EPILOGUE
Jerry
Tidying up the office couldn’t be delayed any longer. This place was a mess. If the guys from the IRS decided to drop by, we would be in deep trouble. I filed all the bills, at least those I could put my hand on. Mona helped me with the accounting, but she lacked rigor, so it soon became unmanageable. I heard someone calling me from the entrance door. Grunting, I lifted my stiff body out of the chair, and exited my office to meet a potential client. Business was good. Our expertise in the area of vintage vehicles brought a regular flow of customers. But it was only David, the postman, a regular guy who delivered our mail. I greeted him politely, and he handed me a bunch of envelopes. I thanked him and wished him a good day. Despite appearances, bikers had manners.
With my small package under my arm, I went back to my office, and threw it on my desk. I noticed one of the envelope was thicker than the others. Curious, I grabbed it first. Our parts orders were always delivered by carriers. Maybe Foxy had used the workshop address to have something sent to him. What an idiot ! One time, he had a big shipment of French wine delivered to the office. We had drunk one of the wine cases to teach him a lesson ! I’d still laugh, when I thought about it.
I opened the envelope, and realized no delivery address was mentioned in the designated field. How did David know it was for us ? But it was too late to catch up with him and ask. I would do it tomorrow. I felt something was off, and I didn’t like it. I put my hand inside and found a high-end phone. It was unexpected. Was Foxy involved in the traffic of cellphones ? I was about to put it on my desk, so I could give it to him when he’d be off for lunch, but I inadvertently pressed one of the keys, and I realized it hadn’t been turned off. If life had taught me anything, it was you should always listen to your inner voice, especially when it told you something wasn’t right. I grabbed the phone and saw the small envelope on the screen, indicating there was a new message. What was going on ? Did one of my guys forget it somewhere, and a good Samaritan felt obliged to send it back to us ? I still had to figure out who was the rightful owner, because it could be anyone of us. I decided to open the message, so I could return the phone. It would be a valid excuse to listen to a conversation that did not concern me. After all, I was the boss, and I wanted to clear up the matter quickly. This thing had just landed in my hands, and I had every intention to get rid of it.
The audio message said a video had been uploaded on the device. When I opened it, the caption contained only two words "For Jerry". I was stunned. Something was wrong, very wrong. I took a quick breath and played the video, wishing to get it over with. At that moment, I discovered the true meaning of hell. Its whole extent. I had to face its darkest and most bestial side. The devil spoke with a fucking Russian accent, and his victim was my daughter. I hadn’t cried for years, yet, at that moment, I felt like a little boy wearing big man’s pants. I didn’t even see Billy enter the office. I fell backwards on my chair, my heart squeezed by an excruciating pain that my entire lifetime wouldn’t suffice to erase.
*
I knew this corridor only too well. I recognized its aseptic smell, its old-fashioned paint, and its shiny linoleum. I walked heavily with empty eyes, a broken heart, and feeling my soul had been crushed. I knocked three times on the wooden door. The metal plate fixed on it still looked new. I did not wait for an answer to enter. I had more important things to do than to follow the rules of etiquette. The woman standing behind her desk was only a few years older than Joe. She was wearing her usual strict ponytail and her brown and beige uniform. As soon as she saw me, she jumped. Obviously, few outlaws entered her office of their own free will.
“Jerry Welsh ?” She said, her eyes sparkling, before walking round her desk to face me with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Sheriff Thompson. I need your help.”
She was speechless, and I was starting to regret my decision. But this woman was my last chance.
“We have to join forces.”
She looked at me for long seconds with her mouth open. Then, she pulled herself together. The Sheriff slammed the door behind me. We had a long conversation ahead of us, so many things to tell each other.
That day, I sat on the chair of an enemy, so I could annihilate another one, who was stronger and smarter. It had never crossed my mind that one day I’d be joining forces with a representative of an institution, I had been running from, for so long. I had no other choice. I had to do this. For her.
To be continued…