Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 05 - The Devil's Breath (19 page)

The gun reloaded, I sent the target down the line, about as far as it had been. I turned to look at Bobby who leaned against the wall, the rifle resting by his hand. I couldn’t see if the safety was on or off. Had I clicked it off? Was that the sound he heard? That I didn’t even know I’d made? But how could he hear that with mufflers on?

Returning my attention to the target, I raised the gun. It was light and my hands were steady as I lined up the white dots, three in a row, and fired. The gun stayed steady, hardly a jump at all. I thought about the guns I’d used in India, they kicked like horses, my wrists, shoulders, and fingers sore for days. That wouldn’t happen with this bad boy. And my aim wasn’t bad either. I squinted down the line and saw that I was almost dead center, bullseye. I raised the gun and tapped the silhouette of a man between the eyes. Then I gave him two eyes. The one to the left was not as high as the one to the right. My man’s smile was crooked and the buttons down his chest not entirely even but I thought it was pretty good.

“We could teach you to make that a straight line,” Bobby said as I brought in the target.

“Don’t know if that’s something I need to know,” I answered, pulling off my ear protection. “Not often I’m shooting a still target that far off with a handgun.”

A man came in wearing a dark suit and bright blue tie, he was young and eager looking. “Sir,” he said to Bobby. Maxim pulled his ear muffs off and the man continued. “You asked me to remind you.”

Bobby looked down at his watch. “Right, I’ll be right there.” He handed the man his rifle. “Take care of this for me.” The man took it like he’d held the weapon before.

“Yes, sir,” he said, then turned and left.

“Don’t tell me he’s not ex-something military,” I said.

Bobby smiled. “I can offer you the best training in the world, the best equipment and technology. What is it that you want?”

I turned away from him and unclipped my target. I could feel his annoyance. Bobby Maxim was not used to people turning their back on him. Rolling up the target I turned, shaking my head. “You can’t give me what I want.”

His lips pursed and a light flush of color rose on his cheeks. “Tell me,” he said, his voice low and threatening.

I leaned back against the barrier between me and the shooting lanes. “I want Hugh exonerated from all charges.”

“That takes time.”

I narrowed my eyes. “But you have a plan for how to do it?”

A smile touched his lips and I knew I’d blown it. He’d heard the hope in my voice. The obvious truth that I did not have a plan and was looking for a good one.

“Yes, Sydney,” Maxim said. “I always have a plan.”

Holding up the hand gun I asked, “If I promise not to shoot you with this, can I keep it?”

Bobby laughed. “Sure,” he said, pushing off against the wall and turning toward the exit. “See you later,” he said over his shoulder before passing through the doors. They swung back and forth for a moment until resting in place.

I looked around the big empty room and decided I wanted to shoot some more bullets.

T
he restaurant Merl took me to was tucked into a back street of downtown Miami. It was late for the regular lunch crowd and we had the place mostly to ourselves. The restaurant’s garden area was nestled between taller buildings so that shade covered the yard. The menu was vegetarian, the waiter wore dreadlocks, and the scent of strong marijuana hung in the air.

Our waiter wasn’t delighted by the presence of
four
dogs but he brought them bowls of waters and then ignored them. Merl ordered us both green juice specials and falafel platters, assuring me that I would love the energy it gave me. I nodded with a sarcastic look on my face.

Settling back against the rattan chair I laid my menu onto the metal table. “So, how have you been?” Merl asked.

“It’s been a long time. Almost four years.”

“Yes, a lot has changed.”

“For us both, I imagine.When did you lose Thunder?” I asked.

“About four months ago,” he answered, blinking his long lashes.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, leaning forward and laying one of my hands over his.

“Thanks,” he said, looking down at the dogs resting at our feet. Turning back to me he asked, “How are you doing with your loss? Is it any better?”

I shrugged and smiled. “I think it is.” I paused and took a deep breath. “Something happened.”

“Yes?”

I looked up into his deep, warm eyes. “I hired mourners,” I said.

“Mourners?”

“Yes, professional mourners, in Udaipur, India. Women wearing long black dresses who cried and wailed for my loss. And it let me…I don’t know. It let something loose in me.” I closed my eyes remembering that night when I’d stood on my balcony overlooking the city, its lake sparkling in the moonlight while the mourners below undulated and screamed. I could feel the grief course through me and out of me. Then Mulberry had found me, wailing on my balcony, and we’d… I opened my eyes, trying to figure out how to explain the shift, so subtle yet clearly different.

“It’s not that the hole is gone,” Merl said. “Maybe just that now you feel as though you may be able to fill it again?”

“I think that might be right,” I answered.

The waiter returned with tall glasses filled with chlorophyll green drinks and we both leaned back so that he could place them in front of us. The drink smelled of freshly cut grass. A smell I love, just not in my beverages.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Merl said as the waiter left us. “That you’re feeling different. I, too, have gone through some,” he smiled and shrugged, “changes of heart, perhaps, is what we should call it.”

“Oh really?” I said, smiling.

The waiter returned again, this time with our food. Merl watched him leave, the restaurant door closing him inside where the air conditioning hummed. Merl turned to me. “I know Dan told you about Joyful Justice.”

I straightened, the hairs on my arms raising. Blue sat up and looked at me, his gaze keen. Merl put his hand on my forearm. “Sydney, calm down, you’re hyperventilating.”

I realized he was right and sat back, taking several deep breaths. Leaning forward I took a sip of the green drink; it tasted like sweet grass with bitter edges but it felt good going down.

“You don’t want Joyful Justice to exist?”

“No, I don’t want it to exist,” I snapped. “Of course not. It’s ridiculous. All those people on that site are following a fictional character. I was never that person. I did not avenge my brother’s death. That would be Bobby Maxim. They should go fucking worship at his feet.”

“Eat something,” Merl said, pointing to my plate. “You’ll feel better.”

I didn’t argue, instead inhaling the delicious falafels after wrapping them in a pita and dousing them in yogurt and hot sauces. Then I dipped my fries into the leftover sauces before finally licking my fingers and sitting back. Merl was quiet as well, his energy calm and collected, like always. My belly felt very full and I suddenly wanted a nap. The waiter came back out and took our coffee order, removing the empty plates.

“Now Sydney, I understand that you are not ready to hear about Joyful Justice but we’ve reached a point where we have no choice.”

“Who is we?” I asked. Blue shifted, resting his head into my lap and I laid my hand onto his head. “You’re a member of Joyful Justice?”

Merl pursed his lips and gave a curt nod, but before I could ask another question he cut me off. “First, I need you to know that I can’t give you much information at this time. But not telling you started to feel more like a lie than a safety precaution.”

“Safety precaution?” I asked. “What the hell does that mean? And since when are you a vigilante?” I said, keeping my voice a whisper so that it wouldn’t turn into a scream.

“You obviously realize how much bigger Joyful Justice is than you. As you said, it’s based on a fictional character, an idea, a martyr in fact.”

“A martyr? Merl-”

He waved me silent before I could continue. Taking my free hand in his he squeezed it softly. “You changed my life, you changed the way that I saw the world and what I wanted out of it. And I’m not the only one.”

“You’re the one who told me I was a freakin’ idiot-”

He cut me off again. “What you did was idiotic. I don’t believe that violence is the only solution or that you should run off half-cocked not caring if you live or die. But what you taught me is that the strong must protect the weak. And the best way to gain strength, Sydney, is through connections. Through a network of people who protect and support you.”

“Is Mulberry a member?” I asked.

He nodded. “It was decided that I should be the one to tell you.”

“But Dan-”

“He wasn’t supposed to do that.”

“So you all agreed on how to deal with me?” I asked, licking my lips, feeling light- headed.

“Yes, and now you have a choice on how to treat all of us. You can join us Sydney, become a member, choose to be a part of something bigger than yourself, bigger than any person can be on their own. Or you can be pissed about how you inspired us all.”

He let my hand go and stood, his dogs rising to their feet. The waiter came out carrying a single cup of coffee. “I’ll see you soon,” Merl said as he dropped some money on the table. Then he turned and left, his dogs following close behind.

#

I
paid and was sipping my coffee when Mulberry called. “I checked the logs. Doesn’t look like Professor Nablestone has ever visited the office.”

“Okay,” I said.

He continued, his voice more upbeat. “Some good news, it looks like Santiago was right,” he said. “Hugh came back positive for datura.”

“Great,” I said.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the office.”

“Meet me where we jog,” I said. “We need to talk.”

I hung up and when he called back I didn’t answer. Driving over the causeway toward Miami Beach I wondered what to do. I trusted that Mulberry cared about me and that in his mind everything he did was for my own good. But I also knew that sometimes when he tried to protect me he made mistakes. I needed to know what was going on.

I parked near our spot, then Blue and I walked the short block to the shaded space under our tree. I sat down on the wall and Blue sat on the sidewalk next to me. It was hot even in the shade. Blue panted. I felt sweat gather at my hairline and between my breasts.

Mulberry showed up holding his suit jacket, his sleeves rolled up and sweat dappling his dress shirt. “What’s going on?” he asked, standing over me.

“You tell me, Mulberry. One minute you admit to know about Joyful Justice and the next I find out that you’re a member of it.”

He licked his lips. “I tried to tell you.”

“When?”

“Last night,” he said, an edge of anger in his voice.

“Yeah, well, that still woulda been a little late.”

He sat down on the wall next to me, not so that we were touching but I felt the heat coming off him anyway. “Sydney, you made it pretty clear to Dan, Malina, and anyone else who was paying attention that bringing up Joyful Justice made you mad. See, see,” he said pointing at my face. “You should see your expression right now.”

“How can you possibly think this is a good idea?” I asked, trying to keep the anger I felt out of my voice.

It didn’t work. Mulberry puffed himself up, just like Blue and his hackles, I thought. “You try and pretend like you don’t need anyone, Sydney, but that’s bullshit. I’m not afraid to admit that I need people in my life. People who care about the same things as me. People who are striving for something bigger in this world.”

“Since when are you striving for the same things as me,” I whispered so that I wouldn’t yell it. “You work for goddamn Robert Maxim.”

He didn’t answer but turned away from me. “Wait,” I said. “Hold on,” I stood up. “Is he involved with Joyful Justice?”

Mulberry almost laughed as he looked up at me. “No,” he said, sounding fully amused.

“Then how can you work for him and for Joyful Justice”?

“We can’t talk about that.”

“Because I’m not a member of Joyful Justice! Are you kidding me?”

“Keep your voice down.”

I gripped my hands into fists, feeling my nails dig into my palm, rage pouring through me. “Keep my voice down?” I hissed. “All my friends are in some secret society, named after me I might add. And you are all keeping secrets from me. Secrets that gravely affect my life.” I flattened my palm on my chest, feeling indignation mix with anger and hurt bring tears to my eyes.

“It’s named after Joy Humbolt. Last time I checked your passport reads Sydney Rye.” He smiled at me and patted the top of the wall next to him. “Sydney we want you to join us. That’s what everyone wants.”

I did not take his invitation to sit down. “The only way you’ll tell me what is going on is if I join the team?”

“Yes.”

“This is some kind of sick joke. You won’t tell me why you work at FGI, you won’t tell me why Hugh is facing murder charges.”

Mulberry held up a hand. “I don’t know why that’s happening. I don’t think Robert set Hugh up.”

“Why not?”

“He’s been watching this Joyful Justice thing as closely as anyone. Robert thought you living with Dan away from it all was great. He didn’t want you back in action. He had a pretty good guess which side you’d fall on. But he knew that the Hugh thing would bring you back so now he’s trying to seduce you into accepting his kind of power instead of asserting your own. He doesn’t want to face you. And that’s why I encouraged you to act like you were considering the idea of working for him. It was safest for you not to know. That way he figured it wasn’t happening. Robert Maxim doesn’t see the true power of your mythology.”

“You don’t think I can keep a secret?”

He caught my eyes. “You didn’t want to hear it, Sydney. Admit that at least.”

“Didn’t want to hear what you all were up to, why not?”

“Because you might have been able to stop it. And now you can’t.”

I bit my lip, squeezing the flesh hard between my teeth. “Would I have to follow orders?” I asked.