by Ben Follows
51
Ricky parked underneath the staircase at the back of the motel and turned off the car. The rain continued to beat down on them. It wasn't slowing. If anything, the rain seemed to be getting worse.
Ricky lifted Marcus into the wheelchair.
Marcus didn't struggle. He didn't see the point.
Ricky pulled him to the second floor, grunting as he pulled the wheelchair up each step.
When they got to the top, Ricky wiped the sweat off his brow and turned the wheelchair around. He pushed Marcus into the alcove at the end of the hallway and turned left to Room 25.
He unlocked the door and pushed Marcus inside. He left Marcus in the middle of the empty room and walked to the door.
“There's someone I want you to meet," said Ricky. "I’ll be back in just a minute.”
Marcus looked out through the windows along the wall. He stared at the rain coming down in the alleyway outside the window.
He rolled himself over to the phone and grabbed the receiver. There was no dial tone.
The door opened and closed. Marcus didn't look back.
“Hi, Dad,” said the newcomer.
Marcus froze, swallowing. His eyes went wide.
The newcomer walked in front of him.
Marcus looked up, his eyes wide.
Danielle stood before him. She looked down at him, smiling. She was covered in bruises and cuts, and one of her arms was in a sling.
“Danielle?" he said in disbelief.
“I’m here,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I’m here, Dad."
She leaned over and hugged him tight. Her head nestled in his shoulder.
Marcus hugged her back. He pulled her close to him and tried to make that single moment last for an eternity.
“Danielle,” he said. “Why are you here?”
Danielle pulled back and knelt in front of him so they were eye to eye. She put her hands on his shoulders.
“I got away from the Shembly’s,” said Danielle, wiping away her tears. “I jumped from their car. That's where my injuries came from. I always knew they couldn’t be my real parents. I remembered you and mom. You’re my real father. The Shembly’s told me I was imagining it, but I knew the truth. I remember the night I was taken. It’s haunted me. I’m so glad you’re here.” She fell against him. “I’m so sorry. Ricky picked me up and offered to give me a drive. If I had known who he was I would never have gotten in the car. I'm so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” said Marcus, patting her on the back as she sobbed into his chest.
Danielle looked up at him. “Ricky wanted me to tell you something.”
“What?”
Danielle looked up at him. “Something about giving him the name of the accountant. I don't know what that means. He said something about money. Just pay him, Dad, and he’ll let us go.”
Marcus shook his head, although hearing her call him "Dad" was ripping his heart from his chest.
“You don’t know Ricky like I do," he said. "He has no intention of letting us go.”
“You don’t understand," said Danielle. "He’s going to kill us. Tell him the name of the accountant. I beg you.”
Marcus stared past her, into the rain. He swallowed, all his strength sapped by the presence of the daughter he had given up for dead.
"Okay," he said, swallowing.
Danielle pulled him into a hug. The wheelchair rolled back a few feet. “What’s the name? I’ll tell him.”
Marcus stared into her eyes, at her smile. At that moment, he would have done anything for her.
“Alan Giordano," he said.
“Thank you. We can get back to the way things are supposed to be. We can be a family again.”
She hugged him again, then walked past him toward the door.
“Wait,” said Marcus, turning the wheelchair around in jerking, uneven, movements. “Don’t you want to stay and catch up?”
“I’m sorry,” said Danielle, "Ricky said he would hurt me if I took any longer than I had to.”
Marcus nodded. “Please, come back soon."
Danielle was at the door, and she looked back and smiled at him through her cuts and bruises. “I will, Dad.”
Danielle knocked on the door. Marcus caught the glint of something on her hand, a ring.
“You’re married?” he said.
She waved her hand in the air. “I'm engaged. Maybe someday you’ll get to meet him.
The door opened. Ricky took Danielle by the shoulder and led her out of the room, closing it behind him and leaving Marcus alone.
Marcus smiled. Somehow, Danielle was back in his life, and, for that fleeting moment, it was enough.
52
Todd pushed his head into the pillow and stared out the window.
The door to room 26 opened. He looked back at Danielle and Ricky as they walked into the room and locked the door.
Ricky’s gun was prominently displayed underneath his shirt.
“Marcus is buying it," said Danielle, walking over to the desk, ignoring Todd completely. “That was disgusting. I don’t want to touch him again.”
“Well,” said Ricky, sitting at the desk and opening his laptop, “it all depends on the accountant.” He typed something, then looked over his shoulder. “How’s it going, Todd?”
Todd looked away.
“That’s fine,” said Ricky. “Danielle thinks we should talk more. You know, get to know each other. I think it's a great idea."
Todd remained in the same position.
“Fine, whatever. I got the number,” said Ricky, taking out his phone. “I’ll call him.”
Danielle leaned over Ricky’s shoulder to see the screen.
Ricky held the phone to his ear. “Hello,” he said, “Mr. Giordano. It’s so nice to speak with you. I’m calling in regards to an account opened by Angela Weber. Unfortunately, she has passed away due to unforeseen circumstances and I need to access the account.“
He listened.
“My name is Rick Genero."
He paused. A vein appeared in the back of his neck.
“Marcus is under my care, and he is unable to make this call himself due to the same accident that took Mrs. Weber’s life.” His face turned a shade of red as he listened. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “That won’t be possible. He is currently under my care."
He listened.
"That’s fine, I understand."
He listened again.
"Thank you. I’ll be in touch with Marcus.”
Ricky ended the call. Danielle put a hand on his shoulder. Ricky shrugged it off.
He stood and paced back and forth across the room, past where Todd was lying.
“What?” said Danielle.
Ricky could barely speak he was so consumed with rage. He said, “Marcus has to call Giordano, and Giordano has to be certain Marcus isn’t under any kind of duress before sending the money to an external account."
Danielle frowned. “What if he doesn’t believe it?”
Ricky shrugged. “Then he holds onto it indefinitely. When Marcus is confirmed dead he will donate it to the charities Angela listed.”
Danielle fell into a chair while Ricky continued to pace the room. He passed within inches of Todd's face.
Danielle looked up at him. “We need to seriously consider the Shembly option.”
Ricky shook his head. “It’s too risky. This was supposed to be easy. We just get the money from the accountant and everything is easy.”
“We always knew it was an option. In my opinion, it's the preferable option.”
“It’s only a hundred grand, compared to a million. We need to use Marcus.”
Danielle wagged a finger at him. “You made me a promise."
Ricky stopped and look at her. "I'll do it."
"Why not get the ransom at the same time?"
Ricky accelerated his pacing. "It adds an unnecessary wrinkle."
Todd gathered his legs underneath him like a cougar waiting to strike.
>
Just as Ricky passed him by, he launched himself off the bed.
He grabbed onto Ricky's legs and pulled them together as hard as he could.
Ricky pitched forward, taken out at the knees, and fell toward the wall.
Ricky spun and got an arm in front of him before he made contact. His arm made a dent in the drywall.
He looked back at Todd, scrambling to get on top of him.
Both lunged for the gun at Ricky’s waist, which wasn't secured.
Todd got there first. He pulled the gun from the holster and pointed it at Ricky.
Ricky looked up at his own gun, hands raised.
“Todd,” he said. “You need to think about this."
“I’m leaving,” said Todd. “I hope you two have a nice life together.”
Ricky smirked. "You're not going anywhere."
A shadow fell over Todd.
He turned to see the porcelain lamp flying through the air, directly at his face.
53
Marcus was sitting in front of the window, looking through the rain.
It did nothing to dampen his mood. He grinned. He had heard some noises and commotions from across the hall a moment earlier, but hadn't thought much of it.
The door to room 25 opened.
Marcus turned his wheelchair around to see Danielle enter the room with Ricky behind her. Ricky closed the door and stood just inside.
Danielle looked worse than before. Tears rolled down her face. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing her face in his shoulder.
“He hit me,” she said through her tears. “Ricky beat me because he couldn’t get the money from the accountant. Do what he says, please.”
Marcus patted her on the back and stared at Ricky, trying to get all his fatherly rage in a single glare. He supposed that was what the crash from the neighboring room was.
Ricky had a few bruises around his eyes and he rubbed his arm. It seemed as though Danielle had fought back.
“What do you need me to do?” said Marcus.
Ricky took out his cell phone and held it out.
Danielle stepped back from Marcus. He took the phone and waited for an explanation.
“Call the accountant,” said Ricky. “His number is already punched in. Tell him you're under my care and unable to take care of yourself. Tell him to transfer the money to this account.”
He handed Marcus a piece of paper with a long number on it.
“What’s this?” said Marcus, picking up the piece of paper.
“It's a Swiss bank account. I want a million dollars in it by tomorrow.”
Marcus looked at the number. “If I do that, you’ll let me and Danielle go?"
Ricky shrugged. “You’ll have held up your side of the bargain. I always make good on my deals.”
Marcus looked from Danielle to Ricky. He took a deep breath and hit call.
It rang a few times before a voice answered.
“This is Alan Giordano,” it said.
“Alan, my name is Marcus Devereaux," he said. "My name is on an account under your control which was set up by Angela Weber.”
“It's nice to finally make your acquaintance, Mr. Devereaux," said Giordano. "I received a call earlier today concerning the same account. It was from a man named Rick Genaro claiming to be your caretaker.”
“That's correct.”
“I'm sorry to hear that Miss Weber has passed on. That is tragic. My records put her at 39 years old. That is far too young.”
Marcus stared at Ricky, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Mr. Devereaux? Are you still there?”
“Do you mind holding for a moment?”
“Yes, of course. I didn’t intend to upset you. Just wanted to offer my condolences.”
Marcus put the accountant on hold, then looked up at Ricky.
“He said Angela is dead.”
Ricky tilted his head to one side and pursed his lips, as though cursing himself for making a mistake.
“Yes,” he said. "That's true."
“Why?”
Ricky shrugged. “She wanted to protect you. Right until the end, that moron wanted to protect you.”
Marcus shook his head in disbelief. “Why did you kill her?”
“Dad," said Danielle, grabbing his shoulder, "does it matter? This is about you and me getting out of here. Angela lied and manipulated you for eleven years. Why would you care?”
Marcus nodded, staring at the floor. Despite all she had done, Angela had been his only companion for a decade, and her absence left a hole inside him.
He sighed and took the call off hold.
“Sorry about that. I’m ready to continue.”
“Great,” said Giordano. “I’ve got a few security questions Mrs. Weber set up in case you ever called. If you can just answer those then we can get into the details.”
He nodded, although he knew Giordano couldn't see him. “Let’s hear them.”
“What is your date of birth?”
“July 12, 1974.”
“What is the highest ranking in the military you achieved?”
“Private.”
“What is your favorite animal?”
He smiled at the memory. “A chimpanzee.”
“Alright. We just have one more questions Mr. Devereaux. What is your daughter’s name?”
Marcus looked up at Danielle and Ricky. They stared at him expectantly. Ricky's arms were crossed and he tapped his foot.
“My daughter’s name?” he said.
“Yes,” said Giordano. “That’s the last question.”
He swallowed, unable to keep a smile from his face. “My daughter’s name is Danielle.”
Danielle smiled back at him.
“That’s great, Mr. Devereaux. The account balance is $996, 273. It's just under a million dollars. What would you like done with it?”
“I’d like to transfer the entire amount to another account. I have the transfer number here.”
“Alright. If you don’t mind, I need to ask you a few questions to make sure that this transfer isn’t being made under any duress. This is due to such a large sum being moved. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course.” Marcus looked up at Ricky. “I'd like to get this done quickly.”
Giordano grunted. “Honestly, it's mostly for legal reasons. You know, making sure I don’t get a bunch of federal agents breathing down my neck. Give me an e-mail address. I’ll send you the form. You can sign it online and send it back to me. Call me back once you've done so.”
Marcus relayed the information to Ricky, who supplied an e-mail address.
They hung up the call.
Moments later they were looking at a ten-page document on Ricky’s phone. Marcus signed his name with his finger in the signature box before sending it back to Giordano.
They called Giordano back.
“I've got it here in my hands," said Giordano. "It might take a few days but there won’t be any issues with the transfer. Can you read me the number?”
Marcus looked up at Danielle. She nodded. The hand of her uninjured arm covered her mouth.
Ricky stood a few feet away, hand on his gun.
Marcus picked up the small piece of paper. “The number is zero-zero-seven-six— “
“Got it.”
“—two-zero-one-one— “
“Okay.”
“six-two-four-eight— “
“Okay.”
Marcus paused. Five numbers remained in the bank account number.
“Go on,” said Ricky, pulling the gun partway from the holster. “Finish the number.”
“Mr. Devereaux,” said Giordano. “I need five more numbers, do you have them?”
“I’ve got them.” He looked back down at the last five digits.
He looked up at Danielle and Ricky, standing a few feet away from one another.
Something was bothering him, something that had been bothering him for hours that he hadn't been a
ble to put his finger on.
As he looked from the hand covering Danielle's mouth to the hand lifting holding Ricky's gun, he realized what it was.
On each of their hands was a ring. The rings weren't big or flashy, but they were unmistakably identical.
“Come on,” said Danielle, “just tell him the numbers.”
Marcus’s stared at the rings.
He let out a deep sigh. “Alan, are you still there?”
“I’m here," said the accountant. "Do you have the last five numbers?”
Marcus looked into Ricky's eyes.
Ricky frowned.
“I’m being held captive by Ricky Genero," said Marcus. "Transfer the money to the charities Angela told you about.”
54
He ended the call before Giordano could say anything, his eyes still locked on Ricky’s.
Danielle stood a few feet away, her brow furrowing. “Dad! What the hell did you do? We’re going to die.”
“You’re engaged to him," said Marcus. "You’re working together.”
Ricky screamed and lunged toward Marcus. He raised his leg in the air and kicked Marcus in the chest.
Marcus and his wheelchair flew backwards. The wheelchair hit a lip in the carpet and launched him into the windows.
The glass shook and sent water droplets flying as he made contact. He slumped onto the floor, gasping in pain and feeling blood spread across his hair at the point of contact.
Ricky marched toward him, sliding a new clip into his handgun.
Danielle stood a few feet back, leaning against the desk, casually watching the scene play out in front of her as though it were a movie.
Marcus regained his breath and pushed himself up onto his elbows. He watched Ricky's reflection in the rain covered window as his captor marched toward him.
Ricky stopped a few feet behind him and pointed the gun at Marcus’s head. He breathed through his teeth. His face was beet red.
“Sweetie,” said Danielle, walking up behind him. She put a hand on Ricky’s shoulder without looking at Marcus. “People will hear a gunshot.”
“No one's here," said Ricky. "I checked. There’s only four rooms occupied in this motel, all on the other side of the hotel. No one called anyone when you hit Todd with that lamp. The rain will cover the sound.”