10
What the hell are you doing, Jill?
The question had been echoing in her head ever since that shockingly intense moment on the dancefloor, when Jack seemed about to say something that would have shattered any illusions Jill might have had about the rules governing reality.
Because there was no way the real world could produce that intensity of emotion when you barely knew the guy—and when what you knew of him was very much at odds with what he seemed about to say.
You don’t know what he was going to say, Jill had told herself angrily as she walked down the corridor after handing Jack her car-keys and agreeing to be his lookout while he went back to the hotel to do what she guessed was some snooping around Kay Steffen’s room. No, you don’t know what Jack was going to say in that mesmerizing, tantalizing, traumatizing moment when things felt both fresh and familiar, new and ancient, like pre-existing patterns were playing out in novel ways. It was like déjà vu but not exactly, like you’d been there before but not in this lifetime, not in this world, not in this dimension.
Either way, the moment had gone and the feeling was lost and suddenly Jill herself was lost in the crowd as she tried to cut through the dancefloor which was hopping again with a pulse-pounding Latin beat. She smiled and shook her head as she was jostled and bumped as she made it across the dancefloor and strolled past the buffet table which no longer looked tempting because of the way her gut was all tightened from the tension of Jack’s touch, the potential of that almost-there moment, the unspoken words that seemed to carry more weight unsaid than if they’d been uttered.
Jill’s mind was a swirling mess as she got to the crowded bar and tried to maneuver close enough to order a drink while still keeping her distance from Nina and Bobby. Nina was high as a kite, doing shots with Bobby and his idiot friends. Jill couldn’t deal with that right now, and the truth was, she didn’t want to be around Bobby Carmine when Jack wasn’t there by her side. She would be safe enough in a crowded room, of course. But now that Jack was gone, Jill felt like there was something missing, something lacking, like Jack had already claimed a space in Jill’s private world.
And that was dangerous, Jill thought as her mind snapped back to the odd reality that wait, Jack was a former Army Special-Forces man working for some clandestine private military contractor on some secret mission and he had just asked her to be his lookout!
The thought excited her, partly because it ignited a sense of being in on something, part of something secret.
Part of something with Jack.
Jill moved along the fringes of the crowd at the bar, finally seeing a spot she could squeeze into without being rude. She got herself in, leaned against the bar, had already ordered a glass of sparkling white wine before she noticed that her spot was right next to the gaunt-faced Kay Steffen silently sipping her whiskey.
“Oh, hi!” said Jill as nervous energy surged through her body, making her blurt out the greeting, her voice thin and high-pitched. “We met at the hotel, right?”
Kay Steffen sipped from her glass, then glanced up at Jill with iridescent blue eyes that shone like sapphires. “We didn’t meet. We saw each other, yes. But we didn’t meet.” She swept her sapphire-gaze across the room. “Where’s your boyfriend? Or husband, maybe. Though you don’t seem dumb enough to marry the guy.”
Jill blinked twice, not sure how to interpret Kay’s far-too-personal words delivered in that inflectionless tone. There was no sarcasm in her expression, no judgement in her eyes even though her words were harshly judgmental in more ways than Jill could count. “Excuse me?”
Kay ignored Jill’s implicit request for clarification or repetition. Instead she finished her drink, nodded for the barman to refill her glass, then turned her painfully lean body towards Jill and extended a bony right hand. “I’m Kay Steffen,” she said in that unreadable monotone which was brisk but not rushed.
“Yes, I heard you say your name to the hotel receptionist,” said Jill, still nervous but relaxing slightly when she felt a strange warmth in Kay’s handshake. “I’m Jill Hennessy.”
Kay raised her glass, touched it to Jill’s champagne flute, took a sip, then raised an eyebrow. “I know. You’re Nina’s friend. Romeo told me there was a bit of a scene in the parking lot with your boyfriend and Bobby.”
Jill flushed red, took a hurried sip, touched her hair and smiled. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”
Kay frowned. “Is there another way you’d like to put it?”
Jill saw a sparkle in Kay’s cold sapphire eyes, just enough of a twinkle that it made Jill smile. “Not really. It was a bit of a scene. I’m glad Mister Carmine showed up when he did. Or else things might have escalated.”
Kay shrugged, then smiled primly. “Wouldn’t have been the worst outcome if Bobby Carmine ended up with a broken neck. Romeo should have let it play out, but he has a soft spot for Bobby’s mom, his sister. Can’t imagine why. The woman’s taste in men is as bad as yours.”
Jill blinked in shock, shooting a glance at Kay’s already empty glass of whiskey, then swallowing hard and taking a breath to stop the rising panic that something was very off with this strange woman dressed in a black skirt-suit and knee-high leather boots. Kay smiled that tight-lipped prim smile again, then nodded to the barman for another refill.
“Um, OK,” Jill said awkwardly as Kay watched the barman fill her glass from a fat-bottomed bottle of what appeared to be very old and very expensive Single Malt Scotch. Jill was about to say something else, then paused and did a double-take when Kay reached for the glass in a way that made her jacket-sleeve ride up her forearm to reveal an intricate pattern of tattooed black ink. “Oh, wow,” Jill gasped, loosening her red shawl because she suddenly felt very warm and itchy beneath the wool. “That’s a beautiful tattoo. What does it mean?”
Color darkened Kay’s sunken cheeks as she quickly pulled her jacket sleeve back down past her wrist. “I forget,” Kay said hurriedly, sipping her whiskey and swiping her free hand carelessly through the space between them. “Seemed like a good idea when I was a teenager. Tattoos don’t exactly age like fine wine.” She smiled. “You don’t have any tattoos, I’m sure. You aren’t the type to make a lifelong commitment on a whim. At least I fucking hope you aren’t. Not with that guy you brought as your date.”
Jill frowned, totally thrown off by this odd woman who was making shockingly personal remarks with more certainty than seemed polite. Jill sipped her sparkling wine even though things were surreal enough without adding alcohol to the mix. All those unreasonably intense moments with Jack, and now this odd interaction with Kay Steffen that evoked that same déjà-vu-type feeling that something strange and mystical was happening here.
“No,” Jill said finally. “I don’t have any tattoos. Also, Jack and I are just friends. But I have to say, I’m a bit taken aback by your remarks. Do you . . . do you know Jack?”
Kay cackled out a laugh. “Oh, heavens, no. Nothing like that. Don’t worry, I haven’t fucked your man. And I never would, not in a million years.” She took another sip, then shrugged and looked pointedly at Jill. “Which makes me a better friend to you than you were planning to be to Nina.”
Jill almost spilled her drink all over the bar. “Sorry, what did you just say?”
Kay chuckled darkly, running her gaze up and down Jill’s body in a way that brought back all that self-consciousness about her tight fuck-me dress and her red kiss-me lips. “Look, kid. Your heart is in the right place, but you’re way out of your league here with these people. Nina told me about you a few months ago, shortly after you two had that big fight about her marrying Bobby. You wanted to break them up, and when you showed up tonight dolled-up in a way that I can tell isn’t your normal style, it was obvious what you were planning.” Kay shrugged. “I guess it’s not a bad idea for a last-ditch attempt to stop a wedding from happening. Except you’re not cut-throat enough to pull it off, kid.” She frowned and cocked her head now. “Also, showing up here with Caveman Jack doesn’t fit the story, like Jack was a late addition to your plan, maybe even screwed up your plan. Well, unless your plan was to bait Jack into losing his cool and maybe killing Bobby Carmine.” She narrowed her gaze thoughtfully like she was actually considering the possibility of that being true. After a moment she swiped at the air again and shook her head firmly. “Nah. You don’t have that in you. You wouldn’t have been able to pull it off even if Jack hadn’t busted up your perfect little plan. Like I said, you’re way out of your league with this crowd, Jill. You should run far away from all this. Forget your friend Nina. She’s a grown woman and needs to deal with the consequences of her own decisions. You should cut your losses and walk away.”
Jill pushed her half-drunk glass of sparkling wine away, wondering if Bobby and Nina had spiked all the drinks with some hallucinogenic drug. But her mind was alert with adrenaline, clear with concentration, focused with fear too vivid to be artificial.
Did Kay Steffen already know that Jack was looking for that guy Diego? Was she simply toying with Jill, like how a cat plays with a mouse before sinking its sharp teeth into the dumb mouse’s squeaky little neck and ending the cruel game?
“Ten years as a criminal prosecutor with the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Philadelphia,” said Kay with a sharp smile, her blue eyes studying Jill with some amusement. “We were trained to quickly assess someone’s personality and motives, pick up clues from body language and posture, clothing and makeup, intonation and movement. Then we put it together to form a narrative, a story.” She shrugged. “Looks like I got a lot of that story right with you. I see it on your face, Jill.” Kay smiled with unexpected warmth now, leaned close and placed her hand over Jill’s, squeezing gently. “Look, I got a read on you immediately, Jill, and I know you do not belong in a room of thugs and thieves, mobsters and monsters. I shouldn’t be saying this, but I’ve had a couple of whiskies and so I’m going to say it anyway.” She took a breath, exhaled slow. “Because there’s something sweet and innocent about you, Jill. Something untainted by the darkness that comes when you see things that can’t be unseen, when you do things that can’t be undone.” Kay pulled her hand away now, straightened her back on the barstool, sighed and shook her head. “Romeo told me Jack is former military, Army Delta. These Special Forces guys often join private security firms or off-the-books government-sponsored outfits. My guess is Jack is working undercover with DEA or ATF or some other Federal agency trying to get something on Romeo Carmine.” She sighed again, folded her arms over her flat chest. “He’s not going to get anything on Romeo. And judging from the way Jack lost his cool with Bobby in the parking lot, being around Jack might be dangerous for you, Jill.” She shook her head again, tightening her bony jaw and glancing down at the bar, her eyes darting left and right, like she was furiously fighting the whiskey-driven urge to say more than she should. Finally she looked up with a cold determination in her eyes that made Jill wonder whether Kay had won or lost that internal debate. “I saw you and Jack out there on the dance floor,” Kay said quietly. “I bet it felt real, but it’s not. It never is. Men like Jack are like those masterful politicians who can make anybody feel like the most important person in the world. But it’s just a skill, no different from learning how to play a musical instrument.” She shook her head sadly. “Don’t get played, Jill. I don’t know how you and Jack connected, if you’ve known each other for some time or if this is new, but everything about his background and body language tells me that he’s using you to get into this wedding, to get close to Romeo Carmine. He’s not going to get anything on Romeo. He’s not going to get anything except killed.” She took a breath, drained her whiskey, then slid her slim butt off the barstool and straightened her pencil-thin skirt. “Don’t get caught in the crossfire, Jill. Because sometimes the crossfire doesn’t kill you, and then you find out there are things worse than death, that you can be trapped in a place on earth that’s worse than hell.”
Now Kay glanced past the bewildered Jill’s shoulder, nodding at someone who silently walked past them. Jill turned just in time to see Romeo Carmine strolling languidly towards one of the corridors leading to the innards of the mansion. Kay was already following him, her footsteps brisk, her posture straight, her gait smooth enough that if she was drunk, she certainly knew how to hold her liquor.
Jill stood there alone at the bar, not sure how to process all of that. If she thought being around Jack had gotten her turned around and mixed up, she was now completely lost at sea, spinning off into space, tumbling down a rabbit-hole with no visibility as to whether it led to Wonderland or straight down to hell.
What was that stuff about being trapped in a place worse than hell, Jill thought as she held onto the bar in case the world starting spinning. She stared at the empty corridor down which Kay and Romeo had disappeared, then blinked dumbly as Kay’s startlingly spot-on words burrowed deep into her swirling subconscious.
Had Kay really put all of that together just from observation combined with some basic facts like what Nina had told Kay about the fight and what Romeo had told Kay about Jack being former military? Either way, why would Kay say all that to Jill? After all, by saying that, Kay had in effect admitted that Romeo Carmine was doing something illegal enough that some federal agency might want to take him down. Was it just the whiskey talking?
Maybe, but there was also something tragic behind Kay’s sad eyes, something in the way her voice had revealed a hint of despair at the end of that warning-filled speech when Kay had talked about hell on earth, about things worse than death, about being caught in a crossfire than doesn’t kill you but traps you.
The crowded hall now seemed distant, the voices and music fading to a background buzz that barely registered. It took several moments for Jill to get a hold of herself and decide that Kay’s warning came from a genuine place, a place that Jill sensed was dark with despair, heavy with regret, filled with a yearning to maybe save some other woman from being dragged to those depths where Kay was trapped.
And if all that was authentic, what about Kay’s final warning?
Jack’s going to get nothing except killed.
“Oh, shit, I should warn Jack. Wait. Where’s my fucking phone? Oh, shit!” Jill jumped back from the bar, looking around wildly for her little black clutch with her phone that had Jack’s number on it. “Oh, shit. Shit. Shit!”
The bag was gone.
The phone was gone.
Kay Steffen was gone.