chapter THIRTEEN
Renaud
I didn't know how I was supposed to react. Mike was certain that Jenny just wanted attention. When her whore pic didn't get the response she wanted she upped the ante, he said. It seemed to me that she was always searching for attention and not always in a good way. I couldn’t remember the specifics, but I did remember the feeling of being lost. The feeling of loneliness that came every time she didn't get her own way. The problem was, I couldn't remember if it was part of a memory or a sensation brought on by all the energy that comes with escaping to the real world.
"If you don't want to go up I understand," Mike said as he tried to call her again. His words might say the opposite, but his actions said differently He kept glancing at his phone like it was a living, breathing thing and that Jenny would answer him at any minute. "We’ll be there in about ten minutes. It's close to the river and the casino, but I don't think Wilson will be happy that we came."
"Why does Wilson hate me so much?" I asked. For so long I had hated the idea of him, but I knew why. He took something from me. Well, I thought he did. Lately though, it seemed to me that Jenny was never really mine. I had touched her body, loved her, and even immortalized her, but her heart had a price tag. I wondered just how much love cost. If rumor was correct, my book was very successful but it wasn't near enough to buy what I truly craved back then. Love.
Mike just laughed. "Well when you got your first royalty check, which was a damn huge one, I must say you played with the idea of hiring a hitman. Lucky for you, wanting one and finding one aren't the same thing." Still chuckling, he continued. "Then there was ruining his career."
"How did I ruin his career?" I blurted out.
"You don't remember?" Mike asked, looking shocked. "Well, let me see. He was working at a financial brokerage and was considered to have a great future. Then you Mr.Barthélémy, became an instant millionaire. That's when the asshole part of your personality came out."
"Strange how I never thought of myself as an asshole, but then again, I guess most people don't and that's what makes them assholes to start with. Exactly what did I do to earn this title?"
"Not just the title, but the whole damn crown my friend. You truly don't remember?" He had this childlike look in his eyes like he had a secret and if he didn't get it out soon he'd explode.
"No I can't, but seems like you’re dying to tell me."
Almost giggling, he turned the corner and I could see the casino standing out above the rest of the buildings, looking majestic. If I still believed in heaven I might have actually thought it lead all the way up there.
"Yes, I guess telling you how big an asshole you are does bring me some joy."
"Too much if you ask me. Being a bible thumper and all, I expected more from you."
He drove his fist into my arm with enough force to cause a tingling sensation.
"Screw you, asshole. I have known you longer than anybody else and I know the good and bad parts of you. I am probably the only man in the world that can see past the bad parts." It was shocking to realize that he knew my bad parts. The irony was more than I could handle. We were total opposites. He was a man of God and I was a creature bent and shaped in Hell. I wonder if he had any idea that I wasn't just touched by evil, but that I had bathed in it and tasted it. "Do you want to know how you earned the crown or not?"
“Of course. After all, you know me best.”
“Ok, now as I said Mr. Wilson Bailey was a pretty successful investment advisor. The go-to guy if you wanted to see your money grow like a fat guy at a chocolate factory. That’s not being insulting because I am a fat guy and let’s face it, guys like me love chocolate.” It occurred to me that Mike was the kind of person that always had to justify everything, like speaking his own thoughts was a sin. People can be like that. They constantly need to justify what they say or do simply because somewhere deep inside they don’t feel worthy. It made me wonder if I was like that. Was I such a pain in the ass that I justified everything even if there wasn’t cause to? “Anyway, suddenly you become a somebody. I mean,you were getting fan mail left, right, and center. That was before email was big, so people actually took the time to mail pictures. You even had a whore folder.”
“A what?”
Laughing he added, “If I remember correctly, it was a whole bunch of women with less than high morals sending you nudes and stating that they wanted to help inspire you.”
“Oh and I assume you stole a few?”
Chuckling, he responded, “The whole damn box. I took no joy from them, but I was saving souls when I took them. Saving whoever might have found them from lustful sin.”
Dumbass, was all I could think. “And I suppose you had to examine every one of them…”
“Of course, it’s a priest thing. You wouldn’t understand the sacrifices I make for those under my care.” Smiling he continued, “Anyway, here you are with too much cash and you invest a whole buttload of it with his firm. Then they have some kind of fancy party and of course you are invited, being a rich prick and all.” I was about to respond when he smirked, “Now here is where the asshole part comes in.” You and Wilson have this love-hate thing going on. You both love Jenny and hate each other."
I couldn't remember a lot of details, but I remembered hating Wilson. All those nights spent with the image of his bloodied face beneath my fist. It was never the image of a drawn out, even fight just me beating Wilson like he had beaten my heart.
"Yeah, I guess we had a lover’s triangle."
Slapping his hand against the steering wheel, Mike said "No, I would say it was more like a three-way dance-wrestling match. You and Wilson comparing sizes, never realizing that Jenny was hung bigger then both of you." Only Mike could make a violent sport sound so gay. "Now Wilson had no idea that you were such a big shot for his company. If he did, he might now have talked down to you in his stuffy ‘I am so much better then you’ manner.” He burst out laughing, “Oh Hell, who am I trying to fool? He would have talked down to you regardless. Anyway, in the midst of the party you asked this high-up vice president sort how much money you have and he smiles and says three million dollars. Everybody looked so impressed, your momma would have been so proud of you. Then you decided to really earn the crown.”
“A big one?”
“Giant. It had to fit around your big head, so yes it was big. So you ask this VP if they treat everybody that invests that much and plans to invest for with them this way. He snorts ‘No Mr. Barthélémy, we treat every investor with great respect, not just those who invest millions. ’Well you get up and tell the dude that you can’t invest money with a company that talks down to you. This was on a Friday night. The following Monday Wilson’s desk was cleared out and all his possessions were in a cardboard box.” Smiling he muttered, “See? A giant crown.”
"And where did my crown go?"
"I think your cousin Irene gave it to William. If ever there was an asshole it's him. He is such an ass that when he talks he smells like an outhouse."
Finally, we arrived at one of those fancy high-rise apartment buildings. It had an extravagant foundation and wassurrounded by exotic-looking plants in the front, with giant windows scattered everywhere on the street level.
"Fancy," I remarked as I looked up at the Roman-themed building.
"You bet your ass it's fancy. Your brother made damn sure that Wilson made too much money. So much in fact, that he couldn’t quit. It just wouldn't make economic sense."
I already knew my baby brother brought him into the company. It wasn't exactly a secret, but his motives still confused me. Even Murlin had no idea and I questioned her like I was part of the KGB.
"Why did he hire my enemy"
"I don't know. What I can tell you is that he told me he was doing it for you."
"For me?"
"Yep, for you. Maybe it was some kind of karma thing or maybe even a ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’ thing. Whatever his reason,
he said that you would understand." There's no damn way I understood. That ass went and bought my girlfriend and my brother gives him a job. It's like I helped pay him for sleeping with my girlfriend.
We were headed towards the double-wide glass doors with a dull green finish when the unexpected happened. My true face reflecting back at me in the glass. Not just for my eyes, but for the world to see if they took the time to really look. A century of punishment and hellfire had taken its toll on me and my demons had left their mark. There was some kind of powerful magic inside these walls if it could wipe away Murlin's magic just by me standing outside the doors. Luckily, Mike was too preoccupied with texting to look up into the face of evil. If he did, Jenny wouldn't be his only concern. I just hoped that the magic didn't peel away my mask while we were inside.
"For Christ’s sake Jenny, pick up," Mike muttered as he shook his phone.
"Relax Mike," was all I got out as a dark blue Lincoln came roaring out of the garage. I immediately jumped back, feeling the air being displaced around it as the car whipped by. Two giant men glared at me through the glass as they drove away, and there was a loud screech as the car came to a halt. All eyes were on me as if they were measuring me up. The rear lights flashed and the car slowly started backing up towards me. Mike was mumbling something, but I couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, only that by his tone of voice it wasn’t good. I stepped out and watched the car coming right for me. I wasn’t brave or an idiot with some kind of hero syndrome, I was quite the opposite. One by one I scanned their faces, taking inventory of any scars, blemishes, and any other distinguishing features I could see. I thought that maybe they were ghosts from my past, but I couldn’t recognize them. If they were from my past, they were just another missing piece of the puzzle. The car stopped and I could see them pointing and discussing something, but they always came back to me. It looked like they were staring at something and then pointing at me. Could it be fans or was it something else? I was not sure. Suddenly, the car tore out of the parking lot almost slamming into a little Ford as it vanished down Riverside Drive towards the Ambassador Bridge.
Mike looked lost as he stood there with his hands on his hips and trembled. It wasn't very hot considering the time of year, but little streams of sweat rolled off his forehead.
"Friends of yours?"
"No, I thought they were yours," he mumbled. He wasn't lying, he was just scared. Mike wasn't exactly a great storyteller, let alone a good liar.
"Maybe fans," I responded, still trying to figure out what the goons wanted with me. I don't think that Mike noticed, but the car passed by us a second time at a slower, more controlled pace.
"If your fans look like that, it explains why you only wrote one book. I personally like the old ones better. I don't want to imagine those guys in bikinis."
"Thanks, dumbass."
Mike looked confused, "What?"
"Now I have that image in my head and some other images you don't want in your head."
Mike broke into a crackling laugh, "Be thankful it's not me in a Speedo."
We both broke out laughing and made our way into the building. There was an awkward silence that followed. I am not sure if it was just the situation or if there something else that just lingered beneath the surface. The building was one of those high class places with square tiles that went up about a third the way up the way and had mirrors going up the rest. The ceiling had similar mirrored tile going all the way down the wide hall way and plastic plants scattered randomly throughout. It looked pretty high class with the exception of the ugly brown and beige carpet that seemed to go on forever.
“You know, this better not be one of Jenny’s games,” he mumbled as he pressed the elevator button. For such a fancy place it certainly had one of the slowest elevators ever. Finally, there was a chime and the doors opened. We entered the small elevator and it jerked slightly as it began to rise. When the doors finally opened I exited while Mike lingered as if searching the hallways for some unknown evil. He pointed to the door at the end of the hallway.
“That’s their place,” he said as he began marching towards it.
Mike knocked on the door, making a hollow tapping sound. The door popped open an inch or so and he peaked through, everything looking normal.
“Strange, they always keep the door locked.”
“Maybe she expected us,” I responded as I tried to peer through the crack. Quite the place, I thought. Shiny hardwood floors and small round marble tables on either side of the hallway. Further in I could see giant glass doors that lead to a balcony. It looked like Jenny had gotten everything she wanted and possibly more.
We slowly made our way into the penthouse like thieves sneaking in. Of course, Mike was too clumsy to ever make a good crook. He had already made quite the racket when he kicked over the bucket used to hold umbrellas that was behind the door. He grabbed one and held it like a sword as he slithered along the hallway pressing against the wall like he was expecting something evil to jump out from every corner.
"What are you expecting, Jack the Ripper?” I asked.
"No, but something tells me that there is something nasty happening here. "He was serious about it, but I still had to struggle not to laugh. The way he said nasty reminded me of a cheap porno. "I just think there's a problem here."
Mike walked into the living room then stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at me white-faced and said quietly, "I think we should call the cops."
Scanning the room, I couldn't see anything out of place. No broken vases, the artwork hanging on the walls was straight and it looked like nothing had ever happened. There wasn't even dirty foot prints on the floor.
"What’s wrong?" I asked. It felt empty, but beyond that I didn’t see anything out of place. Then I saw it. A little stream of blood flowing from the corner of the doorway. Pointing to it I asked, “Is that blood?”
“Yes,” Mike said in an empty tone. “It’s Wilson.” He was pointing into a room that was just out of my view. Mike was pointing and staring at me with this blank look on his face, “If he is bloodied on the floor, where is Jenny?” He was scanning the place intently, but never moved from where he stood. “I don’t see her anywhere.”
I walked past him, glancing into the mid-sized office with an oak desk right in the middle. I expected to find furniture to be broken and thrown all over the place, with Wilson’s lifeless body lying on the ground.If Wilson wanted to answer he didn't or couldn't. His face was covered in blotches of dried blood and his jaw was pushed to the left. His eyes were dull and hazed over already. I had been through a lot worse so I couldn't force myself to pity him. I know I probably should but I couldn't find it. I didn't hate him either. I just felt nothing. I could see death in his eyes. It was coming for him any minute now and then Wilson would be forgotten.
Mike knelt down and reached in through the doorway and snapped, "Who took her? Tell me, Wilson who took her?" It looked like he was going to kill him if he didn't answer fast enough. "What did you do to get her in trouble, Wilson? Tell me or God help me I will finish what they started.” I took great joy out of seeing him covered in blood. Mike looked like he was going to kill him if he didn't answer.
I didn't care either way if he died or not as Wilson wasn’t a friend, but my limited memories of Mike were all good. Too good to let him do anything that he might regret later. I grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him back. Mike was a lot stronger then he looked and I struggled to pull his hands from around Wilson’s neck.
“Let go of him! Beating him further won’t help Jenny. Leave him.”
We went from room to room searching for Jenny. It didn’t take very long as their house had big empty rooms and there weren’t very many of them. It was a prime example of what my mother called “house poor.” They had bought a big fancy house, yet they couldn’t afford furniture. A few nice pieces of quality furniture stood in the empty rooms, but if one took the time to examine them they would see that they weren’t new and prov
ed that looking luxurious did not always mean that they were. We had checked the last room and Jenny was still nowhere to be found.
Mike looked at me with sadness in his eyes.
“She’s gone.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what I was supposed to say. I wasn’t sorry that she went missing. She was a shadow from the past and to me this was like stepping into the sunlight. Like a lot of nightmares in life, they only existed in the darkness.
“I know.” I said.
Mike ran to the office door and called out, “Wilson, where is she? Where is Jenny?” There was no response which seemed to infuriate Mike even more. Looking at me he cried, “Renaud, he’s going to die isn’t he?”
The smell of death was growing stronger. There was a unique smell that floated around a person when they died. To most it was the stench of fire and brimstone, yet to the dying and those of us who were already dead it smelt sweet. Not like a flower though. It was more like freshly-baked strawberry pie from my Aunt Mable's house when I was a child. I missed her pie throughout my time since her passing. It was strange how I couldn’t remember her face or her laugh, yet I never forgot the taste of her pie.
"Yes, he is dying."
"If he dies we will never know who took Jenny." Mike was truly concerned about her and her well-being. He looked almost lovesick as he stared at Wilson. Yelling, Mike kept trying to interrogate him.
“Where is she, you bastard?"
I thought that he was going to start pounding on him with his fists.
"Where is Jenny? Tell me or I will make sure you find your way to Hell." Mike was getting more and more agitated and it occurred to me that there was much more to it. Finally, he stepped away throwing his arms up in frustration.
Grabbing his phone as he walked away I could hear him say “I need an ambulance sent to...” His voice faded as he walked around the corner.
I stepped closer to Wilson and stared into his dull empty eyes, watching the life drain from him. I couldn’t see any reason to save him. He wasn’t a good man. Always sneaking around, desperate to either own, control or destroy everything around him. I wanted to let him die. Even Jenny’s life had little meaning to me, but Mike mattered. He was a good man and he cared. Mike cared a lot and part of me was certain that he loved her. That’s why he stayed when the rest of us left her. I knelt down and placed my hand on the side of his head. He felt warm to the touch and I could feel his life fading.
I laughed as I whispered, “Karma is a bitch, isn’t it Wilson? You will slowly die here today and Jenny will get what’s coming for her.” Wilson eyes begged me to save him, but he was pleading with the wrong man.
This image of Mike kept coming to mind, though. The genuine concern and heartbreak that filled his eyes as he questioned Wilson and couldn’t get a response. It was one of those times when I actually wished Mike had wronged me. It would be so much easier to enjoy this than to look past his pain. To ignore his heart’s agony over the loss.
I watched as the light inside him began to fade a little faster and reached out, pressing my hand against his forehead. I knew that I would regret this choice and its consequences before I even did it. Taking a deep breath, I gathered my thoughts and prepared to taste evil.
I whispered, “Contra te mihi morte dolores Potum ista communis deorum nector animam tuam in nocte onera portare me ex Deo natus est Et animam meam portoin sordibus te merui , in hac vita”
The spell started to take affect and the color started to return to his face. I could feel the burning fire of his sins being absorbed by my soul. It was the price that I would need to pay to see what his eyes had seen. Image after image slipped from his mind to mine as I tried to find the exact moment I was looking for. Memories don’t get filed in any kind of canonical order. They aren’t sorted by a date or by an event but are put together in order based on the importance as the person sees it at the time. Shifting through his memories I saw business deals, golfing trips, various moments with Jenny, and then a child’s face. That memory stuck out and the smile shined. I watched the child grow to become a woman and then a thought came to mind. She was one of my unfinished affairs here. He called her Jade. That was her name and I had to remember it. Jade. An image of Jenny screaming and being dragged by the office flashed into my mind. Wilson was reaching out,pleading “King, don’t take her! I can fix this.”
A voice behind me cried out, “Oh my god, you’re killing him!”