Vendetta (21 page)

“You’re lying! I am my father’s only son. He will find and kill you. That’s a promise.”

Myra moved back to her chair and crossed her legs. She could have been discussing the weather. “No, that’s not a promise. One should only make a promise if one is prepared to carry through. I warned you about that once before. When we send you back to your family — the family who is
not
searching for you — you will be a freak of nature. Little children will run and hide when they see how ugly you are. Young women will turn away because you will offend them. Your father will hide you in some godforsaken place to live out your days. That’s what you have to look forward to, Mr. Chai.”

“Lies! Everything you say is a lie!” Chai screamed but there was no conviction in his voice.

“Very well, have it your way. But remember one thing, John Chai. It was a group of women who brought you to this point. Women. W-o-m-e-n! When you arrive at that godforsaken place where you will live out your days, you will remember all of us and what we did to you. You will dream about us and you will think about us every waking moment as we move on with our lives. We’ll be going to parties, weddings, eating wonderful food, making love with our partners, going to church, raising our children. We will
not
be thinking of you. And when you finally die, my daughter will be waiting for you on the other side.”

John Chai screamed and screamed and screamed until he was hoarse. Myra laughed, a cruel and bitter sound.

Myra opened the Thermos and poured coffee into the cup. She leaned back and sipped at it. Her thoughts carried her back in time to a warm, sunny day when she watched Barbara and Nikki riding their ponies. She was snapping pictures of the laughing group as Charles led both giggling girls around the fenced-in pasture. “Look, Mom!” Barbara shouted as she stood up in the saddle. “No hands, Mom!” Wiry little monkey that she was, she didn’t fall, to Charles’s relief. Not to be outdone, Nikki wiggled backward and slid off the pony’s rump. How they’d laughed that day. Myra made a mental note to look in the photo albums when she returned to the main part of the house.

“What else should we talk about, Mr. Chai? I’m trying to be hospitable here. Don’t scream, though, that irritates me.”

Myra poured more coffee into her cup before she moved the wooden chair closer to the cell door. “I think I’ll tell you about my daughter, the daughter you killed. I’ll tell you about her from the day she was born. I just want you to listen.”

Myra heard harsh noises coming from the cell and knew Chai was cursing her in every language he knew. She was glad he was hoarse. “Well, here we go. Barbara was born on a bright, spring day. It was the happiest day of my life. She had the most marvelous head of curly hair. By the way, your hair will never grow back, Mr. Chai. You will be bald-headed like all your Chinese ancestors. I’m sorry, I digress here. Barbara weighed…”

Kathryn walked into the bathroom and plopped a curly gray wig on her head. She withdrew a pair of granny glasses from her pocket and stuck them over her nose. Cotton puffs went into her mouth to plump up her cheeks. Two white tooth caps went over her front teeth, giving her a buck-toothed appearance. Her baggy sweater with the padding made her look like she’d gained a good twenty pounds and was twenty years older. She didn’t look anything like Kathryn Lucas.

She poked her head round the door of the bedroom to make sure both men were still asleep. She walked over to Jack and slid the thermometer into his mouth. When she withdrew it, she was glad to see his temperature had dropped down to a hundred. That had to mean he was on the mend. Lane was sleeping soundly, curled into the fetal position.

Kathryn looked down at the watch on her wrist. Another thirty minutes before they were due for their medicine. She admitted to herself that she was starting to get nervous. The original plan had been to move John Chai the night before, but he was still at Pinewood. That meant she had to stay on here an extra day. It was already late in the afternoon and she hadn’t heard yet if Chai was going to be moved tonight or not. All she wanted was to get out of here and back to Pinewood. Maybe the snow that was falling a little more heavily now had something to do with Chai’s transfer. She wondered if she dared to call Pinewood.

Kathryn walked to the kitchen and then out to the garage where she opened the door. She dialed the main number at Pinewood. Isabelle answered.

“What’s going on?” Kathryn demanded. “I’m getting cabin fever. Tell Nikki that Jack’s temperature dropped to a hundred. He’s going to be just fine. So, what do you know, if anything?”

“Not much. Julia left for Switzerland. We told her goodbye for you, hugged her and off she went. Nikki’s taking a nap. Alexis is making dinner. Yoko and I were watching some crappy Ninja movie on television. She loves that stuff. Myra is in the tunnel with Charles. No one said anything about moving the fucker tonight. I’ll call you back as soon as I know anything.”

The two women talked a few more minutes before Kathryn ended the call and walked back into the house. More hours to kill. She turned on the television and started to watch the same movie that Yoko and Isabelle were watching.

“This sucks,” she muttered.

In the bedroom, Jack Emery rolled to the side of the bed before he struggled to sit up. A wave of dizziness washed over him. He did his best to focus, but the room kept spinning round and round. He squeezed his eyes shut to try to ward it off.

Where the hell was he? He tried opening his eyes again to see if the world was still spinning. The room tilted, then righted itself. He opened his eyes wider. Directly in his line of vision was Mark Lane. Jack turned, then wished he hadn’t as the room started to whirl. He shut his eyes as his arm snaked out to grasp the post on the headboard. This wasn’t his room. He yanked at the Spiderman quilt. This wasn’t his, either. He opened his eyes to see Mark snuggled under a Batman quilt. Something tugged at his memory. Where had he seen these quilts? On television? Online? Damn, he had to go to the bathroom. The only problem was, he didn’t know where the bathroom was.

Jack struggled with his memory. He’d gone to see Nikki at Mulligan’s. He’d felt sick when he left the apartment to meet her and then when he went outside, he’d gotten snow in his shoes and his feet were wet and cold. His mother always said that when that happened you got
really
sick. Well, shit, he was really sick, more proof that the mothers of the world knew
everything
. He felt his forehead. It felt warm to his hand. “I must have a fever,” he muttered. Damn, he wished he knew where he was and where the bathroom was. But even if he knew, could he stand up to make it that far?

As he continued to struggle with his memory, Mark stirred and rolled over. He groaned and moaned before he settled back to sleep.

Jack stood up gingerly, his head swimming as he staggered toward the bedroom door. In the blink of an eye, he went down like a sack of wet noodles. He opened his eyes to see a pair of serviceable white shoes, the kind his mother used to wear, right in front of him. Nurse’s shoes. Was he in a hospital? He remembered Nikki saying he needed a doctor and would willingly take him to the hospital. He thought he had said no. Did he say no?

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he croaked.

“Back to bed, young man,” Kathryn said sternly. “I will fetch you a urinal. Do not get out of bed again unless I am here to help you.”

“OK, OK, but you’ll have to help me. Who are you? Where is this place? Why is my friend here? What’s wrong with me? How long have I been here?”

“So many questions! All in good time. Lie quietly and I’ll be right back.” Kathryn trundled off, coming down on her heels harder than necessary for effect. Where in hell was she going to get a urinal? She searched under the kitchen sink and came up with an empty tomato juice bottle. She quirked her eyebrow at the rather small opening, hoping that Jack Emery had a good aim. Back in the bedroom, she handed over the container and said, “We’re rather short on supplies, so I had to improvise. Sick or not, if you miss, you clean it.”

“What the hell!”

“There will be no swearing in my presence, young man. You will do well to remember that.” Kathryn turned her back and walked toward the door. It sounded like Niagara Falls behind her.

“I’m done and I didn’t spill it either. Now will you answer my questions?”

“I have to get your medicine ready, sir. Would you like some broth or hot tea?”

Would he? Jack closed his eyes as he tried to decide if he was hungry or not. He decided he wasn’t. He shook his head. Big mistake. The room whirled and twirled.

“What the hell is wrong with me? Where is this place? Where’s Nikki?” He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyelids with his fingertips until his world straightened out.

“You were a very sick young man. Miss Quinn brought you here for me to nurse you since you refused to go to a hospital. I’m a nurse. You are in my home. You had bronchitis that turned into pneumonia. You’ve been here for two weeks. At one point you were so worried about your roommate that Miss Quinn went to check on him. He was just as sick as you, so she brought him here. Today your temperature finally went down to a hundred. You still have a little way to go before you can shovel snow. I feel very confident in telling you that you will recover. You do, however, need nourishment. Perhaps later you will consider some Jell-O or some broth. Now, take these pills with this orange juice.”

Jack was too exhausted to argue. As he was drifting off to sleep something about the nurse and Mark tugged at his memory. Maybe when he woke up he could figure it out. Good old Nik. She must still love him to see that he got all this good care.

Nikki leaned over to turn on the lamp beside her bed. She didn’t have to look at the clock to know what time it was because she’d been staring at it for the past three hours. She never should have taken that two-hour nap earlier. Or maybe it was because she’d been too lazy to get up and turn the thermostat down. It was stifling in the room. She picked up Willie, walked over to the rocking chair and sat down.

“Ooof. Hey, sit on your own chair, Nik. Leave Willie, though.”

Nikki obediently got up and moved over to her own rocker. “Isn’t it a little late for someone from the spirit world to be visiting?”

“Shows you what you know, Nik. We never sleep. Stop being so upset. You know everything is going to be fine. Jack’s recovering nicely. I just came from there.”

Nikki threw her hands in the air. “What do you do? Do you just flit from place to place? You know that old saying, stick your nose in other people’s business and you have no one to blame but yourself if your nose gets chopped off. He’s not going to give up. He’ll keep coming back till he catches us or we make a mistake. Hey, how do you think your mom did with her revenge?”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a feel-good moment, but she had to do what she had to do. I thought it a fitting punishment. Mom’s one of a kind. I just hope she can find some peace now. You should go downstairs, Nik. The ambulance will be here soon to take Mr. Chai to a private hospital. Don’t you want to wish him bon voyage?”

Nikki looked over at the clock. Three hours past the witching hour. Three A.M. She got up to look out the window. “It’s snowing pretty hard. I doubt an ambulance, even if it’s an emergency, can get out here to the farm without a plow ahead of it. Maybe Charles will have to postpone his departure.”

“No. The ambulance is a converted Hummer. Those vehicles can get through anything. Mr. Chai is leaving. You should go downstairs, Nik. Mom might need you. She’s about ready to split her gut. You know how she can get sometimes. I’ll stay here with Willie. Go, Nik.”

Nikki hitched up the bottom of her flannel pajamas and sprinted out of the room. She found Myra pacing and wringing her hands in the kitchen. “What’s wrong, Myra?”

“What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Charles and I just had our first ever fight. Well, maybe it wasn’t a fight, more like a…ripe discussion. As usual, I lost. He thinks he can bring Chai up here by himself. I wanted to help but he said no. I’d like it if you’d wake the girls and go down to the tunnel to help. He needs to…to yell at someone besides me. Put your slippers on, dear.”

Five minutes later the group was on the way to the tunnel. Charles looked up, dismay on his face.

Nikki took the initiative. “This is
our
gig, Charles, and we’ll take him upstairs. Alexis, bring the ironing board over here.”

“The ironing board!” Charles exploded.

“Yeah, Charles, the ironing board. It makes a perfect gurney. He is sedated, isn’t he?”

“Of course he’s sedated. An ironing board! In a million years, I never would have thought of that. I was going to carry him over my shoulder.”

“OK, girls, let’s do it! We’ll slide him right off the bed and on to the ironing board. Alexis and Yoko, hold the board steady. Isabelle and I will slide him off. Myra, you tie those sheets around him so he doesn’t slip as we carry him up the steps.”

“What do you want me to do?” Charles asked.

Myra turned around. A wide grin stretched across her face. “Watch what a group of women can do when they set their minds to something, dear. You also have to get out of the way so we can do what we came down here to do. Oh, and Charles, you need to…What’s the word you spies use all the time? Ah, yes, sanitize this place.”

Charles saluted smartly before he turned around so the others, especially Myra, couldn’t see the wicked grin on his face.

At the bottom of the steps, the women looked at one another and then at the steepness of the stone steps. “Upper body strength is what we need here,” Nikki said. “Can you do it, Yoko? I’m OK with my end. If you are, Alexis will go first, Isabelle will be behind me and Myra will bring up the rear. Swing him around, Yoko, and I’ll go first since I’m taller. Lift your end as high as you can. Isabelle, you might have to help her. We can do this. On the count of three, up we go!” Nikki took a deep breath as she balanced the ironing board almost at shoulder level. “This guy isn’t exactly a featherweight.”