Primary Valor, Jack Mars [black female authors .txt] 📗

the threshold of thehouse, into the foyer, up the master stairs to the second floor, and down awide, cool hallway. Their feet echoed on polished stone. They passed through adoorway and here was what might have once been a ballroom—a vast,high-ceilinged room, with large windows, white curtains billowing in thebreeze.

Darwin could almost hear thestrains of music and laughter from those long ago times—the good old days.

But these were the good old days. Notthen, now.

They passed into his apartment, acompletely private living space within the much larger house. The apartment wasbig. Sumptuous, open concept, with two-story ceilings. Stone tiles everywhere,ceiling fans gently turning.

There was a living room with alarge white sectional couch. A modern art piece hung behind it, the canvas fourfeet wide and ten feet long, the painting a crazy horizontal blood-red scrape,like a person scratching at the walls of their prison cell with the last oftheir fingernails. He loved that painting. Elaine had given it to him. It was aliving artist, someone she was collecting. He didn’t remember the man’s name.

To the left, sliding glass doorsopened to a wide terrace. The doors were open. With the doors open, Darwincould listen to the call of the gulls, and smell the sea breeze. The deck facedsouthwest across the cliffs and over the Caribbean Sea. When you stood outthere, the ocean stretched from left to right, a 180-degree panoramic view. Thelast of the sun was fading now, the light playing on the stonework in theapartment.

“I love this place,” he said.

“I brought a couple of girls up,”Elaine said. “If you want.”

Darwin thought about that for asecond. Then he nodded and smiled. “That will be fine. It was a long trip, andI could use a little help relaxing.”

“They’re in your room, waiting.”

He gave Elaine a mischievoussideways glance.

“Is the new one here?”

Elaine smiled, but shook her head.“She’s not ready.”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

Darwin paced into the bedroom. Itwas very large, with a gigantic, double-king-sized bed. Cool stone floors andwindows faced the ocean. Peach-colored curtains billowed in the light breeze. WideFrench doors gave out onto a private balcony. Night was coming in, and he wasready for it.

The girls were on the bed, wearingblue robes. They were nice, a blonde and a brunette. They looked up as he camein. Their eyes met his. Their eyes were so big, so beautiful. They were soyoung, and shy. He knew these girls. He knew their numbers. He knew theirskills. And he knew, more than anything, that they belonged to him.

Again, he reveled in the things heowned. It was magic.

It was truly paradise.

CHAPTER NINE

8:45 p.m. Eastern Standard Time

A Safe House

Annieville, South Carolina

 

 

“Are those really alligators outthere?” Ed Newsam said.

“What do you think?” Louis Claresaid. His hands were zip-tied behind his back, his ankles zip-tied to the legsof the metal folding chair he was sitting on. His head was out of the bag, buthis eyes were blindfolded.

“I think they are,” Luke said. “Andthey sure look hungry.”

Ed and Luke had just come in fromthe porch with a small flashlight. The light was a very bright LED, and Ed hadbeen sweeping it across the stream that ran past the back of the tiny shack,out to the wide marshlands that opened to a large bay. Luke didn’t like thethought of ending up in that water. There were at least a dozen gators outthere. The light flashed across their faces in the deep dark of a SouthCarolina backwoods night, illuminating their eyes.

“I wonder what we could feed them,”Luke said.

“I don’t know,” Ed said. “I guesswe’ll think of something.”

Clare shook his head. He seemedcalm for a helpless man in the custody of two strangers musing out loud aboutfeeding him to alligators. He was smoking a cigarette, maybe that’s what calmedhim. Luke had given him one to get him talking. Like all true long-termsmokers, Clare didn’t need his hands to smoke. The cigarette just dangled fromhis mouth.

“Give it a rest,” he said. “I’veheard all these jokes before. You think I haven’t? Feed me to alligators? Youguys are cops. You’re not going to do anything to me.”

“What makes you think we’re cops?”Ed said.

“Simple,” Clare said. “If youweren’t cops, I’d probably already be dead.”

“Have you been doing thingssomeone might want to kill you for?” Luke said.

Clare shrugged. “You tell me.”

“Well, you’ve done things in thepast that someone might want to kill you for,” Ed said. “I’m sure some of yourold victims might like to kill you, or their families.”

“But you’re talking about thepast,” Clare said. “That’s the key phrase. In the past. I was young,misguided. I did my time. I paid my debt to society. I’m rehabilitated. If Iwasn’t, they wouldn’t have let me out. I’m better now.”

Ed seemed perfectly calm, too. “You’llbe better when I say you’re better.”

“Yeah?” Clare said. “And who areyou supposed to be?”

“Nobody.”

Clare nodded. “That’s right. You’renobody.”

Luke was standing in a corner ofthe empty room. The place was just an old tumbledown shack with three rooms, atthe end of a dirt road. The kitchen had been left to deteriorate on its own. Therewas a microwave oven, and a stove with one electric burner that still worked. Therewas a small refrigerator that came to about waist height. It wasn’t plugged in,and there was black mildew growing inside of it. The sink worked, but when Luketurned on the tap, it had spit and sputtered for about thirty seconds. Therewas an aluminum pot and some old instant coffee bags in a sealed Mason jar. Youcould make stale black coffee, if you wanted.

Luke had no idea where Don hadgotten this place from. FBI, CIA, DOD. Just a place where you could disappearpeople for a little while. It seemed like no one had been here in years.

“You’re a chump,” Clare said. “That’sall you are.”

It occurred to Luke now that Clarehad never actually seen Ed. Luke had already bagged Clare before he brought himout of the motel. They switched from the hood to the blindfold while standingbehind him.

He watched as Ed approached Clare.Ed still didn’t seem the slightest bit angry. He seemed almost lost in thought,wandering around inside his own head. He put one