by Ashlee Price
“RicTel International. Ever heard of it?”
“Nope.”
“J.A., it’s a shell company in your own portfolio.”
“So what? We’ve got hundreds of identities, little companies all over the place. You can’t expect me to follow every single one.”
“You sent us out in that helicopter,” I blurted out, “then rigged it to crash.”
John’s face went white. “You… you think I tried to murder you?”
I asked him, “Why did you send us out of town in the first place?”
“To get you out from under the microscope for a while, let things settle. Christ, Sheryl, when did you become so… so jaded and devious and paranoid?”
“I learned from the best,” I said to him with a cold, hard stare.
But John just shook his head. “You’ve got me all wrong, you both do. How… how could I sabotage a helicopter, anyway? My imaginary girlfriend in Harlem, I suppose.”
Langdon waved him off. “C’mon, J.A., you know men like us can buy just about anything. You got people.”
“Speaking of that,” I said to John, “who’s your operative?”
John’s eyebrows crept up high on his forehead. “My what?”
“Your man in Australia,” I said.
The adjoining bathroom door opened, drawing my surprised attention. Langdon and I stood and looked over to see Margaret Alister stepping out and into the office. I made the obvious assumption, glaring at John.
“You’ve had her listening in all this time?”
“She stepped into the bathroom just a moment before you burst into the office.”
Margaret said, “That’s right, sweetie. My husband and I had… other business.”
“But you’ve been listening?”
“Might as well. But you two couldn’t have gotten it more wrong.” She smiled and glanced at John. All Langdon and I could do was stand there and hear her explanation. “I was here to tell John that I was leaving him.”
This took me by surprise, and I asked John, “Is that true?” He nodded with a resolved expression, one corner of his mouth tucked into his cheek.
Margaret said, “You bet your little life it is. But it wasn’t just some impulse move.”
Langdon squinted. “What are you on about, ya daffy Sheila?”
“Daffy like a dingo,” Margaret said. “When John here says he didn’t know anything about all this, he’s absolutely right.” John’s attention was fixed on her, his eyes growing wide as his face went white, and I could tell he was hearing all this for the first time. I knew just how he felt.
Margaret strode across the office to the cocktail cart and slowly poured herself a whisky. “I established RicTel. I named it after your little fairy friend after meeting him at one of the shoots.”
“Why?”
Margaret shrugged. “Just my little joke, honey. I had to call it something, right?” She made a slight gesture with one hand in John’s direction. “I knew numbnuts here wouldn’t pick up on it. They say he’s so intelligent, but really he just thinks with his dick like any other man.”
My mind was swimming with this new information. Images returned to my memory of Margaret following us through Central Park and visiting me in my apartment. “That’s why you were following us?”
“Of course, dear. Had to hire a bunch of other guys to pick up the slack, had ‘em following your fag buddy too. They were easy enough to find, and they’re quick to disappear.”
Langdon presumed, “You had to know I was… adequately distracted.”
Margaret raised one eyebrow. “Couldn’t have you going back home and ruining my buyout.”
“So all that stuff about you being jealous,” I said, “‘stay away from my man’… and that meeting to get me fired!”
Margaret chuckled and took a sip of Scotch with a mean little chuckle. “Yeah, you fell right for all that! Well, don’t feel too bad, honey, you’re young yet. You’ll learn.”
Langdon said, “What about the kid? You put him up to that row in Central Park?”
Margaret shook her head. “Nope. Call that a happy accident. Sure bought me a little extra time, though, I can’t lie. Well, I can, actually, and it turns out I’m quite good at it.” She raised her cocktail glass as if in a toast. “Anyway, I’m much obliged.”
John sighed from behind his desk, turning to me and Langdon. “Sheryl, Langdon, I… I’m so sorry about all this.”
“S’not your fault, mate,” Langdon said.
I said, “We shouldn’t have assumed it was you.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“Hey, what’s going on up here?” We turned to the big doors that opened to the hallway and saw a familiar woman stepping into the office. She had long, black hair and an olive complexion. She looked at me and Langdon and John before finally fixing her attention on Margaret. “I saw these two come up, got a little worried.”
I knew her from somewhere, but I just couldn’t place it.
Margaret said, “Gentlemen…” she glared at me and said nothing, instead going on to introduce the woman as, “Beverly Pantucci.”
It was Langdon who said, “You’re that reality show producer, Adrienne something.”
“Devereaux, dear,” Beverly said. “Was that the name I gave you? Honestly, I find it hard to keep track. What’s the difference?”
I said to Margaret, “Wait, this is your operative?”
“Among other things,” Margaret said with a knowing wink and a little kiss blown my way. “I had her go to Australia and make the deal with the AussieGarb board members… enough of them anyway.”
Beverly said, “That’s right.” She took a long index finger and, pinky out, exaggeratedly wiped an imagined droplet from the corner of her mouth. “It was a lot easier than I expected.”
Langdon looked on in stoic silence, his eyes fixed on Beverly. “The ones you couldn’t buy out, you serviced in other ways.”
“Like a pro, big man. Made most of the arrangements in advance, then flew over to, um, seal the deal.” She looked at me, reading the contempt in my stare. “Don’t get all judgmental with me, sweetie. I know what you two have been up to.”
“We’re in love,” Langdon said.
“That’s your problem,” Beverly said with a knowing smile, crossing to the cocktail cart to take sip of Margaret’s drink.
I had to ask, “Why did you introduce yourself to us like that, as a reality show producer?”
Beverly and Margaret glanced at one another and broke out in a mean, girlish giggle. Margaret said, “That was my idea, hon, a little private joke. I just couldn’t resist.” They went on laughing, ridicule heavy in their voices. “I love my little pranks, as you can see.”
“Anyway,” Beverly went on, “it’s too late now. We’ve got all the proxies we need and then some.”
Margaret added, “Combine those with the stocks we’ve got with RicTel, and we’ve got a controlling position in AussieGarb.”
Beverly turned to John, who was fuming behind his desk. “And with Margaret divorcing you, you can kiss goodbye to half your company as well, and we won’t have to spend a single dime.”
“Not to mention the damage it’ll do to your reputation,” Margaret said to John. “When word gets out that I pulled this off behind your back, you’ll be finished in New York, Chicago… even Los Angeles won’t be interested.”
Beverly added, “Check and mate.”
But John slid open the top desk drawer and pulled out a small, nickel-plated semiautomatic handgun. “Game’s not over yet.”
Chapter 21
My heart jumped to see that cold steel glimmering in John’s quivering, sweaty fist. He pointed it at all of us in turn, seeming to go back to Margaret more often than the rest of us.
Langdon said, “Now, J.A., mate, take it easy, yeah?”
“No, Langdon, no, it’s too late for all that. You heard her, she’s got us dead to rights.”
I said, “But things’ll only get wor
se if that gun goes off and somebody gets hurt, John.”
He looked at me, a sad smile on his glistening face. “Sheryl, sweet Sheryl. I… maybe I should have been with you the whole time, I… I knew how you felt about me. I… wanted to do the right thing…”
“I know you did, John, and I always respected you for that.”
Beverly asked Margaret, “So wait… they’re not screwing, your boss and the little blonde?”
Margaret huffed. “Oh, hell no. She’s too uptight, and he couldn’t get it up if he wanted to.”
“Not for you,” John sneered. “But I don’t think that’s going to be a problem for either one of us much longer.”
I could see my second recent dream playing out in terrible true life. The situation was just a bit different, but the similarities were crucial: our deaths by gunshot at the hands of John Alister. I almost felt as if it had been predestined from the moment I decided to leave Eugene, Oregon. I had stepped into the lion’s den; it was only natural that I’d be devoured.
Langdon said to John, “Believe me, J.A., you don’t wanna do this.”
“Of course I don’t! I wanna go home, hug my kid, tell her I love her, take her to the country like she always wanted, away from all this.”
“Then let me help you do that,” Langdon said. “Give me the gun, that’s the first step.”
I added, “He’s right, John, this is no answer. But it’s not too late.”
Margaret’s voice rose, beginning to quiver. “What’re you gonna do, John, kill us all?”
John turned to me and Langdon. “You two understand, don’t you? They’ll ruin us both, Langdon. You have as much to lose as I do, even more! We back each other up, say they attacked us… and they did, Langdon, they did!”
But Langdon just shook his head. “Sorry, mate, it’s no good this way.”
“He’s right, John. You can’t kill them, please!”
John looked around at us all, grim-faced and defeated. “Five people, ten shots in the magazine, one in the chamber.” He chuckled. “That’ll leave one left over.”
Margaret stepped forward. “No, John, no. They’re right, John, Langdon and your little friend here, they don’t deserve this. Even Beverly, I… I can’t stand here and see her have to sacrifice her life. This was my idea, all of it, from the very beginning.”
She stepped closer to John. Beverly and Langdon and I stepped back, our hands still raised near our shoulders, palms flat and out in submission.
“If you have to kill somebody,” Margaret said, “kill me. I’m no good for you anyway, John, I never was. And Bailey… Bailey deserves better than me, John. She deserves somebody more like Sheryl here, whom I know she adores. And I can see why.”
Margaret turned to me, a single tear trickling down her chin. “I’m glad you’ve found happiness, Sheryl. Go and enjoy your life, be happy together.”
Beverly said only, “Mags?”
But Margaret turned back to John. “It’s just you and me now, John. You can’t let me live, and you know… you’ll have to follow me after. You’re not going to want to stick around for what’s going to happen to you.”
“No,” John said, his whispering voice deflating fast.
I said, “John, please listen to me! You don’t have to do this!”
But Margaret had his full attention. “Do the right thing, John, free us both. We’ll be together in heaven.” She broke a little, tearful smile, her voice breaking. “Maybe next time we’ll get it right.”
Margaret put her hands on John’s. The gun was still clenched in his fist. She raised it to the bottom of her chin. “Now kiss me, my love, one… last… time…”
I couldn’t help shout out, “John, no!”
Click.
They stood frozen, face to face, the rest of us immobile with shock. Margaret broke out laughing and stepped away from John. She looked at me and Langdon, then back at John. “You… you should see your faces!”
I said, “What the…?”
Margaret was cramped forward in laughter as she crossed to her purse and reached in to pull out a semiautomatic magazine. “I… I switched out the magazine before our meeting. What did you think that call to your secretary was all about?”
“Just to get me into the hall for two minutes,” John realized. “But… what about the one in the chamber?”
Margaret pulled it out of her pocket and gave it a little kiss. “I’m keeping it as a souvenir.”
Beverly shook her head with a little smile. “You really are a drama queen, Mags.”
“Yeah,” Margaret said, “a rich, single drama queen!”
Beverly said, “Not too single, I hope.” Margaret walked up to her and they shared a long, sexy kiss.
Margaret turned to John and broke out in another round of laughter. “One… last… time…” She went on laughing at John, kicking him when he was down. “By the way, your kid’s a dud, a real loser.”
I said, “You’re a terrible person.”
She just waved me off. “And you’re a little whore!”
“Oye, listen up,” Langdon said, “apologize.”
Margaret stood there, one brow raised. “I beg your pardon?”
“Apologize to my fiancée.”
I said, “Your—? Oh, Langdon.”
But Margaret and Beverly just turned for the door. “See you back in Australia, hot shot… when we’re liquidating your assets.”
“Or trying to beat the rap.”
“Beat the—?” They stopped and turned. Beverly said to Margaret, “What rap, what’s he talking about?”
“Nothing,” she muttered, “he’s bluffing. What’re you, rigged for sound there, Outback?”
“I’m a dignitary,” Langdon said, “for the United Nations an’ all. It’s mostly ceremonial, but it does mean that you may have committed crimes against the financial holdings of the Australian government.” Beverly and Margaret shared a long, slow glance as Langdon went on, “Anyway, it’ll take a while to sort out. I’m sure you won’t mind.”
“Don’t try to intimidate us, Kangaroo Jack. We’ll have all the money we need to lawyer circles around you. Maybe you should start thinking about getting a good public defender.”
Langdon asked, “You’ve got money? What money?”
“AussieGarb,” Margaret said. “It’s ours now, and I’ll burn that motherfucker right to the ground to crush you if I have to. I spun the great John Alister on his heels. What makes you think a rube like you and this over-the-hill cheerleader can do any better?”
“Maybe because I still control AussieGarb,” Langdon said. I turned my attention to him to hear more. I was relieved, I was surprised, but I was also confused. Langdon explained to the room, “When Sheryl here told me about RicTel, I made a few calls back home. Swapped my board of directors out, to the very last man and woman.”
Beverly repeated, “You… you swapped them out?”
“With my janitorial staff, matter of fact.” Trying not to break out in incredulous laughter, I held a hand to my mouth as Langdon went on, “I hope they cleaned up before taking their various… meetings with you when you…” Langdon looked at me. “How did she put it?”
“‘Sealed the deal’, I believe.”
“Right,” Langdon said. “Well, I can tell ya, that’s better treatment than they usually get, by a long shot.”
Margaret and Beverly exchanged a wide-eyed look, mouths dropping open. “Your janitorial staff?”
I enjoyed saying, “And that would make your proxies worthless.”
John added, “It also means that whatever stock you bought through RicTel is far short of a controlling position.”
“And with all this scandal,” Langdon said, “our stock’s through the floor. It’ll be back, I don’t doubt that, but not in time to be any good to you.”
“And that’s a shame,” John said, his voice assuming some shadow of the strength he’d had only an hour before. “Because I’m filing for divorce on the grounds of adultery, fina
ncial abuse, child abuse—”
“I never touched that little brat.”
“I know, never a hug or a kiss or a cuddle. Never heard of psychological abuse? You’ll have plenty of time to read up on it where you’re going.”
“That’s right,” I said. “And now that John’s turned the tables on you, his reputation’ll be fine and Alister Fashions should go exactly as before.”
“Better,” John said, sneering at Margaret. “A lot better.”
Margaret turned her attention to me, her eyes glowing with increasing rage, jaws locking, teeth gritted, cheeks huffing, fingers clawing. “You… little… bitch!”
She jumped at me, too fast for Langdon to stop her. And even in that flash of violence, I could see Beverly hit Langdon hard in the face, see his head snapping to the side. By then Margaret was already on me, reaching to claw out my eyes, pull my hair, wrap her hands around my neck and wring the very life out of me.
But my training came instantly to my aid and my nerves reacted in a split second without my conscious decision. There was no time to think, only to act. I grabbed Margaret’s arm and spun, using her own reckless momentum to help hurl her over my shoulder. She flew fast and easy, legs splayed before she crashed into the cocktail cart, decanters spilling, glass shelves crashing beneath her.
I turned to see Langdon holding Beverly from behind, his hands pinning her forearms in front of her. He said, “Take it easy, you wildcat.”
“I’ll give you wildcat, you bush-league bushman!” Beverly leaned forward a bit, then threw her head back, hoping to smash the back of her skull into Langdon’s beautiful face. But he ducked the move, and she merely thudded harmlessly against his massive shoulder.
“Hey,” I said. Beverly turned to me. “Stay away from my man!” With that and my fast, hard right cross, Beverly went limp in Langdon’s arms. “Jesus,” I muttered, “maybe I really am Batgirl!”
Several uniformed security guards ran in.
“On time as usual,” John said, standing at his position behind his desk.
One security guard drew his gun and held it shakily on Langdon even as he addressed John. “What’s going on here, sir?”