by David Perry
“The memory chip of the camera was confiscated,” Jason said, refusing to be sidetracked. “All the photos are in the possession of the Secret Service now. I was lucky to keep the camera equipment.”
She said, “Keep the camera. You’ll need it. I have reconsidered my position. Bring me other location options within the next week. What is your second question?”
“I thought the expansion of the Colonial was a secret,” Jason said. “Why were you discussing it out there? I’m just curious.”
Zanns’s mood flipped like a manic-depressive who’d forgotten to take her lithium. “I will discuss my plans when and where I choose. Is that clear? You work for me. Do not question my motives again. My patience and good graces only go so far!”
Then she softened, and picked a piece of lint from Jason’s sport coat. “You mentioned being curious. Curiosity. I don’t find myself using that word often. In life it can be a valuable asset. But it can also get one in a lot of trouble, n’est-ce pas? You are a curious person, aren’t you, Monsieur Jason?”
“No more than the next person,” he replied.
Zanns pushed out her lower lip. “That’s not what I hear. Too much curiosity can be dangerous.”
“How so?” asked Jason.
“Sometimes you have to accept things at face value. Too much digging leads to unwanted consequences.”
Jason felt as if a veiled threat was being leveled at him. He wanted to say something, but was too shocked to respond. Then Zanns put her arm around his shoulder and led him back to the party. Her tone had changed from a lecturing executive’s to that of a doting matriarch. “But to indulge you just this once, it was time that the mayor and his people were made aware of our plans. Before I spoke to you at dinner, I was bringing the mayor up to speed. Now, enough talk about business. Let us enjoy the rest of the evening.”
He let the secrecy issue drop, though the inconsistency baffled him. It was her show. She could talk or not talk about it whenever she chose. Forget about it, he thought. She had caved, after all, on the east end locations. He smiled inwardly and felt the cigar in his pocket.
“Did you make the offer to Mr. Parks?” asked Zanns.
Jason nodded. “Yes. He was very pleased with the twenty-thousand-dollar raise. I’ll get him to start in a day or two. Lily, how do you expect to make a profit, throwing your money around? Besides the cost of medications, pharmacist salaries are one of the costliest items on the balance sheet.”
“You let me worry about that,” she replied.
* * *
“I want to dance,” Christine announced, grabbing Jason’s hand and leading him onto the dance floor.
“Are you having a good time?” he asked as they swayed to a slow beat.
Christine shrugged. “I wouldn’t write home about it.”
“Well, I’ll have to try harder.”
After a few measures, Christine couldn’t resist asking a question that nagged at her. “Do you like her?”
“Who?”
“Dr. I’m-Not-Wearing-Any-Underwear. She’s been eyeing you all night.”
“Really? I haven’t noticed anyone but you tonight, Chrissie.”
Christine smacked him on the shoulder. “Nice try, Romeo. That vixen is all over you.”
His smile widened. “You’re jealous!”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Christine intoned. “You mean to tell me you can’t see through her advances? She’s been on you like flies on a pile of dung.”
“That’s an appetizing thought. Are you comparing me to a pile of dung?”
“Just dance.”
“We are dancing. Besides, she’s just trying to be friendly.”
“With friends like her…”
“Just remember, she’s coming on to me, not the other way around. I didn’t plan it.”
“Oh, so you admit that she’s coming on to you.”
“Okay, okay. I admit it.”
Christine smiled. “Good. Now enjoy the dance.”
When the song was over, he grabbed two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and led her down the sloped lawn toward the pier and boathouse, passing Jasmine along the way.
“Make sure you save me a dance,” the doctor said. Christine shot her a withering glance.
The dim light of the single lamp on the pier glistened off the water. In the distance, Zanns’s boat and plane bobbed gently on the water. They climbed into the small launch. Retribution was scrawled across the transom.
* * *
Lily joined Jasmine where the patio met the thick lawn, observing Jason and Christine. “Have you made any progress with him?” asked Zanns.
Jasmine shook her head. “The woman is getting in the way. There’s history there.”
Zanns nodded. “They were lovers many years ago.” Lily looked at her illegitimate daughter. “Allow them their time tonight. Get him alone tomorrow. Use whatever you have at your disposal, but be quick about it. In a week, we will have accomplished our mission and your father will be avenged. Nothing will get in the way.”
“Perhaps Sam is right. Maybe you shouldn’t have hired him.”
Zanns sighed. “Everything is under control. Fear not, daughter. I know how to break up this little romance.”
CHAPTER 18
“You’re still not over her, are you?” Christine asked. She wasn’t referring to Jasmine Kader.
“Who?” he replied, feigning ignorance.
“You know who. Sheila. How long ago did it end?”
Sheila Boquist was another failed relationship in a short, painful string following Jason’s divorce from Jenny four years ago. Jason had admitted to himself years ago that, compared with his relationship with the woman sitting beside him now, every other woman he’d ever been involved with did not measure up, including Michael’s mother.
“It ended two weeks ago. What gave it away?”
“We’ve both lived here our whole lives, Jason. The area is not that big. Word gets around. Did you love her?”
“No.”
The water glowed silver with moonlight. A breeze gently moved Christine’s hair and a shiver spread over her. Jason placed his arm around her, expecting to be rebuffed. Christine tensed but didn’t try to move away.
Christine waited for Jason to offer more. There was only silence. She gazed at the huge yacht, floating a hundred and fifty yards away. “What is it with you guys?”
“What?”
“Why is it so hard for you to talk about your feelings?”
“You’re not going to start analyzing me, are you?”
“I’ll analyze if I want to,” she said.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” she retorted.
“Was there someone in your life?”
“Why do you say ‘was’?”
“Because if it was an ‘is,’ you wouldn’t have come tonight. At least, not with me.”
Christine shrugged, conceding the point. “It ended about three months ago.”
“How serious was it?”
“We were engaged.”
“I’d say that qualifies as serious.”
“We dated for two years. And he’s a good guy, but we just weren’t right for each other. If I’d married him, I would’ve regretted it in five or six years. So I ended it.”
“That must have been hard.”
“Incredibly. But it was the right thing.” Christine faced him, locking eyes.
“Sometimes doing the right thing hurts,” he replied.
“Tell me about Sheila.”
“She wasn’t what she seemed to be. I didn’t like her very much after the veil was pulled away.”
“How long?”
“We dated for about ten months. The part that really gets to me is the way she treated Michael, my son. It was almost as if she was jealous of him. I never met anyone so selfish.”
“Did she physically abuse him?”
“No, she just made his life—and mine—very uncomfortabl
e.”
“Kids are resilient. He’ll forget about her soon enough. So what are you looking for now?”
He smirked. “Some cheap, meaningless sex.”
“You can get that from Dr. Hussy up there.”
Jason smiled. “I was just joking. I’m not interested in Jasmine. I don’t need the complication right now. That’s the word that sums up what I need—uncomplicated.”
“Uncomplicated sounds good.” She slipped her hand into his. “It’s easier to talk when things aren’t complicated by emotion. And we still have some talking to do.”
“Really?”
“Really. Like why your marriage ended, what you’ve been doing for the last thirteen years. And that other thing.”
* * *
Jasmine’s eyes darted between the couple she’d been pretending to be interested in and the pier. The pair ascended the sloped lawn. She heard the Christine woman say, “I have to find the little girls’ room.” Jasmine did not hesitate, intercepting Jason on his way to the bar. She slipped her hand in his and pulled him toward the dance floor. “You’ve ignored me long enough!”
She placed a hand on his lower back, toying with the thin line of appropriateness. The other slipped under his jacket between his shoulder blades, pulling him to her. Her floral fragrance and the pressure of her firm body started a chain of involuntary male responses. Restraint and desire became embroiled in a vicious tug of war.
Jasmine moved her lips to his ear and whispered, “Are you afraid of assertive women, Jason?”
“What makes you think that?”
“You are, aren’t you?” The whispered words were full of implied pleasure.
“No, Jasmine. I’m not intimidated. I’m here with someone. It’s proper that I respect that.”
“So if you were here alone, you would be more receptive to my flirting.”
“I didn’t say that either.” Jasmine spun them across the dance floor. Jason noticed Christine standing nearby, pretending not to notice.
“Your girlfriend is watching us,” said Jasmine.
He tried in vain to appear casual. “She’s not my girlfriend. Do you take pleasure in acting this way?”
“I’m enjoying it immensely.” Her black eyes tugged at his memory in a way Jason could not put a finger on. It was a quality he’d seen in Sam Fairing’s eyes as well, as if he were looking into a familiar but unfriendly face.
“Do you enjoy wreaking havoc with relationships?”
“I thought you said she wasn’t your girlfriend.”
“You’re trying to cause trouble.”
“I know what I want and I go after it,” said Jasmine as the song ended. She slipped her hand down his backside and squeezed a handful.
Jason pushed her away. “That’s enough!”
Jasmine was undaunted. “I’ll call you at work and ask you to lunch tomorrow. And you won’t refuse me.” She spun and wiggled away. Jason turned away from her retreating image in a tangle of bewilderment and arousal.
His cell phone chirped. “Hello?” Static filled the line. “Hello?”
More static. He flipped it closed and walked to Christine.
“Did you enjoy your full-body examination?” She forced a weak smile. “I want to go home.”
“It was just a dance,” Jason muttered.
“If there was a piece of coal between the two of you, a diamond would have dropped to the floor from all the pressure. That woman wants something from you, Jason,” said Christine.
There was a stirring in the crowd, and it parted. Zanns appeared, waving her arms, gathering everyone around her. A wheeled cart draped by a white tablecloth appeared from inside the house, pushed by one of the liveried wait staff. On it rested a large bronze mortar and pestle. The guests circled close.
“And I think we both know what that is,” Jason rejoined.
“Think again, horn dog. Some women only use sex or the promise of sex to get what they want.”
“Do you speak from personal experience?”
“I speak as a card-carrying member of the female species. Some women use their bodies to get what they want.”
“So you’re admitting that you possess that power.”
“Of course I possess that power. Every woman has it. We have it because you guys are so driven by urges below the belt, you give it to us. All we have to do is turn it on.”
“And you’ve never turned that power?”
“I used it on my fiancé when I wanted him to cut the grass or take out the trash. But I never used it to advance myself in business or get information. See, Jason, honey, I only use my power for good, not evil. That’s the difference between me and Dr. Jump-My-Bones over there.”
“Where did you get your degree in social anthropology?”
Three quick, loud claps interrupted Christine. Lily Zanns called the gathering to order. “We have gathered tonight to honor a man who was a vital force to the profession of pharmacy over the last thirty years. I had the privilege of knowing Thomas Pettigrew for the last four. Many people have told me what a dedicated pharmacist and wonderful human being Thomas Pettigrew was. I saw those qualities every day as we worked together. We were to bestow upon him the Lifetime Achievement Award from the Peninsula Pharmacists Association for his contribution to the health and well-being of our community.
“Unfortunately, he was tragically taken from us a few weeks ago. Tonight, we honor him posthumously. Tonight is a celebration of not only his professional career but also his life. I would like to invite his daughter, Christine, to join us in accepting this award this evening.”
Christine fought the urge to turn and run. Jason gently grabbed her elbow and guided her through the crowd. The levies opened and tears flooded her eyes as Zanns hugged her. Christine stood with her arms hanging limp by her sides, too devastated to return the embrace.
Zanns continued, “I would like to now introduce to you the president of the Peninsula Retail Pharmacists Association.”
Chrissie didn’t catch her name. The middle-aged woman spoke about Thomas Pettigrew’s accomplishments over his long, distinguished service career. His participation in local organizations was well chronicled. The words did not register with Christine as she stood with eyes lowered. Then she was handed the large mortar and pestle engraved with her father’s name. Polite applause followed. In the moment of awkward silence that followed, Christine felt all eyes on her. She choked back tears and spoke softly, barely audible. “Daddy would be very proud of this honor,” she said. “He was a decent man. Someone who always wanted to do the right thing. It’s a blessing to have people in your life who do the right thing.” Christine looked at Jason, her eyes delivering an uncomfortable message.
She wiped her eyes, as the sound of her sobs was drowned by more applause.
* * *
Jason, relieved the soiree was ending, guided Christine to the front entrance, where most of the partygoers were headed. Christine clutched the heavy mortar and pestle in both arms.
At the door, Jasmine offered her hand to Jason and said, loudly enough for Christine to hear, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Jason.” The doctor also offered a hand to Christine, who responded only with a frozen stare. Outside, they waited for the valet and chatted with other departing guests.
Then Jason recognized the familiar outline of the approaching figure. “Oh, no,” he said.
“What’s wrong?” Christine asked, following his gaze.
A woman was marching up the circular driveway, weaving through a line of cars. Her eyes were locked on her ex-boyfriend and the woman standing with him. Her auburn curls bobbed with each determined stride.
“This is gonna be ugly,” Jason croaked.
“Who’s that?” Christine asked.
“It’s Sheila, my ex.”
“What the hell is she doing here?”
“I was just asking myself that same question.”
Sheila Boquist stomped to a halt. The veins in her neck looked like taut computer cables benea
th her pale, flushed skin. Her cobalt eyes burned with anger. “I thought you said you weren’t seeing anyone,” she snapped.
“Sheila, this isn’t the time or the place.”
“Bullshit! You’ve been cheating on me since day one, haven’t you? You lying piece of shit!”
Dozens of eyes were fixed on the confrontation.
“Sheila, I’m not going to do this now.” Jason’s eyes searched the faces of other departing guests. Shocked, tense smiles greeted him.
Sheila looked Christine up and down. “Is this the tart you’ve been screwing?”
“Sheila! That’s enough!” he whispered harshly. He moved between the two women before Christine could react. He put his hands on Sheila’s shoulders to turn her away. “Let’s just go—”
Distracted by embarrassment and Sheila’s audacity, Jason had let his defenses down. Sheila raised her knee quickly and mashed it into his testicles. Bolts of lightning paralyzed him. Air escaped his lungs in a loud whoosh. He sank to both knees and grabbed his groin, retching in a violent, silent scream.
CHAPTER 19
In her living room, Jason looked up at Christine as she assessed his pitiful state. The bag of frozen peas rested gingerly between his legs, darkening Jason’s trousers with moisture. He’d been trying to get comfortable for the last ten minutes. After she’d delivered her blow, Sheila had stormed off. He barely recalled being lifted by strong hands into the car. He spent the ride to Christine’s house curled into a fetal position in the passenger seat. Christine drove, suppressing a smile the whole way.
“I’d offer to rub it, but I’m not that kind of girl,” said Christine.
Jason winced and readjusted. “You think this is funny, don’t you?”
“The comedic value is priceless. You’re welcome to sleep in the spare bedroom. I wouldn’t want you getting in an accident because all your blood rushed to your balls and you couldn’t concentrate on your driving,” she said. “Now, I’m going to take a shower. I’ll check on you before I go to bed.” As she turned to go upstairs, Christine stopped, another thought occurring to her. “You can throw the peas away. I don’t think I’ll be eating them anytime soon.”