Jail's Bait: Time Served (Book 5)

The funeral crowd passed by the closed doors to the den where Jake crouched, waiting for the coast to be clear.  Yet each time he thought no one else was coming down the hall yet one more person was casually stroll by.  After five minutes with no further sounds in the hallway Jake took a deep breath, and slowly opened the door, peeking his head out into the corridor.

Suddenly he was shoved back violently, and he caught himself just before he dropped to the ground.  "Sacre-" he began, and then stopped.

Jacqueline, the supermodel, had rushed into the room, hurriedly closing the door behind her.  Faites taire votre petite bouche en ce moment (Hush your little mouth right now!), she spoke in rapid French.

They both went still as a pair of feet went by, and then silence.  Jacqueline leaned against the door, listening.  Jake opened his mouth but a hand went up from the woman to indicate silence.  In about two more minutes the sounds of two different sets of feet went past, and along with that came the murmurs of Lamar's and Malik's voices in conversation.  The sounds died away soon afterward.

"Okay, zey are gone," Jacqueline said then, relaxing somewhat, turning to regard Jake.

"Mama, what are you doing here," Jake said angrily. "Are you following me...?"

"Foolish boy," Jacqueline said haughtily, taking a compact out of her purse and beginning to examine her flawless features.  "I expected you to be at university, which I pay for you to waste your time in."

"Great-Grandpere pays for my school," Jake snapped back with just as much arrogance; "you were too busy at modeling shoots to pay attention to my education."

Jacqueline sniffed.  "Why should I bother myself...?  Grandpere sits on ze board at Berkeley, and you have all the freedoms you wish, ze best zat money can buy.  Why are you not in California...?  Why are you crawling about zis place?"

Jake chose not to answer this.  "How did you know I was in here?" he asked instead.

"I just happened to come walking past, and without warning saw my son's silly head poke from zis room," she replied, placing her compact back in her purse.  "You are lucky no one else caught you here."

"Why are you here?" he repeated stubbornly.

Jacqueline sighed.  "If you must know, Great-Grandmere was friends with ze dead butler.  She is unwell, as you know, and I came to represent her condolence in person."  She looked around at the shadowed, richly furnished den.  "Why are you in zis room?" she asked.

"I went looking around, and found something very interesting," Jake said mysteriously.

She waited, yet he offered no further information.  "So, what is it, sil vous plait...?" Jacqueline asked with a bite of impatience.

Jake gave her a smug look.  "Why should I tell you...?  Zis is my personal project."

"I'll tell you what you will do or not, or you will get cut off from your trust fund," his mother threatened.

"Sacré bleu...!  You cannot do zis to me," Jake cried in mock fear, his sarcastic smile firmly in place.

"Grandpere would ‘ave cut you off a while ago yet I managed to stay his hand," Jacqueline replied loftily.  "Yet my helping hand can also turn against you… so come clean or get cut off; it is, as ever, your decision."  She folded her arms and stared at her son.  "So we begin ze questioning again.  What is it you want in here?" she asked in her superior tone.

Jake scoffed at his mother.  "‘Zat is none of your business," he stubbornly replied.  "I am not scared of you, Mama."

"I'll tell you what is my business and what is not," she replied, scowling at her son.  "If I choose to, I could ‘ave you muzzled and sent back to France," she added, jabbing a finger into his chest for emphasis.

Jake stood firm, staring her down.  "No you won't," he balked; "you need me to finish what I've started here."

"You are here currently attending a les funérailles de domestique (servant's funeral).  ‘Zere are more important things ‘zat require your attention than ‘zat!" she whispered vehemently.

"More important than ze fact ‘zat my dear cousin got to live near his father and mine turned his back on me…?" Jake replied sullenly.

"Does my nephew Marquis not yet know ‘zat you two are cousins?" Jacqueline asked, her eyebrows narrowed.

"No, not yet – first I want to take everyone in his life away from him, so ‘zat he can feel ze loneliness as I did, with no friends!  Je veux qu'il souffre! (I want him to suffer)...!" Jake cried.

"Ooohhh, poor little whining brat; as if you've ‘ad ze worst life, living in a palace, with hot-and-cold running servants at your mercy!!"  Jacqueline pooh-poohed him.  "Shame on me for being such a mère horrible (horrible mother)...!" she added, the sarcasm rolling out in waves.

"Now, now, Mama, you know you were ze best… ze best mother money can buy," he smirked.

Quick as lightning she swung her palm to slap his face; he grabbed her by the wrist and yanked it down, pulling her face close to his own as she let out a small yelp of surprise.  "I am not five, Mother," he spit at her, "and if you would only calm down I will tell you what I ‘ave found...!"

They glared at one another for a few seconds longer, and then she relaxed her fist, and he let go of her wrist.  "Apologize for manhandling me like ‘zat," she snapped, absently grabbing her wrist to straighten the bracelets out.

Jake made a mock bow.  Im désolé, la Maman, me pardonnez-vous ? "(I'm sorry Mama; do you forgive me?)"

Jacqueline regarded him with an arch look.  "It all depends.  What ‘ave you found?"

"Ze keys to ze kingdom," he smiled maliciously, holding up an official document.  Written on the front cover in bold lettering was the following:

The

Last Will & Testament

Of

Joseph Mayson Hill

"Gawsp!  Sacré bleu...!!!"  His mother's shocked expression showed that she was clearly impressed against her will.  "You ‘ave some potential," she murmured then, reaching greedily for the document-

…which was snatched out of her reach.  "Tsk-tsk-tsk, Mama," he replied, putting the document behind his back.  "You go and steal a will of your own; zis one is MINE."

Jacqueline glared at him at first; then she seemed to change her mind, reaching out to stroke her son's hair in typical parental fashion.  "My son, my only love," she crooned; "let's simply take it with us.  Time is of ze essence; pretty soon we will be missed, if we haven't been already."

"Zis is a closed, private funeral, Mama.  Why would anyone miss us...?" Jake asked skeptically.

"You know perfectly as well as I do ‘zat ze ReVanches make a great impression wherever we go," she sniffed haughtily.  "Of COURSE zey are missing ze great Jacqueline.  And I am sure ‘zat whoever your friends are, miss… well, whatever it is zat you do," she added dismissively.

"You think so much of yourself, Mama," he sneered.

"And you think too little of me...!" she replied coldly.  "Give me ze will.  I'll ‘ave a copy made quickly and get ze original back in here.  Where is ze safe, what is ze combination?"

"Zis is my venture, Mama; for now, you are on a ‘need-to-know' basis.  I will find a way to get zis back before it is missed," he replied, stuffing the pages in his back pocket.

"Well… for now I'll stand aside, to see how you fare being in charge; for now."  She went back to the doorway and listened towards the wooden surface.  "We've been gone too long; we should get back to ze others."

Jake nodded.  "Should we go in separately?"

Jacqueline frowned.  "No, my son, it is too conspicuous… we walk in together."  She peeked again into the dark hallway.  "Ze coast is clear; follow me- and follow my lead."

******

Everyone was seated at the banquet table, being served by waiters and food servers.  Iced sparkling water flashed in the candlelight, and champagne glasses bubbled efficiently from its contents.  The repast was simpler than were this a holiday luncheon, but it was still a grand spread, one that Smithers would have himself overseen towards its pinnacle.  "Smithers would have liked this," Regine sighed to Joe as they waited for everyone's plate and goblet to be filled before starting.  "And to think one of his friends is the grandmother of the famous Jacqueline!!  He would have loved to see how elegantly she carries herself."

"I know what you mean."  Joe hesitated, then picked up a glass of champagne, raising it into the air.  "Everyone: let's drink a toast to our loved one, Marshall Smithers...!"

They all drank to him, and then lowered their glasses as waiters hurried forward to pour more.  To one side of Marquis sat his father, and on the other sat Jamara (at her request), and Carmen was on her other side.  Rah-Rah noticed Marquis looking around in concern.  "What is it, son," he asked as his own champagne glass was refilled.

"I don't get it, he just disappeared," Marquis said absently to his dad; "Jake, I mean."

"Maybe he went home," Carmen suggested, sipping from her water glass; "maybe he hitched a ride with someone back to HT."

"Without saying goodbye...?" Marquis frowned.  "It doesn't add up; he wouldn't go back to HT without telling anyone that actually lives there first... we're all here."

"Mystery solved," Kap spoke up then from Carmen's other side; "look...!"

The doors to the Great Hall opened; everyone at the table looked up as Jacqueline swept inside, followed closely by Jake.

The growing awe on the faces of Lamar, Malik, Rah-Rah, Marquis, Carmen, Angelina and Kap wasn't from the mere presence of the supermodel this time… it was because each one of them saw clearly the connection between the two advancing figures.  Now that they were right by each other, it was unmistakable…  "Didn't your friend tell me that his mother was a model...?" Rah-Rah asked, leaning over to whisper to his son.

"Not a model," Marquis replied then in shock as he stared at the pair; "a supermodel, is what he said…"

"I can't believe it," Angelina gasped, grabbing Kap by the arm.  "Did you know...?"

"No," said Kap, looking just as surprised.  "It looks like she just spit him out… they're almost identical."

"How old is Jake," Lamar asked Marquis then, a strange intensity to his features.

"Well, if he's in his right year at school, he's nineteen," Marquis answered; "he's two years behind the rest of us."

Lamar turned to Malik, a wild look in his eyes.  "Nineteen, Malik," Lamar said then; "he's nineteen.  And nineteen years ago, we were-"

"We were fourteen," Malik replied- and then his eyes began to grow in horror as he swiveled back to regard the boy following who was obviously his mother to the banquet table, and back to catch Lamar's twice-horrified eyes.  "You don't think…"

Lamar stared back just as intently.  "Well, it's possible, isn't it...?" he said then, mirroring the shock in Malik's face.  "She was my first…"

Slowly they both turned to regard Jake and Jacqueline once again, who had finally managed to find seats at the table across from Marquis, Carmen, Angelina and Kap.

Jamara sat in between Carmen and Marquis, and she had a serious frown on her face as she stared at the two people settling themselves in.  "What's wrong, Mara, honey," Carmen asked the girl, smoothing her baby hair down softly.

"I don't like him," Jamara replied in her little-girl pitch; "and his mommy looks mean too," she added, to Carmen and Marquis's surprise.

Rah-Rah had heard this exchange as well… and he too stared at the boy like a doorway to another dimension just appeared in the middle of the room. "Oh, my god," he whispered underneath his breath.

By this time the servants had begun to serve the supermodel and Jake.  Marquis leaned over towards them.  "Excuse me, Miss Jacqueline," he began.  "We're Jake's friends…"

The others (even Jamara) sort of glared at him for saying that, but kept silent.  Marquis, not noticing the cold treatment of that last statement, went on.  "We couldn't help but notice that you and Jake bear a… really strong resemblance to each other."

"Zat could not be ‘elped, seeing as Jacques here is my son," she replied loftily, lifting a green-leaf filled fork to her face, but then she paused at the look of confirmed surprise in them all.  "But of course, you already knew of zis...?" she asked.  When she received no response, she turned to Jake with a look of dread shock.  "You did not inform your peers zat you are related to ze outstanding and beloved Jacqueline, whom all women envy and all men desire...?"

Jake was also stunned by the startling reveal- but recovered instantly.  "As always, Mama, I am aware of your unwillingness to divulge any private information, to keep your personal life out of ze public eye," Jake replied with asperity.

"My son," she crooned again, leaning over to kiss his forehead.  "As always, trying to protect his mother.  Yet you do yourself an injustice; your friends should know you are related to ze upscale grace and beauty of Jacqueline.  Zey must bow at your feet for ‘aving ze blessing of being born to such a woman as I."

Angelina and Carmen sighed in unison.  Kap feigned sticking a finger down his throat.  Marquis, however, tried his best not to laugh at Jake's mother to her face.  He cleared his throat.  "Ummm, okay then," he replied, coughing down the fit of laughter that threatened to spill fourth.  Carmen kicked him under the table- the pain shot up his leg, helping him to calm down as he kept a slightly polite smile on his face.

"We understand why you kept silent about your mother, Jake," Carmen said then; "it would have gotten all over school and your private life would have been no good at all.  You would've been more famous on campus than our ‘Key here," she added, patting her fiancée on the back.  That shut his silent laughter off.

"Even we in France ‘ave heard of ze famous Hill famille," Jacqueline said with a nod towards Marquis.  "Ze African Gold of ze American Northwest; ze richest black famille on ze Pacific coast."

"That we are," Rah-Rah declared, raising his glass in mock toast to the supermodel.  "We've heard that you come from money as well; perhaps we can compare each other's portfolios sometime."

"‘Zat, Monsieur Hill, is ze worst pick-up line I ‘ave ever heard," she laughed airily.  "You must do decidedly better to catch ze eye of Jacqueline."

"Has Karl Khronic caught your eye," Lamar asked boldly then.  "Do you read his work?" Malik shot Lamar a quizzical look, yet remained uncharacteristically silent.

Jacqueline's eyes grew wide.  "Oh, he is master of ze game," she replied flutteringly.  "Ze grit and style he brings together is la plupart des magnificient (most magnificient)."

"Thank you," Lamar remarked, eyeing her intently, raising a glass of champagne.

She looked at him- and realized what he was saying.  "You are Karl Khronic...?  But of course, I should have recognized you," she replied with an impressed smile; "I ‘ave seen you before- at parties, of course."

"Yes," Lamar said then mysteriously; "only… at parties."  And he drank the contents of the glass down in one gulp.