Deliver Me From Evil. Mary Monroe
2
Wade redialed the number to the video store, one of three that my husband owned and managed. Jesse Ray had worked hard to build his small empire, and he had taken me along for the ride. Not as an equal partner, but more like a paid companion. He never let me forget that it was his business, period.
“Woman, you are a lot more trouble than you are worth,” Wade shouted at me, giving me a cold look. “You better pray that your old man comes through with that half a million bucks. All this drama I’m going through, I better get paid! What the hell kind of fool did you marry? What kind of man puts his wife’s kidnapper on hold?”
“I told you, my husband doesn’t know I’ve been kidnapped,” I reminded.
“This is some … Hello? Yes, I need to speak to Jesse Ray Thurman,” Wade yelled, tapping the top of the telephone with his finger.
“Herro. This is Vlideo dwama.” The cute but heavily accented voice that answered this time belonged to Kim Loo, the twenty-two-year-old Korean woman who worked for my husband. Of all the people who worked for my husband, Kim was the most valuable. As his assistant manager in the main store, she was dependable, punctual, trustworthy, and smart. She even took care of all the accounting. Even though Kim was young and had some mysterious affiliations with the local Asian massage parlors, I didn’t worry about her working alone with my husband. She looked like a sumo wrestler and had the face of a mule.
“I don’t believe this,” Wade hissed. He glared at the telephone like it was a pile of shit. He glanced at his watch as I sat there, with my heart beating about a mile a minute. “I said, put Mr. Thurman back on the telephone.”
“Misser Turman busy,” Kim Loo said. “I happy to assist you. We are located at—”
“Listen, bitch, I need to speak to your boss!”
“Misser Thurman very busy,” Kim Loo answered in a shaky voice. In addition to the massage parlors, Kim had also run with one of the toughest Asian street gangs in the Bay Area. She was not a timid girl, but she sounded frightened now.
“Busy my ass. Look, china doll, you put that black-ass nigger back on this telephone right now, or I’m going to come over there and teach him, and you, a lesson you won’t never forget!” Wade warned, still looking at the telephone with disgust.
“Misser Thurman reely busy talking to his brother on other telephone,” Kim Loo explained. I was glad to hear that she no longer sounded frightened, but she did sound impatient. And under the circumstances, I didn’t know which was worse.
My biggest fear was that she would put Wade on hold for ten minutes or hang up on him altogether. Like Jesse Ray, she was probably thinking that this call was a prank or some disgruntled customer. But if Jesse Ray was on the other line, talking to his brother, Harvey, he knew now that the caller he’d just hung up on was not his brother. That gave me some hope. I was almost as anxious to get this “incident” underway as Wade was.
“Shit! I’m going to stay on this phone. You let your boss know that!”
“Who I say is calling?”
“Just tell him this concerns his wife and her whereabouts and her safety,” Wade answered with a smug look on his face. “You tell him that I’d like to make him an offer he can’t refuse. For the right price, he can have his wife back.”
There was some mumbling on my husband’s end and, suddenly, a sharp, shrill yell. I couldn’t tell if it was coming from Kim Loo or Jesse Ray. But the next voice I heard belonged to my husband. “This is Jesse Ray Thurman,” my husband said, sounding more serious now. “Who are you, and what is this all about?”
“You alone? And you better tell me the truth, motherfucker, because I ain’t playing,” Wade said in a firm and threatening manner. He no longer bothered to disguise his voice.
“Uh, something like that,” Jesse Ray replied.
“What the fuck does that mean? Are you alone or not?”
“Uh, my assistant manager is here … and a few customers,” Jesse Ray muttered.
“Get rid of them motherfuckers. Every last one of them! That chink heifer assistant manager, too!” Wade demanded.
“Please hold on—”
“Hell, no! Hold my ass! This shit has gone on long enough! You put me on hold again, and you won’t never see your wife again. It’s time to get down to business! Do you understand me, asshole?”
“Yes, I … I do understand,” Jesse Ray said in a hollow voice. He paused, and I heard Kim Loo mumbling in the background as Jesse Ray dismissed her.
“You get rid of your brother on that other line, too?”
“Yes, I did,” Jesse Ray said, then sighed.
“What about them few customers?”
“My assistant is taking care of them,” Jesse Ray said sharply, sucking in his breath. “Now who is this, and what is this all about?”
“This is about you getting your wife back and me getting paid.”
“Listen, whoever the hell you are. I don’t know what kind of scam you are trying to pull, but it won’t work on me. Now, whoever the hell this is, if you call here again, I’m going to call the police. I don’t have time to play games. Is that clear?”
“Motherfucker! You stop talking crazy! This is for real! We got your wife, and if you want her back, you’ll do what I say!”
Jesse Ray let out an exasperated sigh. “My wife is at the beauty parlor. I dropped her off there myself a couple of hours ago.”
I sat as still and stiff as a statue, looking from the telephone to Wade. At this point, Wade looked at me and pointed at me, then at the telephone.
“You know what to say,” he whispered, shaking a fist and giving me a threatening look.
I cleared my throat and closed my eyes as I spoke. “J.R … honey, it’s me,” I whimpered. “I’ve been kidnapped, baby, and I’m … I’m so scared.”
CHAPTER 3
“What the hell? Christine? Baby, what is this?” my husband asked in a low, steely voice. “Honey, where are you?” Jesse Ray was yelling now, and he sounded terrified. “Are you all right? Have you been harmed?” His voice was trembling so hard, I could almost feel it vibrating through the telephone.
“I’m fine … for now. Please do what they tell you to do,” I pleaded, with a sob. “If you don’t … they … they are going to kill me.”
“Shit!” Jesse Ray roared.
“Baby, go into your office so you can have some privacy. I don’t want Kim Loo to know what’s going on.” I didn’t plan on it, but I let out a sharp sob and a loud sniff. My tongue felt like it had doubled in size, and it was flopping up and down in my mouth so hard, I could barely talk. “Baby, I’m so scared,” I managed.
A few excruciating moments of silence passed, and I kept my eyes closed until I heard my husband’s voice again.
“I’m in my office now,” Jesse Ray said, breathing hard. He yelled for Kim Loo to hang up the other phone. Then I heard a door slam and a glass crash to the floor. “Baby, talk to me,” he bleated.
“J.R., don’t let anybody hear anything you say,” I warned, scraping my tongue with my teeth.
“They won’t. I’m alone in my office, with the door closed,” Jesse Ray said in a guarded tone of voice. “Don’t you worry about a thing, honey,” he told me, his voice sounding tired and raspy now. I could imagine how hard he was sweating. Jesse Ray was the kind of man who got nervous real quick.
“J.R., don’t call the cops. Don’t tell anybody about this,” I said, sounding as hysterical as one might expect