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Seven Wakings Page 20

As we make our way to the limo Kate asks, “So… what’s next?”

  “I guess I have a party to attend. And you may need to help me get the kids out of the basement… considering we’re the only two left.”

  I feel like my soul broke in two. Cal was the love of my life, but I truly thought Joe was the love of my after-life. As Kate said: I feel nothing and everything at the same time.

  Chapter Thirteen - They All Fall Down

  As we arrive, Jesus gets out and crosses behind the car. I make sure Kate has my cell phone number. “Stay with Jesus until you hear from me. We have to be sure that no one sees you— especially Chief Lewis.”

  Kate agrees and gives me a quick hug. “Good luck, Mom. I love you.”

  Although the sentiment is touching, I wonder if that’s the last time I’ll hear my daughter say it. I touch her cheek. “…more than you could ever possibly know, Darlin’.”

  Jesus opens my door. As I step out he asks, “Any special instructions about your daughter?”

  I furrow my brow. “How do you know she’s my daughter?” He’s definitely I.A.

  He shuts the door. “I’m sorry, Sir, I just assumed with the way you act toward her…”

  I guy-smack his shoulder. “No need to apologize; she is my daughter. And I expect you to care for her the way you’d care for your own.”

  He shakes my hand. “Absolutely, Sir.”

  “Oh… and I’ll need her help later. But until then, no one sees her and don’t let her out of your sight.” I start to walk away, but remember to ask: “Do you have my phone number?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Please call me right away, so I know how to contact you if necessary.”

  He nods and begins to dial.

  My phone rings, but I silence it— thinking it’s Jesus, and head for the house. Before I can reach the porch, Vanessa opens the front door and rushes toward me.

  She kisses me on the mouth, too long. Besides the obvious revulsion of knowing she’s my daughter, I think of Joe. He’s been with her.

  “Happy Birthday, Daddy.” Vanessa gives me a hug. She’s in a chiffon dress, fur wrap and matching vintage hat. Wearing red lipstick, her look is straight out of the fifties.

  Kim follows her example in clothing and action.

  Chief Lewis approaches cautiously. “Sir, it’s an honor to share this prestigious evening with you.” He shakes my hand.

  I want to spit in his face. “Delighted you’re here. It’s good to know that my daughter has found an equal.” Someone equally repugnant.

  Vanessa’s jaw clenches. “We should go in. Dinner will be ruined if we wait much longer.” She holds the crook of my arm, while the Chief and Kim trail behind us.

  Once inside, I see guests mingling in a sunken living room with all white finishes. A black piano sits near French doors that lead to a large balcony overlooking the water. A long black bar, on the left side of the room, caters to thick-waisted men who clutch highball glasses filled with varying shades of amber liquid. The few women who pepper the room wear floor-length gowns in gemstone colors, and hold stemmed glasses adorned with floating berries or pierced olives.

  Vanessa removes a glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray and tings it several times with the stem of her cigarette holder. The pianist lowers the level of his play as the murmur of the crowd settles.

  “Our guest of honor has finally arrived.” Vanessa holds out her glass. “Please join me in a toast for our chair head of NAMGLA.”

  Everyone stands and faces me, drinks in hand.

  The acronym takes me a second to place. Then it hits me… North American Man/Girl Love Association. I remember looking into them before. They’re a national group of men who openly desire young girls.

  A waiter carries a single cocktail on a silver tray toward me. “Henry IV Dudognon, as requested, Sir.” He bows slightly as I receive it.

  I slam it. Which is apparently not the thing to do. I find myself coughing something that tastes like whiskey, wine, and flan. I’d normally enjoy it if I weren’t reeling from the last few hours of information.

  I look to our left and see a hall, wonder if it leads to the elevators where the kids are.

  “It is with great pleasure that we celebrate my father’s sixtieth birthday. As his closest friends and family, I know you also wish my father continued health, wealth, and happiness.” She raises her glass. “To Richard Gilchrist, may you live another sixty.”

  The room toasts to me before Vanessa makes another announcement.

  “Please join us in the dining hall. We’ll begin with salads and champagne.” She gestures to an opening on the right side of the room.

  As people begin ambling toward the dining hall, Vanessa turns to me. “We’ve got a special surprise for you later. I know you’ll be pleased.” She moves in close; grazing her breasts against me. “Anything you need from Kim or me before then?” She bites her lip and looks down at my crotch. “You seem a little stressed.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Are you offering me a blow job?”

  She touches her hand to her chest and looks around. “You needn’t be so brazen about it. But, if that’s what you need…”

  “No… that’s definitely not what I need. Especially from you… or Kim.” I glance around, trying to remember the floor plan from the architectural drawings. “I just want to get to the ‘gifts’.”

  Vanessa smiles. “Of course.”

  In the dining hall there are several round tables, formally set: white linen dressings, cherub ice sculptures, gold votive candles, and crystal flatware. A small bar is set up at the far end of the room, next to a stage with gossamer curtains.

  I count just over thirty people, some of whom I’m sure are related to Gilchrist. They look like Richard— tall, strapping, creepy.

  We wade through countless handshakes and “happy birthdays” until we arrive at a table front and center of the elevated stage. Vanessa leads me to my seat and sits next to me. The four other seats are filled by: Kim, Chief Lewis, an older woman and her much younger companion. A grandson, I’m guessing. An empty chair sits between Kim and me— must have been reserved for Mike.

  As I introduce myself to them, the woman says, “How ridiculous…introducing yourself to your own mother. And you met Collin at our wedding last week.” Her husband looks to be in his mid-twenties. The taste for much younger mates is a family tradition.

  As the tables fill in, waiters pour glasses of Louis Roederer Cristal Champagne and serve platters of escargot, trays of fine cheese, and plates of Beluga caviar. A violinist plays soft music in the background. With each cocktail the conversation increases in volume.

  I need to come up with a plan, but something tells me to wait. Now is not the right time to make a move.

  Out comes roast duck with a cherry port wine reduction, saffron rice, pumpkin puree, and mustard salad. Poking at my food with a butter knife, I can’t take a bite. Although this will be my last supper, eating seems vile.

  I can’t wait any longer for a plan to reveal itself. I have to see Mac. “Will you excuse me? I need to use the men’s room.” Standing, I turn toward the living room.

  Vanessa takes my hand. “Why don’t you use the one over there?” She points to a hall at the right of the stage.

  “I need a bit more privacy.” I pat my abdomen. “Stomach issues.”

  “Oh…” She nearly giggles. “Don’t be long.”

  I have to stall. “For a man my age, these things take time.”

  I pass through the living room and follow the hall beyond several rooms. Near the end is an elevator. Taking a deep breath, I press the button and hope for the best.

  The door dings and opens at nearly the same time. Once inside, I see a monitoring camera and rip it off its cord. No one needs to know my every move. My heart pounds as I descend. I’m excited to see Mac, but don’t know who’s watching the kids, or the mental state everyone’s in.

  As the door slides open, I look around and see no one, just empty
cots. Muffled sounds emanate from the photography room. I straighten my suit and head back. The kids are sitting in a circle, hand-cuffed together. Carlos and Paul stand immediately. Neither one seems to know what to say. The kids look equally intimidated.

  Smiling, I approach with my hands behind my back. “Good evening everyone.”

  The men respond in kind.

  “Vanessa would be disappointed if I spoiled the surprise, so let’s keep this little visit to ourselves, okay?”

  They all nod in lobotomized agreement.

  “Paul, I’d like to have a chat with one of the kids.” I point to Mac. “Please take off his handcuffs and bring him to me in the other room.”

  His nostrils flare. “You’re just going to talk to him, right?”

  I realize he’s concerned for Mac’s safety. “Yes. You’re welcome to stay in a corner of the room to oversee us, but our conversation needs to be private.”

  When he removes Mac’s handcuffs, I direct my attention to Carlos. “If you so much as look at these girls the wrong way, I’ll castrate you with my bare hands. Got it?”

  As we make our way to the cot room, Paul stands by the red chairs in the hallway between Carlos and me. He’s keeping an eye on both of us.

  Mac turns to me as we approach the cot where he was previously held. He looks up and smiles almost indiscernibly. Before I can analyze his look, he grabs my arm and kicks me in the crotch with the force of a pack mule.

  I crumble to my knees and fight to catch my breath. It feels like my testicles were yanked out through my navel and tied in a bow. I don’t know whether to throw up or curl into a ball.

  Paul makes a noise like he’s stifling a laugh, then says, “Do you still want your privacy?”

  I wave him off and say to Mac, “Honey… it’s mom.” Gasp, gasp. “Looks like those karate lessons paid off.” I grab the side of a cot; try to catch my breath.

  He takes a step back. “Bullshit.”

  I crawl onto the nearest cot and curl into the fetal position. “I have absolutely no idea who you are right now— with the cussing and kicking— but… I love you more than you could ever possibly know.”

  His face changes, like he’s smelling rotting meat. “Gross… you’re the pervert?”

  Air starts to return to my lungs, but the nausea remains. “Trust me, it freaks me out too.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Listen I only have a minute, but I’ll try to fill you in.” I re-cap: Mike’s been shot, is missing, and we don’t know if he’s contacted I.A. Archer and Gilchrist are somehow connected to each other. Archer’s also missing and we don’t know if he’s working with or against us. Joe has been in on this the whole time and is probably still in the trunk of his own car. Dinner is going on upstairs with about thirty guests. And Kate is waiting outside with a limo driver named Jesus.

  He sits down on a cot across from me. “I hate to state the obvious here, but things aren’t looking too good.”

  I hear something. It’s the elevator shaft. I look to Paul. “Guard the bathroom!”

  “What?”

  “Just do it!”

  He goes up the half flight of stairs and stands in front of the door where Mike’s I.A. badge is.

  I grab Mac’s hand and rush with him behind the supply table. Lucky we have to crouch because I couldn’t straighten up if I tried.

  The elevator dings, doors slide open, and I hear the clack of heals on concrete.

  Vanessa.

  In the reflection of the glass cabinet at the foot of the room, I see her walking toward the photography room. I motion for Mac to get under the nearest cot, so she won’t see our reflection on the way back. Rolling under the cot where I was as Anna, I realize how long and short ago that was.

  Vanessa stops short in the opening of the room where the girls are. “Where’s the boy?”

  Paul rushes down the stairs. “He just up here in the… bathroom, Ma’am. Don’t worry, I’ve got my eye on him.” He excuses himself and goes back up to guard the empty lavatory.

  Carlos doesn’t make a sound. Makes me think he’s aware of his own stupidity.

  “I just wanted to be sure everything is set for the presentation.” She inspects the girls. “Please bring them up the back stairwell in exactly ten minutes, and position them at the side of the stage. I’ll take it from there. Oh… and leave the boy down here. I think I’ll keep him for myself.”

  Carlos manages an: “Okay,” before she clacks back to our room.

  She pauses before pushing the button and I wonder if she can sense us. God only knows she’s familiar with her father’s scent.

  We lay stock still until she turns away, pushes the button, and ascends without inspecting the room.

  Mac and I ease back out and decide I should probably go.

  “I’m not sure of a plan yet, but just know I’ll get you all out of here somehow… even if I have to do it as Gilchrist.” I give him a hug, and notice Paul watching me. “For now, just go with the flow and keep the girls calm.”

  We walk back over to Paul.

  “Don’t leave Carlos alone with any of these kids. Understand?”

  He agrees and leads Mac back to the photography room, while I make my way back upstairs…slowly, as I still can’t stand upright completely.

  It’s been too long since I last heard from Lynette. Checking my phone, I see that I’ve missed several calls and a text from her saying: “Call me!” I didn’t realize I turned off all the signals; just meant to put it on vibrate.

  At the edge of the living room, I dial her number. “What’s…”

  “Joe’s gone. He took the box.” She’s practically hyperventilating. “I don’t know what happened. I drove straight to my brother’s house, and when we checked the trunk, he…”

  The front door opens. A late guest?

  It’s Archer.

  “Oh my God. Archer just walked in the front door… in plain clothes.”

  “What about Joe?”

  “Forget him for now.” I remember that she has a weapon “Just get over here, and bring the gun.”

  I hang up and walk toward Archer. Without knowing his connection to me, I choose my words carefully. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to wish my father a Happy Birthday.”

  The color fades from my face. “What are you talking about?”

  “I told you we needed to talk. Do you think buying me a house is going to make me disappear?”

  “I… uh…”

  “And I know what’s going on here tonight.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Take a good look at me.” He moves in so close I wonder if he going to kiss me. “Do I look like I’m half black and half pedophile?”

  I’m blindsided by the question. “Uh…?”

  “What’s your name doing on my birth certificate? And who’s Charlotte Seybold?”

  Things start tumbling into place. Archer said he was adopted, Charlotte must be his mother— they have the same smile— that’s why he was looking into the Gilchrist’s for other reasons.

  “She works for me… as a housekeeper.”

  He takes a step back, seems to be surprised by my honesty. “How long has she ‘worked’ for you?”

  I want him to know the truth. “Since she was thirteen.”

  Oddly, it looks like he’s turning to leave, until he spins around and cold-cocks me in the jaw. I hear something pop and wonder if he broke my face. Stumbling backward I try to find my footing, and grab my jaw.

  “Mother fucker!” He shakes out his hand.

  Odd and shockingly appropriate word choice. “Listen… I know you’re not going to believe this, but I’m trying to fix…”

  “What’s going on here?” Vanessa walks toward us.

  I look to Archer. “He was just leaving.” I grab the back of his arm, lead him to the door.

  He clenches his jaw. “I’m not going anywhere until...”

  I look back at Vanessa. “Give us just a
minute?”

  She looks Archer up and down. “How old are you?”

  Odd question. We both turn around.

  Vanessa looks like she swallowed a mouse. “Let me guess.” She growls. “You were born on June 18th, 1992. That makes you… twenty-one?” She motions a waiter over, takes a glass of champagne from his tray, then orders him out of the room.

  Archer yanks his arm out of my hand. “What else do you know about me?”

  “That you’re lucky to be alive. Your mother traded her freedom for your life.” She takes a sip. “And if you play your cards right, we have a lot more than a house to offer you.”

  Archer laughs. “You think I want any of this?”

  I remember that my power trumps Vanessa. “I’m the one in control of the money. If anyone is going to make an offer, it’s me.” I clench my jaw. “Now… I believe I asked you to give us a minute.”

  She crosses her arms and shrugs her shoulders

  I guess I need to be a little clearer. “You want back into the will? Then get the fuck out of here!”

  Her spine straightens. “Well I…” She turns and clacks back to the dining hall.

  Turning to Archer I say, “Listen, I’ve had a change of heart where the girls are concerned. If you come in, and join my table, I’ll tell you exactly when and how to get them out of here.”

  “You’re so full of shit.”

  I look at him. “If you really want to help those girls, there’s no better place for you to be than next to me. I’ll even let you keep the gun.” I felt it when I grabbed his arm.

  “Is this some kind of trap? Get me in there and then do what… kill me?”

  “With what… a salad fork?” I see doubt in his eyes. “What if I told you that I know Mike Dupree is I.A. and Paul is a police informant, and I haven’t told anyone else about them?”

  “Why not?”

  “I told you. I realize the error of my ways and I want to set things straight.” I put my hand on his back. “You’re a police officer. It’s time to protect and serve.”

  “Wait.” He stands his ground. “I’ll believe you’ve changed if you tell me who killed Emma James.”