Violets & Violence (21 page)

“No, I didn’t, but I haven’t heard from you in days, Violet. I didn’t want to have coffee with the first woman that broke my heart. So I’m standing in front of the second woman…” I didn’t finish, puffed out my chest.

She turned around, her arms crossed over her chest, her legs shoulder-length apart. This was her body language for
confrontational
, but I found her incredibly attractive at the same time. I wanted her, but I also knew I should steer clear. She was dangerous, she had dangerous liaisons with Luke. Bill had told me that just today. And she could ruin more than just my heart—
that
much I had figured out all by myself.

“What’re you doing here, Violet?” I took a step toward her but steered into the kitchen instead. I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, waved one at her as an offering, but she shook her head and declined.

“I wanted to see you. No, I
needed
to see you. I miss you more and more, Carter.” Her forehead rippled like a loose rug, and she seemed a little shaken by what she had just admitted. “You’ve changed me. I don’t understand it.”

An involuntary chuckle erupted past my lips, but I suppressed it before it became insulting. “Why?” I asked her. “What is so important about seeing me?”

She didn’t like that. Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe I like you.” Letting her hands drop to her sides, she strode toward me, her face hardening with each step. “What’s going on here, Carter? This isn’t like you. You’ve become my happy, my reason for smiling and believing…in magic. But not today.”

Once she was close enough, she took my hands with hers and kissed the backs of them. This version of Violet knew all the right things to do. And say. Yes, she obviously knew the right script to follow; it had earned her hundreds of thousands, if not millions, in so-called “investments” into her magic show.

“Tell me what’s on your mind or I’ll…” She glanced up at the ceiling, which wasn’t all that impressive – exposed pipe and steel casing for the wires – and then settled on, “I’ll lick your face.”

I laughed, softening, and she noticed that. “Really? Lick me?”

She pushed her tongue out, giving me a glance. “Don’t push me.”

I laughed harder.

Seizing the opportunity now that my guard had been lowered, Violet swooped in for a kiss, moving her hands to my face and holding my lips to hers. Once she drew back, I saw the dreamy laziness in her warm, hazel eyes. Her reaction had become familiar and comforting, each time we kissed with this kind of passion and depth. It distracted me from everything I had learned about her – the
cold
version of her – and the little details people had told me about her business partner, assuming that was all they really were.

“Tell me,” she begged. “Please, or I’ll go. I don’t want to go, but I won’t stay if I’m not wanted. Or if you’re pushing me away like this. I won’t.”

Have you forgotten how you rejected me in the hallway half a minute ago?

At last, I nodded. “Okay.” I tugged her into the living area, sat her at one of the sofas next to me.

“Uh-oh.” She faked a chuckle, but when my eyes met hers, I saw the pain. Her anxiety seemed genuine, too. And it struck me that maybe I had been wrong about Violet. Maybe she really did care about me. Maybe she truly was falling for me like she claimed to be.

But why
me
? Of all of the people she could’ve pulled from that audience, all the guys she could have had falling out of the sky with her magical talent, why the guy who deals with ultra-high net worth individuals?

I massaged the side of my head, thinking things through before taking a deep breath and coming straight out and asking her my question in a way that would not destroy our relationship. The question dropped out of my mouth in a chain of words that probably didn’t make much sense to her.

“Violet, why did you pick me, and how come three people I’ve met over the past few weeks have told me that you, or Luke, or both, have taken over one hundred thousand dollars from each of them to move your show from Buffalo to Detroit, and they all had warnings for me. Well, all except Ted who hasn’t said anything because it’s none of my business, but I know what you’re doing and everyone seems to say the same thing.” The end.

Violet’s eyes jumped from one side of my face to the other. Color had risen onto her cheeks, and after a momentary pause, she drew her hands back from mine. I watched her swallow, take a few difficult breaths, and then open her mouth only to shut it again and reconsider whatever it was she had come close to saying.

“Say something,” I said, my voice trembling.

“You think I’m using you.” Her voice was soft but hurt. “You think…” She frowned and shook her head. “What does everyone say? What’s the message they all seem to be telling you about me, Carter?”

Gulp.

“I’m going to go out on a ledge, Carter. And I’m going to guess. They’ve said that the money Luke raises for the show gets spent on lifestyle expenses.” She shook her head. “That’s not the case. The money is payable to our lawyer’s trust account. Her name is Janelle Emerson, she’s based in New York City. You can look her up, she’s quite prolific.”

“Prolific when it comes to helping magicians?” I asked, watching her closely for some kind of reaction.

I knew how lawyers in bigger cities worked—they had specialties, and they were usually Family Law, Criminal Law or Real Estate Law. Of course, there were the corporate lawyers and personal injury lawyers, but they typically worked in larger, national firms. None of the lawyers I knew—and I had a couple of them as clients, the smarter ones—specialized in “Magician Law.”

“That money is for the show.” She sighed. “The money we earn on the show…It’s no secret we’re not making seven figures a year. If we’re lucky, we’ll see twenty thousand after a full month’s engagement, even when we charge what we do. So what we do earn, we invest.”

I remembered my introduction to James, his insistence that I meet Luke and tell him all about how I use derivatives for my clients to enhance returns and protect them against market corrections.

“We invest using proprietary software,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Okay? It’s what I was telling you the other night, the one about buying
time
,” she went on, bringing up the conversation in a way that suggested it should all make sense to me now.

It didn’t.

Violet glanced down into her lap. “When I was younger, I facilitated that robbery. We stole computer code, script written by a genius Russian software programmer. He worked for an investment bank, and that bank realized that you can capitalize on price differences from one market to another –
if
you’re fast enough. That software makes us more than fast enough.” She shook her head, still looking down. Like she was ashamed of her involvement. “We’re not talking about small profits, either. There’s been plenty of research conducted about how valuable a nanosecond is when it comes to the stock market. And that’s what we owned, those fractions of nanoseconds. So you can imagine that if you invested fifty thousand at the start of the market, how much you would walk away with at the closing bell. Just trading on
time
, Carter.”

Her eyes rose to mine, and I saw just how timid this powerful woman truly was. Violet had entertained, controlled and manipulated thousands of people during the course of her magic show. Yet here, in my living room, with her hands on her knees while she sat on my sofa, she looked tiny and afraid.

“The lifestyle you see, it’s funded by those investments in time. And it’s a lifestyle that belongs to Luke,” she confessed. “And…” She shook her head. “It’s not my lifestyle, Carter. I promise you, I’m not impressed by overpriced cars, big homes with fancy kitchens – although mine is pretty awesome, I’ll admit it.” She chuckled. “I’m impressed by what people say and
do
. From the moment I met you on my stage, I was impressed. I needed you to
do
, and you did. You weren’t some smartass player or semi-erect arrogant jackass. You engaged me, you listened to me, you played along with my banter, your eyes were so incredibly big after every trick. You not only inspired me, but allowed me to be the entertainer I’ve always wanted to be. Since you, my show has…I don’t know how else to say this, but it’s come
alive
.” Her eyes were wide again, glistening with the excitement of her words. “And so have I. I’ve come alive, just from spending a bit of time with you. I mean, if you’d seen me a year ago, I guarantee you that you would not recognize me. Not by looks, not by my personality.”

I reached out and touched the side of her face, massaging her jaw with my thumb so that she would meet my stare. And once she did, I told her, “Dangerous.”

She frowned.

“That’s what everyone else tells me. That you and Luke are dangerous. And I should be cautious of you.”

Violet blinked, hard.

“Who is James?” I asked, still needing to know. “How does he know so much about you? And how did he disappear that night when I was sitting next to him? You switched at the intermission, didn’t you?”

She frowned. “James is a big supporter. He’s got a lot invested in the show, and he helps us with the audience. He’s close with Luke and doesn’t want to see me distracted because if I’m distracted, I might leave, and, if I leave, the show falls apart. And if the show falls apart, James loses money. And after what I’ve done to him, the least I can do is return his investment with an appropriate gain.”

“It’s
your
show,” I argued. “You hold the power here. You can walk away and start up with a new engineer, manager, you name it.”

“No,” she answered sadly. “I don’t have any power.”

“It’s all you, Violet.” She had to know the show would be nothing without her.

She stood up, shaking her head.

“Without you,” I elaborated, “James loses his money and Luke loses his job. It’s absolutely
all you
!”

“No,” she said, her voice cracking as she backed away from me, heading to the door. “I’m just one component, Carter. One of three.”

Three?

I felt relief exhale from my body and mind. It was the kind of relief that said,
of course.

She opened the door, but didn’t leave right away. “It’s me, Luke, and my sister.”

Sister?

“I’m sorry, Carter, I’m sorry I kept all of this from you,” she said. “And as for James, Luke and my sister really wanted us to have a relationship. I tried, I tried really hard, but after meeting you, it was time I start looking out for my own interests. So I told James about you and the relationship that Luke and my sister wanted me to have with him was over.”

My jaw dropped open, I had a million questions pushing toward the surface, but they lodged in my throat and nothing came out. And by the time I could even speak, Violet had bolted into the hall and was gone.

Traffic around the McNamara terminal at Detroit Metro Airport was fierce. It seemed like six in the morning on a Thursday was prime time for international flights out of the Motor City, and everyone was running behind.

“I’m parking it,” I said, steering the Range Rover into the lane for the parking garage.

Violet groaned. And it had nothing to do with the ten dollars it would cost; she just didn’t want to get out of the warm cabin this early in the morning. Money was never an issue with her, which was why I hadn’t bothered telling her about the two million that had come out of the business account to get Henry Rinker off our backs.

“I’d like to hold you before I go,” I explained.

She rolled her eyes, but I caught the shadows of a smile tickling the edges of her mouth. “She really likes him,” was what she said, changing the topic.

I glanced at her. “It’s serious, is it?”

“While we were in New York the last time, she saw him again. I don’t know what it is about him.”

I shrugged. “Then maybe we bring him in. Swear him to secrecy, scare him, whatever it takes. He deals with people’s wealth, he’s probably good at keeping a secret or two.”

“No,” Violet said. “I don’t trust him. He’s unworthy.”

“Despite acting like a spoiled brat, Edie’s been good to us. Has been from the start.” I found a parking space in the corner, looking out over the street and an inactive runway. I killed the lights but left the engine running for heat and music. Reaching across the console, I took her face in my hands. She looked so much like her younger sister, like Edie. But Violet was the one that loved me. Unconditionally. Absolutely. Completely.

“Stop it,” she hissed. “You’re acting like an asshole.”

I stared back, ignoring her insults, and then leaned forward and kissed her hard on the lips. She opened her mouth and let me taste her. When I withdrew, I noticed that she had closed her eyes and lost herself in that kiss, and it made me feel happy. At peace.
Was this how Carter felt when he kissed Violet,
his
Violet? Edie?

“I love you, Violet,” I said.

“Why do you do this?” she asked, reaching across the dashboard and stabbing her finger into the engine’s stop button.

“Do what?” I asked.

She was already jumping out of the Range Rover and into the cold.

“Shit,” I cursed, hopping out of the driver’s seat and grabbing my carry on from the rear seat. I had to hurry to catch her.

“What about James?” she asked.

“It didn’t work out,” I answered, sliding my hand into hers. “It happens. Not everyone falls in love at first sight like we did.” I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll pay him once I’m back, the show’s coming to an end anyway.”

We entered the McNamara terminal to the early morning chaos of consumer air travel and headed to the British Airways check-in kiosk. I stopped before entering the line.

“This is it,” I said. “You know I hate goodbyes.”

“Then don’t go,” she replied with a grin because she knew the impossibility of what she asked. After a mild silence, she nodded down the line. “Go check in. I’ll walk you to the TSA checkpoint.”

I nodded like the obedient dog that I was, walked through the line with my papers and passport in hand. There was a wait. Once I received my boarding pass, I joined Violet for the stroll to the TSA line. I had a little more than an hour to reach my gate, so I was in no real rush.

“I really don’t want to leave,” I confessed, falling into her arms and pressing my forehead to the side of hers. “I miss you, babe. I miss us.”

She chuckled, and I felt her hand slide between my legs, grab my balls and squeeze lightly. Because of the way my jacket hung so close to my knees, nobody would’ve seen her crude gesture in the middle of this otherwise busy airport, and it was that kind of magic that really turned me on about her.

“Four more of these trips,” I said. Like it mattered. I would never see the love of my life again; I just didn’t know it yet.

“Goodbye, Luke,” she replied with a smile and a wink. The hand gripping my balls came up and slapped my cheek playfully—twice, two easy taps. She walked away, like she could hear the clock ticking on the parking meter.

“Love you, too,” I replied, but all she did was send an absent wave back at me.

The lecture hall at the University of West London in Slough accommodated the two hundred and seventy-six novice magicians and “technicians.” They had all come to learn from me, just like they had every three weeks (except the week I had missed while in captivity) for the past six months. With Violet’s show gaining momentum and attention, I had become something of a celebrity in the industry and had taken on this opportunity as a way to generate some international attention for Violet, as well as to make inroads into the education industry.

“Remember, magic is a lot like life—it happens in the seams between one moment to the next,” I told them, noticing that we had surpassed the three-hour lecture time. Some of these students had other classes to attend.

I closed my book, signaling the end of the class. The students started packing their bags.

“The final exam in three weeks will have a heavy emphasis on the transparency of the trick,” I explained as a final reminder. “Again, huge kudos to Jeremy and his team for their new twist on the cutting-the-woman-in-half trick, and congratulations to Helen for taking this week’s prize with her levitation illusion. Remember, next week’s performances will be here in the lecture hall.” I rhymed off a few more reminders, using my fingers to keep track while the students finished packing their computers and books. “No trap door, no special lighting except for what we have here, and no outside equipment. We want to emulate a live, public scenario. And I can’t say this enough: transparency of the trick is what counts.”

As the last of the students left, I packed my own things and exited via the ground floor doorway. I checked my phone and saw three missed called and two text messages from Violet.

Interesting message from Lindsey. We need to chat.

And then, less than an hour later:

He’s here. Rinker is in Detroit. What should I do?

I felt the heat rising into my forehead and, even though I knew it couldn’t be, it felt like the main artery that stretched across my temple was pulsating. Quickly.

“Hey, Mr. Kemble, brilliant lecture today,” a female student said as she walked past.

I smiled and nodded, swiping and tapping the screen to activate the telephone’s dial pad.

“Not much reception in here, yeah?” the same female said. “Straight through those doors is the courtyard. The reception is lush out there.”

I gave an abrupt, “Thank you,” and hurried outside. The bars on the upper right of the phone display lit up immediately. I dialed the home phone and listened to the line ring through.

The voicemail message picked up. My voice.
My fucking annoying voice
.

What was going on at home? What had Violet done in the time since her last text message. If Rinker were truly in Detroit, would he come looking for me, for Violet?

What did Lindsey’s message say?
I dialed again, wondering how the young woman with the scarred face could have even found Violet’s cell phone number to text her in the first place. I was so confused and without hearing Violet’s voice, I felt absolutely helpless.

At last, someone picked up.

Silence.

I kept quiet, waiting for the person who answered to speak. Expecting Rinker to bark something at me, it surprised me when I heard Violet. She whispered, and the fear in her trembling words came through clearly.

“He’s here,” she whispered and the hair rose on my neck, my skin crawling with a taut numbness that felt like white fire. “He’s in the house. How did he find me, Luke!”

“Stay calm,” I told her through the feeling of bile rising in my throat, and that was when I realized that I was whispering as well. “Where are you?”

“The bedroom,” she said. I felt a little safer now, but I fucking wished I could be closer to home, closer to keeping her safe and reinforcing my last message to Rinker: This. Is. Over.

“Where’s Rinker?”

Her answer seemed to take forever, but I could hear her breathing and that added some assurance to my humming nerves. But when she said, “I don’t know,” I saw the red terror in my vision again.

Silence.

I checked the courtyard’s outdoor clock – just before four in the afternoon here, which meant it was almost eleven in the morning back home. I closed my eyes.

“Fuck, Luke,” she whispered and the panic in her voice made the phone feel cold against my face and in my hand. “What should I do?”

I focused on my breathing –
stay calm, Violence, you’re in control here, you always are
– but all I could picture was Rinker’s torture chamber underneath the Imperial Theater’s stage. My time on the cross. The weight loss. The delusions. I remembered seeing Violet’s cardboard cutout and the hope that had swept through me until I realized it wasn’t really her. I imagining the love of my life in the same kind of predicament and that image caused my mouth to go dry and my legs to feel weak. I leaned forward on my knees, the feeling of helpless nausea rushing to me like an NFL linebacker.

“I think he’s here,” she whispered. “In our room.”

Snapping my eyes open, I knew I needed to cancel my stage prospecting tomorrow and get on a plane tonight, right away if possible. I checked the time again – still a few minutes short of four o’clock – and realized that I could get to the airport by four-twenty if I could find a taxi. So I started running.

“Stay with me,” I said, entering the building where the reception was shitty, and listening closely for the sounds of her breathing on the other end.

But halfway through the building, I heard Violet’s wicked, chilling scream. It cut in and out; the reception was choppy at best. I wanted to just stop and listen harder, but I kept running and, once I spilled out of the building onto Warwick, the screaming had cut off. I blamed the poor reception for ending the call.

It hadn’t.

If I shut out the traffic sounds on the street, I could hear it.

Breathing.

Deep, angry breathing.

“Well, well,” Rinker said, his tone as dry as eighteen-year old whiskey. “Fancy finding you at the other end of this call, hmm?”

“Where’s Violet,” I demanded, my voice stern and semi-diabolical, even though my balled fists trembled against my sides.
Touch her and you will die
.

“Well, well, Luke,” He chuckled. “Seems we both have something the other wants.”

“And what is that you want now, Rinker?” The dryness in my mouth felt like I had swallowed beach sand. “You better not fucking hurt her.”

“I can’t quite promise the latter.” I could hear the smirk in his tone. “But as for what I want…I want it all now.”

I closed my eyes. He didn’t know this, but I had given him everything. Violet wouldn’t know any better either, but there was nothing left to give him. After that two million I left on his kitchen island, we were officially broke until the next show started generating an income that we could invest.

Unless Janelle could advance from the trust account, but even then we didn’t even have a million dollars.

“You’ve taken everything from me,” he rumbled on the other end of the line. “Now it’s a matter of
lex talionis
,” he added, his Latin perfect in his ivy-league accent. “An eye for an eye. Balancing the books.” He chuckled, but stopped abruptly. “Where is she, Luke?”

“Let me talk to her,” I countered.

“I want Lindsey,” he growled, and he sounded like a wounded animal, backed into a corner with its teeth bared and ready to bite. “Where. Is. She?”

I didn’t know where Lindsey had gone after spending all of that time on the train with me to JFK. The way she had behaved, the things we spoke about…It didn’t exactly surprise me that she hadn’t returned to Rinker, the man who had shunned her since I cut her face. She knew she deserved better, but I didn’t share this with Rinker.