Fury From Hell

by Rochelle Campbell

  He grinned at them as both women turned and gave him sour faces. Feinster even stuck her tongue out at Clift.

  “We’re going to Rossini in Starret City next —”

  “Spring Creek,” Yearwood corrected Feinster.

  “That condo complex by the Belt that’s a city within a city? The one that was formerly a landfill? Well that place — whatever they want to call it nowadays — is where Rossini lives. We figured we’d stop here for lunch, since it’s on the way.”

  “Same here, we’re heading out to Staten Island and wanted to fuel up,” replied Clift.

  Betty paused as her burger was set down in front of her. She watched as the waitress placed the dumplings in front of Holden. Her nose tickled at the tantalizing aroma of spices and teriyaki sauce.

  “Wow! That smells good! No wonder you had a Jones for them. Can I try one?” Betty’s mouth watered as she eyed Jennifer cutting into a fat dumpling and dipping it into the sauce.

  Placing the steaming morsel in her mouth Jennifer grinned before saying, “You can order your own.”

  Even Yearwood couldn’t hide his smile as Betty’s face fell like a child being denied their favorite candy bar.

  “Holden!”

  With the tension broken, Clift turned to Jennifer, “I know you didn’t do anything, Holden. We all, here, trust you,” he said pointedly looking at Yearwood before turning back to her. “But, from here on out you have to tell us everything so we can have your back. Capeche?”

  Munching thoughtfully, she nodded and glanced at Yearwood. She saw he was focused on the coffee that was being put in front of him. In that moment, she knew she’d tell Clift anything he wanted to know but would reserve all comments when Yearwood was present.

  Clift nodded and took a sip of his coffee.

  Jennifer decided to take the next step. “The Rennkler case. So far sounds like we’ve got a whole lot of nothing. Any thoughts?” She looked around at each of them hoping to see a spark. She was desperate to get back to her own case but knew if they didn’t get a break in the Rennkler case she’d never get back to her Barnes case.

  Clift frowned and shrugged. “Nope. We gotta hope that Rossini or Giordano say something or else…”He shrugged again to emphasize his thoughts. His eyes lit up as the waitress came through the kitchen door with a tray laden with food heading in their direction. Clift’s mouth watered as the heaping plate of Chicken Marsala was placed before him.

  Yearwood cast his eyes at the older gentleman and began mechanically eating his food. He wanted this tête-à-tête to be over and done with so he could get on with what needed to be done.

  The Fury held onto the man’s rage. The original host was sitting across the booth from the brash male cop but the demon wanted her alone and couldn’t figure out how to make that happen.

  Abatu looked through Yearwood’s eyes and noticed the crowded table. With a smirk the demon made him jerk his hand knocking over Feinster’s virgin cocktail. The drink spilled all over Feinster and Holden and splattered onto Clift’s Chicken Marsala.

  “Damn Yearwood! My Marsala! Whatcha do that for?”

  “You make it sound like I did it on purpose! It was an accident. This damn booth’s too small. Sorry Holden! Here, let me help you dab that…” With a few napkins in his hand, he reached out and dabbed the damp spot on Holden’s arm.

  The Fury took that moment to make the jump but flew straight into a translucent wall. For a second the Fury felt nothing but shock. Two seconds later a burning started along the Fury’s arms that heated up and soon became intolerable.

  In that instant, Holden felt a great speeding energy coming towards her centered on the arm Yearwood was touching. Just before the racing energy hit her, an invisible shield seemed to halt the energy from connecting. From a distance, Jennifer felt a burning rage that was too familiar. It was pure evil and seemed intent on getting to her. Jennifer eyes widened as she stared into Yearwood’s. They were bright red and filled with hate. She watched him yank his hand back and yelp.

  Shock filtered through Holden as she saw the man’s eyes revert back to their normal baby blue hue. She blinked a couple of times and looked again. Yearwood’s eyes were perfectly normal. He sat back and was rubbing the hand that had touched her. After five seconds had passed, realization slammed home. Jennifer’s back stiffened.

  “This stain is just going to get worse if I let it set in. Can you let me out Clift? I’m going to the ladies’ room. Feinster? Can you come help me?”

  Still grinning from Yearwood’s juvenile antics, Betty shrugged and followed Jennifer to the restroom leaving Yearwood to blot the worst of the drink stains off the table while Clift tried to salvage his meal.

  Once inside the bathroom, Jennifer whirled around to face Betty and blurted, “Yearwood’s got the Fury inside of him! It tried to jump back into me just now at the table! That’s why he spilled the drink so he could touch me!”

  All merriment faded from Betty’s face as she absorbed what she had just been told. Shaking her head she said, “No impossible! Furies don’t do men. They prey on them not possess them.”

  “Isn’t that precisely a great reason why the Fury would choose Yearwood? It makes perfect sense! We wouldn’t suspect him and he could observe me without raising suspicion. It’s the perfect cover! This Fury Abatu is very cunning.” Jennifer turned towards the sink and stared at her reflection. She was as pale as her medium brown complexion would allow and her lips were pinched looking from the tension she was feeling.

  Still in denial, Betty said quietly, “That’s…impossible.”

  Then how else do you explain the red eyes and the feeling of complete overwhelming rage I just experienced when he touched me? I’m no demonologist but humans don’t have red eyes last time I checked.”

  “I was sitting right there beside him. I didn’t see his eyes go red.”

  “It was only for a split second. And they probably went red because the Fury couldn’t get in because of the Goddess’ bath you and Lady Ariella made me take.”

  Turning on the water, Jennifer splashed her face. It was difficult because her hands shook so much but she managed to sip some of the cool water as she tried to stop the galloping of her heart. She looked into the mirror and caught Betty’s eyes. “Thank you for ignoring my whining, and making me take those baths. If you didn’t I would have the demon inside of me right now.” On the last few words Jennifer’s voice trembled just before her knees buckled.

  Betty caught her before she hit the black and white tiled floor.

  “Betty, it almost had me,” she whispered firmly squeezing her eyes shut.

  Betty gripped her shoulders and turned her chin so they were facing one another. “Now you listen to me Jennifer Holden, you were not almost gotten. You were protected! That Fury must have gotten a nasty surprise to know it couldn’t just traipse back in. Get up. You don’t have to go back to the table.”

  Jennifer looked up at Betty from her half-slouch and blinked a few times, her face expressionless, eyes lost.

  “I’ll make our excuses and get us gone. Jennifer, I promise I’ll keep Yearwood away from you. Okay?”

  She nodded, stood up and splashed more water on her face.

  Betty noted the robotic movements and made a mental note to pick up a Red Bull to try and help Jennifer get through this latest ordeal. “Meet you in the squad car, okay?”

  Jennifer nodded woodenly and began scrubbing the arm Yearwood had touched with the cool water.

  Sighing, Betty patted Jennifer’s back and left. Her friend’s empty eyes haunted her as she forced her feet to take her back to the table.

  Yearwood watched Feinster approach and noted that Holden was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Holden?” He asked peering behind Feinster.

  “She’s still trying to dry her shirt. Think we’re gonna get going and head on out to Staten Island. It’s already 12:50 and we don’t want to hit rush hour traffic coming back. We’ll catch you back at the precinct.” She dropped so
me bills on the table and nodded at both of them ignoring Yearwood’s narrowed gaze. She refused to look into his eyes and quickly backed away from the table and headed out.

  Clift looked from Betty’s retreating back to Yearwood’s scowl and knew that he was missing something but he couldn’t figure out what.

  ***

  Holden felt better with each mile they put between her and the Diner. She was still shaky from the near repossession and had returned the passenger seat. Right now she was ready to go back to the safe house and stay there for the rest of her days. This is too much. I can’t live like this!

  Jennifer didn’t hear Betty dial so she was caught off guard when she heard Betty speaking.

  “My Lady? We’ve got a situation. The Fury just tried to jump back into Jennifer — No! It wasn’t successful. But Jenn’s pretty shaken up. Wanna talk to her?”

  Betty thrust the phone at her a second later. There was no choice in the matter so she took it gingerly and put it to her ear saying nothing.

  “Jennifer, I know you’re very upset right now but this is a victory! You were not repossessed…you must remember that. The bath works! Say this with me, ‘With the Goddess, all things are possible.’”

  The words were impossible and improbable. She had stopped putting her faith in anyone outside herself a long time ago. The parade of psychiatrists, psychologists, therapists and counselors had made her doubt herself, her life and her sanity. Where was the Goddess — or, her male counterpart — back then when she was just a child? Wiping the unwanted tears away Jennifer tried to repeat the words to appease the women who were making her start to hope that there was goodness in the world. However, the words got stuck in her throat.

  “Say it with me, Jennifer,” coaxed Lady Ariella. “I’m here for you and Kamali’s with you. We won’t let the Fury get you. We’ve stopped him twice already. You can have faith in us and we have faith in the Goddess. You will grow into your faith if you hang around us. Say it with me, ‘With the Goddess, all things are possible.’”

  The words whispered in her mind and bounced off her skull before sliding out of her mouth.

  “There. Don’t you feel better?”

  Jennifer had to admit that the world did seem a bit brighter but she wasn’t sure that it was due to her having said a string of meaningless words. “A little,” she hedged.

  “Well, keep repeating it to yourself, ‘With the Goddess, all things are possible,’ and see how you feel later on. We’ll talk some more when you get in. Bye, now.”

  The line went dead and Jennifer blinked rapidly as the tears began to flow uncontrollably. Without her conscious permission, the words Lady Ariella wanted her to repeat seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time in her mind. She turned toward Betty and saw on her profile a determined grim look as she focused on the road. With the Goddess, all things are possible…but are they?

  ***

  Forty minutes later, Betty parked in front of a white house with a wooden fence. It had brightly colored window boxes with dried flowers in the dry beige crusted earth still trying to survive November’s chill. An even nicer touch was the thick hedge on the sidewalk in front of the pretty home. They were waist-high and still green.

  Whoever lives here certainly enjoys landscaping.

  Jennifer appreciated the well maintained trimmed hedges and didn’t hear her partner speak.

  “We’re here. Will you accompany me? Or, do you want to stay in the car?”

  Jennifer gazed at the picture-perfect home for a moment. Still looking out the window she said, “I’ll stay in the car and keep watch from here.”

  Feinster squared her shoulders bracing herself to face this alone but still felt a deep concern for her friend. Betty sent a prayer-wish to the Goddess for Jennifer’s continued protection. She reached out and squeezed Jennifer’s shoulder giving her friend a bright smile. Betty shocked herself because the smile was genuine and not tinged with the anxiety she felt. However, it did no good as Jennifer was still staring out the window.

  Getting out of the car, Feinster approached the house and opened the picket fence. She rang the bell and heard it tinkle throughout the house. Betty didn’t hear any voices, no dogs barking and no feet coming to the door. All was quiet. A wrinkle appeared in between her eyes and she rang again.

  From the squad car, Jennifer noticed that the curtain in one of the second-floor windows moved slightly. Narrowing her eyes, her cop instincts came out shoving the fear that was warring with the depression into the background. She leaned closer to the window and trained her gaze upon the upper window. It moved again after a few moments. Someone was definitely up there.

  Jennifer slid over to the driver’s side making sure to keep down. She opened the door and slid out onto the ground trying to move the door as little as possible. She kept her movements slow and scuttled towards the rear of the car stopping by the back wheel, truly grateful for the hedge now. She pulled out her ankle piece and removed the safety hoping she wouldn’t have to use it. Eyeing the hedges with admiration she dashed towards them running bent at the knees; her head nowhere near the top of the hedge.

  She heard Betty press the bell again. This time, there was a sound. A single shot rang out.

  “Shit!” Betty cursed and Jennifer heard her dive into the shrubbery under the flowerboxes in the front yard.

  “Giordano! We just want to talk to you. Put down your weapon.”

  “Like hell I will!”

  Another shot rang out and hit the patrol car knocking out the back passenger window. Safety glass sprayed on Jennifer but she stayed in place. From the sound of it, the shot came from the first floor. Jennifer darted over to the second set of hedges and scuttle-walked to the end of the hedge and peeked around them to see if there was a break in the wooden picket fence so she could get into the back yard. Hell and damnation. Nothing!

  In that instant, Jennifer realized the fence could be a cover, a flimsy one especially with her dark clothing in the early afternoon but it was all she had. She took a breath and ran towards the fence on the far side of the house. Controlling her breath, she reached it without incident. Crab-walking around the side of the house and down the driveway of the neighbor’s property Jennifer dared a half-crouch and ran the rest of the way to Giordano’s back yard where she jumped the low white wooden fence and flattened herself against the back wall of the house underneath the windows. From the front of the house she heard her partner again.

  “Giordano, I’m Detective Feinster and I’m here to ask you some questions about your whereabouts last weekend. This is not exactly the best way to have that conversation.”

  His reply was another shot.

  Jennifer gritted her teeth and went for the back door. It was unlocked and she slid in noiselessly, finding herself in the kitchen. Jennifer assessed her surroundings. There were two exits; one a stairway leading upstairs, and the other into a hallway. She assumed the hallway would take her up front to where Giordano was crouched probably in the living room, or dining room. Keeping low and quiet she went into the dimly lit hall and avoided the bric-a-brac table with the crocheted doily and yellow Capodimonte single rose sculpture.

  Her eyes adjusted to the gloom. She forced her breath to slow, and her mind to focus. Coming up to the doorway she took a chance and peeked in. There was a man crouched by the front windows. As she watched, he raised a few inches to peer out the window with his Glock firmly held in his right hand. Taking aim, Jennifer shot, aiming for his right wrist, and was rewarded with a gurgled scream and the clatter of his weapon. She dove behind the wall in case a shot discharged from his gun. Hearing nothing, Jennifer charged around the corner and saw Giordano cowering by the window clutching his hand as blood dripped freely through the fingers of his left hand. Kicking the gun away she called out to her partner, “Get in here! Got him subdued.”

  “Already on it, partner.”

  Startled, Jennifer smiled without taking her eyes off of Giordano and asked her p
artner, “What took you so long?”

  Smirking, Feinster came from behind Jennifer and frisked Giordano. She made sure he had no other weapons on him and handcuffed him securely, bloody hand and all.

  He sat sullenly and said nothing. He only glowered at them.

  Dragging him to his feet Feinster said, “I think you’d better start talking now. Assaulting an officer of the law with deadly force is a pretty serious charge. You could lighten up your load if you tell us where you were last Friday evening.”

  “Go to fucking hell! I want my lawyer. This is breaking and entering as far as I’m concerned.”

  “My squad car has a busted window and the bullet from your gun will be found in it. I’m sure that your claim of breaking and entering without cause will not be substantiated. Oh, by the way, this here’s my partner, Detective Holden, if you were wondering. So, do we talk here, or at the precinct?”

  “You gonna let me bleed to death?”

  Feinster looked down at his wrist and back up into his hawk-like grey eyes. “It looks like a flesh wound to me. What you think Holden?”

  She grinned mirthlessly, before replying, “Yeah, it’s just a little scratch, is all.”

  “So where were you Friday night?”

  A bit of fear crept into the man’s eyes as his eyes swung back and forth between the two cops who had their guns trained on him. His boxer’s frame no longer seemed imposing and his big left hand clutching his right wrist made him appear frail. With the bass leaching from his voice he started to talk. “Can’t a man go to the casinos in peace?”

  “Which casino?”

  “Resorts World.”

  Betty shot Jennifer a look before turning back to Giordano. “Which one?”

  “The one in Disneyland. Where the fuck else? The one in Queens,” he used the wall to push himself upright.