by Lucy Carol
Agent Cole’s quiet voice broke in. “Agent Cruz would do anything to keep you safe.”
Madison turned and looked at him. He added, “Once she found out about it, she would say or do anything Jerry wanted to back up any alibi he came up with. So would your grandfather. They would both be quiet and uncooperative if they thought talking would bring you harm. We’d never get testimony out of your grandfather, or…” he looked over at Nika, “or your grandmother, I imagine.”
Nika agreed saying, “No, you would not.”
Madison went still. She’d never thought of any of this before. She’d never want her family to fear for her safety.
“To me,” said Vladik, growling in his heavy Russian accent, “this is disgusting thought. He thinks I am that kind of man. He sees only his own motives.”
Agent Riley said, “But that’s why this will work, Vladik, because he thinks you’re just like him. We’ll honor our agreement with you, if you continue to help us with this.”
“I have already said I would. I did not come all this way to wish Jerry happy retirement. I did grave injustice to Veronica Fedora.” He put his arm around Nika. “We have tried many times over the years to find her little Anzhela, but this time it worked. I will see this through.”
Madison walked over to Nika and took her hand, saying, “I don’t know much about you, but I’d like to. When this is all over, let’s get to know each other. All right?”
Nika nodded but stood still. Remembering her own reaction to Nika in the hotel broom closet, Madison realized that it was up to her to break the ice now. She opened her arms to Nika, who smiled, coming forward, and Madison enjoyed the most heartfelt hug she’d had in a while. She said, “I’m sorry I hit your chin with my elbows. I got so scared; I didn’t understand what was going on.”
Nika chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes. “You completely surprised me. It was a good move.”
“So,” said Madison, turning to Agent Riley, “how would this work?”
“Vladik will bring him the money, they’ll have a chummy drink together like they usually do, then Jerry will call you to come meet him, somewhere here in the hotel. We don’t know how he intends to convince you, but he told Vladik he can guarantee you’ll show up. I’ll be nearby the whole time. He’ll hand you over to Vladik and you’ll go with him. Vladik will be wired, so we’ll hear the whole conversation.” He added, “Then I’ll take you to see your grandfather. He’ll be with Agent Cole.”
“So I’m supposed to go back down to the convention floor and wait for Jerry’s call?”
“That’s right,” he said. “But one last thing, we still need the contents of that metal box. Your grandfather listed a lot of things that were supposed to be in there. A couple of them could be helpful.”
“Oh. Well, it’s downstairs in the convention. When I switched clothes with Target, I gave her my tote bag to take with her.”
Agent Cole said, “We’ll take it all off your hands as soon as we can.”
*****
No white contact lenses or sunglasses, and her dark hair was no longer pinned up. She had it hanging down underneath her big floppy hat. She carried her phone in one hand, the fabric beach bag in the other, wishing she could change out of her zombie bathing suit and the poolside cover-up. She was tired of her zombie costume and the liquid latex wounds had started to itch.
Agent Cole already had taken her mother and Aaron to meet with Grandpa and Nika. Maybe Aaron would give the other three a little privacy. They were going to need it.
With Agent Riley down the aisle from her, she had to force herself not to look in his direction as she wandered the convention, undead life having gone forth without her presence, and wondered what she should say to her friends. She longed for normal life, surprised to realize it had only been a few days since everything had turned upside down. Maybe she shouldn’t even go to ExBoy’s booth. There would be uncomfortable questions and even more uncomfortable answers. No, as it was, they were probably having a great time. She wanted to keep it that way for them.
Stepping around a stroller containing a rosy cheeked cherub of a baby boy, she exchanged a quick smile with the mother. The little guy was somewhere in that in-between age, not quite an infant but barely a toddler. He was passed out cold, his head tilted to the side, pink little heart-shaped lips in a wet pucker. His small hand clutched a soggy cookie while a favored toy lay forgotten in his lap. Something about his peaceful oblivion brought tears to Madison’s eyes. She wanted to feel like that, perhaps watching a field of flowers bending in the breeze or a litter of puppies at play. But no, instead of puppies, she got Uncle Enemy.
She had to get a grip. Her part in all this was not done.
Trying to appear as if everything were normal, she stopped at a table, feigning interest in baking molds in the shapes of brains, skulls, and single bones. Picking one up, she turned it over, pretending to examine it while she wondered when Jerry would call. Did he know where she was right now?
Feeling impatient to get the meeting over, Madison exhaled loudly. If he doesn’t call soon, I’m going to go out of my…”
A gentle voice said, “Madison.” Toonie stepped up, her chef’s costume still in perfect zombie condition. “Your mother’s been worried.” She looked up and around the nearby area, adding, “Did she find you yet?”
“Not exactly,” said Madison, feeling self-conscious again, taking off her hat.
“We all split up,” said Toonie. “Everyone is looking.”
“Who’s everyone?” asked Madison.
“Your mother and a nice young fella named Aaron something and all your friends.” She gave her a wry smile. “You sure have some interesting friends.”
“Why would my mom be looking for me?”
“She got a call from ExBoy. He told her about Target coming back to tell us you had to hide from someone, that you were so scared you had to disguise yourself. She heard you talk to him on the phone, calling him Jerry.” She looked at Madison for a second, thoughts going by unspoken. She added, “We were all under strict orders not to call your cell phone. What’s that about?”
Looking around, Madison said, “This isn’t a good place to talk about it.” She started them walking, saying, “Come on. Let’s start by meeting up at the booth.”
Still down the aisle a way from ExBoy’s Infect Me booth, she could see Target and Crystal in conversation, worried looks on their faces. Target looked up and saw Madison. Madison could make out the words on Target’s lips saying, “Oh, thank God.” Target looked over her shoulder at ExBoy, saying something to him. Madison girded herself, seeking access to her most confident face. Time to look strong.
ExBoy turned his head for a moment from customers browsing his artwork in the long comic book boxes on the table. He saw Madison approaching before he bent to sign the inside cover of a copy of Infect Me. Target said something to him, gesturing towards Madison with her hand, and he nodded. It looked as if Target was taking over the money exchange to free him up for a minute. But he stood there instead next to the Victorian grandfather clock, a slight smirk on his face, looking sexy as ever as he watched Madison approach. Madison wondered what he had to smirk about.
Then, from around the grandfather clock, out stepped Jason, his expression deeply worried till he saw her and his eyes locked with hers. With a sudden exhale, relief flooded his face. Her pace went into slow motion with her shock, losing all the girded up strength she had summoned. The bag dropped.
He caught her as she ran into his arms, tears and zombie makeup smearing the t-shirt on his chest. She looked up at him, her green eyes wet, trying to understand what he was doing here.
“I thought you’d be all wrapped up in the next pretty girl,” she said.
“You are the next pretty girl,” he said. “And the next.”
Turning his face away, his soft expression went hard and smug as he looked over at ExBoy saying, “This is exactly what it looks like.”
“Just because she ran t
o you?” said ExBoy. “Want to use my room? Her things are already in there.”
“Stop it!” said Madison. “There’s no time. Something serious is…” Then realization grew, her blunder becoming clear. She looked at Jason. “You’re here because I sent you that text.” Jerry would have seen it. She looked around in a panic. Where was Agent Riley? He should be told.
“I couldn’t get here fast enough,” said Jason. “My grandfather couldn’t remember where he’d put the phone number those federal agents gave him. He was still looking for it when I left. I saw your mom when I got here and joined the search, then she asked me to wait here at the booth.”
Target stepped up, giving Madison a hug while Madison said, “I’m sorry to put you all through this.”
“You’d do it for us in a heartbeat,” said Target, “and we all know that.”
Madison craned her neck over the crowds. Agent Riley was on his cell phone, storming up the aisle towards her, his expression furious.
He arrived in a huff, saying, “I just got a call from Mitch Clark. You sent a fucking text? You mentioned DC?” He yelled, “What the hell were you thinking?”
ExBoy inserted himself between them. “Hey, fairy ass, back off!”
“I’m sorry!” said Madison over ExBoy’s shoulder to Agent Riley. “I sent it before you told me about the phone tapping.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” he yelled.
Without saying a word, Jason shoved him hard, and Agent Riley almost came at him, but controlled himself at the last second. With one hand on his hip, and the other rubbing his forehead, he said, “We were thinking of calling if off anyway. Your little family reunion went badly, with your mother storming out. She could ruin this if she’s seen. Your grandfather went after her, we don’t know where Veronica went, and Vladik is already with Jerry.” He tossed his hands went in the air as he groused, “They only sent two of us, and we can’t babysit everyone!”
He pointed at her, his voice still angry. “So you stay here while we sort out this mess.” He stormed off.
Just then, the phone in Madison’s hand started ringing with the theme music to Jaws. Embarrassed that she still hadn’t changed the ringtone to something nicer for her mother, she confessed, “That’s my mom calling. Oh God what am I going to say to her?”
She looked up at her perplexed friends, knowing there would be a lot of explaining to do, but right now, her mother was more important.
She took a deep breath, calming herself as much as was possible, and answered. She was not prepared for what she heard.
From her cell phone, Jerry’s voice said, “Listen and don’t react. We wouldn’t want your new little fairy friends to get too excited.”
Chapter Thirty One
“We’ll keep it simple. Vladik tells me there was an interesting box that you rushed out of Vincent’s house with,” said Jerry. “I’m very curious about it. Now nod your head and say I understand, Mom.”
Madison nodded her head, her voice coming out small, “I understand, Mom.”
“Very good,” he said. “You know, she tried her best for you, but you were an ungrateful little shit. I almost felt sorry for her. There she was, brilliant like her mother, but stuck with you. I’ll bet you never apologized to her. Why don’t you do so now? Say, I’m sorry, Mom.”
Fear was making her voice shake now, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Well,” he said, “I guess some of it is the influence of this generation. They don’t grow them like they used to. Even this newer generation of agents is a joke. It’s been so easy to play these guys.” He sighed. “Ah, well. Fun’s almost over. Now ask your mom when you can see her.”
“Mom?” Madison’s voice shook, “When can I see you?”
“Well now that depends. Would you like to see some blue satin gowns?”
“What?” Like a bad dream where unrelated things added to the confusion, Madison tried to grasp his meaning. “Blue satin gowns?” Target stepped closer.
“Yes, they’re quite lovely. Bring the contents of that box, and you’ll get to see them.”
Madison looked up at Target, worry reflected in her eyes. She looked around inside ExBoy’s booth, and spotted her tote bag that Target had taken with her when they’d switched clothes and bags that morning.
“Okay,” said Madison, trying to smooth the expression on her face while she picked up the tote bag, putting the straps over her shoulder.
“Wonderful. Say, I’ll rush right over.”
She couldn’t look any of her friends in the eyes as they watched her, confused. She said, “I’ll rush right over.”
“There’s a lovely wedding reception going on right now,” said Jerry. “It’s up on the second floor. You should sit with your Uncle Jerry for a spell. Say, that sounds great, Mom, just the two of us.”
Madison cleared her throat, trying to regain control. “That sounds great, Mom. Just the two of us.”
“And so we understand each other; if you really do want to see your mother again, you’ll get your little ass up here, alone, in less than three minutes. I suggest the stairs. The elevators are prone to have fairies in them.” He hung up.
She sprang down the aisle not seeing or caring about the destruction she left behind her. People were pushed aside, packages dropped, drinks splashed, and brain shaped gelatin treats smashed to the floor. Holding her right arm down tight on the tote bag at her side, she ignored the numerous bruises being born on her legs and hips as she rounded corners a little too tight. Painful table edges left marks. Like a bad dream in her peripheral vision, the chaos in her wake held no urgency compared to the greater nightmare waiting at the finish line. She flew out of the main convention doors, back out into the main lobby of the hotel. How much time!? How much time has passed?
She came to a stop that wasn’t really a stop since she was hopping up and down, shifting left to right to left again, as she whipped her head all around, searching the periphery of the lobby, seeking the stairs. An agonized cry broke from her throat when she couldn’t see any stairs anywhere. “NO!” She spun around in time to see a young woman wearing a long strapless gown in sapphire blue satin just like the ones in the elevator that morning. The young woman had entered the main lobby from a hallway. Madison bolted for that hallway, racing so closely past the woman that a stroke of her leg slapped the edge of the satin gown, causing it to snap like a flag in fierce wind.
Running down the hallway, her hope was elevated as she saw that although this direction had more people and was harder to navigate, many of them were well-dressed as if they might be attending a wedding reception.
She dodged and pivoted around the wedding guests looking frantically for the stairs, finally spotting them. They were wide and carpeted with an elegant balustrade of dark wood, the type of staircase intended for making a grand entrance. Madison tried to fly up the stairs, attempting to take two steps at a time, but the steps were simply too deep for her stride. She ran one step at a time keeping away from the inner balustrade where most of the people ascending or descending had chosen to cluster.
Gasping for air, her burst of speed spent, Madison pushed onward as fast as she could, arriving at the mid-level landing. Easier running across the long flat landing allowed her a moment to look upward to see the well-dressed population thicken at the next level up, as music floated down to where she was. As she arrived at the top of the stairs, a few heads turned her way, a smile or a confused look, but some seemed to be making a statement by ignoring her so pointedly. No doubt the word had spread by now that there was a zombie convention going on downstairs, and one stray zombie wouldn’t ruin their fun. The tinkling of ice could be heard from the varying cocktails being held by the guests in the hallway, an open bar somewhere on this floor doing a brisk business.
Madison felt a new terror growing as she suddenly realized she didn’t know where to go from here. She had arrived at the open doors of the wedding reception but now what? Breathing heavy, her legs weak from the run, she stepp
ed past the doors into the party. A male singer with too much reverb in the mix was crooning an old lounge jazz standard accompanied by a keyboardist, light on his fingers. The beat of the drummer’s brushes lent an attitude of an old time cool.
There was a small dance floor in front of the band with guests in fine attire, pulling out their best moves and grooves, a few of those sapphire blue gowns trying to shake what was covered by all that satin. On the edges of the dance floor were dozens of large round tables, each table seating eight to ten, like small islands of crisp white linen with flowered centerpieces. Clear plastic forks, leftover cake and drinks, or a jeweled evening handbag here and there were on the tabletops. A mirror ball at the ceiling spun, throwing little lights over the tables, dancers, and band. Laughter, music, and the occasional pop of yet another bottle of champagne, blended with the singer’s voice. And someone, somewhere in the crowd, sang along off-key while others begged him to stop.
A woman slapped a man not too far from where Madison stood, angry accusations drowned out by the man’s voice claiming the lady in his arms was the one kissing him.
Madison cried out a quick burst when Jerry suddenly stepped up alongside her, putting his arms around her with jovial laughter as if he’d just understood her joke. Guests nearby gave polite chuckles as if they’d heard the joke and understood it, too. He then led her to one of the round tables in the corner of the room. Sitting on the white tablecloth beside the flowered centerpiece were a few small plates with the remnants of wedding cake, the icing left with crumbles on the plates, and a few glasses with a bit of amber colored drink left at the bottom. Jerry appeared to have the table all to himself at the moment.
Incredulous at his gall and feeling angry with herself for letting her fear show, she raised her chin and said, “How did you manage to get yourself invited here?”
He smiled at her and shook with quiet laughter, saying, “I’m not invited. I’m a dignified old man in an expensive suit, who acts hard of hearing. They probably think I’m someone’s great-uncle.”