Eddie never looked away from Gina. “Okay, vodka for Megan Ann, and for you, Ms. Mazzio?”
“Pellagrino is fine.”
Gina watched as Eddie ran his fingers through Megan Ann’s hair as he walked past her towards a large wet bar. She could see he was taken with her. Maybe this was what Megan Ann needed, someone to really care about her, treat her with respect and love.
Gina decided to be polite and take a couple of sips of the sparkling water, then be on her way.
* * *
Eddie could hear the buzz of their voices in the living room: Megan Ann, awake again, but getting quieter and quieter; Gina telling Megan Ann how worried everyone at work was about her absence. He guessed Gina was the one who had instigated the missing person report.
Eddie prepared their drinks, taking more time than necessary while he looked out the window at the patio trees and their blinking Christmas lights.
They say your life flashes before you just as you’re about to die. What will I see at that moment? Father, who hates me? Mother, who is long gone, who deserted me for someone or something more important than me?
He listened to the wind outside whistling through a partially opened window.
Did Mother ever care what was going to happen to me?
Before he picked up the drinks, he dropped a Roofie in Gina’s glass to match the one he’d given Megan Anne after the cops had left, then carried the two glasses into the living room.
Gina drank half her Pellagrino in a single continuous gulp. “Didn’t realize how thirsty I was.”
“I’m always thirsty,” Megan Ann mumbled, looking up at Eddie, but unable to lift a hand to take the glass from him.
Eddie knew she was drunk, doped up, and being silly, but the way she looked at him lanced his heart. No one except Mother had ever looked at him that way.
“I do have to be going,” Gina said.
He nodded, took a seat, and watched. Gina and Megan Ann’s eyes glazed over at the same time. Experience told him that really shouldn’t happen, given the difference in their ages and physiology, factored with the rate of alcohol consumption for one vs. none for the other. But there it was, both of them nodding off at the same moment.
₪ CHAPTER 38
Jacob St. George glared at his son, watched him struggle under the dead weight of some bitch slung over his shoulder. Eddie’s steps were heavy, his knees sagged, and he was drenched in sweat.
Just like the dumb ox he’s always been. And goddam if he isn’t making those disgusting squeaking sounds he’s made ever since he was a little brat.
He watched the veins and cords in Eddie’s neck bulge as he lowered the woman onto the hardwood cutting block. His son clutched at his chest, tried to catch his breath, then slumped onto a stool, wasted.
Pinpricks of hatred crawled up and down Jacob’s skin; he wanted to lash out at his son, tear his eyes out, knock him to the floor, stomp him. But there was no time for any of that. Milty would be here in less than an hour, expecting all the body parts to be packaged, individually labeled, and ready for delivery. He needed Eddie.
Jacob turned his attention to the woman on the block. She sure as hell wasn’t the one his son brought to the shop Monday; the one Eddie stole away.
This slut didn’t even look like a nurse, and she sure as hell wasn’t a redhead.
Miserable wimp. Nothing gets done the way I want it. Have to tell him over and over and over what to do, how to do it.
Jacob stared at the woman: big, tall, and dressed in goddam purple.
Detest that color. Goddam! What happened to nurses’ uniforms? Skirts, damn it! They’re supposed to look like women, angels of mercy.
This one’s dressed like Lola. Lola the fornicator. Lola the adulteress. Always wearing purple, taunting me with it, said it made her red hair look sexy. Sexy my ass. Only wore it because I hated it. She wanted to be pretty, wanted to fuck someone, anyone. Just not me.
He could still see her, still hear her in his head, like she was alive and torturing him. Until that voice shut down, other nurses would keep paying for her sins. That or until the crusher chewed up his brain, grinding it to mush and oblivion.
Jacob tried to eviscerate Eddie with a penetrating glare.
The purple bitch left behind a useless, ten-year-old sissy. Looking at Eddie only made Jacob hate her all the more for what she’d done.
Rotten cunt
“What the hell took you so long?”
“No more, Father,” Eddie said, avoiding Jacob’s eyes. He stood and rearranged the dark-haired woman on the table.
“Why’d you bring me this one? She’s not right and you know it. Not even a nurse.”
“She’s a nurse, Father.”
“Doesn’t look like a damn nurse.”
Jacob limped around the table, put a hand on the unconscious woman’s breast, then took heavy poultry shears from his hip pocket and cut away her clothes.
“Too big! Too tall!” He yanked the clothes from under her, like pulling a tablecloth from under a set with dinner dishes. “You know that. Dammit!” He reached out and tugged hard at the black hair on the woman’s head, then reached for her pubic hair. “Does this look like a redhead to you, dumb ass?”
He walked up to Eddie, who backed away even though his son towered over him. Jacob jabbed a finger into his chest.
“Where’s that little red-headed number you stole from me, took to that fancy uptown apartment of yours?”
Eddie continued to back-peddle, but his eyes were rebellious. “You can’t have her. She’s mine.”
Jacob laughed at the tall blob of nothing that was supposed to be his son. “Yours? What would you do with a woman, any woman? You’ll do what I tell you … you…” He tried to concentrate on the next word but his brain refused to focus. “Pussy,” he finally said. “Pussy! Pussy!”
“Say what ever you want, but you can’t have Megan Ann. She’s mine. I love her.”
Jacob’s tongue was thick; he couldn’t swallow his own spit. He reached into his apron pocket, opened the vial of pills, and without even counting, tossed several into his mouth, forcing them down by dry-swallowing over and over. Some of the pills flew out of his mouth; most went down his throat.
“Can’t have? You lost that fuckin’ pea brain of yours? This is a business, little Eddie St. George. You’re not walking away after all these years. I need those packages.”
“Take this one, then. She’s got what Hiller needs, same as Megan Ann.”
“Not the same. And fuck Hiller. They have to be right for me, you idiot. Right for me! Right for me! I want them small. I want their red hair. Real red hair. Is that so fucking hard to understand?”
The silence lengthened before Eddie replied: “No matter what you do to me, you’re not getting Megan Ann.”
Jacob’s stomach churned, threatened to erupt. His son was stupid. Puny and stupid.
“You’re the one who brings them here; you’re just as guilty as I am, Eddie. Somewhere in the back of that puny brain you gotta know that. The crusher’s going to get me; I’ll be dead, but you’ll get the big needle if you don’t do what I tell you. They don’t disappear without me.”
Jacob’s legs wouldn’t hold him; he dropped down hard on the stool Eddie had moved away from. His throat was still swollen. Why did all of this suddenly seem so funny? He laughed and laughed. “You talk to me about killing?”
Eddie looked at him, his face forming a big, fat, friggin’ question mark.
“Don’t go acting high and mighty. You’re a drone, a slave owned by those pill pushers.”
“We help people.”
“Even you don’t believe that shit. I’m dying because a blob of something no one can kill is eating away at my brain.”
That sounded really funny. He roared with laughter, croaked out, “Maybe I have mad cow.” He pointed at Eddie. “Do you get it? A butcher with mad cow!”
“Father! Stop it!”
The laughter was gone as quickly as it came. �
�What have your brilliant drug big shots done for me? What have you done for me?”
“I … I’ve tried to find a treatment for you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah! You work for a pack of hyenas. You lie to the docs, lie to the public. And for what? Money! Well you’re not the only one who can make money.”
“We do some good,” Eddie said.
“Well so do I, little boy. The body parts I sell do more good than those phony studies you scream about.”
“You murder people, Father.”
“We murder people, Eddie. We! Me, you, and that slimy drug company you work for. Don’t ever forget that.”
* * *
A velvety layer of green lifted Gina as she moved through tuft after tuft of scattered cirrus clouds. It was a balmy summer day; she was lying on her back, her body spread out in the long, soft grass.
Nice.
A piercing light jolted her out of the peacefulness. She stared out into a telescopic dot of light while spasmodic whispers of pain circled her muscles.
Where am I?
She’d gone to Eddie St. George’s penthouse, been there with him and Megan Ann. And what? The last thing she remembered was the glass of Pellagrino Eddie had served her.
Her mind started to float again, drifted off before she could reason out the details of what had happened, what was happening.
Purple clouds floated all around her and she dug her bare toes into the grass to feel its softness.
Ouch!
Someone yanked her hair, top and bottom. Cold air blanketed her; she shivered so hard her teeth chattered.
Where are my clothes? Need to cover myself. Can’t budge my arms or legs.
An explosion of voices assaulted her, the volume building from near subliminal to something like a sonic blast.
Two people. Arguing. One voice stirred a memory – the crazy one who’d called the Advice Center … called her apartment. What was he doing here?
This is important … have to get out of here … have to tell Yee.
Frigid air fanned her, curling her muscles into tight, painful knots.
Panic roiled over her.
She was back in her apartment, flat on her back. Dominick. had come from New York to kill her.
No!
She wanted to scream. Couldn’t.
What’s in my mouth? Stuck. Big. Like a ball. Oh, God! It’s my tongue.
* * *
Eddie stared at Father. Blinked. Stared harder. Father had changed. When had he become such a little man? He was just a shrunken version of his former self; his face was a chalky, shoe-polish white.
Was this the man who had beat him, made him a slave by promising over and over to tell him where Mother was? Was this the same man who’d raped and killed all those women Eddie lured to the shop? How many women had there been?
He couldn't remember. Didn’t want to remember.
Desperation crawled up his throat. The wheezing became more intense, louder.
He was eighteen when Father forced him to bring the first woman to the shop. Her and all the others were cut up, frozen, and sold. The packages.
Eddie inched around the table, looked at Gina, then peered into Father’s eyes.
“Time to stop, Father. Time to stop the killing. Now!”
The shriveled man expanded to fill his loose, sagging skin; what started out as a roar of anger turned into bellowing laughter.
“Who do you think you’re talking to, Eddie?”
* * *
Gina listened to the exchange between the two men, one on either side of her. She allowed her eyes to slit open when she finally established which one was that voice. She squinted, saw him. Eddie St. George! He was the caller! The room echoed with the wheezing sounds bursting from him – sounds she’d only heard before over the telephone.
On the other side, an older man Eddie called father, stood next to the table. He laughed viciously at the drug rep. At the same time, he looked down at her, poked her with a fingertip from time to time.
Where am I?
She shifted her eyes, moved her head slightly, afraid to draw attention to herself.
Ugly beef carcasses patterned with blue veins and yellow fat hung from hooks only a few feet from her; the fresh smell of blood and the acrid aroma of fear made the frigid air heavy. Next to her was a huge wooden rack of knives and saws.
Butcher shop? Why am I lying here naked in a butcher shop?
“I won’t do it!” Eddie shouted.
The older man ignored the protest, looked down at Gina again. “I need packages for Hiller. Tonight! And not just this one. Go! Bring me that redhead while I get this one ready. There’ll be plenty of money in it for you. You can buy a new Jaguar.”
“I’ve never taken the money, Father. You know that. And I never will; not tonight, never!”
“Dumb ox! Always said you didn’t know your ass from your elbow.”
Gina couldn’t unravel what they were talking about, couldn’t make the day’s events fit together. The father sounded insane as he yelled at Eddie. The words were garbled, difficult to comprehend.
A sharp pain jolted her hip. Eddie’s father had grabbed her leg, twisted it. She pushed hard at his chest with the other leg, surprised that she could move it. The kick barely fazed him except to produce a mild look of annoyance.
“Father! Leave her alone!”
Gina felt the hand release her leg. The older man started around the table after Eddie, who moved in the opposite direction. She inched carefully to one side of the table, eased off the edge, and let herself fall to the floor. Her fingers splayed out in mounds of wet, blood-tainted sawdust.
“Get her back up on the block!” the old man roared. She could see foam bubbling from his mouth, sliding down his chin.
She had to get away from them, had to hide.
Eddie yelled something back, and while the two men screamed at each other, she snaked across the floor towards a large meat locker. The door was open just a crack.
* * *
Jacob glared at his son. “You are telling me no?”
“Father. Let her go.”
“Weak! Just like that whore mother of yours.”
“Leave Mother out of this.”
Jesus, how he’d wanted to kill this whining piece of shit almost from the day he’d flopped out of his mother’s cunt. But torturing him had been almost as good as beating down Lola every time she fought her way up.
“Leave her out of it? She left me, goddam it! She found another man. The bitch left you behind. How many times do I have to tell you that? That ungrateful slut left you here for me to take care of. You belong to me. You’ve always belonged to me. When are you going to get it? Now go bring me what I asked for, what I need. The redhead!”
* * *
A large meat locker, its door barely open, was within inches of Gina’s fingertips; she was certain she could squeeze inside.
Her mind kept drifting, thinking of Harry, her brother Vinny, and Dominick. Their images hung in the air like layers of floating thoughts fogging her mind.
If she could just make it into the locker and close the door, maybe she could keep them all away. Escape when she could think again.
She clawed her way through the narrow opening, was almost inside when she heard Eddie’s father bellow:
“Come out, come out, wherever you are. We need to cut you up for Milty.”
He grabbed her before she could close the door, yanked on one ankle, then the other. She reached out for something to hold onto. Anything!
Her fingers dug into a heavy plastic bag. It didn’t stop her from being dragged out; the bag made no difference at all. It was dragged with her as he pulled her back into the room, into the glaring light.
”Give that to me, you bitch!”
Gina clutched the package, held onto…onto…
“Oh, my God!” she screamed.
The ice-crystal-coated plastic bag was filled with a human head. Large, bulging eyes stared out, framed by a head f
ull of red hair.
The old man let go of Gina’s leg, crawled forward and grabbed the plastic package away from her. He stood and held the bagged head up in the air
“Here, Eddie! I’ve kept my promise. Here she is. At last! Your mother’s been here with us all the time. And you know what? She’s going to stay here. The slut stays where I can see her adulterous face every time I open that door.”
He started to reach down for Gina, stopped, clutched his chest. A grimace contorted his face; his whole body shook as if hit by a powerful electrical charge.
Gina scooted away, watched as he tumbled to the floor, lay there twitching. She stared at Eddie, the caller. She was angry with him, but scared out of her wits by the father, and horrified by what she’d heard and seen. She needed to run, to get as far away as possible.
Eddie reached past her, picked up the bag, looked closely at the contents, and released a bone-chilling scream. Tears ran down his cheeks, his shoulders shook in agony.
“You killed her!” he yelled. He held the plastic bag out in front of his father, shook it at him. “You killed Mother!” His voice was like a huge rasp tearing through the air.
The father slowly raised his head, a look of satisfaction spreading across his face. He rolled over, reached up, grabbed for the cutting block, and pulled himself upright.
“I’d do it again if I could,” he screamed. “She was going to run away with some skinny teacher she met at that friggin’ night school. Wasn’t happy to be a butcher’s wife. Said she never would have married me if she hadn’t been pregnant with you. Both of you are nothing but two putrid peas from the same rotten pod.”
The room echoed with a primitive howl that ripped from Eddie’s throat. He grabbed a large butcher knife, leaped at his father.
Jacob held Eddie’s arm away from him. But Eddie twisted and turned until the knife hand was free.
“This is for Mother.” Eddie plunged the blade deep into his father’s chest. Again and again and again.
Gina watched the older man look down at his wounds; he sank to the floor, a creepy laugh bubbled from his throat.
“Finally did something worthy of a real man. Now you’ll pay the price. Pay in hell for what Lola St. George did to me.”
Sin & Bone: A Medical Thriller (The Gina Mazzio Series Book 2) Page 22