Angry Jonny

  Celia nodded, stepped outside.

  “So the cops aren’t talking?” Al asked.

  “Getting a little redundant there,” Ethan said. “Larry went downtown, couldn’t get a thing.”

  “No other breaks, no other witnesses?”

  It took Jessica a few beats to realize that Al’s curiosity was based solely on her safety. Hers and his, already worried just when the pipeline would spring a leak.

  “There’s a press conference at two,” Ethan said.

  “Last time it took them two days.”

  “They’re looking to slip this one past the rotation... Case you haven’t heard, Michael Jackson’s still dead.”

  “So this press conference is just going to be a treasure trove of useless information.”

  “Unless there’s something Jessica would like to add…” Ethan smirked, shifting in his seat. “How about it, girlfriend? Anything you know that we don’t?”

  Jessica sighed. “When I was thirteen I was sent to the principal’s office for peeing in the boys’ room.”

  “Nothing at all?” Ethan prodded, stretching out across his desk. “I’d be curious to hear what you have to say, now that you’re back here pretending to be a journalist.”

  “Wouldn’t want to step on your toes. You’ve been pretending a whole lot longer than I have.”

  “Stop.” Al ordered. “Both of you.”

  “It’s a fair question,” Ethan shot back and slid off the desk. Hands on his hips, thumbs hooked into his black, Kenneth Cole belt. “Davenport’s the one that got you tossed. Now he’s gone.” He turned to his superior. “I saw the lead detectives in your office this morning, Al. I know they were here for our help in publicizing some kind of hotline for scared witnesses, but what if that wasn’t it?”

  “Go on.”

  “We all know that both victims were related to Jessica… What if the cops know it too?”

  “Then I’m sure you’ll read about it in our paper,” Al said curtly.

  “That’s bullshit, Al.”

  “It’s also my call, isn’t it?”

  “It’s a wrong call.”

  From the doorway came the sound of someone clearing their throat.

  “Come on in, new guy,” Ethan said, motioning with his hand. “Got lost on the way to the supply closet, did you?”

  “Stopped to help with a printer jam,” Malik stammered, handing Ethan his pens.

  Jessica had to laugh.

  Maybe it was her ex-boyfriend’s meek deference to Ethan Prince. The way Mr. Metro had already bent the new intern to his beck and call. Perhaps it was the cagey look in Malik’s eyes; overwhelmed and lost in a suit his parents had clearly bought him. But ultimately, it was the knowledge that the only reason he was there was because Jessica shouldn’t have been.

  “Uh, Jessica…” Al gestured uncertainly towards Malik. “This is our new intern –”

  “Hey, Jessica,” Malik cut him off with an awkward smile. “Surprise.”

  “Hey, Malik. Surprise yourself.”

  “And it appears you two know each other,” Al concluded.

  “Girlfriend,” Malik said.

  “Ex-girlfriend,” Jessica clarified.

  “No offence, sir,” Ethan casually shook the box of pens in his boss’s direction. “But there’s days I wish we ran a gossip column.”

  “Anything’s got to be better than this,” Al muttered. With his next breath, all switched from farce to focus. “OK… Press conference is in an hour and a half. I want a staff meeting in half an hour. The King of Pop may be dead, but I don’t want his ghost on my front page.”

  “Sir?” Jessica raised her hand. “Anything I can do?”

  “We can do,” Malik amended.

  “Anything we can do?”

  “You’re interns,” Al said, shooting them both a twisted smile. “You can go see who needs lunch.”

  Considering the day she was having, Jessica was just fine with that.

  ***

  Nearly the entire office got together to watch the press conference.

  As expected, the facts were few.

  The fire department had found Davenport’s body. Paramedics and police notified at once. No sign of forced entry. Time being, it was assumed that Angry Jonny had entered through, of all things, a doggie flap in the kitchen door. Nobody commented on the absence of a dog, or Davenport’s wife and kids. Davenport had been duct taped to a chair in his living room. Eyes cut out, tongue severed.

  Only this time, the writing on the wall was not courtesy of a spray can. For the moment, the authorities were claiming some sort of charcoal instrument. The words Angry Jonny, once again accompanied by the stamp of an unidentified symbol.

  The network’s camera had zoomed in for a good enough look, fuzzy image slowly coming into focus.

  The significance of the two symbols remained a mystery.

  Clarence Davenport was currently under observation at Pantheon Hospital. Guard on the door. Condition listed as critical. He had lost a good deal more blood than Jason Castle. His anemic condition had led to a stroke, from which he had yet to awaken. No comment on the connection between Davenport and Castle. No mention whether the federal investigation would extend to this latest victim.

  The current line was that there were still no suspects in either case.

  And again, unlike the rest of the staff, Jessica was just fine with that.

  Shortly after four, the interns were dismissed for the day.

  Jessica was three steps out the front door, when she remembered that Dinah had no idea where she was. Moreover, Jessica had no idea where her aunt was. For all she knew, the police had her down at the station. Sitting in the same room. Or worse yet, sitting in that other room...

  Jessica made the call.

  Got nothing.

  She dialed the Prescott Dining Room.

  The hostess answered the phone. “Prescott at the Pantheon.”

  “Amanda, it’s Jessica. Is Dinah still there?”

  “Um, yeah. She’s kind of slammed right now, but if you want –”

  “Nah, it’s cool…” Jessica breathed a sigh of relief. “Just let her know I called.”

  Jessica slipped the phone back in her bag, fresh beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead.

  She’d almost forgotten why she’d left in such a hurry, when Malik emerged from the building, jingling his keys. “Need a ride?”

  “I’m fine. Dinah’s coming by to pick me up any second.”

  “That right?” Malik scanned the parking lot. “Any second now.”

  “Look, I don’t want to get into this –”

  “Look my ass,” Malik snapped. “I tried to tell you about this yesterday. Just yesterday. I was there, at the Prescott. I was ready to get into it, and you blew me off. Tell me that ain’t true.”

  “OK. Yeah. That’s on me. But don’t act all blameless. You knew what Davenport did, you knew the circumstances. Now I find you got a little something out of it, and I’m supposed to be good with this?”

  “Got a little –” Malik balled his fists. “You are frustrating, baby, you know that?”

  “Hey, Malik –”

  “I really was going to try and set things right. But to say I had some master plan...” Malik shook his head. “I ain’t like you, Jessica. I’m not resourceful. For sure, not as capable. But could you, please, for one moment, let all that go? We’re stuck with each other for the summer. And I wish it was me instead of Angry Jonny that had brought you back here.” The keys began to rattle in his hand. “I wish this hadn’t been about Clarence…”

  “Shit…” Jessica sighed. “Yeah, sorry. I forgot. You all were close to him, weren’t you?”

  “I never liked the man… But he’d been in my house. Many times. And that means something.”

  “We shouldn’t talk about him in past tense.”

  “Take away a man’s eyes, snap his tongue clean from his mouth. What you’re left with is a different man?
??” Malik glanced down at Jessica. “That’s the point, don’t you think? That’s why he doesn’t kill them, he just… changes them. Forever.”

  “I think that’s exactly the point... And I guess it can’t hurt to put the personal on hold for a bit. I’ve got to hit the manager’s office before she leaves for the day, if she hasn’t already… And I gratefully accept your offer.”

  “Yeah?”

  “No doubt.”

  “So…” Malik gave a sheepish grin. “Does this mean…?”

  “I said on hold. Don’t go jumping to conclusions. You got no place to land, and I will walk home if I have to.”

  “I thought you needed to see the manager.”

  “At Camelot Apartments. I assume you remember how to get there.”

  The pair of them cautiously ambled over to Malik’s Subaru Outback.

  “What’s going on with Camelot?” Malik asked.

  “Much as I hate to resort to clichés, I’ll explain on the way.”

  It was time to see what else the day had in store for her.

  Chapter 15: Beginning of the End.

  “They’re called Daedalus Incorporated…” Angela hoisted a large box onto her desk. She took a quick moment to rummage through her belongings. Strands of midnight getting in her way. “They’re based in Atlanta. The new management team should be on site by Monday…”

  Jessica and Malik stood by her desk.

  It was like the numb aftermath of a family emergency. Getting the news, racing for the hospital, locating the incapacitated relative. Nothing left to do but nod with dumb regularity while the doctor explained the prognosis.

  “Daedalus gave me an offer to stay on, but I didn’t get the details ‘till yesterday,” Angela continued, as she shut the front door. She slipped her key in, locked up for the last time. “Frankly, it was an insult. Reduced pay, more hours. Health plan’s a joke. Non-negotiable.” Angela floated back to the desk, disoriented. “You know, I still have no idea what these guys even look like. Just sitting in an office hundreds of miles away, making decisions, making decisions…”

  She began to lift the box, thick arms revealing a surprising amount of muscle.

  It came crashing back down. “Wait, my plants…”

  Jessica nudged her ex. “Malik, help the lady out.”

  Malik hopped to, reached over the desk and lifted the cardboard box.

  Jessica scooped the large fern from off a filing cabinet. “Go on and get your baby fichus, Angela. We’ll walk you out.”

  The three of them made their way down the hallway, in through the kitchen. It dawned on Jessica that soon she might have to make the same farewell tour of her own apartment. Every last possession slowly trickling out the way it had come in.

  The back door led out to the courtyard, a large expanse of lawn boxed off on either side by buildings H and J. A group of grad students were seated on the ground, soaking in the sun. Smiles and bathing suits, doing what they could to convince themselves they had made it to the beach that summer. A family of four sat at one of the wooden picnic tables. The nearby barbeque pit was aflame, sending out smoke signals in sweet, mesquite plumes. One by one, they all turned to stare as Angela crossed the sunny divide. Merriment on hold. Conversation dying out, perplexed faces trying to make sense of the somber procession.

  “So this is the future site of a swimming pool,” Angela said. “The offices, whole ground floor is going to be stripped and turned into a lifestyle center.”

  “What the hell is a lifestyle center?”

  “Fancy word for a gym,” Malik said.

  “Why the lifestyle center?” Jessica fumed. “Why the pool? YMCA’s right around the corner.”

  “That’s not the last of it...” The lawn bled out into a small hill sloping towards the unpaved parking lot. “They’re going to completely remodel the apartments. Washers and dryers, full-sized ceramic top stove. Granite counter tops. Going to refinish the floors, add carpet in the bedrooms –”

  “Carpet?”

  “Yeah.” Angela’s voice cracked as she opened up the back of her minivan. “Word is, they’re also putting in florescent lights. That, along with the new infrastructure that’s going to be involved with the washer and dryers – pipelines, heating vents – means that they’re probably going to bring the ceilings down a good foot or two.”

  “What’s going to happen to us?”

  “They’re going to be doing one building at a time.” Angela placed her drooping fichus into the car, then reached for the fern. “I don’t know in what order. They’ll have to relocate the tenants of whatever building they work on. Don’t ask me where, but they need to pay for all of it; moving you out, and back in. And until a resident’s lease is up, they have to keep charging the same rent as they did before.”

  Jessica wiped the sweat from her neck. “Why would we need any of this?”

  “Any of what?”

  “The renovations.”

  “Who cares what you need, Jessica?” Angela told her, smiling sadly, cheeks red from the heat. “Look, they say they don’t want to lose the residents they’ve got. Truth is, and this is not a rumor: the marketing will focus primarily on Pantheon undergrads. Off-campus housing has been trending all across the country. That’s who they’re trying to attract. And when they do, in around a year or so, they’re probably going to try and flip this place. Resell it to turn a profit. Once your lease is up, the rent is going to skyrocket. Don’t know by how much, though I can promise you, starting well before then, your electric bill is going to feel the hurt.”

  “I’m guessing no more free heat in the winter, right?”

  “Putting in central air, honey.” Angela slammed the back door shut. She took a look around the parking lot, past the surrounding chain-link fence, beyond which ran a backstreet dotted with sagging houses. She even gave the dumpsters one last look, as though hoping there were some last piece of business that could keep her there.

  Jessica kept going over it in her head. Same as she did with any situation, looking for a way out.

  Something to exploit, some loophole nobody else had figured out.

  “Well, I guess that’s it,” Angela said. Opened her arms.

  Jessica moved in. Felt the weight of Angela’s embrace, eyes closed against the scent of her perfume. Listening to the birds, the creak of towering trees as the wind bent branches to its will.

  They parted, and Angela’s eyes were red.

  Jessica didn’t want to ask, but she wouldn’t have another chance. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “The construction’s going to start on Monday,” Angela said, sniffing. “They’ll probably distribute letters to all of you. Don’t take it at face value, neither, girl. You just make sure you know what’s what. These Daedalus assholes are sneaky. Do not allow yourself to be misused or misled.”

  “Never have before.”

  “That’s my girl…” Angela wiped her eyes. Cleared her throat. “Well… take care of yourself, Jess.”

  “You too.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I think I got another job lined up.”

  “Damn it.” Jessica smacked her head. “I’m a jerk for not asking.”

  “Far from it, honey…”

  Angela left it at that. Shuffled over to the driver’s side, slid in and closed the door.

  Revved the engine and backed up.

  Jessica welcomed Malik’s touch as he took hold of her arm and gently moved her out of the way. The brake turning furious before putting it into first. Wheels spinning, a small chunk of dirt hitting Jessica below her left eye.

  “Shit.”

  Countless windows stared down at her, festooned with Christmas lights, homemade curtains, ornaments, and pet plants, all of which would eventually have to be taken down.

  Out in the courtyard, the grill continued to sizzle, while clueless grad students dismissed what they had witnessed as something that they could worry about tomorrow.

  Funny thing, thoug
h.

  String enough tomorrows together, and eventually, all people were left with was today.

  Collect enough of those, and soon everyone would be left wondering whatever happened to yesterday.

  Chapter 16: Ill Communication.

  It was seven in the evening. Jessica sat at the living room table, eyes inches away from her computer screen. The overbearing humidity muddled its way through the windows. Stuck to her clothes, coated her skin with a layer of grimy sweat.

  The day had gone cloudy, room gone pale blue. Shadows blending in a charcoal landscape.

  Malik handed her a tonic on ice.

  She absently pressed it against her neck, eyes stuck to the beige background of Daedalus’s website.

  “All right, you bastards,” she mumbled, running the cursor over various links. ABOUT US. OUR MISSION. OUR COMMUNITY. OUR STAFF. “I swear there’s a sucker born every minute, Malik.”

  “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, taking the chair across from her. He raised a bottle of beer to his lips, took a long, welcomed sip. “What’s the word?”

  “Creating your home away from home,” Jessica read from the online manifesto. “And then there’s a picture of college students smiling in front of what looks like a condominium.”

  “Black or white?”

  “All colors of the rainbow.”

  “See, you got nothing to worry about.”

  Jessica smiled weakly. “You’re full of shit, you know that?

  “What else does it say?”

  “CEO’s one Jerome Keanen… They got a picture of him with a hardhat and everything.”

  “Right.”

  “Must be where he stores his caviar.” Jessica took a sip of her tonic. Even minus the gin, she felt her lids growing heavy. “I can’t keep reading this shit. Fuck, I am exhausted.”

  “You look exhausted.”

  “I am…”

  “Been a while since I was last here. I like what you’ve done with the place.”

  “I’ve done nothing with the place.”

  “Well, keep right on doing it.” He took another sip of beer. Adjusted his glasses, scratched his head through two atmospheres of hair. Gave himself enough room, then plunged in: “What happened to us, Jessica?”

  “You got to be kidding,” Jessica laughed. She cut and pasted the Daedalus URL onto an email. Typed in Dinah’s address and hit send. “You cheated on me.”