Dynasty

by Jen Davis et al.

  Nicholas’s eyes couldn’t widen any further no matter how hard he tried, and his whimper was something Renee couldn’t find a comparison for. Nicholas quickly shifted his gaze between Matthew and Renee, both of whom were watching him with curiosity and expectation. Crescent pulled on his ear again and the whimper turned into a yelp.

  Nicholas stammered through blood and spittle, begging Matthew to let him go. Finally, Matthew made the choice for him. “Mr. Crescent, you’ve already got hold of his ear. Don’t get any blood on my daughter.”

  Renee sat impassively in her chair as she watched Crescent take extreme pleasure in slowly and methodically snipping off Nicholas’s ear, unfazed by the blood-curdling screams that filled the room. Never once did she stop to consider that most ten-year-olds would look away, have nightmares, or possibly throw up where they sat. Renee watched as the blood pooled underneath Nicholas’s chair until Crescent dropped the ear on the floor and Nicholas passed out from the pain.

  ***

  Renee checked her face in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy but otherwise she was presentable. She had one shot to get what she wanted and she needed to be in the perfect frame of mind to get it. Her father’s words came to her then: “If they don’t already know that the grave is a possible consequence of crossing a Parnell, you’d damn well better let them know it with what you bring with you. You don’t have to believe it, but they do.”

  She was approached by a salesman before she opened the front door. He looked to be close to her age, with the cockiness of youth and white teeth that sparkled. He probably thought all he had to do was flash a smile to win her over. He obviously has never met a Parnell before. She was there to see someone and would not be distracted.

  “Good morning,” the young man said cheerfully while flashing a smile. “How can I help?”

  Her face was solid impatience and her tone let him know she wasn’t there to see him. “I’m looking for the owner of this dealership.”

  “Is there a problem? Maybe I can help.”

  “There will be a problem if you don’t get me the owner of this dealership.”

  The salesman took a few seconds to stammer to himself, trying to figure out how to fix the situation. “Maybe my sales manager can help.”

  “I didn’t ask for the sales manager. I want to see the owner of this dealership.” The deadly glare in her eyes sent a chill up the young man’s spine as she leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I will not ask again.”

  After the young man broke into a run toward the back of the dealership, she helped herself to a cup of coffee, her breathing even and her confidence solid. She was tough, she was fierce, and she would get what she wanted. Her face contorted in disgust after her first sip of coffee, and as she threw it in the garbage, she saw who she came to see approaching her with a confused look on his face. Renee cracked a thin smile when she noticed the scar tissue had been replaced with a prosthetic ear.

  Nicolas offered his hand with a smile, seemingly cheerful and ready to resolve whatever problem there was. “How can I help you, ma’am?”

  Renee took the extended hand, not intending to let go until he answered her question. “Was she worth it?”

  She knew she had him. His grip slightly tightened on hers, then dropped to his side, immediately understanding that he had to start playing a game he hadn’t had to play in years. Nicholas dismissed the young salesman and waved his arm in an invitation for Renee to follow him. When they entered his office, he slowly lowered himself in the chair behind his desk while she stood, surveying the décor, her eyes immediately going to the framed picture of him with a beautiful blonde-haired woman draped on his arm, sitting in a restaurant, celebrating something. Both of their smiles screamed happy and she was momentarily glad for him.

  She could see he was nervous, but couldn’t afford to put him at ease quite yet. What she did next would solidify the risk she was taking. She would either succeed or fail, and she couldn’t afford to fail. As she turned her back to Nicholas, she slowly removed her jacket. His eyes widened as her mark came into view, the letter D falling like a teardrop.

  “Holy Christ,” Nicholas muttered under his breath. Renee knew she was the last visitor he expected and could see his mind scrambling, trying to think of what he might have recently done to have Matthew Parnell’s daughter before him. Renee casually took her seat opposite him, ready to get to work on her new life.

  “The ear looks good, Nicholas.”

  Nicholas swallowed the lump in this throat and asked, “How did you find me?”

  “People talk. I listen.” She had found him through a rumor.

  “I haven’t done anything,” he said, trying to keep the shaking out of his voice.

  Renee gestured to the photo on his desk. “Wife?”

  Nicholas glanced at the picture with a pang of sadness but looked at Renee with growing curiosity. “Ex.”

  “Ahh.” She stared him down for a few heartbeats, allowing him to frantically try to figure out the reason for her visit.

  Nicholas nervously lit a cigarette and offered one to Renee. When she waved his invitation away, he asked, “Why did he send you? I haven’t done anything.”

  “Nicholas, I’m exhausted so I’m going to get to the point. I need papers.”

  “Papers?”

  She leaned forward and glared at him, wishing she could shoot fire out of her baby blues. “Don’t try to play me for a fool, Nicholas. I know what you do. I need papers.”

  Nicholas had a smile that was ever widening by the time he finally spoke. His anxiety was gone and his appearance told her that he was going to try to use this information to his benefit as best as he could. “Why do you need papers?”

  Renee didn’t flinch and her face never gave away her desperation. “Not important.”

  “Oh?” He was beginning to get a sparkle in his eyes, and his smile stayed where it was. “Did you and Daddy have a fight?”

  Renee stared silently at him. Her stone face told him, without question, he was not going to get an answer.

  “Why come to me? Parnell has people of his own who would fall over each other to give you papers.”

  “Exactly the reason I am sitting here in front of you.”

  “And you don’t think he’ll figure out you came to me?”

  “He wouldn’t even consider it as an option. He could never imagine anyone not engaging the fine services he has to offer.” The tone in her voice, disgust mixed with hurt, told Nicholas she had indeed had a falling out with her father.

  “He always was a self-righteous bastard,” Nicholas said.

  “Don’t forget yourself, Nicholas. He may be a bastard, but he is still my father. My father is many things, but he underestimates one very important strength of mine.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “I’m smarter than he is.” She said it with the irrefutability of nothing less than the truth.

  Nicholas sat back in his chair, deciding how to stretch this out and think about what his return for her request would be. After everything her father had put him through, she knew Nicholas had to tread carefully. It was obvious he wasn’t overly comfortable having his former employer’s daughter sitting in front of him, demanding his services with no explanations.

  “I might be able to help you. But first, let me ask—”

  She gave him a direct look that said she was not leaving until she got what she wanted. “Here’s all you need to know: I need papers, I’m going to get papers, and I’m going to get them from you. You’re not going to argue, you’re not going to get what you want, and you’re not going to turn me away.”

  Nicholas had to at least try to get something out of it. “And what’s in it for me?”

  “You get to keep both your ears and continue breathing.” She had to make sure Nicholas would have no doubt that she could be as cold and heartless as her father and make him question the consequences of denying her request. She inclined her head toward the photograph on
his desk. “You and your ex.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Everything. Identification, passport, birth certificate. Your full custom package of what you do so well.” She flashed him a quick smile in hopes that he would interpret it as a gesture of appreciation for the fine quality of his work.

  He nodded his head. This was a serious request from a rather important person and he would be a fool to pass it up. “It will cost you.”

  Renee reached into her purse and tossed a tightly packed envelope on his desk. He thumbed through it, casually trying to estimate the amount of cash she had brought with her. Keeping his head slightly bent, he looked up at her through his eyelashes and shook his head. “Sorry, lass. Prices have gone up.”

  “Don’t think for one second that you will attempt to take advantage of me. There is more than enough in that envelope to cover your expenses in addition to securing your discretion and absolute, eternal silence.” She paused, then asked him the obvious question. “You wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to take Parnell money, would you?”

  She was full of surprises and he couldn’t help but be impressed. “You took this from him?”

  “And,” she continued, ignoring his question, “keep one thing in mind before you decide whether or not to grant my request.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m smarter than you too.”

  The blood drained from his face and he slowly leaned back in his chair, slapping the envelope against the palm of his hand, considering. Reconciled, he let out a sigh. “Identification and the like are doable. I can also provide credit cards, bank accounts, and credit reports.”

  “I need a career as well,” she stated as she suppressed the victorious smile that threatened to escape. “Something that will keep me moving.”

  “Anything in particular?”

  “I’ve been in business management for the past five years. Be creative.”

  “I can do that. It will take some time to get this done.”

  She didn’t have time. “Twenty-four hours.”

  His jaw dropped at the impossibility of her demand and he shook his head. “Twenty-four hours? Can’t be done.”

  “Make it happen,” she said with fiery eyes and an uncaring voice.

  He looked out the window and she could see the contemplation on his face. She knew she would get what she wanted, but she also knew, for his own safety and peace of mind, he would do it just to find a way to get her away from him.

  Nicholas turned back to Renee. “Anything else?”

  “I’ll need to trade in my car. Give the commission to the young man who tried to help me when I got here. He earned it and didn’t piss himself in the process.”

  ***

  Less than eighteen hours later, Renee merged her new vehicle onto the interstate, heading west with her new identity in an envelope on the passenger seat. Her destination was unknown, but she only had one thought in her head. Goodbye, Renee Parnell. Hello, Chloe Riggs.

  Chapter 16

  After twenty-four straight hours of driving, Chloe Riggs checked into the Holiday Inn off Interstate 94 in Bismarck, North Dakota. By the time she locked the door behind her, she was drained. She dropped her bags on the floor and fell backward on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Everything had happened so fast, but here she was, safe for now.

  She thought about the girls, her only friends. Her father was surely back from Chicago and she tried not to think about what he might be doing to them now that she was gone. Whatever punishment he was dealing was undoubtedly her fault.

  For the first time, she was completely on her own and anonymous to anyone she met. She was sure that nobody knew where she was, but had no idea how long it would stay that way. She knew Nicholas wouldn’t say anything; she had paid him well and given him a good enough scare to pretend he never knew she ever existed.

  Chloe tried to sit comfortably on the bed as she kicked her shoes to the floor and noticed the clock beside the bed read just after midnight. She had never been this afraid before and had to suppress all her fear and anxiety if she was going to attempt to have a normal life, if it could be called normal. Reaching into one of her bags, she removed two envelopes. One contained the cash she had taken from her father. What she kept for herself she thought of as remuneration for five years of services rendered managing his companions, twenty years of venomous hatred, and a little extra for murdering Christopher. The other envelope had been provided by Nicholas, which she dumped upside down and watched as her new life tumbled onto the bed.

  Her driver’s license listed her as a resident of Minnesota. She made a mental note to go online in the next few days and study up so she would at least sound like she was familiar with the Land of Ten Thousand Lakes. She flipped through her new passport and discovered she had already been a tourist in Spain and Norway within the past three years. She had new credit cards, a bank account, social security number, and phone number. Nicholas gave her business organization papers, all filed and legal, making her the sole proprietor of a small consulting firm that helped businesses with strategies and techniques to create success and think smarter about their goals. He also provided her with a more than impressive resume and a stack of referrals from companies she had “consulted” for. She would have to come up with some creative explanations for those companies when the time came but she liked the idea of her new profession, and Nicholas told her to be expecting a call in a few days from her first client. She didn’t bother to ask what happened to her true identity. The less she knew, the better.

  She put her new life back in its envelope, lay back on the bed, and made a mental list of everything she would need to accomplish if this telephone call for her first job was actually coming her way. She tried desperately to shut her brain off, not wanting to think about Christopher, her father, or her desertion anymore. After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, it finally happened, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  She clutched a pillow, curled up in a ball, and wept uncontrollably until sleep finally claimed her.

  Chapter 17

  Eight Years Later

  “Thirty-year-old Michelle Stephenson of Boulder, Colorado was hit by a car while walking to the field to watch her son’s game. She died at the scene before paramedics arrived. The driver of the vehicle fled the scene and police are currently investigating. Police are asking if anyone has information about the vehicle or any information that may assist with the investigation to please call the police non-emergency number. In other news…”

  A picture of Michelle Stephenson of Boulder, Colorado—formerly of Boston, Massachusetts—flashed on the screen during the news report. She looked exactly the same as she had eight years ago, except for the fact that she was smiling and sickeningly happy. The balloons and streamers in the background, as well as the children and jubilant adults in the foreground, gave away that the picture had been most likely taken at a child’s birthday party, most likely her own child’s.

  The television went black with the click of the remote and Chloe took a few deep breaths, trying not to let the pain stab her in the heart too much.

  Thanks to Nicholas and his choice of career for her, she drove all over the country for work, never staying in one place for too long. Her routine was the same wherever she went. She rented a furnished home or apartment to temporarily live, secluded herself when she wasn’t working, and watched the national news every morning, hoping not to see a story of her father looking for her, as well as another story about a murdered woman who had a black rose tattoo. While the news never mentioned the mark, she, of course, knew they had one because she recognized who the women were from the pictures the news flashed on the screen. The first news report she saw had been six years ago. Thinking about that first murder still hurt just as much as all of the others that followed. No matter what city she was in, she knew one undeniable truth: it was her fault they were dead.

  When she felt she could breathe again, Chloe went back into the ba
throom to finish getting ready for her day.

  Chapter 18

  Stopping for coffee at Ma and Pop’s Java had been a Monday through Friday morning routine for Hunter Lawton since his wife died. Amy had been with friends enjoying Mardi Gras parades and catching all the beads she possibly could when someone described as a tall, bald man with an unkempt beard and yellow teeth bumped into her, almost pushing her off the sidewalk. He caught her by the arm to stop her from falling and stabbed her in the neck, instantly killing her. Her friends and parade enthusiasts watched in horror as a group of men took chase after the bald man, only to lose him in the crowd, leaving Amy’s death unsolved. Hunter blamed himself every day. If he hadn’t been so tired, he would have gone to the parade with his wife and she would still be with him today.

  Just opening the front door of the coffee shop gave Hunter’s sense of smell the burst of coffee and fresh baked pastries that he had become accustomed to over the years. It was a small but prosperous place, owned by Mr. and Mrs. Davidson, a couple who had decided to leave their high stress, overworked jobs in their late forties and open a coffee house. Hunter had developed a taste for his wife’s favorite coffee and was one of his daily routines in an attempt to keep a piece of her alive. Besides his coffee and his job, there wasn’t much else.

  Mrs. Davidson’s smile as he walked in said she had been waiting for him all morning. She was more like a mother to him, always giving advice, trying to make sure he was happy, and relentlessly trying to find the perfect woman for him. He wasn’t interested in meeting the perfect woman, but her heart was in the right place.

  “Good morning, Agent Lawton,” she said as she handed him his coffee.