Secret Society

by Stuart R. West

  Cody shrugged. “During Christmas, they ride us hard. You know the rules—neither snow, nor rain, nor…” Cody could never remember the full saying, something he needed to brush up on. Instead, he flashed a winning smile.

  “Who’d you say you were with?”

  “Um, Mercury Delivery.” Cody bobbed his chin down at the shirt’s insignia.

  “Who’s the package from?”

  “Travis Borgenstein.”

  “Bergenstein?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. Says right here on the box.”

  “Okay, thank you. Just leave it on the stoop, please.”

  Hooked. Now to reel her in. “I, uh, can’t do that, ma’am. It’s against regulations. Since it was shipped this morning… well, the rules are you gotta’ sign for it.”

  “Okay, just a minute, please.” She closed the door. The chain rattled loose. He pulled out the tranquillizer gun from the small of his back.

  The door opened on a green-eyed angel, back-lit by muted light. “Sorry, you can’t be too careful these days.”

  She hopped back as Cody shoved his way inside. Clutching the top of her robe, she pulled it tight around her throat. “I don’t have any money!” Her lower lip trembled, her voice unsteady.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t take any money.” With his gun still hidden in his hand, he took a step toward her. Gave her another broad smile.

  I’m going to enjoy this.

  Then he froze…

  * * *

  Leon jerked the car into the driveway, his two left tires planted in Rachel’s yard. Two red-eyed demonic taillights disappeared down the road. Cody’s green, goddamned van.

  Too late. I’m too late…

  Dashing across the yard, he screamed out Rachel’s name. His heart hammered, blood pounding in his ears, a percussive hell.

  “Rachel!” He knocked at the door until his knuckles numbed. The doorknob wouldn’t twist. “Rachel, open up! It’s Owen!” Three steps back and shoulder braced, he prepared to break in. Abruptly, the door yanked back.

  Rachel, colorless and frightened, stood in front of him. “Owen?” Her mouth twisted into an anguished oval.

  Leon swallowed hard, his throat dry and ravaged. “Rachel? Are… you all right?”

  “Owen, what’s going on? Goddamn it, tell me!” She fell into his arms, pulled an about-face, and pushed away. When he reached out for her, she stopped him with an upheld hand. She retreated into the house, collapsing on the sofa.

  Leon followed her in. “Rachel, listen to me. Listen carefully—”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Rachel, did someone come by here? Someone young, blond-haired…muscular?”

  A corner of her mouth curled, not a smile at all. Brutal bitterness. “Oh, I see. Was that your ‘friend,’ Owen?”

  “Tell me, Rachel. Was he here?”

  “Yes! You just missed him. Who is he, Owen?”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “Go to Hell!”

  “Rachel, you may be in danger. I need you to tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t really give a damn what you need. I need answers from you!”

  “Rachel, I don’t—”

  “Yeah, just what I thought. Just like Travis. You want it your way, the only way, right? Fine. This kid…came here, pretending to be a deliveryman. He pushed his way in…acted like he was going to…rape me. Rape me!”

  “What…what happened next?”

  “He said ‘sorry’ and…left.”

  Leon thought he misheard her. Or worse, wondered what Cody’s new game was. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Tell me about it. None of this makes any damn sense.”

  “Think, Rachel. This is important. What happened to make him leave? Anything?”

  “Nothing. Milo came in and—”

  “Milo?” Behind him, a light patter clicked over the kitchen linoleum. A sickly dog hobbled through the living room. It dropped onto the floor with a small grunt, legs splayed out.

  Rachel gestured toward the dog. “Travis’s dog. One of his friends called me. Said Milo was at the pound. Since he and I were both…abused by Travis…I thought I’d take him in.”

  “So this kid acted like he was going to attack you then…saw the dog…and left? Did Milo growl? Attack him?”

  Rachel snorted. “Look at him, Owen. He can barely walk!”

  “And he said…‘sorry’?”

  “You heard me. My turn…who is he?”

  Leon sat on the edge of the sofa, uncertain if he’d be welcome. He felt light-headed, needed time to think. More than anything, Rachel’s safety came first. No other way, he had to tell her the truth. Yet she couldn’t know what he was, what he did. “I don’t know much about him. His name’s Cody. He’s been…messing with me.”

  “‘Messing’ with you? ‘Messing’ with you how?”

  “He’s been harassing me. Calling the police and spreading lies about me.”

  “What kind of lies?”

  “You know the missing accountant? John Smeltzer?” Rachel nodded her head with fiery determination—ready to listen, unable to forgive. “This kid called his wife…and told her I was the last one to see him at a bar.”

  “Were you, Owen? Were you the last one to see him?” She shifted, moving further away.

  “Rachel, no. No! I’ve never even met him. And I don’t go to bars.”

  “I don’t know what to believe any more...”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “And so…that’s why Detective Sidarski knows you? Because of some phone calls this kid made? This is insane! Why would he do this, Owen?”

  “I’m not sure. I don’t know this Cody. I don’t know why he chose me. I just know he’s dangerous. He’s…crazy.”

  “You’re telling me some kid—a kid you’ve never even met—called the police and told them you’re responsible for the missing accountant? Why, Owen? Tell me the truth for once. And why did he come to my house?”

  “Rachel, I know this sounds crazy. It is crazy. But I’ve told you all I know. He picked me for some reason—maybe just at random. He’s trying to destroy my life. And everything I value.” Leon desperately wanted to tell Rachel how much he valued her. The new harshness in her eyes told him he’d never get the chance. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’ve been drawn into this.”

  “Owen…I don’t get any of this…” She stared at the floor, unblinking, unemotional.

  “I don’t either. Not really.”

  “I don’t believe you. Nothing makes sense.”

  “I understand, but please, whatever you choose to believe…be careful. Be very careful. Cody’s dangerous.”

  “What are you not telling me about him?”

  “I think he might’ve had something to do with the missing accountant. Do not open the door for him again. Call the police if you want to, just, please, be careful.”

  “I need sleep. I need to think this through. First, the whole Travis thing; then he disappears…and now, this. I’m confused…I don’t trust you—”

  “I know, Rachel, and I’m sorry for—”

  “Quit apologizing. It means nothing to me when I’m not even sure what you’re apologizing for. I trusted you! You know how hard that was for me? I began to have feelings for you.”

  “I…have feelings for you, too.”

  “How dare you? You don’t lie to people you care about. I don’t want to hear any more of your lies!”

  The finality of her words hurt the most. She wouldn’t listen to him; nothing could change her mind. Yet there was one final thing he had to tell her. No matter how painful the outcome. “Rachel, you need to know whatever happened to Travis…I had absolutely nothing to do with it.”

  “What are you saying?” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “What do you know? Tell me!”

  “I don’t know anything about Travis. It’s just…maybe Cody—” Leon lowered his voice and looked away.

  “What?”

 
“It’s just a feeling I have. But I had nothing to do with it—”

  Rachel jumped to her feet, forging a steely resolve despite everything. “I think you better leave. I don’t believe anything you say any more. And you’re beginning to scare me.”

  “Rachel—”

  “Get out. Now!”

  “I’m sorry—” Leon stood and faced her.

  “Get out now before I call the police.”

  He stepped outside and turned. “I love—” The door slammed shut before he could finish the words he thought he’d never say. Leon stared at the shut door, the coffin lid burying his chance at a life of happiness. In his car, he paid his respects, mourning the loss of what could have been.

  * * *

  A cool numbness enveloped Leon. The night air took on a chill, the perfect companion. Part of him welcomed this deadening sensation after the past week’s emotional roller coaster. For the first time in days, Leon had clarity of mind. No impossible future dreams clouded his thoughts.

  Cody and LMI destroyed his life. Now it was time to return the favor. Simple, and no doubts hindered him.

  “Cody,” he said into the phone, “you should see your van.” Leon hung up before Cody launched into another tiresome rant. He waited in the shadows of the awning, hypodermic needle poised.

  Less than a minute later, the apartment building door cracked back. Cody stormed down the stairs. While working a hoodie over his head, he raced toward his van. Leon stepped out of hiding and plunged the needle into Cody’s neck. Cody swooned and crumpled to the pavement, a dead man’s curtsy. As Leon dragged Cody by his legs, he stumbled over a speed bump. He took a deep breath and ran over the speed bump, ensuring Cody’s head thumped down hard. Service with a smile.

  * * *

  Consciousness shoved Cody. Streetlights blurred and circled like pinwheels. His arms and legs weighed heavier than sandbags. Rope bit into his wrists. Then he noticed Garber sitting next to him in the car.

  “What…the fuck?” mumbled Cody, his lips thick and uncooperative. “You…drugged me.” He lashed out at the glove box with a kick. “Not right, man. Ain’t cool.”

  “Shut up, Cody.” Garber shot a hand out, a pink parade trailing behind it. Another prick to Cody’s neck followed. “How’s that for ‘cool’?”

  “Ain’t cool…” Cody swam back into darkness.

  * * *

  The Storage ‘R Us lot appeared darker, emptier than usual. Or maybe it was just how Leon felt.

  He pushed Cody down onto the floorboard, probably an unnecessary precaution. With only one security camera located at the entryway, this particular storage company made Leon’s work easier.

  Some time back, LMI had offered to set Leon up with a storage unit in Barton, but even then, his survival instinct kicked him in the gut. He thought it best to maintain some secrets from LMI. As far as he knew (not much these days), LMI remained unaware of his personal storage shelter.

  After Leon punched in his code, the electronic fence raised. He stopped at the orange garage door in the last row, a place of fond memories. Cody stirred once, snorting. Still, Leon had time before the drug wore off.

  He left the car and looked out over his city. Listening to the night had become one of his rituals before completing projects; it comforted him, a cleansing experience. Down by the highway, a train chugged, singing a lonely song. Very few travelers slashed across the highway, most everyone home in bed. While the city slept, Leon’s workday had just begun.

  The garage door roared open on the rails, exposing a gaping orange mouth that had devoured many projects. Leon hauled Cody into the unit and propped him up into a chair. He flipped on the single bulb, tapped it with a finger. The bulb swung, lighting Cody before casting him back into shadows.

  After preparing another hypodermic, Leon placed it on a tray. Sitting in a folding chair across from Cody, he waited—something he usually never did with projects. This week had been full of new experiences.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” said Leon.

  Cody jolted his chin up, only to have it sag back against his chest. “Asshole…”

  “No need for name-calling. Not after all we’ve been through together.”

  “Uncool…”

  Leon wanted to punch Cody, but he settled for a consolatory laugh. “Oh, really? What about everything you’ve pulled on me? You think that’s ‘uncool’?”

  “You…drugged me. Not right, yo.”

  “I see. And you’ve been playing strictly by the rules. Framing me for two projects I had nothing to do with. Going after someone I care about.”

  Cody shook his head, his mop of hair drooping over his forehead like kudzu off a tree. “Yeah, well, you don’t need to worry about the girl no more.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t matter. I’m gonna’ leave her alone. She’s safe from me.”

  “Tell me why. You haven’t exactly earned my trust.”

  “I’ve got my reasons. I won’t hurt her. Going after her was a mistake.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Well, believe it!” Cody was shaking the dose off faster than Leon thought possible. “My word goes.”

  “And you’re such a man of honor. You’ve proven it time and again.”

  “If I say somethin’, then, yeah, my word is my honor. Dick!” Cody wrestled his shoulders back and forth, fighting against his restraints. “What do you want?”

  “It’s long past time we had a chat, Cody.”

  “This is the way you wanna talk, bitch?”

  “You’re not the easiest guy to talk to.”

  “I got nothin’ to say to you.”

  “Shut up and listen for a while.” Leon grabbed the hypodermic, brandishing it with delight. Cody clamped his mouth shut, a satisfying response. It’d been some time since Leon felt in control of a situation. “Okay, calm, now? LMI has been using you. They’re trying to get us to do their dirty work for them. They want to pit us against each other. Get us to take each other out.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “Think so? Have you talked to Wyngarden lately?”

  “Whaddaya’ mean?”

  “You’ve been black marked by LMI. So have I. I’m sure Wyngarden isn’t taking your calls.” Cody’s dumbfounded look confirmed Leon’s suspicions. Although, truth be told, Leon had only witnessed two of Cody’s expressions—dumbfounded and insane rage.

  “I don’t… What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking from personal experience. For some unknown reason, LMI’s black marked me. Wyngarden stopped taking my calls. Now, they’ve sent someone to kill us since your idiocy forced their hands.”

  “I’m no idiot!”

  “Shut up.” Leon rolled the needle between his fingers, admiring it like a work of art. “Thanks to your fumbling the ball and failing to get rid of me, LMI has sent out professional killers to kill both of us. ‘Business process outsourcers.’”

  Cody furrowed his brow, confusion in his eyes.

  “Cody, stay with me! Do you understand this?”

  “You’re bullshitting me, Garber. Why would LMI want to get rid of me? It’s you they want gone! What the hell’s a ‘black mark’ anyway?”

  “All in good time.” Leon stood and leaned over him. “Where’s your phone?”

  “What the fuck you want with my phone?”

  “Just humor me.” He patted down Cody’s hoodie pockets, came up empty. “Where is it? Ah!” Leon pinched the phone out of Cody’s jeans. “Okay, let’s start by calling Wyngarden.” After entering the numbers, Leon set the phone on speaker. As soon as the now familiar LMI automatic answering system kicked in, Leon snapped the phone shut.

  “Okay, so what? Don’t mean nothin’. They’re just not there.”

  “Have they ever not been there to answer the phone?” Leon gave into temptation and swatted Cody’s head. It felt so cathartic he did it again for good measure.

  “Dammit!”

  “Deal with it. They’re obvious
ly not taking your calls.”

  With a wet-sounding snort, Cody drew up phlegm and spat onto the floor. “Don’t mean nothin’!”

  “You know Skeeter?”

  “Yeah, I’ve talked to him. What about him?”

  “For fun, let’s call him.”

  It took a few seconds for Skeeter to deliver his customary greeting. When he finally did, he sounded timid, unsure. “Telephone.”

  “Yo, Skeeter, it’s Cody Spangler.”

  Another long pause spoke volumes. “Sorry, Spangler. Can’t talk to you. Don’t call again.”

  Leon whispered, “Ask him if you’re black marked. Go on, do it.”

  “Dude, am I black marked or what?” The line went silent. “Goddamn it!”

  Leon dropped the phone to the floor. “Do you believe me now, Cody?”

  “He didn’t say I was black marked—”

  “No, he hung up. Of course he’s not going to tell you. He’s worried about his own safety. Fact is, we’re both black marked. And we’re both in trouble.”

  “I don’t get this shit! Tell me what a black mark is.”

  “From what I understand, an operative’s black marked when LMI has no more use for them. You’re either a nuisance, too careless for them to handle, or you know something they consider dangerous.”

  “I don’t know jack!”

  “Understatement. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to know either. Apparently, I know something. And now, thanks to you—and LMI—we’re both being hunted. Not only by LMI, but the police are going to be coming for us, as well.”

  “I’m the Denver Decapitator! Wyngarden wants me on his team.”

  Leon sighed, wondering about the futility in trying to talk sense into this idiot. Especially given the limited time. “Let me ask you something. How much did Wyngarden charge you for LMI’s services?”

  “Big money! And I’m flush with cash.”

  “How much?”

  “Fifty large, yo!”

  “And you really think that’s enough money to finance everything they promise on a yearly basis? Get real. They charge me over half a million a year.”