Jealous Storm

by Jack Stroke

“Maybe. Not sure. Possible developing situation here.”

  “What? At Paradise Cove?” His voice was almost as disdainful as Mother’s would have been.

  “Yes, at Paradise Cove.” Amber paced as best she could in the confines of cabin six. “It might be nothing. I just need a quick background check on someone.”

  “No worries. Shoot.”

  “The name is Ellis. Ellis Nixon.” She spelt it out to make certain he didn’t think she said Alice.

  “Uh-huh,” Tony said, typing away. “And what sort of information are we looking for?”

  “Anything. Criminal history. I’m sure there’s something.”

  “Huh,” Tony said. “Just give me a sec.”

  Hold music took over. Cabin six was too small so Amber exited, circling the perimeter instead. She should have known something was up. The music went on for too long. Finally:

  “Amber?”

  Amber’s heart jumped into her mouth. “Mother? I didn’t mean to… You’re not…”

  “What’s going on?” Mother’s tone was sharper than usual.

  “Nothing. Just a background check.”

  “Nonsense. Ellis Nixon? We remember who Ellis Nixon is, Amber.”

  “What? No. It’s no one. Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie. It demeans us both. If Ellis is back, you need to get out of there.”

  “What? No, I don’t. I’m fine. ”

  “We’re not so sure that’s true.”

  “Mother…”

  “Do we need to bring you in?”

  “Bring me in? Why?”

  “For your own protection.”

  “What? Don’t be silly. No. I can handle Ellis.”

  “Not for protection from him. Protection from yourself. His reappearance is not a positive development.”

  Amber furrowed her brow. “Is… Is Ellis flagged in the system or something?”

  “Why not? Wouldn’t it be logical to tag anyone who makes our agents act irrationally?”

  “I haven’t seen this guy in almost twenty years.”

  “Until now. And here we are. Let us bring you in.”

  “I’m fine, Mother. I’ve gotta go.”

  “Amber —”

  Amber hung up before either of them could say any more.

  36

  Ben awoke on the most uncomfortable mattress he had ever slept on. What was it stuffed with, cans? Not that he had much experience with mattresses other than his, but this had to be in the top ten least comfortable mattresses in the world. How could it possibly be this lumpy? Some of the lumps were springs, while others were God knows what.

  Shake had driven them to the dive of a motel after the party - the type of place they should pay people to stay. The ’Ropicana, as Shake took great delight in calling it. It should have been the Tropicana, but the ’T’ on the buzzing neon sign out front was faulty.

  There were two levels overlooking the car park and an empty pool, joined by an exposed staircase.

  Ben had watched with interest as Shake scoped out their first-floor room, searching for invisible monsters, while not remotely concerned with the abundance of very real cockroaches. Ben recalled Joan mentioning something about Amber having tripwire alarms set up when she first moved in. Was this sort of thing was in his future too?

  The party had left Ben exhausted, exerting so much mental and physical energy, that he had thought he would be out the moment his head hit the pillow, even in a place like this. Instead, his mind raced most of the night, keeping him awake as he watched the headlights from passing traffic paint the room’s ceiling.

  He must have drifted off at some point because he found himself waking in the glow of morning sun.

  “Shake?”

  No response. Ben rolled over, coming face-to-face with an inquisitive cockroach. He stretched. Getting out of bed, he moved the curtain gently, concerned the thing might come away in his hands.

  The Tesla was still there, thankfully. Shake was laid out on a deckchair, by the waterless pool, in a pair of white trunks which matched his hair.

  “Getting some sun?” Ben asked as he approached.

  “You betcha.”

  “Don’t you burn easily?”

  “It’s early. Besides, I’m not albino. I’ve just got white hair.”

  Ben descended into the next recliner alongside Shake, perching on the edge, not lounging like his companion. The chair complained but didn’t break.

  “Get any sleep?” Shake asked.

  “Not a lot. I thought I would sleep really well, but yeah…”

  “Not easy. It’s a skill, learning to let go.”

  Ben nodded. “Don’t think it’s possible to sleep well on a mattress like that.” He picked at the peeling paint on his chair. “Why are we staying here?”

  “Got a problem with the ’Ropicana?”

  “Yes. It’s awful.”

  “You want to pay for something better, be my guest.”

  “It’s just… It doesn’t fit.”

  “Fit what?”

  “I don’t know. With the Teslas and private jets.”

  “Control,” Shake said. “What we do, it’s important to retain that element of control. You need to be able to sleep with confidence.”

  “Can’t you control a nice hotel?”

  Shake tilted his head skywards, not answering.

  “But there’s, like, nobody after you right now, is there?”

  “That would make this the perfect time to attack, would it not?”

  Matter settled, Shake focused back on soaking up the rays.

  “Listen,” Ben said in time. “I’m —”

  “Having second thoughts?”

  “Yeah. How did you…”

  “Second thoughts are like tonsils. They’re useless, but everybody has them.”

  “I was thinking about Baumer… You know, with him being the target and everything…”

  He paused. Shake made no effort to help.

  “I know it’s the job and whatever, but do we have to, you know, kill him?”

  “We? No.”

  “Me. Whatever.”

  “Baumer is a bad man.”

  “You said that. I mean, he seemed okay,” Ben said. “I know how stupid that sounds.”

  “No, I get it. It makes a difference when you meet someone. When you shake their hand.”

  “I can’t tell if you’re picking on me, but… yeah.”

  “It doesn’t matter how charming he is, Benny, or how big his mansion might be. He’s still a bad dude. Most arms dealers are.”

  “Arms dealers?”

  “Sure.”

  “I thought…”

  “What?

  “Isn’t he a human trafficker?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because that’s what you said he was. On the plane.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure you did. No, you did.”

  “Does it matter? A bad man is a bad man.”

  Surely it did, yet Ben was having difficulty articulating why exactly.

  “Either way, Shake, do —”

  “Was she a good kisser?”

  “What?”

  “Baumer’s daughter. Was she a good kisser? Or have you not kissed enough people to tell? There’s no shame in —”

  “No, I’ve kissed plenty of people.”

  “No need to get defensive.”

  “I’m not.”

  “No one told you to kiss her, Ben.”

  “That’s not what this is about.”

  “She’s a pretty girl. You can’t let that colour things. There are plenty of pretty girls around.”

  “I’m not. I’m just not sure we should kill Baumer. I’m not sure I can.”

  “Excellent. I’ve got some good news for you then. We’re not killing Baumer.”

  “We’re not?”

  “We never were.”

  “Isn’t… Isn’t he the target?”

  “Precisely. Target. The job isn�
�t always to kill the target.”

  “But didn’t you…”

  “You jumped to conclusions. I said target. You assumed the rest.”

  “Like I assumed you said he’s a human trafficker?”

  Shake stretched out like a cat. “So, no killing Baumer. Feel better?”

  “I guess.”

  A car roared past down the road. Ben waited for Shake to fill in the gaps, even though he knew it was pointless.

  “How are we getting to Baumer if we’re not killing him?”

  “We, no. You.”

  “Okay. How am I getting to him?”

  “You’re going to kill his daughter.”

  37

  The Port Simmons police station was shiny and new, paid for by the exorbitant council rates charged to the residents who only lived there one month a year.

  Officer Dash handled the front desk. Amber had only met him one time. He was a mate of Grubby until they’d had a falling out.

  “Help you?”

  “Yeah, is Officer Stacey about?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to speak to her.”

  “Is this a police matter? If it is, you can tell me. If it’s not, talk to her outside work hours.”

  How simple would it be to grab Dash by the back of the head, slam his face into the desk? Maybe break his nose.

  Fortunately, Officer Stacey appeared. “Ms Storm. What can we do for you?”

  “I’m just after a quick word with you actually, if that’s all right. In private.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Ignoring Dash’s scowl, they retreated to Stacey’s desk in the staff room.

  “Quiet today.”

  “Quiet most days. Port Simmons in off-season. It’s either a feast or famine around here, you know?”

  Amber pulled over a seat and sat opposite Stacey.

  “What’s up?”

  “There’s a suspicious character hanging around town.”

  “Paradise Cove?”

  “Yep. I was hoping you might be able to do a background check on him or something.”

  “Right. Suspicious how?”

  “He’s just bad news.”

  “Okay… Bad news how exactly?”

  “Up to no good.”

  “Right. And is this something you know? Or just a hunch?”

  “Something I know.”

  “And yet you seem hesitant to go into detail.” Stacey waited. When she didn’t get a response, she put down her pen. “Listen, Amber. You’re a smart woman. I’m sure you understand that this is not how things work.”

  “How so?”

  “There’s not much I can do based on you not liking someone.”

  “It’s not that I don’t like him…”

  “All right then,” Stacey said. She was likely a good cop. Patient. “Give me something more concrete than that he is bad news.” She waited for Amber, who didn’t say anything. “Look, the guy might be a real piece of work —”

  “No, no. He’s done something, okay? If you look him up, if you do the background check…” Amber could hear how desperate she sounded, acutely aware how foolish this was and yet she couldn’t stop herself. It was like she was on rails, barrelling forward without choice. “I can’t do a background check, don’t you see? But there’s something there. I just don’t know what it is.”

  Stacey smiled, part sympathetic, part condescending. “I believe you. I do. But it’s not about that. For better or worse this isn’t the old West. We can’t just run people we don’t like out of town. Not without evidence.”

  “The evidence will be in the background check.”

  “Maybe. But if so, you’ll need to find some other way.”

  38

  By the empty pool at the ’Ropicana, the air gushed out of Ben like a rapidly deflating balloon, denying him the ability to speak.

  “What do you call this thing?” Shake said indicating to the pink concrete shell beside them. “I was going to leave you a note, back in the room, let you know I was by the pool. Except pool denotes water. So, what would you call a pool with no water?”

  “You can’t be serious…” Ben managed eventually.

  “Whether it’s a pool not? I guess I could have just said an empty pool. No matter. You found me.”

  “About Nicole.”

  “Oh, she contacted you, by the way.” Shake held up the burner phone he’d given Ben. “She wants you to come hang out.”

  Ben snatched the phone.

  “Chill, Benny boy. I know, invasive, right? Me looking through your messages. No secrets here, my friend. You and I are a team on this.”

  Nicole’s message was simple yet it set his heart on fire.

  “What do I say to her?”

  “You say yes, I would love to come and hang out with you.”

  “And then?”

  “And then, you hang out.”

  Red splotches marched their way up Ben’s neck. “Enough games, Shake. You know what I’m asking.”

  “I don’t. I’m not a mind reader.”

  “How do I…”

  “How do you what, Benny? Again, if you can’t say it, you won’t be able to do it.”

  “How am I supposed to kill her?”

  “Why? What are you thinking? Stab? Lot of blood.” He grinned, enjoying himself too much.

  It took all Ben’s restraint not to strike him. This was a living, breathing, beautiful person they were talking about.

  “Shoot her? Toss her out a window? Nothing like that. Don’t worry. It’ll be quick and painless.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that.”

  “Poison, Benny. Slow acting. An easy one for your first.”

  “An easy one?”

  “Relatively. You won’t be there when it happens. She won’t die in your arms. No dramatic getaway. She won’t have any idea that it was you. Neither will anybody else. Easy.”

  Ben couldn’t breathe, temporarily having forgotten how.

  “Is this going to be a problem?”

  The empty pool stared up at Ben. He fought the urge to dive in. Right in that moment it was appealing, even with the lack of water.

  “This is the job, Benny, my young friend. What did I say? Meet the girl, nothing more. No one told to kiss her.”

  “Will she suffer?”

  “What did I say about questions? You have a job to do. Pondering things like that will only lead to trouble.”

  “Why?”

  “Think about it. What if I say, ‘Yeah, she will suffer greatly.’ It doesn’t change anything. You still have to do it. You’ll just feel worse about it.”

  “What if I…”

  Again, Shake waited, not helping.

  “What if I can’t?”

  “No such thing as can’t. You can and you will.”

  “But, seriously, what if I can’t? I mean, physically can not do it?”

  “What did I say on the plane, Benny? What is it we do at Diamond Logistic?”

  “What we are told.”

  “Exactly. This is the job. We are waaaaaay beyond ’can’t’. There is no going home and crying to your Mum. Or Amber. You just have to buckle down and get on with it.”

  Shake swung his legs about, sitting up.

  “First one is tough, no doubt about it. I’d love to tell you it gets easier, but it doesn’t. It just gets different.” He patted Ben on the knee as he stood. “This won’t make you feel any better, but the girl is going to die, one way or another. Your choice. For her, the end result will be the same. For you, you can successfully complete your first assignment. Or you can completely screw up any potential employment possibilities and disappoint a whole lot of people.”

  Shake wandered back to their room, leaving him. Ben glanced up. The sky was there, as always. It just felt like it was falling in.

  39

  The sun set slowly over Paradise Cove. A crappy day was turning into a miserable evening. At least for Amber. She decided to do something about things. Being passive w
asn’t helping. Trouble is, her solution wasn’t working either.

  She waded out into the water at Hidden Beach, desperate for its magic healing powers to restore her. Usually a place of unimaginable delight, today the water just felt wet. It wasn’t the temperature, that was perfect. Slipping into the ocean should have been gorgeous. Stupid Ellis. This was all his fault. The guy was poison. A slow-acting poison that sucked all the good away from anything and left a husk.

  From somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind a voice reminded her: Chill Amber. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Chill Amber was all well and good. She had never factored in Ellis though. Yes, Chill Amber was still a thing just… later.

  ‘That’s not how it’s supposed to work…’ God, shut up, brain. When had her internal monologue turned into Vaughan? Nope. The water wasn’t helping. Time to try something else.

  “Lion? Lion?”

  Where was that pesky cat? As far as she knew he didn’t travel too far. He had his kingdom at Paradise by the Bay. She had never seen him venture much beyond that. How could he disappear like this?

  Of course it didn’t matter if she couldn’t find the silly animal. She would see him tomorrow. And yet, at that moment, it mattered more than anything in the world. Where the heck could he be?

  “Lion!”

  As the day slowly vanished around her, Amber spotted a figure on a bench outside the owner’s cabin. Ellis. The only sensible choice of action was to ignore him and walk away. Except Ellis wasn’t alone. A ball of orange fluff sat on his knee. Amber’s heart launched into her throat.

  “Hi there, Amber. Nice night.”

  Should she belt that self-satisfied look off his face? Sure was tempting.

  “Put the cat down, Ellis.”

  Ellis glanced at Lion, then back to Amber.

  “Why? He’s happy here.”

  Was he? Traitor. Except it wasn’t clear. Lion wasn’t squirming or anything. Did Ellis have the cat pinned with his right arm? The very idea sent a chill down Amber’s spine.

  “Ellis, put him down.”

  “He’ll get down when he wants to.”

  Red-hot bugs crawled under Amber’s skin, willing her to do… something.

  “Ellis…”

  “It’s lovely up here, isn’t it? Paradise Cove? I think I might move up here permanently.”