Karma Part 14
By Amanda D.

To all good things part 1

The dust from the move had barely settled, three days later, and was sitting at my computer checking my email, when I received what I originally thought was just more spam.

I was going to delete it when I glanced down at the preview window and saw that it was addressed to Jake Bryant. With my curiosity piqued, I opened it and started to read what it had to say.

The message read:

Jake,
You may think you have the upper hand at the moment, but I know who you really are. Amanda is still out there so watch your step.
There was no signature, of course, and there was no indication of who had sent it, but the content made the sender’s identity obvious. It almost had to be Paul or someone working with him. He was just trying to unnerve me.

(Just wish it wasn’t working so well.)

I decided it was time to get to the bottom of this problem. If Mandy was really in New Mexico, I need to find her.

I grabbed the phone and gave Phil a call. I asked him if he knew any good private investigators. After grilling me for a half an hour about what I needed one for, he finally gave me the number of one he had used in the past. I thanked him and hung up the phone.

I picked the phone back up and called the number for Marcus Huston investigations. Once connected I gave a small explanation of what I needed. His secretary made an appointment for two the following afternoon.

I walked into Mr. Huston’s office about five minutes early. After checking in with his secretary, I took a seat and waited. A few minutes later Mr. Huston came out of his office to get me. At his beckoning I got up and followed him inside.

He offered me a seat and sat down behind his large polished oak desk. Marcus Huston was average height, a bit overweight,, with dark black skin. While his voice was higher pitched than you would expect, his eyes showed an intensity that instantly made you forget how odd it sounded.

“I read the notes my secretary left me after your call. Would you like to give me the whole story?” he asked.

“I recently found out that there is someone in New Mexico using my name. She got arrested last month and nearly got me tossed in jail. I would like you to track her down and tell me what you can about her once you’ve found her.” I told him.

He made some notes. “You just want information? You don’t want me to make contact with her?”

“No. No contact. I just want to know where she is.” I answered.

He scribbled some more. “Where was she arrested?”

“ She was arrested in Albuquerque. From the pictures that I’ve seen, she looks remarkably like me.” I told him.

“How close is the resemblance?” he asked.

“Very close. Could be my twin,” I replied.

He did some more writing. When he was finished he reached into his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. He handed it to me.

“This is a list of expenses that you’ll be expected to cover, in addition to my regular rate.”

I looked over the sheet. “Is there anything he does pay for?” I wondered to myself.

I handed the sheet back to him. “That will be fine.” I said.

“Do I need to give you anything today?” I asked.

“Yes. You need to leave a retainer. My secretary will tell you how much,” he replied “You understand that you pay me, regardless of whether I can track her down or not.”

“I understand.” I told him As I stood up and shook his hand.

“I should have some information for you in a week or so.” said he told me as I walked out the door.

True to his word, a week later we met for lunch at a small restaurant around the corner from his office. He slid a large envelope across the tablet. I opened it up and paged through the information enclosed.

Mr. Huston had been very thorough. He not only found where Mandy was staying, but had a list of everywhere she had worked, and every name she had used since arriving in New Mexico. (I’ll tell you, there were a lot of names.)

“Is this everything?” I asked him.

“Everything I could find.”.

“Did you speak to her at all?” I inquired.

“No. I followed her for three days and dug up everything I could, but I made no attempt to make contact.” Then he asked, “Can I offer you a bit of advice?”

I looked up from the paper work, “I suppose.”

“I did some checking on you, too, and from what I can tell you’re a reasonable nice girl. Little bit of trouble, but nothing too bad.” He was thoughtfully silent for a minute. “Anyway, as I was saying, I think you should leave this be. You didn’t go to jail, and this chick is bad news. I think you should walk away and let sleeping dogs lie.”

“Why? What do you mean, ‘she’s bad news?’ ” I asked, hoping he’d elaborate.

“Things are just screwy around her. It’s hard to explain. You just have to be around her a bit to understand.” he said.

I could tell, by the look of frustration on his face that he was having trouble putting his finger on what exactly it was that he was trying to warn me about. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders, but said no more.

“Well I’ll certainly take your suggestion under advisement.” I told him.

He gave me a small smile that told me he knew I wasn’t going to listen to him, and slid a second envelope across the table. I picked it up and gave him a questioning look.

“My final bill.” he said simply.

I opened it up and almost passed out. It was way more than I had been expecting. (And I was expecting a lot.) I reached into my purse, pulled out my check book and wrote him a check for the amount indicated.

“How am I going to explain this to Rita? I wondered to myself as I wrote.

After he collected his check, he excused himself and headed out the door. Once he was gone, I stayed in the booth and studied contents of the envelope . I was impressed by the thoroughness of his investigation.

My initial assessment of the packet turned out to be an underestimation of how far back he had investigated her. In the space of five days he had managed to trace her all the way back to when she had left Boston. (On Greyhound bus # 31, which had left at 2:23am on Feb.3rd)

The list of names she had used was extensive. The list of jobs, on the other hand, wasn’t as impressive. From the looks of it, things had been rough for Mandy. From what I could gather, she had traveled the country for several weeks until settling in the Albuquerque area.

I read for better than an hour. By the time I was done, my decision was made. I was going to go out west and find Mandy.

My original plan was to leave at the end of the following week. That way I would be around for the hearing over the eviction notice on the next Monday. However, Paul’s lawyer managed to get the hearing postponed for three more weeks. Unfortunately for us, we didn’t find this little detail out until we got to the court house for the hearing.

Phil had been furious. The way he was talking made it seem like he thought something fishy was going on. He swore he was going to find out what was going on as he stormed out leaving Rita and I staring at each other.

With nothing else to do, we went off to grab a bit to eat at a little restaurant around the corner. While we ate I told her that I was going to be away for a few days. When she asked where I was going, I lied to her and told her that Kim and I were going to Florida together. (No I hadn’t told her about what happened between Kim and me.)

Two days later I was at Logan Airport at 5am getting on a plane bound for New Mexico. The flight was nice. I had never flown 1st class before, so it was a new experience for me. I enjoyed it so much that I’ll never go coach again. (At least as long as I have the funds to do it.)

When I arrived in Albuquerque it was still very early in the morning. I went from the airport to my hotel and got myself settled, just to waste some time.

At about 10:00am local time I headed out to find Mandy. I grabbed the info packet Mr. Huston had given me and hailed a cab. I gave the driver the address and settled in for a ride across the city.

Fifteen minutes later I arrived in front of the building that supposedly housed Mandy’s apartment. I hung around outside instead of going in, waiting to see if she would come out on her own.

After about half an hour, she emerged. She seemed to be in a hurry and took no notice of me as she headed off in the opposite direction. I decided (Chickened out on calling out her name actually.) to follow her and see where she was going.

At the end of the block she turned left and walked down two more. I was trying to stay far enough behind that she wouldn’t notice me, but stay close enough that I could get a better look at her.

She looked ragged. Her time on the run hadn’t been kind to her at all. She was too thin by a long shot, and she looked like she’d aged several years in just a few months. Her face was bruised in a couple of spots. She was a pathetic sight and it made me feel even worse for taking over her life on her.

She eventually entered a small hole in the wall barroom. I waited several minutes before I walked up to the door and discreetly went in.

It took a few minutes before I found her again. She was seated in a booth on the far wall with a couple of other people. I stepped a bit closer and almost fell over when I got a good look at one of the men she was with.

“Alexander?” I questioned to myself as my heart filled with dread. It couldn’t be him. There was no way. He’d told me that he couldn’t make contact with out my being near death, but there he was all the same. I’d recognize him anywhere. The biggest question was, what was he doing with Mandy?

I stood there staring at him, trying to puzzle out how he could be here, when he stood up and started turning my way. I dove into a booth before he could see me and waited as he and Mandy walked past.

After the two of them walked out the door, not wanting to lose track of Mandy, I blindly followed them out. I couldn’t have been more than two dozen steps behind them, but when I got outside, they were nowhere to be found. I hurried to check around the nearest corner, but they weren’t there either.

Dumbfounded, and needing some time to think over what I just witnessed, I slowly walked back towards Mandy’s apartment. I waited patiently there all day and well into the evening before she reappeared.

As she was walking up the steps of her building I stepped out of the shadows and call out “Amanda?”

She looked over at me, a bit startled by my sudden appearance. “Who’s that?” She slurred.

“Amanda, I’ve come to speak with you.” I told her, trying to figure out how to explain who I was.

She squinted at me, trying to see who I was. When I stepped further into the light so she could see me clearly, her jaw hit the floor when she got a good look.

“Jake!” she half screamed half whispered. “What are you doing here? You can’t be here. If he finds out …”

“Jake?? Did she just call me Jake?” I thought to myself stunned.

“How …?” was all I could manage.

She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into her shabby apartment. Once we were inside, she pulled all the shades and locked the door.

“Oh, God how did you find me?” she asked. “I told that lawyer to make sure you stayed away. Oh, God … if he finds out you’re here … it’ll be bad. Very bad!” she rambled.

I walked over and put my arm on her shoulder. (God it’s so thin.) “Mandy!” I yelled in her face to get her to look at me.

“How do you know about me? Who are you so afraid of? Is it Alexander?” I asked her in rapid succession.

She looked terrified. “Don’t say his name! He’ll hear you!” she whispered.

“What are you talking about?” I asked her.

She said nothing. I grabbed her by both shoulders and shook her a bit.
“Mandy you’re not making any sense. Tell me what’s going on.” I demanded.

She bit her bottom lip and looked around the apartment. “Not here.” She said. “I know where we can go to talk. But not here. If we stay, he’ll know, and then he’ll come. And that would be very bad.”

She grabbed me by the arm again and dragged me out the door. We hurried down the street in the opposite direction of where I had followed her earlier. We walked several blocks before she stopped in front of a small coffee shop. She looked nervously around, seemingly trying to decide if we were safe of not.

After a moment she pulled me inside. We settled into a booth away from the windows and each ordered a cup. We sat quietly for a short time as the waitress poured our coffee and then until she was out of earshot.

I grabbed Mandy’s forearm and said “You’d better start explaining what’s going on here. How do you know about me, and how do you know Alexia …” she put her hand over my mouth to keep me from finishing.

“I told you to not say his name. He’ll hear you!” she hissed.

“Okay.” I said trying to calm her down. “Just tell me what’s going on. How do you know about me?”

She bit her lip again and surveyed the shop before answering. “When…When I got arrested and called my father for help…He …he …I guess he didn’t like that. He got so mad! Told me about you …Oh God Jake, I … I thought he was like a guardian angel ...” She started to cry. “I told that lawyer to keep you away from here. Why are you here?”

I put my hand on top of hers, trying to console her , “It’s okay. Tell me all of it. I’ll help you in anyway that I can.” .

It took a moment for her to gather herself. “He’s been with me since Atlanta. I thought he was looking out for me. Protecting me. But now I think it was him driving me …making me into what I’ve become,” she told me in a haunted voice that sent chills up my spine.

“Come with me! I got enough money for us to go anywhere you want,” I said.

She looked around the coffee shop again. “Jake, you have to promise me you’ll stay away from him,.” she begged.

“Come with me!” I repeated.

“Go with you?” she whispered, as if she had just heard it for the first time.

“Yes, come with me! Right now,” I told her.

I got up and tried to get her out of the booth. She just sat there, mumbling to herself. (Man she was so far gone that she was beginning to scare me.) I sat back down.

“Mandy, what happened to you?” I asked her.

She looked over at me. “I’ve been running for so long.” She said hoarsely. “I…I thought that I had killed you. Heh. “ She began to sound a bit hysterical, but finally she calmed down a little bit, “I guess I did…I ran after that. I got on the first bus I could. It took me to Atlanta. That’s where I ran into him the first time. He was working in the shitty run down hotel I stayed in for the first few days.”

She took a deep breath before she continued. “At first I thought he was just a weird looking guy …but I got in some trouble down there. My …uh…habit got me doing things that I shouldn’t have done.” She took yet another look around the shop.

“There were these guys. They …I owed them some money for some Coke I took from them. They came to the hotel looking for me and he …he got me out of there. …I’ll never be able to forget what he did to them. It was horrible.” She stopped to wipe a tear from her eye.

“After that, we tagged along with each other. We kept on the move. His idea. He kept telling me that if we stayed in any one place for too long, the cops would catch up with us. We …we went from Atlanta, to Detroit, to Denver, and then finally here. Always running …” she faded out.

“Why did you settle here? Out of all those places, what was different about here that made it okay to stay?” I asked her.

“I …I …it was his idea. He said that we would be safe here. The whole time we were on the run, he had helped me with my habit. Always had what I needed. Once we got here though, he made me work to get what I needed. He made me …” she began to cry harder and could not go on.

I held her hand as she cried. We sat there for quite a while, my impotent anger growing with each passing moment. What a truly pathetic sight she was. My heart broke a bit more with every tear that fell.

After the storm passed I got up and gently pulled her to her feet. “Come on,” I said as I put money for the bill down on the table.

“Where are we going?” she asked tiredly.

“I have a hotel room across the city. I’m going to take you there, and tomorrow we’re going back to Boston.” I told her.

“Okay. Give me a minute, I need to go pee.” She replied, and headed off to the ladies room.

I waited by the entrance for better than five minutes before I went to check on her. I walked into the ladies room and found it to be empty. The small window on the back wall was propped open. “Damn it!” I cursed to myself.

I turned and ran out the front door and looked in both directions. She was nowhere to be found. I headed back in the direction we’d come from. I arrived at Mandy’s apartment to find every light ablaze.

I walked up the front steps and then over to her door. I was going to knock but when I touched it the door swung open. I cautiously stepped inside. The place a mess. All the furniture had been trashed. The coffee table was broken and the small TV’s screen was kicked in.

“Mandy?” I cautiously called out. No answer.

I crept through the living room and peered into the kitchen. That was empty too. As was the bathroom and the pantry. I walked over to the bedroom door and took a deep breath before heading in. The let out a loud creak as it opened.

As I was about to peer inside (pretty much expecting to find Mandy murdered.) I heard an unmistakable voice say “Jake my boy, don’t be shy come on in.”

I stepped fully into the room and before me stood Alexander, with Mandy lying on the bed behind him. I looked down at her tying to decipher if she was okay or not but he stood in the way so I couldn’t tell. I looked up at his smiling face and my blood ran cold.

“How?” was all I could think to say.

He smiled at me. “Jake my boy, lets just say that things aren’t always what they appear to be.”

“You told me that you couldn’t be here. That I could only communicate with you when I was near death. How can you be here now?” I rambled at him, still trying to figure out if Mandy was okay or not.

“There are many things going on here that you have no clue about,” he replied mirthfully. “You should go back to Boston and finish your part and forget all about sweet, sweet Mandy there. I’ve been with her since she left Boston and I’ll be with her tomorrow too. She’s mine now. I own her. My little toy.”

“What do you mean, YOU own her?” I croaked. My mouth was dry as sand.

“Her father gave her to me. And now she’s mine,” He cackled gleefully.

“Paul gave her to you? What are you talking about?” I asked not really want to hear the answer.

“Before they found you were in the hospital, he made a deal with me. He begged me to save you. Said he’d do anything for you to be alright. Sold his soul, if you will.” His manic smile grew larger.

“But you work for the Voice. Why would someone sell their soul to you?” I asked. My head was spinning.

“Jake, do you really think God would give someone like you a second chance?” he said plainly.

I was stunned. Could he be telling the truth? He had lied so many times before; I didn’t know what to believe.

Continued…….