IN THE DARK, page 25
She walked slowly toward the lighted porch.
That’d be perfect, she thought. He sends me to himself with a note like this.
But would Mog live in such a place? It looked like the modest home of a middle-income family, maybe two or three bedrooms, nicely kept up, but hardly a mansion. Not the sort of place where someone really wealthy would choose to live.
And Mog had to be filthy rich, or he wouldn’t be throwing around so much money for the sake of his Game.
You never know, Jane told herself. Mog might live in a place like this. Or he might even live in a place like the creephouse by the cemetery—in his poem about kissing me, he called that miserable ruin his “lair.”
I kissed you here, I kissed you there…
Shaking her head, Jane jabbed the doorbell button.
Her heart suddenly began to hammer.
Everything’ll be all right, she told herself. Everything’ll be fine. Whatever goes on, it’ll be over by midnight and I’ll get twenty-five grand.
She flinched when the front door swung open.
A man gazed out at her through the screen door.
Of course, a man. She’d hoped, all day, that she might find a nice, pleasant young woman living at 482 Chestnut. But she’d known that Mog would never make things that easy for her.
This guy doesn’t look too bad, Jane thought.
Though barefoot, he wore an old pair of blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt that looked almost new. He was probably only a few years older than Jane, and had a fairly ordinary appearance. Though not especially handsome, he was certainly not the sort of drooling, hideous creature Jane had half expected.
Maybe this’ll turn out okay, she thought.
His expression as he stared out at her showed pleasant surprise.
“May I help you?” he asked.
Jane fluttered the sheet of paper at the screen. “I’m supposed to give this to you.”
“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows. Then he unlocked the screen door and swung it open.
Jane handed the note to him.
The door swung back and bumped against his shoulder. He stayed where he was, keeping it half open as he read the note. After a few seconds, he frowned at Jane.
“Who’s this from?” he asked, looking curious but untroubled.
“I don’t know. It’s signed M-O-G.”
“Hmm. I don’t know anyone by that name. Funny name, too.”
“I think it’s his initials.”
“Oh. You’re probably right.” His frown deepened. Apparently, he liked to frown while he concentrated. “I can’t think of anyone with those initials, either. This isn’t a joke of some kind, is it?”
“I don’t think so. He paid me good money to come here and be your servant till midnight.”
“Well then, you might as well come on in.” He pushed the screen door open wide for her.
It swung shut after she was inside.
The man closed the main door.
Wonderful, she thought.
“Would you rather I leave it open?” the man asked.
“It’s up to you.”
“The air conditioning’s on,” he explained.
“That’s fine.”
“You look worried.”
“I’m okay.”
“I could open it if you want.”
“Well…”
He reached for the handle, then hesitated and looked at her. “You don’t have accomplices out there, do you?”
Whoever he is, he’s a little worried, too. He doesn’t know what’s going on.
Unless it’s an act.
“Nobody’s with me,” Jane said. “It’s just what the note says. I’m here to be your servant until midnight.”
He looked at his wristwatch. “That gives us… just shy of two-and-a-half hours.”
“What would you like me to do?”
“Sit down.”
They entered the living room. Jane sat on the sofa, but the man chose an easy chair off to the side. He reread the note from Mog, then looked at her. “You’re Jane, I take it.”
“I’m Jane.”
“Do you know who I am?”
She shook her head.
“I’m Clay. Clay Sheridan.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Would you care for a drink?”
“It’s up to you. I’ll have a drink if that’s what you want.”
“I see.” He stared at her as if she were a strange animal that had wandered to his door.
Jane looked away. The room was cluttered, but didn’t seem to be dirty. It had a rather comfortable, almost rustic feel to it. On the walls were several paintings of woods and mountains. She found no evidence of anyone trying to feminize Clay’s surroundings.
What do you think, Mog would send you like this to a married guy?
And I suppose there’s no chance he’s gay, either.
“Do you live alone?” Jane asked.
“I’m not sure if I should answer that.”
“You don’t have to worry,” she said. “I’m not here to case the joint.”
“I hope not.”
“I’m not a criminal.”
“What are you?” he asked.
Good question, she thought. He probably figures I’m a prostitute.
“Your servant,” she told him.
“Uh-huh. According to the note here, this person feels that he’s indebted to me for some reason, and he sent you to me by way of appreciation?”
“Right.”
“Very thoughtful of him.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I guess so.”
“The thing is, I’ve got no idea who this guy is and I can’t think of anyone who might feel particularly indebted to me. I’ve helped people from time to time, but… I sure can’t think of anything I did to warrant… such an extravagant display of gratitude. It’s puzzling, you know?”
“I know.”
She thought about telling him, It doesn’t matter why I’m here. You’ll never figure it out, anyway, so don’t waste your time. Just go along with things.
Then she realized how stupid it would be to talk him out of questioning the situation. The more time he spent at that, the less time he would have left for making use of his “servant.”
“You honestly don’t know who sent you here?” Clay asked.
“No. He mailed that note to me in an envelope with my instructions and payment.”
“So, here you are.”
“That’s right.”
“Have you done this sort of thing before?”
For a few moments, she thought about how to answer. Then she said, “I’ve done errands for him. Never anything like this, though. He’s never sent me anyplace to be someone’s servant.”
Clay fidgeted and shrugged. “I hope you won’t take offense at this, but…”
“I’m not a prostitute.”
“Oh? Okay. I couldn’t help but wonder. This is really… out of the ordinary. Women just don’t pop in on me every night like this and… You’re definitely not a prostitute?”
“No.”
“But you’ve been sent here to have sex with me.”
So far, Jane had managed to stay calm, fairly detached. Now, she felt a hot blush spread over her skin.
“That isn’t what the note says,” she explained.
“Not in so many words.”
“Not in any words.”
He laughed softly. “Well, I suppose you’re right about that. But the implication is there. You’re mine to use as I please? My wish is your command? It sounds pretty obvious what he’s getting at.”
“I don’t think he’s getting at anything. He’s offering you my services, not telling you how to use me. That part is up to you.”
“And you’ve never done this before?”
“Never.”
“Has he ever… ordered you to have sex with anyone?”
“No. And he isn’t doing that now, either.”
“But my wish is your command.”
“That’s what the note says.”
“You’ll do anything I ask?”
“Ask and find out.”
He sighed. Staring at Jane, he rubbed his chin. “This is very strange.”
“I know.”
“If I just knew who sent you, maybe…”
“Knowing who sent me won’t change anything.”
“Well, I’d sure feel better if I found out it was some friend behind all this—especially if he’s the sort who enjoys a good prank…”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t consider this a prank.”
“What would you consider it?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. An opportunity? A challenge? If nothing else, you’re about to learn quite a lot about yourself.”
“That’s a pretty good bet, I guess.” Settling back in his chair, he smiled at Jane and raised his eyebrows. “How does Clay Sheridan, who thinks of himself as a good and decent fellow, behave when offered a gorgeous young woman to use as he pleases?”
Gorgeous. He just called me gorgeous.
Hmmm.
“Are you a cop?” he asked.
She couldn’t help but laugh a little at that one. “If I am, I don’t suppose I’d be likely to admit it.”
“Good point. I suppose I could search you.”
Oh, no.
“If I am a cop, which I’m not, do you think I’d bring along my badge for something like this?”
“I don’t know. I bet you’d bring a gun, though.”
Oh, shit.
“Maybe I’d better have a look,” he said. “Would that be all right?”
She tried to smile. “I’m your servant. If that’s what you want to do…”
“This isn’t one of those deals where I just get one wish, is it? Or three, or something?”
“There’s only the time limit.”
“Okay. Good. ‘Cause if we’re counting wishes, I’d hate to throw one away by asking to search you.” He got to his feet. “Why don’t you stand up and come around to the other side of the table?” As Jane followed his orders, he said, “I feel kind of awkward about this. I’d like to be able to trust you. You seem like a very nice person, and everything. But all this is so odd.”
“I know. I understand.”
She thought, I could pull the gun now and keep him covered till midnight.
But I’m supposed to do what he wants.
If I go against him, Mog’ll probably know it.
For all I know, this guy is Mog.
As Clay approached, she raised both her arms.
He let out a nervous laugh. “I’m new at this. Guess I was supposed to say, ‘Stick ‘em up.’”
“This is a first for me, too,” Jane said. “I’ve never been searched before.”
He stopped in front of her. He grimaced a little. His hands patted the legs of his jeans a few times. Then he moved his gaze slowly down Jane’s body, and up again. “Well…”
“Well?” she asked.
“What’ve you got in your pockets there?”
“You’re asking?”
“I don’t want to put my hands in your pockets.”
“I don’t bite.”
“All the same. Just tell me, all right?”
“You trust me to tell the truth?”
“Let’s give it a try,” he said.
“Okay. I’ve got my keys, a switchblade knife and a pistol.”
“A knife and a gun?”
“Just in case of trouble. Do you want to see them?”
He shook his head. “I’ll take your word for it. Do you have a billfold?”
“In my car.”
“So you don’t have any ID at all with you?”
“Not on me.”
“Are you wearing a wire?”
She let out a laugh. “You’ve gotta be kidding. You’ve seen too many movies.”
“I like movies.”
“So do I. But this isn’t one. A wire. Really.”
He looked a little sheepish. “I’m just trying to find out what’s going on, that’s all. For all I know, you might’ve been sent in here to set me up for something.”
“I don’t think so,” Jane said. “And I know I didn’t come in here with a hidden microphone. Or camera. But go ahead and search me.”
“I’m not going to search you. You can go ahead and put your arms down.”
She lowered her arms.
Clay stood facing her, looking into her eyes and not moving. He seemed very uneasy.
“So,” Jane said, “what now?”
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
“Don’t ask me, I’m the servant. You’re the one who’s supposed to give the orders around here.”
“You don’t have any suggestions?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Well, I have an idea.”
Oh, God, here we go. What’s it gonna be? Something sick. Mog knows what he’s doing; he wouldn’t send me to a nice, normal, decent sort of guy. Where would the fun be in that?
“Let’s call it a night,” Clay said.
“What?”
“Look, it’s been very interesting and I’m glad we had this chance to meet, but I don’t have any real use for a servant tonight.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Why don’t you just go on home, now, and I’ll go to bed, and that’ll be the end of it? That way, neither one of us will wake up in the morning with something to regret.”
Jane couldn’t believe at. “You mean to say you don’t want to… have me?”
“Not tonight.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know. It just wouldn’t be right.” With a smile, he added, “I don’t do servants.”
“You’re kidding,” she said again.
“Sorry. You’re very… attractive, but… I’ll have to pass.”
“Oh, man. So… that’s it? I’m supposed to leave now?” Jane checked her wristwatch. “It isn’t even ten yet. I don’t know about this. I’m supposed to be here till midnight. I can’t leave. If I leave now, I could lose a… a lot of money.”
Clay looked concerned. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Well, in that case, you can stay. And if you’re staying, you might as well go ahead and be my servant. Come with me, and I’ll give you some orders.”
He led her into the kitchen.
Jane tried to follow his orders, but didn’t know where anything was, so they worked together.
When they were done, Clay carried the glasses of Pepsi into the living room and Jane carried the big plastic bowl of popcorn. He said, “Wait, don’t sit down yet.”
Jane stood by the sofa.
Clay brought her a VCR tape. “Do you know how to load this?”
“Sure.”
“What are you standing around for! Do it! Schnell!”
She laughed and said, “Ja wohl.” She took the tape from him, hurried to the TV, crouched, and inserted it into the VCR.
Then they sat down beside each other on the sofa, munched popcorn, drank their sodas, and watched the video tape—a John Candy movie called The Great Outdoors.
Jane had already seen it three times before, but she didn’t mention that to Clay. It was one of her favorite movies. She was glad to watch it again.
During the movie, they laughed. Occasionally, they made comments. Jane held the remote control. She used it to rewind a few times at Clay’s command—particularly so they could take more time reading the subtitles that translated the awful things the raccoons were saying.
Clay never touched her.
At the end of the movie, he announced, “We still have some fifteen minutes.”
“Why don’t we take this stuff into the kitchen and clean up?” Jane suggested.
“Are you telling me what to do, servant?”
She smiled. “So sorry.”
“Anyway,” he said, “there isn’t much. I’ll take care of it after you’re gone.”
“So. What would you like to do for the next fifteen minutes?”
He turned toward Jane and stretched his arm across the back of the sofa. “I’ve got a great idea.”
“Shoot.”
“Tell me what’s really going on.”
“What do you mean?”
“My wish is your command, right? So here’s my command: tell me the truth.”
She wondered if she should.
Then she said, “Okay. It’s like a game, I guess. M-O-G stands for Master of Games. He’s pays me money to go places and do things. I don’t know who he is, or why he’s doing it, or why he chose me to be his player. I just know that each time I follow his instructions, I end up with a new batch of money and a new set of instructions. So I keep on doing it. Why not? It’s a lot of money. And I have my weapons in case anything gets out of hand.”
“Have you had to use them?”
“I had to stab a dog that attacked me. That’s the only time.”
“What sort of things does he have you do?”
“Things like come here tonight.”
“What else?”
“I don’t want to get into any of that. Okay? We hardly know each other. The thing is—as far as you’re concerned—I don’t know why he picked you for this deal tonight. Maybe he had a special reason, or maybe he just picked you at random. Or maybe you’re him.”
Clay grinned. “Mog? You think I might be Mog?”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Can you prove it?” Jane asked.
“Can you prove I am?”
“If you are Mog, I’d sure like to know.”
“I already told you I’m not.”
“But why should I believe you?”
“Why shouldn’t you?”
“Okay.”
“Anyway,” Clay said, “I think he must be a real jerk.”
“He gives me a lot of money.”
“Only a jerk would send a young woman like you to a man’s house with a note like that. Either he doesn’t care what happens to you, or he’s trying to get you into trouble. Either way, he’s a jerk.”
“And am I a jerk,” Jane asked, “for playing along with him?”
“You’re not a jerk.”
“Are you sure?”
“You can’t be a jerk. I like you, and I don’t like jerks.”
“Thanks.”
Clay looked at his wristwatch. “Five after. I guess it’s okay for you to go now. You’ve been a fine servant.”
