Dance For The Devil (23 page)

On the surface, Marvelworks would tick merrily along, but its assets would slowly trickle back to its parent companies. The tangled web of ownership was deliberately confusing to thwart enquiries. It might be possible to eventually figure it out, but by that time, Gil Vandercamp and his entourage would be long gone. By the time anyone managed to scratch the surface, Marvelworks, like its creator, would cease to exist.

More pressing problems. The Montclaire boy was not sufficiently entrapped yet. Jason, in hiding with the rest of the entourage, could be no more use in baiting Skeeter. Gil would have to rely on the other boys to reel Skeeter in, and he didn’t like relying on anyone. Too risky. He sighed and picked up a fresh pencil, reflecting that he had no choice. The possession of Skeeter Montclaire was essential to the total destruction of Jake.

That was problem
-number-one. Gil’s eyes narrowed as he thought about problem-number-two. He had a sneaking suspicion that Jason was becoming enamored of the other Montclaire spawn. Against strict orders, Jason had not yet engaged the girl in sexual activity. The hidden camera revealed only talking and a minimum amount of physical contact. Jason was clearly interested though, Gil observed, from watching his son’s demeanor change whenever he was with Amy. Jason would unconsciously stand taller, puff out his chest and deepen his voice. Amy wasn’t oblivious, either, indicated by the lowering of her gaze, heightened color, and the occasional physical gesture. It was like watching two skittish animals partake of a mating ritual and if he hadn’t been pressed for time, Gil would have found it fascinating. But, as it was, he had a schedule, and he needed the girl impregnated by the next full moon if his plan was to work at all.

A
light tap sounded at the door and Gil’s gaze hardened as problem-number-three entered the room. Suzanne. His loving wife.

“Sorry to bother you,” Suzanne was saying, “but I’ve got the decorator here and I need to know what color scheme you’d like for your study.”

“I’m in crisis here, Suzanne, and you’re worried about color schemes?”

S
he looked annoyed. “You know how important it is to me to arrange everything when we make these sudden moves. I need a sense of continuity, Gil, a sense of
home
, and so does Jason. Surrounding ourselves with decent decor takes the sting out of uprooting so suddenly. You should be grateful I’m doing this thankless task. Many women wouldn’t be so accommodating, you know.”

“Many women wouldn’t have sold their husbands out by giving a guided tour to the police.”

Suzanne pursed her lips. “Are you still on about that? I told you, they found your cellar all by themselves.”

“And you couldn’t do anything to stop them?”

“Like what? Forbid them to enter? They had a search warrant. If you recall, I had more pressing matters to deal with, like slipping out the back way and collecting you. Why are you so upset about this, Gil? It’s not like they found anything – you already moved your harem.”

“Don’t call them that. They’re breeders, nothing more. For the Church.”

“So you’ve said. I don’t know why you insist on keeping the filthy little things in our own home. It would be more fitting to have a stable or something.”

“I like to keep an eye on them, check their progress.”

Suzanne waved her hand airily. “Really, Gil, this whole subject bores me. I don’t care where you keep them, as long as you keep them away from Jason and me. Now, about your study. Your last one was lovely, but are you getting tired of traditional? I was thinking of something different.”

“For the love of Seth, no! Not that horrible art-deco crap you plastered all over Marvelworks.”

“No, I was thinking more along the lines of country-chic. Something Ralph-Lauren
ish
. Dark colors: burgundies and lush navies and deep, emerald greens.” She moved over to the windows. “Big, swooping drapes with frothy-white sheers. Lots of plaid and stripes, maybe a hunting-motif. A fireplace in the corner, a real one, mind you, with a huge, blazing fire. Not one of those insipid gas ones. Perhaps one of those walk-in types, what are they called?”

“I haven’t
a clue.”

“Try to be helpful, dear. We saw some in Scotland, remember? In those old castles.” She moved from the window and was studying the corner. “Yes, perfect. And you’ll need a dog, of course. A golden retriever.”

“Christ, Suzanne, do you have any idea how much this will all cost?”

She whirled around. “No, and I don’t care. Don’t you dare talk to me about money, Gil Vandercamp. After everything I’ve put up with over the years, don’t you dare quibble about money. How many women would stand by and –”

“Alright, Suzanne,” he cut in abruptly. “You’ve made your point. You’re a fucking saint.”

She gasped. “Gil, how could you?
”

“Sorry, ‘saint’ was uncalled for. You’re a fucking
demon
. The decor sounds fine, but I draw the line at the Retriever. If you absolutely insist on a dog, make it a Doberman.”

Problem-number-three left the room, somewhat mollified.

Gil frowned. He knew she told the cops about the basement key. What Suzanne, or nobody else, realized was that every inch of his houses and offices was secretly monitored. Nothing went on, day or night, even in the privacy of bedrooms and bathrooms, that Gil didn’t know about.

Suzanne had been with him for a long time, almost from the beginning. The love that began as lust had long since dissipated, developing into the more enduring emotions of tolerance and respect. Suzanne was good for him, and good for Jason. She was a highly-effective spouse, planning brilliant parties and exuding class and style. Never once had she behaved inappropriately by getting drunk or committing embarrassing sins such as flirting or exhibiting poor social graces. She was attractive without being
gaudy, and she always participated in all aspects of the church without so much as a grumble. Even in the more delicate matters.

On the downside, Suzanne spent money like it was falling through a sieve, but that was immaterial. Money wasn’t, and never had been, a problem.

Yet she couldn’t be trusted. Suzanne was becoming a problem. And, problems like Suzanne were easily eliminated.

**

Jason was back. Amy identified his hesitant footsteps, even with her eyes clenched shut. She uncurled from her fetal position and turned to face him, her face remaining unreadable.

“Hi.” He paused. “Look, Amy. It’s no use being mad at me. It’s not my fault you’re here. I’m only trying to help you.”

She forgot her resolve to remain silent. “It is too your fault – if I never met you, I’d be safe.”

“Or, you’d be like the other girls, with no one to watch out for you. Is that what you want?”

“No, idiot, that’s not what I want. What I want is to be out of here and back home, with my family.”

“I know.” He sat beside her, pretending not to notice her flinches. “Listen,” he whispered, cupping his ha
nd to her ear. “I’m working on it, okay? Don’t say anything out loud. These rooms are bugged.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“I agree. So,” he continued, his voice rising conversationally, “what’s new?”

“Gina went into labor last night. It was awful. She was screaming like crazy. I thought she was dying.” Amy shuddered. “I am never having a baby.” She thought for a moment. “What will happen to her?”

“She’ll come back here in a day or two.”

“And the baby?”

Jason hesitated. “The baby won’t be coming back.”

“I figured that out. But what I
meant was, what’ll happen to it?”

“It’s given to the church.”

“Like adoption?”

Jason turned away. “Not exactly. Let’s talk about something else, okay?” He fumbled in his pocket. “I brought you some chocolate. Snickers are your favorite, right? And here’s some extras for the other girls.”

Amy took the candy. “What did Gina have, a boy or girl?”

“What does it matter?”

“It doesn’t, I guess. Just curious.”

“If I tell you, will you stop bugging me about it?”

She nodded solemnly.

“A girl, I think. I could tell because everyone was disappointed. The church prefers boys.”

“Why?”

“Amy, you promised –”

“Why would boy babies be better than girls? That’s sexist.”

“I don’t know, just the way it is, is all. Don’t tell Gina, okay? She isn’t supposed to know what its sex was.”

“Why?”

“It might depress her.”

Amy nodded. That made sense.

“How do you like the new place?”

“Better than the last. My bed is way more comfortable, and it’s nice having TV and DVD. Helps pass the time. Thanks for getting them for me.”

“Anything else I can get for you?”

“Yeah, outta here.”

He winked and held his finger to his lips, mouthing,
‘
I’m working on it’.
Aloud, he said, “That’s impossible. I brought some sexy movies, want to watch?”

Her eyebrows went up. “Porno’s?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

Amy fidgeted for a moment. “Why not, nothing else to do. I’m so bored I’d even take school over this.”

Jason took a DVD out from under his jacket and popped it into the machine. Within moments, a naked woman appeared, heavily engaged in intercourse. A second man joined in, holding the woman’s legs wide open so the first man could plunge deeply. The woman massaged her breasts while arching her neck upwards to suck the second man’s penis and testicles. She moaned in ecstasy, and despite her misgivings, Amy felt warmth spread between her legs.

“Hot, huh?” Jason whispered.

Amy nodded mutely, eyes riveted on the screen. Jason nestled closer and began softly fondling her breasts. The tingling in her groin spread and she turned to Jason involuntarily.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jason whispered, kissing her neck. “I love you, Amy. No matter what else happens, remember that.”

**

“I’m glad you’re here,” Sergeant Carmichael told Jake and Cari as they walked into his office. “I was just about to phone you.”

“Oh? News about Amy?”

Carmichael motioned to the chairs. “You should be sitting to hear this.”

“Sounds ominous,” Jake said, his jaw tightening. “Give it to me straight. I can’t stand anymore pussy-footing around.”

Carmichael nodded
. “It’s not about your daughter. It’s your ex-wife. We found her.”

“Elizabeth? Where is she?”

The old cop hesitated. “Dumped in the bottom of Lake Mead.”

“Lake Mead? Where is that? California?”

“Arizona and Nevada. It’s close to Las Vegas. We got another anonymous tip – passed it onto the boys in California. Autopsy’s not completed – the body’s been there awhile, maybe months, but they found a length of wire around the neck, indicating strangulation.” He hesitated as he saw Jake’s face drain of color. “Sorry, but you wanted it straight.”

“Jesus.” Jake staggered slightly and felt his way to a chair, sitting heavily. “Jesus.”

“That poor woman.” Cari whispered.

“It never occurred to me that she could be dead,” Jake was saying, shaking his head. “Missing, yes. I figured Elizabeth was hiding, didn’t want
to be found. But dead! My God. And murdered? She didn’t deserve that, Christ, nobody does.” He hung his head in his hands. “How do I tell Skeeter?”

His anguish was excruciatingly real, and Cari touched his shoulder wordlessly and stroked it. Carmichael looked from one to the other. “I’ll need you to answer questions.”

“I don’t understand,” Cari said. “You think we had something to do with a death that occurred in another country?”

“Like I told Jake earlier, in a murder case, everyone’s a suspect.”

Jake was still holding his head. “Could this be linked to Amy’s disappearance?”

“Maybe.” Carmichael fiddled with a broken latch on his desk for a moment, contemplating. “What if Vandercamp is involved? What if Elizabeth’s death has everything to do with your daughter’s disappearance? What if Elizabeth was
lured
to Los Angeles in order to get her out of the picture? With mother gone, father and children are adrift, susceptible to intriguing offers?”

Jake looked at him, shaking his head. “All so Gil could abduct Amy? No, that doesn’t make sense. He could have grabbed her in Toronto.”

“But not with the added bonus of ruining you financially and professionally. It’s the perfect setup. Let’s go with the revenge theory for a minute. Vandercamp is consumed with revenge so he takes Elizabeth, willingly from the look of things. We tracked down a roommate who swears Elizabeth was happy to be in Los Angeles, and we know from talking to her agent that her acting career was doing reasonably well. That’s blow number one: your wife leaves you.

“With Elizabeth gone, the rest of the family mopes around, at loose ends, and when Vandercamp’s irresistible offer comes to begin life anew, you jump at it. Everything is handed to you on a silver platter: job, house, even your social life. Then, it’s all snatched away.”