Family Issues Ch. 09

"Diana, please."

"I'm not an idiot. I've seen you looking at him."

"What?"

"Pretending again?"

Helen shook her head. She felt the first tear going up until it welled in the corner of her right eye.

"You're in love with my boyfriend. My boyfriend!" Diana raised her voice.

"Diana—"

"Say I'm wrong! Come on. Lie some more. You're doing great, by the way."

Helen bit her lip hard until she felt the skin break and blood gush inside her mouth. She then sat down on the bed, shaking.

"At least you're done with pretense. That's good. I don't really understand what your plan was."

"Plan?"

"You thought that at some point he'd dump me, and then what? Run into your arms?"

"Diana, I swear on Mom's grave that I never...Diana, please..."

"Kevin loves me."

"I know he does. He came back to you after you...I know he does. And I know what I look like. I know that life is not a Disney movie. The beauty never marries the beast." She pointed at her eyepatch and scar. "I also know that if you take Kevin's friendship away from me, I'll return to be who I was five months ago."

"What's that?"

"Lonely."

Diana's face softened for a second, but then she shook her head.

"Please, Diana, don't move out of the penthouse. I'll do anything."

"I can't, Helen. It's something that I should have done years ago."

"Jesus, Helen, you need Ritalin. I asked you to get the salt." Kevin chose that moment to appear smiling at the guest room's door. "It's—" he suddenly noticed the mood inside the room. "Whoa, what happened in here? You two had a fight?" He noticed Helen on the verge of tears and immediately went and sat beside her. "Hey, Valkyrie, what happened?"

Helen shook her head. She knew that if she opened her mouth, the dam would break.

"Diana?"

Diana faked a smile. She was boiling on the inside. Her loving boyfriend saw her upset and immediately ran over to comfort Helen. "Let's just go to bed, Kev."

"It's seven o'clock, and I have fish on the grill."

"Forget the stupid fish, I wanna go to bed."

"Nighty night."

"When I said bed, I really meant sex."

"Aha."

"Don't 'aha' me." She raised her voice. "I need to be balls deep in your sweet ass right now!"

"Do you want me to get you a mike and speakers? Because I think some people on the beach didn't hear you."

"Fuck 'em. Nothing wrong with wanting to make sweet love to my boyfriend."

"Are you drunk? Is she drunk?" He turned to Helen. "All I did was go and buy some fish. What happened in here?"

Diana started to say something when her phone rang.

"Not now, Ethan, I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"What?" she raised her voice.

"What?

"What?

What do you mean the same account?"

"Idiot!" she suddenly screamed. "How did...? I'm gonna shoot her, I swear Ethan, I'm gonna shoot her and you. People who are that stupid don't deserve to be alive."

"The fucking who?

"Jesus? Am I screwed, Ethan, did you just screw me over? That's it. I'm coming back tonight. Fuck it."

Kevin stared at her. "What happened?"

"Shit happened. I need to fly back home, tonight. I don't believe the idiots." She was pale with anger and something else. Fear. It was the first time that Kevin had ever seen his girlfriend afraid, and it shook him to the core. Diana grabbed her suitcase and tossed everything that was at arm's length inside.

"Diana, you're on vacation half the globe away. Can't the people working for you solve whatever crisis came up?"

"I won't have people working for me or a job in a couple of days unless I fly tonight." She paced back and forth until she stopped and towered over him. Kevin recognized the wild look on her face and shuddered. She looked like that when she was drunk or high, a moment before the violent outburst. "No. I gotta fly back. Get your suitcase; you're coming with me, Kev. Helen, if you want the car back, you'll need to drive us to the airport."

"I'm not going with you," Kevin said.

"Like hell!"

"First, I dived to one hundred feet, so unless you want to see me decompress nitrogen bubbles and die, I'm staying on the ground for the next twenty-four hours. Second, there is no way I'm leaving Helen alone here."

Diana's cheek twitched, and Kevin thought she might explode, no nitrogen needed. She checked her iPhone. "There is an Emirates flight from Victoria to Washington in less than two hours. Drive me to the airport, Kev."

On the way, he was too afraid of her seething wrath to press her for explanations. When they reached the terminal, she jumped out of the car into the dark without saying a word.

"Diana, don't go!" he said.

"I've got to go."

"Those people you work with. I don't know much about them, but I know they're criminals." It was the first time he'd acknowledged that he knew her new job wasn't all she pretended it was. They never spoke about their night in the angels' and devils' mansion. But then, they rarely spoke about anything. "Stay. Whatever it is, we can figure out a solution. You, me, and Helen."

"I gotta go, baby." She ran off into the dark, and a minute later she ran back to the car, opened the door and kissed him deeply. It was a desperate kiss, and it frightened him.

By the time he returned to the guest house, Helen was already asleep. Her pillow was wet. Her eye was puffy, and there was a dried trail of tears down her cheek. She'd fallen asleep crying. He kissed her gently, then sat down on the couch beside her bed instead of going to his own room. He lay in the dark for a very long time, staring at the ceiling and listening to Helen's soft breathing. By the time he finally fell asleep, the first rays of the rising sun had already crawled onto their balcony. The new day didn't bring relief or a promise of it.

---

"Love leaped out in front of us like a murderer in an alley leaping out of nowhere and struck us both at once. As lightning strikes, as a Finnish knife strikes! She, by the way, insisted afterwards that it wasn't so, that we had, of course, loved each other for a long, long time, without knowing each other, never having seen each other..."

― Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

----

Kevin scanned the horizon from the church's bell tower on Bled's Island. Winter went summer sale shopping in Austria, and it didn't go south of the Alps yet. The sky was clear, and the peaks of the Julian Alps to the north still had only little splotches of white on top. Below him, the lake's water glimmered invitingly. It was scenery worthy enough to lift any spirit. He gazed down at Helen sitting outside the island's restaurant on a small ledge facing the shore. She didn't touch the ice cream he'd bought, and she pulled out the book she was always reading since they'd started their vacation. She said she was too tired to go up the tower stairs, but Kevin suspected it was something else. No spirits were lifting—not his, nor hers.

Depressing silence enveloped them as the tourists' boat took them back to shore. Helen kept her head stuck in the book, and Kevin convinced the oarsman to let him take over the oars, though he watched Helen the entire ride. He had no way of knowing it, but Helen had been reading the same paragraph for the last hour. The words flew like little bees around her brain, bumped against her scattered thoughts, and didn't make any sense.

By the time they started walking through the souvenir stalls in Bled Lake market on their way back to the parking lot, the silence had become unbearable.

"Hey, that book you're reading," he said. "I think I remember it."

Helen lifted the book. Its title was The Master and Margarita, and the cover displayed a silhouette of a cat. The cover was partially scorched as if someone saved it from a fire.

"You kept it inside your letterbox?"

Helen nodded. "I had it in my pocket when I was injured in Iraq, that's why it looks like that. It took shrapnel for me. I've read it since then, every year. It's excellent."

"My dad's uncle fought in Korea. He used to show us kids a bible that he kept in his left pocket above his heart back in the days. Once an artillery barrage caught him in the open. A bullet hit his knee, and the bible was saved. Hallelujah, praise the lord."

A few days ago, his stories could make her laugh, but now she barely nodded. Kevin studied her, feeling the frustration lurch in his stomach. Something happened with Diana on their last day in the Seychelles. He and Helen still talked and laughed together, but something was broken. He tried to press her several times and only managed to push her further inside that lonely place she used as a hideout. Each time he did, he watched in frustration as she raised another line of bricks in her wall. It was up and running again, with guards and machine guns, the wall between them that they took so long to demolish.

"Andy gave you that book, right?"

Helen nodded.

"What was he like?"

"Andy?"

"Yeah."

"I heard a few thousand people showed up to his funeral."

"What does that mean?"

"It means people loved him. A man among men, fearless. Intelligent and charismatic. He was the kind of guy every guy wants to be friends with, and every girl wants to be much more than friends with. "

Kevin felt a pang of envy. "Did he know?'

"What?"

"That you loved him."

She scanned his face for a second and then gazed out at the lake. "Whoever said I did?"

"Come on. You never admitted to it in your letters, but it's loud and clear in every line you wrote."

Helen was quiet for a long time. "He might have suspected," she finally said. "He wasn't stupid."

"Why didn't you ever, you know, hint? Tell him?"

"To what end? Andy could have had any girl he wanted. He wasn't interested in a six-foot futanari lump."

"How do you know?"

She shrugged.

"You should have gone for it anyway."

"Just to have my heart broken?"

"Just to know the truth. Now you'll never know."

"Kevin, I..."

"What?" He stopped walking.

"There is something..." She started and choked. She couldn't tell him how she felt. They'd be back home in a few days, and Diana was going to take him from her. Maybe they'd see each other from time to time, but she doubted if Diana would ever allow it now that she knew how Helen felt about him.

"Well?"

"Never mind. I'll drive." She took the rented Opel Corsa's keys from his hand. She had to occupy herself with something, to keep her mind off the harsh reality.

"We have a six-hour drive to Venice. Seven, since you want to take the detour through Triglav Park. I'm not saying you're a slow driver, Helen, but my grandma, may she rest in peace, was Michael Schumacher compared to you. And anyway, when was the last time you drove a car with a manual transmission?"

"Ten years ago. It's not something you can forget." Helen shifted to second gear, and the Opel screeched because she forgot to engage the clutch.

"Good luck," Kevin said.

"Thanks."

"I was talking to the car."

Helen couldn't help smiling, and that made his heart a little lighter.

---

"'I believe!' Margarita whispered solemnly. 'I believe! Something will happen! It cannot not happen, because for what, indeed, has lifelong torment been sent to me? I admit that I lied and deceived and lived a secret life, hidden from people, but all the same, the punishment for it cannot be so cruel...Something is bound to happen because it cannot be that anything will go on forever...'"

― Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

----

Helen was a Sunday driver through and through. They cruised the highway at fifteen miles below the speed limit and caused an embarrassing traffic jam for several miles. The driver in one of the cars which passed them hollered, 'Where the hell did you learn how to drive?' Kevin reassured Helen that the man was jealous of her driving skill and wanted to learn too from the best. She didn't buy it.

To make things even worse the GPS went on a strike precisely near the quaint little village of "IhavenofuckingIdeaWhereI'mat," which made them take two wrong turns. By the time they cleared the long road winding down the green mountain pass going through the park, the sun was setting. Wisps of fog descending from the Alps to greet them.

Kevin's mobile hummed ELO's Evil Woman. "Hey."

"Hey, baby, I've been trying to reach you all day."

Kevin placed his phone on the dashboard. "How was your trip back home, Diana?"

"Long and hard. But the hardest part is you being over there instead of here, baby."

"You'll live."

"Speaking of which, I have a long and hard situation right now."

"You're on speaker, Diana."

"I know. Helen, cover your ears. Kevin and I are gonna have phone sex."

He thought it was too bad she couldn't see his eyes roll. "I get that the crisis at the club...?"

"It's still a crisis, but I'm on top of things."

"Great."

"You and Helen having fun together?"

"A blast."

"As long as you're not having an affair behind my back, I'm okay with that." Kevin could actually hear her smirk over the phone.

"No, we're just having sex. No-strings-attached kind of thing."

"Nothing too kinky, I hope?"

"I'll let you be the judge." Kevin said. "We have a foursome tonight with a dwarf and a circus rubber girl. Helen, do you think we still need to use a condom if she's a rubber girl?"

"I don't want to take part in this conversation in any way." Helen's fingers clutching the wheel were white, and she was driving slower with every passing moment.

"Okay, whatever. Just don't do anything naughty and come home ASAP."

"Sure."

"Love you," Diana said.

"Bye." Kevin pressed the End-Call button. He didn't have the energy for his girlfriend.

"It's nice that you two get along better now," Helen said.

"What?"

"It was cat and mouse during the first few weeks, and I felt terrible that I had a part in that."

Kevin stared at her, and Helen blushed.

"I...I feel that you two have reached some good point. That you're in a better place right now, you and Diana."

"Sure, we're like Romeo and fucking Juliet."

"Are you mad at me, Kevin?"

"Why would you say that? Hey, why did you turn right? The GPS says forward."

"I can't drive in this fog," Helen said.

"Want me to drive?"

She pointed to some lights ahead of them. "We'll find a room."

"We're six hours from Venice. Let me drive. We're gonna lose a whole day if we don't make progress tonight."

Helen shook her head and stopped near a sign that said 'Ciginj.' She rolled the car a few more yards in front of a private house. "Excuse me, sir," she asked an elderly man who was trimming his live fence. "Are there any rooms for rent around here?"

The man reminded Kevin of Old Tom, an aged neighbor who lived on the beach near the restaurant. Hard as the sea itself, Tom always seemed like he was one of its elements, like a wave or a seagull. This old man looked like he was carved from the old rocks of the Alps themselves.

"You're in luck," the man said. "I have one vacant apartment. It's five hundred meters down this trail, just above the river. You'll have a very nice view tomorrow."

"Great," Helen said. "We'll take it."

"I'll need your passports for the registration and one hundred and forty euros."

"One hundred and forty?" Kevin said.

"It's the honeymoon suite."

"We're just passing through on our way to Italy," Kevin said. "We don't need a honeymoon suite or a view."

"I see. It's still one hundred and forty euros."

"Did you know that our first lady is Slovenian?"

"She's from Svenica; it's two hundred kilometers that way." The man pointed east. "Maybe they'll let you sleep for free. Here it's one hundred and forty euros."

"He's trying to rip us off," Kevin whispered to Helen. "We're off-season. A two-person apartment is fifty to seventy euros, tops."

"I don't care," Helen said. She was emotionally exhausted.

----

"I do not know these good men," replied the prisoner.

"Is that the truth?"

"It is."

"And now tell me why you always use that expression 'good men'? Is that what you call everybody?"

"Yes, everybody," answered the prisoner. "There are no evil people on earth."

--Jesus and Pontius Pilate in conversation

― Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

----

The club had good vibes flying like electricity, but the current was made of love, or at least love waiting to happen. People were hyped. Diana had been the queen of clubbing once, but now she was an empress. She contemplated the mass of young bodies writhing below her, high on the crazy beat.

There was a lot of envy behind her hatred for her big sister, but also a desperate need to earn Helen's respect. To show her that she, too, could make it big. Bigger. She wasn't a businesswoman, but she knew what a good club should look like, and she had a ton of connections in the clubbing scene. She made the impossible possible. Two months ago, this place was dead; now her club was the go-to place on the weekend.

It was a double-edged sword.

Agent Brian Thompson was the whitest man she had ever met in person. A WASP wearing an ugly black suit and an ugly tie. He was in his late twenties, probably fresh from the academy. He was blond, had a baby face, and beautiful big blue eyes behind black-rimmed glasses.

He smiled at her as he climbed the stairs to her office, holding a cheap black bag under his arm. His handshake was good, not too strong, not too weak. He avoided looking at her cleavage, which was something most men couldn't.

"Ms. Brion." He nodded as he held open the door to her office, very gentlemanly. She couldn't help liking him a little, even though he was the angel of death.

"It's Diana."

"Ma'am?"

"Nope. No Ms. and no ma'am. Just Diana. Have a seat, Brian."

He nodded and smiled. Diana vamped to her tall executive chair, taking her time and allowing him a very thorough ogle of her peachy little ass. Since she'd become the club manager, she started wearing blazers and long-sleeved, knee-length dresses. Tonight, however, she wore a red mini. It was open in the back, all the way to the crack of her ass.

She heard him fidgeting in his seat and smiled inwardly.

In Money Laundering 101, step one is placement. Money can't appear in the financial system out of thin air. Pick a respectable business, like a nightclub. Let your dirty money mix with genuine hard-earned dollars, then deposit. Later it will be traded through many transactions, investing in Bitcoin and in countries that have a lighter hand on the banking system, until the newly clean money can be reinvested.

But you've got to be careful, because the opposition is not dumb. They've got their feelers out, searching for anomalies, like an unexplained surge in deposits. Don't be too greedy, was Suzan Owens' motto. Low-key is the key, because the wolves of the FBI's Financial Crimes Division were always on the prowl.

"I would like to reassure you, ma'am...sorry, Diana—it won't happen again. I would like to reassure you that there is nothing to be alarmed about. This is just a routine check; we do it all the time."

"Do I look alarmed?"

"No, ma'—" He smiled like a man who'd just avoided a close call. "But people usually feel a bit uneasy when we pay them a visit."

"A surprise visit?"

His smile grew wider. "Now if people knew we were coming, that would defeat the whole purpose, wouldn't it?"

Diana faked a smile. She'd known he was coming three days ago. Suzan Owens had her own feelers inside the FBI Financial Crimes Division. The FBI looked for patterns. Exceptional numbers of bank transfers, a business with multiple bank accounts for no apparent reason, or a newly acquired business with an unexplained surge in its financial flow.

During the past weeks, the club been pulling in over 30K every night it was open. One of her employees made a blunder and deposited the entire revenues plus the dirty money from Suzan, despite Diana's strict instructions. It wasn't low-key, and now she was screwed.