The Bee Keeper

by Vincent, Tracy D

  That cold bastard comes back to my face, his nose almost touching mine. He stares at me just a moment, watching me gasp for breath, writhing in agony. “Remember that little bungalow that we touched on earlier? I think it’s time to revisit that subject, don’t you?”

  “The fuck is your deal, man? Why do you assume I know anything more than you do? Shit, you told me things that Marshal Bennett didn’t tell me.”

  He brings the mallet down on my hand, definitely breaking a few bones in it, still never having moved. I scream silently, the breath leaving my body. I start seeing spots before being able to drag a miniscule breath into my lungs.

  “That’s because Bennett doesn’t trust you, Mr. Champlain. You left something behind. Something that is only yours. So, again, why don’t we discuss that little bungalow.”

  Fuck. The necklace.

  I have to handle the Dani situation before heading to the store. The senator will be calling before long to verify that it’s been done, and this crap with Geoff won’t be over for a long time. Fuck those two shitstains. I can’t wait until I’m done with both of them.

  I turn my car down 182nd Avenue and park a couple of blocks up from the bungalow. I walk leisurely toward her house and head around to the back door. The lights are on, but then it still is relatively early in the evening, so I figure she will be awake. Unfortunately, this isn’t uncommon either. Me, stopping by her back door.

  I knock on the door and wait a few moments. I hear her shuffling steps and the curtain pull back. She opens the door when she sees it’s me. “Hey, Ed. I didn’t expect to see you tonight. C’mon in.”

  I take note that her eyes are puffy and her nose red. “Hey, Dani. How are you?”

  “Like shit. Are you here to pick up work files? Because if you are, I haven’t gathered them up yet. It won’t take me a minute, though.” She turns and walks through her kitchen into her living room with me following her.

  “Is it okay if I make myself a drink?” I ask, stopping at her fridge and peering inside.

  “Sure, there’s iced tea in there and some water.”

  “Thanks. Do you want me to bring you something?”

  “Yeah, that would be wonderful. Tea would be great. I’ll just start gathering this crap for you.”

  I grab a couple of glasses, pull out the tea, and pour us each a glass. I’ve been here enough times to know that Dani takes sleeping meds sometimes and she keeps all her medicines in the kitchen instead of the bathroom. I crush a few pills, dump them into her tea, and stir them around.

  I walk through the living room and into her office where she sits at her desk going through files, putting some into a box and refiling some others. I hand her the glass and sit in the other chair and sip my own. I hate iced tea. It’s blasphemous. She chugs hers in one large gulp. Good, makes my job easier.

  She gets back to her files and I study her face. She’s pretty in that “girl next door” way. Her hair is golden and her eyes are blue. Really, her kind is a dime a dozen. I’m not sure what the senator sees in her, but he must have seen something.

  “I’m really sorry to hear that you’re being let go, Dani.”

  “It’s because I’m pregnant with his baby, but then you know that already. You always know everything about him.”

  “That’s not true. I didn’t know you were pregnant.” I lie because she has to believe that this visit is strictly for the files.

  “Well, now you know. I guess you’re going to slap a gag order on me too so I can’t go public with this? Well, I won’t sign it. To sign that is to deprive my child of his or her father and the privileges that come with it.”

  And this is why I’m here. Why didn’t she just take the payout and end this mess? I just don’t see how she could foresee this going any other way. We sit there for another fifteen or so minutes. I glance at my watch while she stuffs files into her box. This shit is taking too long. She gets up and stretches her legs and yawns. Fucking about time.

  “I’m going to the bathroom, be right back.”

  “’Kay.”

  She leaves the room and I silently move toward the bathroom door. As soon as she opens it, I put her in a rear naked choke hold. I seated it perfectly, too. Her chin over the bend of my elbow, my bicep squeezing one side of her neck while my forearm is squeezing the other. I use my other hand to grip my wrist and pull it closer to me applying more pressure to her throat. Her hands grab my arm, clawing at the fabric of my jacket. Stupid cunt. I’m not killing her, just putting her to sleep. Hopefully, this will knock her out long enough for the medicine to kick in.

  I hold the choke longer than I probably should have, but I want to make sure she’s completely out. Once she stays limp in my arms, I hoist her up and over my shoulder, then maneuver her into the bedroom and toss her onto the bed. I tie her down with her sheets so she can’t get up even if she wants to. Satisfied with that, I make my way to her shed and grab her gas can for her lawnmower and begin dousing the place, leading a trail to her bedroom and under her bed. I walk back out of her backdoor, light a match, and drop it down. Locking the door, I walk into the connecting backyard and onto the next street over.

  I make it back to my car and head to the store for the supplies.

  “Do you always clean up after the senator like that?”

  “Yeah. I do the dirty work that he doesn’t want anyone else to do. You really did a number on my ribs, man. It’s so fucking hard to breathe.” I wheeze out to him. He’s sitting in the chair by the bed. He hasn’t broken anything in a while. I have a feeling he won’t need to break much more.

  “So after that, you gathered your supplies and went back to Ed to help him dispose of Mr. James’ body?”

  “Yes. When I got there Geoff had done a hack job of trying to cut off tattoos and scars and attempted to cut off his face, but tossed his cookies.”

  “Then what happened?”

  Why do I get to be the one chopping this fucker up? Why didn’t I just hand this shit over to Geoff and tell him to figure this shit out? I’ve had a bad day, I just want to get something to eat and sleep. Instead, here I am lopping off body parts and handing them over to that fucktard so he can bag it up.

  It takes us around an hour. It helps that Geoff had already cut most of P.A.’s tattoos off before I showed up.

  “You realize the body has to go in your car.”

  “The fuck you say! That car is brand new. That car cost more than either of us hope to make in the next five years. There’s no way in hell I’m sticking a dead guy in my trunk!”

  “You have no choice. If I put it in my car and get caught with it, it’s straight to the Bee Keeper for me. If you get caught, the senator will pull some strings for you.”

  He just gives me this disbelieving look and I cross my arms and mirror his expression. “Look, Geoff, you know I’m right. Your dad will do it if for no other reason than to keep the scandal away from the precious Wright name.”

  “You do have a point.”

  “Right, so let’s figure out how we’re going to dispose of the body, Ok?”

  We dump the body in Geoff’s trunk, and we sit and smoke a joint. I don’t partake often, but I’ve earned it today. We discuss where to drop the body. Geoff really doesn’t use his noodle because he suggests the club district. I suggest Lantaff because of the people he’d blackmail down there—because of that, the trail shouldn’t ever lead to us.

  Geoff gets nosy about Maya and her dad, trying to get into Timo’s business. And frankly, I don’t care anymore and I tell him some of it. Maybe it’s the joint, maybe it’s the shitty day I’m having, but I just don’t care anymore.

  We finish smoking and walk to our respective cars when Geoff runs to me with the briefcase in his hand. “You need to keep this. Kind of like the dead man in my trunk, you’d get in less trouble if you’re caught with it than I would. I’ll just get it from you later. Meet up with you at P3.”

  He jogs back to his car, starts it up, and takes off down the road.
I follow soon after. I reach up to my neck to play with my necklace that my mom gave me.

  It is fucking gone.

  The heirloom necklace that she gave me, the one that belonged to every male in her family for a hundred plus years, is gone. And there’s only one place I could have lost it. Dani’s house.

  I’m so fucked.

  Instead of heading home, I head straight to the bungalow and see the fire department there already doing their job. I walk up as close as the barricade and ask the nearest fireman what happened.

  “I’m not really sure, we got the call about thirty or so minutes ago that the structure was on fire and that the lady must still be inside because her car was in the drive.”

  “Oh my gosh! That’s my co-worker Dani McDermitt’s house. Are you sure she’s still in there? I have to call the senator.” I pull out my phone and place the call.

  “What do you want, Ed?”

  “Senator, Danielle McDermitt’s house is on fire. The fireman said that when the call came through that they suspected she was still in there because her car was here.”

  “That’s terrible. Do they know for certain that she’s in there, or is it suspected? Do they need my help or any of my resources?” He feigns concern like a pro.

  “I’ll ask. Hey!” I yell at the fireman. “Dani and I work for the senator, and I have him on the phone, he wants to know if you guys need any help that he can give.”

  “You work for the senator? Hold on, let me ask the chief.”

  Another man strides toward me after only a moment with the fireman. He pulls his mask off his face as he gets closer.

  “Hello, Webber tells me that you both work for the senator?” he asks with no preamble.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll need you to answer a few questions about the tenant, Ms. McDermitt, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure.”

  “Did she have any enemies? Did she smoke?”

  “No, not that I know of, she’s always been really kind to me and everyone I’ve seen her talk to at the office. I never saw her much outside of it, though. And I’ve never seen her smoke. Why? What’s going on?” I ask, my confusion genuine because this guy seems like he already knows it is arson.

  “Because this is arson, son. I’ve been doing this for almost thirty years. After a while, you start to just know how things work. Regardless, if someone wanted her dead, they did a damned good job of it.”

  “Wow. Just like that? Are you sure it was arson?”

  “Yes, I’m 100% positive.”

  “Wow.”

  “I’ll need a statement from you and from your boss by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I stand around a little while longer before I head home. I need to drop off my car and the briefcase and then take transit to club district. We need to dump off this body and I can call this whole clusterfuck of a day done. I’m so close to saying “To hell with these people!” and moving elsewhere.

  I hop off the bus and start down Church Hill Avenue toward P3, but Geoff’s car isn’t out front where he requires that it stays. Strangely enough, his car is safer on the street than in the nearby parking garages. “That fucker is going to get us all killed.”

  I run into P3 and straight to the bar. “Have you seen my friend?” We’re in there so often that the bar staff knows our names.

  “Oh hey, Ed, yeah, your friend is at the other side of the bar. Hey, man, are you okay? You’re looking kind of rough. Here, lemme…”

  I rush off before he can finish his statement. Just as he said, Geoff is sitting at the end of the bar throwing back a drink and fending off the advances of a woman for once in his life. About time the fucker takes something seriously. And shit is about to get even worse for him if he doesn’t know where his car is.

  “Ed…”

  “Where’s your fucking car, Geoff?” It takes everything I have to remain calm and I know I’m failing, but dammit I’m trying.

  “Out front…” he says, as though he were talking to a two-year-old.

  “No, it fucking isn’t ‘out front!’” I am practically shouting at him.

  “That’s where I parked it, Ed. Are you sure you didn’t miss it?”

  “Who the fuck could miss your car, Geoff? How many people do you know drive a brand freaking new sports car that is manufactured in limited quantities? Isn’t your car fucking numbered, something like 212 of 5000?”

  A panicked look crosses Geoff’s face like I’ve never seen before and he’s suddenly pushing past me and everyone else that is between him and the door. He rushes past the doorman and out onto the walkway where he skids to a stop. That panicked look morphs into something much worse and less describable.

  I start pacing and ask a passerby for a cigarette. After he lights it for me, I inhale long and deep, feeling the familiar burn. I’m all out of ideas. My brain is fried right now. The body is gone. My necklace is gone. There are two dead people that I’ve been involved with in one night. And both are related to these two fucking imbecile Wright men. “What the fuck are you going to do now, Geoff?”

  “We have to report it stolen, Ed. If we report it stolen then if they find the dead body it gets associated with the thief, not us. They’ll have had our statement before they find it. Besides, who the fuck calls in a stolen car if there’s a known dead guy in it?”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to call Chief Jackson and then my father.” He pulls out his phone and dials a number.

  After talking with the police chief for a brief time and explaining where we were and what had happened, he hangs up and calls his father. By the look on his face, this conversation doesn’t go as well. The senator really hasn’t ever been kind to Geoffrey, and it’s apparent that this time is no different.

  “Well, that went as well as could be expected.”

  “What’s the game plan, Geoff?”

  “Wait on the police, give our statements, and then head home. I’m to call the car service. I’ll have them drop you off, Ed. Thanks for everything tonight, man. You’re truly one of the best friends a guy could have.”

  “No problem, you’d do the same for me.”

  “Honestly, I probably wouldn’t, and that makes me quite a shitty person, and makes me an even shittier friend.”

  Pain erupts from my arm. The fucker just shattered my forearm. Breath rushes out of me. “The fuck?!”

  “We all know that Geoff never said that. He’s one of the most narcissistic individuals created.”

  “Well, he really did say something similar.”

  “Not the part about being a shitty person. But I’m done with this. We know that the body was found in the car and that you have the briefcase. Let’s talk about the briefcase. Where is it now?”

  The pain is so bad all over, it burns to breathe. Each breath is loud and wheezy and brings a new stabbing pain, and I struggle to breathe through. If I take a deep enough breath, I cough, and I can see the blood spatter from my coughing fits. I’m so freaking tired of this. I’m tired of giving a shit when no one else does.

  “Maya has it. After that night, I gave it back to her for safekeeping. But because of the clusterfuck of the whole ordeal, I thought it prudent to tell Timo about it but explained that it came across my desk. Because it obviously came from Timo’s side, I thought it best to give it to them rather than pass it on to the senator to keep relations healthy. Of course, Timo knew nothing about it. I told him that I gave it to Maya since he was out on business when we discovered it and she ended up leaving for a couple of weeks after I gave it to her.”

  “So now the briefcase is back with Maya. Does she know how terribly that night went?”

  “She knows about P.A. being dead, but not how. Everything else, no, she doesn’t know.” My chest is burning and breathing is getting more and more shallow.

  “Thank you, Mr. Champlain, for helping me find out the events of that night.”

  “That doesn’
t help me, does it?” I know the answer to this question, but I have to ask it anyway.

  “No, it doesn’t.” He pulls out a large needle and presses it deep into my chest. “I punctured your aorta. Your chest cavity will fill with blood; eventually, it’ll constrict your lungs and heart, stopping both.”

  “You’re a bastard. You got your information, if you’re going to kill me the least you can do is make the end quick and painless.”

  “Oh, like you did Ms. McDermitt?”

  That asshole turns and walks out of the room and I can’t gather enough air to scream after him.

  “That fucking asshole!”

  I barely say this out loud. I never yell. A lady never yells. My mother would be very upset if she heard me yelling. At least that is what my papa would tell me. I wouldn’t know, she died before I had a chance to get to know her.

  I look around my room to see everything pulled out and dumped all over the place. This isn’t like me either. When Eddie gave me the briefcase to hold on to, I stuck it in the private compartment in the back of my closet. I’m certain I locked it before I left for New Leonsburg a week ago. Now that he’s asked for it back, I can’t find it.

  “Motherfucker!”

  I gather the clothes nearest to me and start placing them back on the hangers and putting them back into my “princess closet,” as Eddie loves to call it. I can’t help it if it is the size of a small boutique and filled to the brim. I have so many clothes and shoes and purses that I commandeered a small room near mine just for my handbags.

  “Maybe I put the briefcase somewhere else in here.”

  I methodically go through every inch of my room, putting everything back where it belongs, making sure everything is meticulous. I move on to the room with my handbags, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the case is in there. But I know it isn’t. I remember exactly what I did with it, and now it’s gone. There is only one other person who could have possibly gotten that and there is no way in hell I’ll be able to get it from him.

  I smooth my hand over my hair to make sure that none of it has escaped and made me look less than perfect. My mother never looked frazzled or anything less than perfect in all the pictures I’ve seen of her. This is even including the candid photos taken by the pool or at the supper table.