Drizzle of Death

by CeeCee James

  I was almost home when I got a text from Frank. —Hey! Where’ve ya been?

  I didn’t answer, instead clicking my phone off. I needed to be alone. Once upstairs, I went straight to the bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet and pushed everything to one side until I found what I was looking for.

  My sleeping pills. I needed them tonight.

  I woke up the next morning feeling groggy like my head was stuffed with wet cotton. It took a second for the memories of last night to filter back in, and when they did, I pressed my eyes tight. Hot tears trickled down my face and I twisted the sheet in frustration. After a few sniffles, I got up and got some coffee, and sat with a thump at the table. The easel had been bumped at some point last night and the painting now faced the sunlight.

  Flowers. Green.

  Angrily, I grabbed my biggest paintbrush and squeezed out black paint onto my palette. I crushed it until the entire tube was empty and then I slashed the paint onto the canvas. Lies! All lies! I didn’t realize I was crying until a sharp sob forced itself out of my throat. All those years! I thought Derek was an art consultant. I actually thought he helped people. But really he worked for smugglers? Lies!

  When the canvas was as black as my heart felt, I stopped. The paintbrush slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor. The emotion was gone. I felt numb.

  There was nothing I could do about Derek. I had to pack all that away and not think about it. At least not right now.

  But I could still help Jacob.

  I drained my coffee and swiped my hair into a ponytail. And then I was out the door and running to my van.

  There were other things Oscar had told me last night that I needed to follow. And the most important to me right now was to trust my gut.

  My gut told me that, somehow, Amy was in the middle of this. She had the jealous boyfriend. She had the broken phone case. She reacted weirdly when I talked to her yesterday.

  I knew she was getting a new cell phone today. Maybe I could do a little recognizance.

  I took the switch-backs up the mountain road recklessly. There was no place to hide near the Carmichael’s house, so I parked in an empty driveway next door and hoped the owners wouldn’t be back any time soon. Then I pushed through the neighbor’s trees to settle behind a bush where I had a good view of the Carmichael’s house.

  Part of me couldn’t believe I was doing something so brash and ridiculous. But another part, the part still stunned by last night’s news, didn’t care.

  The driveway was empty, but it had been that way when I came yesterday so I had no reason to think Amy wasn’t there. I sat for a long while, waiting for who knew what. Finally, I turned on my phone to distract myself. Red notifications flashed in my messages, and I saw I had a few from both Frank and Cecelia.

  Deciding that I’d better deal with them, I opened Cecelia’s first.

  —GiGi, can you come for morning set up?

  —GiGi, the guests are here. Are you coming?

  —GiGi! Where are you? This isn’t like you at all. Are you okay?

  Guilt flooded me and I quickly typed back. —I’m so sorry. Horrible day today, and my phone was off. Can I come in later?

  While I waited for her response, I opened Frank’s. —Want to get together with me and Jessica later?

  His second said,—Hey? Are you ignoring me?

  And then, —Where are you?

  There was nothing I wanted to say. I sent Frank back, —Nothing wrong. Talk with you later.

  Cecelia responded then with a—Sweetie, you scared the tar out of me. Glad to know you’re okay. You just rest and feel better.

  I smiled. I sure loved that woman.

  I scrolled a moment to find my notepad and brought it up. Settling back into the nest of pine needles under the tree, with my back against the trunk, I cast a glance at the house to be sure I still couldn’t be seen.

  All was quiet and clear on that front.

  I started to type my list of suspects that I’d given Oscar the night before. Under that, I listed my clues.

  *money roll with drug bag

  *broken piece of a cell phone case

  *same boot prints of all sizes at pond

  *Jacob wearing English boots, not Amish

  *tractor going into pond despite him being good with mechanics

  *Mary’s note about the man coming to the cave

  *Mary’s note saying she didn’t want to hide Jacob’s secret

  *Amy being brought home to be put into rehab

  *Mary has a crush on Jacob

  I studied the list, chewing the inside of my cheek. I knew the answer was there but it was still blocked from me. Something about a drug ring? But who killed Jacob? And how did he end up at the bottom of the Amish wheelhouse stairs?

  These questions were going to be the death of me. I shut the list and opened up my drawing ap. It was a cool thing that allowed different colors, textures, and paintbrushes.

  I chose the painting brush and cadmium red. I needed vibrant, something to match how my emotions felt at the moment. With my fingertip, almost carelessly, I swirled the brush across the horizon.

  Red at night… sailor’s delight.

  The red captured my eyes like a spurt of blood in untouched snow. What was it about red that was drawing my attention? I frowned as I stared at the painting.

  On a whim, I chose straw-brown to be the next color and dragged my finger in a zig-zag down the side. I added another and connected them with lines.

  A set of stairs. Just like the ones that led to the wheelhouse.

  I stiffened. Wait a minute. What was it that Mary had said about Elder Yoder? That above all cost, he had to protect the Amish name from being sullied? That was it!

  A sound grabbed my attention, the grinding of tires on the gravel driveway. I couldn’t think about it anymore and powered my phone off to watch.

  Chapter 21

  The car coming down wasn’t the one I expected—a UPS or some other delivery service. Instead, it was a blue sedan with a spoiler.

  I ducked my head as the car rumbled by and then leaned around the trunk to see who got out.

  The door opened and a young man, I guessed close to Amy’s age, emerged. This must be the boyfriend. He glanced around, making my heart skip a beat, but then walked up to the front door.

  It opened before he had a chance to knock, and Amy sprang out onto the porch. There was a long embrace and then she led him inside, shutting the door behind them.

  I crept forward slowly, looking for an open window. Carefully, I made it to the edge of the trees and then scurried, hunched over, for the back of the car. My heart beat hard as I peered around the bumper.

  Nothing came from inside the house.

  Still bent over, I raced to the corner of the porch. I clutched the railing and tried to catch my breath which was raised from the adrenaline ripping through my veins.

  Everything was still and quiet. An owl hooted in the distance, and vehicle noise came from the road.

  I crept along the side of the house and crouched under the window. Voices could be heard now, and it sounded like arguing. I started to go farther down the side of the house when a storage shed at the back of the property caught my attention.

  Was I hearing noises from there, too?

  Apprehensively, I hurried down the path to the large wooden shed, the skin on my neck prickling. The doors were shut with a padlock. I walked around the small building but there were no windows. On my way back to the front, I accidentally snapped a stick in half. I froze.

  “Is someone out there? Please!” A voice called. I recognized it right away. Mary.

  I wanted to reassure her but I didn’t want her to do something that would cause the two in the house to get suspicious. Instead of responding, I hid behind the corner of the shed and prayed they hadn’t heard her. My muscles jerked as the door from the house slammed. I juggled my cell phone from my pocket and turned it on.

  The screen was frozen.

  “
Now what are you planning to do?” Amy yelled. I heard footfalls then, and they were coming closer. A second set sounded like a person running to catch up.

  “You did this to me,” the man growled.

  “Shut up. You know this wasn’t me,” Amy whined back. “Now be nice to her.”

  “You had your chance to get her to talk about where the money was. Now it’s my turn.”

  I stared at my phone in desperation. The little wheel spun as it tried to boot up. Come on. Come on!

  There was a scrape of the key against the lock and then the shed shook as the door was flung open.

  “Get over here, you maggot,” the man yelled.

  “Please. I won’t tell. Just let me go home,” Mary begged.

  I looked around for anything on the ground that I could use as a weapon. Some small rocks, tiny branches, that was it.

  Then I heard a metallic click. My mouth went dry.

  “You know what this is?” said the guy. “This is my friend, switchblade. We ain’t going to play any games anymore. You tell me where that money is, or I’ll take your fingers, one by one. Maybe send them home to your momma, hmm?”

  “No!” Mary screamed.

  “Oh, for crying out, loud. Stop it, Tom,” Amy muttered. “Seriously. You’re creeping me out.”

  “You think your mom would like a finger? Which one? This one?” Tom said.

  Mary screamed again.

  “The money. Where is it?” he asked, his voice sounding low and calm.

  “It’s—it’s in the cave. By the pond,” Mary sobbed.

  “There now. That wasn’t so hard, was it? And you get to keep all your fingers.” There was scuffling and the sounds of dragging. I peeked around the corner to see Tom haul Mary out with her arm twisted behind her back. Mary’s dress was torn and her face was dirty. “Now, you’re coming with us to make sure we find it.”

  Amy rolled her eyes. “Us? Seriously? You need me, too?”

  “Who’s going to hold the gun on her while I drive? Now, get in the car.”

  “You have a gun, too? Kind of over-kill, don’t you think?” Amy grumbled.

  “Just get in the car.” He kicked the shed door shut with his boot. I noticed it was the same brand as the one Jacob had worn.

  I watched, helpless, as Amy trudged back to the house where the car waited. Tom followed, dragging a whimpering Mary with him.

  I glanced at the edge of the property and then back at the trio before making a dash for the trees. As quietly as I could, I pushed my way through the branches and underbrush to the neighbor’s yard. I ran up the driveway to my van and climbed in, too afraid to shut the door. I was sure that the sound would carry over to the Carmichael’s house.

  But leaving the door open had its advantage because I was able to hear the sedan start and drive out to the road, sounding like the tires spun out on the gravel before catching the pavement.

  As the sedan noise faded, I slammed my door and started Old Bella. She whirred over and over, failing to catch.

  “Come on,” I begged, pumping the gas. The final pump did it and she started with a misfire and plume of black smoke. I backed her up and got out onto the road.

  There was no one around. I was the only one on the road.

  “Where are you?” I whispered, leaning over the wheel. Did they go up the mountain instead of down? That didn’t make sense. My engine roared as I pushed Old Bella to her limit; racing on the straight strips, and braking on the curves. I didn’t want to lose Mary.

  I nearly cried when I caught sight of the sun hitting chrome of the blue sedan. It was just up ahead. The car disappeared around a curve. I stomped on the gas and followed.

  The road was precarious. A steep drop-off cradled one side with a bank on the other. My tires chirped as I hit another corner, trying to keep up.

  As I came back around the bend, I saw a pale face looking back out the rear window at me. It was Amy. And then Mary did as well. Amy yelled something to Tom who stomped on the gas even harder.

  My stomach sank as the car whipped around the next corner. The van swayed as I tried to keep them in sight.

  I had to quickly think of a plan. What did I hope to do? I couldn’t stop them up here on this road. It was dangerous. And to make it worse, there was a sharp corner ahead; dead man’s curve.

  Thinking of Mary, I eased off the gas, hoping that by backing off, Tom would drive safer.

  The curve was less than a quarter mile ahead. They weren’t slowing down. If anything, they were still accelerating even as the space between our vehicles grew.

  The sedan swerved as it entered the next curve, kicking up dust. Somehow, Tom regained control and brought it back on the road. I could see Amy hitting him on the shoulder. He yelled back and twisted the wheel to take the next corner just as sharp. The car hugged the center line.

  There were just three more turns. And then two. I wanted to close my eyes. Please slow down. Please. Please.

  Tom revved up to take the last turn. Mary moved to look back at me. Her eyes were sad and she held up her hand to say goodbye.

  I was once again, helpless to do anything.

  Chapter 22

  I heard the sedan’s tires screech from inside the van. And then metal against metal. Broken glass. I hit my brakes and slowed to a crawl. I didn’t want to see what I knew was ahead. I couldn’t bear to be a spectator to another car fire.

  Get moving! My inner voice screamed. You don’t have the luxury of feeling sorry for yourself right now. See if you can help.

  I bit my lip to the point I tasted blood and stepped on the gas to take the turn. The first thing that met me was a cloud of dust. The next, a guardrail that had been bent like a banana peel. I stopped at the end of the corner and threw on my flashers before jumping out of the van.

  By some miracle, the car had only dropped ten feet, caught by a grove of trees. It lay on its side, the rear tire still spinning. Smoke plumed from the radiator. My breathing was ragged as I tried to calm myself down. There were no sounds coming from the disabled vehicle.

  I skirted around the guardrail and slid down the embankment. It was smoky in the car but I tried to peer inside.

  The shattered windshield busted the rest of the way open through some ferocious kicks, and a very angry Tom climbed out, shouting words my grandma would have slapped me for. He half-fell off the hood and crawled over to the side of the car. He stood, trying to catch his breath with one hand on his knees.

  Unbelievably, he had a gun in the other. He turned and saw me and his eyes narrowed. He lifted the pistol in my direction, though it bobbed and weaved with his unsteadiness.

  I held my hands up. “Let’s not do anything crazy. You might really be hurt. Let me get you some help.”

  The passenger door banged open and Amy popped out. The door hit the top of Tom’s head, making him scream again. Amy climbed out while Tom crouched to the ground. He held his head as blood poured out, seemingly oblivious of the gun in his hand.

  Watching my footing, I hurried over and wrenched the gun away. Carefully, I edged a few feet back.

  “You stupid idiot!” Amy screamed, her thin arms railing in the air. “I told you to slow down! Now, look what you did!” She slapped him on his back and then tried to scramble up the hill.

  “Stop right there!” I yelled.

  She turned and her eyes tried to focus on me. “You talking to me?”

  “Yes. Stay right there.”

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but we just got into a car accident. Flipped over the deadman’s curve. I think I’ll stand where I like,” she said defiantly.

  “You stay there or I’ll shoot.” I clicked back the hammer.

  Her mouth dropped open. She raised one hand while the other went for the sore on her cheek.

  “Mary?” I yelled. “Mary? You okay?”

  The young girl climbed out of the same passenger door and darted around Tom to my side.

  “Okay,” I said to Amy. “You just sit next t
o your boyfriend and chill out. I’m going to call for help.”

  She rolled her eyes but did what I asked.

  I didn’t trust her. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, not taking my eyes off the couple.

  “Mary, I need you to help me here, okay?” I said.

  “I don’t know how.” Her voice was shaky.

  “I know. You’ve had a hard time. But you can do this. Just take my phone. Push the bump on the bottom. That’s a button. Now touch the glass and slide your finger up.” I couldn’t risk taking my eyes off of the two standing in front of me. “At the bottom is a green picture. I need you to touch it. Now look for the name, Frank. Press it, please.”

  “I—I did it,” Mary said shakily.

  “Great. Hold it to your ear. Let me know if you hear anything.”

  She held it up, jerking slightly at the ringtone. Her wide eyes caught mine.

  “It’s okay. Just let me know if someone answers.”

  I could hear Frank yell, “Georgie! Are you okay?”

  Mary squealed at the sound of his voice.

  “It’s okay,” I told her. “Tell him to come up White Horse Mountain road. Tell him to bring the cavalry because I have a gun on two suspects.”

  “You won’t shoot,” Tom said with a sneer.

  “Don’t bet on it,” I said. “I’ve done it before.” I hadn’t really, but he didn’t know that.

  Mary’s voice wavered as she relayed my message.

  Frank’s voice thundered through the receiver. “Let me talk to her.”

  “Mary,” I said calmly. “Hold the phone away from you. You see those little circles that come up?”

  She nodded.

  “Push the third one from the left on the top row.”

  Her finger quavered as she reached for it, and then Frank’s voice ripped through the air.

  “Frank,” I said. “You’re on speaker. I have the bad guys. Can you get your helpful black-and-white car up here? Like pronto? Because one is daring me to shoot him, and since I found him hurting Mary, I’m sorely tempted.”

  Tom turned green at my words.

  “On my way,” Frank growled.