Vendetta

by Fern Michaels

  “Just fine, dear, now that I know Charles is all right. I did have a few bad moments there. I can’t say I blame our guest for going berserk. Under the same circumstances, I would fight like a tiger. I think most people would. Mr. Chai seems to have accepted his present situation, at least for now. He looks quite docile, don’t you think?”

  “He’s tied up, Myra, he really doesn’t have any choice. If he moves or struggles, his bonds cut into his flesh.”

  “He’s not quite as belligerent as he was before he threw his little…tantrum that we managed to squelch. He’s such an…an unsavory person,” Myra said, always the lady.

  “He’s a ring-tailed son of a bitch, Myra,” Nikki said through her clenched teeth. And Jack Emery knows all about him.

  Nikki drew Myra aside and whispered. “Did you and Charles decide what we’re going to do with Chai once this is all over?”

  “I’m not sure, dear. I think the plan is to drop him off at the Chinese embassy. That may have changed since we discussed it. We did discuss sending him to England. Personally, I don’t much care where he goes or what he does once I get finished with him. Do you have any suggestions, Nikki?”

  “If something comes to me, I’ll let you know. Are you ready, Myra?”

  “I’m ready, dear.” Myra reached for the bamboo cane.

  Sixteen

  It was a ceremony of sorts. The seven women stepped aside so that Myra could go to the head of the line. Charles’s expression was inscrutable, his hands rock steady. This was his vengeance as much as it was Myra’s. Barbara was his daughter, too. It was his decision, not Myra’s, to keep it a secret, even from Barbara, who had loved him dearly. After her death, he told himself, over and over, some things were better left alone. His daughter’s death was one of those things.

  Myra balanced the cane in her hand. It was heavier than she expected, which meant she would have to use both hands when it was time to strike the man standing in front of her. Holding the cane, she started the slow walk around the naked form of John Chai, the others close behind. Each of them took a minute to stare at the man they were going to cane. No one blinked; no one flinched.

  John Chai begged with his eyes and then he sobbed as he pleaded for mercy. The women ignored him as they took up positions behind Myra. When Chai’s sobs stopped, the silence was so total it was deafening.

  The women expected Myra to make a short speech but she didn’t. Instead she raised the cane and said, “You know why this is happening. Don’t insult me again by begging.” The cane found its mark in the middle of Chai’s shoulders, the tails flinging to the right and left. Olive-colored skin flew in all directions. The cane came down a second time across Chai’s buttocks, the tails striking him on his thighs. Blood and skin spurted outward. Chai squealed like a stuck pig. Myra lowered the cane and stepped forward to peer at the damage she’d done before she handed the cane to Kathryn.

  Kathryn hefted the cane as though it was a javelin. She walked around to the front of the chair and, with the end of the cane, lifted his chin. “Look at me!” Chai squeezed his eyes shut. He whimpered like a sick cat. Kathryn backed up several steps, flexed the cane as she judged the distance and tried to figure out how much damage the tails could do. She backed up two more steps and in the blink of an eye the cane came down on Chai’s mid-section. He squealed again and again, cursing in Chinese as he sagged under his bonds. The cane came up again and Kathryn brought it down across his groin, the bamboo tails splitting every inch of skin they came in contact with. Chai passed out as Kathryn handed the cane over to Yoko.

  Yoko aimed for Chai’s bald head and whipped the cane as fast as she could. Chai’s head and face were no longer distinguishable. She stepped back and handed the cane to Nikki.

  Nikki gritted her teeth as she struck out with the cane to lash at Chai’s knees and legs, then she handed the weapon to Alexis, who walked behind the man to cane his thighs. She brought the weapon down twice before handing the cane over to Isabelle, who finished the job by caning the backs of the Chinese man’s legs.

  Isabelle handed over the cane to Julia, who shook her head and whispered, “There’s no more flesh to cane.” She handed the cane to Charles, who did his best not to look at the flesh and blood sticking to the bamboo strips. He tossed the cane to the ground and walked over to John Chai to inspect his battered body. He nodded to the women that it was time for them to leave. None of them needed to be told twice. They scurried quicker than the rats as they made their way out of the tunnels.

  In the kitchen, they looked at one another, their faces shocked at what they’d just done.

  “Tea, anyone?” Myra said.

  “Screw the tea, Myra, we need something a little more substantial. Where’s the hard stuff?” Myra pointed to the cabinet. Kathryn withdrew two bottles of hundred-proof brandy, and handed them around. “This is no time for social manners. Swig and pass the bottle around.” They didn’t sip, they gulped — even Myra.

  “I never saw a skinned man before,” Alexis said hoarsely.

  “Is it going to ruin your life now that you’ve seen it?” asked Kathryn, tougher than nails.

  Alexis took another gulp of brandy before she responded. “Not one little bit.”

  Julia’s voice was quiet, conversational. “He could get a massive infection and die.”

  “Yes, that could happen, but it won’t. Charles knows exactly what to do. Mr. Chai is being taken care of as we speak,” Myra said. “However, the man will never be the same again. Now that we’ve exacted my vengeance, I want to thank you all for everything you’ve done to help me. Perhaps we should retire now.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help, Charles?” Julia asked.

  “No, dear, there is nothing for you to do. Charles has everything under control. Goodnight, girls.”

  Their eyes solemn, the women waved to Myra as she made her way to the kitchen staircase that led to the second floor. They started to chatter the moment their leader was out of earshot.

  “Will the man die, Julia?” It was the question they all wanted to ask, but only Yoko voiced it.

  Julia poked her finger into the dirt of her plant sitting under the kitchen skylight. She stirred the loose dirt and then added a quarter cup of water to the healthy plant. “I don’t know, Yoko. If Myra said Charles has it under control, then I believe he does. I would imagine he has a large blanket that is spread with an antibacterial ointment. Mr. Chai will be given antibiotics and painkillers orally or perhaps by injection. I think the plan is to take him to a hospital in the next day or so after we…After we make a few suggestions.”

  Nikki nibbled on her lower lip. “It had better be damn quick then.” At the women’s questioning looks, she told them about Jack Emery’s phone call.

  “He’s on to us,” Alexis moaned, imagining life in a prison cell again. “My God, what are we going to do? Are you going to meet him? Why don’t you want Myra and Charles to know?”

  “I didn’t want to spoil Myra’s…She waited so long. I guess I thought Charles would call a halt and go after Jack himself. I don’t know if I made a mistake or not. We need to make a plan, girls.” The two brandy bottles continued to circulate around the kitchen table.

  The ever-verbal Kathryn spoke up. “It sounds to me like Jack Emery has really pieced everything together. We can’t pretend we don’t know about it for your sake, Nikki. And let’s not forget his friend Mark Lane.”

  All eyes turned toward Nikki. They waited. Her voice was cold and tight when she said, “I agreed to meet him to stall him so Myra could have her revenge this evening. What else could I do? Look, if you’re worried about me, don’t be. I know where my allegiance lies. I’ll do whatever I have to do as long as we all agree.”

  Isabelle asked, “Are you still in love with Jack?”

  Nikki leaned back in her chair. Her first reaction was to lie but then she answered truthfully. “Yes. But, that doesn’t change anything. Jack is prepared to go to the authorities, and I belong to the gro
up, so he won’t bat an eye about turning me in if he has proof. But the operative word here is proof. Does he have any? I don’t know. Is he blowing smoke? I don’t know. He’s got his theories and those theories are on the money. Sooner or later, someone in authority is going to listen to him. I’m surprised he hasn’t gone to some newspaper reporter. I think we’re safe until he does that. The flip side to that is then it’s too late for all of us. So, let’s spin this. I’ll go with the majority.”

  Upstairs, Myra sat down on the top step and hugged her knees. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Murphy did his best to lick them away. Myra reached out to stroke the shepherd’s head.

  “Mom, you need to tell Charles.”

  “Oh, Barbara, is that you? Oh, thank you for…for coming to talk to me. I think about you every minute of the day. What is it you want me to tell Charles, dear?”

  “You have to tell him about Jack and Nikki. Don’t pretend you didn’t hear what they were saying down there. Charles needs to know. By the way, you did good down there, Mom.”

  More tears rolled down Myra’s cheeks. “Then why don’t I feel better? We skinned that horrible man. Because he…he took you and your unborn child away from us. I’ll be a murderer if he dies.”

  “He’s not going to die, Mom. People like him live to ripe old ages. You were right about something, though. He’s never going to be the same. His life as he knew it will never be what it was. His best hope is that he has some good memories to make his new life bearable. You need to go down to the tunnels and talk to Charles. We have to watch out for Nikki and the others. Jack Emery can ruin everything you’re doing and planning on doing in the future. Are you listening to me, Mom?”

  “Of course I’m listening, Barbara. Nikki still loves Jack.”

  “Yes, she does, but she’s no fool, Mom. Our Nik is a bright girl. She’ll try to do what’s right. Trying might not be good enough, Mom. Don’t waste time; go to Charles. I’m going to my old room to wait for Nik. I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too, darling girl. More than you can ever know. I’ll do what you ask and talk to Charles.”

  Murphy nudged Myra’s neck with his snout. Myra continued to stroke his big head as she ran the conversation with her dead daughter over in her mind. Did she dream it? Was it all the brandy she’d had in the kitchen? Or was it wishful thinking on her part? Maybe all of the above.

  Holding on to the stair railing, Myra got to her feet, feeling a hundred years old, ancient, as she made her way down the long hallway that led to the spiral staircase in the middle of the house. She quietly made her way down the steps, Murphy at her side. She stopped at the bottom to listen. She could hear voices in the kitchen but she couldn’t distinguish the words. She then made her way to the secret door, Murphy still with her, nudging her along.

  Myra came to a stop when she reached the opening in the tunnel that led to John Chai’s cell. All traces of what had gone on a short while ago were gone. Even the platter of food was nowhere to be seen. The bamboo cane and the CD player were also gone. Charles was leaning against the wall, staring into the cell where John Chai lay wrapped in a pristine white blanket soaked with a soothing antibacterial salve. His face and head glistened with the same antibacterial ointment. Myra thought he looked dead.

  Murphy walked over to Charles and poked his leg with his snout. Charles continued to stare into the cell. “What is it, Myra?”

  She told him all about Jack Emery.

  “Ah, another problem. Well, I have all night to think about it. I want to stay here in case Mr. Chai tries to unwrap himself.”

  Myra’s voice was bitter. “And if he does?”

  “He could get an infection and die on us. That will make us murderers. We don’t want that, Myra. We may be many things, my dear, but we are not murderers. Tomorrow evening he will be taken to a private hospital.”

  “That’s it?” Myra asked in disbelief. For a moment she looked outraged.

  “There’s a little more to it,” Charles said carefully. “My people will take over from there. At some point, Mr. Chai will be transported to England and from England back to his own country.”

  “And this never happened?” Myra said softly.

  “And this never happened,” Charles said just as softly.

  “Was it just, Charles? Did we avenge our little girl? Are we going to be able to live with ourselves?”

  Charles took so long to answer that Myra pressed his arm for a response. “Yes, Myra, it was just. Extreme, but just. We both have to accept the fact that nothing can truly avenge our little girl. She’s still gone. Will we be able to live with ourselves? We might have a few bad moments from time to time, but yes, I think we will be able to. It’s late, Myra. Go to bed and I’ll sit here and think about our newest problem.”

  “All right, dear. I’ll go to bed, but I know I won’t be able to sleep. Goodnight.” Myra leaned over to kiss Charles’s cheek. Murphy woofed softly as he led the way out of the tunnel.

  In the kitchen the girls were still talking. Myra headed for the main staircase. Suddenly she was so tired she could barely stand. She sat down on the fourth step from the bottom. Barbara and Nikki had slid down this staircase hundreds of times. She’d placed pillows at the bottom so they wouldn’t hurt themselves. She herself had slid down the bannister on her fiftieth birthday, or was it her sixtieth? For the life of her she couldn’t remember. But in the scheme of things, it wasn’t important.

  Myra leaned against the newel post and closed her eyes. She was asleep in an instant. Murphy tilted his head to the right and then to the left. When he was satisfied Myra was asleep, he stretched his body out on the third step, his big head on his paws. He didn’t close his eyes though.

  A long time later, when Myra’s hold on the newel post grew lax and slipped, Murphy reared up and raced to the kitchen, where he tugged on Kathryn’s pant leg, his signal that she was to follow him. She got up and ran after her dog, the others following.

  Together the girls managed to get Myra upstairs to her bedroom. She mumbled and muttered but didn’t wake up. Nikki covered her with a flowered quilt, turned on the night light and left the door ajar.

  “Stay, Murphy,” Kathryn ordered.

  Murphy hopped on to the bed and scratched around for a few minutes before he settled himself at the foot. This time, he closed his eyes.

  Outside in the hallway, Nikki turned to the others. “We’ll meet in the kitchen at five thirty. Goodnight, everyone.”

  They each made their way to their respective rooms. No one said a word.

  Seventeen

  For hours Nikki watched the red numerals on the digital clock turn over. It was almost five o’clock. Time to get up, shower and meet the girls in the kitchen. All night long she’d let her mind go in all directions. She was no closer to knowing what to do about Jack Emery than she was when she went to bed hours ago. All she knew was that she was going to meet him at Mulligan’s Café for doughnuts and coffee.

  She’d never been a good liar. When she was a child, Myra had drummed into both her and Barbara that “The truth will set you free.” Not this time, Myra. Not this time. The truth will land us all in jail with Jack Emery standing on the other side taunting us the way we taunted John Chai.

  During the long hours of the night she’d toyed with the idea of asking Jack and his partner to join the Sisterhood. If she did that, it would be an admission of guilt. She still loved Jack, but she didn’t trust him. Just the way he didn’t trust her. How sad this all was.

  Nikki swung her legs over the side of the bed and headed for the shower. She looked back once to see if the rocker was moving or if Willie, Barbara’s worn teddy bear, was where she’d left it. Everything in her bedroom looked normal. She felt sick to her stomach when she brushed her teeth.

  Nikki was in and out of the shower within minutes. As she dressed for the day, she craned her neck to see what the weather was like outside. Darkness. Suddenly she wanted to cry the way she’d cried as a child when her problem
s seemed insurmountable. One last look in the mirror showed dark circles under her eyes. She shrugged. At least they would match her navy wool sweater and matching slacks. She wore no makeup. What was the point? She was almost to the door when she walked back to the small dressing table to spray perfume on her wrists and the lobes of her ears.

  The room still looked normal. The rocker was still and Willie was right where she’d left him. Nikki closed her eyes for a second, hoping she’d hear Barbara’s voice when she reopened them. It didn’t happen. She was on her own. Shoulders slumped, she made her way down the hall and down to the kitchen.

  Nikki blinked when her foot hit the last step. The girls were seated at the kitchen table, even Myra. Charles was serving breakfast. How had she not noticed the fragrant aromas?

  “How…how’s our…guest?” was all Nikki could think to ask.

  Charles took a moment to look up from the grapefruit he was scoring. “Mr. Chai is resting as comfortably as can be expected. He’s heavily sedated but his vital signs are stable. He isn’t going to perish, if that’s your next question.”

  Nikki reached up for the grapefruit. She wondered if she would be able to eat it. She tried, but in the end she slid it to the middle of the table before she reached for her coffee cup.

  “Are you girls ready to hear our plan?” Myra asked as she gazed at Nikki. “The girls told me you were going to go to meet Jack Emery and then play it by ear. I’m afraid we need more of a plan. Charles thinks he might have a solution.”

  “I’m certainly all ears,” Alexis said.

  “We all are,” Isabelle agreed.

  “For starters,” Charles said, “the roads are clear so driving is no problem. They are predicting several more inches of snow later this evening, but that won’t interfere with our plans.”

  Nikki stared out of the kitchen window. The new day was just beginning. In another few minutes it would be blinding white outdoors. She gritted her teeth. “What are our plans, Charles?”