Beyond Suspicion

The bedroom door was open, and Jack went inside. A small lamp on the dresser supplied all the light he needed. This wasn’t the kind of search that required him to slice open seat cushions, upend the mattress, or even check under the bed. Jack went straight to the closet and slid open the door.

Instantly, he saw what he was looking for. It was in plain view, exactly where Theo kept it. He popped open the black case to reveal a high-polished, brass instrument glistening in the light.

Jack took the saxophone in his hands and held it the way Theo would have. He could almost hear Theo playing, felt himself co

His heart sank as he considered Theo’s fate-as the least scary of possibilities evaporated in Jack’s mind.

No way he ran.

Carefully, almost lovingly, he placed the sax back on the closet shelf, then headed for the door.

59

•

The Luna Lodge was the kind of seedy motel that could be rented by the week, the day, or the hour. Katrina didn’t want to stay a minute longer than necessary, but she wasn’t feeling optimistic. She’d sprung for the weekly rate.

She’d chosen a ground-floor room in the back where guests could come and go from their cars with virtually no risk of being spotted. Privacy was what the Luna Lodge was all about, with an extra set of clean sheets coming in at a close second. She could hear the bed squeaking in the room above her. For a solid thirty-five minutes, it sounded like the bedposts pounding on her ceiling. The guy upstairs was Superman, but that wasn’t what was keeping her awake. She’d spent hours seated in a lumpy armchair that faced the door, wondering how deep was the mess she’d gotten herself into.

The chain lock was on, the lights were off, the window shades were shut. The room smelled of mold, mildew, and a host of other living organisms that she didn’t even try to identify. The sun had set hours earlier, but a laser of moonlight streamed through a small tear at the top of the curtain. Until just then, she hadn’t noticed that the big amoeba-shaped stain on the carpet was actually the color of dried blood.

Her eyes were closing, and her mind wandered. Being so close to all this sin evoked a flurry of memories. She suddenly felt cold, though the chill was from within her. It was like a winter night in Prague, the night she’d parted with her pride. She was just nineteen, a mere teenager, locked in a bathroom she shared with seven other roommates in a drafty apartment.

•

A brutal February wind poured through cracks around the small rectangular window. She was sitting on the edge of the sink, a battered metal basin so cold that it burned against the backs of her bare thighs. It was meticulous work, but she did it quickly. Then she pulled up her panties, buttoned her slacks, and put the scissors back in the cabinet.

The fruits of her efforts were in a small plastic bag. She hid it in her pocket so her roommates wouldn’t see. Three of them were sharing a couple pieces of bread and a bland broth for di

A black sedan was parked at the curb. The motor was ru

“Here you go,” she said.

He held the bag up to the dome light, eyeing it with a disgusting fascination. It was a peculiar fetish among certain Czech men, one that kept many a young Cuban woman in Castro’s work program from starving. There was decent money to be had from a bagful of pubic clippings.

“Too short,” he said.

“It’s only twenty-days’ growth. What do you expect?”

“I can’t use this.”

“Then give me more time between collections. At least six weeks.”

“I can’t wait that long.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?”

He opened the bag, smelled it, and smiled. “I think it’s time we expanded our line of merchandise.”

“No way.”

“Not a good answer.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’d better care.”

“I don’t. This isn’t fair.”

“Fair?” he said, chuckling. Then he turned serious. “It’s like I always say, honey. Everything happens for a reason. No decision is meaningless. We all determine our own fate.”

“If that’s what you say, then you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah. I’ll be sure to make a note of that. Meanwhile, you think about the choices you want to make. Think about your fate.”

A low, throaty groan startled her. It was a man’s voice, definitely not the hooker next door. She focused just in time to see Theo’s eyes blink open.

“How’s your head?” she asked.

He was lying on his back, his body stretched across the mattress like a drying deer skin. Each wrist and ankle was handcuffed to a respective corner of the bed frame. He tried to say something, but with the gag it was unintelligible.

Katrina rose and inspected the big purple knot above his left eyebrow. It was squeezing his eye half shut, and he withdrew at her slightest touch.

“That was a stupid thing to do,” she said. “Next time you try to escape, I’ll have to shoot you.”

His jaw tightened on the gag, but he uttered not a sound.

She returned to her chair and laid her pistol across her lap. “I suppose you’re wondering how long I think I can keep you tied up like this.”

Short, angry breaths through his nostrils were his only reply.

“The answer is: Long enough for me to figure out what to do. See, if I don’t kill you, they’re going to kill me. And then they’ll come and find you and do the job that I was supposed to do. So it’s really in everyone’s best interest for you to behave yourself and let me figure this out.”

His breathing slowed. He seemed less antagonized.

“Now, I’m sure you’d love to lose that gag in your mouth. And after lying here unconscious for so long, you must be dying to use the bathroom. So nod once if you think you can behave yourself.”

He blinked, then nodded.

“Good.” She went to him and stopped at the edge of the mattress. Then she aimed the gun directly at his head and said, “You try anything, I’ll blow your brains out.”

She took the key from her pocket and unlocked the left handcuff. She handed him the ice bucket. “Roll over and pee into this.”

Still gagged, he shot her a look that said, You gotta be kidding.

“Do it, or hold it.”

Begrudgingly, he rolled on one side, unzipped, and did his business. From the sound of things, Katrina was begi

“Thirsty?” she asked.

He nodded.

“If you scream…” She pressed the gun to his forehead, as if to finish the sentence.

She reached behind his neck, loosened the knot, and pulled the gag free. She offered him a cup of water, which he drank eagerly. When he finished, he stretched his mouth open to shake off the effects of the gag, then winced. The mere use of any facial muscles was a painful reminder of the bruise above his eye.

“Damn, girl. Where’d you learn to kick like that?”