Paradise Falls (50 page)

“Jacob Kane,” said Jacob, “this is Jennifer Katzenberg.”

“Katzenberg? You related to James?”

“I’m his son’s widow,” said Jennifer.

The old man nodded gravely, though the motion of his chins soured the effect somewhat. “A terrible loss. We all felt for him. Such a tragedy.”

“Who could have seen that coming?” said Jacob.

Jennifer stiffened.

He slapped Jacob’s back. “Who indeed. I know it’s a bit late, but sorry for your loss, dear.”

“Thank you,” Jennifer murmured.

She scrunched her face as soon as he was out of sight. Jacob flashed her a genuine smile and moved into the crowd. Jennifer nabbed another cocktail weenie from a passing waiter. They were good. The stuffed mushrooms weren’t bad, either.

Then she froze, locked her arm around Jacob’s elbow and pulled him away from wherever he was going.

“Jennifer?” he whispered, leaning down, “What is it?”

Her throat closed like a fist, and she struggled to breathe. What was
she
doing
here?

Jennifer stood up when she heard the click-clack of heels on the floor behind her, the sound of a woman striding with purposeful authority. Jennifer clenched her fists and Jacob began to say something, until he looked back and she felt him tense, too. It would be easy to recognize her.

With a deep sigh, Jennifer turned around and faced her. An extra inch put her at a full six feet tall, making her almost as tall as Jacob. Like Jennifer, she wore waist length hair in a loose, plaited braid, though she had her share of gray winging out from her temples, threading through her blazing red hair like steel wound through copper. The years had not lined her face, and she had a gymnast’s narrow physique. When she folded her arms under her chest, Jennifer shrank back and froze.

“What are you doing here?” her mother hissed.

Jacob stepped in. “It was either this or go to the movies. We flipped a coin.”

Her mother did not flinch at all. She looked Jacob right in the eyes.

“Very funny. Are you a comedian? Don’t answer that. I know who you are. Katherine told me you’d found yourself a sugar daddy. I suppose it was inevitable. You could hardly expect to support yourself on a teacher’s salary in that podunk little town. What happened to your face? Did he hit you?”

“Mother!” Jennifer squeaked.

No. I got cut by an outlaw biker before my boyfriend killed him and we raided a brothel to rescue child sex slaves.

“No,” she added, quickly, and looked at the floor.

“What are
you
doing here?” said Jacob.

Her mother somehow managed to look down her nose at him. “I’m working as an aide on Senator Katzenberg’s campaign.”

Speak of the devil. There he was.

Jennifer looked past her mother and watched James stalk into the crowd. Elliot was behind him, a small bandage still on his nose, like one of those snoring strips. He spotted her and a shark like grin flickered on his face until he saw Jacob and flinched. Jacob took her hand. James motioned for Elliot to stay put and walked over, cutting through the crowd. He reached Jennifer’s mother and put his hand on her bare shoulder, and gave a light squeeze.

It was quick, brief, intense. The way they looked at each other, the way she turned slightly, inviting his touch, and the genuine smile on her fact when their eyes met, before her customary frown came back as she looked away and straightened herself.

Oh God. Jennifer wanted to throw up.

“Jennifer,” said James, nodding. “It’s been a while.”

A while? The last time he talked to her, he called her an Irish slut and threatened to have her killed. Jennifer forced a fake smile on her face.

James looked at Jacob.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“No, sir, we have not.”

James offered his hand. “James Katzenberg.”

Jacob took his hand, and shook. Hard.

“Hello. My name is Jacob Kane.”

Jennifer’s little voice finished it for him.

You killed my sister.

Prepare to die.

10.

“Hello. My name is Jacob Kane.”

You killed my sister. Prepare to die.

“A pleasure,” said James, his eyes darting from Jennifer to her mother.

Jacob was almost startled by the resemblance. If Jennifer introduced her mother as her sister, Jacob would have believed it. What shocked him yet more was the reaction when James laid a hand on her shoulder. Her reaction was classic. Her pupils dilated, her breathing patterns changed, a subtle pink flush appeared on her cheeks and she smiled unconsciously before forcing herself back to what the kids these days called a
total bitchface
. Jennifer shrank away from her, more frightened than Jacob had ever seen, except perhaps where Elliot was involved.

Elliot himself was on the other side of the grand foyer, talking to someone important, constantly shooting glances their way.

Jacob winked at him, and Elliot jerked, spilling champagne onto his shirt cuff. He excused himself and stalked off, scowling, leaving his conversation partner to shrug and turn to someone else.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here as a supporter,” said James.

Jacob snapped back around to him. “I’m a big believer in social causes. I’d hoped to discuss something I had in mind for Paradise Falls. I call it the Paradise Falls Restoration Project.”

“Oh?” said James, his head tilting. He was hard to read. He was either looking for an out, or genuinely curious.

“I’ve drawn up a number of preliminary plans to revitalize our town,” said Jacob. “I’m sure you’d be interested.”

Jennifer shot him a curiously look. He shrugged back. She never asked.

“What sort of plans?”

“For one,” said Jacob, “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I own a controlling interest in the Herzenberg Dairy Group,” said Jacob. “My holding company has put in a bid to purchase the Dean Dairy and fold it into the Herzenberg group. We’ll be taking over the contracts with the local farmers. I’m also looking to move the Herzenberg operation to Paradise Falls. I have some people scouting out land. I also have some of my representatives working with a few other companies. I was hoping you could put a word in with your brother about some tax breaks or incentives to bring their operations to the Falls.”

James nodded. “I’ll consider that.”

“I had a few other ideas, as well. Have you seen the governor? I want to open a charter school in town and rehabilitate the old movie theater. There’s a lot of vacant real estate on Commerce Street that would be very attractive, and I’m in talks with an architect about some mixed income housing and a home for disadvantaged and at-risk youth.”

James eyed him. “I see. That all sounds rather interesting.”

“I’ve purchased the old pharmacy and we’re converting it into a headquarters for the project. I can do a lot of this alone. I know you’re a big proponent of private investors taking up social causes, but we both know the government can do things private citizens can’t. I’d like to make our home beautiful again.”

“Right,” said James. “Perhaps we should speak later, after dinner, in private. Will you excuse us? I need to borrow my aide here to discuss something.”

James took Jennifer’s mother’s wrist and pulled her away, nodding over his shoulder. The way they walked together clinched it. They had the oddly synchronized movements of a couple who’d been much closer than holding hands, and knew each other’s movements.

Jennifer made a little noise and Jacob squeezed her hand.

“Hey,” he said.

She turned away.

“Did you hear what she said?”

“Yes. She’s a huge bitch.”

Jennifer scowled at him.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. You deserve better.”

She scowled, but the corners of her lips pulled into a secret smile.

“Hey, Jenny.”

Jacob froze. Jennifer turned. There he was.

Elliot had a drink in his hand. He downed half the flute of champagne in a single gulp.

“Hey there, tall dark and asshole,” Elliot said, in a light, conversational tone. “You got a lot of balls showing up at something like this.”

“What do you want?”

Elliot grinned and ignored him.

“Hey, Jenny. What’s say we ditch this loser, and-“

“Elliot,” Jennifer said, flatly, “Go fuck yourself.”

Elliot stood there for a second. A half dozen emotions flickered on his face, with confusion putting on a few encore performances. He looked from Jennifer to Jacob and back again and in his supreme eloquence said, “What?”

Jennifer squeezed Jacob’s hand. She continued to speak, very calmly.

“I know what you did. I turned you down, so you went out a whorehouse and picked up a seventeen year old girl and made her dye her hair red. That girl was a slave, Elliot. They kidnapped her and injected her with drugs and forced her to service pond scum like you. You disgust me, you pig. I don’t want to see you or hear the sound of your voice. Get out of my life.”

The confusion on his face twisted into anger.

“You cunt,” he snapped. “You’re fucking dead to me. You too,” he looked at Jacob. “Watch your back, rich boy.”

Jacob nodded. “Any time, Elliot.”

He walked away, and when he was back in the crowd, Jennifer began trembling, squeezing his hand. It hurt, but he didn’t care.

“Are you okay?”

“I can’t believe I was so afraid of him,” said Jennifer. She looked past Jacob, at herself in the mirror on the wall behind the chafing dishes on the big table. She brushed the hair away from her bandage and looked at her own face and smiled.

“My mother, Elliot,” she said. “They can all go to hell.”

She let her hair drop back into place and pressed to his side. He leaned down.

“If you keep talking like this, we’re going to need to stop on the way home and grab another box of rubbers.”

“There’s no if about it,” said Jennifer.

“Interesting,” a voice behind him purred. “A whorehouse?”

Jacob and Jennifer turned together.

The woman from the attorney’s office stood behind them in a smart pantsuit, her dark eyes flitting around the room.

“You snuck up on me,” said Jacob.

“I’m good at it.”

The woman flipped the press badge clipped to her lapel. “Today I am Maya. I am a reporter. I am reporting.”

“I see,” said Jacob.

“What you said to him,” she glanced at Elliot. “You have proof?”

“We have proof of lots of things,” said Jacob. “You share what you have and I might be interested in sharing what we have. I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“You can’t,” Maya said, shrugging. “I would not trust anyone. Especially here. I will be seeing you, I think.”

Without another word she turned and walked off. Jacob followed her with her eyes and looked at Jennifer.

“Now what,” she said. “Who’s next?”

Jacob shrugged. “Now, I think we eat dinner.”

The crowd was gathering to head into the dining room. Jacob scanned the faces, and Jennifer held his hand, doing the same.

Jacob froze.

There was a man speaking to James Katzenberg. Of middle height, he was physically unimpressive, in a dark suit with no tie, but he had a long scar running from his chin up on the right side of his face. It disappeared under a padded medical eyepatch and continued up his head, forming a narrow bald spot in his hair where the smooth scar tissue grew no hair. Jacob turned away, his knees buckling, pulling Jennifer with him. Her hand shot to his back as he leaned over and put his hand on the buffet table, sucking in a breath.

His chest turned to ice and crushed inwards. Every scar on his body burned, and his hand throbbed. When he opened his eyes he didn’t see parquet floor. He saw the inside of an MRAP. The side wall was blown in, like a giant’s fist punched clean through it. There was fire everywhere. Beautiful fire, like liquid, sliding over everything. Sergeant Barnes was in the front seat next to the driver, Abrams. Barnes was on fire and his legs weren’t attached to his body. Jacob’s hands closed around somebody’s belt and he pulled, trying to free himself from the wreckage.

Red hot pain sawed into his body everywhere. The worst agony he’d ever physically known shot up his left arm as he flexed a shattered hand, every single bone broken. There was a long gash in his leg, wetting his fatigues to his skin. He flopped out in agony on the hot pavement, crying out for his mother. He closed his eyes a few times but the world just doubled, the inside of James Katzenberg’s house hazing behind the real world as he feared he was finally waking up from the long dream. Jennifer’s voice sang in the distance, trying to reach him, but she was too far.

Then he was lying on the floor in a dirty basement, listening to water drip. A man in a dark suit with no tie walked into the room and looked at Jacob and his cellmate. Jacob had spoken to the man in accented, halting English. He was a doctor. He helped patch Jacob up. Now Jacob was awake.

The man in the dark suit brandished a hooked knife, a foot long and gleaming, so sharp the edge blurred. He pointed from Jacob to the doctor and back again.

“One of you will be cut. I leave it to you to choose,” he said, to Jacob.

His hand closed on Jennifer’s and she made a sound of pain, but didn’t cry out. She rubbed his back. Her voice was louder or he was hearing her more clearly.

“Not me,” Jacob screamed, “Don’t cut me! Not me!” he broke down in sobs, “I want to go home!
I want to go home!”

The man int he dark suit nodded.

“For your cowardice, it will be you who is cut.”

Then the knife bit into his flesh, and the truth of it seasoned the pain.

Coward.

“Jacob,” Jennifer snapped.

He looked up at her. She snatched a handkerchief from his coat pocket and swiped at his eyes. The gesture was oddly motherly and only made his stomach tighten more as the despair crept though him.

“Hey?” she said. “What’s wrong? What’s happening. You’re scaring me. Talk to me.”

He tried to speak, but no words came out, only dry hisses.

“Jacob,” she said, calmly. “Hey. We can go if you need to. I’m here for you.”

He stood up, and took a deep breath. He looked into her gray eyes until he could breathe again. The crowd was mostly inside the dining room now, but James was still in conversation with
him.