. Didn't they realize that they voted for the county sheriff? That made the sheriff a politician, just like the local mayor or state representative. Most sheriffs had at one time been real cops, but usually years ago. Henry watched the admiration on the faces of the reporters as Jacob claimed personal guidance of the investigation. The only discordant note was from the Action News reporter,
Debbi. She kept scratching her neck and arms. Henry wondered how they would run the final TV news story with the red welts around her face. It was way too warm a day for a turtleneck sweater and the welts were too large to be covered by make-up.
Oops! Jacob wanted him to come up to the podium. He probably figured that showing off a subordinate or two would help on his re-election. As Henry stood next to Jacob, he finally realized something was wrong with the situation. Jacob usually only came to the third button on Henry's shirt and here he stood at least two inches taller than him. Henry glanced behind the podium. There was a box of files under Jacob's feet. Henry unconsciously shook his head in amazement. That scene turned out to be the lead on the ten o'clock news on two of the local television stations. It came out as the grizzled police veteran bowing his head in admiration of his superior's leadership.
* * * *
Jack Andrews called the hurried meeting in order to try to protect himself and the school board. At the meeting was John Jenkins, the school board chairman, with full authority to sign off on any deal struck during the negotiations. On the other side of the table were Sandra Thomas, Mike Garrison, local teacher's union rep, Lori Waithe, and James Makinen.
"Sandra, we need to get this settled. We only have the next few months before school starts in the fall to hire a new superintendent and principal. These court cases you have filed will just delay the whole process. How can we hire anyone while the cases are pending? You don't want the kids to suffer while this drags out for months in court, do you? Here's what I propose we do. First, Mike here can be on the search committee for the new administration. James and Lori can get one year's severance pay. How does that sound?"
"Jack, you've got to be kidding! I talked to Wayne Johnson before I came in today. You paid off Shermon to the tune of seventy-five thousand dollars. This is the son of the serial killer who killed two of your own students. This is the man who hired the serial killer to work in your school to begin with. And this is the man who with your principal is being investigated by the State for blackmail and embezzlement. Just who the hell do you think you are?
"This is the second time you tried to sneak something past me. Now both you and the board are up to your pretty little necks in this mess, and it is all your own making. We either make sure this mess will never happen again and you treat my clients fairly, or we leave. Oh, Jack, you might be interested in this. With what I've found out so far, I'm inclined to add your name to the suit as a defendant and recommend to the Attorney General that you should be added to the criminal indictment with Shermon and the school board."
Jack sputtered. Why did he keep on underestimating that bitch? She was the union lawyer. Maybe if they got involved in the hiring of the new administration, he could skate something past on the criminal cases. It took three hours, but they worked out that the teachers would screen the applicants for the administration. They would also review the principal's and superintendent's job performance every two years. If the teachers rejected the performance of the new administration, the board would then not renew their contracts.
Lori and James had left the room early in the talks, and Jack had thought he had dodged the worst part of the criminal complaints until he had time to create a new plan. But then Sandra then spoke, "We'll just stop now for a minute so Lori and James can come back in." She got out her cell phone and called them.
Andrew furiously tried to plan an escape. He decided to try to settle with Lori first, since after all, she was not tenured and they would be legally within their rights to not renew her contract. After the two re-entered the room, Jack tried his opening gambit again.
"I think our offer of one year's salary is more than fair for Miss Waithe. After all, she has no tenure and we have no obligation to renew her contract."
Jack immediately braced himself for the verbal onslaught from Thomas.
To avoid her, he made the mistake of looking at Makinen. Jack had always considered Makinen a nerd, one of the boys you teased in gym class, one of the boys the jocks would push around to impress the girls they wanted. Jack had been a jock in school. He had always had his way with the nerds. Thomas confused him. He never understood tough women. Maybe he could get back in control by pushing the nerd around.
But something happened. As Jack snidely pointed out Lori's lack of tenure, Makinen's face changed. It was as if he had been walking in the woods and he rounded a bush and came face to face with a cougar. Jack suddenly remembered that this nerd had fought a half a dozen young punks with his bare hands. He had thrown Jones through a window, a serial killer who had murdered two armed policemen. In panic, Andrews gave up.
After they left the lawyer's office, James turned to Lori. "At least you have a job this fall if you want one."
Lori put her arm around his waist as they walked. "I don't know if I could stand working in that place. Do you think they will hold with their deal?"
Jim's voice was hard when he answered. "They will honor their deal with you. They will probably pay most of what they promised me..." His voice softened as he concentrated on the emotions he felt in the room. "I think they will renege on my retirement and health insurance. I also think they will only hold to their agreement with the union for a year or two. They don't want to give up their power."
He turned to look at her, wanting to change the mood. "I want you to meet my kids. Let's drive out to California." He watched her face as she nodded her head 'yes.' He couldn't understand how such a beautiful creature could want him. He hesitantly put his arm around her shoulders as they walked down the street to their car.
Jim dropped Lori at her father's. He drove down the road to Jack Andrews's home. It was a large two-story, brick-faced house on a small lake in an exclusive section of town. Every house on the lakeside of the street was owned by a banker, business owner or a lawyer, except one. That one house belonged to the ninety-year-old woman who had originally owned the land the homes were on. It had three rooms and a porch. The porch was collapsing with the weight of hundreds of potted houseplants the old lady grew. She was too old to mow her lawn so grass and weeds grew knee high between the visits from her nephew. Jim parked his car on the lawyer's side of the boundary betw
een the homes. He climbed up on his fender and leaned on back until he was lying on the windshield. He would wait to be noticed. He closed his eyes to nap.
Jim heard a car pull up. "Hi, Jim." Henry's voice said. "What are you
doing?"
Jim sat up. He motioned next to him on the fender. "Come on up, Henry."
Jim waited till Henry found a comfortable place to sit. "Jack Andrews and the school board made some promises today. I wanted him to know that I expected him to keep them. Did you know they were going to fire Lori? They implied that since Jones tried to kill her, there was something wrong with her."
Henry sat still, his anger building. He was back in front of Lori's apartment. Jones jumped through the window, landing on the lawn in front of him. He saw Jones cower in fear of what was behind him. Even when Jones saw the pistol in his hands, Henry knew he was more afraid of what was behind him. Henry never understood what had happened but he was satisfied. He had seen the pictures of Charlie Manson, Ted Bundy, and the others in jail. It had always bothered him that in all the cases he had seen about serial killers, they never experienced the terror they inflicted on their victims ... until Jones. Jones felt the terror before he died. Somehow James and Lori had brought retribution to Jones.
"Don't worry, Jim. I know what you and Lori did. Most of the boys who worked on the case know what you did too. They all liked Al and Frank. We'll
make sure Jack keeps his promises. You go home now. I'll talk to Jack."
After Jim drove away, Henry walked up to the door. Perversely, he knocked instead of using the doorbell. Mrs. Andrews answered the door.
"Is Jack home?"
"He's still at the office. Thank you for getting that man to leave.
Jack told me to call the police when I called him about it."
"Well, ma'am. You have nothing to worry about. That man was just waiting for your husband. He wanted to make sure he would honor the promises he made today. When your husband comes home you tell him everything was fine. My name is Deputy Sheriff Henry Hakanen. He can call me if he has any questions. I'm the one most people talk to if promises are not kept, so I will be checking up on things, making sure everyone lives up to their promises."
The Duce of Pentacles Page 15