Deja poked her head in the doorway, eyes wide. “I ain’t tellin’ you that. You think I’m crazy?”
“You told me you have a daughter. At this point, finding her name wouldn’t be that hard. Save me the time.”
“You gonna hurt her?”
“Why would I hurt your daughter?”
“Why do you people do any of the things you do?”
Jamie put her hand on her heart. “I swear I won’t hurt your daughter.”
Deja released a loud sigh. “It’s Jada.”
“Great.” Jamie returned to her call. “Sidney? You still there?”
“Yes.”
“Start a fresh account with five thousand in it for her daughter, Jada. College fund. College transfer only.”
“Will do. I’ll see you in a couple days.”
“Great. Thanks.”
She hung up the phone, feeling Deja’s presence behind her before she spoke.
“Did I hear you put my money in some kinda college fund?”
“Yes. Sidney will get you the details on how to access.”
Deja’s eyes rimmed with tears. “You’re somethin’ else. I can’t figure you out at all.”
Jamie smiled. “No one can. That’s why I’m still alive.”
** *
Sidney Cantor took a town car directly to the Lowell Correctional Institution in Marion County Florida, weaving his way through the rural roads of Ocala. Beside the car, a black stallion galloped across a green field, tossing his shimmering mane as the sun glistened on his ebony back.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” asked the woman beside him in the back seat.
Sydney grunted. “No.”
He didn’t understand why anyone would want to live in horse country. The place was infested with horses. Who wants to be around horses all day? Big dirty beasts. He sniffed, the thought of hay and dust making his nose tickle.
The driver pulled into the prison lot and parked.
Sydney tapped the woman’s leg. “Ready?”
She nodded, a tight smile on her lips.
They exited the vehicle and headed into the prison. After suffering the usual amount of security screening, he and his associate were allowed into the warden’s office and ushered to take a seat across the desk from the man himself.
“Shut the door, will you, Tracy?”
The warden’s personal assistant nodded and closed the large oak door behind her as she left.
“Warden Billet,” said Sydney, stretching out a hand to shake.
The warden eyed his offer and chose not to extend his own. Unfazed, Sydney smiled and sat.
Billet moved his attention to the woman, who sat beside Sydney, her attention locked on her lap.
Sydney tapped her thigh with his knuckle. “Chin up.”
She lifted her head. “Sorry.”
“No apologizing.”
“Right. Sorry—I mean, got it.”
“How can I help you?” The warden spoke to Sydney, but Sidney could see the man couldn’t pull his eyes off his companion.
Sydney smiled. “I have a proposition for you.”
Billet waved him silent and motioned to the woman. “Hold on. I’m sorry. Why does she look so familiar? Are you an actress? Are you planning to film a movie here?”
“No,” said Sydney, answering for her.
Billet’s eyes widened and he pointed at the woman. “Ooh, I got it. The Puzzle Killer. Is that what the movie is about? Is it a Dateline?”
Sidney raised a hand to place it on the woman’s shoulder.
“This is Jamie Moriarty, The Puzzle Killer,” he said.
Billet laughed. “I can see. You picked a great actress to play her. Looks just like her, but for the dark hair.”
“You don’t understand. I mean this is Jamie Moriarty. Starting today in about,” Sydney looked at his watch. “half an hour, give or take.”
The warden’s back straightened, though not enough to give him the illusion of true height. “What are you saying? Are you suggesting I swap this woman with Jamie Moriarty?”
“More than suggesting.” Sydney turned to the woman. “Take off the wig.”
His companion removed her dark bob and Billet sucked in a breath as she fluffed the blonde hair underneath.
“Dead ringer.”
“That’s the idea,” said Sydney.
Billet’s eyes flashed with anger. “If you think you’re gonna—”
Sidney lifted his briefcase from the floor and placed it on his lap as the warden raged. The locks snapped open and he retrieved a phone. After fiddling with the buttons, he placed it on the desk and pushed it toward the warden.
Billet fell silent, seemingly mesmerized, as if Sidney were a magician, laying out a card for choosing.
With a flourish, Sydney motioned to the phone. “If you could just hit play.”
Billet snapped out of his trance. “What? Are you out of your—”
Sidney leaned forward and hit the live feed’s play arrow. A young girl appeared on the screen.
“Daddy? They told me to talk to you. I don’t know what to say...”
Sidney watched Warden Billet’s cheeks wash alabaster. The man lifted a shaking hand to pick up the phone as his daughter prattled on about the ice cream the nice man had given her to eat.
“Right now she’s eating ice cream, but things could get much worse,” said Sydney.
Billet looked up. “Where is she?”
“Where she is, is perfectly safe, for now.”
Billet’s forehead shone with sweat. “You can’t do this. It won’t work.”
Sidney motioned to the woman. “Hundreds of hours of prep and ten hours of plastic surgery disagree.”
Billet turned his attention to the woman, as if he could plead his case to her.
“Why would you do this? Why would you agree to serve that monster’s term?”
Sydney didn’t allow her to answer. “She won’t serve for long. She has cancer. She’d like to use your free hospital services and then die, quietly. After that, no one will ever be able to question you about this.”
Billet remained locked on the woman. “You’re doing this for free hospital care?”
Sydney sighed. “Don’t be stupid. Her family will be paid. She’s doing this for her family, the same way you’ll be doing this for your family.”
