by Lois Kay
Joe Michaels himself was not sitting down, he was standing behind his desk, his hands leaning on the smooth, dark oak surface. His voice was low and everybody who knew him well enough could hear the barely veiled excitement in his voice. His eyes were shining and the little smile that curled the corner of his mouth never left his face.
When he finally stopped speaking, the room was filled with silence and his eyes roamed over his quiet companions. Little Steven's face was stoic, as it usually was. William Jenkins's face was pale and he nervously drummed his fingers on his knee. The youngest of the three, Fred, was shifting in his chair. It was obvious he didn't feel at ease and Joe Michaels noticed the sweat on his forehead, despite the temperature in the room.
“I’ve told you my plans, gentlemen.” Joe Michaels sat down in his leather chair. “And I can assure you, there's no way back. No way out.” He glanced at Fred, who tried hard not to shiver.
“We're in this together, so you'd better not screw up, because if I go down, I’ll take you all with me.” He paused to give his words a dramatic effect, which was not lost on his audience. “But I promise you, when we succeed you’ll all be free to go, if you like. And guess what? You'll be rich.” His laugh made Fred feel sick to his stomach and he cast down his eyes, so his boss wouldn't be able to see the repulsion in them.
William Jenkins clenched his teeth. By focusing on the near future, where he would be free of Joe Michaels, he was trying to come to terms with the guilt that was gnawing his insides. And any thought about Jody and her friend was pushed to the background. He kept telling himself repeatedly that it was for the best, that he had a family to consider. That his wife and daughter needed him to do the job right, because if he didn't, he'd never come home. He would spend the rest of his life behind bars, or worse, he’d end up dead.
“Any questions?” Joe Michaels asked. He glanced at his watch. A not too subtle sign he was done with the meeting.
“What about the girl, Joe?” Little Steven asked. “Are we supposed to forget about her now?”
“Yeah, you are. I want you to focus on the big fish. But if the little brat gets in the way, you know what to do.”
“Eliminate her.” Little Steven’s voice was calm and casual, as if they weren’t discussing a human life.
Fred cleared his throat to mask the gasp that almost escaped and he wiped away the moisture from his forehead and upper lip. He could feel the drops of perspiration slide down his back. Fiona McDonnell was the same age as his sister, Nancy, and he sent a silent prayer to anyone who was willing to listen to a petty criminal to keep the teenager out of harm’s way. Having to hurt Fiona would be like hurting his own sister. Fred felt a stab of pain and he had to take a few deep breaths to regain his composure. Of course, Joe Michaels had noticed.
“Will he be okay?” he asked Little Steven, pointing at Fred.
Without looking at his young companion Little Steven nodded, his eyes never leaving his boss' “He'll be right, Joe. No worries. He's just a youngster, but he'll learn.”
“Good. Well, if there are no further questions you can all go on your way. Now, remember, be cautious, I don't want to draw any attention. I'd rather have you idiots taking your time with this. We'll get her. Just stick to the plan. Alright?”
* * *
“Fiona, for the umpteenth time, you can't translate it like this. It's German for crying out loud, not English. The grammar is different and you have to use those four cases.” With a frustrated motion, Jody pushed her hair back from her forehead. “Why did you pick this language in the first place?”
“Come on, sis,” Fiona smirked. “It was that or Japanese and I don’t like sushi.” Her eyes were twinkling with mischief.
“Sometimes, you’re impossible,” Jody muttered.
Jody heard a muffled laugh behind her and when she turned around she saw Sam leaning against the kitchen counter with a steaming mug in her hand.
“Don't laugh, Sam. This is horrible. Wait a minute.” Jody's eyes lit up and she turned around in her chair to be able to look at Sam. “Dutch and German are similar, aren't they? Maybe you can help Fiona.”
Sam laughed and her clear blue eyes shone with mirth, while she shook her head. “Oh, no, my love,” she objected. “It might seem that way, but the grammar is totally different. Besides, I never took German. I can speak it when I must, but I'm a klutz when it comes to German grammar. No way I could teach Fi. We Dutch are more interested in beating the Germans at soccer for bragging rights, than speaking their language according to their grammar rules.”
“You're no help.” Jody turned her attention back to Fiona, ignoring the chuckle that her words had prompted.
“Sorry,” Sam mouthed with a wink at Fiona.
Jody and a reluctant Fiona returned to the German homework. Sam stared in the distance, without seeing much. Her thoughts went over the information her brother had sent her and she was trying to come up with a solution for the problems she was faced with. It was obvious William Jenkins was deeply involved in some dubious activities that required a lot of money. He had used The Reef to leach away money. The accounts the corporate office had received had never indicated that something was wrong, until that anonymous email arrived and Tom had a closer look. Large amounts of money had been channeled away, apparently into different bank accounts. Sam didn't think William Jenkins was the brain behind it all. She suspected that he was another puppet, working for someone who had power over him. She wished she would be able to talk to The Reef’s soon-to-be former manager. But she had promised Inspector Wong to stay out of the investigation and the police had not been able to find him yet. She glanced at the kitchen table where a dark and ginger-colored head were bent over a book. Jody would be furious if she would break her promise. And rightly so. Sam exhaled and took a sip of coffee. It had been two days since she had talked to Senior Sergeant Waters and she was getting restless being cooped up in Megan and Sarah’s house. She detested not being in control. Despite the promise she had made, her mind was forming a plan. Not that she was going to act on it. Just in case—.
* * *
With trembling hands Joan McDonnell unpacked her husband’s suitcase, neatly stacking the clean clothes on the shelves and throwing the dirty ones in the already full hamper. After the doctor had discharged him that morning, she had picked him up from the hospital. Part of her was happy he was well enough to come home, but the other part mourned the loss of the freedom she had been experienced.
Ever since David McDonnell had found out she had been seeing Jody, he had been giving her the silent treatment. He only spoke when she asked him something and he always kept his answers short and gruff. It made her feel nervous and very insecure. Especially, when she realized she had to confront him with the information Jody and Sam had given her about Fiona’s whereabouts. She knew she had to face him soon, before he noticed Fiona wouldn't be coming home after school.
“Is there any coffee left?” His voice suddenly sounded behind her and she almost jumped. Startled she turned around, to see his still angry eyes rest upon her.
“I'll get you some,” she answered. She left the pile of clothes and hurried into the kitchen. She was aware he followed her and after taking a deep, steadying breath, she turned around to face him. “David, we have to talk.”
“No, we don't.” His voice was cold and distant. “All I want is you to get me some coffee. You disappointed me, Joan. I need time to get over that. A wife is supposed to obey her husband.”
Joan McDonnell felt a coldness settle in her chest. Her thoughts focused on her daughters and how, especially Jody had suffered because of David’s beliefs and attitude. The guilt she felt for not having stood by her side was intense. Having seen Jody reunited with Sam had touched something deep inside of her and she was determined to be a part of their lives, whether her husband approved or not. Suddenly, all anxiety left her body, leaving her calm and determined.
“A parent is supposed to love their child,” she objected. Her vo
ice was shaky, but clear. Her words caught his attention and suddenly the cup he raised to his lips, was lowered down. His eyes turned cold.
“What?” he almost spat.
“A parent is supposed to love their child,” Joan repeated. The look he gave her made her mouth go dry and she had to make a deliberate effort to push down the queasy feeling in her stomach.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying I don't love my children?”
Joan McDonnell pushed her hair back from her forehead and took a deep breath. “I didn't say you don't love your children. I know you do, in your own way. But what seems right to you is not always good for the children, David.”
“Meaning?”
“The way you treated Jody is awful.” There, she said it. Joan McDonnell bit her bottom lip and braced herself for the outbreak of anger that would soon follow. She didn't have to wait long.
David McDonnell stared at his wife as if he was seeing her for the first time. His eyes turned to slits and his face became red. He slammed his cup on the kitchen counter. The mug broke and coffee spilled across the smooth surface. A few drops slowly slid down one of the kitchen cabinets, forming a small puddle on the immaculate floor.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” David McDonnell had taken a step closer to Joan, but she stood her ground.
“Eight years ago, you lied to her, when Sam left. And you lied to Sam. You lied to all of us. You told her Matthew became paraplegic after the accident. Sam went back home thinking Jody didn't want to see her anymore because of that.” Joan saw her husband’s face turn bright red, before it drained of all color. For a moment, she was afraid his heart couldn’t take the stress, but when he opened his mouth to speak, she knew he had returned to his old self.
“And who told you this?”
“Sam,” Joan McDonnell answered. She braced herself for the rage that was certain to come.
“Like in Samantha Stevens? That sinful, God forsaken creature? She’s back? That queer? And you believe her?”
Joan McDonnell took a deep breath and squared her shoulders to face the next round. “I believe her, yes. Sam’s a very decent, honest person. And even though you didn't approve of her relationship with Jody, you had no right to treat them the way you did. You drove our daughter away from us, David. That was wrong.”
David McDonnell was so angry he could not speak. He stared at his wife with a look of disgust and even though he opened and closed his mouth a few times, no sound came out. In blind fury, he raised his hand and with a sickening sound he hit his wife square in the face. Her head snapped back and before she could even try to get away he hit her again.
Blood spilled from her nose and a cut in her lip, contrasting sharply with the paleness of her skin. Joan McDonnell was so stunned she didn't even try to wipe it away. She looked at her husband with unbelieving eyes. For a few moments, they stared at each other. Finally, after what seemed a very long time, Joan McDonnell turned, grabbed her car keys and purse from the table and headed for the door. She didn't look back.
Chapter 17
It was another beautiful day, with a clear blue sky and abundant sunshine. Tourists were slowly cruising the streets and the braver ones were on the beach, sunbathing or enjoying the cool, salty water of the ocean. People who had to work were in their air-conditioned office buildings, shops and restaurants, happy to be out of the oppressive heat. Small groups of people walked through the impressive entrance of The Reef, checking in and out at the desk, or leaving for a day of shopping or sightseeing.
“What's the use of sitting here, waiting?” Fred grumbled. “It feels like the only thing I’ve been doing lately is sitting around, getting a heat stroke.”
“Stop whining,” Little Steven growled. “At least you' re sitting in the shade for a change. It could be worse you know.”
“How?” Fred asked. He was unhappy with himself and the whole world.
Little Steven didn't answer his young, inexperienced partner immediately, but slowly turned his head to look at him. When Fred finally had the courage to look up he was taken aback by the coldness in Little Stevens eyes. “You could be dead.”
Fred shivered and he quickly cast down his eyes, trying very hard to keep his composure and fighting his instincts that told him to jump up and run while had the chance. When he swallowed, he could taste bile in the back of his throat. Again, he wondered how he had ever managed to get involved with Joe Michaels. Even though his childhood had been miserable and he ran away from home to escape his drunk and violent father, he had always managed to stay away from serious criminal activities. A poke in his side woke Fred up from his musings and startled he looked at Little Steven, who cast him an inquisitive glare.
“Are you ready?”
Suddenly, Fred felt very nervous. “For what?”
“Don't you ever listen?” It was obvious Little Steven was more than a little aggravated. “What did Joe tell us to do? Cause some distraction and make sure that blonde will come over to visit her dad's precious resort. Right?”
Fred could only nod, knowing that whatever Little Steven had in mind wouldn't be very appealing to him.
“I worked out a plan. It's very simple and effective.” Little Steven paused, giving Fred the chance to ponder over his words. The inevitable question followed soon.
“What's the plan?”
“Old fashioned and effective.” Little Steven grinned. “Robbery.”
Fred, whose face was already pale, almost turned green after hearing those words. “H…how?”
“Simple, we walk in, push our guns under the nose of whoever is behind the desk and demand money. Even you can remember a concept like that, Freddie boy.” Little Steven grinned. “Come on. Show time.” He opened the door of the car and unfolded his bulky body, leisurely stretching his muscles, stiff from sitting in the car. Fred had no other choice than following his experienced partner, trying not to look anxious. He tried to ban the image of his younger sister from his mind.
* * *
Brian was reaching for the phone to ask Miriam to bring him back some fruit after her lunch break when he saw two men approaching. An older, big man, who carried himself with a lot of confidence and a younger one, a teenager who didn't seem to be at ease, since he nervously kept looking around.
Brian smiled. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. How may I help you?”
The older man casually leaned against the counter, curiously looking around. “This is a nice place,” he said. “I bet there are no vacancies?”
“If you’re interested in a room, I’ll see if there's anything available now.” Brian was polite, but his feeling of unease was growing. There was something about the man that made him suspicious.
“Sure sounds like you’re busy.” Little Steven chuckled. “That’s a beautiful thing. I like flourishing businesses.”
Brian couldn't help but frown and he shot the man a puzzled look.
“Do you see this jacket?” Little Steven asked, pointing at his chest.
“Um...yes, sir, I do,” Brian hesitantly answered. He was not sure how to handle the situation. Something was off. He glanced at the phone, calculating how long it would take him to reach it when needed.
“Don't even think about it.” Little Steven was still smiling. “See, inside the pocket of this jacket there's a gun.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying the look of shock on Brian’s face. “In fact, right at this moment it's pointed at your chest. And guess what? My finger’s on the trigger.”
Brian felt his mouth go dry and his eyes nervously traveled from Little Steven to Fred, who was silently standing next to his partner with his hands inside his pockets.
“W... what do you want?” Brian asked, after clearing his throat.
“What do you think? Money, of course. I know this place is loaded and I guess there's a safe somewhere, so...why don't you take us there?”
Brian's eyes scanned the lobby. He was glad most of the guests were out for the day, or having lunch. There were only a fe
w people around, too far away to notice there was anything wrong, but too close in case the man in front of him would use the gun he claimed he had.
“I... I have to call one of my coworkers to come down and—”
“No, you don't,” Little Steven interrupted. “It won't take long. Besides, I know you have a cute little sign to place on this desk. What does it say? 'Be back in minute'?”
“The...the safe is upstairs, in the manager's office,” Brian explained.
“Great, let's go and get this over with. I'm sure you' re ready for lunch. I'm starving myself.” Little Steven grinned and jerked his head in the direction of the stairs. “Lead the way.”
* * *
Lucy yawned and looked at her watch. She was pleased to see it was almost time for lunch. She had spent the morning sorting out files for one of the attorneys, helping him with some needed research on one of his new cases. Although Lucy grew up in the middle of nature and wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty, she hated dust. It always made her sneeze and she wasn't pleased with her watery eyes and runny nose. But she had not complained, knowing Cameron really needed the files. Besides, knowing her dislike for digging through old files he had promised her lunch afterwards. Lucy grinned and mentally she went through a list of expensive restaurants, determined to make the most of it. It didn't happen often that one of her bosses was in such a generous mood. When the phone rang, she frowned and debated not answering it, but since Cameron had not shown up yet and her job description was quite clear about her duties, she decided to answer it anyway.
“Thank you for calling Johnson, Goldman and O' Connor. This is Lucy McDonnell speaking. How may I help you?”
“Lucy? It's me,” a familiar voice sounded.
“Hey, Mom.” Lucy smiled. “What's up? You sound tired. How's the Grinch?”
“I...um...I... your father and I had an argument, and... I....I walked out.”