John Locke - Wish List

Chapter 16

Buddy didn’t know me as well as he thought.

After snapping his neck I drove his body to my former headquarters in Carroll County, Virginia, and told the medical team that Buddy Pancake’s body was racked with a mutated AIDS virus that had been contracted through sexual intercourse with a woman who had received a treatment that was said to cure AIDS. I suggested that by performing detailed tests on his body, they might be able to backtrack their way into a cure for AIDS. It was a long shot, but what the hell. Buddy’s life might as well stand for something positive.

I spent the night in my old bunk at Sensory. The next morning I put Buddy’s wallet, clothing, lower jaw, and personal effects in plastic bags, stuffed the bags in a big laundry bag, and headed back to the Richmond airport. From there I flew by private jet to Cincinnati, where I met my old friend and sometime employer, Sal Bonadello, crime boss for the Midwestern United States. Sal charged me a hundred grand to fake Buddy’s death in a convincing way. Then I rented a car and drove to Louisville, broke into Buddy’s garage, gathered up his million dollars, and took it back to Cincinnati. Caught another private flight back to Chicago, and got a good night’s sleep.

A few weeks after Buddy’s funeral, I had Callie Carpenter pay a visit to Lissie and present her with a check for a million dollars. Sporting the credentials of a real, live insurance executive, Callie explained that this sum represented the proceeds from an accidental death policy Buddy had quietly taken out years ago.

“This check is from an attorney,” Lissie said.

“We always escrow the funds with a law firm while we investigate our claims. It shows good faith on our part, and makes a difference in the courtroom if a claim is denied.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say,” Lissie said, “except to thank you, and your company. As I said, I didn’t even know about the policy until you called.”

“It’s a shock to you, but we see this happen all the time,” Callie said.

The attorney didn’t exist, but the account did, and Lissie was happy enough with the unexpected windfall not to dig too deeply into the details. I mean, would you?

Buddy had always been a loose cannon and I should have known from the beginning that saving him was a lost cause. I owed his sister Lauren big time, but I think even she would agree that her brother was a toad of a man.

He did have great taste in women, though.

Jinny Kidwell?

Are you kidding me?

And Lissie?

Wow!

Epilogue

Although Victor’s people came through for Jinny Kidwell and administered the serum, it didn’t take. She’s no longer with us, as you know (unless you’re from another galaxy). Even then you’d know, since her funeral was beamed to space satellites and viewed by more than a hundred and ninety million people around the world.

She’s now known as “The Face of AIDS,” and her posters can be found at every rally.

The doctors at Sensory were unable to extract anything useful from Buddy’s body to produce a cure for AIDS, and the disease has now surpassed bubonic plague to become the fifth leading epidemic in the history of the world.

Buddy has been dead for six months, and Lissie finally decided to move on with her life after meeting a great guy at the local community college where her support group meets every Tuesday night. His name is Matt Pike, and weeks into the meetings, when they finally got together for coffee, he somehow managed to rekindle feelings inside her that had been dormant since Buddy passed. He’s not only handsome and charming, he seems to know her every thought and emotion, which he proved by allowing their relationship to progress at a comfortable pace. He’s a keeper, the most thoughtful man she’s ever met. I know all this because I listen in on her phone calls.

Last Tuesday Lissie finally agreed to meet Matt for dinner tonight at Z’s. I worry what he might try to do afterward, when he brings her back home. She’s vulnerable and he’s smooth, a bad combination. Lou Kelly performed an extensive background check on him and everything came back clean. Moreover, Matt seems to be a decent guy. Still, I wonder if I should have let things get this far.

One of the things Lissie and her friends like best about Matt is that he’s not in a rush to get her clothes off.

I like that about him too, and I hope that trend continues.

But I worry.

He’s a man, and like I say, she’s vulnerable. So I’ll be watching their every move from my command center in Lissie’s attic. This afternoon when Lissie came home, I saw that she’d bought several sets of sexy bras and panties. I watched her try them on, watched her check herself out in the mirror. She’s looking fine and knows it, and I’m happy for her.

I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. This isn’t voyeurism. Sure, I’ve seen Lissie naked hundreds of times while living in her attic these many months. But that’s not why I’m here. Not entirely.

I originally moved in because I wanted to keep an eye on Lissie, to make sure none of the Wish People came back to bother her. I was particularly concerned about Rudy and Perkins, the limo driver. These two would know Lissie was alone, and I couldn’t bear to leave her unprotected. I knew going in that Victor’s people had installed a number of high-quality pinhole cameras in the ceilings, but I expanded the grid to cover every square inch of the premises.

And I’ve watched over her ever since.

To, you know, make sure she was safe.

But over the days and weeks that followed, I found myself becoming more and more attracted to this precious creature. The hardest part was watching her cry herself to sleep every night, knowing her tears were being wasted on a hapless loser like Buddy. But grief is something that has to run its course, so I spent those nights lying on the attic floor, ten feet above her bed, wishing there was something I could do to comfort her.

Then Matt came along. In many ways, he’s been her salvation.

But again, I worry what might happen.

I’m depraved. Victor and Hugo are possibly worse, Rachel’s crazy, Nadine’s a mercenary skinflint, Rudy, Perkins and Sal Bonadello are gangsters, Lou Kelly’s a killer, Pete was a philanderer, Jinny was morally bankrupt, Buddy was slime, and his old, lonely neighbor shits himself.

The point is I don’t get to meet many saints in my line of work.

But Lissie’s one.

How Buddy managed to win her is beyond my ability to comprehend, but it puts me in mind of something my grandfather once said: “A woman’s love is like the morning dew. It’s as apt to settle on a horse turd as it is a rose.”

Rudy surfaced.

He showed up at Lissie’s a couple nights ago. I saw him casing her house from across the street for over an hour. I didn’t do anything about it. “Live and let live,” I always say. In fact, I didn’t kill him until he tried to enter through the garage.

I’m here for Lissie. And for now, I’m allowing Matt to be a part of her life. I just hope he doesn’t do anything to spoil my trust.

There aren’t many sincere gifts a guy like me can give a woman like Lissie, though she deserves so much after what she’s been through. I’m giving her the gift of my protection, which of course is insignificant compared to what she gave Buddy.

She gave him her love.

What greater gift can anyone give?

Table of Contents

Prologue

Introduction

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue