Billionaire Devils Club-Palm Beach

by Ashley Woods

  for their quick disposal, and a token of appreciation to the

  Angel of Darkness…

  21 DEPARTURE

  The next afternoon, Karl was packing for his return to London that evening. His two partners carried his suitcases outside and left them by the front door.

  Karl walked up to the front, “Gentlemen, I enjoyed our evening. Those new scripts did provide for a very convincing ceremony.”

  Hart was exuberant, “We had more than our usual number of guests last night to send to the tunnel. It is always so convenient how the high tide arrives just before dawn. I am sure the sharks enjoyed a tasty nip or two, as they passed through to the vortex. But, those veils are becoming quite an environmental nuisance.”

  Hicks laughed, “At some point, we might have to consider edible ones that do not leave a trace. We no longer have Whitcomb to pick them up for us on the beach. It was one of his favorite club duties.”

  Hart commented, “I am very surprised that Fiore felt that he was ready to present that beautiful, but unacceptable woman he brought with him. Such a pity, that she also had to exit early through the portal with the other sacrificial swill. Fiore never had the opportunity to participate in the ritual.

  He added sarcastically, “That’s where the real fun starts.”

  Karl answered, “In defense of our inductee, Anthony is brand new, and it truly does take considerable time to successfully line up the eternal choices for the Black Veil intendeds.”

  The two looked at Karl in shock. They were surprised to hear such terms of endearment for his former nemesis.

  Karl gave them a comical look, “Lucky for Mr. Fiore, that he did not bring his fiancée, or I would have snatched her right back, as I still plan to do. She will always remain by my side as my queen, and I will never subject her to such proceedings again.”

  He smiled hopefully, “I am giving Miss Kenworth just a little more time to make up her own mind and admit that she wants me, before I rightfully take possession. As for Anthony’s future, I am keeping that my secret.”

  “Well, you will always have us.” Hicks reminded him.

  Karl reflected, “Ahh, but we no longer have Harris. It was worse than I thought! I have now learned that he personally wired the building with explosive devices last week, in case their hostage plan fell through.” His partners looked at him in surprise.

  Karl looked uncomfortable and changed the subject.

  “Those chaps were a bit sloppy with their dungeon guests. Mr. Hicks, did you take care of that cleaning crew that we sent down to the chamber this morning to tidy up?”

  “Yes, and no one will be hearing from them again either.”

  Hart laughed loudly, “As usual, the members performed the closing rites perfectly! When will they realize they are just a bunch of common serial killers who will be never be rewarded?”

  Karl remarked, “Serial killers? Of course, that excludes you two. I know that your actions were always for the sake of the operation. Right?” The men blushed and looked to the ground.

  Karl rubbed his hands, “Of course, that process is not something that I would relish. But, I rather think the Veil 33 enjoy it. That is why, through the decades, they have always been so eager to recruit more guests.

  Karl’s voice grew louder, “May they all burn in the end for their heinous ways.”

  He smiled straight at Hart, “I have often wondered Hart, if you were born of the jackals, since you know exactly how and where I originally found you.” Hart grinned.

  He began shaking his comrades’ hands.

  “I now pass the scepter to you gentlemen to carry on with this tradition. My plans to return to my former life and prepare for my next conquest are long over-due. I always feel somewhat powerless in my present role. Those billionaires can be very demanding.”

  Karl stepped down to the driveway,

  “I am requesting that you accompany me to London today. I need your assistance for several months, and I am sure you will enjoy being back home. Then, I am considering taking you somewhere much warmer for our vacation.”

  The men gave a cheer and began pulling his suitcases off the stoop of the Guest House.

  Karl laughed, “Too bad, that you will miss the big surprise that I have planned in the coming months at the Whitestone for the Black Veil. It is my parting gift to them, and it is something I have always wanted to do…”

  As he was adjusting the handle on his carry-on bag, Karl looked up to see a West Palm Beach squad car, and an unmarked vehicle pulling into the driveway. His associates scurried into the house and hid in the basement.

  The patrol car remained stationary, as two men emerged from the other car. They were dressed in tan polyester-blend suits. Karl remained stone-faced, “Good afternoon gentlemen. Is there something I can help you with?”

  The men cautiously walked up to him. The taller one sported a buzz cut of dark red hair and seemed to be the senior partner. He sarcastically said, “Oh, I think you know what we are here for.”

  Karl chuckled, “Sorry, but tea time has passed, and I must be going.”

  He began to pick up a suitcase, as the man announced, “My name is Detective Morton. We need to ask you some questions, and you need to come with us downtown to the station. We are not talking here.”

  Karl was still not miffed, “That will not be possible, my driver is set to arrive now and I must go, or I will miss my flight. Seriously, what is the nature of your business?”

  Karl did not wait for an answer and turned to walk toward the house. The other “suit” went back to the patrol car and reached out his arm. The officer inside looked inconvenienced and handed him the radio transmitter.

  A few minutes later, two more marked cars pulled up. They jumped from their vehicles with guns drawn, and Karl no longer felt that the situation was amusing. As he stood on the front step, he found himself surrounded by officers.

  Detective Morton said, “Now, once again, I am asking you to merely come with us back over to West Palm.”

  Karl became defiant, “Not until you tell me exactly what you plan to ask me.”

  The detective carefully guarded his words, “We feel that you are a “Person of Interest” involving a certain young lady from across the bridge. It has been alleged, that she was last seen talking to you the other night. You weren’t exactly in a part of town that would be considered very “Palm Beachy”. One of our regular informants that shares the same alley with her, wrote down your car’s license plate number.”

  Karl indignantly answered, “Well, then I was probably lost and just asking her directions. Why are you bothering me with this?”

  The detective began to look angry, “If you listen to the news, there has been quite a few of her “friends”, and other women disappearing from the surrounding towns over the years. Do you know anything about them?” Karl just gave him a disgusted look.

  With that, his partner opened the back door of their car. Morton and two officers stood behind Karl as if to herd him in that direction. The detective advised, “You have your choice. It's our car, or the squad.”

  Morton looked around wide-eyed at the mansions at the end of the street, and then at the Whitestone club members going back and forth in the parking lot right next to them. “Tell me, do you really want all this fanfare?”

  Karl laughed, “Very well then,” and took his luggage back into his foyer. The detective watched him suspiciously, as he seemed to struggle with the heavier suitcases. He then closed the door and locked it.

  Walking back outside, Karl huffed, “If you must go through with this charade, I can spare about a half-hour for you, but that is all.”

  The detective did not reply and ushered, what he knew was his prime suspect, toward the car. He carefully lowered Karl’s head under the door frame, as he placed him in the back seat.

  On the brief ride to headquarters, Karl voluntarily agreed to appear in a line-up so that the informant could take a look at him. A squad car was immediately dispatc
hed to pick her up and meet them there.

  The detective then chuckled, and asked Karl,

  “Just curious. You wouldn’t know anything about a senior citizen that the Palm Beach police found face-down in his swimming pool on Ocean Boulevard this morning, would you? He was wearing a white tuxedo coat and nothing else.”

  Karl wickedly laughed, “Oh please, you know I don’t. But, I am sure whoever is privy to where his knickers are, could tell you a great story!”

  The detective pressed further, “He wasn’t one of those Whitestone guys, was he? Is there some kind of nutty member hazing that goes on?”

  Karl looked indignant, “I certainly wouldn’t know. I am just in town briefly.”

  Morton pushed further, “But you are staying on the property.”

  Karl quickly replied, “I am only here as a guest. Sorry, but I have nothing to tell you about their members.”

  The car pulled up to the station. Karl was very calm as he was escorted to the building and led into a small room. He was not under arrest and they weren’t doing anything fancy for him.

  He was just told to stand against a white wall with five other men that had been left over from a previous session. Only two of them slightly resembled Karl, one was sloshy drunk, and the others were obviously policemen.

  A middle-aged woman dressed in a faux leather halter top, hot pants, and shamelessly baring fresh needle marks on her arms, walked into the front corridor. She gave a toothy grin to the cops that she recognized and was directed where to go. She was told that all she needed to do was look through a small window at the top of the metal door.

  As she rapidly chomped on her gum, she leaned her head in. Instantly, her eyes roved to the far end and rested on Karl. She recognized him immediately!

  The woman started to point her finger, and was about to speak, when she became very shaky. She leaned on the door for support and held her hand above her eyebrows to take a second look.

  This time she could feel Karl’s eyes penetrate her through the glass. She began to feel very feverish and wondered if the meth she had just snorted was still affecting her. She asked an officer if she could sit in a chair.

  Detective Morton came out of the back room and grabbed her roughly by the arm, “Well, can you identify him or not? Why are you taking so long? Hurry up!”

  The witness was completely consumed in fear now and was looking desperate to leave. She had enough street-smarts to know not to mess with Karl.

  She brashly answered the detective, “What can I say? I don’t know what is going on. The guy’s not there. Let me go!”

  The detective pulled her from her seat, and shook her “What about the car license plate number? You told us it was his car.”

  She cried, “Please let me go. I don’t think I wrote it down right. It was dark out, and I really don’t think it was even the car color I thought it was. I was really high. You have to let me leave, or I am going to get sick right here!”

  Detective Morton growled at the cop next to him.

  “OK, let her go. If I ever see that witch on the street, I am going to lock her up. Don’t any of you ever tell me she is credible again.”

  The detective went back in the room and brought Karl out. He apologized to him, “I am sorry, but I guess you aren’t our man. I kind of doubted it anyway. A guy with your money doesn’t usually need to pay for it.”

  Karl gave him a haughty look, “That’s right, I don’t.” He looked disdainfully at the detective’s cheap suit and gave a parting shot.

  “But by the looks of your threads, it looks like you probably need to.” He gave a high-pitched laugh, as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to call his driver.

  As Karl left the building, the prostitute was walking right in front of him. He leered at her derrière and gave a low wolf whistle. She nervously turned around and looked back at him. Karl winked and flashed a smile at her.

  Terrified, the woman tried to walk faster, but her legs felt like they were melting beneath her. As she turned the next corner, she vanished from sight.

  Karl’s driver appeared and opened the door for him. He had his luggage in the trunk, and they sped toward Palm Beach International.

  Karl sat back, put his legs up, and relaxed with a glass of fine Scotch. He had never been worried about this minor distraction, and always knew that he would make it to his flight both on-time and unscathed.

  He was untouchable, in charge, and always would be.

  And, it was never just an act. …

  22 DREAM’S END

  April was fast approaching, and Kristen was sitting by the pool at Anthony’s. As usual, she was alone minding the fort. She didn’t care about his trips anymore, and actually enjoyed this time by herself to take care of all the final wedding preparations.

  Kristen had never told Anthony about her frightful night at the Whitestone. She had listened to all of the news stations the next day and had been relieved there was no mention of her killing Charles Whitcomb with that wine bottle.

  That next morning, she even disguised her voice, as she used a Publix phone to call Ariel’s number.

  One of the maids had answered and told her that Kittens had left for an extended trip overseas. She flew out three days before the fake Whitestone cocktail party. Kristen hoped that she was safe. That was weird that her father made her invite Kristen to go there.

  Kristen was very sure that Anthony would have gone berserk if she told him about Karl. And, maybe in some way, he would have also blamed her for causing it to happen. He would have incessantly questioned why she went to the Whitestone. He still was jealous of Karl and did not feel confident that Kristen was truly sorry that he was not in her life. Her fiancé was so strange when it came to the both of them.

  Lately, Anthony had been going out of his way to make sure that she knew how much he loved her. He finally figured out how Kristen ticked, and knew all the right things to say to her.

  But, to Kristen, their relationship was beginning to feel one-sided. She was no longer able to return the same amount of affection. Too many issues worried her.

  Anthony made good on his promise that Kristen could have the greatest wedding that Palm Beach had ever seen. He truly acted like he wanted to make all her dreams come true.

  It had not been easy, but Anthony was able to book a church on the island in time. It had been close to impossible to achieve this. Kristen had wanted to get married in Palm Beach ever since she was a child and first fell in love with the town.

  She was very excited about her guest list. Almost everyone had already been invited, and there were only a few declines. Anthony said she could fly her favorites in on his private jet.

  She began thinking of her childhood friends that she could invite at the last minute. The first person that came to mind was Michael Hansen. It had been a while since Kristen saw him at the New York dinner show. She assumed that he was still living near the North Shore and thought it would be great to have him there.

  She had given him her number when she last saw him, but she never had his. She still wondered why he had never tried to call her in all this time. It was pretty easy to find him. She logged into Facebook and he was on there. She looked at his list of friends and saw a lot of familiar names. She then looked at his photos. There were many pictures of him at sporting events and posing with different girls.

  She made more inquiries, and came up with his addresses, and the companies he had worked for. Seems that he was now the Chief Operations Officer, for a manufacturer that was headquartered in Chicago.

  She wondered if Michael knew that his personal cell phone number was out there for all to see. She hoped it was the current one, and nervously dialed the number.

  A familiar voice answered, “Hello?”

  Kristen bubbled, “Is this Michael?” She took a sip of her frosted orange juice, “It’s Kristen Kenworth. How are you?”

  He said, “Kristen! I’m glad to hear from you. You know I have tried calling you several
times, and the number never worked. It just went dead. Did you give me a fake number? It is not the first time this has happened with your phone number.”

  Kristen felt confused, “No, Michael, I gave you the same number that I have had for a long time. In fact, I am calling you from it now.”

  Michael laughed, “That is too weird. Why wouldn’t it work. I just don’t understand it? Where are you calling from? Are you in Chicago?"

  Kristen was excited, “I am down in Florida, actually Palm Beach.”

  Michael was amused, “You are still there? What have you been doing with yourself since I last saw you?"

  Kristen couldn’t hold it back, “I’m getting married!” There was an uncomfortable silence.

  “Really? He then chuckled, “Who is the lucky guy? Anyone I know? I hope it’s not that crazy short guy I saw you with in New York.”

  Kristen laughed, “No, I told you I was living with someone. That was his younger brother that you saw that night. My fiancée is Anthony Fiore,” she replied.

  Michael hesitated, “Anthony? You mean Tony Fiore?” He sounded upset, “The” Tony Fiore from New York?”

  “That’s him!” Kristen replied, wondering where this was leading.

  “Oh, that’s great,” he faked.

  Kristen could tell Michael was unable to gather up any enthusiasm, and she didn’t know why? “I want to invite you to our wedding. It’s coming up pretty fast and is kind of a last-minute thing.”

  “You want to invite me?”

  Kristen laughed, “Yes silly, that’s why I am calling you."

  “I would love to come see you. I need to talk to you.”

  Without addressing what he had just said, Kristen kept on, “Great, just fly into Palm Beach International. We are having the wedding on the island. There are plenty of hotels near-by.”

  Kristen looked at her watch, “I really have to go and I will e-mail you the information. Let me know if things change.”

  The next day, Kristen thought back to her conversation with Michael on the phone, and she kept wondering why he seemed so concerned when she said Anthony’s name.