1 Hot Scheming Mess (32 page)

“You’d do it for us in a heartbeat,” said Target, “and we all know that.”

Madison craned her neck over the crowds. Agent Riley was on his cell phone, storming up the aisle towards her, his expression furious.

He arrived in a huff, saying, “I just got a call from Mitch Clark. You sent a fucking text? You mentioned DC?” He yelled, “What the hell were you thinking?”

ExBoy inserted himself between them. “Hey, fairy ass, back off!”

“I’m sorry!” said Madison over ExBoy’s shoulder to Agent Riley. “I sent it before you told me about the phone tapping.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” he yelled.

Without saying a word, Jason shoved him hard, and Agent Riley almost came at him, but controlled himself at the last second. With one hand on his hip, and the other rubbing his forehead, he said, “We were thinking of calling if off anyway. Your little family reunion went badly, with your mother storming out. She could ruin this if she’s seen. Your grandfather went after her, we don’t know where Veronica went, and Vladik is already with Jerry.” He tossed his hands went in the air as he groused, “They only sent two of us, and we can’t babysit everyone!”

He pointed at her, his voice still angry. “So you stay here while we sort out this mess.” He stormed off.

Just then, the phone in Madison’s hand started ringing with the theme music to
Jaws
. Embarrassed that she still hadn’t changed the ringtone to something nicer for her mother, she confessed, “That’s my mom calling. Oh God what am I going to say to her?”

She looked up at her perplexed friends, knowing there would be a lot of explaining to do, but right now, her mother was more important.

She took a deep breath, calming herself as much as was possible, and answered. She was not prepared for what she heard.

From her cell phone, Jerry’s voice said, “Listen and don’t react. We wouldn’t want your new little fairy friends to get too excited.”

Chapter Thirty One

“We’ll keep it simple. Vladik tells me there was an interesting box that you rushed out of Vincent’s house with,” said Jerry. “I’m very curious about it. Now nod your head and say I understand, Mom.”

Madison nodded her head, her voice coming out small, “I understand, Mom.”

“Very good,” he said. “You know, she tried her best for you, but you were an ungrateful little shit. I almost felt sorry for her. There she was, brilliant like her mother, but stuck with you. I’ll bet you never apologized to her. Why don’t you do so now? Say, I’m sorry, Mom.”

Fear was making her voice shake now, “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Well,” he said, “I guess some of it is the influence of this generation. They don’t grow them like they used to. Even this newer generation of agents is a joke. It’s been so easy to play these guys.” He sighed. “Ah, well. Fun’s almost over. Now ask your mom when you can see her.”

“Mom?” Madison’s voice shook, “When can I see you?”

“Well now that depends. Would you like to see some blue satin gowns?”

“What?” Like a bad dream where unrelated things added to the confusion, Madison tried to grasp his meaning. “Blue satin gowns?” Target stepped closer.

“Yes, they’re quite lovely. Bring the contents of that box, and you’ll get to see them.”

Madison looked up at Target, worry reflected in her eyes. She looked around inside ExBoy’s booth, and spotted her tote bag that Target had taken with her when they’d switched clothes and bags that morning.

“Okay,” said Madison, trying to smooth the expression on her face while she picked up the tote bag, putting the straps over her shoulder.

“Wonderful. Say, I’ll rush right over.”

She couldn’t look any of her friends in the eyes as they watched her, confused. She said, “I’ll rush right over.”

“There’s a lovely wedding reception going on right now,” said Jerry. “It’s up on the second floor. You should sit with your Uncle Jerry for a spell. Say, that sounds great, Mom, just the two of us.”

Madison cleared her throat, trying to regain control. “That sounds great, Mom. Just the two of us.”

“And so we understand each other; if you really do want to see your mother again, you’ll get your little ass up here, alone, in less than three minutes. I suggest the stairs. The elevators are prone to have fairies in them.” He hung up.

She sprang down the aisle not seeing or caring about the destruction she left behind her. People were pushed aside, packages dropped, drinks splashed, and brain shaped gelatin treats smashed to the floor. Holding her right arm down tight on the tote bag at her side, she ignored the numerous bruises being born on her legs and hips as she rounded corners a little too tight. Painful table edges left marks. Like a bad dream in her peripheral vision, the chaos in her wake held no urgency compared to the greater nightmare waiting at the finish line. She flew out of the main convention doors, back out into the main lobby of the hotel.
How much time!? How much time has passed?

She came to a stop that wasn’t really a stop since she was hopping up and down, shifting left to right to left again, as she whipped her head all around, searching the periphery of the lobby, seeking the stairs. An agonized cry broke from her throat when she couldn’t see any stairs anywhere. “NO!” She spun around in time to see a young woman wearing a long strapless gown in sapphire blue satin just like the ones in the elevator that morning. The young woman had entered the main lobby from a hallway. Madison bolted for that hallway, racing so closely past the woman that a stroke of her leg slapped the edge of the satin gown, causing it to snap like a flag in fierce wind.

Running down the hallway, her hope was elevated as she saw that although this direction had more people and was harder to navigate, many of them were well-dressed as if they might be attending a wedding reception.

She dodged and pivoted around the wedding guests looking frantically for the stairs, finally spotting them. They were wide and carpeted with an elegant balustrade of dark wood, the type of staircase intended for making a grand entrance. Madison tried to fly up the stairs, attempting to take two steps at a time, but the steps were simply too deep for her stride. She ran one step at a time keeping away from the inner balustrade where most of the people ascending or descending had chosen to cluster.

Gasping for air, her burst of speed spent, Madison pushed onward as fast as she could, arriving at the mid-level landing. Easier running across the long flat landing allowed her a moment to look upward to see the well-dressed population thicken at the next level up, as music floated down to where she was. As she arrived at the top of the stairs, a few heads turned her way, a smile or a confused look, but some seemed to be making a statement by ignoring her so pointedly. No doubt the word had spread by now that there was a zombie convention going on downstairs, and one stray zombie wouldn’t ruin their fun. The tinkling of ice could be heard from the varying cocktails being held by the guests in the hallway, an open bar somewhere on this floor doing a brisk business.

Madison felt a new terror growing as she suddenly realized she didn’t know where to go from here. She had arrived at the open doors of the wedding reception but now what? Breathing heavy, her legs weak from the run, she stepped past the doors into the party. A male singer with too much reverb in the mix was crooning an old lounge jazz standard accompanied by a keyboardist, light on his fingers. The beat of the drummer’s brushes lent an attitude of an old time cool.

There was a small dance floor in front of the band with guests in fine attire, pulling out their best moves and grooves, a few of those sapphire blue gowns trying to shake what was covered by all that satin. On the edges of the dance floor were dozens of large round tables, each table seating eight to ten, like small islands of crisp white linen with flowered centerpieces. Clear plastic forks, leftover cake and drinks, or a jeweled evening handbag here and there were on the tabletops. A mirror ball at the ceiling spun, throwing little lights over the tables, dancers, and band. Laughter, music, and the occasional pop of yet another bottle of champagne, blended with the singer’s voice. And someone, somewhere in the crowd, sang along off-key while others begged him to stop.

A woman slapped a man not too far from where Madison stood, angry accusations drowned out by the man’s voice claiming the lady in his arms was the one kissing him.

Madison cried out a quick burst when Jerry suddenly stepped up alongside her, putting his arms around her with jovial laughter as if he’d just understood her joke. Guests nearby gave polite chuckles as if they’d heard the joke and understood it, too. He then led her to one of the round tables in the corner of the room. Sitting on the white tablecloth beside the flowered centerpiece were a few small plates with the remnants of wedding cake, the icing left with crumbles on the plates, and a few glasses with a bit of amber colored drink left at the bottom. Jerry appeared to have the table all to himself at the moment.

Incredulous at his gall and feeling angry with herself for letting her fear show, she raised her chin and said, “How did you manage to get yourself invited here?”

He smiled at her and shook with quiet laughter, saying, “I’m not invited. I’m a dignified old man in an expensive suit, who acts hard of hearing. They probably think I’m someone’s great-uncle.”

“Where’s my mother?”

“Don’t you mean where’s Vladik? I’m supposed to give you to him, you know.”

“I’m more interested in where my mother is.”

“We’ll get to that. First, I’m going to introduce you to Vladik Sakharovsky,” he said, his expression cold and indifferent. “Oh, wait, I forgot. You already met, then lied to me about it.” Madison had never seen this side of Jerry before, and it frightened her to see a childhood assumption so thoroughly wrong.

“You wanted what was in that box. Well, here it is.” She slammed the tote bag down on the table. “I want my mom.”

The band changed to another song with a harder rock beat. Guests were switching out on the dance floor, some sitting back down while others sprang up.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to play this,” he said with a mock disapproving tone. “I’m afraid you wouldn’t have made a very good spy. Not like your mother, or your grandmother, for that matter. Those two are naturals. Must have skipped a generation.”

A small scuffle broke out on the dance floor; the need for some of the guests to blow off some steam had other guests running up trying to stop the fight and barely succeeding.

Standing up, Jerry said, “Very well, then. Come on.”

Putting the tote bag back on her shoulder, she followed him along the edge of the room, heading in the direction of the band as the dance floor got crowded, then further on to the side of the band, down a short empty hall to a closed door. He unlocked and opened the door, holding it open so Madison could pass through. Out of habit when a man held a door open for her, she walked through, cursing herself for not being more careful. But the room looked harmless enough. There were chairs stacked on top of each other in the far corner on one side of the room. This seemed to be the room where the hotel stored the chairs being used at the reception party. On the other side of the room was a long flat push cart used to transport the heavy stacks of chairs to other banquet rooms. Currently there were linens and tablecloths haphazardly thrown on the floor in the corner by the push cart.

She heard the door close and click, as if it locked. She turned around, seeing Jerry smiling, walking towards her. She tensed up, ready to fight, but he walked right past her saying, “You should take some time to get to know Vladik. You’ll like him. He’s a lot of laughs when he’s feeling up to it, but he drank something that didn’t agree with him.” He walked over to the pile of linens in the back and pulled up a corner of one of the tablecloths.

There was Vladik’s body.

“Hmm,” said Jerry. “I guess he’s not feeling up to it anymore.”

Shock and nausea hit Madison, seeing him on the floor again like when he’d been unconscious in her grandfather’s house. But this time he wasn’t unconscious. He was dead.

She put her hand over her mouth, backing up into the wall. She heard a blend of ringing in her ears and rowdy party outside as the band’s driving beat came through the walls.

Jerry observed her coolly. “Do you understand now? Vladik outlived his usefulness because he wouldn’t do as he was told anymore. But you’re going to be smart and do everything I say, aren’t you?” From his front coat pocket, he pulled out a small revolver. “You don’t want to wind up dead.”

Madison yelled in her fright, “What have you done with my mom? Where is she?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have her. I don’t need her, if I have you.”

Madison blinked. “What do you mean you don’t have her? How’d you get her phone?”

“I didn’t. I made the wrong caller ID show up on your phone when I called you,” he said, then shrugged. “I used a phone app.”

Madison shook her head no. She couldn’t believe it was that simple.

“Yes,” he said. “And tracking you was just as easy. There’s a GPS built into your phone. All I needed was the device ID.” Madison remembered when he had her phone at the FBI building. He was supposed to be putting in his phone number.

The rowdy party outside was still muffled but getting louder, stronger. The music broke off in an odd staccato way, with each instrument out of sync. She felt lightheaded.

He said, “Now this is how it’s going to go. We’re going to leave this room. I’ll have the gun in my pocket, like this.” He put it away. “You’re going to understand that this is very real, and that you might survive this if you’re smart and do as you’re told. This could go very easy for you,” he said, patting his pocket. “But don’t get me wrong,” he gestured over to Vladik’s body, “I didn’t mind feeding that drink to old Vladik, but it’s inconvenient. It causes other problems. But if blood is called for, then it’s all the way. No impressive wounds that heal in time. There won’t be any healing from this. You either cooperate and get through it, or you don’t and you die.” He pulled out the key, unlocking the door. “Pretty straightforward really.”