Home Free - Fern Michaels [98]
No one breathed as they waited for the door to open. The minute it opened and Mr. OO stepped into the room, Annie turned on the overhead light. “Surprise! Surprise!” they all shouted.
Owen Orzell froze in place, a look of pure horror on his face. “Who are you? How did you get in here?”
“You have to guess who we are. And we came down the chimney like good old St. Nick,” Myra said.
“Oh, sweet Jesus, you’re the vigilantes. I recognize you. I don’t have a chimney or a fireplace.”
“There you go!” Kathryn said, giving him a push that sent him flying across the room.
Alexis picked him up and set him on one of the dining-room chairs they’d brought into the living room. “Sit!” she said.
Orzell sat, his face mottled with fear.
Annie moved across the room to stand in front of their captive. “Now, listen to me very carefully, Mr. Orzell, because I will repeat nothing. We’re going to ask you some questions, and if you answer them quickly and truthfully, we will not peel the skin off your face and pour vinegar on said face. We might or might not push your ugly face into a salt box. After we give you your facial peel.”
“Please don’t hurt me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I knew this day was coming. Span said it would never happen, but I knew he was lying.”
The Sisters stared at the man in disbelief. “I can tell, this is not going to be any fun,” Kathryn muttered.
“Talk!” Myra said.
“Promise you won’t hurt me. I can’t stand pain. Blood, either. I get sick. You were joking about . . . about peeling the skin off my face, weren’t you?”
“No promises. We do not give a good rat’s ass if you can’t stand pain or blood or if you get sick. We were more than serious about your facial skin,” Alexis said, pulling out a KA-BAR knife and a bottle of white vinegar from her red bag.
Annie looked over at Myra and hissed, “So much for going out in a blaze of glory. This looks to me like a shoo-in. I was hoping for some fireworks.”
“I know, dear, but we have to play the cards we’re dealt. The evening isn’t over yet.”
“We’re waiting,” Nikki said. “How about this for a jumping-off spot? Tell us how a dead man can be living upstairs on the third floor?”
“You know about Joel?” Orzell said.
“And the staircase leading to the third floor. We also know about Jason Parker. Actually, Mr. Parker is snoozing on your bed as we speak,” Nikki said.
Something sparked defiantly in Orzell’s eyes. “Well, if you know all that, then why are you asking me?”
“Confirmation. Do not make the mistake of lying to us, and while you’re at it, wipe that smirk off your face,” Alexis snarled as she advanced with the fighting knife.
Annie perked up. Maybe that blaze of glory was going to happen, after all. She deflated like a pricked balloon when Orzell said, “Oh, God, please don’t hurt me.”
“Talk fast,” Kathryn said as she bent over until she was a mere inch from Orzell’s face.
“It was Span. He had a gambling problem. He was really good at ferreting out other people’s weaknesses and making those weaknesses work for him. I like to gamble, too. He saw me in Las Vegas once, and that’s how it all started. He lost over two hundred thousand dollars that night. Even if I was stupid, which I’m not, that put up a red flag to me. A director of the CIA does not make the kind of money where he can lose that much money in one night and not break a sweat.
“Eight years ago, about a year after Joel died, Span came to me, since I am the guardian of the CIA fund, and gave me a pitch about God and country and how this guy Jellicoe was going to single-handedly make the world a better place. It was a crock, but I went along with it. I was pretty down at the time because of my best friend’s death, but I know that’s no excuse. Jellicoe charged outrageous sums of money for his government contracts, which were numerous, but there were caps on those contracts. Span made up the difference from the fund I control.”
“Where does Jason Parker come into all of this?” Nikki asked.
“The monies in the fund just sit there. They are never invested. It’s like a never-ending source of money