Eventually, she saw me and headed in my direction. She smiled like she caught me unaware. This was the difference between an amateur and a professional. In magic, it was marked by the outs. I never screwed up a trick, even if it didn’t come out they way I had originally intended. No matter the situation, I had an out. But then, I’m a professional. An amateur, they have no outs. They only have one way to do something and if things don’t go as planned, well, that’s when the fur starts to fly. And I didn’t want that to happen. Not yet at any rate. So I fought my instinct and closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. It wasn’t often Vegas had that wet smell permeating the air. I concentrated on breathing and stood my ground, letting her do this her way. I didn’t want her thinking she had no other options. Without options this wouldn’t turn out well for anyone.
She walked up to me and stopped a foot away. Her head tilted up to look me in the eye. Her face was illuminated by the distant glow of the basketball court lights. Where we stood, by the picnic tables, was meant only for daytime use.
“Hi, Remy,” she said.
I nodded. I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. I had some ideas as to what she was doing here, I knew she was looking for me, but there was no sense diving in when I didn’t know how deep the water was.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
I nodded again. Magic is all about what the mark thinks they see, not what really happens. So one secret to a great trick, then, is knowing when to talk and when to let the audience make the connections for themselves. This was the latter. Whatever was really happening was secondary to whatever Raven thought was happening, and since I wasn’t sure of either, I kept my mouth shut.
“Things have gone a bit pear shaped,” she laughed nervously. Her eyes reflected the far-off light, giving them a depth they didn’t actually possess. It made her look thoughtful and contrite. I didn’t buy it. Not for a second.
“Do tell,” I countered.
“I fucked up.”
“That much I know. I was there for that part.”
“No. After that.”
“There was an ‘after’?” Now we were getting somewhere.
“I thought everything was clear.”
“Everything was clear. All you had to do was walk out of the building without touching anything. If you could have done that, walked past the pretty rocks and kept your hands to yourself, everything was clear. But you couldn’t do that, could you?”
The tears streaming down her face glistened in the half-light. “How was I supposed to know they were counted? They were just there, sitting out, like fruit in a bowl or a candy dish at the dentist’s office. How could they miss a couple?”
“I told you they’d miss them, that’s how you were supposed to know.” I shook my head in disgust. I had trusted her with my secrets but she couldn’t control herself, and now... I stopped. I still didn’t know why she was here. If they wanted me, she would have taken me out already. Or at least she would have tried. I wouldn’t have let her get close if I didn’t think I could protect myself, but they would have known that. That was why I let myself get caught. I figured she was just a messenger doing what it is messengers do. I would listen, nod wisely, and then dispose of the body.
I wasn’t prepared for this. It seemed like she was asking me for something but wouldn’t come right out and say it. And I couldn’t parse it.
A plane went by overhead. I didn’t dare look up, not with her standing so close. But she couldn’t resist — she glanced at the underbelly. I knew she would and now I had a decision to make with not much time to make it. I opted for the safer of my two choices and stepped in toward her. I closed the distance between us and reached out with my left hand to grab her right arm. Pulling quickly, I spun her around and into me. My right arm wrapped around her chest while my left continued to hold her arm tight behind her back. To anyone walking through the park now, we looked like two lovers enjoying the nighttime amenities of the dark and the grass. I held her and placed my face close to hers, peaking over her shoulder like an evil Jiminy Cricket. We’d held this position many times before under much more pleasant circumstances. I breathed in deeply, letting her scent carry me back in time, just for a moment. My mind wandered old, worn pathways of almost forgotten emotion... but my hands held firm. I resisted the temptation to kiss her. Almost.
“Remy,” she pleaded.
“What did you do?”
“They found out.”
“They were diamonds, for god’s sake. Their diamonds.”
“But that’s all.”
“Those little rocks are money and blood and power and energy. They are never ‘that’s all.’”
She turned her head just enough. Our lips were barely separated. Our cover was a breath away from becoming reality. “Remy.”
My arms instinctively tightened around her, a Pavlovian response to her whispering my name, at least that’s what I told myself.
“You’re hurting me.”
“What did you do, Raven?” She smelled good. I could taste her scent on the back of my tongue. Jasmine and honey and the wetness of the air all mingled as I looked into her eyes. I didn’t want to let her go. I didn’t want her to stop hurting. I didn’t want her. “Why are you here?” I held her tighter. She clenched. Her body’s weight seemed to rest on my arm. Her eyes flinched but they never left mine.
“I need you. I need your help.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re the only one who can make me disappear.”
I faltered and relaxed my grip. She started to fall forward. I caught her and lowered her to the ground. She wasn’t going anywhere and I knew she wasn’t an immediate threat, so I lit another cigarette. She needed time to breathe. My coffin nail would give it to her. The smoke and nicotine I sucked deep into my lungs took her scent with it. She peered up at me and I knew I had to look away. In the distance, a late-night pickup game of basketball was just getting started. I watched the “skins” beat the “shirts” until I had smoked down to the filter.
In the silence, she had decided to tell me everything. I could feel her move around, turning so her back rested against my legs. Neither of us looked at the other anymore, yet I didn’t know if we’d ever been closer. The first time I kissed her had been here, at the park. And the second. It held memories of us in the blades of grass and the pocket knife — carved picnic tables. It felt like the park was reclaiming us for its own.
“They caught me.”
“And sent you to get me.”
“No!”
I turned at the urgency of her denial.
“No,” she continued, softer, still staring off into the distance. “They don’t know about you. They asked but I didn’t tell them.”
“I’m sure they did more than ask.”
“I got away.”
I didn’t want to know what she did to get away or what it cost her. It wasn’t any of my business. What was my business was what she was doing here and why she needed me to make her vanish. Her motives were crystallizing in my mind. She hadn’t told them about me. No matter that by giving them my name, she would have been in the clear. She could have simply looked them in the eye, told them “Regal Remy” had done it, had orchestrated the whole thing, given back the diamonds she stole, and her path would have become miraculously unblocked. Of course, as penance, they could have sent her to get me, which is exactly what I figured had happened.
Evidently, I was wrong.
She stood up and took my hand, leading me toward the trout-stocked lake in the middle of the park. It was a favorite for late-night lovers, consummating passions under the watchful eye of the Easter Island statue ensconced on a spit of land in the center. Our illusion was complete.