Bring everything back to how it was before.
“Five till, Jessica…” Donahue’s voice was cluttered with digital debris, an electronic mess. “We’re having some real –” stop “ – tree branches – ” stop “ – might not show up.”
“Screw it,” Jessica said, feigning frustration. “You’re right. Let’s pack it in.”
“Don’t copy.”
“I said we’re done.”
“Copy that.”
“I’ll be down in ten minutes.”
“Got it. I’m calling in the –” His voice died in Jessica’s ear.
And there it was.
She slipped on her sneakers and laced up. Took another look around the room. A glorious waste of two hundred fifty dollars, just as she had found it. Sneaking away in the aftermath of a shameful one night stand.
Jessica picked up her book bag, slipped the flash drive into her pocket.
Heading for the exit as the clock struck twelve.
Silence cracked by three thunderous knocks at the door.
Jessica held perfectly still. Brought her chin down to her chest and whispered, “Donahue?”
No answer in her ear piece.
Six more knocks, louder this time.
Followed by the frantic cry of a familiar voice. “Jessica! Jessica, are you all right?”
It was Malik.
He continued to pound against the door. Out of breath, frightened. “Jessica! Jessica! Please, Jessica, answer!”
Jessica stepped closer. “Malik?”
“Jessica?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, thank God…”
She put her eye to the peephole. Saw Malik’s face distorted through the fisheye. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you all right, Jessica?”
“I’m fine.”
“We need to get out of here, right now.”
“Is that it?” Jessica asked. “Or do you need to get in?”
“Jessica?”
She hadn’t heard anything from Donahue, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear her. She tucked her chin in once more with a steady whisper. “If you can hear me, I’m fine. Malik is here, and I’m letting him in. Do not move in until I give the word.”
She opened the door and grabbed a hold of Malik’s Pantheon jersey. It was damp with sweat, almost slipping through her fingers as Jessica pulled him in. She left the door cracked. Hallway light dimly revealing the depths of her room.
Malik didn’t seem to notice. He stood by the bed, glancing around with paranoid eyes, a possible ambush coming at him from every corner. “Jessica, I need you to listen to me –”
“I know, Malik.”
“What?”
“I know.” Jessica crossed her arms over her abdomen, careful not to muffle the microphone. “I know everything.”
Malik continued to breath heavily. Head askew, as though listening for phantoms flying just outside the windows. “What?”
“I know about what Jason Castle did to your mother. I know about Dr. Lazenby and the car accident, the failed lawsuit. I know about the Chloroform, how it went missing –”
“Jessica, wait.” Malik held his hands out, fingers trembling. “It’s not what you think.”
“I know about your mother and Davenport. I know about the affair, I read the letter myself… I know you found the photographs. You know the ones I’m talking about. I know you found them.”
“No, don’t,” Malik pleaded, eyes shimmering in the murky light. “You have to understand what my mother has been through, what those men did to her. What Clarence did to me.”
“I know exactly what he did to you, and I know exactly what you did to him –”
“She couldn’t help herself, she had to do something –”
“What she had to do was…” Jessica trailed off. Sensed their confrontation drifting from the goal line. “Wait. What are you talking about?”
Malik tilted his head again, equally confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh my God…” Jessica reached down, unconsciously touching the flash drive through her sweats. “You just said she.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You said she couldn’t help herself, that she had to do something –”
“I meant me.” Malik licked his lips. “It was me, Jessica.”
“It was Patricia, wasn’t it?”
“No. Me. It was me the whole time –”
“She was going to break off the affair with Davenport…” The collection of shapes began to coalesce, adhering like drops of liquid mercury. “You found the letter February sixteenth, a letter she had always planned to send. But before she could, she found his stash of pictures. Somewhere in the back of her head, she knew what Davenport and Glen Roberts had done to you. Maybe something you said in your sleep, all those months on those happy pills. She didn’t want that kind of shame brought on you, couldn’t go to the police until she’d found the pictures they had taken of her little boy. And she couldn’t find those pictures unless she kept on seeing Davenport –”
“Jessica, stop –”
“Hell, she never planned on going to the police,” she pressed ahead. “She kept sleeping with him. Going over to his house as an undercover lover. Took whatever opportunity she could to root through the pictures, God knows what she must have seen there. She finally found the pictures and hid them along with the letter. When you wrote in your journal that you found the photographs, you meant you found them in her special hiding place.”
“You read my journal,” Malik said, voice flattening.
“You knew she’d raided your stash. Taken your chloroform while looking for anything to feed her addiction. Jason Castle was just a practice run. You probably didn’t even suspect your mom until Davenport was attacked. And when Dr. Lazenby surfaced on the same day your mother arrived late for her own Fourth of July party… That’s what you’re doing here. You read the most recent Angry Jonny letter in the paper, saw that it had been mailed from Wilmington. It couldn’t have been too hard for you to crack the code, you know a thing or two about sending anonymous letters –”
Malik’s fingers curled into fists. “Jessica, you need to shut up. Now.”
“You never had anything to do with it, Malik. You wrote the first Angry Jonny letter to help me. To get my internship back. You practically confessed it the day before at the Prescott when you told me, I’m going to fix this. The letter was already in the mail, but you never in a million years thought that Davenport would end up as Angry Jonny’s next victim, your mother’s next victim.”
“I can’t let you do this,” Malik said, slowly advancing. “You come into my life, walk out leaving nothing but a mess. You break my heart, you spy on me, read my journal. You’re a sneaky little girl, Jessica, and that’s all forgivable. It’s why I love you. But not this, Jessica. I can’t have you doing this to my family, no chance – ”
Jessica held out her arm, palm flat. “Caterwaul, Malik.”
Malik stopped short. Legs bent, preparing to lunge. “What?”
“Caterwaul…” Jessica lifted her shirt, revealed the microphone hooked to her bra. “I’m wired, Malik.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Doesn’t matter what you think.”
“You’re right about that,” Malik replied casually. “Because if you were wired, we wouldn’t still be having this conversation.”
She wasn’t given the opportunity to consider any of it.
Malik charged.
Jessica had just enough time to turn before he slammed her against the door.
It closed shut, blotting out all light.
Jessica’s face had crashed squarely into the hardwood door, sending bright starbursts from out of the darkness. Molars biting into her cheek, blood spurting from her mouth as the air rushed from her lungs. She felt Malik’s arm slither around her waist, pressing into her from behind. His free hand reached up, caught beneath her shirt. Fingers clawi
ng at her throat.
She pressed her palms against the door and shoved, twisting her body to the left with enough force to fall backwards and crush Malik against the adjoining wall. He let out a soft grunt, breath hot against her shoulder.
Not enough to break his grip.
Fingers getting a hold of her neck and squeezing. Actually lifting her inches off the carpet. Darkness swirling with shades of undiscovered red.
Gasping for air, Jessica raised her arm and brought her elbow hard into Malik’s stomach.
Followed through twice, felt his hold weaken.
She writhed wildly, slipping free, running towards the bed.
Malik’s hand slid down her body and he wrapped his arms around her leg.
Jessica squirmed, turning as Malik tried to hook his hands on her waistband.
She reached out into the darkness and plunged her fingers into his hair. There was a lot to grab a hold of, and Jessica rocked his head back, bringing it back down on her knee with a barely audible crack.
Malik cried out from the black, an enraged shriek that told Jessica she was going to have to kill him before he’d ever let her go.
Jessica kicked, hard. Sent him stumbling backwards, heard him crash against the door.
Her next breath would have to be either a scream or another attempt at escape.
Jessica opted for number two. Turned and took a blind leap over the bed, knowing she didn’t stand a chance with Malik posting the front door. She tore at the curtains, brass rings chiming dully as she ripped the lace. She threw the doors open to a ravenous blast of barbed wind. Tiny hailstones whizzed past her face, striking her shoulders and arms like frigid insects.
She threw one of her legs over the railing, ready to lower herself down on the blue awning below.
Glanced up too late to do anything about Malik. Barely enough time to see him rushing from the depths of the room, a dark mask of blood and teeth, arms reaching out. He stumbled at the last second, and his shoulder plowed into her…
The world snapped a tether, went spinning, her left hand latched onto the rail. Wrist rubbed raw as her body swung off the balcony, down and around. Hip shrieking as she bounced off the balcony’s concrete base. The impact reverberated through her entire body, all the way up to her fingers.
She let go.
Falling back, arms spread.
All the heavens revealed to her, clouds the color of corroded battery acid.
It was only a few feet. A couple of seconds.
Hardly enough time to pray that the awning could handle a hundred and ten pounds of earthbound teenager.
She hit the canopy, felt the thick fabric stretch beneath her.
Still stretching as she began to slide down, head first towards the ground. She kicked her legs up, abdomen bunching. Flipped around just in time to go soaring over the edge, feet first into a thicket of bushes. Not that it helped soften the body shock. Felt it in her shins. Teeth rattling, arms shielding her face as she carried the momentum forward, rolling several feet onto the golf course.
Jessica struggled to her knees, slipping on icy ball bearings. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Malik swing down from the balcony. Wasn’t about to wait around and see how the awning would hold up under his weight. She began to run across the golf course, right knee painfully scraping at the joints.
And then she stopped.
Looked out over the grassy expanse, golf course disappearing into the darkness.
Nothing but death out there. “What the hell am I doing?” she cried out.
She turned back to the floodlights.
Malik had slid down the canopy, already looking to make a landing.
Just beyond that lay the outdoor dining area, where the faces of the remaining restaurant staffers had gathered to see what the storm had blown their way.
Jessica ran, legs pumping. Gathering velocity, a kinetic freight train as Malik took hold of the iron rung and swung down. Body swaying to the left. Then to the right.
With her teeth bared in a wicked sneer, Jessica launched herself at him.
Crashed into Malik in midair, both bodies flying over the bushes and landing hard on the concrete.
Rolled, bounced along, skin scrapping as they crashed into a stack of metal chairs.
Classical music playing on outdoor speakers.
First chance she got, Jessica was going to grab that boy’s head and crack it against the nearest object.
Reached out, hand skimming the ground. Fingers wrapping around a large stone used to prop open the dining room doors. Jessica took hold, raised it above her head.
Lost beyond the moment, mind humming along with Mozart, at one with the music.
“FREEZE!”
The order was followed by a deafening gunshot.
Jessica was pulled away from the furthest reaches of the universe.
Let the stone fall to the ground. Threw herself against the cement and covered her head.
She heard a voice, female voice barking orders to stay right there!
Keep your hands where I can see them! Right up in the air!
Jessica’s hands weren’t anywhere near the air.
She rolled onto her back.
Presented with a sight that had her convinced she had finally gone insane.
Malik was on the ground, arms behind his back. Straddled by a sturdy, pony-tailed blonde in an elegant blouse and gray designer slacks. Flanked by two dames in sophisticated eveningwear. Guns drawn, pointed right at him with red lipstick snarls.
“Th’ fuck?” Jessica mumbled, blood rushing to her head as she stood up.
She promptly sat her ass back down.
“Jessica!”
She shook her head, clearing the way for Randal and Donahue to come running.
“You pat him down?” Donahue asked the blond, getting an affirmative nod as she cuffed Malik. “Read him his rights and bring him round back, we’ve got two cars coming. And someone get me an ambulance!”
Randal pulled out a walkie-talkie, began rattling off instructions.
Donahue crouched down next to Jessica, put an arm around her back. “Easy there, super girl. Easy.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t know that yet. You try moving everything? No broken bones?”
“Nah, it’s all good…” Jessica spat out a stream of blood, wiped her lips with the back of her hand. She saw the blonde undercover leading Malik away. “Did you get any of that, Detective? Was the microphone on?”
“We lost all communication right before midnight.”
“It was his mother… Patricia Council. She was the one. Castle, Davenport, Dr. Lazenby… It was always her.” Jessica reached into her pocket and handed Donahue the flash drive. “It’s real ugly, Donahue. Clarence Davenport had taken pictures of Malik. His mom found out…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Donahue soothed, taking the flash drive. “We’ll get your statement soon as we can.”
“I just want to go home.”
“We’ll get you checked out, then we’re going to need you down at the station.”
“Give me a break, detective…” Jessica felt the wind was the only thing holding up her head. Or keeping it attached. “I know you need to get my statement while it’s still fresh, but come on… how fresh do I look?”
Donahue went searching for a polite reply.
“I’m just talking a few hours of sleep time,” Jessica said. “Come pick me up at six in the morning if you like. I’ll tell you everything you need to know, just, c’mon. Please…” Jessica looked into eyes, his strong, worn features showing their age from so close. “Please just let me go home.”
Donahue removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “You let the paramedics take a quick look at you and we’ll call it even.”
“Deal. Help a girl up now.”
Easy going, far as standing went. They began to shuffle along the patio, astonished faces still staring from beyond th
e windows. Jessica gave them a wave. They hesitantly returned the gesture. Mouths agape, unable to fully process the procession.
“They never knew you had it in you,” Donahue commented.
“I know that guy…” Jessica mumbled, pointing. “Tipped him forty bucks tonight.”
“Just keep walking, lady.”
“Oh, I ain’t much of a lady.”
“I ain’t much of a detective,” Donahue admitted, as the cry of an ambulance began to emerge from somewhere beyond the building. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Jessica spat some more blood, and kept walking.
Chapter 73: Who I Am.
It was one in the morning when the squad car pulled up to Camelot apartments.
“Looks like they’re tearing this place a new one,” Donahue commented.
“Mm.”
“I’m going to walk you to the door, all right?”
“Yeah.”
Detective Donahue escorted her up the steps, along the brick path that cut through a twisted landscape of potholes, severed branches, and gaping windows. Anybody who happened to be passing by would have simply assigned blame to the passing storm.
Jessica knew better.
They reached the front door.
Donahue handed Jessica her book bag. “You want us to keep a patrol car around? Malik’s mother ain’t in jail yet, you know.”
“Don’t bother… Dinah’s got to be home by now.”
“Yeah, send her my regards.”
Jessica’s tiny chuckle rang hollow in her ears. “Sure.”
“Get some sleep. I’m picking you up at the butt-crack of dawn.”
“You Latin men, with your poetry.” With monumental effort, she opened the door. “I will see you at the butt-crack, then.”
“You really did do good tonight, Jessica.”
“Sure I did.”
She let the door swing shut behind her. Trudged up the steps, bile rising as she breathed in the stale smell of weed and wet dog. Three flights up, finally home to apartment K3A.
Home to an empty apartment, it appeared.
Lights off. No signs of life.
Jessica called out for her aunt.
No reply.
Still on edge from her work that evening, Jessica went from room to room, turning on all the lights, lowering the blinds. Postponing her inescapable dive into dreamland. Now completely in tune with her bruised and battered body. Arms covered in scratches. Wrist wrapped in gauze. Knees aching. Right cheek swelling, tongue pressing against the welt in her mouth.
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