Twisted Dreams

by F J messina

  He stopped talking, but his eyes never released Sonia. Sonia stood silent, frozen, hoping to look strong.

  Jet squeezed quickly past Brad and into the apartment. She conspicuously placed herself between him and Sonia. “Everything okay here? Are we having a problem?”

  Brad didn’t answer. Sonia did. “No. There’s nothing wrong. Brad would never hurt me.”

  At the words, “hurt me,” Jet spun around, appearing ready to attack.

  Sonia grabbed her by the arm. “No. No. We’re okay. It’s all okay.”

  Brad still hadn’t said a word, but his eyes finally released Sonia. He looked at Jet, then back to Sonia. “I was just leaving.” The look in his eyes made it clear that he had something more to say, but he never got to it. He turned and stepped out the door. In moments, he was down the steps and gone in his Corvette, its deep-throated engine roaring into the night.

  Jet opened her arms and Sonia walked slowly into them. “You’re alright. You’re going to be alright.”

  Sonia spoke softly, almost whispering. There were tears on her face. “He’s so angry. I’ve never seen him so angry.”

  Jet released her hug. She pushed a wisp of hair out of Sonia’s face. “I know. I could see it.”

  They moved to Sonia’s couch and sat side by side in silence, Sonia’s mind racing. She had come to think of herself in new ways─strong, smart, courageous when she needed to be, a professional. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still a woman. And when a woman had given her heart to a man and then found out that he had been lying to her, deceiving her, none of those qualities stood in the way of the pain she would feel, especially if she had been seriously deceived once before.

  Sonia felt Jet take a deep breath and inch back just a bit on the couch. It was clear to her that Jet was about to say something difficult. She looked up at Jet’s blue eyes─blue but much softer than Brad’s.

  Jet started. “Honey, why do think he’s so mad?”

  Sonia was taken aback. “Why’s he so mad? Because.”

  “Because why?” The look on Jet’s face was one of complete focus.

  Conversely, Sonia’s face reflected total surprise, almost disbelief. “Because of everything that’s happened, what he’s done.”

  Jet reached up and gently pushed that wisp of hair out of Sonia’s face again. “Do you really think that’s why he’s mad? Is he mad because of what he’s done?”

  Sonia shot out her answer, her anger flaring. “No, because he got caught. He’s mad because he got caught.”

  Jet sat silently for a moment, her eyes turning downward toward her own hands. “And did you tell him he got caught?” She looked up. “Does he realize you know he’s married?”

  Sonia’s eyes moved quickly back and forth as she ran things through her mind. “I guess, well, I guess not.” She thought another moment. “No, I guess I just told him I didn’t want to see him anymore.”

  “So, you’ve never told him that you heard that he was married? You’ve never actually confronted him with that?”

  Sonia thought about it, her eyes roaming around the room. She looked directly at Jet. “No. I guess I haven’t.” There was little emotion in her voice.

  “And you’re absolutely sure that he is?”

  Sonia was quick to answer, reflexive. “The guy said he was. He said he was trying to wrap something up with his wife before he came back to Kentucky.”

  Jet took a deep breath. “And you really don’t know why Brad is angry?”

  Sonia shrugged. “I guess it’s because he doesn’t know what I found out. He doesn’t know why I won’t see him anymore.”

  Sonia waited for Jet’s response. It was a moment in coming. “Well then, maybe you owe him that much.”

  “Do you think so?” Sonia screwed up her face. “Do you really think so?”

  “Listen. When you told me he was married I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to cut his balls off.” Jet’s hands reached out to cover Sonia’s. “But this, watching you in pain.” She shook her head. “This can’t go on forever.”

  Sonia wiped her nose with the back of her hand as she listened.

  Jet’s voice became more matter-of-fact, more pragmatic. “Honey, you’ve got to tell him you know. You’ve got to talk to him about it, put it to bed. You need to be able to move on.”

  Sonia stood up slowly and walked toward her kitchen area. “I know. I know. But . . . it just doesn’t seem right that I have to take responsibility. I didn’t make this mess.”

  Jet watched as Sonia put on some tea water. She stood and followed Sonia into the tiny kitchen area, standing behind her. “I’m sorry, honey. But I think that what you can’t face is the fact that he’s married.” She reached out and put her hands on Sonia’s shoulders. “You’ve been angry, but you’re also in some sort of denial. It’s like if you don’t talk to him about it, then maybe it isn’t really true.” Jet gently turned Sonia around to face her. “Sweetheart, you’ve got to do this. You’ve got to tell him you know. You’ve got to see what he says. And then, assuming it is true, you’ve got to tell him it’s over and that you never want to see him again. You’ve got to get some closure about this, and part of that is accepting the fact that Brad is married.”

  Jet gently pushed Sonia out of the way. “Now, I’m going to make you some tea. And maybe with just a little splash of Jim Beam to make it go down better.”

  Sonia stepped back and let Jet put teabags in the green and red ceramic cups she had bought Sonia last Christmas and which should have been stored away until this year’s holiday. She knew Jet was right. She would have to face Brad and get this all out in the open once and for all. And she would have to do it soon because she just couldn’t live like this any longer. Still, for now, she just wanted to sit and drink tea and feel the comfort of her very best friend in the world sitting next to her in silence.

  41

  Jet had decided to spend the night at Sonia’s place. After calling a friend to take care of her dog, Diogi, she curled up on the sofa, knowing that her mere presence in the tiny apartment was a comfort to Sonia. When Sonia woke up on Saturday morning, she could smell freshly brewed coffee. Slipping out of bed, she dragged herself to the kitchen table.

  The person she found there had clearly grown up on a plantation in the deep south. “Well, butter my grits, look who the cat has done dragged in for breakfast. And look what I’ve cooked up for your most important meal of the day, little Sunshine. We’ve got eggs and bacon, sausage patties, grits and a whole stack of my famous buttermilk pancakes.”

  Sonia looked at the cherry pop-tart laying on her plate. “Is that what this is?”

  Suddenly the accent was gone. “It’s not my fault you don’t have one single decent thing to cook for breakfast in this apartment.”

  Sonia’s voice was soft. “Sorry.”

  Jet stood and walked to the coffee maker. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I hear pop-tarts covered in butter have miraculous medicinal effects. Anyway, there’s plenty of coffee.” She poured the rich, brown liquid into the same cups they’d used the night before. “And if you can manage to get yourself dressed, I understand there’s a bakery known for its almond croissants pretty much right around the corner.”

  Sonia raised her hand to her lips. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Not today.” She huffed. “I’m not sure I want to eat anything.”

  Jet stepped over to the table and handed Sonia a cup of coffee. “Watch it, it’s hot.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jet took a seat at the table. “So, before all the ruckus with Mr. Hotstuff last night, you’d called me about something that was going down. Do you even remember what it was?”

  It amazed Sonia that through all that had happened with Brad the night before, and then the conversation she’d had with Jet, she’d never told Jet about the phone call from Gabriela. She sat in the chair opposite Jet and spent the next few moments telling her that Gabriela had found out where Santiago had gone and was, at that very moment, in Florida, try
ing to track him down. She didn’t fail to mention that she was worried Gabriela might hurt the boy.

  Jet put her cup down. “It’s interesting that you say that. I was going to tell you that I’d gotten a phone call from my friend at the Lexington Police Department. It seems that LPD has finally gotten some information back from the police in Bennington and Saratoga Springs. Using the surveillance video from the bus stations, they were able to establish that the morning after Penny Rae disappeared, only four passengers got on the bus in Bennington and off in Saratoga Springs. Two of them were older women, and one was a teenaged boy. The other one was a tall guy, middle-aged or so.”

  Sonia’s eyes widened. “Were they able to identify him?”

  “No. But they were able to track him because he was wearing one of those floppy fisherman’s hats. Unfortunately, he kept it down low the whole time. It’s clear it’s the same guy getting on and off the bus, but we don’t get a facial image and there’s no particular reason to believe he was involved in Penny’s murder.”

  Sonia leaned forward. “What about his name. Can’t they get his name from the manifest or something?”

  “Honey,” Jet’s voice was motherly, “apparently, you haven’t traveled by bus lately. Listen, you can go online and buy a ticket and that ticket would have your name on it. But you can also just wait ‘til the bus pulls into its stop and get on board. The driver comes around and collects the right amount of money for your trip. No name. No ID. Apparently, that’s exactly what this guy did.”

  Sonia slumped back in her chair. “Alright . . . . So, what do we know right now?”

  Jet’s response was a blank look, so Sonia continued. “First, we know that the three girls all went to the same school, and all worked on the same research with Professor Andersen.”

  Jet jumped in, but not enthusiastically. “Yeah. I spoke to him again yesterday, as well. He said he was sorry if he missed giving us Penny’s name, and LaKeisha’s too. Still, he hadn’t heard from them since they’d graduated and he had no reason to believe they’d been in touch with each other; although that was something he wouldn’t know about one way or the other, is it?”

  Sonia gave Jet a crooked look. “What’d you think about all that?”

  “Honestly, I couldn’t help but wonder if the professor was dodging us.” Jet held her coffee cup in both hands, close to her lips, speaking through the steam that rose from the cup. “I wondered, maybe, if he’d been a little too close to one or more of the girls, you know?”

  “And?”

  “And, I made a few follow-up phone calls to some of the girls I’d spoken to before. But none of them had ever heard any rumors of him messing around with his students that way. In fact, some of them kind of thought of him as a gelding, if you know what I mean.”

  Sonia gave Jet an inquisitive look.

  Jet responded by making a scissors-type motion with her fingers, indicating the loss of a certain body part. “Kind of seemed like a dead end, you know?”

  Sonia blew on her hot cup of coffee. “Okay. Nonetheless,” she spoke evenly, slowly gaining a little momentum, “they went to the same school. They all did research on the virus that was making the mares spontaneously abort, whatever the hell its name was. We also know that Penny’s body was buried in the national forest near Bennington, and there’s a chance that the guy who brought her there rode a bus back from Bennington to where he abducted her, probably Saratoga Springs.”

  Jet took over, matching Sonia’s steady pace. “And we know that Santiago, the boy who Mariana was dating disappeared at exactly the same time she did. So, what’s the connection? Did Mariana tell Santiago something about the other girls? Did he run down LaKeisha? How is he related to the guy who we think took Penny Rae?”

  “Come to think of it, what about Limey?” Sonia added. She was sitting taller. “We know his relationship with Mariana might be more involved than they were letting on.”

  Jet screwed up her face. “Yeah, but how could he have been involved in LaKeisha’s death down in Florida and then Penny Rae’s in New York?” She cocked her head. “Unless . . . ?”

  Sonia’s eyebrows rose. “Unless what?”

  “Unless,” Jet’s eyes squinted, “someone sent him to do those things. He certainly knows his way around the world of horse farms, doesn’t he?”

  “I guess.” Sonia relaxed back into her chair. “Still, we know all these things and yet, it seems like we really don’t know anything. Most importantly, where the hell Mariana is . . . and,” her voice trailed off, “if she’s even alive.”

  Sonia and Jet sat in silence. Finally, Sonia put her cup down on the table with just the tiniest thud. She was in her pajamas, her hair a mess and she was wearing not a stitch of makeup, except what was still on from the day before and smudged. Eventually, a new light came into her eyes. “I’ve got it.” She nodded. “I know what we’re doing wrong.”

  Jet put her cup down, mimicking Sonia’s action. “Well lay it on me, lady. I’m ready for something to change.”

  Sonia sat up taller. “We’ve been going at this sideways.”

  Jet moved to match Sonia’s posture. “What do you mean?”

  “Look.” Sonia’s index finger tapped the table as if there were some list of facts imprinted on it. You’ve done a great job tracking down every person we could find who knew the girls while they were in school. Right?”

  “Right.”

  She tapped again. “And all three girls wound up working in their field, working with horses, right?”

  “Right again.”

  She tapped a third time. “And you’ve called every one of the friends, some more than once, and yet no one seemed to have any idea what was going on in their lives. Correct?”

  “Correct.”

  Sonia leaned back just a little, running her fingers through her hair. “How does that make sense? Absolutely no communication between these girls and any of their former colleagues at school? These were successful students, not pariahs. They couldn’t just lose contact with every person they ever knew at school. Not one hundred percent.”

  Jet’s face matched her word. “So?”

  “So,” Sonia rolled her lip between her teeth. “I think someone is lying to us. Maybe more than one person.” She banged her hand on the table with just a little emphasis then pointed right at Jet. “Damn it, somebody knows something. They’ve got to.”

  Jet paused before she spoke, quietly. “So, what do we do? We’ve already spoken to everyone we can think of.”

  Sonia stood up and started pacing around the tiny apartment. “No. We’ve had conversations with them. We’ve communicated with them over the internet and by phone, but we haven’t really spoken with most of them, have we?” She turned and looked right at Jet. “I mean, face to face. Looking them in the eye.”

  Jet sat still, but her eyes remained locked on Sonia’s. “You know, you’re right. There’s only been a handful that I’ve met with personally.”

  Sonia stopped and turned directly to Jet. “And that’s where we’ve been going wrong. We need to get out there and talk to these folks face to face, eye to eye. We need to watch their reactions when we ask about the girl’s relationships, their work, their boyfriends, whatever.”

  Jet slumped back in her chair. “You realize, of course, that most of those friends from Mayweather have graduated and taken jobs all over the country. It’s a special program and its graduates are highly sought after. We’d have to do a ton of traveling in order to speak to all of them personally.”

  Sonia was unfazed, her energy at its highest level in days. “Then we start local and move out from there. First, we talk to the folks who are right here in Lexington. Then we go to the towns in the surrounding area. We just keep going farther and farther until we find something.”

  Jet let out a long sigh. “Or until something else turns up and we realize we’re too late.”

  Jet’s words stopped Sonia in her tracks. She moved back to her seat at the table, speaking s
oftly. “I know. But until then, that’s our plan. We start first thing Monday morning.”

  42

  At ten o’clock on Saturday evening, Gabriela walked down a commercial street in the Allapattah section of Miami, a predominantly Hispanic area of town. She was looking for the type of nightclub that might attract her prey. She found exactly what she was looking for.

  Gabriela walked into the club and past one of the huge air conditioning vents. The AC was turned on full blast, but it was no match for the heat and humidity of the subtropical night. The room’s oppressiveness was dramatically increased by the sheer amount of humanity it held. Young men and women seemed squeezed together by the flamingo-colored walls and the low, black ceiling tiles. Any space left between those bodies was filled with music and smoke, some of which had an aroma that might well be described as sickeningly sweet.

  Gabriela maneuvered her way across the crowded floor. It seemed to her the denizens of the dark netherworld-like venue had decided the only defense against the weight of the warm, wet air was nakedness. Everywhere she looked, skin of varying shades of darkness, some natural, some just tanned, glistened with sweat. Only the most private parts of the young bodies were covered. Even those were generally on display through skimpy pieces of cloth, some all but transparent, others wet and clinging. Either way, they highlighted, rather than disguised, the natural attributes of the bodies they were supposed to hide.

  Pushing her way up one flight of steps, to a small balcony within the room, Gabriela was fully aware of the stares of almost every man in the club. Even those who were dancing with other women couldn’t resist the impulse to follow her with curious eyes. Her thin, statuesque body and long dark hair, adorned with clothing and jewelry designed to draw attention, had given Gabriela lots of practice with just such an experience. Somehow, she knew exactly how to take in every look, every comment passed from male to male, without ever appearing to notice. Had she been on the prowl for any kind of carnal pleasure, her gratification would have been assured.