Read Witch World Page 8


  He raised a hand. “Hold on, let me give you another clue that might help jog your memory. Let’s go back to that afternoon you’re talking about, or you think you’re talking about. When we got into bed and were lying there, facing each other, were you lying on your right side or your left side?”

  “I was lying on my left side most of the time. Standing at the foot and facing the bed, I was on the left side.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that means I would have had to be lying on my right side. And two weeks after we started dating I broke three ribs on that side and it was still tender when we first made love. I couldn’t lie on my right side, it was too painful.”

  “How were you able to make love to me?”

  “It was a month after the injury and it was less painful. But I was still careful to lie on my left side, not my right.”

  “Wrong. Wrong. We made love four weeks after we started dating, not six weeks. And you lay on your right side plenty.”

  “Only later. Only during the weeks before Christmas.”

  “That’s bullshit. That day was precious to me. Everything that happened that day—I’ve played it over and over again in my memory. How could I be so wrong?”

  I had even had what many would call a mystical experience after we made love. I saw a white light, and heard a sound that was unlike anything I’d ever heard before. It was more like a pure vibration, something no musical instrument could make. It sent a thrill through my whole body.

  “The stuff about my oily hands and my broken ribs are facts. I didn’t make them up.” He paused. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just . . . I don’t know.”

  “What? Say it.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not important.”

  “But it is important! That’s what I’m trying to tell you. That’s why I’m upset. The most important day of my life seems to have meant nothing to you.”

  “Jessie.”

  “My diary! I wrote down everything that happened in my diary! When we get back to the hotel, I can show it to you.”

  “You told me you don’t keep a diary.”

  “I lied.”

  “Why did you bring it to Las Vegas?”

  “I couldn’t leave it at home. My mother might find it.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll let you read the pages about that afternoon. I wrote them down that same night. You’ll see, it’s all there, and it’s not like I would have written down stuff that didn’t happen. I don’t lie to myself.”

  Jimmy continued to look troubled. “I’m not saying you do. I’m sorry.”

  My anger left as quickly as it had come. I reached out and touched his face. “I’m the one who should apologize for snapping at you. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right. It’s just our minds playing tricks on us.”

  A cold, eerie feeling swept over me right then at his remark, even though the sun was blazing down on us and the water was as warm as a bathtub. Suddenly, when I thought back to that day we were discussing, I couldn’t remember exactly what had happened. Yet the memory had been so clear a few minutes ago. Now, it was weird, it was like a part of me was starting to remember it the way he was describing it.

  “When was your first entry about me?” Jimmy asked.

  “It was when we were freshmen,” I said.

  “Why did you write about me then?”

  Because I got a crush on him the moment I met him. But I couldn’t tell him that. “We had just met. You seemed like an interesting person,” I said.

  “Oh.” I could tell he was still preoccupied.

  “Do you get déjà vu much?” I asked.

  “All the time.”

  “How come you never told me?”

  “Why should I have?”

  “Because I get it all the time, too.” I paused. “But déjà vu doesn’t relate to memory, not directly.”

  He stared at me. “Now you sound like you are trying to convince yourself. What’s wrong, Jessie?”

  I hesitated. “This argument sort of scares me. I sometimes wonder if I do have a problem with my memory. My mom often complains that she’s told me to do an errand—like pick up some milk or bread at the store—and I’ll have no recollection of it. Or else I’ll remember it slightly different. I’ll pick up eggs and butter instead. Does that ever happen to you?”

  “Since my dad never talks to me, I’d have to say no.” He paused. “Can I ask where you were last night?”

  “I was just out, goofing off.”

  “But you weren’t with Alex?”

  “No.”

  “It’s none of my business. The only reason I ask is because the whole night I was searching for you, it felt like one long déjà vu.”

  My chill deepened. Because hanging out with Russ had been like one long déjà vu. The whole time I had been with him, I had felt like I knew him from somewhere. It had not helped that he had treated me like an old friend.

  I still could not believe he had given me so much money.

  I still had the key to his room.

  But what was the room number? Four-three-four-one? That was not right. It didn’t matter, it had been the corner suite on the top floor. I would always be able to find it.

  “I know what you mean,” I whispered.

  Jimmy forced a smile. “Meet some hot guy?”

  “What if I did?”

  He shrugged. “Like I said, it’s none of my business.”

  “Good.”

  “As long as you didn’t sleep with him.”

  “You’re the only one I’ve ever slept with,” I replied.

  I wished the same were true for him. Especially when we returned to shore, two hours later, and he left to return the boat while I went for the car. Kari met me in the parking lot, not far from the edge of the lake. She was sitting in the sand by the shore and only glanced up at my approach. To say I was shocked would be putting it mildly. Jimmy had been certain Kari hadn’t come to Las Vegas.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” she said before turning back to stare at the water. I had to remind myself the girl had just lost a child. Otherwise, I’d have wrung her neck.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” I said.

  She had on blue shorts, a white T-shirt. Her feet were bare. She stretched her legs over the sand, still looking out at the water.

  “I’m not in the habit of sharing my itinerary with you.”

  “Are you in the habit of following me?” I asked.

  “No.” She finally looked at me. “I’m not stalking you.”

  I nodded to Alex’s Camry. “But you recognized the car.”

  “Yeah.” She stood and took a step toward me. Kari was a head shorter than me, a blond beauty. Except for her height, she could have been a natural model. Indeed, she’d worked with a few magazines. Her smile was the brightest in the school. It looked like she had lost most of her pregnancy weight. I felt disgusted at myself that she intimidated me.

  “Where’s Jimmy?” she asked.

  “He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  “Did you have fun on the lake?”

  “A blast.” I paused. “Why are you here, Kari?”

  She shrugged. “It’s our graduation party. One long weekend of thrills and chills. Why shouldn’t I be here?”

  “Jimmy told me what happened.” She didn’t respond and I added, “I want to tell you how sorry I am.”

  She smiled right then, it was spooky. “Why are you sorry? It wasn’t your fault.”

  “You must be going through hell.”

  “You have no idea what I’m going through.”

  I wanted to be compassionate. “Do you want to speak to Jimmy? I can go for a walk if you need time alone with him.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not here to see him.”

  “Why are you here?” I repeated.

  “To warn you.”

  “Warn me? About what?”

  “The same thing is go
ing to happen to you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Huck. Jimmy told you his name, didn’t he? I see that he did. It’s good, you should know. At least that way you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Huh?”

  “They never take just one, Jessie. They always take both.”

  “Kari, I’m sorry. I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

  She smiled again, faintly, and casually walked past me. For an instant I was sure she was going to attack. I held my breath, prepared to respond. But all she did was brush my side.

  “Good luck,” she said.

  Jimmy arrived minutes later. By that time Kari was long gone. He knew I was upset. I had to tell him what had happened. We spoke in the car in the lake parking lot, then he reached for his cell.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Calling her. She has no right to stalk us like that.”

  “Please don’t. Let her be.”

  Jimmy hesitated, then put the phone away. It was clear he didn’t want to talk to her. “The loss of Huck was hard on her. I think she’s having a nervous breakdown. What else did she say?”

  “I told you everything,” I said. Except how deeply her weird remarks had shaken me. I felt as if I needed help, protection even, but I didn’t know who to turn to.

  “Come by when you don’t know what else to do.”

  Why had Russ told me that? It was almost like he had foreseen this moment and understood how confused I would feel. A sudden strong desire to see him again swept over me.

  I knew then that my theory on how he had beaten the casino was seriously flawed. He had won using magic. He really was the magic man. If I could see him again, he would know what I should do next. At least, like with cards, he would know whether I should act or hold.

  “Take me back to the hotel,” I told Jimmy.

  Our suite was deserted when we reached the MGM. There was a note from Alex that said to call her on her cell but that was it. I told Jimmy I was tired and wanted to take a nap—alone. He was sensitive to my moods. He said he would go out for a walk, come back in an hour or so. I told him to make it two hours. He kissed me before he left but my mind was elsewhere and he sensed that as well.

  “Are we okay?” he asked.

  I forced a smile. “We’re fine.”

  “She told me she wasn’t coming. She swore it.”

  “Swear too much and it loses all meaning.”

  He hesitated. “Good-bye, Jessie.”

  “Good-bye, Jimmy.”

  There was something frightening in the sound of our farewells. Like they had the potential of being permanent.

  With Jimmy gone, I took a quick shower and dressed in the new clothes I had purchased, the short black skirt and the red silk blouse. I picked up the phone to warn Russ I was coming over. I had to go through a switchboard. I asked for him by name, not by room number. He answered on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Russ. It’s Jessie.”

  “Jessie.” He sounded pleased. “I wasn’t sure if I’d hear from you again.”

  “Don’t be silly, I had a great time last night.”

  “So did I.”

  “Hey, would it be okay if I stopped by and said hello?”

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah. There’s some stuff that’s going on and, well, I guess I could use your opinion on what to do about it.” I added, “But I can come later if that would be better.”

  “Now is fine. But come right away. I have to go out later.”

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Take a taxi, don’t walk. It’s a thousand degrees outside.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I said.

  I went downstairs and exited through the main entrance and got in line for a taxi. His hotel was only a quarter of a mile from mine. It seemed silly to waste money on a cab. Yet I was tired from our hours on the water, and although the sun was heading toward the horizon, the temperature was still over a hundred. I was lucky the line for the taxis was short.

  My driver didn’t even look at me when I climbed in his cab.

  “The Mandalay Bay,” I said.

  He nodded, started the meter, still silent. He was squat, dark-skinned, foreign, with a heavy beard. I searched for an ID and a license, which were usually pinned where a passenger could see them, but I saw nothing. We pulled away from the MGM onto the Strip.

  He went the wrong way. That didn’t trouble me. The exit left the MGM at an angle that made it difficult to drive directly to the Mandalay Bay. I assumed he was circling the block so he could come at our destination more easily. But when he had driven three blocks away from the Strip, I began to worry.

  “Hey, where are we going?” I demanded. “I told you to take me to the Mandalay Bay.”

  He nodded. “Mandalay Bay.”

  I tapped on the plastic window that separated us. “It’s back there.”

  He nodded, pointed in front of us. “Mandalay Bay.”

  “No. Turn around. Go back to the Strip.”

  He shook his head. “No Strip.”

  “God, don’t you speak English?”

  Apparently my question offended him. He stopped talking but kept driving farther and farther from the Strip. He turned onto another road that appeared to lead into an industrial section. There wasn’t a hotel in sight, and that was rare in Las Vegas. I continued to bang on his window but he ignored me. I was pissed I had forgotten my cell. I would have called 911.

  But I was more annoyed than afraid.

  All right, I thought, two can play this game. I’d wait until he had to stop at a light. Then I’d leap out the door and run like hell and he could chase me on foot if he wanted to get his fare.

  The problem with my plan, though, was that it seemed to take forever until we reached a red light.

  Finally, he had to stop. My door was unlocked.

  I was out of the taxi in a second.

  He cursed and leaped out his side of the cab but I was already running down the street. For a moment I was afraid he would jump back in his taxi and try to run me down. But out the corner of my eye I saw him drive off.

  I stopped running and took stock of my surroundings. It was definitely an area of town that didn’t appear in any travel brochures. Besides rows of warehouses, there were numerous factories. Dusty buildings with peeling paint—they looked as if they had been built during World War II. It was Saturday, so unfortunately, they were all closed.

  Nevertheless, it was eerie. There wasn’t a single car in any of the parking lots. It was almost as if this section of town was under quarantine. The idea had no sooner occurred to me when I noticed a smell of decay. The bloated sun burned on the horizon like the mushroom cloud of an exploded nuke. It was still unbearably hot but the stench seemed immune to the dry air.

  The concrete sidewalk was broken and uneven. It was easier to walk down the center of the asphalt road. But when I stepped over a sewer cover, I thought I heard faint moans. It sounded like a large group of people in horrible pain.

  It was real, it wasn’t my imagination. I returned to the sewer cover and went down on my hands and knees on the hot ground. The moaning grew louder. I could hear the voices of women and children mixed together. I tried to envision who could be trapped down there but I just made myself sick thinking about it.

  Whoever they were, they were in pain.

  A red sports car approached. It was a Porsche. The driver, a woman, had the roof down. Because she was obviously dressed for a night on the Strip, I assumed she, too, was lost. She slowed as she came near and halted when I waved for help. All around us, the shadows lengthened. It would be dark soon.

  “What are you doing here, dear?” she asked, checking me out. I did likewise. Besides wearing a rich black evening gown, she had on jewelry: an expensive pearl necklace, ruby earrings that matched her red hair, gold and diamond rings on both hands. She looked like a fifty-year-old who was trying to be f
orty.

  “I think I’m lost,” I said.

  “That makes two of us. Hop in, maybe we can figure out a way back to the Strip.”

  Had it been a guy, I would have continued on foot. But I was anxious to get out of this section of town and she looked safe. I climbed in the front seat, closed the door. She put the car in gear and we rolled forward.

  “I take it you’re not from around here?” she asked.

  “Is anyone from around here?”

  She smiled. “I hear ya. How long have you been lost?”

  “Not long. I caught this crazy taxi driver and told him to take me to the Mandalay Bay and he drove me out here. I don’t think he was ever going to stop. He just kept driving and driving.”

  “How did you get away?”

  “I bolted when he stopped at a light.”

  “Did you get his name?” she asked.

  “No. He didn’t have his license posted.”

  The woman nodded. “Bad sign. It means his vehicle’s not registered. He could have been anybody.”

  “How did you end up out here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Got in a fight with my boyfriend. Jumped in his car and took off. I didn’t think where I was going, and before I knew it, I had no idea how to get back.” She nodded to the road in front of us as she slowed back down. “What do you think? Should we go left or right?”

  I twisted both ways in the front seat, trying to peer between the buildings, hoping to get even a glimpse of one of the taller hotels. But the dirty monoliths had us surrounded. I struggled to remember how many turns the taxi driver had taken.

  “I think we should go left,” I said.

  The woman turned to the right. “I disagree,” she said.

  “Really? You just said you had no idea where you were headed.”

  “That’s true. But you see, I’m not in a hurry to get back to the Strip.”

  “I thought you were.”

  “No.”

  “Is it because of your boyfriend?”

  “No.” She glanced at me, and it was only then I noticed how dark her eyes were, how cold. “It’s because of you, Jessie.”