Vendetta (17 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

Tags: #Mystery, #Romance, #Chick-Lit, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Contemporary

BOOK: Vendetta
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Jack thumped his beer bottle on the desk. “Do you still think I’m nuts? Let’s come up with a story and call those three embassies. Depending on the information we get, if any, I’m going to call Nikki and arrange a meeting.”

“Man, you do love living dangerously, don’t you, Jack? A word of advice. Keep remembering those gold shields.”

“Oh, yeah, how could I forget those gold shields? Start thinking, Mark. We need to come up with a sympathetic story for the Chinese.”

Julia peeled off her latex gloves and tossed them in the trash. “You have to keep the ice pack on for as long as you can stand it. Ideally twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. Since you refused to go to the hospital, I did the best I could. If that monster had used the palm of his hand to push your nose in up to your brain, you’d be dead, Charles. Be grateful, if you can, that your nose is just broken. I’ll check the packing tomorrow. I have pain pills if you need them. For now, I’d take a couple of shots of whiskey. I know, I know, you want your wits about you. I just want you to know I have the pain pills if you need them.”

“Thank you, Julia. I’m going to clean up and change my clothes. Make more tea, Myra.” This last was said to give Myra something to do so she wouldn’t blame herself for the incident in the tunnels.

“I’ll do that, Charles. Tea is such a…a wonderful thing. Hot tea. Real tea. Sugar tea. I love tea. Charles loves tea. Everyone loves tea…I really don’t feel like making tea,” Myra said, sitting down with a thump. “That…that scurrilous man. We should break his legs, gouge his eyes out, pull out his tongue and…his toenails and fingernails, too. He could have killed Charles and seriously hurt you girls. What kind of person is that man?”

Nikki’s voice was soothing. “Charles is fine. We’re all fine. We learned a lesson. And we’re all grateful to Yoko. Don’t worry about the tea. We’re up to here,” Nikki said, motioning to her throat, “with tea. You need to relax now or you won’t be any good to us. We need you. Charles is fine. Are you listening to me, Myra?”

“Of course I’m listening. Thank you so much, girls. We do work well together, don’t we?”

“We’re the best,” Kathryn said. She turned to Yoko. “Baby, you need to teach us how to do all that stuff you did down there. When you have time, that is.”

“It will be my pleasure, Kathryn. Anyone can learn the movements. The real art is in cleansing your mind and being one with what you are doing. It is instinctive to a certain degree.”

“I can do that,” Kathryn said. “Well, I think I can do that. I don’t know about the Buddhist part, though. The last time I looked, I was a Baptist.”

“I will overlook that part,” Yoko said and giggled.

Charles appeared in the doorway wearing a blue flannel shirt and khaki corduroy trousers. He looked madder than hell. The women sobered instantly as they rose to follow him to the tunnels.

Last in line, Nikki felt her cellphone vibrate in her pocket. She motioned the others to go ahead of her when she saw the number of the caller.
Jack Emery
. She retraced her steps to the kitchen and sat down.

“Hello, Jack.”

“Hi, Nik. How are you?”

“I’m well. How about you? Do you miss the DA’s office?”

“At times. I’m just one of those people who doesn’t react well to coercion, cover-ups and the like. Anyway, that’s not why I called you. I figured it out. All of it. I’m giving you the courtesy of this call before I blow the whistle on your little operation.”

Nikki grew so light-headed she had to hold on to the chair. “Jack, why are you doing this? You’re obsessed. You need to give it up and get on with your life.”

“Tell me if I’m wrong about this. You brought John Chai back here to the States. You had him right there at Pinewood. Dr. Webster was an old lady and then she was a cowgirl. How’m I doing so far, Nik?”

Nikki thought her heart was going to jump out of her chest. “Are you drunk, Jack?”

“No, Nik, I’m not drunk. You guys use Lucas and her rig. I know all about the black girl and her red bag. This is just a heads up, Nik. Do you want to meet?”

Nikki thought she was going to choke on her own saliva. Somehow, she managed to say, “OK, Jack, one more time. I’ll meet you tomorrow morning at Mulligan’s if you can afford breakfast. Eight o’clock.”

“Good. Mulligan’s at eight. I’m flush enough for donuts and coffee.”

Nikki blinked when the line went dead. She shoved the cellphone back into her pocket. She was shaking so badly she had to bend over to take deep breaths before she raced to the tunnels. Right now she didn’t have time to think about Jack and his threatening phone call. She’d think about all that later.

The rap music was turned off but the lights were still blinding. No one questioned Nikki about her phone call. The women had donned their hooded robes and Nikki slipped into hers, not fully understanding the significance, but thinking that if it was what Myra wanted then she would do it. Maybe they used black robes in China for this sort of thing. She was still so light-headed after Jack’s phone call that she couldn’t think straight.
How did Jack figure it all out? Was he guessing? Did he have proof? Would he really turn her and the others over to the authorities?


There you are, dear. Is everything all right? You look pale. Mr Chai is securely trussed up, so don’t worry about him getting loose.”

Nikki shivered inside the flimsy black robe.

I’m all right, Myra. How are you holding up?”

“Just fine, dear, now that I know Charles is all right. I did have a few bad moments there. I can’t say I blame our guest for going berserk. Under the same circumstances, I would fight like a tiger. I think most people would. Mr. Chai seems to have accepted his present situation, at least for now. He looks quite docile, don’t you think?”

“He’s tied up, Myra, he really doesn’t have any choice. If he moves or struggles, his bonds cut into his flesh.”

“He’s not quite as belligerent as he was before he threw his little…tantrum that we managed to squelch. He’s such an…an unsavory person,” Myra said, always the lady.

“He’s a ring-tailed son of a bitch, Myra,” Nikki said through her clenched teeth.
And Jack Emery knows all about him.

Nikki drew Myra aside and whispered. “Did you and Charles decide what we’re going to do with Chai once this is all over?”

“I’m not sure, dear. I think the plan is to drop him off at the Chinese embassy. That may have changed since we discussed it. We did discuss sending him to England. Personally, I don’t much care where he goes or what he does once I get finished with him. Do you have any suggestions, Nikki?”

“If something comes to me, I’ll let you know. Are you ready, Myra?”

“I’m ready, dear.” Myra reached for the bamboo cane.

Sixteen

It was a ceremony of sorts. The seven women stepped aside so that Myra could go to the head of the line. Charles’s expression was inscrutable, his hands rock steady. This was his vengeance as much as it was Myra’s. Barbara was his daughter, too. It was his decision, not Myra’s, to keep it a secret, even from Barbara, who had loved him dearly. After her death, he told himself, over and over, some things were better left alone. His daughter’s death was one of those things.

Myra balanced the cane in her hand. It was heavier than she expected, which meant she would have to use both hands when it was time to strike the man standing in front of her. Holding the cane, she started the slow walk around the naked form of John Chai, the others close behind. Each of them took a minute to stare at the man they were going to cane. No one blinked; no one flinched.

John Chai begged with his eyes and then he sobbed as he pleaded for mercy. The women ignored him as they took up positions behind Myra. When Chai’s sobs stopped, the silence was so total it was deafening.

The women expected Myra to make a short speech but she didn’t. Instead she raised the cane and said, “You know why this is happening. Don’t insult me again by begging.” The cane found its mark in the middle of Chai’s shoulders, the tails flinging to the right and left. Olive-colored skin flew in all directions. The cane came down a second time across Chai’s buttocks, the tails striking him on his thighs. Blood and skin spurted outward. Chai squealed like a stuck pig. Myra lowered the cane and stepped forward to peer at the damage she’d done before she handed the cane to Kathryn.

Kathryn hefted the cane as though it was a javelin. She walked around to the front of the chair and, with the end of the cane, lifted his chin. “Look at me!” Chai squeezed his eyes shut. He whimpered like a sick cat. Kathryn backed up several steps, flexed the cane as she judged the distance and tried to figure out how much damage the tails could do. She backed up two more steps and in the blink of an eye the cane came down on Chai’s mid-section. He squealed again and again, cursing in Chinese as he sagged under his bonds. The cane came up again and Kathryn brought it down across his groin, the bamboo tails splitting every inch of skin they came in contact with. Chai passed out as Kathryn handed the cane over to Yoko.

Yoko aimed for Chai’s bald head and whipped the cane as fast as she could. Chai’s head and face were no longer distinguishable. She stepped back and handed the cane to Nikki.

Nikki gritted her teeth as she struck out with the cane to lash at Chai’s knees and legs, then she handed the weapon to Alexis, who walked behind the man to cane his thighs. She brought the weapon down twice before handing the cane over to Isabelle, who finished the job by caning the backs of the Chinese man’s legs.

Isabelle handed over the cane to Julia, who shook her head and whispered, “There’s no more flesh to cane.” She handed the cane to Charles, who did his best not to look at the flesh and blood sticking to the bamboo strips. He tossed the cane to the ground and walked over to John Chai to inspect his battered body. He nodded to the women that it was time for them to leave. None of them needed to be told twice. They scurried quicker than the rats as they made their way out of the tunnels.

In the kitchen, they looked at one another, their faces shocked at what they’d just done.

“Tea, anyone?” Myra said.

“Screw the tea, Myra, we need something a little more substantial. Where’s the hard stuff?” Myra pointed to the cabinet. Kathryn withdrew two bottles of hundred-proof brandy, and handed them around. “This is no time for social manners. Swig and pass the bottle around.” They didn’t sip, they gulped — even Myra.

“I never saw a skinned man before,” Alexis said hoarsely.

“Is it going to ruin your life now that you’ve seen it?” asked Kathryn, tougher than nails.

Alexis took another gulp of brandy before she responded. “Not one little bit.”

Julia’s voice was quiet, conversational. “He could get a massive infection and die.”

“Yes, that could happen, but it won’t. Charles knows exactly what to do. Mr. Chai is being taken care of as we speak,” Myra said. “However, the man will never be the same again. Now that we’ve exacted my vengeance, I want to thank you all for everything you’ve done to help me. Perhaps we should retire now.”

“Is there anything I can do to help, Charles?” Julia asked.

“No, dear, there is nothing for you to do. Charles has everything under control. Goodnight, girls.”

Their eyes solemn, the women waved to Myra as she made her way to the kitchen staircase that led to the second floor. They started to chatter the moment their leader was out of earshot.

“Will the man die, Julia?” It was the question they all wanted to ask, but only Yoko voiced it.

Julia poked her finger into the dirt of her plant sitting under the kitchen skylight. She stirred the loose dirt and then added a quarter cup of water to the healthy plant. “I don’t know, Yoko. If Myra said Charles has it under control, then I believe he does. I would imagine he has a large blanket that is spread with an antibacterial ointment. Mr. Chai will be given antibiotics and painkillers orally or perhaps by injection. I think the plan is to take him to a hospital in the next day or so after we…After we make a few suggestions.”

Nikki nibbled on her lower lip. “It had better be damn quick then.” At the women’s questioning looks, she told them about Jack Emery’s phone call.

“He’s on to us,” Alexis moaned, imagining life in a prison cell again. “My God, what are we going to do? Are you going to meet him? Why don’t you want Myra and Charles to know?”

“I didn’t want to spoil Myra’s…She waited so long. I guess I thought Charles would call a halt and go after Jack himself. I don’t know if I made a mistake or not. We need to make a plan, girls.” The two brandy bottles continued to circulate around the kitchen table.

The ever-verbal Kathryn spoke up. “It sounds to me like Jack Emery has really pieced everything together. We can’t pretend we don’t know about it for your sake, Nikki. And let’s not forget his friend Mark Lane.”

All eyes turned toward Nikki. They waited. Her voice was cold and tight when she said, “I agreed to meet him to stall him so Myra could have her revenge this evening. What else could I do? Look, if you’re worried about me, don’t be. I know where my allegiance lies. I’ll do whatever I have to do as long as we all agree.”

Isabelle asked, “Are you still in love with Jack?”

Nikki leaned back in her chair. Her first reaction was to lie but then she answered truthfully. “Yes. But, that doesn’t change anything. Jack is prepared to go to the authorities, and I belong to the group, so he won’t bat an eye about turning me in if he has proof. But the operative word here is
proof
. Does he have any? I don’t know. Is he blowing smoke? I don’t know. He’s got his theories and those theories are on the money. Sooner or later, someone in authority is going to listen to him. I’m surprised he hasn’t gone to some newspaper reporter. I think we’re safe until he does that. The flip side to that is then it’s too late for all of us. So, let’s spin this. I’ll go with the majority.”

Upstairs, Myra sat down on the top step and hugged her knees. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Murphy did his best to lick them away. Myra reached out to stroke the shepherd’s head.

“Mom, you need to tell Charles.”

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