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“Uh huh.”
“You want to hold or have me call you back?”
“Call me back. I’ve got to pack.”
“Gimme ten minutes.”
Twenty years ago, Lou and I worked as hired assassins for the CIA in Europe. I was early twenties, Lou was forty. We survived that gig for twelve years and eventually made our way stateside, where I landed a job killing terrorists for Homeland Security. Lou headed up my intelligence team. At the height of the action, I had a dozen assassins on my team, helping me keep democracy safe. During my down time I performed freelance hits for the mob.
Six months ago I managed to steal billions of dollars from some of the world’s most lethal people. After banking the big score, I retired from the government and mob killing jobs. I’d been told that once in, you can never get out alive, but I had a plan. First, I told both organizations I would consider future requests for work. Second, I set up five hundred million dollar annuities for Darwin, my Homeland Security boss, and Sal Bonadello, crime boss for the Midwestern United States. The money would be paid to their numbered accounts monthly by my lawyers, a million dollars a month for the rest of their lives, and their kids’ lives, with one stipulation: all future payments would cease upon my death.
My plan worked.
Darwin and Sal no longer want to kill me.
They want to protect me!
Lou Kelly was a trusted member of the team that helped me obtain the huge score, and because of all our years together, his share of the take was also five hundred million, all in cash. Unfortunately, during the heist, the size of the prize got to Lou, and he tried to kill me and take my share.
Despite our trust issues, Lou and I were able to rebuild a working relationship. I let him keep his half-billion dollars from the heist, along with his life, and in return he provides the intelligence and computer expertise I require from time to time.
Lou is the best in the business. He had the answer on Jinny before I finished packing, and that’s fast, since I travel light.
“She’s on location in Hannibal, Missouri.”
“Which hotel?”
“No hotel. A Trailer. In Riverview Park.”
“A trailer?”
“A movie star trailer. Trust me, it’s nice.”
“What type of security do they have?”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” he said, and we terminated the call.
I contacted one of the many charter flight companies in Chicago I knew, and selected a Lear 45 for the short flight. As I boarded and waited for the engines to fire, Lou called to describe what the satellite photos had revealed about the security team guarding the actors’ trailers in Riverview Park. Thirty minutes later I touched down at Hannibal Regional Airport.
Lou Kelly used to book my jets and drivers, but like I said, the trust ain’t what it once was, so I’ve been forced to handle my own travel arrangements. Climbing down the jet’s gangway, I was pleased to see my driver waiting beside a black sedan with all four doors open, as I’d specified.
“Can I trust you?” I said.
“Of course, sir.”
“Your name?”
“Harrison Ford.”
“Okay, Harrison. Please remove your jacket and place it on the hood of the car. Then assume the position while I pat you down.”
“Sir, I can assure you—”
“I’m sure you can, and I’ve told you how. Now let’s see you do it.”
I noticed the pilots standing beside me appeared to be concerned. I shrugged at them as if to say, “What’s with this guy, huh?” But that seemed to make them even more nervous, so I said, “Relax. I’m good with you guys.”
The Lear captain said, “His name really Harrison Ford?”
“It’s a code name. Still, you can’t be too sure with a new driver.”
I saw them give each other an uneasy look.
“Guys, I spent weeks checking you out. I know everything about you.” I paused, looked them squarely in the eyes, and said, “Everything. I could demonstrate my knowledge of your lives, but you already seem nervous enough. Let’s just say we’re cool. I’m sure Harrison Ford will become a trusted friend tonight, as well. It’s just that I haven’t had time to check him out yet. Hannibal’s a small town, and I don’t have any contacts here.”
My reassuring talk with the pilots didn’t have the effect I intended, so I shrugged, patted my driver down, searched his car, and found nothing more sinister than a couple of tuna fish sandwiches and an unopened bottle of water. I had him climb in first, and I took the rear seat directly behind him, and we drove to Riverview Park, where I saw the movie set guards on duty.
“Keep driving,” I said. He took me a quarter mile past the entrance, then I had him turn right on a road that ran parallel to the park. “Follow it to the end, and let me out. Meet me here when I call, which I’m guessing will be an hour or so.”
He dropped me off and I jogged across the grass, toward the trailers that housed the movie stars. It was a short run, well under a mile, and when I came up behind Jinny Kidwell’s trailer, I could see there were no guards stationed there, which confirmed Lou Kelly’s suspicion that they were rental cops, not pros. I picked the lock and entered her trailer through the back door.
Once in, I realized I was alone. I knew Jinny was on site, so I decided to wait in her bedroom. While waiting, I took out a penlight, held it in my teeth, and searched through her belongings.
Forty minutes later I heard her come in the door. Lou had told me that Jinny’s husband, Pete Rossman, was here from time to time, but I could tell from the sound of the footsteps out front that she was alone. She busied herself in the kitchen a few minutes before entering her bedroom.
I had my hand over her mouth before she’d gone three feet. She tried to scream, but my thumb was pressed so hard against her neck that all she could manage was a whisper.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” I said, “I just want some information. Do you understand?”
She did her best to nod.
“That said, if you make a sound louder than a whisper, I’ll kill you. Do you believe me?”
Again, she tried to nod.
“Good. I’d hate to harm you in any way, since I’m a huge fan. I’m only here to ask you about a company called Wish List, a guy who works with them named Rudy, and a guy with whom you recently had sex, named Buddy Pancake.”
The light from the hallway illuminated her face. She appeared gaunt, and ill.
“Relax, Jinny. All I want is information, okay?”
Her green eyes were big as saucers, and full of fear. She mouthed the words, “Please. Don’t hurt me.”
I said. “Are you sick? I have a thing about germs.”
She shook her head no.
“Anorexic?”
She shook her head again.
“I saw you last week on the Academy Awards. Nice dress.”
She nodded.
“Guess the TV really does add ten pounds, huh?”
Her body was trembling. A couple of tears spilled from her eyes.
I said, “I’m going to remove my hand. For the record, I’m okay if you want to scream. But if you do, I’ll have to kill the guards. I’m only asking you to whisper in order to protect them. Other than being inept, they haven’t done anything wrong, and don’t deserve to die. But it’s your call.”
I released my hold on her neck, and helped her sit on her bed.
“Can I switch on the light?” she said.
“I’d like that.”
She turned the knob on her bedside lamp and looked at me. She rubbed her neck.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Let’s do it this way,” I said. “Why did you have sex with Buddy Pancake?”
Chapter 3
Jinny Kidwell gave me some bullshit story about paying back into the system that helped her become a star, but I wasn’t buying. I covered her mouth again with my left hand, produced a switchblade in my right, and told
her I was serious about getting some answers.
Jinny was a beautiful, pampered star, and I figured getting her to talk would be as easy as getting the President to do a photo op.
But I was wrong.
When I removed my hand from her mouth, she said, “It’s okay if you want to kill me.”
“I don’t want to kill you. I just want to know why you fucked Buddy Pancake.”
“You’ll have to be content with the answer I gave you.”
I frowned. This was new territory for me. Usually, I make a threat and people shit all over themselves. There could only be one explanation.
“You don’t believe I’ll kill you,” I said.
“I do believe it.”
“The answer you gave me about paying back into the system was a lie.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re refusing to tell me the truth?”
“Yes. I’m refusing to.”
“Why?”
“I—I can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Won’t.”
“Then I’ll have to kill you.” I moved the knife to the edge of her throat.
She started to cry. “Wait,” she said.
I smiled.
But instead of telling me the truth, what she said was, “Before you kill me, can I call my husband and tell him I love him?”
Chapter 4
I didn’t kill Jinny Kidwell at that time.
Instead, I looked into those endless eyes and said, “I’m obviously missing something. Something so important to you it’s worth dying to cover up.”
We sat on the bed a minute, looking at each other. Outside the trailer, maybe a mile down river, I heard a muffled whistle, as a barge prepared to navigate the next section of river.
“Maybe the best question isn’t why you slept with Buddy Pancake,” I said. “That was obviously a payback.”
Jinny looked at her hands in her lap and said nothing.
“I should have asked about the wishes you made.”
She said, “There were three silly ones, and the one I’m willing to die for.”
“And this huge wish required the payment of sleeping with Buddy Pancake?”
“And giving him a million dollars in cash.”
“What else have you had to do?”
“Tell my husband what I’ve done.”
“And?”
“And I had to get him to make four wishes of his own on the website.”
“And he did?”
She shrugged. “He loves me.”
“So you have two more payments to make?”
“That’s what they tell me.”
“Rudy?”
“And the others.”
“You know their names?”
“No.”
“Scary guys?”
Her face took on a thoughtful expression. “Not as scary as you. No offense.”
If Jinny wasn’t afraid of what they might do to her, she must be afraid of what they might not do. Like grant her wish. I took a minute to ponder what Buddy had told me about the wishes and paybacks. “How many of your wishes have come true?”
“Three.”
I nodded. “The little ones.”
“So far.”
“And you’re waiting on the big one.”
She nodded.
“And the big one is so important that if it doesn’t come true, something will happen that is worse to you than dying tonight.”
She didn’t reply.
“You were willing to have sex with Buddy Pancake and give him a million dollars. What else would you be willing to do to get your wish?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, and two little puddles of tears raced each other down her cheeks.
I said, “Are you aware they made Buddy Pancake kill someone tonight with his bare hands?”
She gave me a sudden look of horror. Then her facial muscles went slack and she stared at her hands again. I watched her go through these emotions with great curiosity.
“You’re willing to sleep with a complete stranger, pay a million dollars, and even let people die in order to get this wish?”
She didn’t look up, didn’t speak, but her shoulders moved slightly, and I could tell she was crying softly.
“And just so we’re clear, you’re willing to let me kill you rather than tell me what you wished for.”
She finally looked up at me. Adding in the fact that Jinny Kidwell is damned good at what she does for a living, I could tell she wasn’t acting. She was in anguish, and her face ran the whole gamut of looks. She was frightened, horrified, humiliated, defeated…and somehow, hopeful.
“Must be one hell of a wish,” I said.
Chapter 5
“Please, Mr. Creed. I have a wife and kids at home.”
It was 1:30 a.m.
At seventy-five miles per hour with no stops along the way, Hannibal to Louisville is a five hour drive. Harrison Ford was too jittery to handle the wheel, so I fastened him to the front passenger headrest with sealing tape to help him stay put. That was two hours earlier, and he hadn’t stopped blubbering since.
“You’re an annoying person,” I said. “Anyone ever tell you that?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be.”
“I’d hoped you’d find this fun. I’d hoped you’d want to be my regular driver whenever I’m in the area. But you don’t seem to have the temperament for it.”
“I don’t. I just want to go home.”
“So you’ve said. A hundred times.”
“Can you just give me a rough guess as to when that might happen? If you can tell me that, I’ll feel a lot more comfortable.”
I looked at him and shook my head. Our relationship wasn’t working out. “Look, Harrison,” I said. “You’ll be back with your family tomorrow afternoon, Tuesday at the latest, dead or alive.”
That made him even more nervous, so I added, “You have my word on that.”
“Dead or alive?”
“Your choice. How you behave today makes a big difference.”
“If I don’t call my wife, she’s going to be worried. If I don’t come home, she might call the police.”
“She’s not expecting you before midnight. But don’t worry, you can call her at the next stop.”
“When will that be?”
“Couple hours.”
“I’m going to need to pee before then.”
“Feel free to do so. It’s your car, after all.”
“Look, Mr. Creed, you can’t just—”
I knocked him unconscious with my fist. Something I should have done hours ago.
Two hours later we crossed the Crawford, Indiana county line into Harrison. I took the first exit and doubled back on the two lane to a gravel road I’d used a couple of times before that led to a dense, secluded area. After a few minutes I found the dirt road I was seeking, and followed it until it dead ended in the woods. I put the limo in park and kept the lights on.
Then I got out and walked to the back of the car and opened the cabin door and pulled Jinny Kidwell’s lifeless body off the back seat.
Chapter 6
Jinny was unconscious, not dead, but by the time I got her wrist chained to a tree in the deep woods, she had begun to stir. I chained Harrison Ford to another tree, twenty feet away. I didn’t know how long I’d be gone, and didn’t want my prisoners to get dehydrated, so I took six bottles of water from the limo bar and divided them up, along with the blankets I’d brought from Jinny’s trailer.
Then I forced Jinny and Harrison to scream at the top of their lungs, until their voices were raw, and waited to see if anyone showed up to help them. No one did. I drove away, waited twenty minutes, then returned, and found them sitting by their respective trees, crying. I think they’d probably gotten their hopes up when hearing the car approach, but were saddened to learn it was me.
I hung around a few minutes and listened patiently as they gave me all their reasons why I shouldn’t leave
them there, and then I left them there.
Chapter 7
Buddy’s house was a baby shit yellow split-level ranch, with green shutters and clogged gutters. It was the second house on a wide, tree-lined street that featured a dozen similar homes. Buddy and Lissie’s subdivision consisted of six through streets and four dead-end cul de sacs, eighty-three homes in all. A nice middle-class subdivision, from what I could tell by jogging it twice and studying everything within my field of vision. Specifically, I was looking for anything out of place: a limo other than mine, a van that might contain people with surveillance equipment, gangsters guarding the house, a mariachi band, a conga line filled with cartoon characters…
But nothing caught my eye except for the sad-faced octogenarian two blocks over, who walked to the center of his yard to retrieve his newspaper. He stood out because he was dressed in nothing more than an open bathrobe and a giant adult diaper.
“You think it’s easy?” he yelled. “Huh? You think it’s easy?”
I had no idea. But it looked pretty easy. As I passed him he yelled, “I get no visitors! You think it would kill them to show up once in a while? All I ask is one time, to have some visitors.”
I made a mental note of his address.
Other than him, I saw nothing. Buddy was right. These Wish List people were good.
What I did expect to see was Buddy. On his porch, out by his mailbox, looking out his window, or just standing in his driveway. After all, we had an appointment. Having offered me a million dollars to protect his wife, he’d have been here, if he had a choice.
I needed to establish contact. Unless I broke into his home, I wouldn’t know if anyone was holding a gun on him and Lissie. And if someone did happen to be inside, guarding them, I could get killed trying to break in. Therefore, a phone call seemed in order.
Buddy had told me his phone was bugged, but I didn’t intend to say anything that should raise any eyebrows. But when I called, Lissie answered frantically.
“Buddy?”
I disguised my voice. “Actually, I’m calling for Buddy. Is he there?”