Red Curtains

by Leanna Sain

  “What?” she snapped. “I just saw one of those turtle crossing signs and thought I’d try to lighten the moment a little. Sue me! So…?”

  “So, what?” I asked.

  “So why did the turtle cross the road?”

  “I don’t know,” I ground out through clenched teeth, keeping my eyes trained on the taillights ahead.

  “To get to the other tide…get it? You know, like the chicken getting to the other side?”

  Jonas came to my rescue again. “You know, Ellie, it’s not really much of a joke if you have to explain it, but maybe it would’ve been funnier in another situation.”

  We drove in silence for a couple of minutes until we met a car, coming from the opposite direction. It had both its high beams and fog lights on; blazing brighter and brighter the closer it got to us.

  “Oh, my god!” Ellie screeched from the back seat. “Dim your lights, you moron!”

  Though my left ear was ringing, I had to agree with her. The glare was blinding, and it forced me to look away until it passed us. I blinked to get rid of the black spots in my vision. When I looked again, we were driving across the Bull Creek Bridge and there was only one set of red lights in front of us.

  What? I looked around in a panic. “Where’s the other car? Which one is that one? How’d we lose them?”

  “Our guys just turned on a dirt road back there, just before the bridge. I can see their lights in my rearview.”

  I twisted in my seat in order to see. Sure enough, I could see the glow of headlights inching off at a forty-five degree angle from the road. “What are you going to do now?”

  “I’m going to drive up here past the curve so they can’t see me, whip this thing around at the entrance of Fort Pulaski, and head back.”

  I didn’t ask him anything else, just clamped my icy hands tightly between trembling knees. Once we were out of their sight, he made a tight u-turn, then sped back to the curve in the road, before slowing down once again. The dark sedan was already pulling back out onto the road.

  Ellie cursed, “They’re done? That was fast!”

  She took the words out of my mouth, minus the cussing, though I might’ve been thinking some of those words. Surely, in that short amount of time, they’d only had time to dump one body, and not two.

  I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out. Tears stung my eyes, and I turned and stared at Jonas as we crossed the bridge and drove past the dirt road, following the car back the way we’d come.

  “We can’t do anything there,” he answered my unasked question. “If we follow them, maybe they’ll lead us to Spencer.”

  I nodded, thinking about that creek we’d just crossed over…a creek whose waters would eventually flow into the Atlantic Ocean. Maybe the authorities would discover it before the sea creatures staked their claim; maybe they wouldn’t. In either case, we hadn’t been able to cheat death after all.

  I stared out my window at the scattered jewelry blurring against the dark velvet sky, barely registering that there seemed to be a lot more “diamonds” showing up out here away from the city lights. I didn’t bother to wipe the tears that streamed down my cheeks. Raymond deserved to have someone to sorrow over him. It was the least I could do for the creative man who would never make roses out of palmetto leaves again.

  ****

  The dark sedan pulled into the parking lot of the Pirate’s House Restaurant. Twenty seconds later Jonas rolled past the building, and whipped around the corner to park behind a large construction dumpster sitting in front of one of the city’s renovation projects. He cut the engine, then turned to me, thrusting his phone into my hand. “Call my boss…Joel McMillan. Speed dial nine. He knows I’m working on this story, but he doesn’t know everything. Tell him. Be sure to explain the police involvement. He’ll know what to do.”

  I stared at him, mouth hanging open, unable to say anything.

  “I’ve got a hunch that they’re heading for the tunnel. There’s supposed to be an entrance under that restaurant. I’m going to try to follow them. They’re probably meeting Spencer here. Cleo, I want you to stay in the car. It’s too dangerous for you to come too. I can only look out for one person, and if you were with me, that person would be you; then we’d both be in danger. Please try to understand.”

  My mouth snapped shut and I finally found my voice. “It’s too dangerous for me, but not for you? You’re crazy! They have guns! What do you have?”

  “Cleo, please…I don’t want you to get hurt. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”

  “How do you think I’d feel if something happens to you? You big idiot!”

  He grabbed my face, kissing me, hard, then he whispered. “Please…”

  I was in a daze from his kiss, something he’d probably counted on. “Fine! Just go!”

  Ellie opened her door the same time he did.

  “What the heck do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.

  “Coming with you.”

  “Weren’t you listening? It’s too dangerous!”

  “How chivalrous of you! Yes, I was listening, and although your declaration of love was touching, I can take care of myself.”

  “You’re going to get us both killed!” he growled.

  “Nah! I can handle Mark. I’m an expert at it. The handling part.” She winked at him. “You know what I mean?”

  Jonas muttered angrily under his breath as he reached down to pop his trunk, then disappeared behind his car. He was back in a moment, carrying a small canvas duffle bag. He rummaged in it a minute, finally finding what he was looking for. With lightning speed, he spun Ellie around, grabbed both of her hands in one of his, and noosed them tightly with the length of rope he’d retrieved. Her mouth gaped open in surprise as he quickly knotted its end. Not giving her a chance to gather her wits, he pulled a bandana out of his pocket and stuffed it into her mouth, stifling her cries before she uttered them. He whirled her back to face him, his nose almost touching hers, and snarled a whisper, “There! Something I’ve wanted to do ever since you showed up in that alley tonight. Consider it pay-back!” Then he pushed her into the car and leaned down to grin at me.

  “I’ll be bahhk,” he growled in a pretty good Arnold Schwarzenegger imitation, and quietly closed the door. Before turning to leave, he shrugged on his ratty flannel shirt, buttoning it over his turtleneck, then pulled on his filthy ball cap, turning it around backward so it wouldn’t shade his face.

  I watched him sprint across the street and disappear into the shadows while Ellie thumped and grunted from the back seat.

  “Do you mind?” I snapped over my shoulder. “I’ve got to make a call and I can’t hear myself think with all your noise.”

  “Mmmuf-ffoo!”

  It wasn’t hard to figure out what that meant. I made a face that she couldn’t see, pressed the number nine on Jonas’ phone, and then “Send.” It rang five times before a sleepy voice answered, “Hello?”

  “Joel? Joel McMillan?”

  “Who is this?”

  “Cleo Davis. You don’t know me, but Jonas Holmes asked me to call you…”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Lily

  I tiptoed downstairs, cringing at each creak, praying they wouldn’t give me away. Over my shoulder, I could hear Minnie talking to someone. I paused, listening. It only took a few seconds to figure out she was talking to that crazy husband of hers again. He was probably out in that big car, playing taxi. Cleo was in her room. I’d heard music playing earlier when I’d crept by her door.

  I eyed the front door and made a face. I’d rather go out the back. That was the safer exit for someone looking like me—less conspicuous—but in order to get there, I’d have to go through the kitchen, and that would sort of defeat the purpose of sneaking out. Cocking my head, I listened for Minnie again. She was still talking…good. The coast was clear.

  I scurried across the foyer to the door, grabbing the knob, turning it. The door swung open silently, and I b
reathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for quiet hinges. Slipping out, I closed the door without a sound, then fled down the front stairs, opening and shutting the iron gate behind me.

  I paused, listening for a shout of alarm, something to indicate I’d been discovered. Still clear. I turned to the right, hurried to the corner, and made another right, onto Whitaker. Though I was out of sight of the house, I needed to put a little distance between us before I would feel safe.

  Safe? Was it safe for me on the streets? Maybe, maybe not; but that didn’t matter. Raymond was out here somewhere, and he was my friend. I needed to find him before Spencer’s men did. I had to try. It was too late now, but I really wished I hadn’t told him about the bag of money I’d found in the trash. If Spencer’s men found him first…if he happened to tell them about it…well, it wouldn’t bode well for me.

  I quickened my pace. I needed to find Raymond.

  ****

  I was waiting for the little green man to show up on the crosswalk sign when a low voice drawled, “Nice hat.”

  I glanced up and froze, staring into the cold eyes of a snake: Mark Spencer.

  His smile was just as cold as his eyes. “You must be Lily. Raymond told me how to find you.” His eyes flicked toward my hat. “You’re hard to miss…that thing makes you stick out like a sore thumb.”

  My heart was thudding in my chest. I looked around at the throngs of passersby, pleading with my eyes, praying that someone…anyone would notice my distress, but except for a few snickers at my appearance, I was ignored. Not a single person bothered to look me in the eye.

  “I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” he murmured, low enough that I was the only one who could hear him. “I have a gun, and I can make it look like you’re resisting arrest. No one would question me; no one would blame me if I shot you. After all, you’re just another of the many homeless people. They’d probably thank me for getting you off the streets.” He motioned with his chin. “My car’s over there. The black Lincoln. Get moving. We need to talk…somewhere private.”

  ****

  “Do one thing every day that scares you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Spencer muttered as he tied my hands behind my back. “I’ve heard that one before. Eleanor Roosevelt, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Now shut up. I need to think.”

  We were in a tunnel, somewhere under the Pirate House restaurant and I was using the only weapon I had: my quotes. My aim was two-fold. One…to convince Spencer I was, indeed, a crazy woman, not a threat to him, and two…to irritate the living daylights out of him so he couldn’t think. The second part was dangerous, though. I had to balance the irritation. I didn’t want to go too far. After all he had a gun, and even if he didn’t use it, he could use his fist. It was a fine line I was walking. I had to be careful.

  “If God can make a firefly’s butt light up, I believe He can do anything.”

  He groaned. “I told you to shut up, old woman.”

  “Trying to have a conversation with you is like playing Scrabble with M&M’s.”

  “That’s it!” he roared and jumped to his feet. “Enough! I need to think!” And he slapped me across the face, snapping my head to the right.

  The pain stunned me. Pulsing waves of it radiated from my jaw and mouth, stars circled my head. I touched my tongue to my lip, tasted blood. Okay…so much for my balancing act. Maybe I should be quiet for a little while.

  “That should teach you. Now, I need to make a call and take a leak, but I’ll be back, and we’ll talk more then. Don’t go anywhere.” His mocking laugh echoed down the tunnel.

  I studied my surroundings. There wasn’t much to see. Dim, yellow lantern light flickered on dirt walls, worn nearly smooth through time. I sat on a wooden keg of some sort. Others like it were stacked in the corner. That was it. Nothing else to see. Nothing to help me get out of this mess. My chances of surviving the night weren’t looking too promising. Once Spencer was convinced I hadn’t told anyone else about the bag of money, I’d find myself in the Savannah River, added to the body count. My job was to convince him. I absolutely, positively could not let him know that Cleo and Jonas knew. Not a hint, no clue…nothing. No matter what.

  What time was it? There was no way of knowing down here. It could be the middle of the brightest day of the year, and you’d never know it. Stygian darkness pressed in toward the lantern, pulsing. It seemed almost alive…probably was…with ghosts.

  I’d no sooner thought that final word, when Raymond stood before me. I gasped, practically swallowing my tongue, and jumped to my feet. I scrambled over the keg, trying to put something between me and…

  Raymond?

  I stopped and slowly turned around, heart thumping with both fear and sadness when I realized what I was seeing.

  Raymond was standing in front of me, or maybe I should say he was floating in front of me, since his feet were about six inches off the ground. Though he looked pretty solid, he had a slightly transparent quality about him, and I was pretty sure I could see the dirt wall behind him when I stared at his chest. That meant…

  “Oh, Raymond,” I whispered. “Why’d you leave the house? You were safe there. You—” I broke off. Fussing at him wouldn’t undo anything. Dead was dead, no matter how it happened, no matter whose fault it was.

  He looked wet…dripping wet, though the ground below him remained dusty and dry. It must’ve just happened if he was this wet. Another homeless man would be showing up in the river, soon. He’d come straight here, probably to warn me.

  “Miz Lily,” he croaked. “I gotta tell ya. Spencer’s lookin’ for ya.” His ghostly eyes filled with tears. “Forgive me, Miz Lily. I couldn’t help it. He was hurtin’ me so bad, I had to tell him. He knows about your hat. Ya need to get rid of that thing. If ya ain’t wearing it, he can’t find ya. You won’t stick out none. You’ll look just like any other homeless lady.”

  Before I could open my mouth to reply, Spencer appeared out of the darkness. “Who the hell are you talking to, old woman?”

  Couldn’t he see Raymond? I studied his expression. All I could see was disgust for a dirty old homeless woman. He didn’t see the ghost that was standing between us. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. I turned my attention back to my friend, ignoring Mark completely.

  Raymond was staring at me with horror-filled eyes. “I’m too late? Oh, no! Miz Lily, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. Go on, now. I’ll probably catch up with you later, and if you see my sister, Rose, tell her what happened.”

  Raymond sniffed and then nodded. He disappeared with a puff.

  Spencer stared at me with narrowed eyes, then shuddered before turning away, and I heard him mutter, “Crazy old bat.”

  From the darkness around the corner, I could hear a low rumble of voices. Someone was coming! Maybe they could help me. Mark whirled, pulling his gun. He was poised and waiting. I had to warn them…whoever it was.

  “Look out! He has a gun!”

  Spencer’s hit men burst around the corner, with their guns drawn too. He relaxed as soon as he saw them. “Done?”

  “Yeah, boss. Went without a hitch. Same as usual. Where’d you find her?”

  “Wandering the streets. She was wearing that hat, just like he said. Kind of hard to miss,” he chuckled, then he pointed his gun at my forehead, and growled, “You do anything stupid like that again, you’re a dead woman.” He turned away, muttering, “God, I wish I had some duct tape!” then, “I’m starving. One of you guys needs to go get us something to eat.” He reached in his wallet, and pulled out a hundred dollar bill, grinning. “Here, use this. Might as well work it into the local economy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Cleo

  I gnawed another fingernail and stared at the dark restaurant across the street. Arguing with myself hadn’t done anything, but given me several mangled nails. I glanced at the clock. Seven minutes had passed. Seven minutes
that seemed like seven days since Jonas had disappeared into the darkness. I’d actually started across the street, three different times, but ran back each time. Jonas had asked me to wait…he said, please. He doesn’t play fair.

  I’d told his boss everything, stressing that we couldn’t call the police since they were involved. He’d assured me that he’d take care of it, but what did that mean? How? Who in the world could he contact that would have authority to actually do something about this? We were dealing with a bad cop. Who could help us in a situation like this?

  I’d long since tuned out Ellie’s noise from the back seat, but a loud spitting sound caught my attention. Uh-oh. She’d somehow managed to remove the gag, and was wiggling into a sitting position. The streetlight on the other side of the road provided enough light for me to see her expression. Enough angry sparks shot from her eyes to ignite the interior of the car.

  “Untie me…now!” she demanded.

  I ignored her as best I could.

  She changed tactics. “He’s been gone a long time, hasn’t he? I hope he’s okay.”

  Now she was harder to ignore. I gnawed another fingernail.

  “They must be down in the tunnel. I looked everywhere except there before showing up in that alley. I know he has meetings down there sometimes. I would’ve checked here earlier, but I’m kind of afraid. I’ve heard that tunnel is haunted, and I don’t wanna mess with any ghosts. We could go together. I know if I could just talk to Mark…make him see reason, he’d stop all this craziness before it goes any further, before something happens to Jonas. It’s gotten out of hand, and he’s not thinking clearly. He’s got plenty of money. We could get away…head to Brazil or someplace else with no extradition laws.”

  I couldn’t believe she still wanted to be with that creep. “Do you hear yourself, Ellie? Think about what you’re saying, please. The man is a murderer!”

  “No, he’s not! He never pulled the trigger.”

  I couldn’t believe she was so gullible. She’d never seemed that way before. He had her under some kind of spell. That had to be it; otherwise she wouldn’t have swallowed all the lies…her own, included. “Listen…just because someone else did his dirty work doesn’t make him any less guilty. Besides…he did pull the trigger one of the times.”