Soon

by Jerry B. Jenkins

  How ironic that, after a mere peck on the cheek, he was consumed with remorse for betraying Jae, as well as for misleading Angela. He had played out a lie, loving Angela with his eyes and his body language, even his tone. She was a widow with young kids, and she had every reason to believe he was available. She acted as if he were exactly what she had been looking for. He would have to set things right.

  If nothing else proved God was working in his life, that did.

  Mortimer Eugene Bagdona, no surprise, turned out to have a record of racketeering throughout California before coming to Las Vegas several years before. His mug shots were more than six years old, but they gave Paul something to go on.

  Bagdona called himself an import/export jeweler, but apparently he had never actually plied the trade. His last known residence before settling in Vegas was Chula Vista, California. Paul wondered if local law enforcement would put together the proximity of that city to San Diego and at least suspect a link between him and Jonah. Not likely. Somehow, Morty Bagadonuts had never been busted for drug-related activity.

  The next day, through Angela, Paul found two of the girls from Thyatira’s who had worked part-time for Jonah. Both had been scared off from the extra work by what had happened the week before. They knew two of the women who had died.

  “At first it seemed like normal work,” one said. “We danced in these rituals with very specific instructions from Jonah, we turned tricks, and we passed out dope. We were allowed to do a little ourselves if we wanted, but it was just to encourage the congregation—that’s what he called the guys (they were all men)—to buy more and more. He really pressured us to come with him full-time, but who would now?”

  Late that afternoon, Angela was to try to get next to Lucy. Paul had advised her to play it by ear to decide how much to reveal to the woman. Angela was simply to indicate to Lucy that she had a good chance of getting her away from Mort.

  Paul met Angela just after noon at a small restaurant off the Strip to set the plan in motion. She seemed excited.

  “This may sound like fun,” he said, “but it’s dangerous.”

  “I know, but everything I’ve been doing in Vegas is life-and-death, Paul. And you won’t let anything happen to me, will you?”

  “That’s the last thing I want, Angela. I wish I could guarantee it.”

  She took his hands again, and his blood started pumping. We’d better talk—soon.

  Paul handed Angela a set of button covers to slip over the ones on her blouse. “Make sure this one goes over the second-to-top one,” he said. “It looks like all the others—”

  “Pretty.”

  “Yeah, but can you imagine? A set like this costs a fortune. That one is a transmitter connected to the frequency of the receivers in my molars. As long as I’m within ten miles of you, I can hear what’s going on.”

  “That makes me feel secure.”

  “It should help, but, Angela, really, you need to decide if you want to go through with this.”

  “Me?” she said. “Are you kidding? The chance to catch a guy like this? You couldn’t talk me out of it.”

  “The first thing we want to know is whether Mort is still in town. There’s no sign of him at the Babylon, but if he’s skipped, why is Lucy so scared? Get her to tell you the last time she talked to him, and better yet, the last time she actually saw him.”

  “Will do.”

  “Don’t say a word about my knowing who he really is. Lucy has to know he’s Jonah. He’s likely used her in the rituals. Just say I’m a friend of yours who’s going to keep him occupied long enough so she can break away.”

  “She hasn’t seemed willing to do that yet, Paul.”

  “Only because she’s scared to death of him. Why did she keep your card and the white stone? Even that had to be risky. Wouldn’t she have just tossed them if she didn’t have in the back of her head that her opportunity might come?”

  “See? You are brilliant.”

  Paul wanted to tell her she was too and that she was beautiful. He just couldn’t.

  Paul parked about three blocks from where Angela expected to find Lucy. The fidelity of the equipment was so good he could hear Angela’s breathing. “I’m not seeing her,” she was sing-songing under her breath. “I’ll just keep looking. I hope you can hear me.”

  A few minutes later Paul heard a male voice. “Well, hello, little cutie.”

  Someone talking to Lucy? Paul was tempted to maneuver into position to see.

  “I said hello, little stuck-up.”

  “Yeah, hi,” Angela said.

  “What’re you, too good for me?” the man said, and others close by laughed. Paul had a sinking feeling. Was he going to have to rescue Angela even before she found Lucy?

  “What’s your problem, friend?” Angela said, with a bravado that impressed Paul.

  “Just looking for a little action, that’s all.”

  “Do I look like a hooker to you?”

  “Well, no, I—”

  “Then leave me alone.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.” More laughter.

  “Hear that, Paul?” she said a moment later. “I guess hooker is in the eye of the beholder.”

  Paul wished she had ignored the creep. If he felt humiliated in front of his friends, there was no telling what he might do.

  Paul was growing anxious. Come on, come on!

  Finally he heard, “I see her. About a block and a half ahead of me. I’ll keep you posted.”

  A few minutes later Angela whispered, “I’m just walking right past her. She might have a customer. Yep, they’re negotiating. I’m past her now, but, Paul, she noticed me. I saw her eyes widen. She looked like she wanted to talk. Maybe she’ll run the guy off.”

  The silence was a little too long for Paul’s nerves, but Angela soon came back on. “He’s gone. I’m heading back. Hang on.”

  Paul had been on a lot of stakeouts, but none had ever made him this jumpy. He knew if he tried getting approval to enlist a civilian in an operation like this, he’d be denied and reprimanded. But he told himself Angela wasn’t working for the NPO. She was working for him. Yet somehow that didn’t make him feel any better. Either way, he’d put her in danger.

  “Hey, girl, how you doing?” Angela said.

  “Hi,” Lucy said. “Things are slow. The way I like them. I’m so sick of this.”

  “You run that guy off?”

  “Quoted him double when I saw you. I hoped you’d come back.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Your friend find you?”

  “Friend?”

  “A guy told me yesterday he was a friend of yours, looking for you. I hope I didn’t do something wrong. I gave him that rock and the address.”

  “Yes, he found me.”

  “Whew! I hoped I wasn’t getting you in trouble.”

  “You’re not so skittish today.”

  “We’re out of his view.”

  “Whose?”

  “Morty’s. Lots of times he can see me from his penthouse, but we’re around the corner now. If I don’t get back in sight in a while, he’ll come looking for me. You’d think I was his only girl.”

  “He’s got lots, doesn’t he?”

  “Lots.”

  “You think he’s watching you now?”

  “When I’m within view, yeah.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “He’s back at the Babylon. He was gone a few days.”

  “You ready to bail on him yet?”

  Lucy paused. “I’d be risking my life.”

  “You’re risking your life out here, Lucy. C’mon. What if I told you I could make this work and he’d never find you?”

  Paul listened closely, but Lucy wasn’t answering. It sounded as if they were moving.

  “Where you going?” Angela said.

  “I just don’t know.”

  “You hate this life. It’s time for something new. What are you afraid of?”

  “Him, of cour
se.”

  “Lucy, listen to me.”

  “I don’t know. Can I get back to you?”

  “Lucy, I’m not going to push you into something you don’t want to do. This is all up to you. It’s your freedom we’re talking about.”

  25

  PAUL AND ANGELA RENDEZVOUSED in his car and discussed how she and Lucy had left it, that Angela would find her again the next day at the same spot—out of Mort’s view. Paul was glad Lucy had volunteered that Mort was back at the Babylon, but she seemed less certain she would leave him.

  “Experience tells me she’s going to pass,” Paul said.

  “Oh, I think she’s ready, Paul. It’s a major, major deal for these girls to make a decision like this. She’s right on the edge. It won’t take much to push her over.”

  Before Paul dropped Angela off, he had a nagging feeling they were being watched. He had noticed nothing in the mirrors. Could it have been someone on foot, something in the corner of his eye? He had learned not to worry until he was sure, but he had to wonder about Lucy and how stable a contact she was.

  Angela was right about Lucy’s readiness. As Paul sat listening to their conversation the next day, it quickly became evident what was wrong.

  “Why the shades, Lucy?”

  “Sunny day.”

  “Yeah, that’s unusual here, isn’t it? It was the same yesterday and your sad, beautiful eyes were on display. Let me see.”

  “No.”

  “Come on . . . oh! Lucy! What did he do?”

  Lucy’s voice was quavery. “It was just one shot, a backhand. His ring caught the bone.”

  “What was that about?”

  “I was out of sight too long yesterday.”

  “And you’re still not ready to leave? Lucy, you have to get away from him. We can get you to a shelter right now.”

  “I can’t go . . .”

  Paul sat shaking his head, assuming Angela was shaking hers too.

  “You think I’m stupid.”

  “No, I don’t, Lucy. I’m sorry. But I can’t let you go back to him. You need to let me get you off the street now. Just say the word, and you’re out of here.”

  Lucy hesitated. Then, “I’m not ready, ma’am. Maybe soon, but leaving Morty is one thing. Not knowing where my drugs are coming from . . .”

  “You know you’ve got to get off that stuff.”

  Pause. “Yeah, but . . .”

  “There’s no easing off it, hon. You have to make a clean break, start over.”

  “Spoken like somebody who’s never been a junkie.”

  “I know. But we can help. Lots of girls at our place have been where you are. They’ll become your family. They’ll walk you through this.”

  “I’m not saying I’m not tempted. But this is the only life I’ve known for more than five years.”

  “Five years? You were a teenager when you started?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Fainter, Paul heard a car and a male voice. “Say, ladies?”

  Lucy sounded dead. “Oh no. Oh no. It’s—”

  “Wonder if you’d be kind enough to give me some directions?”

  Paul put the car in gear.

  “I’m new here,” Angela began, “but my friend might be able to help—”

  Lucy, whispering, “Don’t! It’s Morty.”

  Paul backed up and pulled into traffic, wondering if he would do better to leap from the car and run three blocks, gun drawn.

  Why didn’t I just stake out the Babylon last night and bust him as soon as I saw him?

  Traffic was gridlocked. Should have called Chicago, played it by the book, got some help.

  “Can you see me clearly?” the man said pleasantly.

  “Yes, sir.” Angela’s voice had gone from helpful to resigned dread.

  “Then you had better do what I say or I will use this.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Get in the car as if you know me and nothing’s wrong.”

  “Where are we going?”

  The voice was angry now. “Stall and I’ll drop you where you stand. Lucy, stay put.”

  Paul heard Angela slide in and shut the door. He honked and edged up onto the sidewalk, drawing shouts and gestures. As he sat within view of Lucy he caught sight of a late-model black sedan pulling away. No way he could pick through the traffic, and even if he could, there was little he could do if Mort had a gun on Angela.

  “Where’s your boyfriend?” Morty’s voice caught Paul’s attention again.

  “Don’t have one. I have a family.” Angela sounded as if she was trying to cover her terror.

  “You don’t say. Well, you’ve been playing a dangerous game for a woman with a family, talking to my girls. But I need women like you. . . .”

  “Why?”

  “I need to connect people with God.”

  “And how would I do that?”

  “I’d teach you. Hey, you’re gorgeous. Ever think about making some real money? Lucy makes more than you ever dreamed of.”

  “I thought you were talking about bringing people to God. Oh, the Babylon. You staying here?”

  Good, Angela. You’d have been a great agent.

  Paul heard the car stop, doors opening and closing. “We’re going to walk to the elevators, and you’re going to come up to my place. One hint you’re not thrilled, you’ll regret it. Follow?”

  “I can tell you right now I’m not interested in what you’re offering.”

  “You might want to change your mind about that. I know who you are.”

  Paul called Koontz. “I’m going to bust this guy, hopefully within the hour. Get local NPO to the Babylon, but tell them not to move till I say. Mort Bagdona is Jonah. He has a hostage. It’s all going down pretty fast.”

  Paul checked the side arm strapped to his leg, then called the number on the card Angela had originally given Lucy. Willie answered.

  “Paul Stepola. You still standing by to rescue Lucy?”

  “Tomorrow, sure.”

  “I need you to do it right now.”

  “But we have a meeting tonight, and—”

  “Lucy’s available for pickup right now. I’ll get Angela back to you later. Got it?”

  “I guess, but—”

  “Willie, trust me. I’ll explain later. Do this now.”

  “You’ve been a bad girl,” Morty was saying, “infringing on my territory.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Sure you do. You’re trying to pull people away from me. You’ve got your own idea of what God wants.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Well, not Lucy, if that’s what you’re wondering. But she should have. That was a serious breach of loyalty. That’s why she’s going to get what’s coming to her too.”

  “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

  “Not unless you make me. Keep quiet on the elevator.”

  Paul pulled up to the Babylon and left his car at the curb. He rode the elevator to the exclusive floors and found hotel security. He motioned the man close with a nod and showed his credentials. “I’m on a stakeout and I have backup coming. I need to borrow your handcuffs, and I need a key that gets me into the suites on the penthouse level. Come on, I know you have one. . . . Thanks. Local bureau NPO will be downstairs soon. I’ll call when I need them.”

  The man looked as if he had been deputized by Wyatt Earp.

  “You’re in 2200? Bet it’s a big place.”

  Angela, you’re a pro. Keep talking.

  “Wait till you see it.” The door opened.

  “Two floors! Do you play the piano?”

  “Comes with the place. Make yourself comfortable.”

  “That’s a lot to ask. How comfortable can I be?”

  Paul positioned himself at the end of the hall where he had a view of the entrance to the suite and could also see anyone getting off the elevator.

  “I told you I’m not going to hurt you unless you make me.”

  “I won’
t make you.”

  “Then you’ll join me?”

  “In what way?”

  “You see yourself as a woman of God. I’m a man of God. I want you on my team.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Recruiting. People need God, ma’am. They really do. And He has told me the true pathways to Himself. I teach you those paths; you teach the seekers.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, I do think so. God told me to seek you out, to sign you up. He said He would prepare you. If you refuse, He will be angered, and He will tell me what to do with you.”

  26

  PAUL KEPT RUNNING SCENARIOS through his mind. If Jezebel was right, Morty Bagadonuts really believed he had a pipeline to God, so there was no telling what he might pull. In-stinct told Paul he had the man right where he wanted him, in a confined, finite area. The last thing Paul wanted was a high-speed chase.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to tie you to a chair,” Mort said. He actually sounded cordial. No surprise that he could persuade people—he had their best interests at heart.

  “That’s not necessary. I’ll cooperate.”

  “How I wish that were true,” Mort said. “But we’re going to be here awhile. I’m hoping to persuade you to join me willingly tonight for a peyote and performance prayer meeting.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “West of here.”

  “And what does that entail?”

  “I present to my congregation two divinely prescribed paths to God. A natural, created compound that puts the mind on a sacred plane, and the physical love God created.”

  “Drugs and sex.”

  “If you’re going to be the queen of heaven, you’ll not be so crass.”

  “You really don’t have to tie me, you know.”

  Paul heard Mort working with what sounded like rolls of tape.

  “Eventually we must consummate our union, becoming one under heaven.”

  Angela didn’t respond.