The Black Coats Page 12
Thea was already packing up her books, avoiding his gaze. “I know. It’s stupid, I just have to see this commitment through.”
Drew stood awkwardly, his movements betraying his quiet anger. “Thea, I’m trying to be cool about this, I really am, but we were supposed to have today together.”
The hurt in his voice gave her pause. “I know.” She took his wrist and dropped her head in frustration. “I really don’t want to leave you. That kiss was just getting good.”
He shook away from her. “It was, and still somehow I don’t entirely believe you.” He looked into her eyes. “I can tell you want to go, you know.”
It was impossible, and yet Thea did. She wanted to be both with him on that blanket and in the car with Team Banner. She raised up on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his sunburned nose before wrapping both arms around his neck. “We should probably head inside anyway; you’re getting sunburned.” She kissed him softly. “Tell me how I can make it up to you.”
He sighed, pressing his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “Okay, but you’ll be sorry you asked. Come meet my dad sometime soon? He’s been asking about you, and I’ve been putting it off, but he’s getting annoying and also”—he swept her up in his arms, lifting her off the ground and resting his forehead against hers—“I really, really like you, Thea Soloman, you with the mysterious side job restoring Edwardian furniture.”
“Victorian houses,” she whispered, “and the feeling is mutual.”
Team Banner could wait for a few more minutes, she figured, and she pressed her mouth to his for one last taste of sunshine before she began her descent into the electrifying dark.
The target’s name was Jonathan Samper, and he worked at an upscale farm-to-table eatery called Pear, near downtown Austin. They parked Mirabelle’s car outside the restaurant right before closing time.
“They are going to hate us. People who come to restaurants right before closing are the worst,” muttered Louise.
Casey shook her head. “Only you would worry about being polite during a Balancing.” She turned to Thea. “Do you have everything?”
Thea nodded, pulling a tiny black vial out of her pocket. “One powdered dose of Rohypnol, generously supplied by the luminaries.”
According to their Balancing sheet, twenty-one-year-old Jonathan Samper had been accused of drugging and date-raping not one but two of his girlfriends. Because they didn’t go to the police immediately, there was no physical evidence to charge him. He remained in good standing both at school and at work, while the two women he raped suffered the shame of their reputations. That was all about to change.
Team Banner was dressed nicely today; under their Black Coats they each wore a dressy outfit to blend in at Pear. A bunch of girls all dressed in head-to-toe black would have drawn attention, and that was the last thing they needed.
“This is on Mademoiselle Corday, right?” asked Casey, standing at the door. “I looked at the menu last night and it’s pretty pricey.”
Thea nodded. “Yes, but don’t go crazy. No duck. Sandwiches all around.”
“Or salads!” suggested Mirabelle cheerfully.
Thea’s fingers curled around the vial in her dress pocket. She was nervous, and the setting sun was beating down on her coat. She couldn’t stop seeing Drew’s disappointed face in her mind. “Let’s do this, Team Banner.”
The meal was quite delicious and the company divine. Even when they were on a Balancing, Thea was surprised by how much she loved hanging around these girls. They watched with careful eyes as the restaurant slowly cleared out, and soon they were the only ones left besides Jonathan—their waiter—and the bartender, who was glued to his phone. Thea signaled to Mirabelle, who raised her arm in the air. Jonathan zipped over to her side, his eyes on her chest.
“Hi.” She casually laid her hand on his arm. “We just need our check, and also I was wondering: Would you want to have a drink with us? We’re celebrating our friend’s promotion! It’s on us.” Jonathan’s eyes lit up as he took in the group.
“Yeah, I mean, cool! Let me go ask the bartender for a round. You’re the only ones in here, so that’s no big deal.” He practically hopped away, excited by his luck and Mirabelle’s attention. She tilted her head and smiled coyly.
He soon reappeared with bottles of beer for each of them, plopping down between Thea and Mirabelle. When Casey stood to go to the restroom, Thea used the sound of her chair to cover the noise of her popping the top off the vial. Quick as a fox, she dumped the powdered contents into her beer and gave it a swirl. Jonathan’s eyes were still on Mirabelle, who was telling a funny story about some people she had met on a bus. Thea then switched her bottle with Jonathan’s. When Mirabelle concluded, Jonathan reached for his beer. Thea was incredibly disturbed at how easy it was.
Thea raised her drink with a sexy wink. “Shall we go bottoms up? Maybe to sharing things?”
Team Banner watched with smiles on their faces as he finished the last of it.
Thirty minutes later, Jonathan Samper lay across their legs in the back seat of the car, his head on Thea’s lap. Mirabelle’s car hurtled forward on Highway 71, out toward Barnpiper Park: a thirty-three-acre plot of land that included playgrounds, camping sites, and a big patch of woods right at its center. Getting him there was easy: the drug rendered the taker compliant, incapable of resisting. It also produced a sort of amnesia, which was what made Rohypnol the drug of choice for men like Jonathan.
He was conscious, but only partly. He was quite attractive, with thick black hair combed back from a handsome face combined with strong eyebrows, flawless skin, and an earnest smile. Thea could see why women would fall so easily for him. Here on her lap he looked innocent, occasionally babbling on about this or that, but she knew he was anything but. In his drug-induced euphoric stupor, Jonathan was reaching up and touching Thea’s face every few minutes. She repeatedly slapped his hand away in disgust.
“How’s he doing?” whispered Louise.
“Drugged,” responded Thea. “I would almost feel bad for him were it not for the fact that he raped women who were in the same state that he’s in right now.” She lifted his head. “Jonathan, do you consent to jumping off a bridge?”
He nodded sleepily, his words badly slurred. “If that’s what you guys are doing.”
Thea’s eyes narrowed. “See? How can you consent in a state like this? The women he raped were like pliant children. That’s what the drug does.”
Casey gripped the steering wheel hard. “He’ll learn his lesson soon enough. We’re almost there.”
Thea checked his pulse again; it was strong. They had been lucky—sometimes people who were roofied became aggressive and excitable. That would have been a problem.
Casey slowed the car, and Thea watched as the headlights bounced off the visitors’ center at the Barnpiper Park entrance. It was almost midnight, and the park was closed and empty. They passed the playgrounds and parking lot and neared the curb where the park turned wilder, accessible only by a walking trail. Old ash junipers rose up on either side of them as the car moved farther into the darkness. Thea winced as the tires bounced over the rugged terrain. “Not too far in,” she said softly.
“Why?” snapped Casey. “We don’t want to make this easy for him.”
“We won’t, but I don’t want him to die,” said Thea firmly. “Remember what Nixon said: a Balancing cannot turn into hiding a dead body. What if he finds his way to the highway and gets hit by a car?”
“Or steps on a rattlesnake. Or walks into a river,” added Louise.
Casey braked hard. “If he had been as concerned for the women he raped as we were for him now, those girls’ lives would have gone on as usual. He’s in a park. After he wakes up, he’ll think he’s in the woods for about an hour or so until he makes his way out and is greeted by moms holding sippy cups.”
“This is my call, Casey,” Thea said firmly. “Drive in maybe another half mile.” She expected a fight but got none. Casey respe
cted her position and stayed silent. The car continued through the black night, the only illumination the car’s headlights rolling over the trees around them. It was as if the eerie stillness of the park had swallowed them whole.
“This seems a little like the beginning to a horror movie,” uttered Mirabelle, saying what everyone was thinking.
Casey gripped the wheel. “Yeah, except this time we’re the things people should be afraid of.”
“I’m not afraid of you!” crowed Jonathan, drugged out of his mind. “I think you’re my friends. You’re my best friends.”
“We’re not,” replied Louise, pulling her hair back. “You’re actually terrible.”
Thea sat forward as they drove past a long-abandoned set of wooden benches. “Here! Stop here, this is good. Yes! Let’s roll him out.”
Casey screeched the Audi to a stop. Mirabelle flung open her door and ran around to Thea’s side of the car. When she opened the door, Jonathan flopped over onto the ground, hanging his head. “I like you guys, but I don’t think you’re good.” He moaned, but when Mirabelle told him to get up, he did it so obediently that it made Thea’s heart hurt.
The rest of Team Banner climbed out of the car. “Walk over here, Jonathan,” Louise ordered. He shuffled his way over to where Thea was standing. He leaned heavily on Casey, who turned her head away from his alcohol-soaked breath.
Jonathan walked up to the park bench. “You guys aren’t leaving me here, right?”
Bea followed behind him, her voice low. “Jonathan, take off your clothes.” She raised a hand, but there was no need. Grinning like an idiot, Jonathan began unbuttoning his pants. Everything he was wearing fell to the ground. Bea spun and looked at Thea, her face reddening at his sudden nudity. Thea had a hard time not laughing at her teammate’s utter shock. Bea turned back to him. “Lie down,” she commanded, “and stay there.” Thea watched for a moment before raising her eyes to take in the incredible sky. There were no lights out here; the stars blazed so brightly that it was like she had never seen them before.
As she watched, a memory came, uninvited:
She and Natalie are camping out in her backyard, looking at the stars until they fall asleep. Their sleeping bags are huddled together, the girls whispering back and forth in an effort to avoid sleep.
“Do you think we’ll be safe out here?” Thea asks, worried about sleeping away from her parents.
Natalie takes her hand. “As long as we’re together and we have Alma, we’ll be safe.” They both look over at Alma, then still a puppy and lost in a pile of blankets, before bursting into giggles.
Thea blinked away the sudden tears. “Let’s head out,” she ordered, but the team didn’t move. Mirabelle was twisting her hair; Bea softly shuffled her feet on the ground.
“It feels weird to leave him,” Louise finally said softly.
Thea nodded, glad that someone had vocalized what she was feeling. She stepped forward, gathering the girls around her. “Look, at ten tomorrow I’ll call from the burner phone to make sure someone found him. I know he seems vulnerable and innocent right now, but he’s not.” Thea stepped over to him, brushing aside the lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “When Jonathan wakes up with no clothes on and no recollection of what happened to him last night, he’ll be as scared and feel as violated and confused as the girls he raped. That’s what happened to them; that’s what he did. And unlike his actions, we did him a kindness: we didn’t hurt him, though we could have. Trust me, Jonathan Samper has gotten a very gentle taste of what it’s like to be roofied.”
Without another word, she walked over to the car, popped open the trunk, and grabbed a piece of plastic sheeting. She threw it over his body. It was a warm Texas night, but she couldn’t risk exposure. Still, it was a mercy Jonathan didn’t deserve. After that, she walked over to a nearby tree and snapped off a small branch before turning to the red dirt in front of the bench. Then she flung the stick into a nearby bush and dusted off her hands as she climbed into the car. She found her team staring straight ahead, out the windshield, not speaking. “It’s done. Now, let’s hurry home because I have homework.”
“Yeah, about that . . . ,” Mirabelle started.
“No can do,” laughed Casey. “How about tacos instead?”
“I vote tacos,” added Bea. “And we need our entire team to get tacos, Thea.”
Louise spun around in the front seat to look at Thea. “Yeah, be the leader we need, Thea, not the one we deserve.”
At her intense expression, Thea burst out laughing. “Okay, fine. Tacos it is.” She looked behind her as the car pulled away, out of the park. In the light of the moon she could make out the huddled lump that was Jonathan and the message she had left in the dirt for him:
Roofie again and we’ll kill you.
She clenched her hands as they rolled into the night, ignoring the sharp sliver of guilt passing through her. Justice may have been delivered, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep much that night.
Fifteen
He didn’t know she was watching him.
That morning, while her parents thought she was over at Drew’s house, Thea had driven into downtown Austin hoping that she would see him: Cabby Baptist, the man who had killed her cousin. Two months of Balancings had made her quite bold; she had created some aliases to follow him on social media, hoping to find any clue, but his social media game was almost nonexistent. He never posted, and nothing had been gained. Except for last night, when a single picture of an oozing cinnamon roll popped up, the caption underneath it reading, “Will be eating one of these tomorrow!”
Thea knew exactly where he was talking about. Elizabeth’s Café in downtown Austin was famous for their rolls. She couldn’t explain to herself exactly why she needed to be there, but she did. She had waited for an hour and a half before he showed up, but her patience paid off: at 9:36 a.m. his white pickup truck puttered to a stop in the parking lot. Sitting on the hood of her car, Thea put down her own delicious roll and raised her binoculars.
She felt adrenaline rushing through her as she watched him; she hadn’t seen this man since the police station, and there he was, grinning at the young cashier like he hadn’t killed a girl her age nine months ago. Thea ground her teeth together as she watched him, elaborate fantasies playing out in her mind in which she smashed his head on the glass tabletops and dragged him into her trunk. She took a long sip of her coffee, her hands shaking just a little. He disappeared into the folds of the restaurant and was seated at a table where she couldn’t see him very well. Dammit. She wiped her hands on her pants and eyed his car. Maybe if she could jimmy the lock . . .
Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it with a sigh. A Balancing. Of course. She narrowed her eyes at Cabby’s car. I’ll be back for you later, she thought.
Mademoiselle Corday loomed above the trees as Thea parked the Honda in the driveway. The face of the house stared menacingly down at her while Thea trotted inside, buttoning her black coat as she went. Team Banner was lingering at the front door of the house, waiting patiently for her. “Hey, ladies!” She crowed.
They responded with silence, their bodies all clustered together in the foyer.
“What’s wrong?” Thea asked.
Bea finally looked up and motioned Thea over, her soft face drawn in with concern. “Look.” Thea made her way into their circle, where Team Banner stared down at their Balancing sheet lying on the entry table. When she read the first line, Thea felt her stomach drop.
TEAM BANNER, CODE EVENING
TARGET NAME: Raphael Amadoor
DATE OF BALANCING: May 9, 4:30 p.m.
OFFENSE: Mr. Amadoor is a well-known plastic surgeon living just outside of Austin. He is also a habitual wife and child abuser who has escaped the justice of law due to his high status in the community, as well as his connec-tions with corrupt law enforcement. He has been accused of beating two women at a hotel. His wife and daughter have recently fled Texas for the safety of Guadalajara.
&nb
sp; BALANCING: Please make sure that he is unable to hurt any woman ever again.
Good luck!
Signed,
The Black Coats
“Are we ready for this?” asked Louise, always so thoughtful.
“Hell yes!” snapped Mirabelle. “I’ve been ready for this for a long time.”
Casey frowned. “Me, too, in theory. It’s just . . .”
“Terrifying,” finished Thea, her hands curling around the paper, taking in as much information as she could. Some photographs slid out from behind the Balancing sheet: graphic photos of the marks he had left on his wife: blackened eyes, cracked and bloody lips, a broken nose, her face shaded in purple bruises.
“Who does this to another person?” whispered Casey.
Thea felt her fear dissolve into a churning anger. “Let’s pack up,” she ordered. Their supplies were already sitting by the door.
Thea dropped the Balancing sheet into a nearby fireplace and followed her team out of Mademoiselle Corday. Nixon was standing in the driveway. “Listen up, girls. The Balancings that Team Banner has been assigned so far have been specifically chosen for the nature of the man. Arthur, Jonathan, and all the others you have attended have been pushovers. These were set up so that you could experience a Balancing without an imminent risk of danger to yourselves. Men like Raphael are different. Be on your guard.” Nixon took a deep breath as she climbed into her black car. “As this is your first Code Evening, I’ll follow you there, but I won’t be coming in with you.”
“Do you want some company on the drive?” asked Bea brightly.
“No,” responded Nixon, slamming her car door shut.
“I could have told you that was going to happen,” deadpanned Casey. “C’mon, circus freak, get in the car. You belong with us.”
They rode in total silence, their thundering hearts swallowing all possible conversation.
Raphael Amadoor’s Mediterranean-inspired house sat on a high bluff overlooking a wealthy community just outside of Austin. Stunning views of the town below were visible from the portico in front of the enormous circular driveway. Casey pulled the car right up to the front of the house and parked. Thea leaned over. “You hacked the security cameras already, right?”