Double Vision

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Double Vision Page 12

by L. M. Halloran


  You’re also wondering if I’m alive. I hope so, but there’s always a chance he’s found me. I move every few years. Take a new name. I keep to myself. I tell no one about my past. I’m so sorry, Eden, but some day you might have to live this way, too. But I hope not.

  As you noticed, there was a lot of money in the safety deposit box. It totals around $600k. But as I’m sure you also noticed, the money wasn’t the most valuable thing you found. That is your way out. What can give you and Alexis a future.

  Another question I’m sure you have—Why didn’t I go to the cops? Because it’s too great a risk, then and now. I can say with certainty that at least a few detectives at the LAPD are on Maddoc’s payroll. At least one person in the DEA is, as well. No matter how much time has passed, some things don’t change. I’ll tell you again—trust no one.

  I won’t suggest where you should go, except to say there are some lovely islands in the world. Between the two of you, I’m sure you’ll find a place. That’s my hope, my greatest dream. That my girls find a home together somewhere safe.

  Don’t try to find me. Don’t tell Margaret or Ben what you’re doing, either. Not because they’re not good people, but because they are, and will do what good people do and call the police.

  Be smart. Be brave. I know you’ll figure it out, my strong girl.

  I love you,

  EGS

  “Well, shit,” I tell the empty car. I fold the letter and slip it back in its envelope, then pull the velvet pouch from my pocket.

  Carefully removing the item inside, I stare at it. Then I get paranoid again, imagining high-powered sniper rifles and zoom cameras, and shove it back inside. It clinks against the other items in the bag. I wince, then logic arrives.

  Plastic can’t hurt diamonds.

  When I get home, my mom is so relieved she starts crying. My dad gives me another bear hug but doesn’t speak. After a long look at my mother, he disappears into the garage.

  As I nibble on leftovers from their dinner, my mom eventually asks what I found.

  “A letter dated fifteen years ago,” I tell her, not meeting her gaze. “A little bit of cash. Two hundred dollars.”

  She’s silent for close to a minute. I force myself to keep chewing until I finish my meal, then take my plate to the sink.

  “And did she… tell you what you’re supposed to do? How you’re supposed to help your sister?”

  Turning to lean against the counter, I shake my head. “Just a lot of paranoid rambling about leaving the country.” I snort. “Like I’m supposed to do that with two hundred bucks.”

  I feel bad. I do. But Elizabeth was right—if I tell them there’s close to a million dollars, a USB stick, and enough diamonds to buy a small country in my bag, they’ll call the police.

  They’d probably let me keep the money, though. I could pay off their mortgage, my student loans, and go through med school debt free. It’s really too bad none of that is enough incentive to pull me off this runaway train.

  The biggest problem with Elizabeth’s warning is that even though I don’t trust my parents to not call the authorities, there’s one person I do trust. Implicitly. With my life. Regardless of whether or not he wants me in his.

  But before I go back to L.A., I have to find a safe place for my secret.

  41

  I walk into Benny’s Feed and Tackle the following morning and head straight to the woman behind the counter.

  “Hi there,” she says brightly. “What can I help you find?”

  “I’m looking for Benny. Is he here today? I’m an old friend.”

  She gives me a once-over. “You must mean Benny Jr., as Benny Sr. has passed. Can I ask what business you have with him?”

  I get out of my head long enough to realize the subtext to her question. My biggest hints are the dangerous gleam in her brown eyes and the diamond on her ring finger. She’s a few years older than me, pretty and rosy-cheeked, and noticeably pregnant.

  “I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I’m being so rude. My name is Eden Sumner. Benny was a few years ahead of me in high school. We were good friends.” After a pause, I add softly, “But that’s all we were.”

  I’ve hit the mark with my last statement; the worry leaves her brown eyes. “Eden Sumner?” she asks with a hint of recognition. “Pretty sure Benny told me about you. Were you the one who stuck up for him all those times?”

  I shrug. “Kids are assholes. I just did what anyone would do.”

  This time, her smile is genuine. “As Benny tells it, you did what no one else would do.” She picks up a cordless phone. “Let me ring his office. He’s back there doing paperwork.”

  “Thanks.”

  I wander an aisle nearest the registers, not really seeing much, until the woman calls in my direction, “He’ll be right out!”

  Less than a minute later, a handsome, bearded man turns into my aisle. Not until he grins do I recognize him. Same dimples. Same eyes.

  “Is that you, Eden?” he asks, laughing. “You a movie star yet?”

  I gape at him. “Never mind me! Good God, Benny, you look like a different person.”

  Chuckling, he grabs me in a spine-cracking hug. “Blame my wife, Jenny. You met her up front. She finally convinced me to start taking care of myself so I don’t go out the way Dad did.” He slaps his flat stomach. “Lost over a hundred and fifty pounds.”

  “I’ll say! You look great. I was sorry to hear about your dad.”

  “Thanks,” he says, old grief clouding his eyes. “Heart attack a few years ago. Business is doing pretty good, though. Hope he’s proud.”

  “I know he is.” My warmth is unfeigned; from our many conversations after school, I know he and his father had a close relationship. “Congrats on the beautiful wife. A baby on the way, too?”

  His smile is beatific. “Yep. Thanks, Eden. So what brings a big-shot city girl such as yourself back to nowhere?”

  I laugh. My desire to get out of Philomath was no secret when we were younger. Even with Corvallis nearby and Portland not too far north, my sights had stayed fixed on bigger, more exotic fish. To my everlasting regret.

  “Just a quick trip to see my parents,” I tell Benny. “But I wanted to stop by and say hello.” Here goes nothing. “I have a weird question I wanted to ask you, too.”

  His brows lift. “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Does your family still own that land out near Eddyville?”

  “Yeah, we still got it. Market’s so bad right now it’s cheaper to keep it. Old house has seen better days—needs to be torn down.” He frowns. “Why on earth are you asking?”

  The chances of anyone connecting Benny and me as friends is slim to none. Not unless someone digs up old detention rosters. In spite of my near-perfect academic record, I’d had a habit of punching bullies. Unfortunately for Benny, he was often caught in the crossfire and punished alongside me.

  I take a deep breath. Luck saved Elizabeth and me once upon a time. Maybe it will be on my side again.

  “I need a favor.”

  That night in bed, I stare at the shadowed ceiling of my childhood bedroom, sleepless despite an afternoon of back-breaking work in the actual middle of nowhere.

  I’ve been second-guessing my decision nonstop for the last hour. I should have looked at what was on the flash drive. I should have made ten copies and sent them all over the country. What if someone finds it? What if they tear the house down?

  What if what if what if?

  But for better or worse, it’s done. Tomorrow night after dinner, I’m sneaking out of my bedroom window like I’ve only done once before during a short-lived attempt at rebellion.

  I’m catching a bus to Eugene, where I’ll follow in my mother’s footsteps and find a cheap used car. I don’t have a fake ID, but I’m banking on greed to cut the red tape.

  Everyone loves cash, right?

  42

  Fourteen hours behind a wheel is about eleven hours too long. When I finally enter Los Angeles,
it’s close to midnight and I’m seeing shadow-people in my rearview. I need food and caffeine badly. Not to mention a toilet. I’m so loopy I don’t consider the risk as I drive straight to the one place that has all three.

  When I walk in the door of Al’s, I’m surprised by the level of nostalgia that hits me. The smell of grease is stronger than I remember, the late-night crowd even more rowdy. Although it’s only been weeks since I last wore a frilly apron and a bad attitude, it feels like years.

  A shrill whistle briefly drowns out the noise. I look toward the kitchen window, already knowing what I’ll see. Sure enough, Raul has his arms propped on the counter as he grins at me.

  “Hey, K!” he shouts. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

  I follow his gaze across the diner. Karina turns from serving a table, frowning as she looks around. When she sees me, her eyes widen, and she shoves her empty tray at a passing waitress. She jogs toward me, ignoring the angry coworker in her wake.

  I eagerly accept her hug. “It’s so good to see you,” I say, meaning it so much my eyes sting with unshed tears. “I’m sorry I disappeared on you. I want to explain, I really do, but—”

  “Say no more,” she says gently, releasing me to meet my gaze. “By your face alone, I know you’ve gone through the wringer. You want to eat?”

  I nod. “Yeah. Counter okay?”

  She squeezes my shoulder. “I got you, girl.”

  After a quick stop in the bathroom, I find an empty seat at the counter. There are a few other singles and couples, but the bulk of the diners are larger groups at tables.

  Before Karina can get to me, Raul comes out of the kitchen and grabs the coffee pot. I turn over my mug and he fills it.

  “Thanks, Raul.”

  “Sure thing, chica.” He leans over the counter to give me a kiss on the cheek, but doesn’t pull back. Mouth near my ear, he whispers, “I love you, but you need to leave. People been asking around about you. And I’m not talking about gueros from Publisher’s Clearinghouse, if you catch my drift.”

  My body rigid and cold, I sit frozen as he straightens and wipes the counter to my right. He doesn’t look at me again—not when he finishes, and not when he turns and disappears into the kitchen.

  Karina slips onto the stool beside mine. “Did he tell you?” she murmurs.

  I nod. “What do they look like?”

  “A few times, white guys in suits. Then others. Bad people. Wearing colors.”

  Gang members.

  I jerk to standing. Reaching into my purse, I pull out an envelope holding stacks of hundred-dollar bills. When I’d counted out thirty thousand dollars, I’d been surprised by how unimpressive it looked in real life. Just paper, thin and without much weight. But at least I could do something good with it.

  Giving Karina the envelope, I meet her frightened eyes. “Rent that studio space you always talked about, K,” I whisper fiercely. “You’re an incredible artist. Get your work out there. Half of it’s for Raul. But only on the condition he stops selling drugs.”

  “What?” She glances inside the envelope. “Holy—”

  I hug her hard, cutting off her words. “Thank you for being my friend. I didn’t tell you enough how much you mean to me. Be happy, K.”

  I glance at the kitchen window, where Raul stands watching me. He mouths, Be safe. With a brave smile, I nod. Then I let go of Karina and walk out of Al’s.

  Shit just got real.

  After a quick stop at the bus depot to rent a locker for the rest of the cash, I go straight to Liam’s. Making the detour was an excruciating test of endurance. No matter the color of their skin or style of clothes, every stranger had felt like an enemy.

  By the time I pull into Liam’s driveway, I’m seconds from a full-blown meltdown. With the last of my sanity, I jump out of the car and race to the door.

  It opens as I near it.

  “Liam,” I gasp, throwing myself at the shadowy figure.

  Hard arms come around me, cradling me against a warm chest. I bury my nose in his t-shirt, dragging his scent into my lungs.

  Only it’s not his scent.

  “Ah, lass, sorry to disappoint. But I’m glad to see you.”

  Horror steals my breath. Locks my muscles. Turns my knees to jelly. In the hallway, a light switches on. Over Chris’s shoulder, I see two men walking toward us.

  “Gone,” says one of them, a thin bald man with tattoos snaking up either side of his neck. “Safe’s empty. He’s got his passport.”

  The muscles under my cheek tense. “Maddoc won’t be pleased.”

  The other one, a thickly built blond, smiles when he notices me. “Who do we have here?”

  Chris keeps his arms locked around me, but turns to face the men. Feeling like a rag doll, I’m spun until my back is against his chest.

  As both men get a good look at me, their expressions slacken with shock.

  “This, gentlemen, is the much sought-after Eden Sumner. She not only shares our fair Alexis’s looks but her taste in dangerous men.” Thick fingers wrap around my throat; he squeezes my airway closed. “You don’t happen to know where Liam ran off to, do you, Eden?”

  The pressure releases and I suck in a breath. “No,” I gasp. “If I knew he was gone, do you think I would have come here?”

  My captor chuckles. “Likely not.”

  The skinny tattooed guy looks at me, beady eyes dragging over my chest and hips. He licks his lips and I shudder.

  “What are we going to do with her?”

  “Don’t fecking think it,” snarls Chris. “With Liam on the run, Eden here is our consolation prize. Would you rather wet your dick or keep your head on your neck?”

  Bile burns the back of my throat. Panic washes away my courage. I’m not a fighter. Not strong. Elizabeth and my dad were wrong.

  “Please let me go,” I whisper.

  My flesh crawls as Chris nuzzles the nape of my neck. “Now why on earth would I do that?”

  43

  Sandwiched between Chris and Snake Man in the back seat of a Benz, I can’t curb the tears leaking from my eyes or my periodic full-body shuddering. The former is because the zip tie around my wrists is linked to Chris’s belt, and the latter is due to an existential freak-out.

  I’m ninety percent convinced that I’m being driven to my death.

  When Blondie turns off Mulholland Drive and down a small street to the gate at the end, my tears come harder. The men around me are silent, though Snake Man twitches every time I sob.

  The heavy wooden gate slides open. We drive through and down a short, curving driveway to the house at the bottom.

  As the car pulls to a smooth stop, Chris shifts to face me and grabs my hands. I yank away, inadvertently falling against Snake Man. At the groping touch of his hands on my hip and the side of one breast, I scream and launch myself right into Chris’s arms.

  He glares over my head. “Don’t touch her.”

  “Why not?” whines the sleazeball behind me. “It’s not like she’s actually Alexis. Just the missing sister no one cares about.”

  “You’ve got a death wish, Brian,” mutters Blondie as he turns off the car.

  “Hold still, lass,” murmurs Chris.

  He reaches for my wrists again, but I don’t fight this time. Snake Man—Brian—is still too close, staring at me with an avaricious gleam in his eyes. I don’t trust Chris, not by a long shot, but at this moment he’s the lesser of two evils.

  The knife in Chris’s hand slips through the plastic like butter. I sigh at the immediate relief and rub circulation back into my fingers.

  “Let’s go.”

  Chris opens the door, grabbing my arm and yanking me out of the car. My shoulder burns as he drags me toward the house. The pain—unasked for, unwanted—triggers white-hot rage.

  “Asshole!” I growl at him. “Why fucking bother taking off the zip tie?”

  He glances back with a frown. “That mouth, gah. I don’t know how Liam put up with it. You must have a mag
ic pussy.”

  He hauls me through a smaller, decorative gate toward the mansion’s front doors. I trip on uneven stone, and I’m kept from falling by brute force. My shoulder screams.

  “Jesus, I can walk, okay? Enough with the manhandling!”

  He jerks me to a stop before the front door, then turns stormy eyes on me. “You have one chance—one—to save your ass. Tell Maddoc what he wants to know.”

  “Fuck you.”

  His jaw clenches. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  Fear levels my anger, leaving me cold. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “What do you think?” he snarls back. “How did you think this would go down? With water torture? Besides, it’s me or Brian, and I’m pretty fecking sure you’d prefer me.”

  My stomach jumps into my throat, sending waves of chills down my body. I’m not stupid—he’s talking about raping me. I sway with dizziness, my vision dimming.

  The front door suddenly opens, bathing us in light. Through my haze of nausea and fear, I see a woman step outside, an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. She’s wearing athletic leggings and a pink t-shirt, and her blonde hair sits in a messy bun atop her head.

  I forget to breathe as she looks up from the phone in her hand. Cracked-marble eyes widen on Chris, then swing to me. The cigarette falls as her mouth drops open.

  “Eden?”

  From Chris’s immediate tension, I know this wasn’t the plan. He was hoping Alexis would never know I was here.

  “What are you doing here, lass?” asks Chris, casually releasing my arm.

  Alexis keeps staring at me as she says, “Came for some stuff.” Her gaze leaps to him, narrowing. “You promised you’d call me the second you found her!”

  He shrugs nonchalantly. My anger makes a comeback. How dare he pretend he didn’t just threaten to rape me! Holding the words from my lips, barely, is a rising intuition of my own power in this moment. With Alexis in the mix, there’s a chance I’m no longer my father’s pawn. That I’m now a player in the game.

 

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