Dance For The Devil (16 page)

It was a masculine room. Leather furniture, walls of books, dark colors. None of the modern art that graced Marvelworks. This room always reminded Jason of an old boy’s club... even his mother stayed away.

“Yes, Son? What is it?”

Jason cleared his throat nervously. This was difficult for him. Although he loved and respected his father, he also feared him. His father was a very powerful man. Although Gil had never laid a hand to his son, Jason had witnesses Gil’s wrath towards others. Gil Vandercamp was not a man to antagonize.

“It’s... my friends. Do you know what happened to them?”

Gil sighed. “Jason. We’ve been over this before. You’re becoming tedious.”

“Please tell me. I’m sixteen, old enough to know the truth.”

Gil studied him thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose you are.” He tapped his pen against the exquisite mahogany desk. “I’
m sorry, Son, but your friends are dead.”

Jason inhaled sharply. “All of them?”

“The girl... what’s her name? Elise? She’s dead, of course, you already know that. That was sloppy, by the way. You shouldn’t have been mixed up in that. I don’t like it when the police become involved.”

“It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

“Yes, I know, things got out of hand. You had no business being at that club. You should have told me where you were going.”

Jason bristled but remained quiet. Gil liked to know his every movement and usually Jason complied. But that night... Halloween night... he wanted to do something different. Impress his friends. What a fiasco.

“The boy, Alex, was taken care of. Car crash, officially, except his body won’t be found. He was quite fun while he lasted – I can see why you liked him.”

Jason forced himself to remain still. “Where did it happen?”

Gil continued to tap his pen. The repetitive sound was irritatingly loud. “Usual place. The body was disposed of in Cadboro Bay – they’ll think he was driving too fast, hit a puddle and failed to navigate the corner. With any luck the car will get caught in the riptide and will be dragged down. If they ever find the body, it’ll be picked clean. See how it’s done, Son? No loose ends.”

“Dad. Those were my friends.”

“And you were getting too attached. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, Son, you can’t get too close to people. It’s not safe. You put yourself at risk, you put me at risk, and you put the Temple at risk.”

“But they were going to join. They were going to become members.”

Gil sighed. “You don’t get it, do you Jason? We’re different from other people, not like regular mortals. We’re not ordinary, we’re
special
. You can’t get attached. Those kids were nobodies, nothings. You know that. They never would have fit in. Stick with the kids from the Temple, alright?”

Jason fought back tears. He must not show his father his emotions; that would make everything worse. He couldn’t prevent the slight crack in his voice, though, and when he saw Gil’s eyebrow rise, he hated himself. “What about Amy? She wasn’t a nobody. You said so yourself, you said she was special. You told me to make friends with her.”

The tapping ceased. “You’re right. Amy Montclaire is special.”

Jason didn’t miss the inflection. “Amy’s alive?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see her?”

“You think that’s wise?”

Jason prepared his answer carefully. “Guess not, it might upset her to see me.”

His father watched him carefully. “On the contrary, it might help her feel she has an ally. She’s a pretty little thing, don’t you think?”

Jason shrugged. “I’ve seen better.”

“Surly though. Considering her parentage, I suppose it can’t be helped.”

“Where is she? Can I see her?”

As soon as he asked, Jason realized his mistake. Gil had trapped him... again. Jason had shown too much interest. Gil’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “You do like her, don’t you?”

Jason shrugged again. “Not particularly.”

“Liar. I’ve known you all your life, you little snot. You can’t fool an old fool. Yes, you can see your girlfriend. You can see her all you want. In fact, I encourage it. Amy Montclaire is going to be my new breeder.”

Jason couldn’t help himself. “No! Dad, no!”

“She’s a prime specimen. She’ll make lovely babies, perfect for the Temple.”

“Dad! She’s only fifteen!”

“Old enough to bleed, old enough to breed. And Son, I have good news for you. You get to be the inseminator.”

“Dad!”

“No, don’t thank me. Thank Seth. It’s His direction. You can see your sweetheart tomorrow. I’ll even clean her up a little for you. She’ll need it, she’s lying in her own filth. I tell you, Son, some people have no class, no dignity. You think they could shit in the corner, but no, they do it in their own bed. Worse than dogs. Even a dog won’t shit in his own bed.” Gil looked at his son again, measuring him. “Now scram, I’ve work to do. And remember, don’t start getting all weirded out on me, like last time. Remember that? Do that and your little friend will pay. Like the last one did. Remember her? Remember Lucy?” He smiled pleasantly as Jason nodded. “Good. Tell your mom I’ll be ready for dinner in an hour, okay? I think we’re having prime rib tonight. Can hardly wait. Oh, and Son? Who loves you most?”

“You do, Dad.”

“And?”

“And I love you too. You’re the best father in the whole world.”

Gil smiled as Jason closed the door behind him. His son was a good kid, he’d do what was expected of him. He might not like it, but he’d do it. Just like Gil had done for his own father.

Things were falling into place nicely. Jake Montclaire was ruined, according to plan. By now he would have discovered his house insurance null and vo
id. The man would be penniless and powerless. After word got out about his treachery at Marvelworks, no one would hire him. And the word
was
out. By now, every computer game manufacturer in the country knew about Jake Montclaire. Vids-4-Kids might have hired him, of course, until they found the defect in Pluto’s Playground. The game was useless. An internal bug would slowly begin to eat away the program memory. In another week or so, Vids-4-Kids would be conducting a massive recall. Not good for their image. And they would have Jake Montclaire to thank for it. It was safe to say that Jake Montclaire was unemployable, at least in the computer and video game industry. If Gil could get the industrial espionage charge to stick, then Jake might be looking at prison and he’d been unemployable anywhere. Well, except for a hamburger joint, earning minimum wage. It’s what the bastard deserved.

And Amy. By now, Jake would be rippi
ng his hair out with worry for his daughter. Beautiful. At first Gil thought about providing a body, but this was so much better. The uncertainty. The lack of closure. For the rest of his life Jake Montclaire would wonder about the fate of his daughter. Never know that Amy was safely locked away, paying for the sins of her father. Poetic justice.

Now it was the son’s turn. Skeeter. What a stupid name for a kid. Gil knew the boy’s real name was Michael. Michael was a decent name. Why burden the poor kid with a handle like Skeeter? No matter. When Gil was through with the boy, Skeeter wouldn’t be able to be called anything.

He closed his eyes and tried to visualize what Jake was doing right now. Was he crying? Was he ranting and raving? Or was he being comforted by that stupid bitch he’d taken up with?

What was the deal with her, anyway? For the past year, Montclaire hadn’t so much as looked at another woman. People were starting to wonder if he was gay. Then, suddenly, that dumb twat jumps out of the woodwork, and presto, he’s living with her.
Living with her.
Now, what’s that about?

Gil chuckled suddenly. Well, I suppose he has nowhere else to go.

There was something about her.... Something intriguing. When he tried to probe her mind it was like hitting a wall. Even Jake seemed less assailable. It could be attributed to Gil’s own fatigue. Masterminding and revenge, no matter how enjoyable, was all very exhausting. Ah, well, when he had a quiet moment, he would look into the problem of Montclaire’s slut. If she proved a valid threat, then he’d eliminate her.

**

“Explain to me again what you see in him.”

Cari stopped unpacking the new shipment of books and looked over her shoulder at Ramona. “Jake Montclaire is nice. I like him.”

“In other words, you’ve got the hots for him.”

“Oh
, nicely put. Very classy.” Cari was annoyed.

“Hey, I call a spade a spade. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but you’re wrong. I don’t deny he’s attractive, but it’s more than that. He’s nice and he needs help. I’m doing a good deed so stop crucifying me.”

“Okay, play at being good Samaritan but don’t invite the guy to
live
with you. Geez, Cari, you don’t even
know
him. He’s a total stranger.”

“True, but he has no place else to go. He hasn’t lived here very long, hasn’t made many friends. He’s a loner, like me.”

“What if he’s a pervert? Or an axe murderer?”

Cari grimaced. “Hardly, he has children.”

“So? You think perverts don’t have kids?”

“He’s not a pervert, Romi, or an axe murderer. He’s a perfectly nice gentleman who’s in deep trouble.”

“So why does it fall on you to save him? Who are you, Mother-fucking-Theresa?”

“I want to help him. Actually, I
need
to help him. I don’t know why, but I feel compelled.”

Ramona walked over to stand beside Cari. At close to six feet, she towered over Cari. “I’m telling you: don’t get involved. It could be dangerous.” Cari smiled and Ramona turned away in disgust. “You’re not listening, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Then at least let me help you.”

“Thanks, Romi, I knew I could count on you.”

Ramon
a rolled her eyes. “What do you want me to do?”

Cari laid out the plan.

**

“Amy?”

She blinked. The sudden influx of light hurt and she squeezed her eyes together. It was the first time she’d been exposed to light in several days, and Gil waited patiently for her vision to adjust.

“Amy? Are you alright?”

“Mr. Vandercamp?” Her voice was a tiny squeak. “Mr. Vandercamp? Is that you?”

“Yes, Amy, I’ve come for you.”

She began to cry. “Oh, thank God!” She stood up on wobbly legs, assisted by Gil. When she would fling herself into his arms, he held back, his nostrils wrinkling in disgust. The girl truly was filthy. When she spoke again, her voice was stronger. “I want to go home!” she wailed.

Well, he hadn’t broken her. The girl still had spirit. “Shhh,” he said, eyeing her matted hair. “Shhh. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Where’s my Daddy? Can I see my Daddy?”

“No, dear, that’s impossible.”

She stopped wailing and held very still. “Wh-what? Does he know I’m here?”

“Of course he does.” Gil’s voice was tender, soothing. “He sent you here.”

“What!”

“You’re a bad girl, Amy, your dad can’t handle you. He doesn’t want you, so he sent you here.”

“That’s not true.”

“Face the facts, Amy, neither of your parents want you. First your mother left you, now your father. But I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

Her eyes were wide now, full of shock. “You’re lying.”

“Sweetheart, it’s true. See these papers? There’s your dad’s signature, relinquishing guardianship. The official seal makes it legal and binding, dear.”

Amy turned away. “I don’t believe you.”

“Why would I lie, Amy? I’ve come to help you, to take care of you.”

“I want my dad. I want to go home.”

“Your home is gone, Amy, burnt down, nothing l
eft but smouldering ashes. Look, I’ve brought a newspaper. See? It’s on the front page. See the date? Two days ago. There’s your dad right there, and your brother. Go ahead, read it.”

She took the paper, reading Carmen had been trapped inside. Amy looked at Gil with swollen eyes
, and he nodded. “Yes, it’s true. Read the rest.” Wordlessly, she carried on. The last paragraph stated that Jake Montclaire was moving back to Toronto. Immediately. With his son. No mention of her.

“It’s a mistake,” she sobbed stubbornly. “Daddy
loves me.”

“Maybe, but he can’t handle you anymore. You’re disobedient and nasty, and you skip school and lie. What comes next? Drugs? Stealing? Running away from home and living on the streets? Your Dad didn’t want to see that, and he knew he couldn’t control you. So he found someone who could.”

“My dad wouldn’t send me to this horrible place.”

Gil pursed his lips. “Actually, he had no choice. I fired him for stealing ideas and selling them, then your house burnt down, and he has no money. He’s completely broke. I think he did love you, once, before you became so difficult and horrible. How can anyone love you the way you’ve been acting? And, by getting rid of you, he can concentrate on Skeeter, the good child. Still,” he added, his voice soft, “I don’t think he realized it was this horrible. These people put up a good front. They look respectable, like a boarding school. They call it The Elizabethan House for Wayward Girls, but it’s a front for child slavery. Know what’s happening to you? Yo
u’re being sent to Africa, a white slave, to service men. Know what I mean when I say ‘
service men’
? You’ll be raped, Amy, over and over. Men will pay for it. They love young, blond-haired girls in Africa. You’ll fetch a pretty penny.”