"I don't know a Lexus from a Volkswagen. I just know it was expensive and black. That lady comes in now and then, though. She's always wearing a different wig and get-up."
"Do you know how to contact her?"
"She almost always pays in cash, but the bartender might know her contact info." She puffed on the stub end of her cigarette.
Edward wrinkled his nose. Why did the bartender tell him to talk to Jen? He went back inside. The bartender was gone.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
She lay in her bed, waiting longer and longer until the contractions seemed to stop altogether. The nurse finally showed back up and told her she should go home and only come back if they started getting intense again. Jaspierre gathered her few items and called her driver to bring back her pink Corvette. He offered to drive her home, but she sent him on his way, sliding her belly behind the steering wheel of the sparkling car. She sped home, thinking of Tessa and Ikali and her need to pack and disappear for a bit.
Her mind was focused on the list of things she needed to gather: her duffel bags of cash, her servals, their leashes, and food. Scrap the food; she could just go buy some. Would Dru try to stop her? She wondered if she should wait and sneak out in the middle of the night. But what if the contractions started up again? Better to be in a different town if that was going to happen again.
The pink car whirred up to the gate and it slid open smoothly. She stopped, however, seeing something sitting directly in front of the gate. She got out slowly, glancing back and forth. A slightly wilted, huge bouquet of flowers and a blue Tiffany box sat on the ground. She picked them both up and set them on the passenger seat. Carefully, she looked around. It didn't seem like anyone was nearby. She opened the card:
You + Me and BABY makes 3.
Love, Chance
Oh fucking hell. Chance is fucking alive! She looked around nervously, not bothering to open the box. Grab the cats and get the fuck out.
As she drove up her very long driveway, cautiously flicking her eyes left and right, she didn't see him. She didn't see anyone. Chance was alive. When she was a child, he was the only one who talked to her, who listened to her, who defended her. Why couldn't she just love him back? Why was it so hard? Why couldn't he be the one? He loved her. In fact, he fucking adored her. He wasn't a nice man, but what were the chances she'd ever be with a nice man? What other kind of true love was there, than when you were willing to kill for each other?
But she just didn't want him. Chance was fucking alive. Why hadn't he burned to death? She poured alcohol on top of him before she lit the house. What the hell would she have to do to kill that man? Was she really so incapable? She felt more shaken by his ability to evade death than his ability to completely fucking destroy her. She stopped in front of her house and tried to collect herself.
If Chance could be just a bit different, then maybe he could be family. Maybe he was family; he just offered the kind of twisted love that Mother did. She opened the box to find a finger, still slightly frozen, with a large diamond ring upon it. She didn't feel as shocked as she should have. He was just like Mother, pranking Jasp as a little girl. She almost smiled for a moment. Mother would have fucking loved this proposal. Chance was alive.
Her heart was pounding through her chest. I'll be killed. She took a deep breath and told the panic to stop. Finally, she decided to grab the box and the flowers and bring them up to her room. This baby will never see its first birthday. She would have to burn the finger, of course, not that it was that big of a deal. Chance is alive. But she needed to pack her shit, light the fire, and get her cats. And go to Hawaii or something. This baby won't even make it outside my belly. Where did people run to?
Chance was motherfucking alive. This was going to mess shit up.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Edward had a message waiting for him on his phone, one of Chance's old teachers. She said, mostly that she wished she could help, but hadn't seen him in years. Edward decided to drive down and see what she knew.
"He was always with that little girl, Jaspierre. Don't you remember? She made the news several times. She's the heiress who had no parents. She ran her company very young."
Edward replied, "I have heard of her. What were they like as children?"
"Oh, she was excellent at her school work. You know, I'm the one who called CPS because her mother wouldn't come in for a meeting. I needed to meet with her, and she wouldn't return my phone calls. I figured it out when I realized Jaspierre had brought in several notes in her own handwriting. She hid it the best she could; that girl was sneaky. Anyway, so I guess they emancipated her, which was nuts because she was so young."
"You said she was friends with Chance?" he said, pulling her back on topic.
"No, I'd say he was friends with her. He pulled her hair a lot. I caught her crying in the bathroom more than once. He didn't like it when she talked with anyone. I tried to encourage her to branch out, make new friends. But he wasn't... well, he was very controlling. I always hoped that he would grow out of it, but from what you're saying, he's just turned into a monster."
"Do you think she is his accomplice?"
"I don't know. That little girl didn't seem to be violent. She seemed to be tormented, not a tormentor. But people can change."
"Thank you." Edward flew back to his desk with great speed. Chance's old teacher had given them some interesting information. He quickly looked up this heiress. She was beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful. He felt his heart pound unexpectedly quick as he recognized her. She drove the Lexus. She was the one who visited Chance's house! He grinned enthusiastically as he researched her further.
She had been emancipated at eleven, which did seem absurdly young. Her mother been missing since she was seven. She'd been on her own for most of her life. There were great many articles about how she was an incredibly eligible bachelorette. But she didn't seem to go out much; she ran her pharmaceutical company Kyller and Co. and lived a rather quiet life. There was a short piece on how she owned two serval cats, which was similar to owning a lion, as far as he knew.
Why would she be an accomplice? What was in it for her? She was rich, she was famous, she was beautiful and talented. Was she just fucked up? Or was it something else? Did he have something on her?
He felt a little pang of pain. What kind of system was this, where the rich orphans of the world were left to their own devices? Where they had no people who loved them? She grew up alone, completely alone. Her only friend turned into a serial killer. What must that be like? How could she possibly go through that and end up normal?
Time to pay this heiress a visit.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Hi, Jasp," Dru said. "How was the hospital?"
"This baby is still in my belly. Not coming out yet," she said. She looked nervous, holding the flowers and the box, trying to slip up to her room.
"I wanted to talk to you about Basel; he seems to have gone missing," Dru said.
"I don't know what to tell you. He's gone. I wish I knew where he went," she said. He watched her carry a blue box and a large bouquet to her room. A short while later, she made an extremely large platter of food and carried it to her library. She locked the door behind her. And about fifteen minutes later, she showed back up with an empty platter. Despite the very early hour, she announced she was going off to bed and locked herself in her room. Dru watched her with great interest.
That pile of food, in that short amount of time, seemed unlikely for five people to eat, much less one. Even if they had a second person in their belly. No, she had to drop that food off, dropped it off for someone. Someone like Basel. Dru slipped into the library and looked around.
It seemed like there must be something. She must've been in there doing something, something sneaky. Dru carefully looked around, but he didn't see anything. She was feeding something, or someone. Dru was willing to bet it was Basel. Now all he had to do was find the poor bastard.
He
stared around the room. Nothing suspicious. Books on a bookshelf, a giant marble fireplace with two servals carved on each side. Her desk, large and mahogany, was empty of anything. The floor was long wooden planks and none of them looked like they could be pried up. He stood in the center of the room, slowly surveying, when he finally found a clue. A slightly ashy footprint directly in front of the fireplace. He peered into the fireplace; it looked normal. The ashy remains of a burned corpse still lay in the fireplace.
Russell. If Dru remembered correctly, it was Russell. He stepped back and looked at the outside of the fireplace again. The smooth white marble was cold to his touch. No hidden switches that he could see. He stared at the serval on the left; it was beautiful. He stared at the serval on the right, and the top right ear was slightly smudged. Bingo. His fingertips grasped the ear and it clicked.
The fireplace slid away, revealing dungeon-like stairs, down into the darkness. Well well well, looks like Jaspierre has been holding out on me. Down the steps he went.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Jaspierre rushed upstairs to her room. Once inside, she quickly started packing. She had, years ago, packed about $500,000 in a couple of duffel bags. She grabbed them and set them on her bed, and grabbed two more large duffel bags. In one, she packed lots of clothes, shoes, and all her cat supplies. In the other, she packed blades, wigs, makeup, and any other espionage stuff that she thought she would need. Even a small gun, which she tucked awkwardly in her waistband, although she didn't particularly like them that much.
The total was now four large duffel bags. She wasn't exactly sure how to sneak them to her car, much less sneak them and two large servals to her car. Her fingertips mindlessly spun the little gold ring with the white stone. As soon as she fled, Chance was going to show up. He was such a pain in the ass to plan for. He'd just be mucking around, fucking her shit up.
Flying with servals was virtually impossible. It had to be planned much in advance, to get the special carriers, shots, whatever else it was that they needed. So flying to Hawaii was out of the plan. But driving wasn't safe either. Chance could follow a car; so could anyone. Even with the license plate changer, it wasn't that difficult to note the color of the car or its unusual passengers. Plus, she was going to have a baby and needed a hospital. She didn't actually want to have the thing on the side of the road like some sort of homeless vagrant. It was difficult to decide what to do. If she had friends, she could go hide at their house. But she didn't. If she had family, they could take her in. But she had no family. Tessa and Ikali, as beautiful as they were, could not help her with these kinds of decisions.
She wasn't safe, the baby wasn't safe, and kittens weren't safe. Mother's work would be lost forever, her home left to Dru and his minions. Panic started to set in. She wished she could just fight the bastard, but she couldn't be that reckless with an unborn infant resting in her belly. She felt the strong contraction and doubled over. She tried to take a deep breath. No. Little baby of mine, this is not the time nor the place.
She contemplated if she should take the bags to the car or if she should get the cats out first. In the end, she looked over at the finger and blue Tiffany box. Light the fire and burn; that should be step one. Grab the cats, that was step two. Pack the car, step three.
What the fuck would she do if Dru tried to stop her?
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Basel sat in his cell. The cats were silent. The room was quiet. Four perfectly smooth white walls. He knew the door was across from the dark metal rings. The rings sat in pairs up the wall like a playground ladder. They were hell to climb, though, he found.
He could see the observatory glass at the top of the room. Not a single shadow. Just glass.
His fingertips slid across the smooth wall. They froze and his palm pressed tight to the cold wall. A few seconds later, the bathroom opened up. He cupped water in his hands and drank. He was bored as all hell. He'd been in this cell for what felt like a week. She'd bring down a platter now and then, food for a few days. Then she'd vanish. He tried convincing her. Hell, he was fucking mad to be down here. But he couldn't wring her little throat unless he was out, so he had no choice but to wait. He did pushups, and then sat and ate some more of the food. Four sandwiches. He tried to portion it out and not eat too much, but it seemed like he always ran out long before she came back.
He saw a figure in the window. "Hey, so, lady. I get it; I shouldn't have been messing around down here. Let me out now, okay?" The figure waved but didn't say anything. "Let me out now, got it? I ain't gonna do nuthin."
'Cept strangle her. Or punch her in that baby belly, then strangle her. Fuck that bitch. Fuck her house, her money; fuck her up.
The figure in the window was hard to see. Basel stared at it. It seemed like it might not be her. It looked like it might be a man. But before he could determine if it was true, the figure vanished.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Jaspierre walked downstairs, the flowers and the box with the ring-laden finger in her hands. She had every intention of burning it in the fireplace. However, Dru met her at the bottom of the stairs, near the front door. "Well, my fine lady! How nice of you to join us; we're just about to celebrate!" She was on edge, and he seemed suspiciously sweet.
He stepped back and held out his hand, presenting Arnold. In Arnold's arms was a ruppie; no, not a ruppie. The ruppie. Her mother's creation was finally complete. The long rabbit ears were perky and straight, the limbs of the rabbit were healthy and alive. The dog was still hooked up to an IV of medications, but it tried to wag its little stump of a tail. Arnold grinned and set the creature up on the entry rug. It scooted, using its front paws to drag a little ways forwards towards Jaspierre. Its tiny back feet gathered underneath it and, with a tiny little hop, it flopped forwards. The ruppie was clumsy but functional. A hopping puppy rabbit! Mother would be so proud. One of her most inventive, creative, exciting ideas had come to life.
It was a second child. Her second child had been born, the first one still waiting in her belly. This was it! Mother was here, in spirit, at least. Jaspierre let out a little squeak. Emotional, hot tears rolled down her face before she could will them to stop. Mother would be proud of her! So, so proud of her. Ikali, Tessa, baby, Jaspierre, and this ruppie. It was family; she had a family. The only thing missing was her father. An emotional sob suddenly burst out her throat. Everything was going to be fine.
She threw her arms around Dru, tears still streaming "It's beautiful!" For a moment, all her troubles vanished. The box with the finger and the ring were still in her hand, completely forgotten.
And instead, she asked, "Is it a boy or girl? What do you think you should name it?"
"It's a boy." Dru's eyes flashed deviously. "It's named Russell."
Jaspierre was in such a delightful mood that she didn't grow angry hearing that awful name. "Well, obviously, he is absolutely going to have a new name. I'm not sure what yet. I think I have to get to know him. Do you think he'll be friendly?"
Dru reached down, petted the long pointy rabbit ears, and the ruppie let out a little bark. It sure seemed friendly; it seemed beautiful in its own little way.
Even her daring escape had been completely forgotten. She forgot Chance, the dangerous Dru, and this baby about to burst from her belly. She forgot all the things she should've remembered.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Pierre exited the cab, noticing the pink sports car sitting in front of the large, carved marble steps. He stared at the large servals carved into bushes and the glamorous front door. That same front door, all those years ago he stood in front of with Severina. With the woman he thought would be his wife, but instead became his torturer.
Each step seemed long and heavy and terrifying. He had only gone up two steps when the cab squealed away behind him. At that point, he was desperate to turn around and run. But how would that help him? He came all this way, flew that long, tiresome flight.
Another step, and he was certain that death lurked behind that door. Severina would open that door and kill him dead. If he was lucky. Or she'd take him and tie him down and they'd screw, and then he'd live in her closet. For forever. A locked up, fucking sex doll. She would be his every fantasy and terror combined into one. Maybe she'd take him apart again. Why have I come here? What was wrong with him?
Two steps left. He stepped up one and felt a little faint. He put his hands on his knees and took a slow breath. Jaspierre could be behind that door. That beautiful little girl who let him out, let him live. The little girl that he left with the monster. Why did I leave her?
Last step, then he'd need to knock. This was the worst idea he had ever had in his life. According to the articles he found, Jaspierre had been on her own for many, many years. She was emancipated as little girl. She was alone; he left her alone. He owed her a hello at the very least.
But Severina had no obituary. Where was she? Hopefully, not inside. Not this wretched, torturous house! But she could be! She could be anywhere. His heart was pounding harder and harder. His skin trembled, and sweat started to form on his chest beneath his shirt.
It was time to knock. Pierre's bravery faltered, and his knuckles made the weakest, littlest rattle at the door. Come on; this is for Jaspierre. He knocked harder, trying to ignore his terrified nerves. The door in front of his fingertips suddenly slid open like butter. Pierre let out a gargled noise of fear as he saw Severina standing there, pregnant. A man Pierre knew all too well was holding her in his arms. A thin gray hair fellow held the door, staring.
Pierre's knees gave out and he fell to the ground.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Arnold pulled the unconscious man inside. Dru released Jaspierre from the hug. She turned and saw her father. It was unbelievable. It had to be him! Here lay the man she had been searching for. She had a family. Father and this beautiful baby about to show up. Her kitties and her ruppie. Everything was perfect.
Jaspierre's Descent (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 2) Page 13