Second You Sin (39 page)

“Sit down,” Jason ordered, and Locke obeyed. “I figured it was worth a couple of hundred bucks to get a professional to do the job. It wasn’t like the cash was coming from my pocket, after al . We had plenty of money pouring into the ministry.

“I told Locke the boys were fans, or volunteers, whatever, and arranged the meetings. Every couple of months was enough to keep the old man satisfied.

The rumors about Locke died down and I counted on the fact that confidentiality was one of the perks of hiring pros.

“But after we came to New York, and I’d gone through a few boys for Locke, one of them approached me at the office. The one you cal ed Sammy, I think. The kid was no dummy. He’d seen Locke’s commercials and thought this could be his big pay-day. He told me he had pictures of his assignation with Locke, and that he’d take them to the press if we didn’t pay him one hundred thousand dol ars.”

“So, you kil ed him, too,” I said.

“See, I knew you were a bright boy,” Jason said.

“But you realized,” I continued, “that the other boys were potential problems, too.”

“Exactly right. And that was part of my job.

Cleaning up after Locke’s messes.”

Locke looked like he was going to toss his cookies again. My own stomach was queasy enough with fear that I real y hoped he wouldn’t.

“You kil ed them?” Locke asked, his voice quivering. “You kil ed them al ?”

Jason cocked his head to the side and gave Locke the sideways grin that seemed so charming to me only hours before. Now, it was chil ing.

“Just looking out for you, sir.”

“Bastard!” Locke screamed. With a speed that surprised me, Locke leapt from his chair, grabbing the letter opener as he charged toward Jason. “Not in my name!”

Casual y, as if using bug spray on a fly, Jason leveled his pistol at Locke and shot him. Locke crumpled to the floor, blood pooling around him.

“Oh my God!” I screamed, feeling myself becoming hysterical. “You kil ed him!”

“That? Please. I shot him in the shoulder. I’m surprised he even passed out, but given what a wimp he is, I guess I shouldn’t be. No, as soon as I wrap things up with you, I’l cal an ambulance, and he’l be good as new.”

“How can you do that?” I asked. I was trying to get him off balance, force him to make a mistake. Up til now, he’d been unflappably cool and levelheaded.

As I was a nervous wreck, Jason’s calm put me at a distinct disadvantage. I needed him distracted.

“Won’t he turn you in to the police the moment he can?” I asked.

“And say what?” Jason asked me derisively. “Tel them that I’ve been kil ing the man-whores he’s been fucking? Throw away his entire career, his reputation, just to avenge some street trash he never even thought of again once he was done with them? I don’t think so, Kevin. Locke owes me everything. I’ve been manipulating him behind the scenes for years now.

“The only thing that’s going to change is that I’l be able to be more open with him about who’s in charge here. It should actual y make things easier for me.

“Too bad for you, though. We’re going to need someone to blame for the shooting, you know.” He looked at me dismissively. “I guess that’s where you come in.”

42

I Can Do It

“You’re going to try and pin this on me?” I asked.

“Sorry,” Jason said. “I real y did like you. Of course, I thought you’d be useful, too. A pretty young thing like you. It was clear you worshipped Locke.

Plus, you were obviously a homosexual.” Not that it was an insult to be cal ed gay, but I thought I’d played it pretty straight. “Real y?”

“Wel , duh,” Jason answered. “To be fair, I’m kind of an expert at reading people. I hoped that by putting you in front of Locke, giving you some time alone with him, you would be the perfect solution to my problem.

“You know, you’re the real reason Locke didn’t fly to DC today. I told him about you and he canceled his plans, just to meet the cute little piece of ass who’d wandered in off the street. What an idiot he is.

“Not that I minded. My hope was that Locke would be attracted to you and want to keep you around. Not only would that make it easier for me—no more trol ing for hustlers, thank you very much—but I’d have you around to help
me
out, too. You real y are a bright kid, Kevin. It could have been a win-win for everyone.

“When I walked in just now with you kneeling between Locke’s legs, wel , I thought it al worked out just right. Talk about a perfect plan! Then you had to start screaming about murder and blow the whole thing. Or, blow the
wrong
thing, I suppose.” He laughed at his own joke.

“Sorry to let you down,” I mumbled.

Jason shrugged as if he was dismissing a petty annoyance. “It was pretty disappointing, I can tel you that.”

“You had it al worked out,” I said. I was stil on the floor, Jason stil had the gun. I figured my best bet was to keep him talking until . . . wel , I real y didn’t have much of a plan after that.

“I told you, Kevin, that’s my job. Making sure things work out.”

“But al those kil ings, Jason? You were a theology major. You started working for Locke because you believed in his message of peace. How could you betray al that?”

Jason threw his head back and laughed. “You believed al that shit? So did Locke. There is no

‘Jason Carter.’ I made him up. The school records, the family, the work history. Al invented. I saw an opportunity with Locke and I went for it. I said whatever I needed to say to make Locke like me. To make him trust me.”

“What about your wife and children?” I asked him.

“What wife and children?” he asked.

“The picture on your desk.”

Jason laughed again. “Everyone fal s for that one.

That’s the picture that came with the frame, Kevin.”
When am I going to learn to trust my instincts?

“Even the name. Jason Carter. It’s one of the first rules of the long con—use a name your target wil relate to. He’s Jacob, I went with Jason. I knew a narcissist like him would go for that one.”

“You’re good,” I admitted.

“The best.”

“Why’d you wear the eye patch?” I had to confirm it was him at the hospital.

“Why do you think?”

“A distraction?”

He touched a finger to his nose. “Bingo. You want to guess why I picked the last name?”

I thought about it for moment. “The initials.” Jason’s smile was genuine. “You
are
smart. Those Biblethumpers al love them some J. C.” It was kind of ironic. I had social engineered my way into Locke’s life, and so had Jason.

I remembered what it was like when I was Kevin Johnson. The approval and access were seductive.

My double identity was a heady, powerful secret to keep.

At the same time, though, it was a lonely place to be. People liked me, but not the
real
me. If they knew who I real y was, they’d never accept me.

And everyone wants to be accepted for who they real y are.

They need it.

When I was in school, I was a psychology major. In my first course, we studied the work of Abraham Maslow, whose hierarchy of needs is one of the most widely accepted tenets of modern psychology.

Maslow proposed that al human beings have the same basic needs, which he placed in a pyramid with five levels. At the bottom are the physiological needs, like food and shelter. As you work your way up, though, the needs become more psychosocial, until you reach the top. There, you find the needs to be accepted, to be valued, to be appreciated.

Without having those needs met, you can never be fulfil ed.

Every week, men paid me thousands of dol ars to be with me. If al they wanted was an orgasm, they could jerk off and save a lot of money.

What were those men seeking if not a person with whom they could feel accepted? Maybe even loved.

For who they real y were.

Even if they wanted to dress like a clown or play with feet or put me to sleep with a china cup. They al wanted to be loved.

Earlier, when I was trying to gain the upper hand with Locke, I thought that al I knew how to do was seduce men.

I sold myself short.

What I did, what I was
good
at, was understanding what a man needs and giving it to him. Sex was only a tool I used to make him feel, even if just for a moment, even if it was paid for, what he needed to feel.

Jason had been living a lie for many years, now.

I had a sense I knew what he needed.

Was I right?

I’d better be.

I was about to bet my life on it.

I looked Jason in the eye and started to stand up.

He frowned. “Now, now, Kevin. Don’t get up. I like it just fine where you are.”

Betting that my hunch was right, I continued to stand. But as I did, I began to applaud. Jason looked confused. I was about five feet away from him.

“Sorry, buddy,” I said, casual y, as if we were stil the best of friends, “but you deserve a standing ovation.” I clapped enthusiastical y. “I thought
I
was good! But that shit you’ve been pul ing makes me look like an amateur.”

Jason looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“What’s my name?”

“Look, I don’t see the point of . . .”

“Please,” I said. “This might be the last conversation I ever have, so cut me a little slack, OK? What’s my name?”

“Your name,” he said with irritation, as if indulging a particularly annoying toddler, “is Kevin.”

“No, my ful name.”

“Kevin . . .” Jason’s eyes veered to the left as he accessed his memory banks. “Kevin Johnson.”

“Kevin Johnson,” I repeated. I held my hand out to him. “I’m going to reach for my wal et, OK. I want to show you something.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed and he tightened his grip on his pistol. I took out my wal et, opened it to my driver’s license, and handed it to him.

“
Kevin Connor?
” Jason asked. “I don’t get it.”

“Dude,” I said, trying to sound casual, as if we were two friends about to share in a particularly funny joke, “Kevin Johnson doesn’t exist. I made him up.”

“What? But I saw the Facebook page, the article in the paper you wrote.”

I wiggled my fingers in the air like a magician about to pul a rabbit out of a hat. “Abracadabra,” I said. “I’m a bit of an Internet wizard.” I didn’t mean to claim credit for my friend Marc’s work, but if things didn’t work out for me here, I didn’t want to send Jason after him, either.

“But why?” Jason asked.

“Same reason as you, man. I smel ed opportunity the minute I saw Locke on TV. I heard rumors about him, too. Including some that linked him to one of the boys who’d been kil ed. I figured I’d sneak my way in here, gather some evidence, and then blackmail him. Same as Sammy.

“But after I spent some time here, working with you, I thought, ‘Why settle for a few thousand dol ars?

Why not go after Locke for real, set myself up as his permanent boy?’

“The crazy thing is, Jason, I changed my mind because of
you.
I’ve real y enjoyed working with you these past few days. You’re super cool, you’re smart, and I could see you’re going places. Places I want to go, too.

“So, I was playing Locke, too. The only part I didn’t like was having to lie to you, to keep up the false face.

“But now that I know about you, wel , it’s even better. Dude, you are my hero! I want to be your Padawan! You don’t need me as another dead body on your hands. You need me as your partner!” Jason looked skeptical. But, for the first time, he dropped the hand he held his gun in to his side. I could see he was conflicted. Should he believe me, or not?

I had two chances here. The first, best outcome would be that Jason bought my act long enough for me to escape and run to the police. The second, riskier move was for me to at least get close enough

to him to try and knock the gun out of his hand. Then, it might be a fair fight.

I planned on working both options. I took a step toward him and continued to play Eve Harrington to his Margo Channing. “What a team we’d be! You’l create great plans, and I’l make them great!” Jason looked at Locke lying across the desk, then back at me. “I’ve been doing pretty wel on my own, Kevin Connor Johnson. Why would I need you?”

“Because you can’t keep hiring boys and kil ing them forever, Jason. Eventual y, you’re going to get caught. But keep me around, and I’l make sure that Locke is satisfied on that front.” I slapped my ass.

“Or satisfied in the back. It’s al good to me.” I grinned like we were two naughty schoolboys planning a prank on the teacher.