Chapter 35
"I think we've probably become the people we're going to be for the rest of our lives," Judy said. "Except we'll probably grow much sadder as time goes on, you know, when people we love start to die. When you almost drowned yourself, I took time to think about what it would be like for me if you were gone, and I realized I'd never have another friend like you. Not ever."
"We'll always have each other," Rickie said. "No matter what. Even if one of us dies. I'll tell you one thing; I got a brain flash along about my third scotch rocks and I realized how much I want to live. I've decided to fight back. I'm not going to die because Hershey wants me to. I've made my escape and I intend to go right on living."
"You've abandoned your suicidal intentions?"
Rickie sighed. It seemed a lifetime ago she'd thrown herself into the surf. "I was wrong to think that way. I didn't see any way out at the time. That's over. I'm going to live. What does concern me is Shank. He's gone to do something about Hershey, and I don't know what. Shank has appointed himself my guardian angel, over my protests. I'm afraid for him. Tonight, he wasn't clearheaded. He's broken his eleven year long sobriety."
"He drank? We should call the police.”
"And tell them what? My new boyfriend is drunk and looking for my husband?"
Judy was wide-eyed, upset. "It's all Hirschfeld's fault. As per usual here in O.J. Town, nobody is going to believe our story. We're only women, after all."
The room was buzzing as happy hour went ballistic with all the airline pilots and big producers putting their best moves on anything remotely feminine. From ten yards and counting, Judy and Rickie spied two men approaching.
"I'll tell them we don't dance," Judy said.
"My God, Judy. It's them."
"Who?"
"Them. The two guys Hershey hired to hurt me. They must have staked your place out and followed you here."
"Oh no, Rickie."
The men closed the gap, moving in close, surrounding the women. Mr. J., his breath still smelling strongly of mint, pushed his body hard against Rickie. His face was no longer shaved to a shine, his jaw line instead menacingly darkened with a heavy, blue-black five o'clock shadow. "Good evening, Mrs. H.," he said. His gaze flickered over Judy, staying a fraction too long on certain parts of her anatomy.
"You men have no right," Judy said.
"Tell me about it, cupcake," Mr. J. said. "I'm a good listener. In fact, I was picked for this job because of my excellent people skills. Now Mr. G., here, he's not known for his social poise. Which is why he never says anything."
"This is a public place," Judy said. "What do you expect to accomplish in a place like this? All we have to do is scream." Mr. G. pressed tightly against her. She twitched suddenly, then became very still.
"Don't move, cupcake. Not even a muscle," Mr. J. said.
"Rickie? There's something very sharp pricking me in my butt muscle. Something that feels like a needle."
"What are you doing to her?" Rickie said, her voice coming from somewhere deep inside a well.
Mr. J. put one arm tightly around Rickie and smiled. The crowd of happy hour drinkers pressing around them were oblivious to the arrival of peril in their midst. Time passed, whether it was two minutes, or twenty, Rickie couldn't be sure. "Rickie?" Mr. J. said. "You're going to finish your drink and come quietly with me. It'll be just the two of us. You're going to do that because Mr. H. here has a syringe full of fresh HIV-positive blood stuck in your friend's tail. If he proceeds with the injection, she's gonna have an infection."
"If I go with you, you'll leave Judy alone?"
"Affirmative, Mrs. H. After you and me leave, Mr. G. will withdraw the needle and leave Judy here at the bar. Judy of course will keep quiet for five minutes in order that we don't sneak up on her some dark night and do something awful to her. If she cooperates, she won't be on our list. We'll forget all about her."
"Rickie?" Judy's face was stark white, the sweat pouring down.
"It's okay, Judy. Let's do what they say."
"Let's not," a woman's voice behind them said. Rickie turned. Dr. Black, dressed to kill in a red slip dress covered with a black fox fur trimmed overcoat, in her hand a large bore revolver aimed at Mr. J.'s lower back, her move shielded by her coat in such a way that no one in the bar noticed.
"Who are you," Mr. J. said, "the black widow?"
"I won't bother telling you my name," Black said to Mr. J. "I will tell you I'm a former Marine and this is the real deal. You should know Rickie belongs to a group known as WE. That's an acronym for Women Empowered. We're a group of women who look after one another. Members of WE are hellacious, nasty women who fight back at the slightest threat. We don't wait for you to take us to your dumping ground. Now here's what's going to happen. You are going to let go of Rickie, and your friend is going to drop that syringe, or I'm going to blow a hole in your spine. Hopefully it won't kill you, just leave you paralyzed and impotent for the rest of your life. After I cap you in the spine, I'll have to deal with your friend. That's going to be quite a bit messier. If it goes to that level, who can say what might happen? I do know it'll be something massive that'll make the eleven o'clock news."
Mr. J. released Rickie. His voice went high and tight. "Mr. G.? Are you gonna hurry up and do as the lady says or what!"
Mr. G. dropped the syringe to the floor.
"You guys are undoubtedly working for the mafia," Black said. "I have no desire to start World War Three with them. I will if you force me, but if you leave now I won't shoot. I'll consider the matter finished. There will be no police. Don't do anything stupid, like waiting in the parking lot for me, or following me. I'm not afraid of either of you. If I ever see you again, I'll immediately kill you both and let God sort it all out later."
"It's your ball game, lady," Mr. J. said.
Messrs. J. and G. sidled slowly down the bar and out the front door. The nightmare was over--for the moment.
Judy slumped to the bar with a whimpering cry and began to shake badly.
"Judy," Rickie said. Black intervened. "Don't press her," she said. "Give her a moment."
"They were going to take me somewhere," Rickie said. "Some place where they could do who know what. They threatened to inject Judy with the AIDS virus. What kind of monsters could do such a thing?"
"Never mind that," Black said. "The important thing now is to get the both of you out of here to somewhere safe. I'm going to suggest we pay a visit to one of our members. Do you remember Jackie from our breakfast this morning?"
"The one who married a cop?"
"That's her. She's got a place in the Hollywood Hills with good security. They live with a retired police dog. I think we'd better put you and Judy up with her."
"Dr. Black, take Judy there and give me the address and I'll catch up with you later."
"Rickie, you can't be serious. You've got to get out of here."
"I've got a major problem. My friend Shank is going after Hershey. I've got to find him and stop him. He doesn't have another murder in him. He'll drink himself to death."
"Rickie, you're coming with us. There's to be no argument about it."
"No, Dr. Black, I can't go with you. Don't worry about me. I won't be alone."
"You're making no sense."
"I'll be taking my son's father with me," Rickie said. "I'll be taking Bobby Q. I should be safe enough with him. They didn't call him the Montagnard Monster in Vietnam for nothing. Did you know he stalked his enemies in the jungle for two years, living like a native, armed with only a hunting knife? They say he used to crawl down into those underground tunnels and go on Viet Cong mass murdering sprees. He ate monkey brains and big yellow bugs in the jungle and sacrificed animals to the Montagnard spirits in the highlands."
"Okay, Rickie. Now I understand. You've suffered a shock and you've become delusional. I'm going to give you something to c
alm you down. For awhile, it may be difficult for you to distinguish between your dreams and what's real. I'll be with you all the way. You are not alone."
"I'm not delusional. I'm as clear as crystal. I'm going to look for Shank and I'm taking Bobby Q. with me."
"Rickie, you're in a dream."
It felt odd to Rickie to realize she was the only person in the whole world who knew what she was talking about. She, after all, had been to Heaven a couple of times by last count. Apparently, her visits there instilled in her some form of rudimentary wisdom which was lost on others. She saw with total clarity what she needed to do. A burst of pity filled her heart for the mere mortals surrounding her. They couldn't see the grand scheme of things, couldn't fathom this present orchestration of the universe on her behalf. They couldn't see the way in which the enemy was doomed to certain defeat by this high level spiritual intervention led from above by her own daughter, Jessica Edwina and, of course, The Lady.
"Dr. Black, I'm not in a dream. I'm going to fight fire with fire. I'm going to sic Bobby Q. on the problem. It's his penance for abandoning his wife and son."
"Rickie. Listen to me carefully. You're delusional. There is no Bobby Q."
"Yes there is."
"Where is he, then?"
Rickie smiled kindly at her doctor. "That's Bobby Q. right there," she said, pointing. "That's the Montagnard Monster himself coming through the door."