“He’s married?” Haley nearly shouts.
“Divorced now.”
“Phew,” she says dramatically.
“Once he and Dustin became partners, we’ve grown closer. He’s still like a big brother to me.”
“A hot big brother,” she laughs.
“I told you, he’s not that hot.”
“Liar.” She gives me a knowing look.
“I’m with Preston now.” I remind her.
“Good, then I’ll go after him. He can protect me all he wants.”
“You’re awful,” I giggle.
Chapter 14
Gabby
The bath water burns my feet as I step in. I jump back out of the tub, splashing water on the bathroom floor. Chester cocks his head at me from his perch on the back of the toilet.
“Out of practice on this relaxing thing,” I say to the cat and turn cold water on to balance the hot.
I wait naked and shivering for the water to be just right. My nerves jump in my chest. I’d rather go for a run to calm them, but darkness falls early this time of year and it’s blustery outside. Running alone in the dark and cold holds no appeal, so I settle on a hot bath.
With the water just right, I sink in. The heat embraces. I take a deep breath and lean my head against the back of the tub.
Chester jumps from his perch on the toilet back to the wall of the tub. He reaches a curious paw at the water.
“I thought cats didn’t like water.” He reaches again, almost slips, but catches himself.
I laugh at his antics and the stress seeps away. I close my eyes and think about Addlynn. I really want to return to the hospital, sit with her and see more of what happened.
The new guard at the door will no doubt send me away on orders of Lucas and Dustin. But they can’t stop me from thinking.
The muffled ring tone of my cell filters through the closed door. “Crap on a cracker, I left my phone in the other room,” I say out loud. “Chester, will you go get it?”
Chester continues to lick his now wet paw.
I ignore the phone and sink lower into the water, replaying my visions for the millionth time, hoping to see a clue I missed.
The cross tattoo on my forearm tingles.
I rub it hard to make it stop.
It continues to tingle.
“I know I should be there with her, but I’m not allowed,” I yell at the tattoo. “Just leave me alone.”
The tattoo begins to sting. I listen for the silent nudge that normally tells me what I’m supposed to do. No message comes.
My arm tingles painfully and any hope of relaxing disappears. I sit up hard, splashing water at Chester who jumps away in an angry huff. I cup water in my hands and splash my face.
I need to get out.
The still warm water gurgles down the drain as I turn out the light and go to my room to get dressed.
I’m anxious and angry as I slip on soft pants and a hoodie, preparing for a long evening of frustration at not being able to help.
My cell beeps. I have a voice mail waiting. I check the screen, expecting to see Preston or Grandma’s number. The number is unfamiliar. I play back the voicemail and search for fuzzy socks in the pile of clothes tossed on a chair in my room.
“Uh, hi, is this the psychic woman?” a man says on the message. I prepare for something vile, some mention of freak or witch. I’ve gotten those calls before.
The man continues, “You don’t know me, but I got your grandma’s number from a guy who knows her and she gave me this number.” Nothing too menacing yet. I find one of the socks I’m searching for. “My name is Nolan,” I drop the sock in shock. “You know my girlfriend Addlynn.” He pauses like he’s waiting for a response from me, then continues in a rush. “I didn’t know who else to turn to. They hurt Addlynn and now they’re after me. I don’t want to go into it on this message, but I need your help. I’m at the Mac Mart out on, what road is this?” Nolan asks someone in the room with him. “The Mac Mart on Donnolly Rd. Please help me, I’m scared they’ll find me. I hitchhiked here and I don’t have a car. Can you come pick me up?” Nolan pauses in his message. “Uh, okay. I hope you get this. I’ll be out front waiting. I don’t know what else to do.”
The message ends.
My tattoo stings, insistent and burning. Hurry.
“I would have been on my way already if you had been more clear,” I yell at the tattoo.
I grab whatever socks and shoes I can find, snag my jacket from the hook by the front door and sprint to my car.
The Charger roars into life and the tires throw gravel as I back wildly onto the road. I know the Mac Mart he’s talking about. It’s a small convenience store on the far side of town from my house, nearly in the country. It will take me a bit to get there, even if I hit all green lights.
I take the first turn out of my neighborhood too fast, slip a little on the drizzle damp road. My purse slides across the front seat, spilling its contents. I hear a familiar clunk as my phone slides into the passenger door and then under the seat.
“No, I need that,” I yell at no one. “I need to call Lucas.”
I don’t waste time searching for my phone, just keep driving, my heart beating wildly. The first light I come to is green and I sail under it. The next one is red and I stop behind a line of cars. “Move,” I yell.
I try to fish out my phone, but I can’t reach it. The light switches and I speed on.
The drizzle picks up and turns to true rain. My wipers squeak eerily on the windshield, adding to my agitation. My tattoo sizzles my arm, but I don’t rub it. I keep both hands on the wheel, noticing they are bare. I forgot my gloves.
The minutes stretch, agonizing. I hit another red light and pound the wheel in frustration. Moments tick by, their passage marked by the steady squeak of the wipers.
Who’s after him? Why didn’t he call the police instead of me? Why can’t I reach my phone and call them myself? If he didn’t hurt Addlynn then who did? Where did he come from? The questions swirl in a frenzy of confusion and anxiety.
“You can ask him when you see him. Just get there,” I tell myself out loud, trying to gain control of my racing emotions.
Just a few more blocks to the turn at Donnelly Rd., then just a few blocks down is the store. I focus on that.
The rain increases and it gets harder to see to drive. Oncoming headlights glare through the windshield, refract on the water. I turn the wipers faster and the screeching provides short glimpses of clear vision.
I turn on Donnelly and can see the lighted red and white sign of the store. An oncoming truck has it’s brights on, and I can barely see. The car barrels directly towards me, and I snap the wheel to the right to avoid being hit.
The blinding lights slide past me, just missing the side of the Charger. “Watch it,” I scream in frustration. The truck careens back into their own lane and speeds away.
The parking lot at the Mac Mart is deserted and the inside lights of the store are dark. The store is closed. How did Nolan call me from here?
One small fixture over the door provides an island of light in the heavy, wet darkness. I pull in slowly towards the light searching for Nolan. The wipers slap angrily and I turn them down a bit. The place looks deserted.
My tattoo practically screams at me.
“Where is he?” I whisper.
Near the end of the building my headlights land on a bench. A thin figure sits on the bench, waiting.
I pull in parallel with the sidewalk and jump out of the car.
“Nolan?” I ask.
The figure makes a noise I take as a yes.
“I’m Gabby. You called me.” Rain pours on my hair, drips down my face. Nolan’s arms wrap across his belly, holding himself against the cold. I open the passenger door for him. “It’s freezing out here. Get in and we can talk.”
The young man gets to his feet, takes a step. He loses his balance and falls against me, knocking us both into the passenger seat. His weight p
ushes heavy on top of me, pinning me to the seat.
Terrified, I push him away. “What are you doing? Get off me.”
He doesn’t fight back. “Nolan, stop it.”
His head rests on my chest, his body shakes. I think he’s crying, in relief or shock or I don’t know which.
“Is Addlynn okay?” his voice the barest whisper.
“She’s at the hospital.” The situation bewilders. I push at him again, confused.
I think I hear him say, “Good.”
He shakes again on top of me, then lies still. “Come on Nolan, get off me. I’ll take you to her.”
He doesn’t move.
His body presses heavy and intimate on mine. The space between us warm against the cold and rain.
Too warm.
Too wet.
Chapter 15
Gabby
The seat belt latch stabs painfully into my back. The wipers screech across the windshield. The rain beats on the roof.
And a wet heat spreads across my belly.
“Nolan?” I ask gently. He remains limp on top of me.
I slide my bare hand between our bodies. Hot and sticky, I pull my hand away. The dashboard lights fill the car with soft green light.
The blood on my hand drips along my palm, splatters on Nolan’s back.
Screams tear out of me.
A sudden rush of adrenaline mixes with my panicked shove, and Nolan slips sideways, wedges on the floor board. His legs hold me down.
I kick and scramble, frantic to get away. I drive my foot against the door jamb and push. The center console scrapes against my back, but I manage to get out from under him. A tangle of limbs in the front seat, my breath comes in hot gasps.
My head is shoved against the door, my hips raised by the center console, my legs pushing against Nolan’s body.
My instinct to escape battles with my instinct to help him. I pant in short bursts, mixed with screams. My head spins and my vision blurs. My erratic movements force my head off the seat and under the steering wheel. I’m upside down.
Panic consumes and I kick and scream to get away. Blood pounds in my ears, my face burns. My forehead slams into the bottom of the steering wheel and pinpricks of light dance before my eyes. I scream in pain, kicking my feet above me like a bug on its back.
A sudden sharp stab at my tattoo breaks through the panic, centers me.
I cry out in pain and hold my arm. The door.
My high pitched gasping breaths mix with the incessant screeching of the wipers. I focus on the wipers, count the beats. My breath slows and my head clears.
The door handle gives way under my sticky hand and the door swings open.
I’m free.
I roll awkwardly out of the car, land on my hands and knees in a puddle. The shock of the cold water snaps me out of the panic.
Not trusting my legs, I crawl around the car to Nolan. He’s face down on the floor board, his legs hang out of the door getting drenched from the rain. I try to turn him over, to see his injuries, but he’s too heavy.
Too still.
I search his neck with my bare hand, hoping to find a pulse.
Addlynn’s gone, dark eyed girl mocking, don’t worry I’ll keep you company now. We can be new mother and father. Disgust, never take Addlynn place, what did you do? Made sure she couldn’t get in our way. Anger, horror, where is she? Hand on her throat, dark eyes begging. With the witch.
Shivering on the bench, waiting, worrying. Will she come? Will she help me? Customer’s come, customers go. Nameless faces. Store lights go out. Alone and scared. Hey, buddy, got a quarter? Familiar face. Fear. Blade. Cutting. Alone in the cold, alone in the dark. Where is she? Shivering cold creeping. Headlights.
The vision rocks my over-spent nerves. I snatch my hand away. I don’t need to find a pulse, he won’t have one.
“No,” I scream at the dark. “I was so close. Why did you take him? Why didn’t you send me sooner?”
I sink into the puddled asphalt. Rest my right hand on his leg. “So sorry, Nolan. So sorry,” I sob. I lean my forehead against the cold door jamb and cry desperately. “I failed you.”
The rain falls around me, bounces on the ground. I’m soaked through and shivering.
Alone and destroyed.
The wipers continue their squalling.
Angry, I shoot to my feet and run to the windshield. I catch the first wiper on the upswing. I wrap my hand around it and pull with all my strength. It rips off the car with a satisfying snap. I throw it across the dark parking lot with a yell.
Scrambling over the hood, I tear the other wiper off and throw it.
The squeaking has stopped.
I lie across the hood of the Charger, listen to its grumbling engine against my ear. It’s warm here. I want to close my eyes, fade into sleep to the lullaby of my car.
But I have work to do.
Nolan may be dead, but his killer is out there.
I keep an extra pair of gloves in my glove compartment. Nolan’s shoulder leans against the little door, but I manage to force it open enough to fish one glove out.
With my left hand protected, I feel brave enough to search for my phone. It has slid under the seat, and I have to shove my shoulder against Nolan’s hips to reach it. I cringe at the indignity I must inflict on the young man. He deserves so much better than dying jammed in my car, then being rough handled by me.
Phone in hand, I stand in the tiny island of light at the stores entrance. I dial 9-1-1. A familiar voice answers.
I cut Regina off before she can ask for my location.
“Send an ambulance to the Mac Mart on Donnelly,” I say.
“Gabby?” The single word drips with venom.
I don’t have time for her drama. “There’s been a murder at the Mac Mart on Donnelly. Send an ambulance. And send detective Hartley,” I add.
“What trouble are you in now?” Regina growls.
“Just send them.” I hang up and put the phone in my pocket.
The wind whips my hair and I pull up the hood on my sweater. It’s soaked, but affords some small relief.
Cars drive by on the road, people doing their usual things, living their usual lives. It’s surreal how they can keep driving, completely oblivious to the horror a few yards away.
I huddle against the brick of the building, the only shelter available. I’m not getting back into my car.
I stare at Nolan’s legs hanging out of the door and drown in desperation. Rain drips off my hair and down my face. I wipe the drops away and look at my hand. Most of the blood has washed off now, but remnants of it still stain.
Tears roll quietly and I don’t try to stop them. I shiver against the brick and wait.
And try not to hate myself for failing.
Soon the parking lot swarms with a sea of emergency response vehicles. The bright lights and moving bodies a sharp difference from the bleakness I’ve been standing in.
Paramedics work on Nolan, although there is nothing they can do for him now. Someone wraps me in a metallic blanket, but I refuse to talk to anyone beyond directing them to the body in my car.
I need Lucas.
Before long, I get my wish.
“You’re freezing,” he says in greeting. I appreciate his concern and the fact he doesn’t immediately grill me for information. “Come sit in my car. It’s warm there.”
I take the same seat I took yesterday, the metallic blanket crinkling under me. His wipers are on and I ask him to turn them off. He gives me a few moments to collect myself, waits for me to talk. I can feel the questions pouring off him.
“It’s Nolan,” I start.
“Addlynn’s Nolan?”
I nod. “He left me a voice mail to m-meet him here. He said they were after him and he needed help. I got here as s-soon as I could, b-but.” I start to stutter from the shock.
Lucas hears it.
“Just stay calm, take your time.” I don’t want to continue, don’t want to tell him how Nola
n died on top of me, about my panic to escape.
I pull my phone out of my now-wet pocket, “You can listen to it.” I manage not to stutter.
He takes the phone and listens on speaker. I feel like I’m listening to a ghost. I stare out the window and watch Dustin striding around, taking control of the scene.
The message ends and Lucas says, “Can I keep this? It’s evidence.” I nod, not caring about that detail right now.
Lucas waits a few more moments for me to go on, then prompts me, “What happened once you got here?”
“He was on the b-bench. He looked cold and scared, but I didn’t know he was hurt. I invited him into the c-car. He f-fell on t-top of me. I didn’t understand. I p-pushed him, but he wouldn’t get o-off.”
I wrap the blanket tighter, hoping for some comfort, some security. “Then I felt the b-blood. He asked about Addlynn. Then he went st-still.” My voice cracks, but I fight for control. “I managed to get out of the car and go to him, but he was d-dead.”
“How did you know for sure he was dead?” He sounds like he already knows the answer.
“I tried to find a pulse, but I saw him get murdered instead.” No stutter, just grief.
Lucas thinks a minute, not surprised. “What did you see?”
“First he got in a fight with the same dark-eyed girl I’d seen before. She said Addlynn was with the witch. She obviously meant me. Then he was waiting for me on the bench. Someone familiar asked him for a quarter, but then stabbed him. He was waiting for me.”
“You had no way of knowing what was happening. No way of stopping it.”
“I should have known. Why can I see things if I can’t see the important things? The things that might help someone?”
My question doesn’t require an answer, but Lucas is spared trying by a knock on my window. Dustin motions for me to roll the window down. The rain has dropped back to a drizzle and blows in my face. Dustin puts his arm above the window and leans in close.
Message in the Fire Page 9