Terror on Top

by CeeCee James

“Friends, huh? I trust my friends. You must not be so confident about the friendship to be breaking into his house.”

  “Those goons who came through here have half a brain between the three of them. I had to return and get the job done.”

  “So, your friend Calvin did internet security for you through Black Cat LLC, huh? Ran your money laundering through the bank and into some account. Convenient you were the bank manager. I’m guessing no one was the wiser.”

  “We are a good team.”

  “Were. The police have the IP address.” I lifted my chin.

  His breath hissed in anger.

  “And they have the thumb drive.” I hit the final nail in his coffin. It was a lie, but he didn’t know that.

  “Georgie Tanner. Why must you bait me so? You’re lucky to be alive. Might have to rectify that now.” He reached forward to grab my neck. “Tell Derek hi from me.”

  Anger made me see red. HE did this. He took the one thing I loved more than anything in this earth away from me.

  He was distracted, planning to choke me. I slammed my arm down on top of his other hand that held the gun. It clattered against the concrete.

  Even as it fell, I was turning, running to the door. I hit the garage door opener. Slowly, it rumbled open. Too slow. I could see him stooping for the gun from the corner of my eye.

  I ran to the back door. I yanked it open and raced inside. Turning, I wrenched it shut behind me. I tried to lock it but he was already right there, twisting it to get in. I tried to hold the doorknob to keep it from turning, but he was too strong. I took off running again.

  I just need to get to the front door. I just need to—

  The gun boomed. A hole appeared in the wall about three inches from my head.

  Someone started to scream from the garage.

  I ran through the living room to the front door. As soon as I yanked it open, a police officer raised his gun.

  “No, I called. “He’s behind me with a gun!”

  He crouched down. “Get on the ground! Now!”

  Wait, he wanted me on the ground? He screamed the command again. I went down to my knees and slowly lay on my stomach.

  “Hands behind your head!”

  “He’s in the house!” I yelled, frustrated he wasn’t listening.

  The officer didn’t move from his spot outside the door. I turned my head to see. He was staring intently in the interior of the house.

  Suddenly, I heard more screaming. Gun shots went off. The officer at the door raced inside. I covered my head with my hands and squeezed my eyes tight.

  “We will shoot you if you go for the gun!” one of the officers yelled. “Turn around with your hands up and walk backward toward us!”

  After a few minutes of hearing shouting, I saw Mikey McCoy being pushed toward the police car in the driveway. His hands were behind his back in cuffs. The other officer was carrying the gun in a gloved hand.

  Another officer patted me on the shoulder. “You can get up, ma’am.”

  I pushed myself to sitting. It was spring, but the ground had been cold and damp. Dried clumps of grass clung to my shirt. I tried to brush it off, feeling numb. Surreal.

  “How are you? Did he hurt you?”

  I shook my head.

  He offered his hand to me to help me stand. “Why don’t you have a seat on the porch. Take a second here. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

  Those very words made tears well up in my eyes. I half sat, half collapsed onto the porch step. I wanted to call Frank. Tears trickled down my cheek as I wrapped my arms around my knees. My body shook in fear. I kept picturing the gun only inches from my face.

  I thought about the dead man, Justin Smith. I wondered if he had been in on it or if he had tried to stop Mikey.

  A few minutes later, Officer Jefferson showed up. I legitimately let go when I saw him, a familiar face. He handed me tissues and talked calmly. Eventually, I gave the officer the full rundown of what had happened.

  “Do you have any idea of where Calvin Dunham is now?”

  I shook my head and wiped my nose.

  “Georgie!”

  Coming toward me like the rainbow inside a storm was Frank. He never looked better. I stood up and took some trembling steps toward him. I’ve never been so close to a total emotional collapse, and I think he knew it.

  He scooped me up, legs and all, and held me close to his chest. I could feel his heart thudding through his shirt. He carried me back to the porch, and slightly awkwardly, sat down with a thud. I didn’t care. For the first time, I felt safe with my arms around his neck. I didn’t ever want to let go.

  I have no idea what he was saying to me. It was mostly nonsensical words you used to comfort a frightened toddler. Things like, “Shh. I’m here. You’re okay. I’ve got you,” repeated like an endless verbal waterfall. It was working.

  My tears slowed, as did my breathing. Finally, I just lay there, slipping back into a surreal peace. The whole thing felt like a nightmare. But at least now I felt like I’d woken up from it.

  “Better?” Frank asked.

  I nodded. “Is Mikey still here?”

  “No, they took him down to the station to book him a long time ago.”

  “He shot at me,” I said, remembering.

  His arms tightened around my waist, and I felt his breath hitch. Then the soft strokes began again down my back. “He’s very lucky they took him away before I got here.”

  I snuggled in deeper, if that was possible, feeling loved and protected.

  “I think we need a vacation,” he murmured somewhere near the crown of my head.

  “We? It’s me that’s been going through this crazy-pants land.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ve dragged me along through the stress and worry.”

  “I’m sorry, Frank.”

  “It’s okay. But I’m going to tell you right now, you’re out of the real estate business.”

  His idea of a joke, but it worked. I giggled, slightly hysterical still.

  “Bubble wrap, I think that’s what it will be.”

  “What will be?” I asked.

  “Your next job. Making bubble wrap while surrounded by bubble wrap.”

  “Sounds amazing,” I laughed again.

  “Welcome to your new career, babe!”

  Chapter 24

  The next morning started with a hot cup of coffee. I’d originally intended to see Oscar, but he’d already been released from the hospital. It turned out he had suffered an angina attack. We were all relieved that he was going to be okay.

  So now, I had no plans, and that was a good thing. A very good thing. I needed time to relax and clear my mind. Maybe even take a hot bath with a book. Start a new painting? I touched a flower from the basket now sitting on my table. I should get back to my roots, maybe paint something from my Grandma’s flower garden.

  I decided on that and went to my closet to find a blank canvas. Frowning, I propped the other painting against the wall to finish drying. That one would get a coat of white paint soon.

  I set out my colors even as visions of the flower garden played in my mind. She had a wild garden, filled with roses, lilies, cone flowers, In the shady areas she always had an abundance of forget-me-knots. I was convinced that was where the fairies lived. Sometimes I would sit under the tree and build tiny houses for them, as the sun heated the grass and the bees buzzed by. And Grandma would call me in for a popsicle, always the red ones first.

  The buzz of my cell phone halted both my memories and my plans. It was the police, asking me to come down to the station to give a final statement. I’m telling you, I needed that punch card.

  Walking to the car, I gave a parting wave at my paints. I’d be back soon to attack that canvas.

  It turned out that most of my speculation I’d made yesterday in the garage was correct.

  Officer Jefferson pretty much confirmed that Jonathan Twist had no idea what Mikey McCoy (aka Seth Martin the original bank manager) was up to. It seems that Jus
tin Smith had become suspicious when Mikey wanted to move forward with the repossession of Calvin Dunham’s house. Justin knew that Calvin worked with their security department, so his disappearance and Mikey’s reaction set off alarms for him. He followed Mikey to the house and had surprised him when Mikey was locating the secret compartment in the closet. He killed him just moments before we entered the house ourselves.

  They still hadn’t tracked down Calvin Dunham. Even his son disappeared. Calvin had said something about telling his son to meet him where they used to go fishing. I had an idea they were on some island together now, enjoying a boat load of money.

  The police found his ex-wife, but she claimed she knew nothing. However, she was set up pretty nicely in the old family house. I wondered if I searched for it, I’d find The Lovers Spurned.

  Probably not. But you never know.

  I was curious what caused Calvin Dunham to turn on Mikey. He obviously felt his life was threatened, that’s why he disappeared. I guess when you work with explosive fireworks, you’re going to get burned at some point.

  Finally, the interview was over and I arrived home, exhausted. I felt a little guilty when I saw the blank canvas, because now I didn’t have time to work on it. I had a dinner I needed to get to.

  After a nice hot shower, I dug around in my closet for one of my more cheerful outfits. I needed a pick-me-up after that police interview. It was a flowery dress with pockets and spring colors. I’d just purchased it for Easter and loved it.

  Cecelia had invited me for dinner to celebrate Oscar’s recovery. I wondered what we would eat as visions of green leafy vegetables bloomed in my head. Now that his health had come into question, Stella was on a mission to make sure he would eat healthy.

  Knowing how stubborn Oscar was, I wasn’t sure how well that would work for her. Then again, Stella was pretty stubborn herself.

  I arrived at Oscar’s house about an hour later. They wanted to do it at his place so he could be more comfortable. Of course, he lived next door to Cecelia, and she was there practically as often as her own place, so it was convenient for everyone.

  As I walked up to the front porch, I could already see her touch on the bachelor pad. Basket of flowers hung from the eaves in cheerful cascading purples and yellows.

  I knocked on the front door.

  Stella answered, looking slightly frazzled with damp hair and flushed cheeks. “Oh, good! I’m so glad you’re here. Cecelia’s been making me cook, and it’s been a disaster.”

  I hurried in and slipped off my shoes. “What’s going on?”

  “Oscar wants pizza.”

  “Okay?”

  “So, Cecelia shared her recipe, and I’ve been trying to make it. She has the patience of a saint.”

  Patience of a saint didn’t seem to bode well in regard to the process of making pizza. “What’s going on?”

  “The crust doesn’t work quite like they show it on TV.”

  I walked in to the kitchen where I found Cecelia standing on a chair.

  “Cecelia! I told you I’d do that,” Stella exclaimed.

  “Never mind, dear. We’re in this together.”

  Cecelia scraped a very sad splatter on the ceiling with a spatula.

  My eyebrows rose, but I didn’t say anything.

  Stella flushed. “They show them throwing pizza dough up in the air.” There was a pause, and then she continued. “It stuck.”

  “Well, it’s free now,” Cecelia said cheerfully, holding the clump in her hand. She climbed down and tossed the dough into the trash bin. “Are we ready to start over?”

  That woman was a magic maker, and she soon had dough in the mixer. She set Stella to grating cheese, and me to browning sausage. Carefully she turned the dough onto a floured surface, rolled it, then placed it in the pan.

  “You might be happy to know that the young couple won the house at auction,” Stella said. Her hands were red from the effort of grating.

  “Really! They’ll love it. What a great fresh start for the place.”

  “I completely agree.”

  “So, why are we making pizza for Oscar?”

  “It’s the only way we can get him to eat vegetables.” Stella made a face. “I’m loading it up with fresh spinach, artichoke, onions, mushrooms and peppers.” She eyed the sausage. “And a sprinkle of low-fat turkey sausage and cheese.”

  “Where is Oscar,” I whispered to Stella.

  “Confound it, Bear! Will you give a man some room to breathe?” Oscar yelled from the living room.

  “Speak of the devil.” She laughed.

  “Is your Uncle Chris coming tonight?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah, and my dad, too. Speaking of arrivals, guess who I’m meeting next week.”

  “Who?”

  Her eyes got bigger along with her smile.

  I gasped. “Your mom?”

  She couldn’t contain her excitement and giggled. “Yes!”

  I couldn’t believe it. There was a complicated long story behind Stella’s relationship with her mother. I never thought I’d see the day where they’d finally meet.

  “That’s incredible, Stella!”

  “It’s been a long time coming.” She sighed contentedly and finished the last few grates on her lump of cheese.

  My sausage was also done. I set it on paper towels to drain and then turned to Cecelia. “Would you mind if I go in and say hi to Oscar before everyone gets here?”

  She dried her hands on a towel. “No, you go right on ahead, GiGi!”

  I walked into the living room where Oscar’s Pomeranian pup lifted her head as I entered the room. She gave a happy little yip and jumped off his lap.

  “Bear! For Pete’s sake!” Oscar grumped from his quilted cocoon of lap blankets and sweaters.

  She ran over to me and spun around like an orange tornado. I tried to pet her, but in her excitement she licked my arms, spun some more, and then jumped and half-danced on her back legs.

  “Calm down, Bear. Dagnabbit. It’s like you’ve never seen another person before. Where are your manners?” Oscar bellowed.

  I smiled, happy to see he was back to his old self.

  Bear could not contain herself. I whisked her up and into my lap, where she proceeded to climb my chest, letting me feel those sharp little nails, so she could give my face a good lick.

  I finally corralled her down to my lap where she curled into a ball and gave a contented sigh.

  “So, how are you doing, Oscar?”

  “Doing? Not very darn well, I’ll tell you. Why isn’t my show on? I’ve been waiting all week to see who wins,” Oscar asked, his hairy eyebrows lowering.

  “I don’t know.” I answered. I grabbed the remote to turn the TV on.

  “Cable’s out, Oscar! I told you they said they were working on it.”

  “The cable’s always out!” he grumbled. “That company can’t do anything right. Take my money month after month. Those guys would mess up a one-car funeral.”

  I snorted, and he smiled himself, a tiny one, but I caught him just the same.

  “Other than your shows, how are you feeling?”

  “I’m about as good as you can be with two flutter-budgets constantly harassing me about poached foods, pills, and vegetables.”

  “I can hear you, old man!” Cecelia yelled.

  “And fluffing my pillows! I’ve never had such gosh-durn fluffy pillows!” he hollered back. He sat back and crossed his arms. I could see a pleased glint in his eye behind those thick glasses he wore. He’d had the last word. That’s all he cared about, regardless of if it made sense or not.

  “Now what about you? I’ve heard you’ve been busier than a mosquito at a nudist colony.”

  “It’s been a rough couple weeks, that’s for sure,” I admitted.

  “Well, I have a bone to pick with you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Mike McCoy! I’d been after him for years. You took him down at a real estate open house over a plate of cooki
es!”

  Well that wasn’t exactly how it happened, but I let it slide. “It was pretty intense. I have to admit, I was terrified.”

  “I’m embarrassed I didn’t know Derek was DEA. Sure, we had our secret interdepartmental stuff, rivalry, and undercover issues, but I should have known. All I can say is that was my last case before retirement. Maybe I should have hung up my hat sooner.”

  “You can’t know everything, Oscar. Nobody’s perfect.”

  He started to ruffle at that, so I quickly amended it. “But you’re pretty darn close.”

  A real smile cracked his face then. Made me smile as well. Then his face went serious. “You did good, Georgie. Anyone would be scared in that situation, or an idiot otherwise. I’m proud of you. You did what you needed to do, despite being scared. And Derek would be real proud.”

  Tears pricked my eyes at his mention of Derek. I rubbed Bear’s ears. Finally I gulped out, “Thank you.”

  I was proud of myself. I vindicated Derek’s name and showed what a hero he really was. He’d died a hero, trying to bring down the kingpin of Pennsylvania. And, in a way, he’d still succeeded even after his death. Because I’d loved Derek so much, anger had fueled my actions toward the end. And now Mikey was going away for a very long time.

  “Sometimes we have to close one chapter to be able to move on with the story. How you feeling about that?” Oscar asked.

  “I’m not sure how to close the chapter, exactly,” I whispered.

  He sighed, his nostrils flaring. “It’s not that the chapter stays closed forever. Like every good book, we can look back. Reread our favorite parts. Always hold it like a treasure in our hearts. But the only way to get another chapter is to face forward so we can appreciate the new treasures and adventures as they come.”

  I thought about Derek. Trying to heal from his death had been the most difficult thing I’d ever had to do. There were mornings I’d wake up in bed, and I’d forget for a moment what had happened. Then I would remember and my whole world would come crashing down on me again. I really believed I wouldn’t survive the grief… that grief was just a slow way to die.

  But I did survive. And not only survived, but found life again. A life where birds made sense once more, and rainbows and flowers made me happy like they had before.