“Ma’am, it’s not about stolen property or anything illegal,” I insist. “Could you do me a favor and give me her cell number?”
“How in the hell should I know that number? The only time we ever talk on the phone is when she’s too drunk to locate her car. My responsibility for that child ended over ten years ago. What I provide is a bed, food, and some utilities. She’s too much of a dipstick to survive on her own. Other than giving her a place to put her head, I can’t be held responsible for her shenanigans. She should be cleaning her damn room instead of running around. That girl looks for any opportunity to shirk her responsibilities.”
“Have you seen her this afternoon?” I ask, looking for confirmation that she is in Wilkinson Creek.
“Yeah,” she says, “she rushed in here a while ago to change into some jeans and a pair of boots. Other than for that minute or so, I have no idea what the little dumbbell is doing.”
“Ma’am, could you just do me a favor and locate her phone statement? Her cell number will be printed somewhere on that bill.”
“I’m in the middle of waxing the kitchen floor,” she says, cutting me off. “Call back in twenty minutes, and I’ll hunt around her damn room for a statement.”
“It’s important that I find her promptly.”
“Listen, you are more than welcome to come here and scout around for the number after the floor dries. Thanks to the untidiness of that knucklehead, I’m forced to clean this place twice as often.”
Chapter 26
Mandi
Upon my harrowing descent into the well, I’ve counted twenty-four of these metal rungs so far. The count may be off because I’m freaking out about the darkness surrounding me. My life has never been trouble-free. Bitching about my situation won’t change a damn thing. With any luck, I can get the gun, get the hell out of here, and get on with my life. After this is all over, I plan to quit complaining about the numerous setbacks I’ve encountered. This will be my revised wish upon returning to daylight.
As I move my right foot downward, my waterproof boot finally submerges. With a tight grip, I hold onto the bar until the heel of my boot finally reaches the solid concrete bottom. I can’t even imagine trying to maneuver in the pair of uncomfortable pumps I wore to the interview this morning.
Fortunately, less than two feet of skeevy liquid is located at the base. It would be far worse if the water reached up to my crotch. The dank and stale fluid in this hole would undoubtedly bring about a bitch of a yeast infection.
Being down here is a triple whammy; it’s tight quarters, wet and damp, and it’s so damn dark. The humidity alone will probably remove any natural wave from my hair. How can anyone willingly search around in caves or scuba dive? People are not like gophers; we’re designed to move about at ground level. I look up and see just a speck of light at the opening above.
I shouldn’t have looked up. Christ, I need to find the gun and get my butt back to the surface. Just keep breathing deeply and ignore that you’re down here. Yeah, right!
I suck in some stale oxygen in an attempt to slow the pace of my thumping heart. Although Clancy insisted it was 44 feet down here, I’m convinced it’s quite a bit deeper. 44 feet may not seem that far down, but it’s a significant distance while inside a vertical cylinder cut into the Earth. I haven’t been able to get through the end of The Shawshank Redemption more than once because I felt extreme panic as he crawled through that grotesque sewer pipe. He dealt with 500 yards of human excrement, so these “somewhat” healthier conditions need to be kept in perspective.
I gently remove the flashlight from my shirt pocket. I shine the beam around the base of the well before fumbling around in the water. Fortunately, there are no visible rats or nasty bugs occupying the same space. The circular rock wall must prevent anything slithery from surviving in this hole. That’s what I plan to keep reminding myself.
“Let’s make this fast.”
As I fish around in the water, my fingers pass over hundreds of mucky coins. This water has to be full of mercury and other toxic pollutants that a Brita would have a tough time filtering. I’m also detecting an unidentifiable odor. It’s far worse than the pile of filthy clothes in Willie’s basement. I cannot afford to become incapacitated over these irrational fears. I continue feeling around until my hand passes over something rigid. I pull the object out of the water and shine the flashlight on it. Yes! I’ve found the leather gun case.
The case seems lighter than when I dropped it down here. It has actually been down here for 25 years. Could a gun shrink in that amount of time? I cram the flashlight under my arm and unzip the pouch. When I open the case, it’s empty! What the fuck? Not a single drop of moisture seems to have touched the fur-lined interior.
“Where the hell did it go?” I dip my hand into the water and feel around the general area. I’m praying that the gun popped out upon impact and it hasn’t rusted away to nothing. Below the water, my fingers pass over nothing but tarnished coins and a gross old brace retainer. “It’s gotta be here!”
“Are you looking for this?” A male voice whispers behind me.
“Jesus Fuck,” I scream, pushing my body against the back of the well. I shine my flashlight up to see Agnew pointing the pistol at my head. I think it’s him—he’s a dead ringer for the asshole from those search engine photos. I may be seeing him as a result of oxygen deprivation coupled with acute fear. There’s no fucking way he’s down here. I would have heard him climbing down the ladder.
“How in the hell did you get down here?” I ask, pushing my body tighter against the wall although there is nowhere else to go. “You weren’t here a minute ago. I shined my flashlight around the circumference of the well.”
“Our mutual friend has a nice little talent for slowing down time,” he indicates. “I managed to snag the gun before you could reach down and put your hand on the case.”
“Why did you bother to put the case back in the water?”
“It was more dramatic watching you stress the fuck out over the empty case,” he says, giggling. “I get so few natural thrills out of life, but I get off watching people panic.”
“Wonderful.” I don’t want to insult him because he’s not down here for a social call. I’m processing his comment about “getting off watching me panic.” That is about twenty levels of yuck. The idea of this demented asshole getting aroused in my presence should be the least of my worries right now.
“It probably goes without saying, but I’m about to put a bullet in your pretty little face.”
“Come on, Agnew,” I plead. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Oh, but I do. It’s a perfect day for a funeral—yours! Of course, I’m going to love watching the life go out of those eyes. I’ve been waiting a long, long time to do this.”
“The world is your playground,” I insist. Reverse psychology may be my only play. Not only am I freaking out inside about being in this hole, but this psychopath is waving a gun at me. As long as I keep talking, I won’t panic. “Why are you wasting your time down here when so many lives are waiting to be extinguished on the surface? You are quite vulnerable being down in this hole. The cops could be seal off the area and arrest you.”
“Not a chance,” he says. “I owed our friend a favor, and the vig was due. I’m down here to take care of a little problem for her.”
“Abbey can move through time,” I point out. “She could squash both of us like an ant under a mountain boot. Let her do her own heavy lifting.”
“Killing you is necessary,” he says, inching closer to me. “You’ve been a serious pain in my ass for years.”
“I’m not the same Mandi that you knew growing up.” How do I even explain this? “I arrived here this morning and took over this body. Had it not been for me, you wouldn’t even be alive right now. Abbey probably didn’t tell you that I prevented your dad’s arrest.”
“Bullshit! Now you’re reaching. There’s no hope, honey.”
“I’m not reaching,
Agnew. In a roundabout way, you only exist because of me. Why would you want to destroy your creator?”
He mulls over this possibility for a moment. “I can’t allow you to climb out of here. Ab was quite clear that if you brought the gun to the surface, it would be detrimental to my future.”
“Do you need any additional proof that what I’m telling you is the truth?” I plead. “That gun you’re holding belonged to your dad. He killed seven people with that pistol. Your dad pulled the trigger in those murders that were pinned on Benny Jackson.”
“The old man doesn’t have the stones to pull a trigger; he’s a tired old fuck. You barely get points for effort.”
“You’re wrong, Agnew. Benny Jackson only got nabbed because I chucked the gun down here 25 years ago. Abbey was the ringleader behind everything that night. Your lust for killing came from your old man. I bet she never relayed that information to you.”
“She didn’t tell me shit,” he scoffs. “Anyway, I don’t believe a damn word you’re saying.”
“Why would I lie?”
“Because I’m pointing a loaded gun at you. You’d say about anything to slither out of a no-win situation like this.”
“Don’t you find it peculiar that she doesn’t want me to remove the gun from the well? I believe it has less to do with you, and more to do with her losing some of her power. You know, I’m not even worried about carrying the damn gun out of here anymore. I just want to leave.” I decided to bargain. “Let me live, and you can kill at will. You’ll never see me again.”
“I’ll kill at will anyway,” he says, callously. “All your talk isn’t about to butter me up because I don’t feel appreciation nor do I feel pity. I can’t have you runnin’ around messin’ things up for me.”
It’s time to appeal to the sliver of humanity he may possess under his icy interior. “Wouldn’t you rather have a normal life where you weren’t constantly worried about being captured?”
“That would be boring as fuck! I like being sought after. I love being on the news. I don’t mind people talkin’ shit about me, but that shit needs to be the truth. Some uptight network assholes learned that lesson today in a big way.”
“Agnew, killing is not the answer.”
“It’s been the answer to every question I’ve ever had. I love the rush of watching the darkness fall over a human being.”
I’ve never met anyone that had so much hate dripping from every pore. I can usually handle most unbalanced men, but I can’t pull any reverse psychology on Agnew. He perpetuates the belief that the killing of humans is for his amusement.
“It’s too dark down here to see the life go out of me,” I point out. “You should do it in the sunshine where you can watch my lights go out with the sun reflecting from my dead eyes.”
“That sounds tempting, but na.” He pushes the gun into my forehead. “Where do you want it—just below your hairline or inside your mouth? I’ll get satisfaction either way. Ab insisted that I had to blow your out brains down here.”
“Why would you need to kill me down here? That makes no sense,” I say. I’m beginning to think sleight of hand may be Abbey’s calling card. “You won’t get any credit for the kill because no one is likely to ever find out about it. You should be about gaining the credit as much as the kill. She’s up to something, Agnew.”
He hesitates. “You are just trying to buy some time.”
“You could have murdered me anywhere today, but she wanted it to happen in this hole for some perverted reason. It doesn’t add up. You can’t trust a word she says. Look at what she’s doing to me. She promised that my life would change. I expected a better tomorrow. This day has sucked the fucking sack from the moment I crawled out of bed.”
“Ab has been in my corner many times,” he says. “I’m obviously more important to her than your lame ass. It’s time to die, honey!”
Before I can say anything in opposition, something clinks off the barrel of Agnew’s gun and splashes in the water. It’s a big enough distraction to break away from the weapon being pushed against my skull. I shine the flashlight at the water and see a chain about to sink. I reach down and grab it before it makes its way below.
“What the fuck is that?” he hollers. “Tell me!”
“This isn’t good,” I say while shining the flashlight on the necklace. The encased Indianhead penny is the exact one that was hanging around my neck for nearly a year. As I toggle it in the light, both faces appear. “This is the same damn penny that I used when I made my wish.”
I look up. Although I can’t be sure from this depth, a woman is at the surface looking down. It sure looks like Patricia Jackson. That double-crossing Clancy must have darted to her trailer and told her where I was heading. Undoubtedly, he also clued her in about my involvement in Benny’s confinement. I cannot trust anyone in this damn town. I shout, “Patricia, help me. Agnew is down here.”
“I know he is down there,” she yells back. “That is the best place for both or you heathens. I’m here to mend a few mistakes.”
“What are you talking about?” I wail.
“From where I’m standing, the scourge that has plagued this county is down inside the well. It’s about to stay that way.”
“You fuckin’ bitch,” Agnew screeches. “When I get outta here, I’m gonna slit your throat from ear to ear.”
“That will not happen, young man,” she states. “I’ve been provided with a solution that will greatly benefit my son.”
Agnew raises the gun and fires a bullet up the shaft, but Patricia moved her head back before it could strike her. The vibration of the shot rings through my ears like a cannon blast. One less bullet in the chamber! Last night, Abbey clicked the loaded magazine in place. The bitch had this moment planned all along. I should convince him to fire a few more shots up the shaft, but one could ricochet and kill me—or it may kill him. Shit! That would be like betting on red or black at the roulette table.
“Give me the damn chain,” Agnew insists.
“Just let me hold it.”
“Sorry, princess, but you’re not going to need it,” he says. “But, it may come in handy for me. Either toss it to me, or you’ll find a bullet in each kneecap. I can promise the last few minutes you’ll experience will be pure agony.”
Since I’m such a pussy when it comes to pain, I fling the chain in his direction. As he tucks it inside his top pocket, I focus less on Agnew and more on Patricia. Although her words were echoed, I’m confident she said, ‘provided with a solution.’ It sounds as if Abbey granted her a wish. Why else would Patricia have used this particular penny? Fuck a damn duck . . . this is not good! I now understand the irony of the rare coin. It represents Abbey being a two-faced little bitch.
“Agnew, Patricia has to be working with Abbey,” I say, alarmed. “We need to work together and get the hell out of here. Patricia apparently has an ax to grind with both of us.” I certainly know that woman is furious with me. “If Abbey granted her a wish, we are both in deep shit.”
“You are already in deep shit.”
“Don’t be shortsighted over a single kill,” I insist, overwrought by terror. “If we can get this necklace to the surface, Patricia’s wish will be null and void. We need to move faster than fuck. It may take both of us to overpower Abbey.”
“She knows better than to double-cross me. I’ll snap her neck if she tries to pull a fast one.”
“If we don’t start climbing, you might not get the chance. We need to be unified.”
“I can’t let you out there,” he says. “This world ain’t big enough for both of us.”
“You can kill me after we deal with Patricia.” I plan to race away upon reaching the surface. I will zig and zag, making it impossible for him to get a clear shot. “I cannot die down here. Let me at least see the sunlight before the world goes black.”
“I don’t see the difference. When you’re dead, you’re gonna be entombed anyway. It ain’t gonna matter if it’s six feet or 36 f
eet!”
“Please, Agnew. I can’t deal with being stuck in dark places. Abbey is up to something. I didn’t like the way Patricia said that she is here to mend a few mistakes. At the moment, I believe Patricia is convinced that we are the mistakes!”
“Yeah, you might be right about that,” he says, biting his lip. “Alright, move yer bony ass, sister.”
I begin rapidly climbing although I don’t like that he’s following behind me staring up at my ass. Fuck it . . . let the pervert look. My ass isn’t going to have any value if I can’t get out of this hole. By the time I reach the fifth rung, something thick and slimy is covering the bar. I cannot get a solid grip on the metal because my hand keeps sliding off. I look up to see thick streams of liquid falling in our direction.
“What’s causing the delay, sister?”
I’ve stopped making progress because my hair is becoming drenched from the falling debris; it has the consistency of oatmeal. “Some mud-like liquid is falling from above,” I yell down.
As I shine my flashlight downward, Agnew has a bunch of thick gray liquid covering his right hand. Like the pig he is, he licks the tips of his fingers.
“What the hell is it?” I ask.
He spits it out, tilts back his head, and looks up. “It’s wet cement. They’ve got chutes unloading cement from two sides of the opening. That double-crossing gash is done for. Haul ass or move out of my fucking way.”
With a dry part of my shirt, I manage to wipe the bar enough to get a grip. I feel a rush of adrenalin mixed with uncontrolled fear. I scramble to get my hand on the next rung, but the metal is so slick that I slip, falling backward into the water below. Neither of my narrow feet hit Agnew on the way down. The well wasn’t deep enough to cushion the fall either. Luckily, nothing seems to be broken except my tailbone may be severely bruised. That’s the least of my problems. I have to get moving! The air is getting so thick that I’m having trouble breathing naturally. Agnew is over a third of the way up the latter, defying the soupy liquid that is falling like a sludgy downpour. The terror keeps building because he’s on his way to reaching safety, and I’m still at the bottom overwrought by panic.
In Dark Places Page 31