Over. (This. Is. Not. Over. #2) Read online

  I look to Malcolm and he’s now looking at me as though he’s studying me. His eyes are focused on my every move. He’s thinking. His brain is spinning ideas around. He’s trying to make some ends meet. What is he thinking? What’s going on in his brain? What does he see? Why is he studying me?

  What is Malcolm Blair planning in that brain of his?

  Friday

  And Now …

  Danielle

  December 9th

  8:30 p.m.

  Never underestimate the power of annoyance.

  Annoyance, within five short days, turned me into a stone cold killer. I’m talking about a trap-her-ass-in-the-house-and-watch-that-bitch-burn killer. Death by burning; it’s a time honored tradition for us New Englanders. That’s how we kill all of our witches. It took the wiring of my home, the changing of my locks, the stealing of my car, the canceling of my accounts and –the gravest of all these indiscretions– the sending of butt naked pictures to my priest, to push me over the edge. I should have ordered Laura’s death with that first sin. And yet, it was only when she made my ass drive to Roxbury in search of cab fare, that I decided that murder was the only option. Yes, suffocation by smoke was the only retribution equivalent for such annoyance. But now, Malcolm and I are standing outside of the Four Seasons, our heads are nearly pressed together and he’s telling me that I had it all wrong.

  “It was Lola.”

  Uh-oh. Someone’s in trouble. And I’ve got a feeling it’s me.

  “What do you mean it was Lola?” And now the shivers begin. An acute shiver has started a wave of them inside of my body as I stand outside in frigid New York City, with its snow covered in blood. Blood. “Didn’t Laura have some guys come up here to rough you up?”

  “No.” He whispers. “Jon, Marlon, Matt. They did this.” He nods to the blood in the snow. Great!

  “What the fuck is going on!” I hiss. But more importantly, where is my child while Jon is up here trying to beat people up? Jon is someone’s parent, how is he setting a good example for his son? I swear, some people … “Malcolm, why have you been lying to me?”

  “Red, I’m trying to make this shit easy for everyone, okay? There are a lot of hurt feelings behind you and me and I’m just trying to make them all –the people and the feelings– go away. That’s it. We’ve pissed some people off because we didn’t do shit the right way. I was fucking around with you while you were still married, I drew up the divorce papers, I had them hand delivered to Jon’s hotel room. He’s livid. He lost you and to make matters worse, he lost you to me. I can’t fault him for wanting to kill my ass.

  Laura and Lola are another story altogether; they’ve been at war with each other for years now and they will use anyone or anything as weapons of mass destruction. In this instance, Lola used you. Before this, Laura used Cadence. Lola used you to destroy Laura because she knew you would.”

  “Shit! Why not tell me the truth Malcolm? Before I–”

  “The truth isn’t always in everyone’s best interests.” He locks eyes with me and in that moment, there is no snow, no New York City shoppers, no sounds of Ave Maria playing from the hotel’s sound system. It’s just Malcolm, me and the unsaid.

  The fire.

  Just a short while ago, Malcolm and I dressed for the concert in relative silence. He showered and shaved, explaining only that my bag was lost and was now found. Considering its owner, obviously my bag was in need of religion. Anyways, I didn’t question it. I still had Rena’s voice ringing through my head. I knew that Laura was trapped in that house and I figured that she’d be lost soon. I wasn’t even sad about it, after all, she annoyed me for five days straight, I logically assumed that my murder was the final step in her plan. Had I known that Jon was the one who banged up Malcolm’s face and Lola was the one who, for some god-forsaken reason, was trying to annoy me, I wouldn’t have burned Laura’s house down … with her inside of it. Considering this new evidence, I took matters with Laura a bit too far.

  It was as Malcolm and I were heading downstairs, in the elevator that he received a call from the fire commissioner, notifying him of the fire in his home. Yes, Laura’s home was actually owned by Malcolm. I burned Malcolm’s home down. I burned Malcolm’s home down and killed Laura in the process, I thought to myself. My next thought was, why in the hell did Malcolm still own her home? Though the question was nagging me the entire way down to the ground floor, I figured I’d have the decency to wait until after Laura’s wake and just before her funeral to ask him that. But it seems that my plans have now changed.

  There were no bodies found in the rubble.

  Laura is alive somewhere out here. She’s coughing and wheezing, her face is covered in soot, her clothes are crisp to the touch. And she’s alive. Somebody’s going to be in trouble, and I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be me.

  “Do you hear me Red? The truth isn’t always in everyone’s best interests.”

  “Okay.” I whisper.

  “Got it?” He continues to lock his eyes with mine while he nods. He knows I had a part in it, but he hasn’t asked me the details. He doesn’t want to know. He needs to be able to truthfully deny it all. Why? Well because after my failed attempt at murder tonight, Malcolm is now my attorney. And this time, he’s not drawing up divorce papers to deliver to Jon, this time, he’s keeping me out of prison for conspiracy to kill someone who annoyed me.

  “I know nothing.” I say to him. He nods again.

  “Good … come on.” He says as he straightens himself, squares his shoulders and then looks towards the front doors of the Four Seasons. And smiles. “You all ready for this concert?” I turn and see Nat, Dena, Winnie and Jacob walking out. I’m so nervous as this point, that I can feel adrenaline rushing through my entire body. Even my scalp is tingling.

  “What the hell happened down here?” Winnie asks as she points to the bloody snow and then looks around at the men whose faces are banged up.

  I’m so nervous, I’m so nervous, I’m so nervous … I lean on Malcolm, I need his touch to tell me everything’s going to be okay. He begins brushing my arm with his hand. Relax, Danielle.

  “Life happened down here baby.” Jacob answers with a smirk. “But don’t worry, they got as good as they gave.”

  “Well I would hope so.” Dena says. “How dare some random guys pick a fight with you three for no reason whatsoever.”

  “Don’t be so judgmental Dena, sometimes shit happens.” I answer quickly, anxiety fueling my annoyance for her. “Sometimes shit happens and people look at other people and pick fights. So it happened and now is the time to move on. No sense of dwelling on the past. Isn’t that what the bible says? Isn’t that what Christmas is all about?”

  “O … kay …”

  “Pearls of wisdom, Red.” Malcolm says as he massages the back of my neck with his thumb. Baby, calm your ass down. “Alright, let’s go.” Malcolm points to a limo alongside the curb and we all began to pile in. Everyone around me, including Malcolm, is excited about seeing Radiohead.

  And all the while, Laura is somewhere in the world coughing up smoke.

  Saturday

  Attorney Blair

  12:30 a.m.

  I’m not Malcolm right now, I’m Danielle Rouge’s attorney. None of this shit is funny so there will be no smirks, no winks, no laughs, no bullshitting. This is about business right now … and Danielle. Business and Danielle. That’s it.

  Incoming Call 12:30 am: Anonymous Caller.

  “Blair.” I answer on the third ring.

  “So where is she?” Rossi asks. It’s about time, where the hell has he been?

  “Are you speaking on your secured line?” Blair and Associates has a secured line now, connected over a network that is intercepted and monitored by Nat, our techie. (Fuck you Jon, you aren’t the only one who knows how to play around with wires.) It was a much needed link in our organizational chain, after Jon began tapping into Danielle’s phone. Consider it fate or luck or chance or intuition but it’
s the line that Nat placed Danielle on just this morning, while we all headed to New York. Danielle slept on the plane, Winnie grabbed her clutch, Nat retrieved her phone. Done. Don’t make that face, she would be in deep shit if I hadn’t of authorized that.

  Danielle whispered in my ear, at the concert, that there was something that I needed to know. I didn’t tell her what I was planning, but I’m sure Lola knows the fire was all me, she said. Okay, I said to her, until this goes away, no cell phones, and no talk of that fire or Laura. She nodded her head in agreement and said nothing. I went ahead and told everyone the same: the crew, our parents and Lola. Rossi and Cadence were the only ones I wasn’t able to get in contact with. What many people don’t realize is that cell phones are the enemy. It’s an invention that I wish had never been taken off of the battle field and placed into the hands of civilians. Yes, Nat has connected us all to a private line but that doesn’t protect us from every threat there is: someone accidentally overhearing your conversation, a room being wired or NSA overriding your network. None of us have eyes in the back of our heads; sometimes we don’t see the person standing behind us as we speak on our phones. Sometimes we forget that public buildings have security cameras and microphones. Sometimes we don’t realize that the government can do whatever they want to whomever they choose. So, no cell phones and no calls about this fire. I don’t need anything or anyone complicating matters because I have a gut feeling that Laura and this fire are about to cause me problems.

  “Yes, I’m on the secured line.” Rossi answers.

  “I don’t know where she is.” I say as I look around the airport to make sure that I’m not within ear shot of anyone. Danielle is sitting with Jacob, Nat, Dena and Winnie, waiting to board our private flight back to Boston. While she and Winnie are whispering and shaking their heads in disbelief of the fire, Dena’s a wreck and has been uncontrollably crying since the concert ended and I told them all the news. Laura and Dena were once best friends, not too long ago, until Laura began behaving more combative than she already was. Nat’s rubbing Dena’s back and Jacob is searching through his phone. He’s trying to locate Laura. But, chances are, Laura’s phone was burned in the fire. This means one thing: The GPS he and I placed on her phone (for her protection as well as our own) is null and void. We’re not going to find her until we get back to Boston.

  Now you’re probably wondering how I could take my ass to a concert when Laura could be dead in the streets somewhere. But I’m not as heartless as I seem. I didn’t tell anyone of the fire before the concert because we had to go. Danielle needed an alibi. It’s as simple as that. It was right after the concert, while we were at a bar, that I pretended to get a call, excused myself and then came back over to the crew. There’s been a fire, I said. Laura wasn’t found in it but we can’t place her. That declaration caused a frenzy of wails from Dena and a few oh shits from Winnie, Nat and Jacob. Danielle’s eyes were glued to mine but she didn’t say a word. So we all headed back to the Four Seasons, packed our bags, called Jim (our private pilot) and now we’re heading back to Boston.

  Laura missing in action wouldn’t bother me ordinarily; she could have just been out when the fire took place. Throughout the concert, I didn’t sweat it. But as we were leaving the bar, Dena told me that the last time she spoke with Laura was earlier this evening. Apparently Laura was doing some light exercises and practicing her flips before she headed to bed. (Don’t ask.) Anyways, if Laura was telling Dena the truth, that’s a problem. If Laura was home when the fire was set but the fire department found no bodies after the blaze was put out, where is Laura now?

  “You don’t know where she is?” Rossi asks.

  “When I get to Boston, I’ll be able to look around, see what’s going on.” He heaves a big sigh; patience with his daughters is wearing thin.

  “Malcolm, listen to me. I will not allow those silly ass girls of mine to ruin my campaign and my good reputation. Do you hear me?”

  “I hear you.”

  “I have enough problems with Cynthia.” His mistress.

  “I get it.”

  “Lola and Laura have been a thorn in my side since the day they laid eyes on each other. Laura ate my cookie, Lola wore my dress, Laura fucked my husband, Lola burned my house down. Enough! Both of them are just silly as hell! Now I don’t know what the hell happened with that fire but I know it has Lola written all over it.”

  “I agree.” What? It does seem like something Lola would do. I mean, she didn’t do it, but it does seem like she would have. But, in a way, if you really think about it, Lola was the match behind that flame. She played on Danielle’s fighting spirit in order to manipulate her into eventually destroying Laura. I’m sure Lola didn’t know the time or place, but I’m certain she knew it would happen. How did she know Danielle would fight back? Come on ... this is Badass we’re talking about here. Let’s run down the list:

  Badass doesn’t like the way men treat women: She becomes a feminist.

  Badass doesn’t like the quality of literature that’s flooding the markets: She starts her own literary agency.

  Badass doesn’t like the way Jon treats her: She divorces Jon.

  This tells you two things about Danielle. First, if she doesn’t like something, she’s going to change it. There’s no way in hell she’s going to sit by and allow something to just happen to her. And second, she won’t place her life in the hands of anyone else. Not even mine. She was dissatisfied with my progress. She didn’t think I was moving fast enough. She didn’t like the way I handled the matter. She handled the matter herself. That’s Badass.

  Yet, even though Lola is to blame, I can understand her motives and will even attempt to protect her, for as long as it doesn’t interfere with me protecting Danielle. She is my first priority. Why protect Lola? Lola loves my brother and was nearly driven mad after the news of his and Laura’s affair came out. Admittedly, I was less devastated. In fact I was relieved. Laura is a damn handful. I was exhausted after years of keeping her alive. I tried to save her, just like I save everyone else. I tried to fix her, just like I fix everything else. But in the end, I couldn’t. She was my only failed assignment. And, if I can’t successfully complete an assignment, it’s only fair to allow someone else to. I wish Cadence luck.

  “So this is what I want you to do,” Rossi continues, “if Laura is lost, let her stay lost. I want her and Lola as far away from my campaign as you can get them. I’m announcing my GOP candidacy next week and if news of me having two crazy ass daughters comes out, I won’t have a chance at becoming the Republican nominee. And, listen to me when I say this Malcolm, I want this presidency. But how can the American people trust me with keeping order in the White House if my own daughters are running around burning each other’s houses down? So keep them away from me and each other until after I win this election, after that, hell, let ‘em kill each other.”

  “Got it.”

  “Good. So find Laura and then leave her there.”

  “Done. But I’ve got a theory.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Lola isn’t in Houston.”

  “She’s not?”

  “No, she’s in New York. Alone. Which means Cadence has a day or two to himself.”

  “So he flew into Boston.”

  “Exactly. He flew into Boston, he went to see Laura and he was there when the fire started.”

  “And he got her out.”

  “He’s hiding her.”

  “He thinks Lola may have been behind the fire.”

  “He does.”

  “He’s trying to protect Laura.”

  “He is.”

  “How romantic. That Cadence is the sappiest sack of shit that I’ve ever seen in my life.” He laughs. “Well if Cadence’s silly ass wants to be prince charming and save Laura from the wicked witch, then let him. As long as he keeps Lola and Laura away from me and this campaign, I’m fine with it.”

  “I’ll track Laura down.”

  “Make sure sh
e has a place to stay, food to eat, money to live off of, Lithium to swallow, Cadence to fuck and then keep her away from me.”

  “Done.”

  “If Lola finds out and kills Laura before the presidency, we’ll just have a private funeral.” I look at my watch; I need to get in touch with Cadence.

  “Okay.” Wait, what did he just say?

  “Just tell the media she came down with a disease or something.”

  “Will do.” Where the hell is Cadence?

  “I’m thinking brain cancer. Just in case some stories pop up about her crazy ass, she’ll have an excuse.”

  “Sounds good.” Cadence had to go to a hotel …

  “Also since Jacob’s brother-in-law is a surgeon we’ll get him to make the statement if need be.”

  “I’ll talk to Jake.” Damn, Cadence and Laura had to get out right? There were no bodies found.

  “Now, when people begin to ask where Laura is just tell them she’s on a sabbatical or doing missionary work and feeding scrawny kids in Africa … becoming a better Catholic, led by the morals I’ve instilled in her.” Let’s not go overboard here.

  “I’ll tell them she’s with your family in Sicily. She has an elderly aunt she’s spending time with.”

  “Very well.”

  My other line beeps.

  Cadence. About damn time.

  “I’ll see you when I touch down.” I say to Rossi before switching over to Cadence. That was quite enough of that muthafucka. “Cadence.”

  “I got her.”

  “I figured, I’m on my way back but I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Okay.” He sounds nervous.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just a bit shaken up, that’s all. I was in bed when I smelled the house burning down.”

  “Shake it off. Listen, I need you to call our connects who work for the city and get that deed out of my name.”