by H L Bur
“But that’s not what we agreed to.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what we agreed to. It’s your fault this all got jumbled up, so you need to figure it out. All I know is that I want to be out of this town by Friday morning. You’ve got five days to get it straightened out,” he barked.
“And what if I can’t?” Brent asked, standing his ground.
“Listen carefully, because I’m not going to repeat myself. You don’t want to know what happens if you can’t fix this.”
There was a brief pause in the conversation. I’m assuming Brent nodded his agreement because shortly after, the gruff voice spoke again.
“Good. Thatta boy, now let’s get to work.”
With that, the lantern began swaying as they made their way toward us. They reached the stone steps and halted.
Oh God, please don’t let them see us, please don’t let them see us.
Quinn held up her hand to her ear and mouthed to me, ‘phone’.
I shook my head, having left my phone in the car. She nodded in agreement that she had done the same.
“Did you leave that door open?” the harsh voice questioned.
“No,” Brent answered.
“Well then, who do you suppose did?” the other man asked. He spoke as if Brent was an idiot.
“Maybe a raccoon got in. They’re really sneaky around here.”
“Don’t give me that shit and don’t let it happen again. Last thing we need is someone wandering around out here disturbing anything.”
With that, they walked up the steps and into the sawmill.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I glanced at Quinn, worried she wouldn’t be able to keep up if we made a run for it. She must have read my mind because she pointed to the other side of the waterwheel, as if she wanted me to go that way. We crept slowly under the structure, trying not to make a sound. If we could cut across the water inlet, we could follow the bank up to the railroad tracks and double back to the path that way. At least we would be able to see if they were on the move again because of their lanterns.
Once we were to the waterwheel, I hopped down the small bank. Quinn followed, but either lost her footing or the bank gave way and she slid down butt first, making a splash as she hit the water. We both froze, looking up toward the sawmill. There was one small window that they could potentially spot us from, and the cloud cover had started to clear a little, making us more exposed. We listened for a moment, not hearing any movement from inside the structure, but at the same time not knowing if we would be able to hear any movement given the lapping of the water we were now standing in - or, in Quinn’s case, sitting in. I helped her up and we slowly waded over the small inlet, careful not to make any more splashes. I climbed up the other side of the bank and reached my hand down to help pull Quinn up.
My feet were wet, but that was nothing compared to Quinn. When she had slid down the bank and landed in the water, everything waist down got soaked. We tried to pick up our pace feeling exposed without the cover of the mill on this side of the bank, but couldn’t go very fast without our flashlights to show us the way. We came to the railroad tracks and started to follow them back toward the mill looking for the intersection of our little dirt path. I didn’t know what was scarier, when we were right under their feet by the steps or now that we were out in the open where they could run into us.
Now that we were on the railroad tracks, it was easier to find our way in the darkness. We had just gotten to the cutoff to the path when we heard the sawmill door open with a bang. Once again, frozen in my tracks, I didn’t know what to do. I could see their lanterns bobbing their way down the steps - pretty soon they would be heading right for us. Quinn grabbed my arm and pulled me with her as she took off down the path.
I flung her right arm around my shoulder and supported her back to help her run faster with her sprained ankle. Unfortunately, I don’t think we were able to be very quiet running like this and before I knew it, I heard a yell from behind.
“Hey, what was that?”
I imagined them pulling out guns and giving chase. It took all I had not to scream bloody murder. Quinn seemed so focused on her task of hobble-running that she appeared to have her fear in check. I wanted to stop to see if they were chasing us, but knew that was what the girls in the horror movies would do, so I kept going.
Once we rounded the first bend in the path, I clicked on my flashlight so we could pick up our pace. I sent up a prayer that the trees were thick enough to hide our flashlight beams through the branches and brush.
It seemed like forever, but was probably actually only a few minutes, when we finally rounded the bend and could make out the reflection of the moon shining off my car.
I dug the keys out of my pocket and pressed the unlock button. I picked up my pace to get ahead of Quinn and opened the back door of the driver’s side and ushered Quinn in headfirst when she reached me. I quickly shut the door and hopped in the driver’s seat. I fired up the engine and put it in reverse, flying backwards out of the small dirt lot. I put it in drive and hit the gas, the wheels spun on the soft dirt, spraying it up behind us. The tires found their traction and we lurched forward, gaining speed down the bumpy trail. I glanced in the rearview mirror and could see the glow of a lantern just rounding the bend of the path. I floored it down the two-track and I could hear Quinn flopping around in the backseat because of my erratic driving, but I figured she would rather be roughed up a little in my back seat versus the alternative of being murdered, chopped up, and fed to the fish of the Great Lakes.
I swerved onto the main road, not even looking for oncoming traffic, sent up a quick thanks when we didn’t collide with any other vehicles, and sped on. Quinn popped up in the back seat holding her head and slowly climbed over the center console into the front passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt.
We glanced worriedly at each other, but drove on in silence.
Finally, I glanced over at her, looking down at her soaked pants. “Oh great, now my seat is going to be wet,” I groaned.
She glared at me.
“I told you there could be raccoons out there,” I said, thinking back to Brent’s excuse for the door being open.
“I’m pretty sure I would welcome a raccoon with open arms at this point.”
I shuddered and drove on.
We definitely needed to have a little chat to discuss the night’s events and try to connect some dots, but for the moment I was happy with our mutual silence.
Chapter Eleven
Ξ
It was pushing midnight when we finally pulled into the drive. We walked through the front door greeted by Gigi standing in the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Just where have you two been?” she questioned menacingly, tapping her foot against the tiled floor.
“Uh…we had some business to take care of at the store,” I offered.
“Don’t lie to me, Missy.”
“I’m not lying,” I lied again.
“I was just at the store and you two weren’t there.”
I shot a glance in Quinn’s direction and she looked as confused as I felt. As far as I knew, Gigi had never gone to the bookstore during her afterlife.
“Don’t look so surprised. What, you think I wouldn’t check up on the store to make sure you two weren’t running it into the ground?”
“But?” I started.
“How?” Quinn finished.
“Boy, you two sure are dense. That’s not important. What is important is where you two have been and what you’ve gotten yourselves into.”
“I told you, nothing,” I insisted.
Gigi arched one eyebrow at me, calling my bluff. “Then why does it look like Quinn took a bath in her yogi pants?”
“It’s yo-GUH, not yo-Gee,” I corrected her.
“Are you gonna give me sass girl? I don’t care what they’re called, now start talking.”
I huffed and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Not until you tell me why you think we’re in trouble.”
Her mouth dropped open slightly as if she couldn’t believe my gall.
“I got sprayed by a wayward sprinkler,” Quinn said, ignoring our squabble. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go change out of these wet clothes.” With that, she made her escape past Gigi and up the stairs.
I started in that direction, but Gigi stood her ground. “Sit,” she barked, pointing toward a chair at the kitchen table.
I sat.
“Now spill it.”
I eyed her skeptically. “Why do you care?”
“Don’t be smart. Now, you were always the more sensible one out of the two of you, so I’m expecting you to wise up here and tell me what’s going on.”
“You expect me to be transparent with you, but you still won’t tell me anything. For starters, how did you know about Sofie before we told you?” I countered.
“I’ve got eyes and ears all around this town.”
“What does that even mean? You’re dead! Are you trying to tell me you have a clan of ghosts around this town that you communicate with?”
She stared at me blankly.
I sighed heavily, knowing I wasn’t going to get anything out of her. The ghost had a resolve of steel.
She sighed in response, sensing my own stubbornness. “Cadence, how can I protect you two if you don’t tell me what’s going on?”
I sat there dumbfounded, more confused than ever. “Protect us? Grandma, you’re dead! How could you protect us? Spook them to death? Besides, why would you even want to protect us? You don’t even like us!”
She actually had the audacity to look hurt. “I left everything to you girls, but you two are so ungrateful and spiteful you can’t even see what’s in front of your faces.”
With that, she stormed out of the room and disappeared.
Great, now I felt guilty.
I trudged up the stairs a few minutes later and walked into Quinn’s room, flopping onto the bed.
“What now?” she asked hesitantly.
I recounted the confrontation I had just had with Gigi.
“She’s just trying to throw you off. Did she use the ‘you’re the more sensible one’ crap?”
I shot up into a sitting position. “She’s used that on you before?”
“Yup, plenty of times.”
I scowled. “She has no shame. She’s reprehensible!”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“So wait, do you think that’s where she goes at night? The bookstore?”
“I don’t know. That seems pretty strange…even for her.”
“Good point. Besides, she’s allergic to Henri,” I said, then shot a questioning glance at Quinn.
“Or is she?” she asked, reading my mind.
“I question everything about her at this point.” I was feeling jaded.
“Okay, I’m hitting the hay,” Quinn remarked.
“Yeah, me too. See you in the morning.”
Quinn nodded, while she re-wrapped her ankle with a dry ace wrap and climbed under the covers.
Despite my exhaustion, I felt like I needed a hot shower to calm myself down from the adrenaline rush of this evening. I breathed in the hot steam and felt myself slowly relax.
Once dry and in my coziest fleece leggings and a sweatshirt, I crawled into bed, savoring the plush mattress and feathery down comforter cocooning in around me.
I awoke suddenly just as daylight was breaking, covered in a cold sweat. It was one of those times when a loud noise had startled me awake, but I couldn’t tell if it had been in my dream or if it was in real life. I had slept fitfully and had been dreaming about a giant raccoon chasing me through the woods. It had pounced on me, causing me to fall to the ground, but when I landed I was inside the old sawmill. This time the saw blade was very much present and very much in working order. Some unseen force was pulling me toward the saw blade as it rose up and down. I was trying to back up, to get away from the large blade, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had woken just before my face reached it.
I sat up and listened carefully for any sign that the noise had come from real life. The house was silent and I could hear the first chirps from the birds outside, welcoming the morning light.
My shoulders relaxed, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, so I got up and tiptoed downstairs to start a pot of coffee.
I emptied a hefty scoop of coffee into the filter, poured the water in the chamber, and pressed brew. I then walked over to the large bay window to look out at the sky that was lightening quickly for the day. It was overcast this morning, but the weather report predicted sunny skies later on.
I sat in the bay window, staring out at the front yard, lost in thought. There was a doe out front snacking on some birdseed that was scattered under one of the large maple trees. I watched her for a while, shaken out of my reverie by the beeping of the coffee maker, signaling my pot of energy was ready to enjoy.
I looked up to see Quinn making her way down the stairs, nice and cozy in her pale green robe. She carried a bag in her hand.
“Happy Birthday!” she announced.
“Oh my gosh, I completely forgot!”
We gathered in the kitchen and I poured two mugs of coffee. I passed her one as I sat down at the kitchen table and she handed me the gift bag.
I excitedly opened the bag, which was decorated in grumpy cats wearing birthday hats. She had gotten me a tube of my favorite expensive mascara, a pair of workout leggings with a matching tank, the new Taylor Swift CD, and the next book in my new favorite series.
I squealed with delight. “Oh my gooosssshhhh!! You really outdid yourself, thank you sooo much! I love everything!” I beamed.
I happily took a sip of my coffee, savoring the hot liquid as it went down.
There was a sudden rap on the front door and we both startled. We eyed each other suspiciously, not knowing who could be knocking on our door this early.
I got up and made my way over to the front door when a second knock came. Geez, hold your horses, I thought.
I opened the front door, surprised to find Fletcher standing there.
“What are you doing here?” I said, coming off as rude due to how shocked I was. One glimpse at his face told me this was not a social call.
His eyes widened slightly, betraying that he was also surprised to see me.
“Cadence.” He gave me a curt nod, his face stony.
Oh boy, we’re back to Detective mode.
“How can I help you, Detective Collins?” I shot back.
Quinn came up behind me, arms folded in front of her chest in a defensive manner.
“We’ve had an anonymous tip suggesting that the residents of this household may have been trespassing on private property last night.”
My mouth dropped open just for a split second before I could force my facial features to remain blank. I quickly recovered - my shock turned to anger and I went in for the attack. “May have been trespassing? That doesn’t sound like a lot to go on. And what would a homicide detective be doing looking into a possible trespassing? On a Sunday,” I added.
At least he had the decency to look somewhat ashamed.
“Chief Kowalski got the call, but was busy on a different assignment and asked if I could come by to check it out. All he told me was the address and that it was a friend of his. To be honest, I didn’t know it was going to be your house. I didn’t even know where you lived,” he replied defensively.
“Okaaayy.” I thought for a moment. If the chief sent him, then he must be worried about us, because there’s no way he would send Fletcher out here for a bogus complaint like possible trespassing. “So, I’m still a little confused as to why we are being accused of this and why the chief would care enough to look into it.”
“Because it was Elias Rhodes who called in the complaint.”
“I thought you said it was anonymous?”
“It was called in as anonymous, but the chief said he
recognized Elias’s voice.”
Elias Rhodes was a hotshot defense attorney in town, and you guessed it…Joy Rhodes’s father. He also happened to be a huge jerk.
“Okay, and where did Mr. Rhodes suggest that we may have been trespassing?”
“He didn’t say.”
I scoffed. “Well, with that hard evidence, I guess you’re here to arrest me,” I outstretched my arms mockingly.
“I’m not here to arrest you, Cady, but I do want to know where you two were last night.”
“I told you, we had dinner at my father’s house. Feel free to ask him. It’s Pete Kline, his address is…”
“I don’t need to ask him.” Fletcher cut me off, sighing in disappointment at my reaction. “What time did you leave your dad’s?”
I felt a little bad that he seemed disappointed in me, but I felt like I had to stand my ground. “I’m not really sure,” I answered stiffly. “Maybe around nine o’clock?”
I glanced at Quinn and she shrugged her shoulders, but nodded in agreement with me.
“Okay, and what did you do after you left your dad’s?”
“We went for a drive,” I said drily.
“Is it possible that when you were on your drive, you may have inadvertently gone onto a property belonging to Mr. Rhodes?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Cady, I really hope you are being careful and that you’re not doing what you promised me you wouldn’t do,” he said, raising his eyebrows at me in warning.
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re speaking of.”
He sighed again. “All right, but judging from the sound of it, this Rhodes guy is not someone you want to be messing with, so I would suggest you stay away from him and stay out of trouble.” He emphasized the last part.
He turned to leave and I slammed the door behind him.
I spun around and huffed. “Can you believe him?” I screeched.
“Seriously, what the heck was that about?”
“To think I was actually considering sharing with him what we know about Brent and the Mystery Man. And the blood…I was going to tell him about the blood!” I was furious at my near mistake. “The nerve of him,” I continued my rant.