The Immaculate Deception (38 page)

“
Mr. President, there is a matter that I was handling for President Roosevelt and things have gotten…complicated… So I’m here to brief you.”

Harry Truman sat down, brushed the short hair back from his ears and adjusted his round eyeglasses. “Shoot.”

“
The young lady involved in the counterfeiting scheme is missing.”

President Truman tapped his fingers on the desk. “So?”

“
A botched arrest attempt by the Miami Beach Police ended with her assaulting the officer and fleeing with Agent Taurus.”

“
This is supposed to interest me…
because
?”

“
Okay, I’ll try again. President Roosevelt had me watching a female Secret Service agent called Chloe Lambert. She’s somehow mixed up in the counterfeiting/embezzling racket at the Bureau of Engraving and Printing. Miami Beach Police tried to arrest her today on the grounds of counterfeiting, treason and murder one.”

Suddenly interested, President Truman cocked his head and asked, “
Chloe Lambert
?”

“
That’s right.”

“
Murder one?”

Jones said, “That’s a big goof-up. They don’t even have a corpse. I’m gonna have to fly down there and…”

Truman asked, “Chloe Lambert and Mike Taurus?”

“
Yes, sir.”

“
No! My God, no! I don’t know what the hell you screw-ups are babbling about but Chloe Lambert and Mike Taurus are no criminals, much less murderers! They were my bodyguards on Make Believe Island.”

“
Make Believe Island?”

“
You get on the horn and call the Miami Police Department and the U.S. Marshals and the FBI and whoever the hell else is gunning for those two. Call it off!”

“
It’s not that easy, sir.”

President Truman stood, kicking his chair back. He stomped around the desk and glared into my man’s eyes, an inch from his face. “You do it now.”

“
Yes, sir.” My mate turned to leave.

“
Wait!”

My guy spun around.

“
What interest did Roosevelt have in the young lady?”

“
He didn’t say, sir.”

I heard the “Donna” song.

~*~

I woke up totally confused at why I had to witness that scene. Maybe to show that my mate made mistakes. He had told me he regretted letting down Chloe and failing to protect her. He’d said he’d make up for his mistake by taking care of me. He had always taken care of me so far. Been there for me. I trusted him… I loved him. I felt such sympathy for my mate. He had received a tongue-lashing from the President.

And this time, I had watched Chloe’s past without much sympathy for her. She’d admitted she didn’t care for me much. Yeah, she had her reasons, but what a horrible thing to tell a child. I didn’t want to dream about my parents’ pasts anymore. I only wanted to dream about me and Mr. Jones.

The plane landed and the pilot turned the seatbelt light off. As I took snail steps down the aisle, I wondered what I’d do now. Now that I was back in the real world to face the music.

The pilot said, “Goodbye, thanks for flying with us today.”

I nodded and smiled. As I stepped into the accordion walkway to take me into the terminal, two uniformed officers from the District of Columbia Metropolitan Police Department yanked me aside.

I didn’t resist. They ransacked my bag and cuffed my hands in front of me. The bigger of the two ushered me down with a firm grip on my biceps.

Blushing at the spectacle in front of the other passengers, I kept my head bowed. I hoped my hair hanging down hid my face from the view of the TV crew who just happened to be waiting at the gate.

They had neglected to read me my Miranda rights and inform me which crime I was suspected of committing. Hey, maybe they were in league with Dick and Fawn as well.

The cops traipsed me through the airport and out front to their waiting squad car. I was deposited in the backseat. They drove me to jail.

Jail. Yep, here I was. Forty-two-year-old good girl, Orpha Donna Payne, printed, photographed and thrown into a holding cell.

Two other females were already occupying the cozy little cubicle. The old lady smelled like vomit. The young lady slept with her head circling around on her shoulders. A bit frightening.

Chapter Sixteen

I
sat on the filthy frigid cell floor. And waited for my attorney to arrive to straighten out my calamitous predicament. I waited and waited. I was so tired of waiting. I stared at the fluorescent light. One bulb was burnt out. I started blinking. Gray sparkles. Dusty gray sparkles. Pretty gray sparkles. Music strumming in the wind. A guitar. “Killing Me Softly”. I had always loved Roberta Flack’s version of that song, a gentle ballad about a woman listening to the sweet song of a stranger who was telling her his life story with his lyrics.

~♥~

I opened my eyes. And there he was. “Hey you, step right on into my dream.”

Mr. Jones said, “Thanks, Cinderella. How was your trip?”

He walked past the other two inmates and gave me a sweet little kiss on the lips. They didn’t notice him.

“
Horrific.”

“
What happened, love?”

“
Well, apparently I ruined my mother’s life the moment I was conceived. She thought she couldn’t have kids after her ovary removal. So Mike Taurus, you remember him, right? He stopped using condoms. I was the love child that was never meant to be. She was forced to marry the evil Dr. Payne, who had done the diabolical transplant operation on her…”

I literally saw puzzle shapes floating before my eyes. “It all makes sense now. Daddy, Dr. Payne, had promised Marilyn Monroe he would find a woman to carry her baby. The baby she wanted to have with JFK. When Momma became pregnant, Dr. Payne married her but at some point found out that she hadn’t slept with the President like he had wanted her to. Not sure how he worked in that manipulation. In any event, Chloe was forced into an unhappy marriage of convenience because of me. And because I was the biological daughter of Mike Taurus, not Jack Kennedy, Dr. Payne failed at giving his beloved idol her dying wish. Marilyn hadn’t wanted a baby with a peon Secret Service agent.”

I coughed a few times and cleared the mucus from the back of my throat. “So no wonder I was treated differently than the Payne siblings. Nobody wanted me. Be careful what you wish for, you might get it and not want it.”

My soul mate through history hugged me tighter than anyone had in my whole life. He kissed the top of my head. “Two people wanted you. Love you very much.”

“
Who? Not Perry and Tammy, that’s for sure.”

“
Me and Marilyn.”

I laughed. “Yeah right.”

“
Your mother Marilyn, the former Norma Jean, loves you very much and is very proud of you. She is the one who sent me to you.”

I looked up at him, agitated. When I started to speak, he held up his hand. “Sorry, love, I can’t tell you more for the moment. You’ll find out very soon, I promise. You trusted me so far. Please trust me now.”

I wiped my eyes on his sleeve and stepped back. Looking deep into his eyes, I knew he was telling the truth. I smiled through my tears. There was nothing more that needed to be said. I sat curled in his lap for a long time. Enveloped in the peace of his love.

Finally I asked him, “Hey, why are you stepping into my world this time? I usually get transported to you. What’s up, dream weaver?”

“
Thought you’d like to break outa the hoosegow. Besides, I was in the neighborhood.”

He grabbed my hand. We walked out of the jail and into the night. Hot night. Humid mosquito night. We crossed the street. A neon sign flashed in the window of a bakery. Hot Doughnuts.

My dream weaver said, “Hungry, love?”

“
Starving.”

“
What about your no-carbohydrate diet?”

“
Do I look fat to you?”

“
You look delicious.”

“
Well then, let’s go in and lick up some hot sweet treats.”

“
Let’s.” He opened the glass door and held it for me to walk ahead of him.

I did.

“
What flavor pleases the lady?”

“
Yeast-raised chocolate-frosted.”

Mr. Jones told the baker, “A dozen for my lady.”

“
No! Just one, unless you want one.”

“
Make that two.”

He paid for the doughnuts and we strolled through the gas-lit streets of Washington. No, actually it didn’t quite look like we were still in DC.

“
Where’re we?”

“
Arlington. Newton Place. Nineteen forty-five.”

“
Oh.”

He turned down an alleyway. We passed a greenhouse in the backyard of a duplex. The same one that I had seen in that dream of Dick Fiddler’s that I had interrupted.

Creeping up on the back porch, we peeked into the windows. A young woman sat at a table, smoking a cigarette.

“
Who’s that?” I asked him.

“
Shirley.”

“
Officer Dick Fiddler’s mother.”

I felt the neurons firing in my brain. “Wimpledink used her to make money drops. She was also convicted in the counterfeiting case.”

He nodded. I followed him around to the front of the house. We peeked into a big bay window. More like into a jungle. It was hard to see around all the exotic houseplants.

I made out the image of a scrawny man, he appeared to be harvesting parts of a plant and putting them through a grinder. I whispered, “That’s Wimpledink, right? What’s he doin’, makin’ his own flour?”

“
Secret ingredient for flour. He’s puttin’ corn cockle seeds and ground-up castor beans in it. The girl’ll bake it up.”

My neurons fired up again. I was on a roll. “Myron Wimpledink, Personnel Director at the Bureau of Engraving and Printing. Hey, I know all this stuff. What’s the purpose of this trip?”

“
Do you now?”

“
Yep. They were both put in jail for counterfeiting and he for murder. Don’t remember who he did in. Gee, he’s an awful wussy-lookin’ guy to be a murderer. Hey, I know, you are bringing me here to show me who Officer Dick’s parents are, right? Eww, we don’t have to watch the conception, do we?”

“
Not if you don’t want to, love. Come along.”

We hopped a streetcar and rode into Washington. Jumped off within walking distance of the White House.

“
Oh boy, another party
?
” I asked.

“
Not tonight.”

We stopped near a limestone post at the northeast appointment gate of the White House. Mr. Jones said, “Shh…” He looked into my eyes and said, “Remember, love, I’m your mate. I’m taking you from Mercury to Mars. But things have to get much worse before they get better. You have to make part of the journey by yourself. I know you are strong enough.”

He kissed me. Gently at first. Then his tongue parted my lips and hungrily penetrated my soul. I went weak at the knees. He shoved away and I fell to the ground. In a flurry of scarlet sparkles, he was gone.

I felt the damp earth beneath my legs. I rose and rubbed my eyes in astonishment as I noticed the man at the guard kiosk. I listened in.

“
I’ve got a couple of minutes before my shift. Is the President still up?”

“
Lights are on in the Oval Office.”

“
Fine, I’ll be back in five.”

“
Sure, Jones.”

My Mr. Jones had left me because he had work to do. Must be really important to the history of the world, I imagined. But his last words scared me. How could things get worse than they already were? I walked right behind him. The guard didn’t stop me. Good, I must still be invisible.

~♥~

My dream boy knocked on the door to the President’s suite.

“
Who’s there?” President Truman barked.

“
Agent Jones.”

“
Come in.”

We did.

Truman hung up the telephone. “Sit down, son.”

My guy did as told.

“
Listen, I want to apologize for how I lit into you earlier today. This damn war has me on edge.”

“
The weight of the world was suddenly dumped on you. I understand. Here, would you care to share a few burgers?” Dream boy spilled the contents of a paper sack onto the President’s desk.

Oh I wanted one.

Harry Truman smiled. “Gee, that’s mighty hospitable of you, Agent…”

Wow, my guy brought burgers to the President.

“
Jones, sir. Help yourself.”

“
Would you like some mud to wash ’em down with?”

My mate smiled and nodded as President Truman walked over to a sideboard and poured two cups of coffee from a stainless steel thermos. The President handed a white mug to him and then sat down in his own chair.

“
So tell me, Jones, whereabouts are you from originally?” President Truman heartily ate a hamburger. So did my mate.