Back home, Midnight greeted me, demanding to be picked up. I held him tight, caressing the soft black fur as I rummaged in the cabinet looking for the Goody’s Powder. The bitter taste signaled relief to my brain as I grabbed a Pepsi and took Midnight outside with me to watch the night sky. I’d never heard of the headache powder until I moved to the South, then when I found myself in Kansas, I couldn’t find it, until I was wandering around a tiny shop in Wichita and there it was. I bought every box they had.
The darkness rattled the door in my head, wanting back out. Now it’d tasted blood—I didn’t know if it had a gender, it simply was, and it wanted more. The adrenaline that’d been flowing through my body slowly wore off, and that hyperawareness receded.
The night was still, as if nature had been holding her breath, knowing I was back. And welcoming me into the night.
CHAPTER 24
AUGUSTUS WAS WRAPPING UP HIS meetings in China. Today he’d met with an official of the government and mentioned the new cheese flavor his company was developing. It led to an interesting discussion about American’s obsession with health, even as their waistlines increased year after year. Skim milk was on its way out, being replaced by whole milk and more disturbing, plant-based milks, which wouldn’t do at all.
The man was curious, as the Chinese weren’t big milk drinkers, so Augustus explained when consumers moved to skim milk out of a desire to be healthier, Congress stepped in to help. Through a scheme involving the dairy industry, all that unwanted surplus fat from milk was turned into pure gold. Cheese. And it was used in so many products and foods that thirty years later, the public was addicted. The average American consumed almost thirty-five pounds of cheese a year.
As the man accompanied Augustus to the private airstrip, they discussed sugar as well. Everyone knew how the brain lit up when exposed to the stuff—it was virtually indistinguishable from cocaine on brain scans—and the knowledge was put to good use in formulating foods. Ice cream manufacturers promoted the treat as “scientifically proven” to make consumers happy. A brilliant marketing campaign, if Augustus said so himself.
He’d said goodbye and settled into the jet when the call came in. It was a *333, a call he’d take no matter what was happening. Was Janet gone?
As the phone rang, Augustus held his breath. His assistant sounded strange when she answered.
“Lori, what’s happened?”
“I don’t know how to tell you. I’m so sorry…”
“Is my wife gone?”
The strangled sob was unlike his normally unflappable secretary. Janet had been ill a long time, so they were expecting her death soon, and it was a race against the clock for Augustus to find a cure. The glass of champagne tasted like vinegar. He saw black spots and couldn’t find the words.
“No, sir, Janet’s the same…she doesn’t know yet.” There was a pause on the phone, long enough that he thought the call had dropped when he heard Lori blow her nose, her voice garbled from the sobbing.
“It’s Kurt. He’s gone.”
The glass fell. He slid to the floor, on his knees, shaking. Thank God the attendant had pulled the privacy curtain.
“What happened?”
“He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The authorities believe it was a drug deal gone wrong.”
“Kurt doesn’t do drugs. He drinks but never drugs.”
“I know, he was a…good boy. I told the officers you would meet them upon your arrival.”
“Thank you for telling me. Don’t tell Janet. I’ll tell her after I meet with the authorities, assuming she’s having a good day. Otherwise we’ll wait. This could kill her. Reschedule my meetings for the next few days, I’ll need to…see to things.”
“Already done, sir. And I’ve sent the information I’ve pulled together for the funeral to your email. I didn’t think Mrs. Gier would be up to handling the details.”
“Thank you, Lori.”
Augustus hadn’t risen to the number two spot in the industry without trusting his instincts, and they were screaming that something was off. He’d have to talk to the police, but they wouldn’t be of any use. He wanted the job handled properly. Jail was not an option for the man who took his only son’s life. Only an eye for an eye would appease him.
There was one number on his phone with no name, his contact at the Organization. The man answered, and Augustus explained what he required.
“The usual place, this evening.”
The attendant had cleaned up the mess and brought him another glass of champagne. He raised it. And only then did he let himself weep for the loss of his only son.
The nondescript black sedan had picked him up from his house and driven to an industrial complex. When the door opened and the man climbed inside, the space around Augustus seemed to shrink, making him feel as if he were in a crowded elevator.
On the surface the man had the look of an all-American football star, but up close, his eyes were dead. There were no pleasantries. He turned the tablet around and Augustus entered the payment details. Money well spent.
“You will be informed when the asset has completed the job.”
“How will he find the killer when the police have no leads? No evidence left behind? Let me help. I will use every resource available to me, call in every political favor owed, to find the killer of my son.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. The Organization respects your company and appreciates the work you and others have sent to us over the years. We are connected at every level. The killer will be found, but the police will close the case as another drug deal gone wrong. Leave this to us.” The man reached for the handle.
“Wait. What about the other thing?”
“I must caution against it.”
Augustus shook his head. “No. I want a face-to-face with the asset.”
The man frowned. “Once again, I highly advise against a meeting. The procedure is simple. You call us, we assign the job, and once it’s completed, you receive proof of death.” The man saw something in Augustus’ face that made him sigh. “Let me do my job. You don’t want to meet the help. Employees of the Organization…are rather different than the rest of us.”
But Augustus would not be swayed. “I know it was some liberal vegan hippie, trying to make a statement.”
The man’s gaze was calculating. “You have video?”
“Of course. I’ve watched it over and over, but there’s nothing there. But the killer had to be there…given what happened.”
The man simply waited. It disgusted Augustus, but he knew he had to tell the man. Results were all that mattered.
“It seems the three men and my son were involved in an incident. There were two sick cows; they would have died eventually, but perhaps they might have handled it differently. Things got a bit rough. You know those activists, always sneaking around, trying to cause trouble. I know it was one of them, a friend to Mr. Licht, who you took care of. Not only do I want this man dead, but I want their entire organization crushed into dust.”
The man inclined his head and consulted his tablet. “Mr. Licht was working alone, but we will look into it. You will provide us with the video and we will take it from there. And if it is not an activist group?”
“I want the same result: the killer dies, an eye for an eye.”
“The employee will arrange the meet. He will keep me informed at all times.” He exited the car, turning at the last moment. “Be careful, Mr. Gier. Our employees are temperamental at times.”
The door shut and the sedan took Augustus home. On the way, he thought about his request. If his contact made him nervous, a person who was the face of the company, Augustus could only imagine what a hired assassin might be like. In the end, it didn’t matter. He would spend every penny of his vast fortune to bring his son’s killer to justice.
He planned to make a special request, that his son’s killer experienced unimaginable pain before the assassin ended him. Augustus wanted it to take a long time. No quick dea
th from a bullet—he wanted there to be gallons of blood.
Inside the house, Janet was on a chaise in the conservatory, reading. One of her rare good days. He didn’t have the heart to tell her, not yet. As her illness advanced, her good days were fewer and fewer, so he would wait, tell her when it was done. The nurse would administer a sedative and she could drift into a dreamless sleep. Too bad he couldn’t drift with her.
CHAPTER 25
THE DARKNESS APPEASED, I SLEPT late and then made mimosas and quiche for brunch. The wildflowers I’d picked looked pretty in the old blue Mason jar I found in the dirt as I sat outside, enjoying the heat and clear blue sky. A curious cow had come to see what I’d dug up, and I gave her a handful of wheatgrass from my windowsill. Sometimes they came up to the fence, watching me on the patio as I watched them. I’d grown to love the furry animals.
The shop was about an hour away in Wichita, and it carried the charms I adored. Bells jangled as I walked inside, the smell of new carpeting filled my nose.
The woman greeted me immediately. “Looking for anything special?”
I held up my arm. “I think it’s time for a new bracelet and a few charms.”
She smiled. “We just got some new charms in. Let me pull them together. Can I get you a sparkling water?”
“That’d be great.”
I ran my fingers along the smooth glass as I looked at the charms, half listening to the soft music playing in the background.
“I haven’t had the LaCroix with grapefruit before. It’s good.”
“One of my favorites, that and the orange.” She placed various bracelets on a black velvet mat. “How about a bangle?”
“No, I think the classic bracelet but with that new heart?” I pointed to the one I meant.
“Oh, the pave heart. It’s very popular.” She clasped it around my wrist. It looked perfect, like it belonged.
“What charm are you looking for?”
I pointed to a charm with a dangling pearl. “What’s that one called?”
She took it out of the case and slid it onto the new bracelet before clasping it around my wrist again. “It’s called Luminous Elegance.”
The grin spread across my face, and the darkness chuckled, remembering the man who’d called me a luminous pearl.
“It’s perfect, but one just looks lonely. Let’s see what else grabs me.” I took my time as she pulled out tray after tray of charms. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for until I saw them.
“Those are adorable.”
The woman placed the three charms on the mat. “May I?” She pointed to my wrist, and I held it out for her to undo the bracelet. She slid the charms on and I held up my arm.
The saleslady, recognizing multiple sales, smiled. “The rooster is called Rule the Roost. The pig doesn’t have an imaginative name—it’s called Piggy—and the cow is, you guessed it, Cow.” She touched my other bracelet. “Plenty of room on here. Not that I don’t want to make the sales, but you can fit them all on one bracelet.”
“No, I’ve been wanting a bracelet for each arm. It’s time to start a new one. You know, new beginnings.”
She let out a sigh. “Oh, honey. I understand all about new beginnings. Shall I wrap them up, or are you going to wear them out?”
“You know what, on second thought, I’ll take the teacup too. For love of tea, but you can leave that one off. I’ll save it for a special occasion.” I didn’t know why I bought the fifth charm, only that I was compelled to do so…and that told me I still had work to do.
As I stepped out into the sun, I admired the crystals on the heart, sparkling in the light. It was a good day. Or at least it was until I was almost home. I’d accidentally hit the button to change from satellite to FM radio and the news was on. The serious tone made me pause, my finger hovering above the button.
“Kurt William Gier, only son of Augustus and Janet Gier, was killed in a drug deal gone wrong. The CEO of Gier Foods wasn’t available for comment, but his company confirmed they are working with the authorities to bring the killer to justice. Police Chief Stone said a candle had tipped over, most likely during the altercation, and the trailer burned to the ground, spreading to engulf both vehicles. One man tried to escape, but was overcome and died outside the trailer. The other three never made it out. The Audi was identified as belonging to the son of the CEO of Gier Foods. At first they thought the fire was a terrible accident; however, drug paraphernalia was found behind the trailer and in a shed on the property, leading police to determine it was a drug deal gone wrong.”
Good. The fire would have destroyed any evidence I might have left behind. The woman continued.
“Kurt went by his middle name, Will, and used his mother’s maiden name instead of the last name Gier. He didn’t want any special treatment as he was learning the ropes working at the Blesser Meatpacking plant. Will was a smart young man on the rise to take over one of the biggest food conglomerates in the world.”
I snorted. Liar. He was a drunk who was cruel to animals and got what he deserved. No more getting off on account of having rich parents; let him face his maker and plead his case. I found an eighties channel, turned it up, put down all the windows, and sang along the rest of the way home.
CHAPTER 26
“HOPE, LOOK.” MADDY WAS CARRYING Midnight, half of his body sliding out of her grasp, and yet the cat looked content. I could hear him purring from where I sat on the patio, obsessively looking for a certain black Maserati and checking online to see how far the story about the murders had spread.
“Hey, Maddy. Take it easy. The doctor said another week before you could run and play.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead and tightened my ponytail.
The child had let Midnight go, and he was currently crouched in the grass, stalking a butterfly. “How did you get that scar?”
The long, faded gash on my arm stood out against my tan. Usually I told people I got it in a car crash when I was little, that my parents died and I was left with this reminder. But with Maddy, and the broken home she came from, I decided to tell her the truth.
“My dad had a problem. He drank too much. One night he took a knife from the kitchen and did this to me because I spilled my milk. To this day, I can’t drink milk.”
She looked up at me with those wise eyes set into such a young face. “I’m glad my dad’s dead. He used to make my mom cry. When I was bad he’d lock me in a closet, sometimes for days.”
It’s good her father was dead because if he wasn’t I would have killed him. Midnight jumped a foot in the air as a grasshopper startled the cat, and we both laughed, the ugliness banished back to the shadows.
The kid shifted from foot to foot, looking around, getting her nerve up. “Could you come to my school?”
“For what?”
I’d seen her coming home on Fridays with a bright pink backpack. The principal, true to her word, had gotten Max’s Buddies up and running. With the groceries I dropped off every week, she didn’t look like a strong wind would blow her over anymore. She was still skinny as a stick, but I hoped with time, if I was still here, she’d fill out.
“My mom…you know she’s sick a lot. We have to bring someone to talk about their career or hobby. Could you talk about painting? Show the paintings of Midnight and the cows? They’re really good.”
I knew how much courage it must’ve taken her to ask. It was the only reason I agreed. “All right, I’ll come.”
She hugged me and skipped off. “See you Thursday. You have to be there at ten.”
On Thursday I pulled into the parking lot twenty minutes early. I was unloading the paintings when I heard raised voices, and the tone made me turn. A man loomed over a little boy, yelling at him, inches from the kid’s face.
“You better man up. Football’s tough. If you don’t learn how to take a hit you’ll be a little sissy girl for the rest your life. Is that what you want?”
I was surprised the little boy played football. He was even skinnier than Maddy.
“It hurts when I get hit. I told you and Mom, I don’t want to play football. I want to draw.”
The man took the kid by his arms and shook him so hard that the boy’s head slammed into the brick wall of the school.
“No son of mine is going to draw pictures like some little wimp. What’s next, you want to dress like a girl and wear makeup too?” He shook the kid again. “You’re going to play football and like it, you hear me?”
“Take. Your. Hands. Off him. Now.” I couldn’t help it. I had to do something. I’d seen that look on a grown-up’s face before, been on the receiving end of it.
I was an odd child, one who’d rather read or play by herself than get involved with group sports. Who knew why? Maybe when I was formed, my cells came together differently. Who knew why each of us was different? But the world didn’t know what to do with different. It beat down the odd children, the quiet adults, anything to make us all fit into a box the world could label. Fuck the world and its perfect boxes.
The man looked at me and sneered. “Mind your own business, bitch.”
I took two steps forward. “Let him go.”
The man pushed the kid away, got right up in my face, so close I could smell coffee and garlic on his breath. So I threw open the door inside me and let it out.
“I’ll be watching you. If I see one more bruise on that child, I will hunt you down and shoot you in your bed while you sleep, do you understand me?” I spoke softly, yet the man recoiled as if I screamed in his ear. He knew the look of an apex predator, knew he was no longer at the top of the food chain.
He stammered and shuffled away. “I have to get to work.” As I watched, he got into a white Volvo and drove off. The kid hadn’t moved, eyes cast down as he rubbed the toes of his sneakers together.
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