MB Campfire Story Part XIII

Charley Kane relaxed in the stiffly comfortable leather chair behind his desk, and quietly mulled over this morning’s events. In all his years’ as a gumshoe, he had never been in a shakedown of this magnitude. The irony of the situation gave him perverse pleasure and he couldn’t hold back from smirking. Despite his hubris about the cleverness of the job, there was one lingering wild card. Over and over his brain was plagued with the thought “I’ll be damned lucky if she doesn’t figure out the end move before the game’s up.” As a trusted henchman in his former life, Charley told Sal to off her, but to no avail. “Looks like I’m not the only stubborn ass in this chess game. And, now, that’s a good thing. ”, Charley smugly realized.

“Come here Rosey”-he called over the intercom to his trusty gal, Rosa Budde. Rosa had gams that would make Jean Harlow envious, and she knew how to use them. Rosa slinked atop the desk wearing scant more than a few patches of fabric, deliciously sweet vanilla perfume, six inch pumps, and her signature “fuck me” red lip gloss that drove Charley to the limits of his prurient desires. Women are evil alright, and nobody better was suited for the role than Rosa. “You look absolutely delicious this morning sugar”, Charley rasped, trying to control the longing in his voice. “I need you to contact Anika Lime ASAP and tell her that the oval office has moved. She has Vince’s phone, and is expecting our call”. Rosa purred with delight, knowing that she had her mark right where she wanted it, and replied “Is there anything else I can do for you Charley Boy?” before winking and gliding out of the office to leave Charley alone with his thoughts. In company of his favorite single-malt scotch and a few Marlboros, Charley sighed. He quietly cursed the man who had just surpassed Judas in grand betrayals. This time, though, checkmate meant a hell of a lot more than a mere thirty pieces of silver. And in the cloudy nicotine saturated mist, Charley smirked. “Yes, it was necessary” he mumbled to himself over and over.

As the fumes quietly wafted in Charley’s office, miles away, Anika lingered near the smoke of the crash. The timing of the distraction had been perfect, and the risk paid off. But now that the deed was done, Anika found an unbearable heaviness on her heart. She began to harden herself and the process was familiar yet, this time…so painful. Anika began to forget the bliss of their wedding way, the respite of their domesticity, their tender intimacy. As she waked on, so did the memory of Harry until he became a tiny dot in the sunset of Anika’s mind.

Thankfully, Vince’s cell phone also survived the crash and she wasn’t surprised to hear Rosa’s voice. She walked slowly to the French Quarter where the Petite Auberge, Le Président, and Café du Monde intersected. She knew right away as Harry lay dying that he was directing her away from the Petite Auberge, where Sal awaited his prize, to the safety of his best friend Charley. “It’s too bad Harry would never know that I meant to go there all along”, Anika haughtily thought. Rosa’s phone call confirmed Anika’s plans, and she threw Harry’s guns into the trash can. Inside these doors lies her salvation, finally. Anika entered the doors of Le Président to proudly meet her fate. The office was silent except for the quiet drag of a Marlboro.

What met her was not the adulation of her lover, but two slaps in the face, and a punch in the stomach. She crumbled onto the floor, and tears began to stream on her face. Charley kicked Anika again for good measure. “I knew that Harry loved you more than anything, and I knew of yours and his checkered pasts”, Charley sneered, “Once Bob set the wheels in motion, it was easy to manipulate you both”. “I knew more about the cryptex than you ever realized. And all this time, you thought you were working for me!” Anika, bloodied, nearly passed out, and desperate to save her life asked “I loved Harry but I did what you asked! I thought that you loved me. Who are you? I never understood why you told me to kill Harry when you were his best friend?” Charley snarled, “I am not his friend, I’m his brother. I love nobody but Rosa Budde, you stupid bitch. Checkmate.” And the last thing Anika knew before she descended into darkness was the faint smell of vanilla and the gentle click of a loaded Derringer. The full extent of the betrayal was revealed.

Part XIII brought to you by Lady Jane Scarlett

Up Next: The Grand Finale