“Who wants to know?” I asked. I was still pressed into the wall, clutching the oversized sleeping bag to my chest. It smelled musty and I willed myself not to sneeze, even as my eyes began to water and my nose started to itch.
“It doesn’t matter, I already know it’s you,” he answered, standing. “I recognize you from the news stories about Carmen’s death.” His shadow bounced about as the scenes on my television changed. It was his eyes, however, that captivated me the most. They were large and almond shaped. Though I couldn’t see their color, they appeared empty. His jawline was squared and the lightest of stubble grew along his chin. “I’ve looked into you a bit. A lot.” He laughed to himself and waved his hand about my apartment. “Obviously. It’s amazing what you can learn about someone on the Internet. I might know you better than you know yourself, now.”
“How did you get in?” I stammered, realizing that this had to be Mario.
“Well, if I told you that, then we couldn’t have these…pleasant surprise encounters. Could we?”
“I don’t think you realize the true meaning of ‘pleasant,’ Mario.” I’d somehow found my sarcasm and my courage at the same time. He looked momentarily surprised that I knew who he was but recovered quickly. I pushed myself off the wall and continued to clutch the sleeping bag, as if for protection. My eyes darted from Mario’s face to Carly’s. She seemed okay outside of the obvious. That could change quickly, though. My work with the mentally unstable was all fairly recent, but I knew enough to know that Mario likely had a few tricks up his sleeve to take us out, just in case his first method failed. I had to stay a few steps ahead of him if I hoped to keep Carly, Veronica and myself alive. I desperately wanted to reach for my gun, but a tiny voice in the back of my head told me to save my ace. He didn’t realize that it was there. Plus, he might kill me before I could figure out how to shoot. I needed him distracted before I attempted to fire.
“You sure do seem to be thinking a lot about something, Marian,” Mario said, stepping around the ottoman and moving closer to me. I refused to take a step back but swallowed hard as I struggled to remain calm. “I think it’s very sexy when a woman uses her brain.” He stopped just in front of me and reached out to gently stroke my arm. It took all the strength I had to not rip myself away. I couldn’t anger him. I had to play into his game.
Hugging the sleeping bag to my chest, I smiled coyly. “What else do you find sexy for a woman to do?” I wanted to slap myself for sounding so breathy and flirtatious. I’d never used sex as a weapon in my life and, frankly, I sucked at it. I noticed Carly wrinkle her nose in disgust and, when Mario looked away from me for the briefest of seconds, I widened my eyes and shrugged at her as if to say, ‘I’m trying!’ Mario turned back to me and I regained my composure, smiling in what I hoped was a sensual manner.
Mario reached out, took the sleeping bag from my hands and set it on the floor. I suddenly felt naked and exposed. Thankfully, he hadn’t returned it to the closet, where he would surely see my gun sitting locked and loaded on a shelf. “I think it’s sexy,” he started to say, as he stepped closer towards me. I stepped back and found myself crashing into the wall again. There was nowhere to go. Mario was close and I could smell his breath — a mixture of toothpaste and coconut. He exhaled slowly next to my ear and I shuddered. He mistook it for pleasure and began to whisper huskily in my ear. “When a woman knows what she wants. When she isn’t afraid to just…take it.” His hands were pressed up to the wall on either side of my head.
I closed my eyes and ducked out from underneath of him, my laugh strained as I moved towards Carly. He didn’t try to stop me. Instead, his smile deepened and he turned his head to watch me walk away, his weight still pressed against my wall. “You’re very forward,” I told him as I approached the couch. My gaze flickered over Carly’s ties — there was no way to swiftly end her imprisonment. She’d have to wait until I figured out a plan. I cast her an apologetic glance, then turned to face Mario. He was now leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed. Did he know that Veronica was in the room just behind him? Did Mika know that Mario had snuck in here?
“You know, I really thought you might be different, Marian,” Mario spoke, his voice growing cold.
“Different how?”
“Smarter than the others.” He shrugged and frowned, glancing down to study his shoes. When he looked up, his eyes had gone completely blank. I could almost hear my blood as it began to freeze. “You see, I made myself a little promise,” he continued. “I promised myself that if you could outsmart me, I would let you live. I had high hopes for you. You were putting the pieces together. But then you have to go screw it up by letting your guard down. That’s how I got in, Marian. You were stupid.”
I sucked in a breath and felt myself stand a little straighter. Were I a bird, my feathers would have begun fluffing in irritation. “Excuse me?” I whispered.
“I suppose you weren’t as stupid as your neighbor, though.”
“Mr. Hanley?” My voice rose in pitch as I struggled to breath. “What did you do to him?”
Mario shrugged and I felt myself paling in fear. “But you,” he chided, wagging his finger at me as he began walking towards me again, a mad smile playing at his lips. “You should know by now that you need to add a few more locks to your door, you know? First with that Barry business. And then that whole crazy kidnapping with your niece. The universe seems to have it out for you, Miss Moyer.”
I shrugged. He had a point. He clearly HAD done quite a bit of Internet research. I wondered how much he knew about Addison, Rory and the others after catching their names on the news. Probably not as much. I always drew in the weirdos.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a sliver of light peeking in from the hallway. Mario hadn’t shut my front door entirely. He’d clearly snuck in through Hanley’s windows, knowing that, under the circumstances, someone would clear my apartment before they let me come in.
My mind began to wander. Perhaps someone passing by in the hallway would wonder if everything was okay and would come in to check on us. My door was slightly ajar after all. I gave myself a swift mental slap. I didn’t know any of my neighbors and it was past two in the morning. No one would be coming to check on us. “So you crawled in through Mr. Hanley’s and then broke into my apartment?”
“Broke in?” he laughed a loud, short bark. “A Boy Scout could have opened your door with a bobby pin. No, no, no, Marian- I didn’t break in. Breaking in wouldn’t be nearly as easy as what I did. Your door is still completely intact.” He was just a foot or so away now. Close enough that he could grab me if he wanted to. I fought the urge to jump back. Carly was vulnerable and I wanted to stay between them. Mario seemed to think that my staying put meant something and he reached out to stroke my cheek. “So, you see, Marian, you let your guard down. See? Stupid.”
I swallowed hard. Somehow, I needed to signal Mika, James and Rory that things were amiss. “It’s uh- it’s pretty dark in here,” I said as huskily as I could manage, reaching out to tentatively stroke Mario’s arm and hopefully his ego. “I’d love to really be able to see you — the man that outsmarted me. It’s pretty rare that anyone does that.” Behind the duct tape, Carly scoffed and I turned to shoot her a look. Turning back to Mario, I laughed and gave his bicep a casual squeeze.
He smiled at me, his empty eyes taking in my mouth and my collarbone. Slowly, he turned and began walking towards the front door, where he felt around for a light panel before flipping the switch. My apartment once again became flooded with light. Surely, if they were watching, someone downstairs would give us a call to see if everything was okay. And, when we didn’t answer, someone would come upstairs to check on us. They had to. Mario stood near the doorway for several moments, saying nothing. His eyes studied my own before dropping to the rest of my body. I tried not to tense under his gaze but, instead, use the extra time to formulate a plan. I felt my palms begin to sweat as they often do when I become nervous. As though se
nsing my unease, Mario started to move towards me once again.
“Hey,” Veronica whined from the back room. “What’s with the light? Somebody close my door.”
Mario’s head swung to face the bedroom, a crazed smile playing across his lips. It was almost as though he had completely forgotten that Carly and I were there. One step. Two steps. He steamrolled towards the bedroom. As he did so, he began to search the waistband of his jeans. Whatever weapon he was trying to retrieve, I couldn’t let him get to it. I began to run. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. Just past the linen closet, Mario suddenly seemed to remember that I was there. He stopped at the threshold of the bedroom, his hand still searching the back of his pants. Now I didn’t have a choice. I’d have to fire. If only I could get to that damn gun.
I raced forward with speed I didn’t know I possessed. Mario began to draw something out of his jeans and I knew I wouldn’t have enough time to retrieve the gun. Instead, I dove for his legs at an angle that would make any football coach proud. It was then that I saw Mario’s gun, a small shiny pistol, which he hadn’t quite raised to aim. I was already in the air; I couldn’t stop now. Plowing into his legs, I knocked him backwards into my bedroom. We both grunted as we hit the ground, and his gun skipped out of his hand and across the carpet.
Veronica screamed and leapt out of the bed, covering her naked body with the lime green sheets. I quickly recovered from my fall and began to scramble towards Mario’s gun, but he grabbed my ankle, dragged me backwards and flipped me onto my back. Veronica had moved behind us, near the door, still in shock, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Shut up!” I cried, as Mario held me down by my wrists and struggled to reach the gun. He was really strong. I wriggled and pushed but couldn’t get him to free my arms. Veronica stopped screaming and had pressed her shaking body against the wall. She began to feel her way out of the bedroom, clutching the blankets to her chest with her free hand and watched as Mario and I both struggled to gain control. Note to self: Veronica was not someone I wanted around in a clutch situation. Perhaps she’d get her wits about her enough to free Carly.
Mario couldn’t reach the gun as long as he was struggling to hold me down. He shifted his focus to look me straight in the eye. The color of his irises, I realized, was black as night. No wonder they looked empty. I saw a flash of something dangerous. Then, stealthy as a lion, he let go of my wrists and pushed himself forward. Reactively, I jerked my knee, which skimmed his groin. It wasn’t an exact hit but it was enough. Mario howled in pain as he clutched his nether regions. I scrambled out from beneath him and went for the gun, but he grasped it first, whimpering as he tried to work his shaking hand.
“Marian!” I heard someone scream behind me. Turning, I saw Veronica, buck naked, standing in the doorway and clutching my gun. She met my eyes and tossed me the weapon, which I fiddled with briefly before actually catching it. Standing next to her was James, holding a pistol, his mouth an “O” of surprise. Flipping the safety, I turned, aimed-
Mario was no longer shaking. His gaze was cold and determined. That amazingly square jawline was set. His gun was pointed directly at my heart.
Someone fired.
My first conscious thought after I heard the shot ring out was, “there’s just so much blood.” Veronica was once again screaming behind me. I fell to my knees, dropped my gun, and clutched at my chest as I struggled to breathe.
“Marian,” I heard someone cry out, but their voice sounded very far away. “I’ve got you, baby. You’re okay. Look at me. Marian, look at me.” Mika was squatting in front of me, smoothing the hair out of my eyes. “Deep breath, Sugar,” he was saying, as he began to kiss my forehead, my cheeks, my ears and my hands.
“It hurts,” I managed to squeak.
“It’s just a panic attack, baby. Breathe. Listen to me. Put your hands on my chest and feel to me breathe. Try to follow me.” I placed my hands over his heart and struggled to concentrate on his breaths. They were long and calming. Eventually, I felt my own lungs unclench, allowing beautiful oxygen to flow through them. I became very aware of the sweat that had broken out across my entire body and started to shake, my teeth chattering.
“She’s in shock,” Mika cried, the panic in his voice strong.
“No,” I insisted, grabbing his shirt. “No, I’m just cold.”
“Here,” someone said. I turned and saw Carly, holding one of the blankets I’d used to cover her up earlier. She smiled as she wrapped it around my shoulders.
“Am I shot?” I asked weakly. I honestly wasn’t sure.
“No,” Mika assured me, “you’re safe.”
“Did I-” I began to ask, but he cut me off with a kiss.
As he pulled away, he shook his head. “James had the shot,” he told me gently. “I’m sure you did too, but-”
I put my fingers over his mouth and gave him a weak smile. “It’s okay,” I told him. “Thank you.”
I looked over Mika’s shoulder and saw Mario, bleeding profusely from his chest, his face frozen in a surprised but angry scowl. Shuddering, I ducked away.
“Jesus, Moyer,” James boomed behind me. I wasn’t sure if I could stand, but I balanced myself against Mika and tried. My knees were weak. Mika propped me up by my waist once I stood, as James took two swift steps forward and pulled me into his arms. “That was one hell of a wrestling match,” he muttered into my ear. “And how’d you bend your leg like that to clock him in the balls?”
I smiled and pulled away. “Yoga.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, chucking me under the chin.
“Thanks to you,” I asserted, as Mika stood and kissed me atop the head. “What happened exactly?”
“Yes, what happened?” Veronica walked into the room, once again wrapped tightly in the lime green sheet. Her hair spilled casually around her beautiful, smooth shoulders, but her face was pale and slick with sweat.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. “Oh my God!” I cried, grabbing Mika’s arm. “Mr. Hanley!”
“He’s safe,” Mika assured me.
“We’re coming in!” cried a deep voice from the hallway.
“We’re in the bedroom,” James called over his shoulder.
Within seconds, my bedroom and, I imagined, my entire apartment, was flooded with cops.
“A little late,” I joked as Ricardo peeked around the corner.
“Coming through, coming through! Hot tea- hot, hot, hot!” Rory danced around Ricardo and pressed a steaming mug into Veronica’s hands, shook out the hand that had been holding the mug, turned to me, and did the same.
“Someone is trying to kill me and you make tea?” I raised an eyebrow as I blew away some of the steam.
“It was after I already knew you were safe and Carly had been untied,” he promised. “Who am I to get in the way of your beau? Your stove works quite quickly. Anyone else?”
“I’ll have some,” Carly said, raising her hand.
“Be right back,” Rory assured her.
I shook my head and smiled. “So,” I asked, turning back to Mika, “what exactly happened?”
“We thought that the three of you were asleep,” James said. “Mika and I were resting and Rory was on watch when, suddenly, he’s shaking us awake, saying the light in your apartment was just flipped back on.”
I smiled and slurped at my tea. One of the cops that had recently come into the room had covered Mario’s body with the green fitted sheet from my bed. Mika began to walk me out into the living room as James, Veronica and Carly followed. Once we reached the couch, I sat down hard, sloshing my tea onto my shirt. Though it burned, I welcomed the sensation, happy to still be alive. “Go on,” I told James.
“We thought that maybe you were just getting situated for bed, but decided to come up and check on you, seeing as how Rory said you’d flipped everything off once. There were still a few media people downstairs but not so many that we couldn’t get through, so we took the traditional route. Just off the elevator, we heard
Veronica screaming bloody murder. Your door was slightly open. Doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. When we opened the door, we saw Carly. I told Mika to take care of her. If something had happened to you, I didn’t want him to-” he stopped and swallowed, glancing down at the floor. “Anyway, I got to your bedroom just as Veronica was throwing you your gun. Mine was already drawn. I had a clean shot, and took it.”
“I went and checked on Hanley,” Carly assured me. “Right after I was untied. Mario had knocked him out but, other than a bump on the head, he seems okay. We’re going to take him to the hospital for some scans just to make sure.”
“I’ll pay for them,” I blurted out. “Let the hospital know that I’ll cover all of his medical costs.”
“I don’t need your money,” Hanley cried, pushing his way through my front door, his fist in the air. A gaggle of neighbors dressed in their nightclothes gathered around, peering inside my apartment at the flurry of activity. “I’m perfectly capable of paying for MRIs, CIAs and anything else the hospital wants to throw at me.”
I smiled. “Hey, Mr. Hanley.”
“Don’t you ‘hey’ me, young lady,” he grumbled. “I could have been killed because of you.”
“I’m really sorry about that,” I told him sincerely.
“Come on, Mr. Hanley,” Carly said, taking the old man by the shoulders and guiding him back towards the hallway. “Let’s get you loaded up in an ambulance, shall we?”
I sat quietly on the couch and sipped at my tea for a few moments. Rory came over to join me, placing a hand on my knee in companionable silence. James and Mika were speaking with various police dressed in uniform. Several cops, some that I recognized and others that I didn’t, were milling through my apartment, their hands covered in dainty latex gloves. I watched an officer leave my bedroom, clutching Mario’s small pistol in his hand. Time seemed to slow down for a moment, as I watched him walk towards the kitchen, which had been set up as a home base of sorts. “I’m so tired,” I finally managed to say to Rory. He took my mug of tea and placed it gently on the floor. “I just need to lay down.”
Alllison Janda - Marian Moyer 03 - Scandal, Temptation & a Taste of Flan Page 18