Vengeful Bounty (15 page)

“Oh, how funny,” I whispered to myself, smiling. “How cute.”

Jackson.

Would it be a bad idea for me to tell him about Damon?

Probably.

At least for now.

Might complicate things. He might be like most men and try to take advantage of a woman when she was admittedly a bit vulnerable. Plus, at that moment, my trust level when it came to men was in the negative zone.

Still…

I needed to call and thank him. Man, it looked expensive, too.

Dialing his number, I ran my finger over the smooth marble back of the frog. What had brought this little gesture on? His phone rang once. Twice. It was touching to know that he'd been paying attention to our conversation enough to remember the bit about my pet frog. But he didn't have to buy me anything. Unanswered ringing continued a couple more times.

The memory of Colt and the cat necklace he was going to give to Deirdre flashed in my mind.

Okay, I'll confess. I was more than a little disappointed when Jackson didn't answer; it was only the cheerful, prerecorded message, “Hey, this is Jackson! Sorry I missed ya. Leave me a message!”

Beep!

“Jackson, it's Mina,” I said to his voicemail box. “I got your gift. It's adorable. Douglas would have been thrilled to know he had an honor like this. He probably would've hopped all over it.”

I turned the music box to look at it from all angles.

Damon had never bought me anything like this.

My eyes misted over, and I hurried to finish the message before my voice cracked.

“Anyway,” I continued, “thank you. It's—it's really nice of you. Thank you. I, uh, I guess I'll talk to you later. Bye, Jackson.”

Placing the music box in my lap, I grabbed a Kleenex off the end-table next to me and blew my nose.

Twisting the turn-key, I sniffed back new tears that threatened to flood my face. Jeez, I was going to ruin my makeup if I didn't cut it out. Better suck it up and be strong or my eyes were going to swell shut. Mom would surely complain.

I sighed with firm resolve and let go of the tiny metal crank.

The tinkling sound of a familiar song emerged from the music box:

Debussy's “Reverie.”

17

Mom would, of course, pick a place with impossible parking. I didn't feel like messing with a valet. For one, I didn't trust them. Secondly, I wasn't in the mood to socialize with anyone, even two words. I would've given anything to cancel tonight's get-together and curl up in bed with Rogue. My eyelids weighed about two tons each.

I drove up and down the street, trying to find a spot. I finally gave up and turned onto a darker, adjacent street, whose streetlamp had gone an eerily dim orange color. Hair shops, trinket stores, and dessert parlors along the road had closed around 9:00 p.m. Mom liked to eat late. I parked in front of a little shop with guitars painted like pottery from Santa Fe, New Mexico, in the display window. The store's little “Paz y Amor: Musica Latina!” sign had been turned off, the letters a connected trail of sleeping neon tubes.

It was probably a five-minute walk to The Electric Eel Sushi Bar, the place Mom had picked out. I didn't try to argue with her about how I hated sushi and she should've known that by now. Nope, I'd try to find something on the menu to swallow without too much gagging and attempt to get through the evening's conversation as quietly and peacefully as possible.

The night was strangely still: no wind, the air neither hot nor cool. I tucked my purse underneath the car seat (I'd forgotten to find one that properly matched my outfit, and heaven forbid Mom notice). I took only my keys; I didn't even take my wallet with me because Mom would certainly have her fiancé pay for the food—she wouldn't be engaged to the lucky fellow if he wasn't loaded. Locking the vehicle, I stood outside of it, hesitating.

Wouldn't Mom be glad to know Damon had earned himself a death sentence (or at least a kick that would disable him from fathering any children) when he came back? She'd always told me he looked like he belonged in prison. I had a hunch that, had he been a millionaire, she would've descried him as “ruggedly handsome and street wise.” This nagging little voice told me to inform her about the truth I'd found out, but knowing her, she'd only puff up like a rooster and caw for ten minutes about how she'd been right.

I'd already called Dad. He was perfectly supportive and sympathetic, as Colt had been. Jenny had already started planning out a way we could inflict all sorts of tortures upon Damon. Mom? Nah, Mom would find a way to turn it back onto herself and how great she is. Never mind that.

My hand reached for the car door. Maybe I should drive away now and call her later, tell her I got sick.

No,
I said to myself.
Go and get it over with. Then you can rest easy for another year.

A squat Hyundai hover car rode past as I walked toward the sushi bar street. Funny, not a lot of traffic on the road where I'd parked. That and the dim street lamp didn't make for a very safe spot. Should I go back and park somewhere else? Turning onto the brightly lit road, alive with people chatting and laughing, cars whizzing by, and music streaming out of restaurant doors, I decided against re-parking. The clock tower a couple buildings ahead showed in Roman numerals that I was already about five minutes late.

A cute Asian hostess who looked 14 but could've been 24 held the door open for me and greeted me with a kind smile and a little bow. Another girl, slightly more angular in the face, asked me:

“How many?”

“Oh, I'm meeting someone here. Lucille?”

“Yes, ma'am,” she said, looking down at her list of names. “Just one moment, please.”

To my left was a wall of exotic fish, the water lit with cerulean blue lights from below. Long, skinny, yellow fish darted in and out of red coral; a lion fish floated up the side of the tank, its many feelers moving back and forth. A trio of clown fish nibbled at the surface of the water. Someone must have recently fed them. If the fishies only knew that all the people in here were eating their relatives raw with a dash of wasabi sauce. Ignorance sure was bliss.

Didn't I know it?

“Minaaa!” Mom's voice rang out above the live zither music. “Over here, darling! Oh, so glad you could make it!”

Rushing past the hostess to seat myself and avoid anybody any more embarrassment, I met my mother halfway and let her embrace me tightly. She stood a couple inches shorter than I was, even in her heels. Tonight she wore a thin, blue silk dress with a gold sash around the front. The neckline was high for her (still a dash of cleavage), but the hem was up so high on her thigh that I feared for the other patrons if she had to bend over. Pulling away from her embrace, I looked down at her. She'd lost weight, her body (aside from the fake boobs) feeling a bit too slight.

“Mom, have you been eating? You're looking so thin!” I said in a light enough voice that she could take it as a compliment if she wanted to. “My goodness.”

“Oh, well, thanks, honey,” she said, batting her spider-like lashes and adjusting the silk flower in the back of her hair, which was partially braided, partially pinned up in a bow-like bun. “I've been doing that new Z60K program. It's all the rage right now. My neighbor, Bette, lost 50 pounds doing it, and she has abs you could wash laundry on now!”

“Wow,” I said. How that could be attractive on a woman I would never know. “I bet she's really proud of herself.”

“She is! She is! But you look tired, dear. Your eyes are all puffy.”

I wanted to say,
And your breath reeks of sake.
But I didn't.

“Allergies giving me some trouble, that's all,” I said.

“Oh, I'm sorry about that. I could give you the name of a really good doctor. He prescribes the best stuff for me.” She leaned in to my ear and whispered, “Guy'll give you six-month's worth of codeine that dissolve like breath mints, just for coming in and giving him business! He's a lifesaver, works out of Beverly Hills.”

“Does he treat allergies?”

“Oh, hell, I don't know! But whatever ailment you have, you won't care after taking his codeine!” She let out a shrill laugh. Already well into her drinks. “Isn't that funny?”

“What's his name?” I asked.

“Frost. Vincent Frost. I can get you his number after dinner.”

“That's good.” I smiled, making a mental note to get all the contact info I could on him so I could give a detailed tip to the California police. “Well how are you?”

“Oh, grand, darling, grand!” She took my hand in hers and dragged me to her table. “Come this way! There are a couple of people I'd like you to meet!”

We weaved around several tables covered in colorful dishes of raw sea life and finally arrived at our destination, where a chiseled, clean-cut, handsome blond man sat. He placed a hand over his expensive-looking white button-down shirt and green silk tie and stood up.

“Mina, I presume?” he said, taking my hand for a kiss.

“Yes,” I said.

“I'm Adrian Eichmann, pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you, too.”

Holy mother of all cradle robbers. This guy was probably four years older than I was, if that. Mom could've given birth to this kid.

He pulled my chair out for me, and I sat down, letting him place my napkin in my lap. No wonder she had fallen in lust. He had money and he was a gentleman. I had half a mind to warn him right now that he would probably get dumped within the next year, and to sign a prenuptial agreement for God's sake, but I kept my mouth shut. Sometimes people had to learn things the hard way. He pulled Mom's seat out for her as well, and she sat, grabbing the back of his head to pull him in for a kiss before he seated himself.

“Pour Mina some sake, darling,” she said to Adrian. “Adrian and Albert are the proud owners of a brewery in Germany. It was left to them when their grandfather died several years ago. Didn't go to their father, even! Imagine how lucky! Their grandfather must've really liked my dear Adrian and Albert to pass up his own son!”

With well-manicured, tanned hands, Adrian took the slender porcelain-white bottle of warm Japanese liquor and poured it into a tiny square cup. I took a sip and nodded my head, even though I was sure that fresh dog piss probably tasted better.

“I'm not sure if he liked us more,” said Adrian. “Father just wasn't as interested in the brewery business. We seemed born to it.”

“Speaking of Albert, where did he go?” Mom asked, taking her chopsticks and picking at a flat plate of transparent baby octopus and shredded onions. “Mina, try this salad. It's divine!”

I used the slender end of one of my chopsticks to impale a tentacle and rolled it around in my mouth before biting down and chewing approximately 1,253 times before I was able to swallow.

“Mmm,” I said, taking a sip of sake to wash it down. Great, now I needed something to get the sake taste out of my mouth. “So who's Albert? Your brother, I'm guessing, Adrian?”

“Sorry, I had to use the little boys' room,” said a voice over my shoulder.

I looked up, then had to do a double-take. I thought Adrian had been sitting down? I turned. Well, Adrian was still sitting down. I looked back at the standing man. They looked exactly alike.

“This is Albert,” Adrian said.

Albert took my hand and gave it a kiss.

“Oh, you must be twins!” I said, finally getting it.

Albert took a seat right next to me, staring into my eyes a little too dreamily for my taste.

“Of course,” he said. “But technically I am the younger one, since I came out of the womb second.”

Mom laughed so hard I thought she'd turn purple.

“That is so funny!” she said. “Isn't it funny that they're twins, Mina?”

I let out a nervous chuckle, not liking at all the way that Albert continued to stare at me. I mean, the food was on the table. I wasn't edible, as his gaze so implied.

A waitress came by, and Mom ordered a sample of pretty much everything on the menu. I'd go for the California Rolls since they had cooked meat in them. I raised my hand and asked for a glass of water. As soon as the waitress left, an uneasy silence fell on the table.

The twins' eyes darted back and forth from my mother to me. I studied my napkin, trying to think of something to say, some conversation starter, but I was just so damned wiped out from all that crying that I was doing well simply sitting up in my chair. The live musician strummed an ambient little tune on the zither, whose sound mixed with the low chatter of the large dining room.

The twins started talking about some German movie, and Mom acted all interested in it. Fake, fake, fake. I, on the other hand, began to stare into space. Interesting how everyday things can seem so surreal when you've just been dealt an emotional blow. Little things like the grainy texture of wallpaper or the halo of brightness around an electric lamp. Like a sedative, exhaustion weighed me down and sent me into another realm. The strong Mina deep down was trying to tell me that the pain would pass, but all I could think about was how I'd been utterly lied to for so long. I'd been purposely kept in the dark. Deceived. What else was hidden from me? Who else was lying to me? What horrible truths would I find out next?

Finally, Mom broke my brooding.

“Mina,” she said, and I looked at her. “I showed Albert your pictures quite a while ago.” She smiled. “He wanted to know more about you. So I told him about what a well-rounded person you are, having gone to college, and how you're working as a journalist.”

“Oh, yeah?” I said. Funny how she'd failed to mention to him I was also a bounty hunter. Then again, Mom usually failed to register anything to do with bounty hunting. “Journalism's in the blood, I suppose. Started with my grandfather.” I glanced at Albert. “I guess we have that in common.”

He smiled dreamily, and I felt my foot anxiously start to tap. Willing it to stop, I picked up a chopstick and began to twirl it over my empty appetizer plate.

“Yes, well,” Mom continued with a coy look in her eyes, “Albert has fallen in love with you from a distance, and he would like to court you.”

The chopstick made a horribly loud clattering noise as I dropped it onto my plate.

I could feel the red flush creeping up my cheeks. I met Mom's eyes, death threats shooting out of my green orbs. If she sensed them, she ignored them.

“That is, if you're still single, dear,” she said, her voice cool, subtly telling me that I had a way out, but I'd better not take it because this was an opportunity she'd worked her ass off for. “Albert's a wonderful man with quite a fortune.”

“I—I'm not sure what to say,” I said, my hands trembling with rage. I wanted to strangle my mother. “I'm literally speechless.”

Mom kicked back the rest of her sake, and smiled from ear to ear. “He's quite taken with you, Mina!” Her shrill voice lifted a little too loud, and the table next to us craned their necks to see what was making that racket. “Would you give him a chance?”

“I—I'd have to think—”

“And the best part?” Mom said, grasping my forearm in her long-nailed grip. “We could be sisters!”

She smiled an open-mouthed grin, and I nearly fainted.

This was another nightmare. Any minute now the sharp-toothed Roberto was going to come into the restaurant and drag me away in chains, which would be preferable to this nausea-inducing situation. But after the pressure of Mom's nails started to hurt, I peeled each of her fingers off of me, and resigned myself to the fact that all this was really happening.

“Of course, I would only be inclined to court Mina if she were willing,” Albert said. “I would hate to pressure anyone into anything.”

“She's not feeling pressured!” Mom said. “Are you, Mina? Only a little bitty date or two?”

“Pressured,” I said, my voice barely audible. The room was starting to spin. “I—I just wasn't really expecting anything like—”

“It's not a problem,” Albert said, looking sadly down into his lap. “I only found you so beautiful that all common sense left me.”