L’Maudit Mystique

By Steve Hinton

Spanning nine generations, the LMaudit family has gone to whatever extremes necessary in order to continue their bloodline. In 1774, while the familys earliest ancestors were struggling to establish themselves in rural south Louisiana, they seriously mistreated a young Haitian woman, who then voodoo-cursed the family, intending for their name to die out.

Beginning then and continuing through time, the family offset their extinction by using several well-learned occult practices along with their cunning. Now the familys continued existence is dependent upon Marcelle, the familys last daughter of childbearing age, who is a well-educated, street-smart, successful businesswoman.

At a critical time in Marcelles life, while struggling with her responsibilities of continuing the LMaudit lineage and operating her familys guarded grave-robbing business, she finds herself the target of a relentless stalker.

Unknown to Ms. LMaudit, a villainous association is suspicious of her extraordinary supernatural capabilities and is determined to make her work for them. As if Marcelles life isnt complicated and dangerous enough, now she must determine whether the charismatic Daniel Stevens, who injects himself into her world, is friend or foe.

In a statewide game of deadly cat and mouse, stretching from New Orleanss French Quarter through the historic and haunted Lafayette Cemetery to the LMaudit ancestral homestead deep within the Atchafalaya swamplands, Marcelle is put to the ultimate test to protect her family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499079647

Book preview

Chapter 1

Friday evening

November 19, 2004

Vancouver, Canada

Standing on an elevated balcony looking down and across an expanse of the city, Mark Rogel contemplated the course of events should he decide to put his plan into action. Without intention, his view and subsequently his train of thought were suddenly drawn to the spectacle of day transforming into evening. Now, looking to where the earth and sky merged, he watched as the sun rapidly sank from sight.

Rogel was confounded to actually see and note the sun moving and moving so quickly. Normally his observation of time through the sun’s movements came in the increments of hours; first with morning light, then midday, and finally evening. Now, however, while paying close attention to the view and using the edge of the world as a reference point, he was able to track the sun’s movement minute by minute. Of course, it was really the world in motion and not the sun, but had he not been educated he probably wouldn’t know such a thing. Rogel conceded that his intellect of physics didn’t include such enormous complexities. Where he understood and applied physics was in the basic principle that where there was an action there would be an equal and opposite reaction.

Moments prior a vague brush stroke of clouds had gone virtually unnoticed. Within mere seconds and the Earth’s global degrees moved, the same nondescript clouds were suddenly ablaze in a vast assortment of brilliant colors, shades without names. The whole scene had lasted only minutes and yet those few minutes were profound. To Rogel it signified how the course of seemingly unimportant events could be significantly altered by the slightest unpredictable factor. It reminded him of what he’d heard about chaos theory’s butterfly effect.

As the pinnacle of the sunset passed, so did Rogel’s pleasant distraction. In retrospect, it had come and gone all too quickly. Refocusing himself, he was again back on task, trying to think ahead. He had already spent countless hours dissecting the rippling pros and cons of what he thought to do and was still menacingly undecided. Pondering the future, there was no doubt that the outcome of his decision would have far-reaching implications for many people, some even beyond his current perspective; thus he felt justified in being very deliberate in making up his mind.

For a man of great confidence, on this pivotal day Rogel felt pangs of doubt and was un-normally anxious. With all that was at stake it finally occurred to him that what he needed to do to help clear his mind was to take an invigorating jog around the park. Historically he’d done his best problem solving while physically exerting himself. It was a practice he had carried forward since his high school athletics days and had served him well.

Checking his watch for the umpteenth time, Rogel calculated the hours available before he had to make a commitment one way or the other. With sufficient time in hand before the deadline, he decided to follow through on his idea of going for a jog. From previous experience, he knew that on a cold night such as this it wasn’t likely that there would be too many people in the park for him to contend with, so he began making himself ready.

Not too distant from the Rogel’s location, a second man, Taylor Faulk, was standing in his lower-level hotel suite watching out the living room window to partake in his version of the sunset. Faulk, although positioned opposite his counterpart, was also contemplating a life-altering decision.

From his vantage point, the sunset was viewed as a massive reflection in a wall of skyscraper windows. To Faulk it was something of a psychedelic scene: the wavering reds, oranges, and yellows shimmering off glass while above and around the buildings’ edges the sky was a contrasting mix of blue and purple hues.

Through his abstract way of seeing the world, the bizarre scene was representative of what he imagined a dimensional portal might look like. He’d recently come to consider himself disconnected from the world and aspired to set himself apart even further.

Deep within Faulk’s thoughts, he too was weighing the consequences of the actions he was tentatively planning to take this night. He wondered if he had sufficient information, if the timing was right, if all the variables were in his favor. Thinking back to the sunset and the imagined portal, he believed it to be an omen of favorable opportunity. It was calling for him to cross the threshold and commit to the future he envisioned. Checking his cell phone clock yet again, Faulk decided to allow a little more time to pass before going for his routine walk around the park’s pond.

As the point of no return grew nearer, it had come time for Rogel to take his next step. In situations similar to this he often recalled his father’s words of wisdom, No matter where you begin or how great your journey, it has to begin with a first step. Just put one foot in front of the other and always keep moving forward. Reflecting on his life’s journey thus far and living by his dad’s philosophy, Rogel had been successful and wasn’t about to deviate from a proven approach now.

As a way out, he was consoled by how the proposed deal was structured. If he chose not to make a decision in the time allotted, no answer meant no deal, but that also meant his company would incur a larger portion of the legal expenses. More importantly, however, by doing nothing he’d be allowing fate and chance to dictate whatever the outcome would be. Such a course of inaction wasn’t his way, so he’d give an answer even if it was no.

Living about a half mile away from the city park, Rogel, wearing his jogging attire of dark sweats trimmed with reflective stripes, exited his building. He’d only made it about a block from his residence when he observed two unfamiliar stray dogs stepping tentatively from a dark side street. Once within a few feet of the approaching dogs, he saw the unkempt animals freeze, seemingly curious yet cautious of his character and compassion. Rogel, not being an animal lover and certainly not someone accepting these mangy creatures being in his neighborhood, cast a squinted glare their way. Such a look was all it took for the dogs to perceive this man’s contempt and hostility toward them. In unison, the pitiful outcasts quickly altered their course around the man, essentially giving him a wide berth, most likely sparing themselves a swift kick.

Following their survival instincts and taking a proven escape path, the dogs affected a hasty retreat back into their dark back-alley world. Filthy cur, Rogel whispered in a growl while faking a sprint toward the dogs. If it wasn’t for the public setting and the energy wasted, he would’ve enjoyed giving chase to emphatically send them on their way. Maybe next time, you sorry bastards, he muttered, watching the dogs flee with their tails tucked.

Approaching the front door of his room, Faulk had dressed in seasonal attire, making for a comfortable outing in the cold night air. As per their routine, his faithful bronze-colored Rhodesian Ridgeback Joski, Jo for short, approached and sat quietly at his side. Looking down into the dog’s deep brown eyes, Faulk could see the animal’s desire to be included. Jo was an obedient, patient dog, so there wouldn’t be any whimpering or begging.

You know, don’t you? Faulk said, reaching down to scratch his companion between his ears.

Jo didn’t budge, nor did he let his stare stray as much as a millimeter from his master’s eyes.

"Riem, Faulk said, speaking Dutch, Jo’s language of command, to which the dog eagerly trotted from the room, returning shortly with his leash in mouth. Good boy," the animal’s master praised his companion as he finished gathering and placing a few necessities into his pockets. Now Faulk attached the leash to Jo’s collar, looping the excess length in his hand before heading out for their walk.

Another week was finally done, and so it was for an ordinary Friday night that all the hard-working people would soon be setting out for their therapeutic routines of self-indulgence. Likewise, the various scoundrels, cheats, and predators were out awaiting their prey. There were no limits to the people’s options in such a metropolis: some moral, some sinful, some extravagant, some mundane, some legal, and some criminal. The two things certain this night were that there would be some enjoyable outcomes and there would be some misery. The innumerable results wouldn’t be unlike the recent sunset with minute factors and a mere degree’s variance having potentially drastic effects on what might have been otherwise.

Friday evening

November 19, 2004

Miami, Florida

Nathan, I’ve been expecting your call. Where are you? Luke Marsh asked, his occasional business ally and periodic rival.

I’m headed your way now, so no need to worry. I’ll make our gathering on time.

Excellent, I’m looking forward to it and to taking some more of your money, Marsh laughed.

A couple of times each year the two, along with a few select invitees, would gather for a not-so-friendly game of high-stakes poker. Typically, their events were nothing more than an expensive bloodletting for all except the one big winner.

I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Your overconfidence has cost you before, or have you forgotten, Cain replied, making good on the opportunity to plant a seed of doubt in Marsh’s mind.

Instantly agitated at the thought of his last big loss, Marsh chose to change the subject to what was more important to him by asking, By the way, how’s our acquisition going?

Everything’s looking good, Cain replied without getting into the details. He was apprehensive about telling Marsh too much since Luke had burned him before, either by stealing a deal out from underneath him or doing something to increase the price.

You’d better be right. We’ve both got a lot at stake in this, and I’m hearing rumors they’re getting cold feet. Just know that if you don’t come through on your end of this, I’ll be forced to cut you out and go it alone in New Orleans, Marsh said, intending to make sure his partner understood the terms of their alliance.

Cain detested the feeling of someone trying to goad him into completing something he’d already agreed to. He’d accepted this venture based on certain rewards, and he’d see it through for that reason and not because someone was trying to pressure him. You’ll have what you want by the time we meet, so don’t sweat it, but you’d better prepare yourself for a double payoff, Cain replied before abruptly hanging up. He’d had enough of this conversation and wanted to be sure to have the last word.

Breaking quickly, but in relative silence atop the rain-pelted pavement, a shiny black Cadillac Escalade turned off its headlights as it stopped at an unmarked, unmanned security gate. Moments later, after the driver activated a remote control, the mechanical gate rolled open with the luxury SUV immediately passing through the narrow entryway. Once beyond the gate, the unlit vehicle accelerated through the night across a featureless black tarmac. Were it not for the sparkling wet rooster tails thrown up by the speeding tires the vehicle would’ve been virtually invisible.

Bearing straight ahead, the driver’s course was determined by a red beacon pulsating atop a distant building’s roof. After only a few seconds at a distance of a couple hundred yards, the brake lights flashed red as the limo slowed abruptly before disappearing into an airplane hangar. Inside the building, the vehicle rolled to a stop within a few yards of an elegant Gulfstream G5 corporate jet.

Sir, we’ve arrived, the driver announced through the Escalade’s intercom system being that the area behind the front seat was totally soundproof and completely blacked out. When the privacy section was fully activated, as it was now, a passenger wasn’t able to see out to know where they were.

From corner to corner, the interior of the spacious building was absent of any movement or sound and almost black except for the slivers of light escaping around the jet’s drawn window shades.

A couple of minutes had passed since the vehicle pulled in and stopped while the driver awaited a reply from his passenger.

All right, a deep-toned voice eventually replied from the backseat, signaling the driver to commence the vehicle’s unloading and aircraft’s loading routines.

Following his boss’ go ahead, Blake Kovacks, the tenured driver, business associate, and bodyguard, popped the trunk, which was the understood signal for all hands to begin performing their duties.

From a dark office, two manly figures approached the trunk, where they promptly transferred the bags of luggage to the aircraft’s cargo hold. Once the items were stowed, the men hurriedly returned to their isolated post.

Throughout the well-executed routine, there wasn’t a single word spoken by anyone, nor were there any wasted steps. Once back in their station the men wouldn’t reappear until the aircraft was securely sealed and ready for departure. Only then would they return to move the car from the jet’s path.

With everyone out of sight, Kovacks exited the vehicle then opened the backseat door. Shortly afterward he and Cain were boarding the G5 jet with Kovacks bringing up the rear.

Good evening, Mr. Cain, an attractive middle-aged, well-dressed woman said, greeting her boss at the jet’s entryway.

Phyllis, Cain replied in a hushed tone, offering her only a casual glance as he made his way inside. Are we ready to go?

Yes, sir, she replied respectfully before also acknowledging Kovacks, whom she didn’t particularly like. Phyllis, Cain’s executive assistant and primary legal counsel, then stepped smartly toward the cockpit doorway, where she informed the pilots that everyone was onboard. Knowing that precise planning and clockwork efficiency were essential to the man in charge, she wasted no time performing her duties.

Close on Phyllis’ heels throughout the forward section was the newly hired flight attendant Sandy Jericho, who accompanied her mentor into the jet’s main section, where they took their seats.

Please prepare for taxi. We’ll be airborne shortly, the captain broadcast for all to hear.

Moments later, the craft’s running lights were illuminated as the multimillion-dollar jet began to slowly yet deliberately maneuver out of the company’s hangar. Once beyond the building’s confines, the aircraft’s twin turbine engines were gradually throttled up. In response, the magnificently engineered machine hummed enthusiastically as it made its way across the expanse of the isolated property.

While the jet rolled toward its takeoff point, Phyllis briefed Sandy on the specifics of her upcoming duties. Once we’re at cruising altitude, Mr. Cain will be involved in a business meeting. After that, he’ll be expecting his cocktail. I’ll let you know when he’s ready. Do you remember how he likes it? Phyllis asked.

Yes, ma’am, Tanqueray and tonic with double gin, double lime, and one olive, right? the twenty-six-year-old statuesque blonde answered while tugging her overly tight uniform vest back into place. She was constantly annoyed that with every move she made the damn thing would ride up her shapely frame due to her disproportionately large chest.

In a chilled glass with light ice, Phyllis reminded her. Served with girlish charm, a killer smile, and some hip action, she added before handing Sandy the aircraft’s foodstuff and supplies inventory list.

Sandy, being in her midtwenties, had had several years’ experience with Continental Airlines when Ms. Tate recruited her into working for Cain Enterprises. She had no idea what the company was involved in and didn’t much care. Instead, she focused on the money, generous benefits, the rewards of working exclusively for a millionaire, and just learning her new duties. Although it was now in the past, Sandy had been very curious and duly concerned about what she was being hired into due to the extended and intense hiring process she’d gone through. Somehow, despite a few prior personal indiscretions, she managed to endure the repeated interviews, the extensive aptitude tests, and even a series of psychological evaluations. Being far removed from a stereotypical dumb blonde, Sandy surmised that perhaps parts of her checkered past had actually benefitted her in landing this job. She did consider herself to possess certain uncommon qualifications.

Only two days removed from her hire date, Sandy’s lingering concern was the feeling that she might have signed her life away. Just yesterday she’d been seated before a team of lawyers not only affixing her signature to several legal documents, but also making a tape-recorded declaration of her job acceptance.

Please prepare yourselves for takeoff, the captain announced in a reassuring tone. Moments later the massive engines revved, sending a shudder of power throughout the craft. Gradually at first, then with ever-increasing velocity, the jet raced along the striped runway. In an instant, the nose rose and the sensation of being a part of the world fell away. Beneath the rapidly ascending craft, Miami’s city lights warped away to the size of distant stars.

For a time, as the jet soared ever higher, its occupants remained seated and belted in.

We have achieved our cruising altitude. Please feel free to move about the cabin, the captain said over the intercom. We should arrive in Las Vegas around midnight local time.

Only after the captain’s update did Sandy know where she’d be spending the night. No problem, she thought since she hadn’t been to Vegas in a couple of years and remembered several shops and boutiques she’d love to revisit if time allowed.

In the jet’s midsection, Kovacks was unbuckled and tending to the business at hand as soon as the fasten seatbelt sign had gone out. Checking his watch, he found the time to be near the anticipated hour. I’ll make the call shortly, he advised his boss.

Good, we need to have everything in order as soon as possible, Cain contributed. Our interests in New Orleans are also dependent on tonight’s success. Cain preferred not to personally involve himself or his staff too early on in certain matters unless it became absolutely necessary. If everything went according to plan over the next forty-eight hours, he’d be in a commanding position among his peers; if it didn’t go smoothly, he’d already decided to commit every resource at his disposal to have things his way. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he wasn’t going to sit idly by and allow it to slip through his fingers.

Chapter 2

Friday evening

November 19, 2004

Vancouver, Canada

It was near 7:00 p.m. when Rogel and Faulk entered the threshold of the city park, a wooded landscape of various evergreen and coniferous trees, stretches of manicured lawns intermixed with an array of flowerbeds that would’ve been colorful and fragrant were they not seasonally dormant. In a northern section of the property was a picturesque oval-shaped eight-acre pond complete with an illuminated fountain. Besides the aesthetics of the pond, it also served as a hospitable living place for various resident species of waterfowl.

Meandering throughout the park, both in the open and through the wooded areas, was a vast network of interconnected walking trails with neither a beginning nor an end, which the public could use any time of day year-round.

Circling the pond was a paved surface wide enough for a service vehicle or several people walking side by side. Throughout the grounds were a number of fixed lamps, picnic tables, and benches appropriately placed for people to sit and enjoy the diverse scenery.

From a bird’s-eye perspective, Rogel and Faulk entered the park from opposite sides, each beginning his travels by walking the main path in a clockwise direction. Eventually Rogel began a slow jog, then altered his course, taking a woodlands trail under a bright half-moon while Faulk and Jo stuck to the more open paths in close proximity to the pond. Over time, the men’s random paths meandered about, sometimes nearing each other before straying farther apart. There didn’t appear to be a pattern at work or a reason for their chosen paths other than just allowing their feet to direct the way. To their mutual satisfaction, neither man noticed too many people making use of the park, which wasn’t surprising since it was such a cold November night.

Some park participants were going through the motions of dragging their overweight pets around, while others, the couples, seemed to be out for romantic strolls. Besides the mostly normal citizens, there were a few drunks and stoners around taking advantage of the night to mingle while still maintaining a low profile under the cover of darkness. Lastly, there was a pair of city policemen mounted on horseback patrolling the park, making it a point to be openly visible in order to discourage any law-breaking. In general, no one paid undue attention to anyone else except to be on alert for trouble. It was acceptable and wise these days for people to verify that any passersby posed no discernable threat. Conveniently, since it wasn’t crowded, everyone had ample space to enjoy themselves without infringing on others.

At an intersection of walkways, Faulk and Jo exited a pond-side woodland path and happened upon a couple seated on a pond-bank bench. Jo, the Ridgeback, was the first to be aware of the strangers, and in midstep stopped to look them over. At the dog’s alert, his handler assessed the couple. By their semiformal dress, they appeared to have visited the park for some fresh air, apparently after an evening out for supper. The woman wearing an overcoat and dress boots appeared to be in her late twenties; the man in a sports coat looked to be in his early thirties. To the observer there was nothing particularly striking about either one, and they certainly didn’t look to be of any identifiable threat.

Within another few seconds, the woman became aware of the unannounced visitors, seeing the man with his large, muscular, rusty-furred dog. What a pretty boy, she said invitingly.

Faulk was somewhat surprised by her unconcerned reaction upon seeing him and Jo appear out of nowhere. Oddly enough, she seemed pleased; apparently, she was an animal lover. Although Jo didn’t actually move in her direction, his owner could feel the tension in the leash as the muscular dog shifted his weight forward. Before relenting to his pet’s desire, Faulk studied the woman’s companion to measure his demeanor. From the look on his face, he wasn’t as accepting of the intruders as his lady friend and yet he did nothing to restrict the encounter. Faulk now allowed his pet to lead them slowly forward.

What’s your name? the woman asked the dog in a kind, flirtatious tone as if really trying to make conversation with the dog. From the sound of her voice and slightly slurred pronunciation, Faulk concluded that she’d been drinking and was somewhat under the influence.

With the sizable, mature animal now standing between her knees, the petite brunette began to stroke his head. Jo was encouraged by her welcoming behavior and pressed forward. Once again, his handler allowed the dog some liberty. In another step Jo’s head was on the woman’s lap. Eventually she looked to the dog’s owner for the answer to her earlier question.

Just as Faulk was about to answer, a movement on the opposite side of the pond around the corner of a cove caught his attention. Once the figure jogged beneath a lamp, even at a distance of about 150 yards, he could see that it was a man wearing a dark jogging suit with reflective stripes. The jogger was quickly recognized as the same individual he’d seen frequenting the park lately.

His name is Pal, Faulk finally answered after gathering himself from his distraction. At the mention of Pal, he could feel Jo stretching his thick leather leash as this was a certain command word for the dog.

Suddenly Jo’s conduct changed to one of unanticipated aggressiveness as he rose up quicker than could be predicted, placing his heavy forepaws on the woman’s lap. Instantly reacting to the dog’s advance in order to maintain a safe distance, the woman leaned backward on the bench to the degree that her feet came completely off the ground. Now off balance, she had to lock her arms at her side to keep from being unseated. A fearful, wide-eyed expression wiped away her soft eyes. Her friendly smile dissolved as she found herself almost smothered by the beast with his chest pressing upon hers. Now the dog stood taller than the woman was sitting. Forced to recline by the dog’s encroachment, she couldn’t help but look up. When she did, she could see the dog looking down at her, his mouth open, his hot panting breaths fogging the night air, his white teeth gleaming in the lamp light, his tongue hanging out with saliva about to drip onto her face. There was nothing she could do other than try to hold her pose and hope that no further advancement would take place. She was panicked. Her arms were trembling from strain and her back was feeling fatigued. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold herself and the dog up. She was feeling increasingly powerless and afraid.

In this instance, the word Pal, being a specific command was used by Faulk as a clever deception to change the mood of the encounter and convey to the couple that he didn’t have full control of his dog. In actuality, this interaction was a ploy to quickly curtail the gathering before the jogger arrived.

"Jo, naar beneden, Faulk commanded, speaking Dutch, while snapping the leash backward, immediately causing his dog to back down off the woman just as her agitated boyfriend started to intervene in the animal’s improper conduct. As if a switch had been flipped, the dog was once again under control, showing no further signs of unruliness. I’m so sorry, Faulk apologized, lying. I don’t know what came over him."

Now backing up, with Jo immediately at his side, the man and dog resumed walking along the pond-side pavement. Not looking back, they quickly disappeared into the shadows just as mysteriously as they’d arrived.

What the hell was that? the woman’s friend asked as he helped her to sit back up.

I don’t know, but I want to go home, she answered, her voice quivering.

Ahead at about a hundred yards, Faulk and Jo could see the familiar jogger approaching. Even in the less-than-ideal conditions, the man was easily recognized from a previous unpleasant encounter when he had made it obvious that he didn’t like dogs as he antagonized Jo while running by. The inconsiderate jogger had also been unfair about sharing the path by occupying the middle, leaving Faulk and Jo little room on either side.

Along this particular stretch of asphalt, it was uncomfortably dark, with uneven footing on the wooded side of the path, with the pond almost immediately on the other side. With the hazards of roots on the right and water on the left, this wasn’t the place for someone to lose safe footing.

Now at fifty yards, the jogger ahead was following his normal routine by centering the path while gradually speeding up.

Well, here we go, Faulk said for Jo to hear while moving across the path away from the watery edge.

Coming through, Rogel called at about twenty-five yards’ distance.

So be it, asshole, Faulk said under his breath.

Now at twenty yards, in preparation for the inevitable encounter Faulk pulled Jo’s leash in, coaxing him closer. Ten yards, now seven, four, one. The distances decreased rapidly with each of the jogger’s rapid long, bounding strides. At a point almost face to face, Rogel cut abruptly across the man and dog’s path as if to make his point that he didn’t like them sharing his space. In reaction to the jogger’s intimidating dart, Faulk triggered Jo’s leash by snapping it like a whip, immediately sending the animal forward. In a burnt red blur, Jo bolted ahead of the jogger, where he quickly cut in front of his legs, towing the leash snug across the sprinter’s shins. In a sprawling mass, Rogel hit the asphalt in hapless calamity as if he had been calf roped.

The impact was mainly face first, with blood and teeth marking the crash site. Barely aware of what happened, the fallen man’s wind was immediately knocked from his lungs. He was likewise dazed and incapacitated from the disastrous impact with the unyielding surface. If he’d had his faculties about him he’d have been aware of the pain from his missing teeth, badly skinned chin and hands, but in his traumatized condition Rogel couldn’t feel much of anything.

"Aanval," Faulk commanded, ordering Jo to attack.

Long before Rogel had an opportunity to recover and assess what had happened, he was immediately set upon by both man and beast. The canine went for his right thigh while the man pounced on his back, straddling him with his knees pressing into his biceps. Moving with great efficiency, the assailant wrapped a length of the available leash around his victim’s neck, drawing it tight, effectively choking the life out of him.

The man down was too tired and too stunned to mount a defense. All he could manage was a gurgled protest as he clawed at the pavement. Fighting to call his muscles into action and his brain to think, he only had the capability to see, and even that was failing fast. Faintly aware, Rogel could see the periphery of his vision beginning to funnel inward inch by agonizing inch, until all he could focus on was the single bloody tooth lying in front of him. And then even that speck blurred to nothing.

Wasting no time once his target was limp, Faulk dragged Rogel’s body into the nearby bushes. There he quickly went through his pockets while periodically checking the surroundings for anyone approaching. While collecting the spoils, he saw Jo enthusiastically licking up the bloodied crime scene. Per his instructions, Faulk remained onsite alongside the body, awaiting a phone call.

Friday evening

November 19, 2004

Cain Enterprises jet

Standing in a corner of the jet’s isolated business section, Kovacks checked the time, then after approving the contact with Cain, dialed the number before placing the call on speakerphone.

Hello, Faulk said in a distinct whisper.

Have you completed your assignment? Kovacks asked, alluding to the contract killing without speaking to the specifics of the job.

Yes.

At the supposed confirmation, Kovacks looked to his boss, who simply nodded his approval to continue. If that’s the case then you should have access to the man’s ring. Read what’s inscribed, Kovacks said.

Following the instructions, Faulk laid the phone down then removed the dead man’s ring. Thankfully it wasn’t too tight. One step at a time, Faulk answered, reading the inscription.

Upon hearing the correct answer, Cain signaled his associate with an upward thumb, conveying his approval to continue. In reaction, Kovacks picked up the phone, deactivating the speaker connection. Now for a few minutes Kovacks relayed the basic terms of a new project, including the location of the next assignment. His tone wasn’t loud or argumentative, but he was deliberate and nonnegotiating in continuing the killer’s services.

With the proposition agreed upon, Kovacks instructed the assassin to catch a chartered flight to New Orleans departing the Vancouver airport at 6:00 a.m. He also relayed the alias to be used and informed his new associate that there would be someone at the New Orleans airport to pick him up. Your ride will be wearing a yellow shirt and a lime green cap. He won’t know you, so you’ll have to approach him. I’ll be in touch once you’ve had time to get settled, Kovacks said before abruptly hanging up.

Satisfied by the call’s outcome, Cain hit a switch, alerting the flight attendant station that he was ready for his drink. Upon receiving her boss’ signal, Phyllis directed Sally to mix the drink while she watched to make sure it was done precisely.

Friday night

November 19, 2004

Vancouver, Canada

At the call’s conclusion, Faulk returned his victim’s property to its proper place, including the ring. By leaving the jewelry, cash, and credit cards, he intended for the man’s death not to immediately appear as a crime. He wasn’t so egotistical to believe he’d committed the perfect crime; he just wanted enough time to get out of town. With a plan in mind, he busied himself fabricating the appropriate evidence to suggest the jogger’s death was an accident.

Before leaving the scene, Faulk removed Jo’s leash then positioned the body as if the man had become tangled in it and taken a terrible fall. To indicate such a happenstance, he placed the leash’s handle loop in the deceased man’s hand, a length around his legs, and a tight wrap around his neck. It all seemed so reasonable since the jogger had indeed died by strangulation.

To further the deception Faulk broke the leash’s collar snap, making it appear as if the man’s dog had panicked after the accident and run away. As a final touch, he bloodied a large rock and placed it in proximity to where he’d repositioned the body in an attempt to have the rock explain the facial injuries. It wasn’t perfect, but if all went well it would be days before the police figured it out. By the time the shit hit the fan, he’d be long gone to New Orleans or maybe even beyond if his work there went well.

Friday evening

November 19, 2004

Cain Enterprises jet

Once she’d prepared Mr. Cain’s drink to her supervisor’s satisfaction, Sandy began making her way toward the rear section of the jet. Walking through the midsection, the passenger area, she was impressed by the craft’s luxurious accommodations and design. It was her first opportunity to look around, but even in a quick walk-through she noticed almost every amenity someone of wealth might want was available.

Mr. Cain, your drink, sir, Sally said pleasantly while pushing open the business compartment door to enter. It was immediately obvious to her that she’d interrupted a private conversation as the two men, Cain and Kovacks, abruptly stopped talking to look in her direction. I’m sorry, should I come back later? she asked.

No, come in, Kovacks said as he moved to exit the room while Cain took the opportunity to look the new attendant up and down. It was his first time to see her.

We’ll finish up a little later, the boss said while repositioning himself in his seat like a king on his throne.

Thinking back to Ms. Tate’s coaching and not wanting to make more of the awkward situation, Sandy smiled broadly while advancing forward as dictated by her snug-fitting tailored uniform and high heels. She didn’t have to exaggerate the hip action as Ms. Tate had advised since she was by God’s grace an amply contoured woman.

Approaching her new boss for the first time, Sandy was taken aback by his domineering presence. Although she was nervous and couldn’t get a feel for what he thought of her since he wasn’t smiling and wouldn’t make eye contact, she stayed true to her instruction and training. The only thing that Sandy read in her boss’ eyes was the critical way in which he repeatedly looked her over. She was a bit unsettled to be ogled so, and yet it wasn’t her first time.

Returning Cain’s appraisal, Sandy thought he was a man of peculiar characteristics. Although his hair was youthfully thick and dark with just a touch of grey, his face carried an age worthy of fifty plus. He had the burly stature of a former athlete and yet the cut of his expensive suit looked to be hiding an unfit body. His eyes were dark and untelling. In general, he projected a massively intimidating aura.

Sit it there, Cain said in an unwelcoming tone, pointing at a small table to the left of his seat.

Obeying dutifully, Sandy bent slightly forward to do as instructed, then realized her chest was threatening the confines of her blouse. Positioned as she was, her new boss abruptly placed one hand on the flesh of her right inner thigh, with his other hand grasping her right shoulder. Sandy was duly stunned and in reaction made an effort to pull back, but Cain’s strength and determination was too great. Before she could react further, the drink was spilled and she was on her knees.

Damn it! Cain growled, his drink gone to waste.

In the galley, Kovacks was preparing to make himself a snack when Phyllis strode in acting her usual all-important self. Although he wouldn’t dare make his impression of her known, aside from her egotistical demeanor and dominatrix behaviors, he considered her a very attractive woman. For his taste, her physique, burning auburn hair, and creamy complexion were his favorite female look. Unfortunately, for all that Phyllis had going for her physically, she was still too big a bitch for him to take an interest in, not to mention the inappropriateness of such a relationship in their business environment.

While the periodically combative coworkers shared the same space, passing time by making superficial small talk, Phyllis was mentally calculating the time of Sandy’s absence. Trying not to let it show, she didn’t particularly trust Kovacks since he was a very keen individual who was wise to almost everything that went on surrounding their boss. In that regard she maintained a constant concern that he knew or would someday find out about her extracurricular activities. Phyllis would’ve felt better if she had a little blackmail leverage on Kovacks to ensure his lasting silence, but to date she didn’t. For now she was just thankful they’d never had a confrontation during which he might decide to expose her.

As the minutes of Ms. Jericho’s absence continued to tick by, it meant only one thing to Phyllis: Sandy was being detained for some reason. Thinking that now was the right time to look in on things, she promptly excused herself.

You’d better hurry. You might miss something, Kovacks said knowingly in a hushed tone, with the tail end of his sentence fading so as not to be heard clearly.

Phyllis, hearing only part of Kovacks’ comment answered with a sarcastic sneer as she spun around, leaving him grinning.

Moments later she was easing open the business compartment door in such a way as to not make her presence known or disturb whatever was going on. What she saw wasn’t shocking; her boss had the new girl’s head positioned in his lap, holding her there with two fistfuls of tangled blonde hair. With Cain’s head tilted down intently watching what he was orchestrating, he hadn’t noticed Phyllis’ arrival. The lewd sounds falling on her ears were unmistakable. It was commonplace for Cain to take such advantage of the newly hired women and for Phyllis to play the voyeur.

Chapter 3

Saturday very early morning

November 20, 2004

Las Vegas, Nevada

With the time changes between Miami and Las Vegas, it was slightly after midnight when Cain’s Gulfstream touched down. During the flight, everything had gone routinely with no complications or delays. In the air, Cain had delegated certain business matters to his staff, who immediately began working the details, and he’d concluded Ms. Jericho’s orientation, with Phyllis witnessing the lascivious event.

For Sandy, her first flight aboard Cain’s jet was anything but ordinary. She was bewildered and humiliated by the outrageousness of her first-day experience. Although she hadn’t said anything to anyone, nor would she, she felt as though everybody onboard already knew, particularly Ms. Tate, who kept looking at her strangely and repeatedly kept sending her back to the boss’ quarters to see about his needs. Thankfully, for Sandy, Mr. Cain hadn’t required any other services beyond those of the conventional types.

Once the jet was situated at the exclusive section of the terminal, Cain’s staff moved briskly to organize things before leaving. Kovacks was the first to disembark, making a limo ready for his boss’s departure while also tending to his security needs. During his absence, Sandy busied herself cleaning and reorganizing the jet while Cain and Phyllis met privately in the jet’s business section. Behind closed doors Cain reviewed Phyllis’ legal update following up on the Rogel Realty negotiations, an extensive acquisition that hadn’t been going well. Now that the buyout’s deadline had passed and Rogel Realty’s president, the primary obstacle in the deal, was dead and out of the picture, he instructed Phyllis to contact Rogel’s lawyer.

This morning, at precisely 9:01, tell them we are retracting our offer and terminating communications. We’ll see if that brings them around, Cain said, confident in the leverage of his doublecross to backstab Marsh. When they call back, as I expect they will, make the second offer in behalf of the Cain Enterprises Group.

Phyllis acknowledged her understanding. Then before she could ask about the next order of business on her list, Ms. Jericho, Cain told her what he thought.

The new girl won’t do, he said, not wasting words. While we’re in town allow her some liberty at our expense while you make the usual arrangements.

Yes, sir, Phyllis answered, knowing better than to question his decision even though she liked Sandy and thought she’d make a good and useful employee if given some time to adjust.

Soon afterward, once Cain and Kovacks had driven away and Sandy had the jet in order, Phyllis approached her with a little tormenting in mind. So how was your first day? she asked, all knowing without letting on what she knew firsthand, wanting to see what the young woman would confess.