by Wes Markin
“But there is something that always makes me wonder,” Louise said.
“Go on,” Jake said.
“The rumor about Jotham’s pit.”
“I don’t follow.”
“It’s nonsense,” Lillian said.
“Yes, I know, but―”
“Can someone fill me in, please?” Jake asked.
“That he has a pit on his land where he throws those who cross him,” Lillian said. “It’s just another bullshit rumor that Jotham let play out—anything that feeds the image of him as a monster.”
“In my experience, rumors often start with some kind of truth,” Jake said.
“Yes,” Louise said. “That’s what bothers me. What if he did put Amber into a pit? He told me he gave her back to the earth, somewhere cold and dark. What if he’s imprisoned her in this place many now refer to as the killing pit?”
Jake considered it. “Well, pit or no pit, I think it’s about time this prick’s reign came to an end. Louise, please contact Ayden. Bring him to us here. This ends tonight.”
Louise nodded. “There’s something else, I’m not sure it’s relevant … Maybe it’s best—”
“Tell us,” Jake said.
“One of the triplets didn’t die. She was given up for adoption.”
“He gave away his child?” Lillian said. “Doesn’t sound like him.”
“No, but he was too distracted with building his empire. With no mother to rear his infant, he couldn’t afford the distraction. It was the same when I had Ayden. Except, he demanded him back when he was eight.” She looked down. “Because he was male and would eventually support the business. I think he looked at this daughter’s home, saw that she was content and left her be—potentially, the only unselfish act that man has ever performed.”
“Where did she go?” Jake said.
Louise stared at Jake. “She’s still here, of course. In Blue Falls. You didn’t think he’d allow her to go too far, do you?”
“Who is it?”
“They don’t know. It’s best you don’t know.”
“No more secrets,” Jake said.
She sighed. “Piper Goodwin. Do you know her?”
Jake steadied himself against the desk.
18
PETER SHEENAN THOUGHT of Prince and all the other dogs he’d loved and cared for in what now seemed like a reasonably short lifetime then focused on the bleeding bullet hole in his gut. He was familiar with stomach wounds. In Vietnam, he’d seen friends die from them, and he’d seen friends survive them. Once he’d adjusted to the sudden pain and confusion over having gastric acid and bacteria flood his abdominal cavity, he inspected the bleeding wound.
He couldn’t be certain, but the wound’s location gave him some hope. There was a good chance the damage was exclusively to his stomach and that other organs and other vital innards had been spared trauma. If he got medical attention, he could survive what was coming—blood loss, fever, paralysis of the intestines, and sepsis. One soldier he’d patrolled with had been found forty hours after his belly wound and had pulled through. So, if it wasn’t for Brad, Jotham’s security guard, standing over him and pointing his own rifle at him, Peter would have cause for optimism.
At least Oliver had left. If, by some miracle Peter did get out of this, that little shit had better start running.
Peter had been dragged to the dog cages. His head fell to one side, and he looked into the beady eyes of the American pit bulls.
They yapped and growled at him from their cage doors.
He smiled back at them. Beautiful animals. Wasted in this life of misery. If only Oliver hadn’t betrayed me, I would have gotten you out.
He’d tried talking to Brad on several occasions, but each time, he was rebuffed. Still, he persisted. “You can’t just leave me to bleed out on the floor.”
“Shut up. You’re disturbing the dogs.”
Peter had a hunting knife in a sheath on his calf. If only Brad came closer, he could put it to good use.
Jotham stepped from behind the farthest cage. “Good evening.”
Brad said, “Mr. MacLeoid, this man―”
“Save it, Brad. I just saw Oliver. You head in now.”
Peter watched the bastard who’d shot him walk away. “Me and you aren’t done!”
Jotham approached, closely followed by Anthony Rogers.
This was particularly saddening; Peter was good friends with Anthony’s father and had only recently helped him renovate the convenience store. “How’s your dad, Anthony?”
Anthony avoided eye contact.
“I’m sure he’d be proud of you.”
Jotham laughed as he approached. Beside him, his dogs whined and pawed at the cage doors for his attention. “You think you can appeal to Anthony? You tried that with Oliver, and where did that get you? My men pick the winning side, Peter.”
“You’re a cancerous worm, Jotham MacLeoid.”
“Says the man spilling his entrails all over my path?” Jotham paused a yard from Peter and rubbed his beard. “Maybe you should be asking for help rather than dealing out criticisms.”
“I’d rather die. I’ve been to your dog pit, Jotham.”
“I know. I paid a visit to our mutual friend.”
Peter widened his eyes.
“Don’t fret, Peter, he’s fine. Which is more than I can say for you. How bad is the wound?”
“Why don’t you come take a look?” And then I’ll slip my knife into your black heart.
“Best not get too close. I’ve yet to wash, and you need to avoid infection.”
Peter felt a sudden wave of pain and nausea. Avoiding the wound, he felt around his stomach. The walls were tightening to protect his other organs from the growing pressure in his abdominal cavity. “It’s an abomination, Jotham. Those poor animals. How can you live with yourself?”
“Live with myself?” Jotham edged nearer. “Why don’t we talk about how you live with yourself?”
“I don’t follow.”
“You led your canines around a burning jungle.”
“We took care of them.”
Jotham laughed. “Were you taking care of them when they were deemed as surplus equipment during US withdrawal? Did you even say goodbye to the poor beasts you left behind?”
“We begged, we tried.”
“You could have tried harder. How many made it back? Two hundred? From thousands …”
Peter remembered saying goodbye to Prince—his best friend, the dog that had saved his life. They’d pressed their foreheads together. Prince had whined. He’d known that was the end of the line. Tears of both pain from his stomach and the anguish over Prince and thousands of other lost dogs streaked Peter’s face.
Jotham stood over Peter. “What happened to the dogs you cared for Peter? Were they euthanized, abandoned to be slaughtered by the enemy, or given to the South Vietnamese military to live in misery?”
“Robby’s Law, you prick. We fought so it would never happen again. Since the year two thousand, not a single dog has been left behind.”
“Better late than never, I suppose.” Jotham kneeled beside Peter’s head.
That’s it, you bastard. Come close … Peter’s hand crept from his stomach to his thigh.
“I’ve a use for you, Peter.”
“Is that before or after I get to hospital?” He slowly lifted his knee to draw his knife-armed ankle closer to his hand. Keeping his eyes firmly on Jotham’s, he gritted his teeth against the pain, forcing it back inside himself.
“You came here with the intention of helping my bitches, yes?”
“Yes.” His hand was now just touching his calf muscle. His jean leg was sliding up, and he felt the coldness of the ankle sheath.
“Do you know what a bait dog is?”
“Yes.” His fingers touched the hilt of the hunting knife.
“We don’t usually use live bait dogs here. It’s not a fair retirement for a fighting dog. I tend to reward mine.”
; “You saint,” Peter said, unclicking the strap.
“Yes, but tonight, I’ll make an exception.”
Peter’s hand closed on the hilt.
“I have three of my most promising bitches in the final cage. If I let them compete over one bait dog, it would really help with their aggression.”
He slipped out the blade—slowly. Here it comes, you vile, murderous, prick.
Jotham stood up.
Peter quickly released his hand and lowered his leg. Thankfully, his jeans slipped over the sheathed weapon.
“Remember though, a bait dog knows how to bite and tear as well as the game dogs. So, first”—he grabbed his rifle from his shoulder—“we have to ensure that doesn’t happen.”
Peter saw the butt of the rifle coming but had no time to move. He felt the pressure on his mouth, everything turned white, and then came the splintering pain. He opened his eyes. Stars rained through his vision. The butt hovered, ready to come again. He tasted blood.
“We do this by taking its teeth.”
“No―”
Two more blows in quick succession. His mouth felt full of stones. He dropped his head to the side, dribbling out teeth and pieces of his lips. He tried to open his mouth to beg for mercy but felt only excruciating pain. His jaw was surely broken. Unbelievably, in this spinning world where the pain and nausea threatened to overwhelm his senses, he remained aware of what was happening.
“Hold him, Anthony,” Jotham said.
Hands slipped under his armpits and lifted him into a sitting position.
“No, no … stop.” He wasn’t sure if the words found their way from his broken mouth. While they dragged him, he tried to wriggle free, but this only intensified the pain in his stomach, and his flayed mouth burned under a sudden burst of vomit and intestinal juices.
“Got you a treat here, ladies.” Jotham opened the cage door. “Play nice.” With a stick, he waved the snarling pit bulls to the back of the cage.
“Stop … stop!” Peter said, kicking out with his legs.
They rolled him in and slammed the cage shut behind him.
“Forgive us for not staying,” Jotham said. “I don’t like to watch my bitches squabbling over bait.”
“You can’t―”
Teeth sank into his right wrist. He stared into the glassy eyes of a pit bull.
“Jesus, Minx,” Jotham said, laughing. “Anyone would think we hadn’t fed you in a week.”
Minx shook her head from side to side, growling.
Peter felt his skin rip.
“Farewell, Peter,” Jotham said.
Snarling, two other pit bulls closed in on Peter while Minx savaged his arm. Their top lips curled, and their canine teeth shone.
Less than a minute, Peter realized, was how long he had left on this planet. Unless …
The voices of Jotham and Anthony quietened. They were some distance away now.
There was an option. An awful option …
Minx tore a chunk from Peter’s arm.
He issued a loud, guttural scream, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Fuck you for making me do this, Jotham.
Jaws closed on his right leg.
Practically blinded by concussion, pain, and blood loss, Peter reached with his left hand, yanked the hunting knife from its sheath and slammed it down where he felt the burn. He heard the dog whimper. And it broke his heart. He drove the knife home again, and the pressure on his leg ceased. He felt more teeth in his right shoulder.
With no time to despair over what he’d just done, he turned the knife on the other innocent animals too.
Kayla faced away from Gabriel.
“Please,” Gabriel said, looking through the slot in the door. “Let me see you.” No reply. He wondered if she was asleep. “I know it’s not what you had in mind when you came to me, but you’re safe now.”
“I’m locked in your basement.”
“Where your father can’t get to you. Where he can’t hurt you anymore.”
“He never hurt me.”
He rested his forehead on the door and sighed. “Please turn around.”
“So you can do those things to yourself again?”
“No. I just want to talk.”
“I hate you.”
“I understand that’s how you feel now. I did a good thing today, you know. I saved some people.”
“I don’t care.”
“I’m saving you.”
“Let me out.”
“I can’t do that now.”
“When?”
“When you realize this is where you belong, then I’ll be able to trust you. One day that will happen, I’m sure of it. You’re not like the other MacLeoids―”
The doorbell rang.
Kayla flipped over. Her eyes were wide. “HELP ME! HELP ME!”
He slammed the slot closed. With his heart thrashing his chest, he sprang up the stairs. He’d soundproofed the basement a long time ago, but the door at the top of the stairs was wide open.
“HELP ME! I’M IN THE―”
He slammed the basement door closed and bolted it. The doorbell chimed again, and he glared at his front door. Shit! Shit! Did whoever it is hear? After using his sleeve to wipe the perspiration from his brow, he sprinted to the front door and looked through the peephole. He felt like throwing up.
Jake, Lillian, and Ayden—two police officers and the brother of the girl in his basement. Could there have been a worst combination?
The doorbell rang a third time. He latched the security chain. If they’d heard Kayla, they’d come in quickly. The chain might give him enough of a delay to grab his rifle, which was in reach beneath the coats.
He opened the door.
“Bickford? What the hell are you doing here?” Gabriel asked.
Jake was in no mood for any of his bullshit, not since the truth about Piper. “We know.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened. “Know what?”
“Everything.”
Gabriel darted to the side.
Jake was quicker. He propelled himself forward, looped an arm around the chief’s waist and slammed him into the banister at the bottom of his staircase. Having winded his opponent, Jake had a second to adjust his position, so when Gabriel lifted his head, gulping for air, he drove a fist into his face.
Gabriel crashed into the wall. “I’m the chief of police―”
Jake delivered two body blows and an uppercut.
Gabriel slid down the wall, and Jake stepped backward, shaking his hand. “I’ve said it before, Jewell, you’re a weak man.”
Gabriel smiled up at Jake. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Jake stepped forward.
Lillian’s arm shot across his chest. “No more, Jake.”
Jake looked at her; she was right. He sneered at Gabriel. “A fifteen-year-old girl is dead, Jewell. Where’s your integrity?”
“Get out of my fucking house!” Gabriel drew his sleeve across his broken lip. “I’m not talking to you.”
“Then talk to me, Chief,” Lillian said. “Maddie Thompson is dead.”
“How would you even know that?”
She eyed Ayden hovering in the doorway with his head lowered. “Ayden was there.”
“Did you know?” Jake asked.
“Of course not!”
“You don’t look too surprised.”
“How long have you been in Blue Falls, Bickford? Nothing surprises you here.”
“Call me Bickford again, Jewell, and I’ll break you in half.”
“Bring it on.”
Lillian glared at Jake. “This is getting us nowhere.”
Jake nodded and refocused on Gabriel. “Okay, Jewell, so now you know; what’s your plan?”
Gabriel shook his head. “You’re a stubborn bastard. You really aren’t getting it. Even if he did kill her, you’ll never pin it on him. He’s too connected. I may be the chief of police, but I’d be dead five minutes after calling in a search team.”
“If you c
an’t handle the risk, you shouldn’t be doing the job.”
Gabriel grunted. “Has it not sunk into your thick skull yet? I hate him as much as the next man. I’ve been helping you as much as I can without jumping into the crosshairs.”
“Those shitty little hints?”
“Well, they must have had some impact. You seem to have turned up here well-informed.” He raised an eyebrow at Jake. “Care to share?”
“His wife, Amber Colson, is alive.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“It’s true,” Lillian said.
“She blew her head―”
“It’s true,” Ayden said, stepping forward to join Jake and Lillian. “She’s alive … if you could call it that. He keeps her in his pit.”
“The famous pit!” Gabriel looked between the faces of his three intruders. “An imaginative rumor.”
“No, Chief. You may not have seen it, but you’ve shared enough time with my father to know it exists,” Ayden said.
Gabriel sighed. “Maybe … but keeping someone in it? How could they possibly survive?”
Tears welled in Ayden’s eyes. “He shelters her in a little wooden kennel. He feeds her dog food and keeps her warm with old shit-stained blankets. He does keep her in that pit, Chief—a pit reinforced with wood so it doesn’t fall in on itself.”
“You just told us nothing surprises you, Jewell,” Jake said. “You know what that man is capable of. And for years, on your watch, you’ve allowed this to continue.”
“Fuck you. If I’d known about that, I’d have gotten her out.”
“You wouldn’t have,” Ayden said, “because anyone who goes into the pit doesn’t come out. He incapacitates them when he sends them in. Then, when they are down there, she mothers them, reliving those last few moments of her own children’s lives. My father provides her with industrial-strength bleach to force into them.”
“Sick bastard,” Gabriel said. “And you were there, Ayden, when he did that to a child?”
Tears streaked Ayden’s face. “He made us do it. You don’t understand. If we don’t—if we say no—then …” He put his hand on his head. “Jesus … what have I done?”
“Not now,” Jake said. “You must pay for this, Ayden. But first, you can atone. You do the right thing.”