“A very good question.” He had no answers.
Although Jackson had taken a different road to success, he and Joel had many similarities. They were both driven to success and had achieved it. And they had both sacrificed their personal lives for that success. Financially, Jackson wasn’t in Joel’s class, but he had done well and invested wisely. If he walked away from the show today, he could survive without ever working again, as long as he wasn’t too extravagant. Unlike Joel, there was no company that Jackson could sell. His only product and equity was himself. Someone could fill his shoes, but no one was going to pay for the privilege of stepping in. He now knew that fame was fleeting, and his might have just burned out. He was a dreamer but not stupid. Helping people was a great way to earn a living and could be very rewarding, but to the “adoring fans”, it was always about what he could do for them now.
Amber returned with the stick, her tail wagging, and a smile on her face.
“I’d like a little of that energy at my age,” joked Joel.
“Wouldn’t we all?”
“Probably time to get up to your cabin. I would think the detective should be arriving soon,” said Joel.
“Hopefully. I’d like to put this behind me as soon as possible.” And, he thought to himself, find the people responsible for this and give them a taste of their own medicine.
“You know,” said Jackson, “it’s kind of ironic. I’ve spent my entire career trying to help people solve problems and get restitution, and now, I’m the one looking to someone to help me out of a jam.”
“You deserve a break, Bob. I’m glad we met and that I could be in a position to help. Seems like a small thing for me to do.”
They trudged up the hill to Jackson’s cabin, followed by Amber. She was disappointed that the fetch game was over but still wagged her tail, hoping a new game was about to begin.
They entered the cabin from a large wooden porch that wrapped around the south and west side. It was an older-style cabin, with two bedrooms, one up and one down, and a nice-sized living room that led to the kitchen.
“Nice place you have here,” commented Joel, looking around the room.
“Thanks. It’s not as nice as your place, but it’s comfortable. It was my uncle’s place. He had it built around thirty years ago and was coming out here every year until recently, when his health started to fail.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah. Can I get you a beer?”
“Sure,” replied Joel.
“Have a seat while I get us a couple. Any preference? Light or dark?”
“Whatever you’re having is fine with me.”
Jackson returned a couple minutes later with two open bottles of Guinness and handed one to Joel. “Thanks for helping me out, Joe.” They clinked the bottles together, and each took a long draw of cold beer.
Amber suddenly sat up to attention and let out a low bark, alerting Jackson and Joel to the sound of tires on the gravel driveway in front of the house.
“I guess the detective has arrived,” observed Joel.
Jackson lifted himself off the couch and headed for the front door. As he opened the door, he was immediately greeted by Detective Baird, pointing a gun at him.
Before Jackson could say anything, Detective Baird spoke up in a stern, commanding voice. “Don’t say anything. No fast moves. Just do as I say.”
“What?”
“Step back from the door slowly.”
Shocked to see the detective pointing a gun at him, Jackson complied with the command. As he backed up, allowing the detective to enter, Joel caught a glimpse of the gun, and then the detective.
“What’s going on?” Joel asked nervously.
“You,” said Baird, pointing the gun at Joel. “Keep your mouth shut and stay on the couch.”
Joel carefully set his beer down on the coffee table, never taking his eyes off the detective.
Jackson started to speak. “Detective, what’s wrong? This is my witness. I…”
Detective Baird cut him off. “I said not to talk. Go sit down next to him. Is anyone else here?”
Amber growled.
“Shut the dog up, or I will.”
Joel quietly urged Amber over to him and commanded her to sit at his feet. She complied reluctantly but kept an eye on Baird, all the while letting out a barely audible growl. Joel could hear her and did his best to calm her down.
“Is anyone else here?” Baird repeated.
“No. I don’t understand,” said Jackson, his heart pounding.
“Good. Just sit down, and all will be explained shortly,” snarled Baird.
Jackson did as he was told and set his beer on the table next to Joel’s. He glanced at Joel and shrugged as if to say I don’t have a clue what’s going on. He was more confused than frightened by the latest turn of events. A minute ago he was elated at the prospect of putting the whole ordeal behind him, now he was staring down the barrel of a revolver. It made no sense. His mind raced with questions. Were they in danger? Was there some new development in the case? He looked back at Joel. Had the detective discovered that Joel was involved in some way? The detective looked angry and nervous. He kept scanning the room as if he expected someone to pop out and attack him. He watched as the detective carefully advanced to the kitchen door and peeked in, never leaving the two unguarded by the revolver in his hand. Satisfied no one was in the kitchen he asked, “Is there anyone upstairs?”
“No. There’s no one here,” said Jackson. “What’s going on?” he asked still trying to make sense of what was going on.
“There better not be,” said Baird as he relaxed slightly. “Ok. So, is this your star witness that you think will clear you?” asked Baird, pointing at Joel.
“Yes, that’s what I was trying to tell you. Joel lives up here and I ran into him on the day two of the murders took place. He’s here to help clear me. I don’t think you need to point a gun at us.”
Baird nodded but said nothing, his eyes shifting around the room.
Joel watched carefully, confused, but he knew something wasn’t right about the detective. Over the years in a cut-throat business world Joel had become adept at reading people. What he saw was a detective giving off signs of extreme hatred and anger but also paranoia. What was he afraid of? And why would he be angry with Bob? Wasn’t he here to help clear him? And, since when did you point a gun at a witness? Joel struggled to keep his own composure but he wasn’t accustomed to having guns pointed at him. Amber wasn’t confused though, she knew that the detective was evil and it took all her willpower to keep from attacking.
“Detective, this is the witness who can verify that I was here during some of the murders,” pleaded Jackson.
Baird held up his hand signaling Jackson to stop talking. “I guess it’s time to fill you in Bob. The charade is over now but it’s been fun up to know. Here it is Bob. I’ve known from day one that you weren’t the killer.”
“But, I don’t understand,” Jackson stammered. “If you knew I wasn’t the killer why didn’t you say so? This doesn’t make any sense.” He looked from Joel to Baird. “If you know that I’m not involved why are you pointing a gun at us?”
“Bob. You don’t get it but that’s ok. You weren’t meant to until now. I set you up. It was me all along. Me and Julia that is?”
“Julia?”
“Yea, you know Julia. From your office? We’re the Revengers,” he said with an evil grin.
The room went silent as the realization set in.
Joel watched the interchange between the two men with concern. He may have been surprised by the confession, but his mind sped past that as he started to assess the predicament that confession had created. His conclusion was that if something or someone didn’t intervene, this was not going to end well. Over the course of his long career, he had seen and been involved in a number of boardroom fights, but nothing like what he was experiencing now. This was life-or-death, not career survival. He calmly surveyed the room, l
ooking for something that might be used as a weapon. He spotted a fireplace poker that was almost in reach. Of course, obtaining it and using it on the detective without getting shot posed a serious problem. It might be their only chance of survival, but only if he made the move at the right time. He decided to watch and wait, hoping the detective would make a fatal error.
“You’re the Revengers?” Jackson questioned him with a look of disbelief. “Why? I don’t even know you. Why would you try to frame me?”
Baird held up his hand again. “Don’t rush me, Bob. I promise to reveal everything to you before we are done today. Soon, as a matter of fact. Julia is outside, and she has another guest you might not be so happy to see. She should be joining us in just a second.” The evil grin flashed across his face again. He glanced expectantly toward the door.
“Who?” asked Jackson angrily.
“Does the name Tina mean anything to you?”
Jackson’s face flushed red with fear and confusion. That wasn’t possible. She was in New York. Unable to control himself, he rose quickly off the couch and confronted the detective. “You have Tina?”
Baird calmly pointed the gun at Jackson’s head. “Hold on there, cowboy. This gun is real and loaded, and I’m considered to be a very good shot.” While he spoke, he fished in his coat pocket, brought out the taser, and pointed it toward Jackson. “Sit down now, and relax,” he commanded. “I won’t tell you again. She’ll be here in a moment.”
Barely able to contain himself, Jackson sat back down, never taking his eyes off Baird. He had a vision of leaping across the room before the detective could get off a shot and literally breaking the man’s neck with his bare hands. Jackson knew he could take Baird in a fair fight but had no illusions about his chances with two guns pointing at him. He would wait for the right moment. This wasn’t it.
As he sat back down, he tried to make sense of everything. How could Tina be involved? But he believed the detective was telling the truth. A quick glance at Joel told him that he, too, was confused but seemed to be calculating their options and odds of success. It wasn’t much, but so far, Jackson considered that their best option for success would be to split up and attack the detective from different directions. He might get off two shots and hit one of them, but with any luck, he’d miss both of them. He wasn’t thrilled with any of the various outcomes he could imagine.
Baird was starting to worry. He had Jackson and Joel seated where he could easily watch both of them, but something was wrong. Julia should have brought Tina in by now. That was the plan. With each passing moment, and each furtive glance at the door, his anxiety level grew. Julia was screwing up again. She was always having trouble taking orders and sticking to plans.
He called out to her but was answered with silence. Now, he wished he had situated himself where he could watch Joel and Jackson without having to turn his head away to look at the front door. A sense of foreboding supplanted his earlier optimism.
Suddenly, the front door swung open, and Julia came barging in, tugging Tina behind her by the hair. Tina’s hands were bound behind her back, and she was having trouble keeping her balance. Her mouth was bound by duct tape, and her clothes were covered in leaves and dirt with blood soaking through in numerous places. She struggled defiantly, and her eyes burned with fire and hatred as she came into the room. The only thing keeping her at bay was the knife Julia was pointing at her neck. Julia was also covered in dirt and had her own scrapes and bruises.
“Move it, bitch!” she screamed at Tina.
Jackson reacted to the sight instantly. Jumping out of his position on the couch, he started toward Julia, determined to take her head off. Baird was momentarily caught off-guard by the sight of the two women and almost didn’t catch Jackson on the move. While Baird focused on Jackson going after Julia, Joel made a move toward the fireplace poker. Reacting instinctively, Baird fired a shot but missed everyone, the bullet ricocheting harmlessly off the wall.
But the sound of the revolver froze everyone in the room.
“That was your last warning!” screamed Baird. “The next shot you hear will be aimed at you!” He waved the gun back and forth between Jackson and Joel. “And I guarantee you, I won’t miss the next time!” With order restored, Baird looked at the wounds on Julia’s face. “What happened?”
“The bitch tried to get away,” she said as she shoved Tina to the floor. “She fucking bashed her head in my face.” She wiped blood from her nose with her arm. Her blouse was already soaked red.
“You need to be more careful.”
“Gee, thanks, asshole,” Julia responded.
As bad as Julia’s face looked, Tina was in much worse shape. The stab wounds to her side were bleeding profusely, and the struggle to escape had drained her energy. She was having trouble catching her breath. She wanted to just lay on the floor and rest, but Julia grabbed her by the hair again, dragged her over to the couch, and dropped her on the floor at Jackson’s feet.
Jackson kneeled to help her. He moved slowly, so as not to give Baird another excuse to fire his weapon. He carefully removed the tape from her mouth. “Are you okay?”
Tina shook her head. Tears streamed down her face.
“I don’t think so.”
“Try to hang in there,” he said as he comforted her.
“I tried to get away and get help. After I hit her in the face, I ran, but I was so weak, I tripped. She’s been stabbing me with that knife all the way here. I’m sorry, Bob.”
“It will be okay,” he said but without conviction. He pulled her blouse up to look at the knife wounds. “She needs a doctor.”
“She’s lucky I didn’t slit her throat!” screamed Julia, blood dripping into her mouth from her nose.
Jackson ignored Julia and looked at Baird. “I’ve got a First-Aid kit in the bathroom. Can I get it?”
“Not a chance. Just sit where you are.”
Jackson gritted his teeth, then tore his shirt off and placed it on the biggest wound to try to stop the bleeding. He took her hand and had her put pressure on it. She followed his instructions but grimaced as she pressed down.
“How did you get here?” he asked Tina.
“I came home early to surprise you, and they were at your house. They’re the murderers, Bob. They’re the Revengers.”
He nodded. “I know. God, Tina, I’m so sorry you are mixed up in this.”
“Enough with the touchy-feely crap,” barked Baird. “I know you’re all dying to find out what this is all about, aren’t you?” He made special emphasis on the word dying. “And I’m getting bored, and we don’t have all day.”
“We should just do it and get the fuck out of here,” cried Julia. “I need to see a doctor about my nose.”
“It can wait,” said Baird calmly. “I’ve waited a long time for this, and I’m going to enjoy every last minute of it. Bob wants to know what this is all about. Don’t you, Bob?”
Jackson glared back at him.
“Well, I’m holding the gun, so I get to decide what we do and when we do it from here on out.”
Jackson kept his mouth shut. There was no doubt in his mind how Baird planned to end this. His fear of dying was dwarfed by his anger at Baird. He started to consider what his options might be.
“Now, Bob, I think I know what you’re thinking, and I advise against it,” said Baird, as if he could read his mind. He pointed the gun at Tina’s head. “I’m going to ask everyone to remain seated.” The gun he was pointing at them was a throwaway that he had stolen from the evidence room—one he was sure no one could trace back to him. He handed it to Julia and instructed her to keep it trained on their captives. He held onto the taser gun and pointed it at Jackson. He needed time to think again. The wounds that Julia had inflicted on Tina weren’t in line with the narrative that he had come up with earlier. Once again, she had botched things for him. A little time was all he needed to figure it out.
“If anyone moves, shoot them. I need to get the duffle bag,”
he said as he went out the door.
Now, with the detective out the door, Jackson wondered if they should make their move. He was sure that Joel was thinking the same thing. Julia would not be as adept with a gun as Baird. It was possible he might be able to reach her before she could get two shots off. With any luck, she would miss her first shot, as well.
“Bob,” said Julia, “I can read your mind. You think you can reach me before I can shoot you? Not going to happen.” She moved a few steps away, making his plan less likely to be successful.
“Julia, think about what you’re doing,” pleaded Jackson. “I thought we were friends.”
“You thought wrong,” she said through bloodstained teeth. “You and George are a couple of pansies. You guys think you are doing such good things. It’s all just a load of crap. You guys are so full of yourselves. I wish George was here, so I could cap him, too.”
Baird reappeared at the door and saw that Julia had increased the distance between her and the captives.
“Did I interrupt something? Well, I didn’t hear any gunshots, so I guess you all behaved yourselves,” he finished, with an evil laugh. He took the revolver back from Julia.
“Look, whatever this is about, it’s me you want, not Joel or Tina. Just let them go, and I’ll give you whatever you want,” offered Jackson.
“Silly boy. I have want I want. Your career is over. You’re miserable. Everyone hates you now. Hell, if I were you, I’d commit suicide.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“A little thing called ‘revenge’. Get it? That’s why we are the Revengers. Sweet and simple. We couldn’t care less about all those stupid contractors.”
“Revenge for what? I’ve never done anything to you. Until this all started, I didn’t even know you.”
“You don’t understand much, you son-of-a-bitch.” Now, Baird was getting himself all worked up. “Does the name Ray Baird ring a bell?”
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