by Makenzi Fisk
“This must be the one.” Ciara towered over Erin and appraised her with bright hazel eyes.
Allie shook her head. Her friend was checking out her girlfriend. Above black combat boots, Ciara’s pastel patterned dress waved in the breeze. With her dark shoulder length hair, she was a walking specimen of feminine power. Ever since their university days, Ciara had been critical of Allie’s love interests. The weak-hearted found her mere presence intimidating.
“I’m definitely the one.” Erin stood and groped for Allie’s hand. “You didn’t tell me she was British,” she whispered from the side of her mouth.
“Didn’t think it mattered.” Allie squeezed her hand in reassurance. She had long-since ceased to notice her friend’s accent and it had never occurred to her to mention it. Ciara was just Ciara. Besides, the strength of her accent came and went depending on her mood, and how much she’d had to drink.
“Well, it doesn’t, but…” Erin left the rest to Allie’s intuition.
Allie gave her a half-smile. Was Erin worried that she’d neglected to mention other things? Was she worried about a romantic connection? That would be ridiculous!
“And this must be the legendary Wrong-Way Rachel!” Ciara lay flat in the grass, nose-to-nose with the now-relaxed cat.
Rachel’s eyes widened at the approach of the stranger, but she stubbornly held her ground.
“Who’s a good kitty?” Ciara cooed, scratching her behind the ear. “You are!”
As if hypnotized, the cat slowly rolled to her back and allowed access to her underbelly.
Erin tilted her eyebrows at the brilliant Japanese-style tattoos covering Ciara’s entire left arm. Sleeved-out they called it.
“She may look fierce,” Allie whispered. “But all cats adore her.” She squeezed Erin’s hand again. “You will too.”
After a few minutes of kitty love, Ciara got to her feet, pulling the fluffy cat into her arms. “Sorry I am late. I was working on my thesis in the park.”
Allie grinned. She’d been right. She took the cat from her and untangled the leash again. Rachel struggled for freedom.
Ciara retrieved her bicycle from the end of the driveway. A throwback from decades past, the pink urban cruiser even had a flowered basket mounted in front of the handlebars. She rolled the bike to the rear of the house, propped it against a tree, and scooped her notebook from the basket.“
“Don’t use the front steps.” She led them to the rear porch. “They’re treacherous and that door sticks. I always use the back.” She turned the unlocked knob and Erin raised her eyebrows. “The lock doesn’t work properly,” Ciara said, “so I don’t bother with it. Last time I did, I had to squeeze in through the upstairs bathroom window.”
Allie followed her line of sight to the tiny window above the porch overhang. It was anyone’s guess how she’d managed to get up there. Knowing Ciara, she’d balanced with one foot on her bicycle and the other on the rickety rail.
“I ripped this fabulous dress that day!” She smoothed a neatly sewn patch on the hem.
“Aren’t you concerned about a break and enter?” Erin examined the knob.
“Nah. If anyone wants my junk, they can have it.” She clutched her notebook to her breast. “Except this. My entire Master’s thesis is in here.”
Erin shot Allie a look when they filed into a dingy kitchen. A stack of unwashed dishes and a month’s worth of mail greeted them. Tidiness had never been Ciara’s strong suit. It wasn’t that she was unclean, but housekeeping was not high on her priority list. When Erin winced at the dirty pot on the stove, Allie reassured her with a hand on her elbow. Once the kitchen was cleaned, Erin would relax.
“If my feet could talk, they would be screaming right now.” Ciara unlaced her heavy boots and stretched bare toes on the dusty floor. Allie did the same and the two grinned like compatriots. Ciara led them down the hall to their room.
“You can put your things in here.” She flung open the door to a dining room that had been converted to a surprisingly spacious sleeping area. “I need to run out to do an errand but I’ll be back later. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Round-eyed, Erin closed the door to face Allie. “We can stay in a motel.”
“Oh come on, Honey.” Allie set the cat on the bed and opened the curtains to release a plume of fine dust. “We haven’t budgeted for a motel stay. You’re on leave and I haven’t billed any new clients yet. We need to be careful.”
“We can put it on our credit card.” Erin coughed and rubbed her eyes. The cat hopped off the bed and patrolled the perimeter of the room. “Look, even Rachel is not so sure about this place.”
Hands on hips, Allie was about to remind Erin that she was not a wimp but paused at her desperate tone. “Give it a chance. It’ll be fun.” Flakes of paint rained down from the protesting windowsill when she forced it open. “We’ll help Ciara tidy up. She loves when I take over and clean the house. When we’re done, it’ll be nice.”
She pressed herself against Erin’s body and wrapped her in her arms. Their energy blended, blue, or perhaps turquoise. If she had to attribute a color to this feeling of harmony they had, that would be it.
“Okay,” Erin purred. “You know this place is stretching it, but I’d do anything for you, Baby.”
“It’ll be like a pre-wedding honeymoon.”
Erin froze. Their mingled energy cooled to a darker indigo.
Allie bit her lip. Why did that theme keep popping up? Wasn’t their current relationship enough? Did she really want to get legally married?
Erin turned away. “Uh, let’s go find the cleaning supplies and we can get started first thing in the morning.”
CHAPTER 11
Erin rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t slept well on the unfamiliar mattress in Ciara’s extra bedroom. Somehow, between Allie’s nightmares and her own worries, she’d managed to get a few hours, but she was still tired.
She stacked a box on top of the shoe rack. She’d simply raked the pile of mail from the kitchen table and dumped it inside. Now Ciara could ignore her bills as long as she wanted and they would all be here when she decided to pay them.
She put down her screwdriver and stared at the bare counter. Where had they gone? They were here a few seconds ago. She was sure of it. She bent and checked under the cabinets. There was no sign of the two screws she planned to use to replace the handle on the silverware drawer. They couldn’t have disappeared into thin air. She checked her pockets and then turned in a circle, scanning the floor. She stared at the silver handle in her palm. The screws must have fallen somewhere. Was she losing her mind?
She whirled around at a muffled thump, just in time to see the bottom cabinet door bounce against its frame and it dawned on her. Wrong-Way Rachel, her favorite feline arch-villain was playing tricks on her again.
Erin took one silent step, laid the handle on the counter and crouched by the door. She flung it open.
“There you are!” A box of breakfast cereal and two jars of peanut butter stared back. Where was that sneaky cat? On her haunches, Erin duck-walked to the next cabinet and did the same. No cat there either. Tiny hairs prickled the back of her scalp. She checked all the cabinets without success.
A crash behind her raised the tiny hairs upright. There was the handle on the floor. It had to be Rachel. There was no other explanation, was there?
Stealthy movement in the dinner plate cabinet got her attention and she eased open the door. A telltale tuft of Persian cat hair nestled on the top plate. Rachel had been in here. Erin thrust her hand into the cupboard, past the plates and around the wine glasses. In the rear corner, hidden from view by the stacks of dishes, was a cutout in the wood. She poked her fingers through and cool air wafted past. In the bottom cupboard, she found the same.
At some time in the home’s renovation history, workers had removed ductwork and neglected to patch the wall. This secret passage allowed a sneaky feline access to the top and bottom cupboards through the abandoned holes. Wrong-Way R
achel was adept at opening cabinet doors and was probably enjoying her new spelunking adventure.
“Give me back my screws, you rascal.” Erin knocked on the cabinet door closest to the most recent scrabbling noise. She was rewarded with silence. The cat knew she was on to her. A moment later, a screw ricocheted off the counter and she looked up to a set of unapologetic yellow eyes. On top of the cabinet, Rachel licked the back of her single front paw. Apparently, the cutout in the wall extended that far.
“One? Is that all I get?” The cat stretched full length, her purr rumbling in satisfaction. “No catnip for you today, missy.” Erin opened the junk drawer at the end of the counter and searched for another screw. At this rate, it might take all summer to fix everything in this old house.
Her head pounded. Ciara was gone and Allie had just left for a yoga class. She headed for the sofa. Now would be a good time to take advantage of the quiet. She’d have a quick nap and finish cleaning when Allie got back.
Erin discovered that the living room sofa was a divine spot to nap. It had just the right combination of softness and structure. By the time her girlfriend breezed in the door from her class, she was rejuvenated. Back to her old self.
“I found these for you. That upstairs bathroom is scary.” Erin kissed Allie’s cheek and handed her a pair of rubber gloves.
“Is it that bad?” Allie winced.
“Don’t worry, there aren’t any spiders.”
Allie rolled her eyes. “I’m not afraid of spiders. Just monsters.” She jogged up the stairs. Where did she get her energy?
Erin attacked the rest of the kitchen. When she finished, she sat back and assessed her work. Under the pile of pizza boxes and unopened envelopes, she’d been flabbergasted to uncover an antique table. What a shame to hide such a unique piece. She ran her fingers over the grain of the hand-rubbed wood finish. Stunning, really.
She sat in an equally amazing chair to admire the sheen on the scrubbed countertop and gleaming stove. The time on its digital clock glowed in red.
She sprang to her feet. It was nearly five o’clock! She’d promised to meet Barb Schmidt at a coffee shop at five-thirty and hadn’t yet figured out how to get there. All she knew was that it was miles from here. She poked at the screen on her iPhone and huffed in frustration.
“Allie!” she called up the stairs. “Can you spare a minute?”
“What’s wrong?” Allie’s voice sounded muffled, like she literally had her head in the bathtub while she scrubbed it.
“I need to meet Mrs. Schmidt in half an hour and I can’t figure out the GPS. Can you tell it to do what I want?” Erin vaulted up the stairs.
In the bathroom, Allie’s face was flushed and her hair in disarray. Yellow rubber gloves extended to her elbows.
Erin took in her soap streaked jeans and soaked T-shirt clinging to her shapely waist. She had certainly been putting elbow grease into her work. “You look gorgeous, Baby!”
“Why do you tell me these things at the weirdest moments?” She snapped off a glove and took the phone from Erin. Seconds later, she handed it back. “You enter the address first, and then click Navigate. Not the other way around.”
“You’re my favorite tech-head, and the cutest.”
“Are you sure you want to go on your own? I can get cleaned up in—”
“Um, I think you need a shower before you go anywhere.” Erin stroked hair from Allie’s face and kissed her on the eyebrow. “Besides, Barbara Schmidt is freaking out and we shouldn’t overwhelm her. She sounded paranoid when I talked to her on the phone.”
“Maybe she’s got a point. She was nearly killed, wasn’t she?”
“True, but she’s afraid that Lily is constantly stalking her. I wonder if her imagination has gotten the better of her. Lily’s only a kid, not a super spy.”
“Please remember that I have a conference with my new clients tomorrow. Don’t make me show up on Ciara’s bicycle with my presentation in the flowery basket.”
“I promise I won’t go to any clandestine meetings when you need the truck, and I’ll even wash it for you before you go.” Why was Allie having pre-meeting jitters? Didn’t she already know the outcome?
Allie turned at a crashing noise in the bathroom. “Rachel!”
Erin grinned as she made her way out the door. The cat was probably knocking breakable stuff off counters, settling in by doing some feline housekeeping.
The drive to the coffee shop was shorter than she’d expected and Erin arrived early. She parked across the road and walked to the building, noting the adjacent paved alley with light industrial businesses on one side and older residences on the other. The shop had a half dozen tables and stools against a window counter with a view of the street. Two young men turned as she walked in and she nodded politely when they greeted her with friendly smiles. A couple at a corner table was too engrossed in conversation to notice her.
Erin looked over the handwritten menu, and the pierced and tattooed barista. Unaccustomed to the variety of personal expression in a big city, she couldn’t tell if she was a he, or he was a she. Both? Neither? She finally decided that it really didn’t matter and focused back on the menu.
Moose Juice, Winnipegger Bacon ’n Egger, and the Windy City Smoothie made her smile. The Bacon ’n Egger actually sounded pretty good. She might have to bring Allie here for breakfast. She dismissed the plethora of specialty drinks and ordered a nice dark roast. A good strong cup of coffee would clear the dust from her throat and perk up her tired brain.
She settled into a corner spot at the window counter where it would be easy to keep an eye on customers and watch for anyone coming from the street or alley. Her first sip of coffee convinced her that this would be a regular drive. Ciara didn’t seem to have a basic coffee pot, let alone a fancy Italian cappuccino machine. Erin would have to fend for herself. She swished the last of her coffee and checked if the barista was busy. Another one would be nice.
A dark green sedan emerged from the alley and cruised past the window. Erin straightened up, coffee mug poised halfway between table and lips as a middle-aged woman with large sunglasses turned her face to the building. The woman looked in her rear-view mirror and then yanked her car to the curb. She swiveled her head to both side view mirrors before exiting. With one last glance over her shoulder, she gingerly eased her waistband away from her skin and walked stiff-legged into the coffee shop. She darted straight for Erin, the only woman sitting alone.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” She slid onto a stool and shielded her face from the window. Twisted cords of healed flesh knotted the back of her reddened hand. At her throat, melted skin like bloody wax dripped from her jaw until it disappeared into the neckline of her shirt. Erin’s eyes lingered on her hand and the woman pulled her sleeve over to conceal the scars.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Schmidt.” Erin rose and stuck out her hand, careful not to stare.
Barb flinched. “I know I look ghoulish,” she ducked her head. “I’m sorry if my appearance scares you.”
Erin decided to ignore this. “Do you want a coffee?” She sat back down and put her hand on her coffee mug.
Barb shook her head. “No, there’s no time.”
Erin forced herself to focus on Barb’s face. She could barely see through the lenses but, eyes puffy, Barb looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks.
“She might find me.” Her lips pursed and she tilted the dark glasses to peek around the room. “Is it safe here?”
“You’re safe.” Erin leaned away from her. Was she always nuts, or did Lily do this?
“I must be careful. She follows me everywhere. She’s trying to kill me.”
“Tell me what happened.” Erin took out her notebook. Telling her story might keep her from spiraling into madness this very minute.
Barb regarded the notebook for a moment and took a breath. “You’re a fish out of water, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
Barb looked out the window, then back. “We
ll, you’re not even a police officer here, are you? What can you possibly do to help me?”
“I can work with local police who have the authority to act.” Erin omitted the fact that Winnipeg Police Service had been less than willing to take her seriously when she’d contacted them. Even north of the border, last year’s police scandal in Minnesota was fodder for gossip. “And I have a personal interest in the case.”
One of Barb’s scarred eyebrows lifted. The hair would forever be missing from the outer half. “She got to you too, didn’t she?” She took off her sunglasses. Her eyes were red. “Lily is a wicked girl. Evil. Maybe even the devil.” Her chest heaved.
Pen poised in the air, Erin kept her face neutral. “Please, tell me what happened. Tell it like you are describing the action, play-by-play.”
“Well, you know we went to pick up Gunther’s granddaughter in Morley Falls last year. She was family after all. We couldn’t leave the child there on her own after he took ill. Especially after what the poor thing went through, with her sinful father and all that.”
Erin didn’t have the heart to tell her that the story of Lily’s abduction and abuse by her father was the child’s fabrication to hide her own sins.
“She looked so innocent, so…” she searched for the right word, “…so vulnerable.” Her eyes narrowed and scarred brows puckered. “But that little demon was probably born spitting venom.”
“Mrs. Schmidt.”
Barb’s expression smoothed and she straightened her shoulders. “I’m sorry.” She readjusted her shirt sleeve. “You just wanted the facts.”
Erin nodded.
“She seemed so sweet, at first. We saw how she didn’t fit in with the other kids and Albert knew she was a bit different right from the get-go, but he really took to her. She helped with the dishes and kept her room tidy and went to bed on time. I made her lunch and walked her to school every day, so she would feel safe and loved.” Her voice wavered and she stared directly at Erin. “She never really was unsafe in Morley Falls, was she?”