Assassin Affairs (8 page)

“Where
would I go? And what will I do for clothes?! You guys cut off all
that I had! I can't even walk yet due to my dizziness.”

“I'll
have them bring you a cane, Miss Jennings, but that will have to be
paid for, too.”

Jen pushed
the bedside button for more pain medication and the nurse promptly
joined them.

“How's
your memory today, Miss Jennings?” Claudette asked.

“It
sucks, and this woman is telling me you're going to be putting me out
on the street soon!”

“Oh,
don't worry, sweetie. Everything will work out. Memory loss is
usually temporary and the two officers that were here today will
surely be investigating your identity,” Claudette said, trying
to reassure her patient, while giving Miss Billings a nasty leer.

“What
if they find out I'm a wanted criminal?”

“Then
we'll just bill the county jail,” Claudette said, injecting a
bit of her dry humor.

“I
bet that's why she took my empty can of pop.”

“Why's
that?”

“She's
gonna pull my fingerprints off it to see if she needs to come back
and arrest me. Who was that first officer anyway?”

“I
don't know,” Claudette said, as Miss Billings left the room.
“He was pretty hot though.”

“Yeah,
I guess. I found him sort of intimidating,” Jen said.

Another
chopper could be seen landing on the nearby heliport as the nurse
turned on the TV and tuned in a channel for Jen to watch. A news
update about the mysterious explosion came on.

“Last
night's explosion at a remote, abandoned warehouse appears to be
connected to the recent kidnapping of TV celebrity Joanna Jennings'
eighteen-year-old daughter Jessica. A woman now identified through
fingerprints as Joanna's sister Jennifer was found unconscious on the
scene and flown to the Denver Trauma Center.”

Jen
promptly sat up in her bed saying, “Oh my God!”

One
Year Earlier

Joanna
Jennings had gotten her start in films as a young teenager. Her
perfectly shaped legs and butt had gotten her those initial roles. As
the years passed, her acting skills became unmatched and she had
become one of the most adored actresses in the world. The cable TV
channels always had on one of her movies, occasionally airing several
at a time. The aisles at the grocery store check-out counters had
been adorned with tabloid articles about her every week for years.
With her royalties and investments, her net worth was in the hundreds
of millions of dollars and the paparazzi fought one another for any
chance of a photo opportunity.

Today was
her fortieth birthday and they had gathered on the front lawn of her
Beverly Hills estate, awaiting her return from a recent filming in
Europe. Someone had wheeled in a large sign that said “Lordy
Lordy, Joanna is Forty!”

Joanna had
had a daughter out-of-wedlock when in her early-twenties and had
never married. While none of her films had ever been x-rated, she did
like to flaunt what she had, and her newest film had included a
backside nude scene as well as a rape incident. The reporters were
eager to ask her about it as a limo entered the estate, carrying both
her and her daughter Jessica who preferred to be called Jessie.

Included in
the camera-carrying crowd was a man who went only by the name Lionel.
He was tall and gangly, wore thick-rimmed glasses, and when
dressed-up he sported a bow-tie. Lionel was not a photographer.

Everyone
began shouting and snapping photos as the sleek, black sedan rolled
to a stop.

“Joanna,
how was your trip?” someone yelled as she stepped out of the
car, followed by young Jessie.

“How
did it feel being naked in front of the camera?” shouted
another.

“How
many times did they retake the rape scene?” shouted out Lionel,
trying to blend in with the others.

“Sorry,
guys. I'm too tired to do interviews,” she said as she hustled
her teenager into the house. Joanna preferred to keep the kid's press
exposure to a minimum.

During the
chaos and confusion, Lionel worked his away around to the back and
hid in some bushes while the others departed, hoping for a chance to
get inside later. There was only one security guard patrolling the
premises.

As the
mother and daughter unpacked, Joanna called out to Jessie, “Honey,
I've just made dinner reservations at the country club. Get cleaned
up and wear something nice for a change!”

“Yeah,
yeah, whatever.”

The house
was stuffy from sitting empty and unused for over a month, so Joanna
turned on some ceiling fans and opened up a few windows as well as
the sliding glass door to get some some fresh ventilation.

Jessie did
enjoy lounging in a toasty bubble-bath, and began filling the tub in
her bathroom with steaming hot water as she gathered up some clothes
to wear that she knew her mom would not like.

Lionel, who
had once been arrested for stalking and had spent time in various
mental institutions, slipped in unnoticed. He had been a fan ever
since Joanna appeared in her first film, and in his half-crazed
mind's eye, she was still the same young teen. As he tip-toed along
the bedroom area hallway, he eagerly anticipated what was about to
come. He paused outside the bathroom, distracted by the loud music
and singing, placing his face gently against the closed door, taking
in all the various scents. With his left hand he ever so gently
turned the doorknob, with his right hand he drew his long-bladed
knife.

Young
Jessie was resting her eyes as she enjoyed her music and a relaxing
soak, buried in the warming bubbles. Suddenly she felt her head being
jerked back as Lionel grabbed a handful of her hair and put the tip
of his blade at her throat.

“Keep
quiet and do as I say if you want to live!” he said in a hushed
voice.

She nodded
that she understood as he taped her mouth shut.

Lionel was
retarded and had been institutionalized for sexual deviancy, but each
time he had gone in, he had eventually convinced the doctors he was
fit to be released.

He firmly
gripped the sharp, forbidding blade as he stood back and admired the
scene in front of him. There sat the young and alluring naked Jessie,
mouth taped shut, partially covered by her soapy bubbles. Lionel
undid his pants and she looked away. They fell around his ankles, and
the tall, lanky man began to masturbate.

“I
hadn't realized you wore braces. They look good on you. Look at me!”

Jessie had
not lived a prudish childhood. She was part of the Hollywood
brat-pack, young teen kids of well-known celebrities that partied
accordingly. She had frequented clothing-optional parties more than
once and seen many of her young friends naked on more than one
occasion. When she looked up at Lionel, her eyes opened wide in
astonishment at the size of what she saw.

“You
look very pretty,” he said, gently stroking himself. “You
like this, don't you? Nod your head yes,” he instructed as he
extended his arm with the blade in hand.

Again, she
nodded.

They looked
on at one another for several minutes, then he repeated, “You
look very pretty. I like the purple streak you have running through
your lovely auburn hair. You have nice little titties. I like that,
too. I like that a lot!”

She just
glared back at him, unsure what to do.

“Stand
up!” he shouted in a loud, but muffled whisper. While she
hesitated, he reached for the electric hair dryer and held it in a
menacing manner as he switched it on. He motioned with his knife for
her to rise up out of the bubbles.

Not wanting
to get electrocuted or slashed, the frightened girl obeyed. Lionel
could barely contain himself as he leered at the beautiful, young
body.

“I
like the way you've dyed your hair with purple streaks in both
places,” he said admiringly. “It's nice when the carpet
matches the drapes in such a way. I do approve.” He let out a
wicked chortle. “This is Mr. Lenny,” he said, pointing to
his still fully extended body part. “He wants to shake hands.”

Aghast at
such a prospect, Jessie pretended not to understand the request.

“Reach
out and touch someone. You two can shake hands, but no kissing on the
first date!” He couldn't help but laugh at his own attempt of
humor.

Both were
startled as the bathroom door suddenly swung open.

“Honey,
I've laid out the clothes I want you to wear tonight,” Joanna
said as she entered. “Oh my God!”

She leaped
onto the surprised Lionel, and Jessie promptly joined her in subduing
the villainous character. They tied him up with his own duct tape and
called the police. Lionel was returned to his psychiatric facility.

One
Week Ago

Nearly a
year had passed when the doctors once again determined that Lionel
was fit to be released back into civilization. He blamed Joanna for
his confinement. If she hadn't barged in and ruined things for him,
everything would have turned out great, he thought. He wanted to make
her pay for her offense, and he wanted another shot at experiencing
quality time with Jessie.

Joanna sat
in front of her mirror brushing her hair when the doorbell rang.

“Ms.
Jennings, I'm Police Commissioner Gravina. We've met several times at
the Oscar Awards.”

“Yes,
I remember, Commissioner. How can I help you?”

“I
need to speak with you about a serious matter, ma'am.”

“Yes,
yes, by all means, please come in!”

“I'm
afraid I have bad news. The kind that's so ugly I felt I needed to
come and tell you in person.”

“Oh
my God! Is it my baby girl? It is, isn't it?!”

“Yes,
ma'am, I'm afraid so. Jessica was with a group of friends at the mall
when someone grabbed her in the parking lot and drove off with her.
The man was tall, but wearing a hoodie, so no one got a good look at
him.”

“Oh,
God, it wasn't that horrible Lionel character, was it?”

“Well,
we did just learn that he got released last week. The doctors said
that he was well enough to be returned into society to live a normal
life.”

“Those
morons!! Oh my God, oh my God!”

“We'd
like to set-up a phone tap, so that we can monitor and trace any
calls for ransom demands. We'll handle all the details.”

“No,
no, I don't want that. You can do whatever you want, but I won't be
taking any orders from you or any of your men or the FBI or whomever.
Money is no object for me. I want to bring in my own people, people
who will take orders from me, not tell me what to do.”

“Who
do you have in mind, ma'am?”

“Damn!
I don't frigging know!” she shouted back at the Commissioner as
she paced the room.

“Well,
this is strictly off the record, and you never heard it from me, but
there are people out there who specialize in helping with such things
for a price.”

“So
tell them I'll hire them. Let's get the ball rolling!”

“I'm
afraid it's not that simple. These folks work outside the law. I have
no direct contact with any of them; they're as elusive as shadows in
the night. They're not the sort you'd want involved in your life
unless you absolutely had to do so. With the proper cash incentives,
I could get the word out that you're interested in making contact. It
would be very expensive and you could end up making your life more
hellish than it is now. It's never safe to dance with the devil.”

“Commissioner,
I'll have a hundred thousand dollars cash in your hands by nightfall.
Use it however you see fit. You handle the selection; I'm not
street-smart enough to manage it. Tell them there's a million dollar
up-front payment and an additional ten million dollars when they
deliver my Jessica back to me. If this Lionel creature suffers an
agonizing death, there will be a bonus.”

That
evening she delivered a large envelope full of cash to the
Commissioner, reminding him that time was of the essence. She
returned to a houseful of agents working on the case, had a nightcap
to calm her nerves, changed into her nightie, and went to bed a
nervous wreck. About an hour before dawn she was jostled awake to
find a hand covering her mouth and the barrel of a pistol planted
firmly against her throat. Although the room was lit only by the
outside moonlight, she could tell that the culprit was a woman about
her own size and age.

“Shhh,
keep fucking quiet if you want to live, bitch,” she whispered.

Joanna
nodded and the woman released her hand, keeping the weapon at her
throat.

“How
did you get in here?! This place is full of cops,” she said in
a slumbrous tone.

“It's
what I do, lady,” she bragged, with a barely audible air of
self-confidence. “Now tell me about this job you want done.”

Joanna had
anticipated an early contact, but was overwhelmed by the young
woman's impressive introduction. Not wanting to risk wasting valuable
time, she had already assembled the million dollar advance. As she
began to talk, the woman interrupted.

“Wait
a minute, how do I know this isn't some sort of trap?” She
bluffed when she added, “You need to know I have a team of
snipers outside with night-vision scopes in case it is. Things could
get really messy really fast, Missy. Are you wearing a wire?”

“No,
of course not. Why in the hell would I be wearing a wire?”

“In
my line of work, one learns to expect the worst from people.”
The woman put away her pistol and pulled out a switchblade knife. The
outside light glittered on its metal blade. “Move over,”
she ordered. “I need to check you for a bug.” She slipped
under the covers, cozied up alongside Joanna with the blade at her
throat, and said, “You should know who you're in bed with, I
suppose. You can call me Laura. Now start telling me everything I
need to know while I check you out.”