A Twisted Ladder (42 page)

“Hey, take it easy,” Julie protested, cupping her hands over her golden hair, which was now slapping at her lipstick. “Maybe we should put the top up.”

“Too late,” Anita shouted over the wind with a smile. “We’re halfway there.”

Julie pouted as exit signs whizzed by. “I don’t see why we have to go way out to the boondocks for this!”

Anita laughed but continued on, sunglasses shading the bright afternoon sun. She knew why. Same reason she’d taken the self-defense class, and the handgun training. She zoomed the Mustang right up to the front door of the gun shop.

“Hey, is this a real parking place?” Julie asked, but Anita was already entering the shop.

Julie followed a minute later, and made straight for a mirror hanging on a wall near the register. Anita lingered back by the crossbows.

From beyond, she heard someone drone through a crackling radio in a language she couldn’t identify. Wasn’t Spanish or anything normal like that. Large black rifles hung on the walls behind the counter, and handguns lay in neat rows in display cases. Anita’s nose twitched at the odor of stale cigarette smoke. She pressed her finger to the pointed tip of an arrow on display. It looked like a miniature spacecraft, black with shiny steel blades. A
SSASSIN
, the display read.

Julie was making noises of disgust, and she took out a comb and hacked at her hair. “We are definitely putting the top up on the way back! Looks like I stuck my finger in a plug outlet.”

“May I help you?”

Anita jumped at the sound of Zenon’s voice. Julie looked startled when she recognized him, then her eyes narrowed. Anita trained her focus on the display case, pretending to be absorbed, though she continued to watch in her peripheral vision.

He was stepping out from the back room and wiping his hands with a rag. A dark blotch sagged under his left eye. He wore a simple gray t-shirt tucked into his jeans. It made him look tough.

“Why hello there,” Julie said in her silkiest bedroom voice. “No, honey, I don’t need any help.”

In a mechanical motion, Julie pivoted on her foot to look at Anita, and Anita focused intently on the crossbows, heat burning her cheeks. Julie pivoted back again to face Zenon.

“It’s my friend over there who
needs help
.”

Anita turned around and lifted her brows as if she were just now noticing Zenon’s presence.

“Well hello again!” She dazzled him with her brightest smile.

Zenon nodded back with a blank expression.

“What happened to your eye?”

He didn’t answer; only stared at her until she dropped her gaze.

“Well,” Anita said. “Uh, I came here because I wanna buy a gun, instead of having to use a loaner at the shooting range.”

Zenon folded his arms over his chest. “You’ll have to complete your training before you can get a handgun permit. The state also requires a
100 processing fee.”

“Do I really gotta do all that? I’m going on a road trip next week. Gonna stay with Julie’s family in Houston, then I’ll head out to see my aunt in Florida. I’ll be driving down all alone.”

“You can’t cross state lines with a handgun anyway,” Zenon said, gesturing to a display rack. “Try a stun gun, or pepper spray.”

Anita regarded the blister packs. Some looked like pens or flashlights.

“I heard pepper spray doesn’t work on people who are on drugs.”

“Products that use CN gas are not as effective on violent attackers under the influence of narcotics or alcohol. These here are pepper spray. They use a substance extracted from chili peppers. When sprayed directly into the eyes, it’ll subdue an attacker for up to forty-five minutes.”

“Well!” Julie turned to Anita. “I now understand your sudden fascination with self-defense. You have found the absolute living authority on the subject!”

Anita ignored Julie’s comment and leaned over the glass where the stun guns lay.

She tapped her fingernail on the glass. “What’s this one?”

“That’s a Taser,” Zenon replied, unlocking the cabinet. He placed it on the counter.

“Is that like a stun gun?”

“They’re similar. A stun gun shoots out pure electricity, but you have to be in direct bodily contact with the assailant. When you shoot a Taser, you can be up to fifteen feet away. These hooks clamp into the assailant’s skin, and the wires pulse electricity. The pulses interfere with communication between the brain and the muscular system, causing the assailant to lose control.”

Anita pondered her slow progress at the shooting range. “What if I shoot and miss?”

“As a back-up, the unit will also work at close range, just like a stun gun.”

“I’ll take it!”

Julie chimed in, “Hey, maybe I could try it out at the university bookstore. See who tries to cut in front of me in line. Zzzzzzt!”

Anita and Zenon stared at her.

“That was a
joke
,” Julie said.

Zenon closed the case and disappeared into the stockroom.

Julie whispered, “Now I get why we had to sail out to the far reaches of Baton Rouge to go to this particular gun shop.”

Anita grinned. “Isn’t he cute?”

“Well, yeah, but don’t you think he’s a little . . . I don’t know,” she waved her hand. “He’s a little stern. Not exactly a comedian.”

“I know. But it kind of turns me on.”

Julie shook her head. “Anita, honey, look at you. You’ve got every jock, nerd, and scholar we know wanting to ask you out, and you get all moon-eyed over Bubba in there. I just don’t get it.”

Anita pinched her.

“It stinks like old cigarettes in here,” Julie said. “I’m gonna wait out in the car. And I’m putting the top up.”

Anita watched her go. She fidgeted, waiting for Zenon. The radio was still buzzing in that foreign language, and it didn’t look like any radio she’d ever seen before. Zenon reappeared from the stock room.

“What’s that language they’re speaking on that radio?” Anita asked.

“Hungarian.”

“Oh my God! You’re Hungarian?”

“No.”

“You speak Hungarian?”

“No.” He switched off the radio.

She cleared her throat to hide her nerves. She’d intended to ask him out but he was so brusque.

Instead: “You and Madeleine seemed awfully friendly the other night.”

He said nothing.

“Are you dating?”

“No.”

“Good, because . . .”

He said, “That’ll be
169.95.”

She dug in her purse. “I’ll put it on my Visa.” She handed it to him.

As Zenon ran the card, Anita leaned over the counter and stuck her pinky into the crevice under the cash register.

“Who’s the angel?” she asked, pulling the necklace out and dangling it on her little finger. The afternoon sun glinted on the gold handwritten name. She cocked her head, realizing the chain was a name necklace, and her heart sank.

“Is it your girlfriend?”

Zenon took the necklace from her and tossed it into a drawer without a word. The credit card machine churned out the sales slip.

“Guess it just ain’t my business,” she mumbled, and signed the receipt.

“WHAT THE HELL WERE
you thinking?” Josh said. “You kept the
necklace
? The fucking
necklace?
”

“I thought you knew!” Zenon replied. “I’ve kept it right there the whole time.” He turned and muttered, “Thought you knew everything.”

“Jesus Christ almighty. It’s got her name right on it! I’m serious, man, what were you thinking?”

“How the hell I know that was her name? I thought it meant angel as in angels and devils. Shit.”

“What are you, stupid? You want to get caught?”

Zenon reddened. “Get
caught
? You said there was no way I
would
get caught. You said you’d take care of everything.”

“Yeah, if you stick to the goddamn rules!” Josh pressed his fist to his forehead. “I mean it man, you better cut this shit out, right here and now. Don’t be keeping no more goddamn souvenirs.”

Zenon breathed out through his teeth and leaned on the display case. “All right. Didn’t think it would hurt nothin. I’ll get rid of the damn necklace.” He jammed out a cigarette, and didn’t mention the other memento he’d kept.

“Damn right you’ll get rid of it. And now you’re gonna have to get rid of her, too.” Josh flung his arm at the door where Anita had left moments ago. “What a goddamn mess.”

Zenon stared at him. “That girl has no way of knowing who that necklace belonged to.”

“Oh no? It’s been all over the news: Angel Frey missing. She could put two and two together. Do you really want to take that chance?”

“Jesus Christ, man, you said you had my back in all of this. You said nothing could happen to me.”

Josh leaned forward. “I told you, you had to stick to the goddamn rules. You’re keeping souvenirs. I told you to chill.”

“You and your bullshit. You know what I think? I don’t think these marks are any threat to me at all. I think they’re a threat to
you
. You and that old woman.”

“Dammit Zenon! You keep right on with this shit. Just go ahead. You’re gonna find yourself in a prison cell.”

The word
prison
gave Zenon pause, and his anger slipped a notch.

“I know. All right.” He shook his head. “Look, I’m groping in the dark here. You tell me I’m s’posed to go get this mark but not that one. Makes me some kind of vigilante but I don’t know why. What the hell am I doing this for, anyway?”

Josh snorted. “I’ve told you a thousand damn times.”

“Tell me again.”

Josh ran his fingers through his hair and leaned against the counter. “They’re a different race of souls. We gotta get rid of them.”

“Why?” Zenon crossed his arms. “What’s so bad about them?”

“They’re gonna take over, that’s why. They’ll
own
people like you. That what you want? Be somebody’s pet?”

Zenon shifted, looking away, and brought a cigarette to his lips.

“It’s so simple. But you gotta make it complicated. And now,” Josh leaned his face in so that it was inches away from Zenon’s. He pointed at the door again. “Now you’re going to have to get rid of her, too.”

Zenon blew out a long, slow stream of smoke.