Jack Kursed (15 page)

Jack sat at the deck table and allowed
himself a smile. Phase one of his little scheme was complete. But
there was still one final problem to deal with. Andrea Simmons
herself. That would have to wait until sunrise.

He quietly crept into the
house. Tiffany still slept on the couch, her rhythmic breathing
filling the living room. He wanted to watch TV, but that was
obviously out of the question. He couldn’t listen to music. His
mind raced for something to do to kill a few hours.

That’s all his life seemed
to be at times. Searching for ways to kill time.

He paced in the kitchen.
All he wanted to do was sit on his couch, but that wasn’t possible
due to the living human resting there. He couldn’t even turn on a
light. If he kicked the girl out, or killed her, that would solve
his problems. He shook his head. Killing her would be wrong
somehow, and he didn’t just go through hours of trouble to save
her, just to kill her.

Tears ran down his face,
although he didn’t make a sound. He knew what was happening. Every
few decades he simply broke down. He wanted to rest, to sleep. That
was impossible.

"Just an hour," he whispered. "A half
hour. Ten minutes."

He wiped the tears from
his face, but they kept coming, and that only infuriated him more.
He clenched and opened his fists as he paced. There were so many
things in the world he could do, and at that moment, he could do
none of them.

"Jack?"

He stopped and stared at
the couch. Tiffany’s silhouette looked over the top of the
cushions. She rubbed sleep out of her eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice
full of genuine concern.

"I just want to sleep."

"Have you taken NyQuil?"

Jack laughed as he wiped his eyes once
again.

"I’ve taken pretty much
everything, I think."

"Sara told me warm milk would make you
sleepy."

"I’ve tried warm milk.
I’ve tried chocolate milk. Milk laced with LSD, heroin, cocaine,
rat poison. Nothing works."

"What’s LSD?"

"Nevermind."

"Can we have some cereal?"

He sighed as he turned on
the kitchen light. How long would it be before Tiffany drove him
even crazier than he already was?

"Sure, whatever."

Jack took a step toward
the refrigerator, but Tiffany was already moving. She climbed off
the couch and dragged a stool to the counter. She went through each
cabinet, one by one, moving the stool as she went. The child didn't
ask for help of any kind. Jack watched in fascination. An excited
cry left her lips as she found the prize.

"Cookie Crisp! I love Cookie
Crisp."

He smiled and nodded. "The
breakfast of champions when I don't feel like slaving it over the
stove."

She continued searching
through cabinets until she found bowls. He raised an eyebrow as she
grabbed not one, but two of them. She retrieved the milk on her own
and grabbed two spoons from the drawer next to the sink.

It took nearly ten minutes longer than
it should have, but Jack stared at a bowl of cereal waiting at the
bar for him. Tiffany sat and eagerly filled her spoon, pausing for
a moment to look up at him.

"Are you going to eat your
cereal?"

He laughed and shook his head as he
sat across from her. It had been centuries since someone made
breakfast for him, and that was his mother.

"You're alright, Tiffany."

She beamed at him, showing off a
missing tooth.

"Today is gonna be a busy
day," he said. "Are you up for it?"

She nodded eagerly. "What are we gonna
be doing?"

He smiled. "Just some subtle
things."

*****

Jack drove deeper into
Parkville and parked in front of the pool hall his contact told him
about. The windows were down, the sunroof open, and Tiffany looked
like she was having the time of her life. The girl giggled with
every bump they hit, her tiny body lifting from the
seat.

They definitely weren't in
the best of neighborhoods. A few teens, who no doubt should have
been in school, were laughing and talking on the street corner. A
woman stood at a bus stop across the street, looking for someone to
hire her.

"We're going to play
pool?" Tiffany shouted. "Neat."

"No, we're not."

"Then why did we come
here?"

He said nothing. A sudden
guilt crept over him at the thought of bringing Tiffany along.
There wasn't much choice. He didn't know of anyone that could
babysit, and Victoria wasn't answering her phone. He had a large
number of personal assistants, but they all lived in other
states.

Jack looked down at his young guest.
She looked up at him, giving him her undivided
attention.

"I'm not gonna bore you
with details," he said. "But this is all part of getting Miss
Simmons to let you stay with me."

She crossed her arms. "I hate Miss
Simmons. She's gonna be real mad when she sees I ran away
again."

"Exactly, which is why we need to
hurry. You stay right at my side, okay?"

She nodded eagerly. He
reached for his briefcase in between them, a constant in the many
illegal dealings he conducted over the years.

"Can I carry it? I want to
help."

He smiled. The kid had a
talent for making him smile. She had more spark than any other
human he met in his life, and he met a lot.

They pushed the door open
to the pool hall. There weren't many people at eight o'clock in the
morning, but the few who were there all turned their gaze on Jack
and Tiffany. It was a rough-looking crowd. Tiffany carried his
briefcase with both hands as they walked in between the pool
tables.

He spotted the man he was
looking for in the back. Jerry Turnbull. Not exactly a tough,
mafia-type name, but Jack didn't care about his name. Jerry was a
little older than the picture Jack received in an email, but it was
him. Maybe close to fifty and slowly losing his hair. The man
leaned on a pool cue while talking to someone who could only be a
henchman, judging from the size of the guy. A beautiful blonde
woman played pool by herself. She made sure she leaned over the
table at all the right angles for Jerry's viewing pleasure, smiling
over her shoulder at him before each shot.

If this was how the place was in the
morning, Jack was curious as to how it was at night.

The henchman stepped
forward to intercept Jack, putting a hand on his
shoulder.

"Whoa there, buddy. Do you have an
appointment?"

"No. But Jerry will want to talk to
me," Jack said, gesturing to his briefcase.

The henchman quickly
patted Jack down, and then moved over to Tiffany. It was Jack’s
turn to forcefully grab a shoulder.

"No one touches my
assistant."

The henchman scowled, but Jerry only
laughed. He motioned to let them by.

"I have to say,
your
assistant
is
probably a little too young to work for me," Jerry said with a
thick accent.

"Funny," Jack said. He took the
briefcase from Tiffany and looked at the henchman. "You know, I bet
my friend here could beat you at pool."

"We can play pool?" Tiffany
asked.

The henchman looked at
Jerry, who was very amused. Jack knelt down so he could look into
Tiffany’s eyes.

"Okay, partner, go play
some pool with the gorilla-looking guy and the pretty lady over
there. I won’t be long."

"Alright," she said, and
then looked up at the henchman. "I’m gonna beat you."

Jack waited until they were at the
pool table before turning to Jerry.

"I understand you’re the
person to see if I need help."

Jerry shook his head. "I
don’t loan out money anymore. But I got the feeling you don’t need
money."

"No. But I would like to give you
money." He cracked open his briefcase and pulled out ten thousand
dollars.

Jerry stared at the cash as Jack set
it on the small table next to them.

"Do I have your attention?" Jack
asked.

Jerry smirked and nodded.
"I have to ask, what’s to stop me from taking your little magic
briefcase there."

"Probably my temper."

The small-time criminal
laughed heartily and slapped Jack on the shoulder. That was the
second time he’d been touched, and his patience was wearing
thin.

"You’re a funny guy. Tell
me, what did you have in mind?"

"Sort of the opposite of
burglary."

Jack checked on Tiffany as
Jerry leaned closer. She was enjoying her game of pool. Jerry’s eye
candy picked the girl up so she could wildly swing her cue over the
table. She was excited just to hit a ball, much less sink one. The
henchman and eye candy laughed at the girl’s behavior, and the
henchman even missed on purpose so Tiffany could keep
playing.

Jack filled Jerry in on what services
he wanted to purchase.

*****

Jack slowed the
truck and parked across the street from Andrea
Simmons
’ house. Everything looked normal
enough. There were no police on her front lawn. Simmons wasn’t
standing on the front porch shouting for Tiffany to come home. He
hoped she didn’t realize Tiffany was even missing. The thought
crossed his mind that it was possible she knew Tiffany was gone,
and didn’t care.

Tiffany drank an orange
juice they’d bought ten minutes ago at his convenience store. She
made fast friends with Mr. Soon and his wife. She made fast friends
with everyone.

"How are you holding up?" he
asked.

"I’m fine. I won at
pool."

"I saw that. Very
impressive. Hopefully we won’t be here too long. Then we’ll get you
some clothes, maybe a bed."

Tiffany sat up and stared out the
windshield. Her face took on a look of panic when she realized
where they were.

"You...brought me back to Miss
Simmons."

She undid her seat-belt and grabbed
the door handle. Jack reached across the seat and snatched her
wrist before she could open the door.

"Calm the hell down."

She breathed hard and
shook. Tears ran down her cheeks. She hugged her knees to her chest
and rocked back and forth.

"You lied to me," she said. "You said
I could stay with you."

"I didn't lie to you, kid. But don't
piss me off, or I'll change my mind. I'm not giving you back to
Miss Simmons."

"Then why are we here?"

"Do you really want to
know? Can you handle it?"

She nodded as that familiar fire
returned to her cheeks.

"I said my name is
Tiffany. Not
kid
."

"Okay. Miss Simmons is no longer your
foster-parent. I am."

Tiffany showed off every
tooth she had as she reached out for a hug. Jack scooted away,
closer to the driver's door, and scrunched his face.

"And the contract didn't
include hugs, if I remember right," he said. She frowned and leaned
away. "Now, I might be your foster-parent, but we still have Miss
Simmons to deal with. She'll throw a fit with the police, and who
knows what else. So we have to give her bigger problems to worry
about. I wanted to kill her, but this might actually be
better."

"Killing people is bad."

"Yeah, I keep hearing
that," Jack said. He noticed someone walking up her sidewalk to
Simmons' front door. "Ah. Right on time."

Jack watched the scene
unfold before him. Tiffany hid behind him, peeking out from behind
his shoulder. He didn't think much of Jerry, even with his
contact's recommendation. Jerry seemed like more of a gang leader
than any type of underworld figure with real power. His suspicions
rang even more true when the man nearly salivated at the sight of
fifty thousand dollars. But if he could do what Jack wanted, he
could forgive his pool hall headquarters and ridiculous fake
accent.

The man at the front door
distracted Simmons while two more moved around back. Jack didn't
know how they would deal with the children, and didn't really care.
As long as they planted drugs all over the house, nothing else
mattered.

The distraction went smoothly. Jack
couldn't read their lips, as he couldn't get a clear view of them.
He rolled down the window to hear a little of their
conversation.

"I'm telling you, lady.
Your dog bit my son. I'm gonna sue you."

"You idiot. I don't even have a
dog."

"I saw it run out of your house and go
after my kid. Maybe you weren't home, I don't know. But don't think
you're getting away with this."

This went on for several
minutes until Jack saw the accomplices run from the backyard.
Simmons ended up slamming the door and disappearing into her house.
Jack placed the anonymous call to the police he planned in his
head. He jazzed it up as best he could. Child abuse, drugs in the
house, wild orgies with random men.