The Tangerine Twelve
Part 11—The Final Showdown
I hadn’t given a blowjob since I met Ashley. Hell, I hadn’t kissed a man since meeting Ashley, or even thought about guys at all. And I definitely didn’t want to give one to a guy old enough to be my father. But if I put out for Sarah for nothing, I could go down on a old geezer in exchange for a multi-billion-dollar commercial empire. I needed him fully mine, and I wasn’t above using physical reinforcement to get it. And I’d learned some pretty impressive tricks with my tongue from Sarah and her people.
Having finished with him, I got up and checked. Sure enough, his eyes were empty, nothing but a glassy void. I zipped him back up and put him into a more professional pose. “You liked that, didn’t you, Mr. Kaiser? I know you did. Now, who owns you?” I asked him sharply.
“Mistress Cara,” he droned out.
“And who will be owning Kaiser Department Stores?”
“Mistress Cara.”
With a triumphant little smile, I went to the private bathroom in his office and changed into the navy skirtsuit and silver blouse I had neatly folded in my briefcase. “All right, Mr. Kaiser, time to go to the boardroom,” I said, and he followed me like the human sheep he now was. “Ladies, gentlemen, offer on the table is ten million for all assets, including the broadcasting arm and the private-label manufacturing plants in Asia,” I informed the board.
“Miss Jones, I’m sorry, but there appear to be a couple of zeroes missing from that offer,” one of the board members said. One cross of my legs and a few honeyed words were all it took for him to realize that I hadn’t misspoken. Some of the board members were more resistant than others, but I had Mr. Kaiser himself to back me, and eventually, of course, I got my way.
I wrote Mr. Kaiser a pretty little speech to deliver with the news of the sale. “Our target demographic has always been women. For fifty years, women of all ages have come to Kaiser Department Stores to buy what they needed for their families, their husbands, and for themselves. The low sale price ensures that all shareholders will retain the full value of their stock, and I’d like to reassure everyone that Kaiser will remain a publicly traded company. Miss Jones may have come into her fortune young, but she knows and understands the value of the Kaiser brand. I’m confident that she’ll maintain our intimate, small-business feel, not turn us into just another finger on the arm of a corporate giant.”
And then, of course, I gave my interview, and the stock price shot up fifty points from the excitement of having a fresh face on a stale brand. I guess I was just as good with the camera as I was with real, live people. That was good to know for the future. But in all of the excitement, I hadn’t lost track of the first reason I chose Chicago. Yes, it was the home of Kaiser’s flagship store, which I had already directed Keisha to start converting into our home base by turning unused offices and empty department floors into bedrooms. But there was an older debt to pay.
The cab I’d called pulled up in front of the building. I hopped in and gave him the address that had burned into my memory from the moment I first heard it. “542 West Kinsey Street, and step on it!” If the driver thought there was anything odd about a sharply dressed professional woman going to an Owl Bar, he had the common sense not to say anything. And he did go as fast as the car could take. I tipped him accordingly at the end of the ride, got out, and steeled myself for what I knew I’d see.
I saw it sooner than I had anticipated. Alisa was at the hostess stand, looking more like a bimbo than I’d ever seen her. Heavy makeup and ridiculous implants made her look more like a doll instead of a human being- which, I realized, was closer to the truth than I would have liked. Any bit of the Alisa I had known at Drew’s Discount Den had been obliterated beyond recognition and beyond repair.
And she wasn’t the only one. From the looks of it, every employee and some of the customers had felt some portion of Sarah’s handiwork. I kept my cool and pretended I hadn’t noticed who the hostess was- not hard, since there was no trace or recognition in Alisa’s eyes, other than the glint of a working woman who recognized money when she saw it. She led me to a table in the back, which gave me plenty of time to consider several options. For one, the Owl Bar was a lot more useful than I’d realized the last time I’d been in one. Bimbos had their advantages, which was why Tamara and Martha were setting up a better and stronger version of the device they’d used back in Miami. (Martha was already calling it the Pornociser 6000. Tamara was not amused.) Perhaps I could try to pry it out of Sarah’s hands... no, that would be too obvious, and if I wanted to confront her, I’d confront her, not screw around with her empire.
My waitress came, a brunette with implants so big that they looked comical. I’d done enough research on how Owl Bar waitresses covered up their after-hours prostitution to get Alisa to wait my table. “Burger, medium well, and that blonde’s making me think I’d like a butterscotch sundae for dessert,” I said as coolly as I could manage. The brunette got the hint and traded jobs with Alisa, who strutted over, palmed me her calling card, and swayed back towards the kitchen to put in my dinner order. So far, so good.
Famous last words. “Rosebud,” a familiar voice said mockingly behind me.
I hadn’t imagined that my final showdown with Sarah would take place in the darkened back of a titty bar, with the smell and feel of grease in the air. But we’d both come too far. We couldn’t co-exist, not with everything I knew about her operation, not with everything she’d taught me, not when Sarah knew how short her time was. One way or another, this would be our last stand.
She wore the same orange dress she had worn when I first met her, and her hands were clasped behind her back in the same patient way. But I knew how to ruffle that calm. “Too old to remember your own trigger phrases? It was ‘Cleveland rocks now shed your frocks’, but if you think I’d be stupid enough to leave a backdoor like that open, think again. Morgan purged those from us as soon as we left town. I don’t plan on using those. Beyond the cheese factor, once someone has been freed, they should always be free.”
“No, not your trigger phrase, although that was one of my favorites. No, you have everything you could ever want and everyone bowing at your feet, and yet you come back for her, like Kane and his sled. I knew you’d come. I’ve been waiting here all day for you. I could have taken her back to Syracuse and really reclaimed her for my own if I’d wanted to, but I have enough pretty faces for porn these days. Oh, yes, I went all porn with my ex-Candies as well as my Candies, while my loyalists get your replacements. Half a billion dollars and forty-five of my finest women- your freedom came at a high price indeed. And yet your little Rosebud is the most valuable thing you have.”
Damnit. She’d hit me where I lived and tied the score. Had to make her think somehow. “But how did they know his last word was Rosebud?” I countered, throwing a paradox at her that had made my head hurt when I took a history of film course at school.
But her lips quirked up in a smile. “Spoken like someone who’s never seen the movie. Dear Cara, the butler heard him just before he died.”
Oh, no. She wasn’t implying what I thought she was implying, was she? Or was she just trying to make me paranoid? No, anyone who’d come with me was completely loyal. Even if I had started the trip to Chicago with a mole, that night in the hotel would have changed her loyalties. “The butler didn’t know jack,” I grated out.
Sarah shrugged. “Lucky guess, then. What mattered was that it was his obsession, his guilt, his pride, the symbol of the one time and place he was really happy. It was the only thing he really wanted and the one thing he didn’t realize he already had until it was too late.”
Okay, screw the plot, because Sarah was getting a little too close for comfort. “He built his empire on turning away from the greed of his past boss and charting a new path for himself,” I countered.
“But how much did he really change? In that case, he might as well have stayed with his past and built a powerful future instead of dying alone and crying out for what he lost,” Sarah replied. She took a breath, and before I could counterattack, she took the offensive. “It’s not too late for you to come back. I’d have to put your mind on ice so you didn’t run, at least until I needed you, but with your smarts and business savvy, we could be equal partners- just not equal minds.” Her words conjured up memories of the most blissful times I’d ever known- not just because of the sex, but the friendship, the family... I found myself getting lost in her words, ad even though it hurt, I had to regroup and strike back.
“You’re bleeding that much that you’d take me back? Your cult must be failing if you forgive treason that easily. Of course. You’re losing control. I proved you weren’t strong enough to hold your people. The ones who aren’t becoming loyal to me are slipping out of your hands and becoming loyal to themselves. You can’t hide it. We’re both mind controllers. We both know the costs of the life we live. We dominate. We ruin. We destroy. We’re equals, Sarah, and I’ll never let anyone else be my mistress again.” And there it was, something I’d never felt with Sarah before- I hadn’t just slipped past her defenses, I had penetrated her thoughts. I was starting to take her over, the way I’d gotten inside so many other heads.
“If you consider blowing a sixty-year-old CEO mind control,” Sarah said scornfully, but she struck in panic.
“I blew his mind first. The body was just to ensure that he was as far under as possible. Hmmm... you and Andrew are about the same age, and you always said you were straight. Did you ever wonder what it would be like to be married, to be someone’s proud, happy, beautiful wife?” I let my voice grow soft, almost wistful, and Sarah was slipping badly. I could feel her beginning to fantasize about white picket fences and perfection in the suburbs before she shook herself awake violently and prepared to fight back.
“Men get so clingy it’s frightening. Isn’t that why you prefer girls? Or should I say women?” And she drew herself up proudly, daring me to look at her. I took the dare, and something stirred within me, a reminder that she was a beautiful woman, with the kind of presence that only maturity could bring. But it wasn’t anything I couldn’t shake off. No, she wouldn’t break my defenses that way.
“Ever eat out when eating out?” I asked, nodding at Alisa. Sarah tossed her head scornfully, trying to deflect the swerve, but it had hit her more than I had planned.
“And will you be any better? Call your Candies Crystals and wear gray and blue instead of orange, but are you any different? You’ve become one of us, a witch, a vampire, a Jedi, a crazy cult leader...”
The words were familiar, warming me like a favorite blanket, and it took me a minute to realize why- she was parroting back my first panicked questions at her, back when I didn’t know what I had or who I really was, only she was doing it with all the force and power she had in her. I could feel my eyes trying to close, and I let them, letting Sarah think she had won while I prepared my last shot. I knew if I did this right, I’d throw everything back at her that she’d tried to hit me with, and more. “Superior,” I spat.
Sarah’s hold on me broke with the feeling of glass shattering and flying in thousands of different directions. I could have stopped there, let her lick her wounds, retreat to Syracuse, and keep her boiler rooms going at a smaller size. She would have been satisfied with that. But I’d seen too far inside her mind. I knew what she had kept hidden from everyone, even herself, for so many years. I understood why white picket fences could send her so far down. Sarah had done a lot for me, and ultimately given me what I wanted most. It was only fair to do the same for her.
“You never stop feeling guilty about your first kill, do you, Sarah?” I didn’t look at her. I looked at Alisa instead. But I didn’t need to. The memory Sarah had been repressing all these years came back with a vengeance, and she collapsed to the floor without a sound. I was first to help her up, and when her eyes opened, there was no focus in them. Her face was dreamy, and she didn’t respond to poking, prodding, or pinching. She was off in another world.
Sarah Lancaster, mistress of the Tangerine Twelve, master corporate raider, boiler room owner, stock swindler, sexual predator, mind controller, was dead. But Sarah Kaiser, the woman who only wanted to be a good wife with a happy family, the overprotective mother hen who realized her true power when she told her fiancé to jump in a lake, was just being reborn and given a second chance for happiness.
“Rosebud, Sarah. Rosebud, indeed,” I whispered in her ear as I guided her out the door.