Never Again, Seriously Page 25

  Footsteps padded toward him from above, not scraping as Temkin’s had done.

  Stifling the urge to call out, he prayed this was Shivani. The footsteps stopped, then faded away. He was alone.

  After a long wait, the faint sounds of a commotion in the distance gradually increased until he could make out shoes scuffing on metal and voices whimpering. Sharon and Rachel. The sounds grew louder and stopped directly above him, a flashlight beam filtering down through the catwalk.

  “Here they are. I’ll drop the end of a rope to you.” Temkin’s flashlight shone on the bag.

  “How did you find us?” Jake asked.

  “Easy. Once I found the fraud, it wasn’t hard to figure out you two were involved. I checked into both of you, and the rest is legwork.”

  Temkin cleared his throat. “Enough history. Fasten the bag to it, and after I haul it up, I’ll send these two down to you.”

  “Let me see them.”

  Their faces drawn with fear and ghostly in the light, Sharon and Rachel stood against the wall, hands bound behind them. “Are you all right?” Jake asked. Sharon nodded.

  “They’re fine. You’ll all be together soon.”

  Sharon’s voice rang in his head. Jake, he’s going to kill us.

  Jake groaned inside. All he could do was delay. Where was Shivani? He tied the rope to a strap on the bag and held it in a tight embrace. “No can do. Send them down first.” Jake squatted and lifted the bag above his body, still holding tight with both hands, protection against an expected shot.

  Where’s Shivani? Why hasn’t he killed this guy? Chickened out, probably. I heard him leave.

  The flashlight shone through the access hole. “Last chance. I want that bag up here now.” Temkin jerked the rope for emphasis.

  “You’ll be caught.”

  “Really? Was I caught for José Colón’s murder?” Temkin laughed, a dry, harsh sound.

  The flashlight shifted to a position outside the railing above. It’s coming now. He’s ready to shoot.

  The rope slackened and dropped on Jake’s head. A heavy metal object clattered down to the concrete floor. The flashlight tumbled by, its beam rotating and illuminating the processing equipment and catwalks. On the floor below, it remained on, a dull radiance in a few inches of dirty water. After a scuffle, something bulky scraped the railing overhead and brushed the railing on Jake’s level as it plummeted down. A wet crunch accompanied the heavy thump of its landing.

  “That you, Shivani?”

  “At your service.” A bright light shone down on the form of Arthur Temkin lying in a shallow pool on the main floor, a dark stain spreading out in the water from his head. Temkin’s eyes stared into the endless dark beyond.

  Jake croaked, “Thank God. Where the hell have you been? That was close.”

  “Please don’t cavil. I did it the way I had to. I believe Temkin heard me, or thought he heard something. He shined his light all around on the way back to get the ladies. So don’t ask me where the hell I’ve been.”

  “I’m sorry. That got your goat, didn’t it?”

  “Goat?”

  “Never mind. Untie them and help them come to me. I’ll take them down to the ground, and you can bring the bag.”

  Sharon came down first. “We were so frightened, Jake.” Her body shook as he held her. She pulled away to assist Rachel, and when her sister was down, all three clustered in an embrace.

  “It’s over.” Jake rubbed each of them on the shoulder. “Really over.”

  As they stepped around the small pool, Shivani shined his light on Temkin, and Rachel screamed. Sharon pushed the light away. “Please. We didn’t need to see that.”

  She stroked Rachel’s hair until she stopped hyperventilating. “I know you’re scared, but that’s the bad guy. We’re safe now. Let’s go.”

  The rain had lessened. Shivani illuminated the ground ahead of them and shined his light on the car. He put the bag in the trunk and walked to the other side while they got in. “My car. Where the hell did you go with it, Jake?”

  “I did what I had to. Don’t cavil.”

  Shivani giggled. “So my goat was not the only one taken?”

  “I never can tell when you’re serious. Have you really not heard the phrase ‘get your goat’?”

  Shivani slid behind the wheel. “I assume it still runs. The hour is late, but I think we should go to the beach house anyway.”

  Jake pulled a cushioned rocker near the railing, so he could rest his feet on it, looking out over the peaceful Gulf. He turned his head to the others, who were at the table. “Now that I’ve gotten comfortable, I need a beer. Will somebody get me one?”

  “That somebody is you.” Sharon giggled. “While you’re up, get something for the rest of us and come sit. We should talk. I could use a glass of wine. Anybody else?”

  “Lemonade, please.” Rachel mirrored Sharon’s smile but with less assurance.

  “Me too,” Shivani said.

  Jake made a show of carrying the beverages in both hands, pretending he was about to drop them. “Shivani, take this lemonade. I can set the rest down.”

  Sharon sipped her wine. “I want to recap what’s happened and review where things stand.”

  “Said the auditor.” Jake grinned.

  “No, seriously. Who knows about us now that José Colón and Arthur Temkin are out of the picture? Malcolm and Trip, right?”

  Shivani leaned forward and said, sotto voce, “Malcolm’s dead.”

  Jake and Sharon spoke at the same time. “What? How?”

  “Didn’t I tell you? A cop shot him in Rachel’s front yard. When the ambulance came, they covered his face.”

  Jake scratched his head. “But how did he figure out to come to Ray City?”

  Shivani shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now.”

  “Maybe not.” Sharon shifted in her chair and touched the back of Jake’s hand. “Do you think Trip is involved?”

  Jake said, “He might try to find us. But he wouldn’t know where to look.”

  “Sweetie, I doubt he’ll be looking. He tracked my phone, and we heard him with Malcolm, but I feel something happened between then and now. Maybe Malcolm killed him, or maybe Trip decided this was getting too risky. That would be like him.”

  Shivani said, “Stop. Who is this Trip?”

  “He worked at Global Source Enterprises,” Jake said. “He figured out what we had done and tried to follow us, along with Malcolm. Tracked her cell phone, but we caught on to that. We tracked them back, using Trip’s phone number, and managed to send them on a wild goose chase. That’s why we’re surprised Malcolm showed up.”

  “And no Trip.” Shivani’s face reflected concern. “He could be out there somewhere, or you might be right. Malcolm could have killed him. Do this for me. Write down all the basic information you have about him on some notepaper. I work with a guy in Miami who can snoop around.”

  “Will do.” Sharon sat back and frowned at Jake. “Even if he were to search for us, he thinks we’re using the fake names. That helps too.”

  “A brand-new set of IDs might be a wise investment.”

  Sharon nodded. “Granted.”

  Shivani stood and walked the length of the porch and back. “How did Temkin find us here?”

  Sharon broke the silence that followed.

  “Rachel has learned a big lesson.” She turned to Rachel. “Haven’t you?”

  “I’m sorry,” Rachel said. “I fu—messed up bad. I talked to Gary. He’s the drug dealer in Ray City. I thought he would bring me some stuff.” She shuddered.

  Shivani adjusted his chair and sat. “Wait. This guy knows where we are? What else does he know?”

  Rachel put her face in her hands. “That horrible man made him do it. I don’t understand what’s going on. Gary doesn’t like any kind o
f trouble.”

  “I hope not. My friends, I recommend leaving this area soon, no more than a few days from now.” Shivani nodded at Jake. “Lest you forget, we have some unfinished business—the dance challenge.”

  Sharon groaned. “You guys and your egos. You’re so juvenile. I was hoping this would go away.”

  “Not on your life,” Jake said. “This is about a lot more than money.”

  Shivani coughed. “Speaking of money, I feel I’ve earned a bonus on top of what we’ve already agreed—say an additional $250,000. You know, for saving your lives.”

  “Raj—”

  “My request is reasonable.”

  Jake closed his eyes, opened them, and squinted at the clouds.

  “Up to you, bubba,” Sharon said.

  “Agreed,” he sighed.

  Shivani smiled. “I appreciate that was difficult for you. Tell you what I’ll do. You’ll owe me the $875,000 due when I win, plus the $250,000 bonus we just agreed on. That’s $1,125,000. If you want to skip the contest, I’ll give you a $25,000 discount.”

  “You know I won’t go for that. You’re just trying to piss me off, get me rattled.” A wolfish smile spread on Jake’s face. “Let’s see how that works out for you.”

  “Do me a favor, guys. Before you become too involved in this contest, I want you both to go with me and Rachel to a rehab facility nearby. The name is Directions.”

  “Will she do that?” Jake said.

  “She’s agreed to treatment.” Sharon rubbed Rachel’s shoulder. “In my phone conversations with them, they said her prognosis might be positive. History of on-and-off drug use, and she’s clean now. They’ll work on her self-esteem and setting goals, in addition to treatment for addiction. If we like it, she’s willing to start right away.”

  Rachel’s upright posture conveyed a different person, more confident. She said, “I sure am. I want to be able to stay away from drugs.”

  “It’s a lot of money, Jake.”

  He waved that away. “Sure. We’ll go tomorrow.”

  Chapter 34

  The trio entered the Elks Club and walked through the dining hall toward the far corner, where a slender man in a T-shirt unpacked equipment and moved about, setting up. They threaded their way between tables set close together and across the dance floor until they stood before him.

  Sharon sidled up to the man, who looked fit for his age, in his early seventies. He raised his head, eyes behind thick glasses appraising Sharon, and unconsciously smoothed his thin white hair. Got him already, Sharon thought.

  “Hi.” Sharon grinned at him. He smiled back. “We were wondering what time you start tonight.”

  “After dinner, around seven.”

  “Wow, you start early. By the way, what’s your name?”

  “Pete. And you are?”

  “I’m Sharon, and this is Jake and Ray.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” Pete’s glance traveled their faces, and he appeared confused. “Seven may be early to you, but our crowd … I mean, there are a lot of retired folks.”

  “Oh, that’s fine, Pete.” Sharon touched Pete’s arm, and he blushed. “We wanted to discuss the possibility you might let us provide a little free entertainment.”

  She lowered her voice. “To settle a bet, these two guys have agreed to a two-man dance contest. We need your help. Would you let them do it here? Your audience will enjoy something different in the way of entertainment—and decide the winner.”

  Pete hesitated, scanning the empty room as if for help in dealing with this. “I don’t know. The people like my show.”

  Jake stepped forward, smiling. “Don’t worry. Your audience won’t be disappointed. This guy is a dance champion, and I’m not too bad myself or I wouldn’t be doing this. I guarantee they’ll have fun, and you’ll receive the credit.”

  Jake took two bills from his wallet, folded them, and held them out, palm down to shield them from view. “Two hundred. Come on, this’ll be a gas.”

  Pete wavered, so he added another bill.

  Pete pocketed the money. “Tell me what you want.”

  After the three conferred with Pete about the show, Sharon said, “We’re going to go freshen up. We’ll see you about six thirty, Pete.” She flashed a smile, and he blushed again.

  After dinner, while servers brought trays of desserts from the kitchen, Sharon led the two contestants in a side door, past diners drinking coffee. Some had already finished their desserts.

  Sharon spoke in Jake’s ear. “I’m surprised at the noise. I thought this would be a sleepy crowd.”

  Most of the men wore permanent-press pants, though a few had on shorts. Sharon leaned in again. “I thought Kmart stopped selling those pastel, striped shirts twenty-five years ago.”

  Jake nodded to a white-haired man who was looking at them and said from the side of his mouth, “They probably did.”

  The women featured more varied styles. Some had the white permed hair often seen around Lake Creed. Others wore their tinted gray hair tastefully done along the lines of those in TV ads for medicines or insurance, and a few had mannish haircuts buzz-trimmed in a taper. At one table, the long hair of two women hung flat, as if a hairbrush had been hastily drawn through it. Dress correlated with the hairstyles, from misshapen old sweater sets to casual blouses, to fitted shirts under tailored jackets, the latter belonging to the fashionable hairdos.

  Sharon led Jake and Shivani to the far corner, diagonal from the DJ, and they stood waiting. After the desserts were cleared, the DJ raised his microphone and greeted the diners. “Tonight, we have something special—a two-man dance contest. The two men you will see are dancing to settle a bet, and you’ll be the judges.”

  “Ooohs” and “ahhs” rose from the crowd, to light applause.

  “Our dancers are here now.” He gestured toward the back of the room as the trio started forward. I’m going to let them introduce themselves.” He handed the mic to Sharon.

  Sharon drew a breath to quiet her nerves. “My name’s Sharon. I have nothing to do with this.” Tentative laughter warbled from the back, then increased in volume as she smiled and held her arms out.

  She motioned for silence. “Actually, what I’m going to do is stand back and watch. You will applaud them each in turn after they’re done. The one with the loudest applause wins.” More laughter was followed by applause and whistles. She handed the mic to Jake.

  Jake took his time, directing his gaze around the room, stopping often to make eye contact and smile. “Hi, I’m Jake.” He paused for effect. “This is a popular song from the past, enjoyed by men and women alike. I’m doing it especially for the ladies tonight.” He flashed a wide grin. “I lost the coin toss, so I go first.”

  The DJ faded in the opening notes of “Suspicious Minds,” and before three bars had played, moans floated up from the audience. Jake lip-synced Elvis precisely, replicating the suggestive sneer, rotating his hips, and holding the mic against his lips, ending on one knee, the other leg stretched out to the side as the ballad comprising the first half of the song ended. The pace picked up, and Jake strutted about, making eye contact with all the women near the front. The tempo increased, and Jake stepped faster, swiveling his hips to the music and imitating exactly the breathless pauses in the song. As the tempo accelerated further, Jake whirled and stutter-stepped across the floor, now undulating fiercely.

  The music slowed again, and he dropped to one knee before a trim woman in a shiny blouse, imploring her not to let a good thing die. She smiled and clapped her hands.

  The beat raced ahead again, and Jake windmilled an arm to the beat, turned to his side, and pumped his fist from his shoulder to the floor. He sweated like Elvis but without the excuse of glaring lights and a heavy costume. The song drew to a close, and he sat back on his heels, arms held out toward the woman in the shiny blouse.

 
Everybody stood, screaming and clapping. A large pair of panties floated from the middle of the room, like a beige manta ray, and puddled on the floor in front of him.

  Jake wasn’t through. He reached a hand out to the woman in the shiny blouse and invited her to the front. As she drew near, he held the mic away and said, “Relax and try to follow me.”

  “Don’t you worry about me, son. You’ll be the one trying to keep up.”

  The song started again. Jake demonstrated a series of basic dance steps. He held his arm out, and she joined him, dancing in near-perfect synchronization. He raised both hands high and motioned the crowd to come forth. At first, only six ventured up, and he had them form a line. Several more clustered at the edge of the floor, eyes on the dancers’ feet while their own feet shuffled in imitation. Soon, well over twenty dancers followed along, with varying degrees of accuracy.

  Jake began adding spins and extra steps, his partner matching his figures exactly. Other dancers made their own stumbling attempts to keep up, and as the music sped to its frenetic end, all the dancers ended up in disarray, laughing, even Jake and his partner. Jake took the mic and opened his arms to the dancers. “Thang yew. Thang yew. Thang yew verra mudge.”

  Sharon stood by, amazed.

  The DJ’s amplified voice cut through the crowd noise. “Save your applause for the end.”

  Jake handed his mic to Shivani, who had put on his fedora unnoticed. Mic held down, Shivani said, “You hardly danced at all.”

  Shivani smiled broadly at the crowd as though he had congratulated Jake and said, “My name is Ray. This was described to you as a dance contest. Yet, Jake here did an impersonation and then led a dance class.

  “That is not what I expected. Is it what you expected? A dance class? I should be declared winner by default.” He held his arms apart, mic in his right hand.

  People talked in muted voices. No one applauded.

  “Okay, I can tell from your murmuring you prefer I go ahead with this. After the display you just witnessed, you must be wondering what I’m going to do. Well, unlike Jake here, I’m going to dance.” The murmuring became louder. He smiled again, beamed at the audience, and said, “Are you ready?”