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He shouts for me once again. I continue to ignore him.
“Yohan, leave him alone. We don’t have time,” Victoria calls out to him in a bored tone.
Their footsteps echo off the tile floors until they stop short. I’m assuming in front of the elevator. My suspicions are correct when seconds later, the elevator dings and the swish of the doors opening are heard. I give them time to get on the elevator and to hear the swish once again, before turning back around.
Pushing the mop and broom back into the janitor’s closet, I wipe everything down before grabbing the duffle I stashed there. I head down to the empty parking deck making sure to stay clear of the cameras I didn’t cut off.
The black Bently Continental is the only car parked on the top floor of the garage. I kneel on the side, away from the door and wait. Fifteen minutes later, Tim’s voice appears out of the blue.
“I’ll be there in a few. Wait up for me,” he says while on the phone. The locks on the car disengage. He pulls the door open and climbs in. I quickly slip in the passenger seat beside him. He turns to look at me confused.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Instead of answering his question, I punch him in the face. His head cracks against the window. He’s knocked out.
I slip back out of the car and go around to the driver’s side. After opening the door, I pop the trunk and quickly take him out the car. I stuff him in the trunk before getting behind the wheel. I pull out of the building, making sure to check my surroundings just in case I’m being followed.
The trip to my apartment building is quick. I unload Timothy from the trunk of the car, carrying him over my shoulder into my kill room. Once inside, I dump him into the chair. He still hasn’t woken up.
I strap his legs down first and then move to his arms. As I’m placing the cuffs on his left hand, I spot a large gold ring. The ring reminds me of those old school class rings. Instead of a school mascot in the center of the red stone, there’s a capital R with a thorny crown. The same emblem embossed in the invitation he kept.
I slide the ring off his finger bringing it closer to inspect. Other than the emblem and a few diamonds, nothing else stands out on the outside of the ring. Turning it over there is something scrolled on the band.
I have to squint to make out the writing. ‘Smith 1 of 10’ the inscription reads. I place the ring down on the table and finish securing Tim. I grab a few tools out of my cabinet and place them on the cart beside my victim. Just as I’m finishing up, Tim slowly wakes up.
His head rolls around on his shoulders as he moans. He’ll have a throbbing headache, but he won’t have to worry about it long. Finally, he opens his eyes. He looks confused, until he starts to look around the room. I can tell the moment the memory of what happened tonight dawns on him. He starts to tug at the cuffs. His eyes widen as he takes in the scene.
“What the fuck is going on? Who are you?” He asks as his attention lands on me.
I ignore his questions the same as I did in the car. “Eight years ago, a man named Dennis Chambers was killed.”
Tim’s eyes narrow as he looks me over and then a slow smile spreads over his face. He sinks back in his chair as if he’s on a leisurely visit.
“Let me guess, you’re an ex-cop or something?” He laughs. “Do you know how much trouble you’re going to be in?” He laughs again and shakes his head. “I hate to break it to you, but I didn’t kill your cop friend.”
I watch him for a moment, studying his posture. Even in this situation he believes his power and privilege still reign. His disposition is completely opposite of what it was back in his office with Victoria and Yohan.
“No,” I say. “You hired the Church to do it.”
The smile immediately wipes off his face. His brow bunches as he stares back at me. There is no smirk or smug smile this time.
“You’re part of the Church?” He asks.
I don’t answer.
“Look, I paid for that service. It’s a done deal. If you have a problem with it, you can take it up with your Pope.” His tone is more serious, like he’s handling a business deal. Not so much smugness in it as before. He respects the Church more than he does the police force.
“The Church does not do hire for kill.” I knew this to be a lie, but I was baiting him.
This time Tim laughs, albeit not as boisterous as the first time.
“Are you kidding me? That organization has been doing our dirty work for years. My grandfather used them, and his father used them before him. They are always willing to work for the right families.” His smirk grows wider.
“How does your family have the Church in their pockets?” I didn’t miss out on his use of the word families. But I’ll store that information for later.
He gives me another one of those smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He leans his head back in the chair. “I’ll admit, you got some big balls, kid. Taking me like this takes courage. But when your superior finds out what you did, you won’t last a day. Best to let me go. I’ll keep your secret.” He winks at me.
The smugness is back. He knows the Church, and he knows what we are capable of, but he still feels as if he has more power than they do. Interesting.
