Dead Sure?: A Paranormal Mystery (28 page)

Tim desperately wanted to please this alluring woman, who from the moment they met had been more than nice to him. The desire to get back to his small daughter was growing in urgency everyday lately. “Fine, I trust you, I’ll do it. With a clever plan, I’m sure it’ll go down as smooth as you say.” His voice was resolute, there was no waver in his commitment.

Angela liked what she was hearing, Tim’s body language and tone convinced her she had him sold. There was much more to the whole scheme, but she couldn’t bring herself to share all of it with him. If Tim viewed her dark side, maybe he wouldn’t be so in love with her. His eyes held her in such high regard. “When Reggie arrives, take him aside and inform him that I said to take you for a drive. Once you’re in the car, explain the museum job and go case the place together. Not that you would flap your gums about it, but keep details about why you’re breaking into the museum to a minimum. The rest of the bunch is not to hear a word about this.”

Tim was excited and distracted by everything but not so much so as to be a fool. “And just why is the rest of the gang coming over to talk about a museum party? What reason would they have for thinking that’s a good idea?”

Caught off guard, Angela hesitated momentarily before beginning to speak. She wasn’t accustomed to dealing with a man that used his head for thinking. “I have another job for them. The museum party foray is just a big distraction.” Quickly, she tried to use redirection to keep Tim from prying further. “Tell me, what companies in today’s world make it big in the future? Perhaps some companies which make those new- fangled vending machines? You mentioned before that those are all over the place by the eighties.” This was a conversation she’d been meaning to have with him anyway. Hopefully, he’d bite.

“There are lots of companies from today that are still around in the future. Companies like Ford and Pillsbury are good examples. But you still haven’t answered my question about the party?” he pressed again.

“Let it go, and don’t question me any further on the subject,” her tone grew harsh and cold, her eyes staring at him hard.

“Fine, I’ll just worry about my part,” and with that Tim got up and stalked out of the room.

That’s the last way I wanted to make him feel. I hope he still loves me. He better not leave me. What if he finds whatever it is at the museum, and wishes himself back to the future without me? There’s nothing to stop him from just taking off like all of the other men in my life.
Angela’s brow creased with worry.

A single tear rolled down her smooth cheek as she stared out the window, trying to pull herself together before the big meeting. She told herself this time it would be different, he would come back for her, but the image of herself as a little girl in a lovely sea-foam dress kept working its way up to the front of her mind. There she stood, all alone, on the porch of the large family home. Her father was walking away, glancing back occasionally to smile at her and wave. That was the last time she ever saw him. She couldn’t let that happen to another little girl. She just had to help Tim’s little daughter and herself.

Finally, she managed to drag her thoughts back into the present and began to focus on the task at hand. The raid on Scarafini’s gin mill was going to be a winner no matter what the outcome. More than likely Nico Scarafini would have the majority of his men around the museum party wondering what the hell was up. Nico was never one that wanted to miss out on a new business opportunity. That’s when her outfit would sweep in, stealing as many barrels of gin as they could truck out of there, burning the rest. In addition, with any luck there would be a big pile of cash on hand. On the flip side, if Scarafini hadn’t moved his men out of the mill a big fight would erupt and if fate was smiling Charles would end up dead, eliminating a big problem in her life, no questions asked. A small smirk crossed her ruby lips. She sensed this time Charles couldn’t dodge his destiny. 

*    *    *

After the briefing everyone left the office except Charles. “Why are we going to hit Scarafini’s operation? That’s just asking for trouble.”

Angela scoffed, “Did you forget about what they did to Max already?” Quietly Angela continued under her breath, “or perhaps it wasn’t them.”

“Are you implying something? If you are, come right out and say it.” Charles managed to say it loudly trying to sound confident. He hoped the tone masked the trepidation he was feeling about this conversation.

“I’m not implying anything, but it sure seems to have struck a chord with you.” Angela could always tell when Charles was nervous; he would get a slight twitch on the corner of his right eye.

Charles stared back at her with his steel grey eyes. Part of him still loved her, at least his definition of love. The other part of him was in turmoil, seeing her only as an obstacle in the way of leading the gang and getting his due. The world had short-changed him long enough. Yet perhaps he could still have both. Turning without saying another word, he stalked angrily out of the room.

*    *    *

Out front of the house Charles caught up with Tony, who was lounging around on the porch. “Tony, where’s Reggie today? I didn’t see him at the meeting.” All of the previous anger was gone from his voice, which had returned to sounding smooth and casual.

“Don’t know, haven’t seen em around since early tis morning,” he answered back in his thick Italian accent.

Trying to sound more curious than suggestive, Charles followed up with, “Come to think of it, I didn’t see the new guy, Tim, there either.” Not that Tony was bright enough to catch on to conversational nuances.

“Nope didn’ see Tim at the meetin. Youse got a light?” he asked, pulling a cigarette out from where it was tucked behind his ear.

Charles whipped out his gold lighter and lit Tony’s smoke. Trying not to sound aggravated, he pressed further. “You mentioned seeing Reggie early this morning. Was Tim with him?”

“I haven’t seen Tim’s mug since yesterday.” Tony puffed the cigarette, staring out into the yard.

Damn her, what the hell is she up to, and if Tim and Reggie have been paired up for something why weren’t they together this morning? Unless that bastard Tim spent the night over here, I’m gonna find out and he better just pray my theory’s wrong. Maybe this whole gin mill thing is a big distraction, but from what?

Chapter 23
Mon. Evening August 6
th
, 2007

Monday Evening August 6
th
, 2007

Jack was still pissed when he left work later that afternoon. He got into his car, slamming the door uncharacteristically hard.

Why didn’t she call me? What’s going on with her? It sounds like she’s dating Sam too. That’ll teach me to try having just one girlfriend at a time. I never used to give a shit. Just add on a new one and move forward. I have a million missed phone calls from her on my cell. Well, now she knows how it feels to be ignored! And then there’s that damn journal, Liam was sure less than helpful. The geeky bastard looked happy about it too.

Jack started the car and began his drive home, still lost in thought. It was a warm evening and the smell of flowers hung heavily in the air. He had his windows down, but didn’t have on the typical loud rock music. Pulling up to a red light on a major street, he was still completely consumed and didn’t immediately notice the lady in the car next to him.

“Hey, is that thing fast or just pretty?” she yelled into his open window.

That got his attention all right. She was smokin hot! The scowl on her face turned to an immediate smile once she got Jack’s focus.

“What do you mean, is it fast? Of course it’s fast, probably quicker than that Cobra roadster you’re driving,” he answered back, much cockier than he felt. Half of him was hoping she didn’t want to race. His car had a monstrous engine; however, the Sublime Charger was also burdened with a heavy body. Her car, on the other hand, was a small two-seater convertible with almost no body weight and a giant Shelby 427 engine. He probably didn’t stand a chance, but maybe she didn’t know that. 

“You think so,” she said, squawking the tires and pulling away as the light turned green.

Following suit, Jack ended up sitting beside her at the next red light. There she was, grinning in his direction from the black convertible Shelby, her long silky-black hair blowing slightly in the early evening breeze. With white racing stripes and large side pipes, the car looked fast just sitting still; so did the woman, for that matter. The weather was balmy and she was wearing a white tank-top. It fit tightly to her angular body, doing little to hide her ample chest, and Jack was sure that was no accident.

She revved the engine on the black roadster. It roared with a savage challenge. One Jack had never been able to resist.

When the light changed, he stomped down on the accelerator. The tachometer jumped up into redline as the car charged off the line.

The black Shelby screamed to life as well. Leaving the start maybe a split second later, it quickly made up for any disparity. The two cars raced down the road neck ‘n’ neck. Jack, concentrating hard on beating this woman, spared only a quick glance over. He was shocked to find her beaming back at him. She didn’t even show the slightest hint of fear in taking her eyes off the road in front of her.

Braking hard and skidding to a stop at the next red light, Jack could see her still looking pleased with herself. It was the kind of expression you might expect on a cat that had just swallowed the proverbial canary.

“That was closer than I thought,” she said with a hint of fake surprise. “Let’s make it interesting; this one will be for dinner at Foshay Tower.”

Much to his surprise Jack replied, “Maybe another time.”
What am I saying? That woman is hot; yeah, and probably also a lot of trouble.

The smile faded slightly from her face. “Well all right then, one more time just for the hell of it!”

On that note, the light turned green and Jack took off. For a second time the lime green Charger and black Shelby jumped off the line, only this time the tires were squealing in unison. They came tearing down the street side by side, engines snarling, Jack thinking to himself that she was playing him. There’s no way he should be keeping up. It was a fun game, though, and he pressed on, hoping like hell they didn’t get caught. This would add up to one mother of a speeding ticket.

Three quarters of the way there, she jumped ahead by half a car length.
Here it comes, she’s going to blow my doors off now,
Jack speculated.

After edging just slightly further ahead, the black Shelby wavered as if it hit something slippery. It came skidding towards the left front of his car, the passenger door slamming hard against Jack’s left front fender. The angle of the collision sent the black convertible careening off to the left and the Charger skidding hard right.

Jack began a desperate series of counter-steering maneuvers to keep his heavy machine under control. First he was going right for a street post. Then a few turns later the vehicle was sailing left but too much. After more turning and tire squealing, he managed to get the Charger back under control, bringing it safely to a stop alongside the curb.

Realizing he was unharmed, Jack chastised himself for being stupid enough to race in the first place. He was about to get out of his car and determine what happened to the other driver when she came tearing up, yanking the emergency brake just in time to avoid slamming into the side of his car. The Cobra slid up, parked perfectly parallel next to him.

“Well, that didn’t go exactly as planned,” she said, a devious smirk on her face. “I guess this means we’ll have to exchange numbers. I’m sorry about what I did to your car, and I’ll have to take care of it.”

Somehow, Jack felt this might have been exactly how she planned it. “For banging up your classic car you sure don’t seem too upset,” Jack said inquisitively.

“What can I say? I love to race and this certainly isn’t the first time I’ve traded paint.” She pulled a small black notebook and pen out of her purse before getting out of her car. As she came walking around, Jack was even more impressed with her looks. She had a very lean and angular build with an exceptionally flat stomach. Her dark brown eyes were complemented by a long thin nose and a strong chin with a cute little dimple in the center.

Shelby quickly noticed him checking her out and looked him up and down in return with an approving manner. “So what is your name?” she asked, with a hint of an accent in her voice.

“Where are you from?  You have a very slight accent that’s very cool.”

“Thank you, I appreciate the compliment. Most people don’t pick up on it anymore. It has really faded a lot over the years. It’s Greek. My name is Shelby Turismo,” she said, extending her soft olive-toned hand.

Taking her hand gently, Jack shook it. For some reason he had expected it to be cool like her outward appearance, yet it was warm and inviting. “I’m Jack Weston.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jack. Now that the shock of the whole thing is over, I’m really feeling awful about banging up your car. How about I take us out for some pizza and cold beer?”

“Really, you seemed more like a fancy place kinda girl,” he said with surprise.

“No, I’m a versatile girl.” She ran her fingers through her long black hair. Her perfume, whatever it was, smelled fantastic.
I really gotta stop meeting women like this. What the hell?  It’s only beer and pizza. What’s the worst that can happen?
“Sure, do you have a particular place in mind?” Jack asked.

“I do, but it’s kind of hard to find. Why don’t we swing by your place, drop your car off and go together in mine?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jack wrote his address in Shelby’s notebook. “In case you get lost.” They both laughed, climbing back into their cars.

As Jack pulled away from the curb, he noticed that the fender was rubbing slightly on the wheel.
It’s probably a better idea than I thought to take her car.

*   *   *

Rene threw down her home phone in disgust. Why was Jack ignoring her calls? She knew damn well why. Because she should have called him instead of Sam to help her out at the hospital; but no, she had been too afraid of his reaction. And now look where it had gotten her, this reaction certainly couldn’t be any better than the one she feared.

She had called Liam to say she wouldn’t be able to work tonight, and he had casually mentioned Jack stopping by around lunch time. Of course that didn’t mean Jack knew for sure, but the silent treatment was making a pretty good case for it.

Liam had also mentioned that Jack had some journal with him. She had a pretty good idea which one.
I need that journal, maybe with it I can figure out what’s going on and put my life back on track. If I could just get Jack to call me back. No, better yet, I’ll drive over to his place and surprise him. I’ll explain the whole misunderstanding and try to keep any weird stuff from stirring up any additional trouble.

Smacking herself on the forehead,
Duh, Rene, how are you going to get there with no car? Perhaps Liam could close the store for a dinner break and I could bum a ride off him. Yeah, and if I just have him leave me there, Jack will be forced to talk with me, at least while he drives me home.

“Hello, Liam honey, I need a small favor.”

*    *    *

Several minutes later, Rene was patting herself on the back as she did her makeup.
I’ll cute myself up a little and this plan will work like a charm. Hopefully Jack and I can resume where we left off on the couch the other night. Yeah, and I’ll definitely save the journal discussion until later.

At that moment the phone rang. For some reason it sounded ominous to Rene, who scolded herself for such a negative thought. Then again, she usually had a sixth sense for seeing bad things coming. Putting down her eyeliner pencil, she walked into the kitchen. The caller id screen indicated the word Unknown.
Shit, I hate that, it usually means some pesky telemarketer. On second thought, it could be someone I want to speak with.

As Rene approached the telephone, a cold chill ran up her back. Picking up the headset, she could almost swear her nose was picking up the faint odor of cigar smoke. She wrinkled her face in strange curiosity, “Hello.”

At first there was no answer, and then she could hear the faint sound of jazz music playing on the other end.

“Hello, who is this?”
This whole situation is really starting to freak me out.
All of a sudden, she heard a disembodied voice but it wasn’t coming from the phone, it was coming from directly behind her.

“It’s time now,” was stated in a harsh whisper.

Turning, Rene was engulfed in a cloud of smoke, her thoughts becoming jumbled and unclear. Blackness was creeping deftly in on both sides of her vision, threatening to overtake her. She tried to resist, but the room began to weave and she felt as if she was falling, her vision finally fading out completely.

*    *    *

Jack pulled into the driveway of his apartment, cringing at the noise coming from the front end of his car. The grinding sound had only gotten louder on the drive home, and he was thoroughly expecting the tire to give up the show at any minute.
This poor car, it’s like it’s cursed or something. Every time I get the thing fixed somebody bangs it up again. Then again, there is a plus side
he thought, looking in his rear view mirror and watching Shelby pull in behind him.

He drove the car all the way up to the end of the driveway and jumped out. Shelby pulled up next to him, exiting her car. Aside from that fabulous tank top, she was wearing black silky short-shorts that showed off her amazingly lean muscular legs.

“Jack, I need to use the facilities before we get going.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I just cleaned it up the other day,” he said with a chuckle.

While Shelby disappeared down the hall to the bathroom, Jack went into the living room to check his messages. There were a couple more from Rene, which he quickly deleted, not wanting Shelby to overhear.
That’s ridiculous, it’s not like I’m dating Shelby, this is just a friendly dinner. That’s all.

Shelby had quickly snooped through the bathroom and, finding nothing of interest, she had snuck down the hall into Jack’s bedroom. She rummaged about in his nightstand and took a brief look in some of the top dresser drawers. Nothing out of the ordinary struck her, and certainly no journal.
That would have been far too lucky,
she thought.

Jack sat on the couch flipping impatiently through a magazine.
What is it with women and bathrooms, can’t it ever just be a quick thing? She’s probably doing her hair and touching up her makeup. She already looks plenty hot.

Just then Shelby entered the room. “This is a pretty neat old place you live in,” she commented.

Something about the way she said it didn’t strike Jack as all that sincere. Then again, maybe it was because he wasn’t all that fond of this place. It’s not like it had brought him any great luck so far, quite the contrary, nothing but spooky stories and odd noises to investigate. “Sure, I guess it’s all right if you like that kind of thing.”

“If you don’t like it, why are you living here? I know that’s kind of personal, but I can’t help asking.” She cocked her head, looking rather studious.