“I did nothing to hurt Debbie or your wife, this whole thing is ridiculous. If you let me leave now, I will agree not to press charges. In fact, I will go home straight away, pack my bags, and leave. We’ll just put this unfortunate incident behind us.” She says in a calm voice hoping to convince him.
He laughs that horrible chuckle again.
“Now who’s delusional? You aren’t going anywhere.”
“Why not? You have your facts distorted. I did none of things you accuse me of and though your daughter’s death was sad and senseless, it had nothing to do with me or anyone else at school. You know as well as I do that Debbie had problems at home. YOU caused her death because YOU couldn’t accept that she was gay, and you made her life a living nightmare because of it!”
“You are a liar!” He yells while jumping up and lunging at her. The chair knocks over as he pushes her down into the bed shaking her by her shoulders, “Your success is only built on lies and the gravestone of my daughter.”
Shaking her rapidly and ferociously, her head is flopping around on her neck as if she were a rubber chicken. “Stop! Stop! No!!” She croaks as his rough hands wrap around her neck squeezing so hard that she can already feel her body weakening and the air seeping from her lungs.
Kicking and flailing while gasping for air, she is fighting for her life when she finally gets her knee in the right position and pulling it up as hard as she can, she knees him in the groin. Instantly he releases his grip on her neck while yelling out in pain. Rolling onto her side she is still struggling against passing out. Sucking in the air as fast as she can, she is scrambling in her mind to think of her next move. With only a brief second to decide, she is on her feet running for the door. Just as she reaches the overturned chair, she is about to step over it into the hallway when Gus is hollering after her, grabbing her cast arm. “Not so fast!”
She is half in the hall and half in the room struggling to yank her arm back. Her eyes are blurry and burn from the lights in the hall as she hasn’t seen a bright light in weeks. Not caring what is waiting for her ahead, she throws all her energy into thrusting her body into the hallway, yanking her arm away, with a rush of the stinging pain in her shoulder. Ignoring the almost debilitating pain, she blindly runs, stepping right into the stairwell that is a straight shot down. Her body thumps and bounces down each step with a sickening thud. When finally, she reaches the hard wood floor, she lies there for only just a moment before she tries to scramble to her feet. She is shaking and doesn’t realize that her assailant has flown down the stairs after her and is now tackling her from behind.
“Arnie! Worthless idiot, where are you?” He shouts.
No answer.
“Arnie! Dammit! Help me!” He hollers again while she continues to flail her body fighting against his attack.
Shrieking “Help!” at the top of her lungs, she fears her fight is futile.
As she struggles she hears the swooshing sound again that she heard upstairs and much to her horror, he is forcing a plastic bag over her head. She whips her head side-to-side to make it hard for him to get it over her ears. Tightening his grip across her chest he is working with one hand to pull the plastic over her face. Picking up her feet so his one arm is supporting all her weight he loses a hold on the bag while trying to keep his grip around her torso. She takes her hand and snatches the bag off her head, causing it to float to the floor while he whips his free hand around trying to catch the bag. Throwing himself off balance, he stumbles, to avoid falling he releases his grip, and she breaks free.
Running the few feet to the front door, her hand is on the knob as she is about to open the door, the bag is around her head again, this time she cannot break free. Ripping and clawing at the bag, it’s no use because it’s much stronger than a flimsy grocery bag.
She fights the urge to gasp for air fearing that will make it worse. Taking shallow quick breaths, she continues flailing her arms around hoping to break free again. The air in her lungs is almost gone and the feeling in her legs is going numb. Instinctually, she knows she is about to lose consciousness and the fight is ineffective. Allowing her body to go limp, she drops to the floor while Gus relentlessly holds the bag over her head.
Right as everything goes dark, she sees a row of lights shining on the wall traveling up to the ceiling suddenly appearing above her head. Her last thought and prayer are that maybe the Calvary is here to save her.
“Gus Halverson! This is Sherriff Warren. I’m here with backup.” He yells over the loudspeaker through his police cruiser.
Rushing into the tiny kitchen, he notices Arnie sitting in a chair in the corner near the backdoor passed out with an empty bottle of whiskey in hand. Oblivious to the events unfurling around him, his drunken snores fill the otherwise quiet cabin.
Punching him in the chest, Gus yells, “Get up moron!”
“Owww!” He hollers from the pain inflicted, “What was that for?”
“Get up and find out for yourself…we have company.” He says nodding toward the windows that are illuminated from the cars parked outside with their headlights pointed at the house.
Shielding his eyes, “What the heck?” Arnie slurs.
“Sheriff and the gang are here. It looks like they surrounded us.” He shakes his head then spats on the floor near Arnie’s feet, “I should have known that Greg Hart and Barry Sweitzer were going to screw me over!”
“What’s Greg and Barry got to do with this?” He slurs again while casually leaning over to tie the laces on his steel toed work boots.
“They came by the store today and asked if anyone was using the cabin, like an idiot I told them no.”
“Why would it matter?” He scrunches his nose then sways as he stands.
“Because you idiot, they were up here snow shoeing or some fool thing like that and saw smoke coming from the chimney and the lights were on—during the day. It doesn’t take someone brilliant to figure out something was up.”
“Shoot!” Arnie exclaims.
“It’s all your fault too!”
He punches in a code on the key pad of the cabinet. The door pops open and he reaches in and grabs two rifles handing one off to Arnie he grunts, “Hope you still know how to use one.”
“I wanna try a handgun, like on them police shows.”
“Well I don’t have a handgun. I wasn’t planning on having a shoot-out tonight.”
“Fine. I’ll pretend I’m huntin’ fer squirrel. We openin’ fire or do you have a different plan?”
While Arnie and Gus discuss strategy. Sherriff announces over the loudspeaker again, this time with a marked agitation to his voice.
Laying in a heap on the floor, the plastic bag draped loosely across her face, her body jerks as she regains consciousness. Her eyes flutter open and she instantly coughs, gasping for air to refill her lungs. Snatching the bag off her head she sits up straight looking around the room for signs of her captors. Shaking away the fog, she sees that the door to freedom is just a few feet from her. Quickly taking multiple cleansing breaths, the adrenalin kicks in and she scrambles to her feet then rapidly unlocks the deadbolt, jumping through the threshold onto the front porch, the frigid cold instantly chilling her to the core. Ignoring the weather conditions, she takes another step toward the porch steps but stops as if suddenly paralyzed when someone yells from behind her, “Not so fast!” at the same time she hears the distinct click of the rifle being cocked.
Stiffening she does not move as she feels the barrel of the gun grazing the middle of her back between her shoulder blades.
“Put the gun down Gus!” Sherriff coaxes.
“Now you know, that I can’t do that Bill.” He says in a drawn-out manner with a curl of his lip and a furrow of his brow.
“Come on Gus, you don’t want to hurt her. Now put the gun down and let her go.”
Gus kicks at the porch with his booted foot but does not respond. Shaking his head left to right rapidly, he’s clearly fighting the torment he feels.
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“Please let me go.” She pleads.
He rushes forward in an angered huff, “Shut up! You shut that worthless mouth of yours. We are all here in this mess because of YOU! If you had just died after the first accident, we wouldn’t be here.”
She gasps, “You did that?” Her heart beating out of her chest while her mind races to recall all the so-called accidents and intentional attacks on her and Tim.
“You ninny, I did none of it, I have people for that.”
She turns to look at him, but he presses the barrel tip further into her flesh.
“You mean your goon Arnie?”
“Among others.”
“Gus!” Bill shouts, “Can’t we work something out? You know the FEDS will be here any minute and they will be a lot less patience than me.” He encourages as he tries to coerce him into dropping the gun.
“Move forward.” He grumbles.
Knowing the gun is still on her, she carefully moves forward swiftly and just as she does, they hear an angry shout come from right inside the screen door. Immediately following the sound of two shots being fired. Suddenly, Arnie is punching through the screen door with the netting swathing him as he is hopping on one foot screaming in agony. With all the kafuffle distracting him, Gus lowers the gun from her back. Without hesitation, she takes the opportunity and risking being shot, she runs down the front steps.
“Get back here!” He shouts.
Not caring, she continues running to safety as she hears the gun fired at her back. In the arms of the nearest first responder she is gasping to catch her breath. Shaking uncontrollably, she turns back to see what is happening on the deck. She is just in time to witness Arnie struggling with the rifle as he flails it around while regaining his composure, he fires off another round.
Without missing a beat, one of Sherriff’s men fires off a shot that hits Arnie in his shoulder. Dropping to his knees he lands on the deck behind Gus as one shooter points his gun at Gus’s chest, the red dot visible to all who are looking.
Screaming with pain, Arnie yells, “I give up, don’t shoot me again! I shot my foot and my shoulder.” He whimpers “Help me! I’m gonna die!”
“Shut up wuss!” Gus hisses at the wounded man who is now laying in a heap behind him with the screen door netting still wrapped around part of his torso.
Sherriff turns to his shooter, “Don’t fire until I give the signal. I want to work this out if I can,” He adds, “With no one else getting hurt.”
Out of the line of fire, Ellen watches with high anticipation while putting the horror they have put her through on the back burner for the time being. All that matters now is that they have freed her.
She silently gives thanks to whoever had a part in finding her and without so much as a moment to spare.
As the sound of more approaching vehicles alerts everyone, she prays that it’s her parents coming to take her home.
She looks at Gus who is still waving around the rifle wildly as the headlights pointed at him are enough to blind a person.
“Gus. Are you ready to negotiate yet? You no doubt hear the cars coming that will be the FEDS and I assume you know what that means.”
“So, what!’ He spats. “I got nothin’ to live for. My kid, my wife, I’m alone.” He chokes back the grief but instead, his body shudders. Fighting with his emotions, he staggers forward and with a gasp from the various onlookers, the sharp-shooter digs his feet in, ready for action.
“Put the gun down Gus. You know this is over.”
He waits another minute then reluctantly lowers his weapon, allowing it to drop to the deck, landing at his feet then instantly raising his hands in the air he yells, “I’m all yours Bill!”
“Stand down.” Bill says quietly to the sharp-shooter who disengages his weapon with hesitation.
As the swirl of activity ensues, and now that it’s safe, they usher her to the waiting ambulance. Her body sore, and her spirit wounded, she notices the last car to roll up is her parents and someone else. She narrows her eyes to see through the mist and low lighting to make out the final figure in the car to be Ben’s. Relief washes over her that they finally arrived, all of them.
Chapter Fourteen
Ellen sits on the edge of the ambulance much like you see on a tv drama, with a woolen blanket wrapped around her, and fixed gaze on her face. The medics are taking her vitals and fussing over her injuries, which are plenty, while she watches everything take place as if she were simply an onlooker not a participant.
As the rest of the scene unfolds, she laments to herself how much like a movie set this is, minus the large camera cranes, boom mics and a bored crew waiting for her to say her lines. This time though, she doesn’t know what to say. She has not been scripted for this.
The whole situation is surreal. It seems like people just keep showing up— people she has naturally never seen before and all of them appear to be there in an official capacity. Someone has already alerted the press and somehow the vultures have already circled, found their prey, and set up camp on the edge of the make-shift ‘set’ where they have been relegated. With helicopters flying overhead and vans loaded with crews setting up camp, it is nothing short of an absolute media circus.
Her hot breath mixing with the cold air causes steam to emulate from her mouth as her breathing is labored due to the strangling combined with the sheer terror that has been hers to experience for the last several weeks. To keep her nerves in check, she focuses on the little puffs of steam and tries not to think about anything else. Though it is proving difficult as her rescuers have questions.
Tim and Kathy haven’t taken their eyes off their daughter. They are being kept at a safe distance while the officials ask their questions. Kathy notices that she is answering almost as if she were void of emotion. Maybe all emotion has been sucked from her. A person can simply withstand only so much before the break point is tested, and the mind shuts down for self-preservation.
“She’s had enough, I can tell.” Kathy whispers to Tim.
“I know. I should have made her go back to LA after the first attack. This whole thing is my fault.” He chokes.
Placing her arm around her husband to offer comfort while she whispers, “Maybe we are both to blame. I wanted her home with us for the holidays. But listen, we can’t beat ourselves up now. Let’s save that for later once we are past this mess.”
Sniffing he straightens his back, “Yeah, I suppose there’ll be plenty of time to chastise myself later.”
“Listen, I think we have what we need for tonight. We would like to come by your house tomorrow morning to ask you more questions. There are holes in the timeline that we need to fill in.” Agent Lowens instructs.
Nodding vacantly, she stares off into space… wishing this was all over with.
Finally, Tim and Kathy can join their daughter. Agent Lowens nods to Tim, who stops to shake his hand.
“Thank you for returning our daughter to us!”
The agent clicks his tongue, “You can’t thank me, it was your sheriff who followed up on a tip that led us here.”
Tim tries to contain his emotions for a few more moments enough to say, “Well thank you and your team for your efforts.”
Rushing over to Ellen, they grab each other into a three-way embrace. The tears of joy overflowing in the emotional reunion.
When they pull away, Tim notices immediately the magnitude of the damage that has been done. The sparkle in his daughter’s eyes has disappeared. It’s expected in a situation like this, but who knows if the fire has been irreparably squelched.
“We are so glad you are safe, we hope they will let us take you home soon and…” Kathy’s voice drops as she notices Ellen is not listening but something else has her attention. Following her gaze, they watch as the FEDS bring Gus Halverson down the front porch stairs. His hands cuffed in front of him they lead him to a cruiser. Ellen pushes past her parents and anyone else in her pathway.
“Gus! Gus!” She shouts as she ru
shes to the cruiser with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders and tails of the blanket wagging in the breeze. “Wait! I have something to ask you.”
With a furrow of his brow, Agent Lowens seems to contemplate her request then with a shrug of his shoulders, he steps aside as she advances to the car. With one of the other agents holding out his arm as if to give her boundary, her eyes narrow on the face of her captor.
“I have a few remaining questions; why did you hang onto my mother’s locket for so many years? And how did you get a hold of my bird? How do you know so much about my mom? You weren’t even here when she disappeared!!”
With a look of utter confusion, he responds, “I had no locket and what bird? I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“But my mother…”
The look of recognition washes over his face, “Oh. I see. You think I had something to do with your mama’s disappearance.”
She nods.
“Well like you said, I wasn’t even here when all that happened. I hate to disappoint you but I aint got nothin’ to do with that nonsense. I’ll take the whipping for what was done to you but not your mama. But I’ll let you in on something,” He pauses, “I hear that most of the male population of Thunder Valley had a crush on her back in the day… makes you wonder what kind of woman causes that kind of stir, now doesn’t it?”
She suppresses her anger by taking a deep breath, “To be clear, did you hire that guy to break into my house? Drain my gas tank or run me down? Please! I must know!”
Shaking his head with a sick smirk on his face, “I don’t have to say another word but if I was you, I would watch my back, it seems you’ve made a few enemies.”
“No! You can’t leave me hanging, who’s the coward now? I should think you would want to claim your accomplishments!” She spats.
He smirks again, “I hadn’t thought of it as an accomplishment, think of it more as righting a wrong. And hell, you’re still standing there, aren’t you? Mission not complete. But from the sounds of things, someone else out there is bent on finishing what I started, and I am okay with that. It takes a village huh?”
Secrets of Thunder Valley- The Locket Page 13