Chapter 12

I felt something soft underneath me, sinking under my weight every time I shifted. My eyes fluttered open. At first everything looked blurry but as my vision slowly adjusted to my surroundings, I found that the world was horizontal.

Where am I?

Slightly disoriented, I slowly rose from the side position and inspected the room.

I could see sunlight streaming through the gaps by the heavy beige curtains. Still, it was quite dark in the room due to the heavy covers, yet the classical design of the room was evident.

This isn't my hotel room…

On cue, the memory of last night's events flooded me. My head snapped to the only entrance—a thick wooden door lacquered to perfection.

My eyes then moved to my own clothing. I was still garbed in the dress I wore the last time I was still conscious. When I patted the holster where I kept my gun and the blowgun, they were surprisingly still there.

One after the other, I placed my bare feet on the carpeted floor and tried standing up. Clearly, I was in a stranger’s house, for what reason, I didn’t know. But it didn’t seem safe to stay.

My first instinct was to check the windows as a means to escape. So, I moved quietly towards the window, only to find the windows were completely barred in iron.

No way! Is this a prison or something?

I took out my gun, clicked its lock and began to tiptoe towards the door. I pressed my ear close to the door frame to listen for any sounds. It was deadly silent.

I tried twisting the knob and to my surprise, it wasn’t even locked.

I peeked out the door, looking left and right. Gun pointed forwards, I got out to the empty hallway.

I moved steadily to the living room and found it empty. It was quiet inside the house that I would have thought it was completely deserted, if not for the two sets of glasses on top of the living room’s table. It was obviously recent since the ice had just precipitated, forming a liquid ring at the bottom of the pair of glasses. One of them was half-full while the other appeared untouched.

"You're finally awake then," a masculine voice spoke from behind me. I swerved to face the owner of the voice and found Jeremiah Rodgers standing there with a couple of newspapers in his hands.

“Jerry?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Surprise, surprise,” he spoke in a bored tone, walking past me casually as though I hadn’t been pointing a gun to his direction. “You can put the gun down, lady. If I wanted to harm you, I would’ve done that while you were playing sleeping beauty.”

Hesitantly, I lowered my weapon before placing it back in its holster. Jerry was right, but I still watched him carefully.

“Why am I here? How did I get here? Am I being kidnapped?”

He slumped down on the sofa, leaning his head back with arms outstretched, the newspapers bunched up in his left hand as I fired him a series of questions.

So, he’s left-handed…

Jeremiah groaned. “He shouldn’t have brought you here. I hate nosy teenagers.”

“You do realize I can hear you, right?” I deadpanned. “And what do you mean by he? Who exactly brought me here?”

“I think you already know the answer to that,” he replied tiredly before rising and throwing me the pleated newspapers. I caught them in my arms and looked at the front page.

I found the vice-mayor's name there, offering a reward to whoever finds Samantha.

I tried looking for the article about the dead body and found it in a very small corner of the fifth page, with a very small font size.

Two-faced politician!

Where are the updates on the criminal investigations, the fact that the body was found on his property, and Samantha's case? Are these journalists on his side too?

I felt myself bristling. Now that I know of his power and influence, I’m not too surprised about this. If I can’t read anything about the mafia, surely it would be too easy to hide anything relative to an unidentified corpse.

But, I was curious though, if he had so much influence over the city, then why didn’t he just run for mayor or as the governor?

I had so many questions running through my mind, but first, I had to deal with the most pressing matter.

Throwing the newspapers on the table, I moved to follow Jeremiah towards the kitchen. He was grabbing a bag of sandwiches from the fridge.

Outright I accused him, “I know you were the guy at the woods yesterday. You were an avid runner and a healthy athlete. If anyone could’ve made that jump over the hedge, it would be you. I can see how it fits now, from the day after I met you and Samantha’s friends. And you were the one who sent me that threatening letter as VA.”

“Yeah, and I was right.” He made no effort to deny the accusation and continued fishing out two plates from the cupboards before placing five pairs of sandwiches on one and a single pair on the other. “If you don’t leave this town, you’ll surely die. I’ll be damned if I get blamed for that.”

I watched him closely as his back was turned to me. “Why did you send me that letter? And why have you kept a close, annoyingly creepy watch over me?”

I saw his shoulders rise and drop along with a heavy sigh. “Don’t get me wrong, lady. If it was up to me, I couldn’t care less about writing you any forewarning or guarding you like a watchdog. But since my employer asked me to, how could I refuse?” Jeremiah went right on to spreading peanut butter indelicately on the sandwiches.

My brows furrowed in confusion. “Your employer? Roman?”

“My other employer,” he corrected. “The one who’s crazy in love with you.”

“What?” Despite myself, I felt my face blush.

Jeremiah could either be lying to me or telling the truth. I wasn’t sure which was the truth or the lies. But one thing was for sure, things had gotten more complicated now. What started as a simple case of Samantha's disappearance, turned out to be much more. The situation was more perilous than I had imagined since the mafia is involved here. No wonder Olden was so hesitant back then. But how was this related to Mr. X? How did he come into the equation?

Jeremiah pushed a plate of buttered sandwich onto my hands, startling me. He then went past me, returning to the living room. “Eat up princess. Wouldn’t want your prince worrying over you, would we?”

My face blanched in an instant. “Prince? He’s your employer? But I sent him to prison years ago…”

Jerry halted, turning to face me again. His mustache was still unkempt but I could see it twitching. Before I knew it, he was laughing hysterically. “Oh, damn. You are a naïve woman!”

I walked slowly towards Jerry and carefully placed the plate on the table, not having any appetite. “So your employer… is not Prince?” I asked him again, waiting for some verification.

“Oh, no, no.” Shaking his head, he plopped back to the sofa. “I got rid of that psychopath years ago.”

“What do you mean by that? It was Mikee who caught him. Not you.”

Biting thru the sandwiches, Jerry went on to explain despite his mouth being full, “Have you ever wondered why you’re still alive? You know…” He chewed then swallowed. “… despite all the enemies you’ve made?”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’ve been watching over you for two years now under some anonymous rich guy’s employment. He said he didn’t trust you with your own life if he left you unprotected, whatever that meant.”

It was then that I realized whom he’d meant. “Mr. X? He sent you?”

“Yup.”

“I don’t understand.” Jerry took another bite of the morsel on his plate as I went on firing my questions. “I’ve read your files. If you have been watching over me for two years now, then how come you were already situated here before I came? Are you telling me that you knew I was coming here?”

“Apparently, you don’t know my boss well enough.” He shrugged. “That man knew you would come here, and that detective. He just had to pull the right strings.”

“What do you mean by that?” I felt my stomach drop at the depth and magnitude of that genius stranger whose intentions remain unclear to me. I knew him for a long time, but I still can’t seem to get my head wrapped around the things he could do.

“There are no coincidences, Milady.” This time, Jeremiah’s tone had changed from lackluster to an intense one. His eyes did not meet mine, but they were staring through the living room window, his eyes vacant as if looking at a far distance. “Detective Michael getting assigned to this impossible case is no coincidence. Me, residing here for some time before you took the case is no coincidence. Even that random paperboy who delivered a certain newspaper with an interesting headline to your apartment house was no coincidence at all.”

Jeremiah’s eyes glinted in satisfaction upon seeing my jaw was hanging wide open. “There are people watching you everywhere, Milady. He never left you unguarded. That next door couple who constantly checks up on you every day is a good example. That student who always sat at the back of the classroom and whom you kept catching staring at you every class is also no exception.” I blinked back as each information sunk in. “You clearly have no idea of the intricacies he does for you.”

“I would, if he weren’t so evasive,” I quickly bit back, pulling myself together. “Tell me, who is he?”

“I can’t. I haven’t seen his face myself.”

“You said he was just here a few minutes ago,” I pointed out with narrowed eyes.

“Wearing a mask.” He raised an eyebrow, as if daring me to refute him.

“Who does that?” I was so fed up with his ways. “Why can’t he show himself? What is he so afraid of?”

“I bet he’s unattractive underneath that mask. And he’s too shy to show himself to your pretty face.”

“That’s not even remotely funny,” I chided him with a crossed expression to which he shrugged off as nothing.

I briefly remembered being pulled against someone before I lost consciousness at the bar. “He was the one who brought me here, wasn’t he? What was he doing in the Mafioso’s bar?”

“Geez. You have so many questions.”

I gave him an exasperated look. “Humor me.”

He grumbled, “Yes, it was him. And who the crap knows what’s going through his mind? Maybe he decided to follow you or he just happened to be taking a stroll there? Happy?”

“No. Where is he now?”

“He already left before you woke up. Left some instructions regarding your safety protocols.”

I was deadly curious. But it was clear to me that Jeremiah wouldn’t be too cooperative if I’d ask politely for a description of Mr. X to narrow down my list of his potential identity. “What was his estimated height? Was he lean or burly?” I began, hoping for a response.

Jeremiah chose to ignore me, opting to resume his unhealthy meal.

I’m not one to ever give up, however. Now that I know Mr. X is here, I will do whatever it takes to unmask him. He’s not getting away from me again without the completion of my goal.

“You look thoughtful, Milady.” My gaze went back to Jeremiah who was now eyeing me intently, his breakfast abruptly postponed. “I know that look. You’re planning something.”

“Oh me?” I feigned obliviousness, batting my eyelashes up at his narrowed gaze. “I was just wondering why the window in the room I slept in was completely barred.”

“For your protection,” he bit out. “One day, I’m going to get fired because of you.” Jerry took another bite of his meal, grumbling something about a certain stubborn daredevil.

“You knew me the first time we met then.” Watching him closely now, I took the seat opposite Jeremiah with a newfound curiosity. “You hadn’t said anything then, why divulge your identity now?”

“I only do whatever the boss says.”

“You were a pretty convincing actor, you know.”

He smirked. “It’s all about method acting.”

“He taught you that as well?”

“Obviously, I’ll admit that guy is a damn genius.” Scoffing, he added, “Besides, you had a loophole.”

“Oh yeah, what is it?” I challenged him.

“The morning we met, you had been injured. But when I found you at the bar, you were no longer limping.” On cue, I slapped my forehead. “Even if I hadn’t known you before, any guy with a brain would immediately notice that little slip of yours.”

“In my defense, I wasn’t really expecting to see you there.”

“Yeah, but we did see each other. Doesn’t matter what your excuses are if you wind up dead.” Jerry shook his head with a contemptuous look in his face. “I got a feeling you had been too distracted by charming Mr. Clarkson to remember your mistake.”

I felt my face heat up in mixed anger and embarrassment upon hearing his assumption. “Don’t think that you have me figured out just yet. You underestimate me.”

“No. You overestimate yourself, little girl,” he bit back. “Don’t lash out at me because I hurt your feelings. I’m simply calling you out on your slip-ups. Damn it, if the boss blames me for not watching you. You ought to be careful woman. It’s for your sake, not mine!”

I eyed him carefully, watching every mood shift and how his body language tells about himself. Something seemed off with him and I grasped multiple facts from his sudden outburst all in one go.

“Those files, everything I gathered about your identity. Are they all real or just made up?”

“Some are half-true, and some are just omitted,” he replied vaguely, to my distress.

“I gather that you had to work in the Clarkson’s garage as cover.” Jeremiah didn’t respond verbally, just a subtle raise of a brow was enough to confirm it, so I continued, “You were expecting me to take on the Mafia, weren’t you?”

“Milady, nothing knocks you back and you’re not afraid of anything.” Jerry scoffed. “Your actions are predictable. Even the Mafia won’t scare you off. The dangers only encourage you to play the little daredevil.”

“Was he expecting me too?”

“The guy’s crazy about you and kept tabs on you for years without your knowledge. What do you think the answer is?”

“He can’t have feelings for me. That’s just plain stupid,” I quickly refuted, shooting up to my feet. “Our relationship is strictly professional. I haven’t even had a proper conversation with him once.”

“Yeah, but I guess it’s not the same for him. So, keep telling yourself that.”

Feeling uneasy, I tried to change the subject again. “Do you know anything about the Mafioso? I need evidence to file a warrant of arrest.”

“Can’t say. You know enough, and my boss wants to keep you from harm’s way.”

“You said you knew me,” I taunted him as his eyes swept over me languidly. “Even if you don’t tell me, I will eventually find out one way or another.”

With a look of utter boredom, Jeremiah just shrugged at me before resuming his interrupted breakfast.

“It’s clear to me that you won’t be trading any crucial information now. I’m leaving,” I told him, heading straight for the door. This was only then that I noticed several men in black suits standing guard outside his house. The six men wearing dark glasses glanced at me briefly before resuming their post.

From the living room, I could hear Jeremiah’s lackluster voice echoing through the wooden walls. “Good riddance.”

*******

When I returned to the hotel, I was exhausted.

Before showering, I placed a voice message for Mikee about my recent discoveries when he failed to pick up the line thrice. I gave him a very brief overview, summarizing my encounter with the mafia, my conversation with Sarah, and omitting the parts where Mr. X was concerned.

I find it necessary to discuss such sensitive matters in person, knowing the detective’s dislike for the anonymous genius.

After the hot shower, I let myself fall back to my bed only in a bathrobe. I got just about an hour of rest before I was rudely awakened by my grumbling stomach. So, I got up, changed into something casual and comfy, before heading off to the hotel’s restaurant.

On my way there, I overhead the maids gossiping about Mr. Olive and his wife’s unsteady domestic life. Intrigued, I eavesdropped for a few minutes. I found out that Mrs. Olive was on a business trip for quite a while now, probably even before Samantha had disappeared.

The girls also talked about poor Timothy Jr. and his spiritless childhood, but then, it quickly shifted to the Vice-mayor’s illicit affairs. Apparently, it was already an open secret in the town and I found it the most interesting part of their conversation. They didn’t talk for too long however, when they got scolded by an older woman.

I decided that I should start befriending some of the maids here. So far, I’ve only talked to Carole who was a bit distant and guarded. I made a mental note of the idea as one of my ten top list of things to do.

At the hotel’s restaurant, I ordered pancakes, French fries and green tea from the menu. My order was served in fifteen minutes flat since the restaurant wasn’t as crowded as it should be during rush hour. It seemed that most of the hotel guests had already eaten and were exploring the town and its beautiful sceneries.

Halfway through my meal, my phone pinged. Despite my hunger, I knew any messages could be urgent, so I dropped my cutlery to read it.

To my utter surprise, I found that it was from Roman. I couldn’t remember giving my number to him though. But then again, perhaps he got it from Kassy.

“Dear Juliet,” the message said. “We’ve arranged a meeting for the search party. We are hoping you could attend. We will discuss more about it over lunch at Marx’s restaurant.”

Ah, what a perfect timing. It was around ten in the morning. I could make a short detour to Mikee's lodging room before lunch to talk about his progress. Perhaps he had more success on gathering evidence.

"Thank you for the heads up, Romeo. You should reserve me a seat then."

I put my phone down on the table before picking up the fork to take a bite of the pancakes on my plate. It was then that I felt a presence beside me and when I turned, Timothy Jr. was there, dressed to the nines.

I couldn’t help but let out a small gasp of shock. My face immediately flamed, feeling mortified by his close proximity. If he were a psychopath, he would have been able to kill me right then.

The boy’s eyes were clear blue, intense and were completely fixated on me. But there was nothing in else in his features that could reveal his thoughts, much less any diminutive amount of innocence that a boy his age should have. No, his face was like a mask of stone-cold detachment.

I tried to steady my heartbeat and break the ice in the air.

"Oh, hello there, kiddo. May I help you?" I flashed him a tight-lipped smile. There is just something about this kid which makes my skin crawl.

Tim continued to stare at me blankly, his gaze unblinking as he looked into my soul. I held my breath as he did so.

“Mom?” he whispered so low that I barely caught it.

“What?”

He stepped closer to me, reaching up to touch my cheeks while staring fixedly into my eyes. His hands felt so cold, just like his icy blue eyes. “Yes, you’re my mom.”

I frowned. Clearly, this kid has lost his mind. How could he have mistaken me for his mother?

I have never seen Mrs. Olive before, so I can’t be too sure if we resembled each other in some uncanny way…

Briefly, I scanned the premises to see if anyone had been watching us, but the restaurant was practically deserted. There was just me and Tim in there, and two hotel maids who were busy cleaning up to notice their employer’s son conversing with a complete stranger. Plus, we were partially hidden from their view due to the unique interior design of the restaurant.

I looked back at Tim, the son of my prime suspect, contemplating my next move. I could use this opportunity to my advantage; use it to exploit weaknesses on the vice-mayor’s party. It would seem so underhanded to use a child as a weapon against his own father, but if it could save and spare a lot of innocent people, I would have to stomach the notion.

“Yes, Tim?” I spoke kindly and lovingly to him just like how a mother should. “Is there anything you want honey?”

Tim slowly stepped forward to embrace me. “I miss you mom.” The words would have been touching if they weren’t spoken so lifelessly from his lips. It lacked conviction that should have been present.

“I missed you too, honey,” I replied, hugging him back and patting his neatly done blonde hair affectionately as he buried his face into my neck.

Good. Since that’s established, it’s time to start coaxing information out of him.

“Do you know where your daddy is, honey?”

I felt him shake his head against the crook of my neck. I took it as an answer that he doesn’t know, so I shot him another question.

“How long has it been since we last saw each other? It seemed so long for me…”

“A month.” There was a pause. “Don’t go with that man again.”

I felt my adrenaline rush. Now, we were getting somewhere.

I feigned innocence. “What man, Tim? I don’t remember going away with anyone.”

“Maybe… it was a dream.”

I frowned. Perhaps I had my hopes up too high. “A dream, honey? Why would you think that?”

Instead of answering my question, he whispered, “You smell so good, mommy.”

As if touched by fire, I quickly pulled away from him. Holding him by the shoulders, I stared into his eyes. The look he gave me wasn’t murderous, but it was cold, too cold to be a child’s pair of eyes. Looking into his eyes was like staring into a swirling pit of utter darkness.

A thought occurred to me. I averted my gaze from the boy and picked up my phone. I sent a text to Mikee about my assumption, my fingers flying over my phone’s keyboard like a bolt of lighting.

“I have a feeling who that corpse is. I’m bringing a sample to test my theory.”

My intuition never failed me, and right now, it was telling me that maybe the dead corpse may perhaps be Mrs. Olive’s.

Officer Hussein had told me that Mr. Olive had a thing for blondes, so it would only make sense that his wife would have been blonde. This was just corroborated since Timothy Jr. had mistaken me, quite in an intriguing manner, for his mother. My hair had been dyed blonde, so Mrs. Olive must have been blonde.

It seems fitting that the wife would know all of her husband’s property, no matter if it was used for any romantic escapades. And as for her absence, she had been gone for a while now…

The body’s fingerprints were already unrecognizable. However, my theory would only be validated through a DNA sample. The source of that sample was standing idly beside me.

Smiling, I kissed Tim’s forehead, pulling a single hair from the boy’s groomed blonde hair. “Goodbye, Tim.”

Gingerly, I stood up, all thoughts of filling up my stomach forgotten. I grabbed my phone, casting him one more glance before leaving him there. He didn’t try to stop me, nor did he say anything else, making me wonder what that icy stare was holding underneath.