Fury From Hell

by Rochelle Campbell

  “Great service tonight but I’m not stupid. What do you need?”

  Chad flashed another killer smile pursed his lips and leaned his elbows on the bar. “It’s kind of sensitive.”

  “Isn’t it always? Means it’s about a woman.”

  “Bingo.”

  “She a cop? That why you bought my drink?”

  “Two for two.”

  “What she look like?”

  Chad shrugged, “Dark hair. Wears it in a bun. Slim with a demure look to her but I think secretly she’s a hellcat.”

  “Black and youngish? Hangs around an older tough looking tall White blonde female cop?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “That would be Detective Holden — Jennifer.”

  “That’s the name she gave me. I guess that’s good for starters.”

  “Sorry. Lost cause. She doesn’t hang out with the other half of humanity. Only seen her with women. Gotta wonder, you know?”

  Chad’s back went rigid. “Nope, I don’t wonder. She’s not into women. She’s just…particular about who she sees.”

  With a sly smile the cop picked up his drink and downed half of it in one go. He set it down carefully never taking his eyes of Chad.

  “You like her, huh?”

  Chad’s face was impassive. He straightened up and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “She’s cool,” Chad paused and assessed the burly cop. Chad wondered what was up with the woman and why she garnered such animosity from her male colleagues. “Can you help me with her?”

  “How do you mean? Seems you’ve already met her…”

  Chad wondered how much the guy knew about Jennifer’s current predicament and her IAD issues. Not wanting to give anything away he made a snap judgment. “Yeah. Got her number, too. But, dunno where she lives. Can you…help me get to first base?”

  The cop’s eyes went wide and he goggled at Chad. “Wow you really got the hots for her. But what’s in it for me? What do I get for my troubles?” He picked up his drink again and watched Chad with unblinking eyes.

  Considering his options carefully, Chad took an extra few moments to reason it out in his mind. “I tell you what her kisses are like and try and find out why she seems to dodge you guys in blue.”

  The bigger man’s eyes widened a fraction assuring Chad he had guessed correctly. Browbeater grunted and dropped his gaze. He finished his drink and pushed the empty glass towards Chad.

  “Give me another, and your number. I’ll text the info when I get it. You better keep up your end of the bargain and I want to know more than how she kisses...”

  Chad had no intention of betraying Jennifer in that way but just raised an eyebrow at the man and inclined his head. Chad mixed a third drink for the cop. When he finished he grabbed a napkin and wrote his number on the back of it. Placing the drink on the number he slid it over to him. “Thanks and you owe me for the last two.”

  The cop pulled out a twenty and slapped it down. “Keep the change.”

  Chad nodded at the cop and turned his attention to some other boisterous customers a few seats down. After serving a full round of drinks to a group of jubilant stockbrokers Chad looked back up the bar and saw that Browbeater had left. After doing a visual check of the whole bar Chad realized the cop was gone.

  Stifling a sigh Chad hoped that Browbeater would come through. For whatever reason, since their conversation a few hours ago Chad felt an immense need to see her tonight even though it was only Tuesday. He wanted to make sure she was okay. The cock and bull story she tried to ply him with was clearly some kind of elaborate ruse to get rid of him but his gut told him something was truly askew. He knew they had connected on a deeper level than normal last Thursday night. Chad was determined to find out what had happened to her since then that left Jennifer feeling that her only way out was to run and why in such a bizarre manner? Maybe atheists are all crazy. He laughed to himself and threw himself into work waiting and hoping his cell would buzz soon.

  ***

  Tuesday, November 13th, 8:07 P.M.

  “Jennifer, stop fiddling around and get in the tub!”

  “If the regular strength bath made me itch what’s this one gonna do?”

  “Hopefully save your sorry ass again! We don’t know if the Fury can adjust and overcompensate. It touched you. Maybe it can figure a way to get past this bath, now. The best way to ensure that it can’t do it as easily as it may have thought is to double the strength and hope that throws off anything it may have pre-calculated. Now, get in.”

  Betty shoved her towards the tub and tugged the white fluffy towel so it slid off of her. Baring her teeth at Betty, she stepped into the warm light brown water with sticks, twigs, leaves, and what looked like foamy moss floating around in it making it look like a giant tub-sized vat of vegetable broth.

  “Make sure you dunk your whole head so that the bath can protect you. Every inch of you needs to be touched by that bath. Got it?”

  Blowing out a frustrated sigh, Jennifer nodded refusing to answer knowing something she didn’t mean would come out. She dunked her head under the water and held her hair back with her right hand. Her thumb covered a tiny spot just behind her left ear as she dunked. She moved her hand, sat up and splashed herself good. She looked over at Betty who was watching carefully. “Good?”

  “Did your finger touch your neck or head when you pulled your hair back?”

  Jennifer paused and tried to remember but shook her head. “No, got all my skin drenched.”

  “Yeah?” Without warning, Betty took the glass off the vanity and scooped up some of the herbal bath and dumped it over Jennifer’s unsuspecting head.

  “Aaaah! You sonofabitch!”

  “Hmphf. Good. That ought to do it. You can come out. We’ve got to go.”

  Jennifer, completely drenched and fuming, hurled obscenities at Betty’s retreating back. Betty bustled about the bedroom and packed Jennifer’s few belongings wondering if Jennifer’s life would ever get back to any semblance of normalcy. Shrugging the thought away, she focused on her task and sent a prayer-wish to the Earth Goddess to walk with them this night, victoriously.

  ***

  Tuesday, November 13th, 7:50 P.M.

  Freeman took out his gun when he was in front of Clift’s door and pushed it open slowly. He saw Clift lying on the floor with his eyes glazed over and no Yearwood. He turned to Pettijohn.

  “Go find Detective Paul Yearwood and bring him to me. Whatever you do — don’t let him get away.”

  With a determined look Pettijohn saluted him again and raced off.

  Entering the office Freeman looked at the body. There were no external wounds. No bruising of any kind that he could see. The look of pure agony on his face made Freeman’s heart lurch. From the looks of it, his heart gave out. Shaking his head Freeman looked around the office. All seemed intact.

  “Please let this be from natural causes, Clift. But where’s Yearwood?” he said thinking out loud. Freeman pulled out his phone and called it in knowing that in a few minutes the office would be swarming with cops and EMT personnel. He stood up and went behind Clift’s desk.

  Freeman froze. Clift’s personal e-mail was still open and the unsent message to Detective Holden allowing her to continue working on the Barnes case was as clear as day. Freeman covered his face with his hands. With this e-mail, Clift had pretty much made himself an accessory to whatever Holden was up to.

  Freeman looked over at the dead man and whispered, “What the hell were you thinking old man?” He now knew that the entire four man Rennkler homicide team would have to be investigated. When EMTs arrived six minutes later, they found Freeman standing behind the desk staring at the ceiling.

  ***

  Tuesday, November 13th, 8:40 P.M.

  The big slab of Prosciutto was pulled from the corner of the showcase window and Chad watched as the bulbous-nosed deli man handled the twenty-plus pound cured meat and sliced off a nice chunk.

  “Thinly sliced?�
�

  “How else?” Chad smiled at the man but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  Chad turned away as the man put the meat on to the electric slicer. He still couldn’t believe Jennifer had tried to brush him off. Holding on to his emotions Chad forcibly stopped himself from going down that road.

  Chad had taken an early break after the burly cop’s departure. Browbeater’s departure made the bar and its beautiful flashy clients seem pointless and uninteresting all of a sudden. He sighed as the one singular thought that had been haunting him slipped through his mind again, Why’s she lying to me? And what’s up with the whole paranormal stuff? Chad stared out the deli’s window into the dark night beyond. He was agitated more than he had ever been over a woman and he had no idea why it was Jennifer — of all the women he’d dated — that affected him so much.

  “Proscuitto on a roll, with provolone, and a smear of mustard; with a pickle on the side. Am I right?”

  Chad swung around and gave a terse nod. “Right you are, Max. And I owe you $6.75.”

  “What’s on your mind? Looks like woman trouble to me,” Max leaned on the counter as Chad paid the gum-snapping bored bleached redhead at the cash register. “And if you ask me — which you didn’t — she ain’t worth it.”

  Chad looked up sharply. “How can you say that without knowing the details?”

  “What’s there to know? You come in here all the time on top of the world with not a care and women falling all over you left and right. Now you’ve got a small dark cloud over your head like you’re Eyeore or something — not good. Whoever this chick is she has you twisted. No chick’s worth all that. They’re a dime a dozen.”

  Chad grabbed the white paper bag and stared at Max. He wished he could ignore the older man’s words but for some reason he couldn’t. “Not this one. She’s perfect. Smart, savvy, tough and feminine all at the same time. But…”

  “She’s got issues, am I right?”

  “Ahh…yeah. You could say that.”

  “You’ve been coming in here for ‘bout two years now. I feel like I owe you this one pearl of wisdom,” Max locked Chad into a hard gaze. “If you think this girl is all that and a bag of chips, you do something about it. You don’t let her go for nothin’. You do whatever’s necessary to get her to talk to you, get her back or whatever it is you need to do. Don’t let nothing stop you.”

  Chad stared hard in the deli man’s stone gray eyes and something clicked. He knew that he had to go see Jennifer…now. Nodding slowly at first, then more vigorously, Chad thanked him and left with a bit of pep in his step and hope in his heart. His first stop was going to be her precinct. He didn’t even bother to clock out at the bar as he hurried towards Gold Street.

  ***

  Tuesday, November 13th, 8:42 P.M.

  Closing up the safe house was infinitely easier than getting into it. Betty set the alarm and pulled Jennifer along with her out the door, her belongings in a rolling weekender bag that bumped down one side of the double front cement stairs while Lady Ariella took the other side. The three women headed to the High Priestess’ car parked down the street and got in without exchanging a word.

  “What’s the plan?” Betty asked.

  Lady Ariella looked over at Betty in the passenger seat and smiled warmly. “Jennifer gets to meet our coven sisters tonight.” Stunned, Betty looked at the High Priestess with her mouth slightly agape.

  “But, how are fourteen of us going to gather? Aren’t we only supposed to gather with thirteen?”

  “Kamali, you may recall the lesson where I told you and the others that the whole thing about groupings of 13 is just a myth. A gathering of one is enough for the Goddess. I see we must go over some things. Did you also forget that I should have a male counterpart in the form of a High Priest in the coven as well?” Betty looked at Lady Ariella dumbfounded. The High Priestess sighed and continued, “Never mind. We’ll discuss this again at a later time. Let’s get over to the Ball Field in Prospect Park. We’re to gather there at 10:00 P.M.”

  “But that’s over an hour from now,” Jennifer said quietly from the back seat.

  “That may be so but we still have a bit of preparation before we begin the ceremony tonight.”

  “Ceremony?” Jennifer asked in a slightly horrified voice. “What ceremony are you talking about, my Lady? We haven’t had any time to prepare or —”

  Lady Ariella started the car and pulled off humming “We Are Family” slightly off-key and ignored her passengers as she smiled to herself and tapped the steering wheel in time to the beat in her head which Sister Sledge would never have been able to sing along with.

  ***

  Tuesday, November 13th, 9:00 P.M.

  Chad pushed the heavy precinct door outward. As he suspected he got nowhere. Any information about Jennifer was confidential he was told over and over again in the last twenty minutes. The front desk on duty cop wouldn’t even tell him if she was on duty or not. But the cop was distracted. There were cops rushing about and EMT technicians wheeling out a man on a gurney. It was clearly not the best time for his low priority request. Either way, he had not advanced his cause.

  Sighing he headed back towards the bar not knowing what to do next other than return to his normal routine. While walking, he thought about what Max said. Chad’s head was not in agreement, but something deep inside of him knew the deli man was right. Chad hadn’t been able to get Jennifer Holden out of his mind since they met. He had no idea what he had done to drive her away, all he knew was he had to figure out how to get in her presence again. Once in front of her, he knew he could get pull out the real answers. Tough cop exterior, or not, he knew that there was a vulnerable side to her that was just under the surface. His phone beeped.

  Chad fumbled it out of his back pocket and, with a whoop of joy, saw that Officer Browbeater had come through. He sent a quick text of thanks to the cop and he continued on his way back to the bar but hesitated before going in. He looked up at the midnight blue sky and wondered if he should follow Max’s advice and go in search of her. For some reason, he felt she needed him. Odd as that feeling was to him — that a stranger needed him — he felt it deep in his bones. With a weary sigh, he turned around and walked to the corner. Realizing he still was carrying the sandwich Max made for him, Chad threw it into the trash receptacle at the corner. He crossed Court Street and headed down Dean Street. He had decided that Jennifer’s apartment was his next destination.

  ***

  Tuesday, November 13th, 9:25 P.M.

  Officer Tabitha Pettijohn clocked out at 21:25 hours. She was showered and ready to head out when Special Agent Freeman called out to her before she slipped through the precinct’s main entrance.

  “Pettijohn just wanted to ask you one more question.”

  Barely restraining a growl, the Fury retreated and allowed the young officer to interact directly with the man from Internal Affairs.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Any idea where the cab was headed?” He stared at her while she and the Fury scrambled for a response. They stalled. “Sir? What cab?”

  With the tone of a patient man speaking to an imbecile he said quietly, “The cab Feinster and Holden were in earlier this evening? The one you chased down? You said you saw the license plate. Wondered if you were near enough to catch the address.” Staring at her intently, Freeman waited.

  The Fury seethed and withdrew further so the woman would answer in her own way. “Uh, no. All I heard was Feinster say ‘Step on it!’ That’s it. I got there too late. I was running to catch up to them.”

  “Okay, thanks and enjoy your evening. Have any plans?”

  She shook her head, “No, just a quiet night for me.”

  Freeman clapped her lightly on the back. “Good work today, Pettijohn. It’s not everyday a rookie has a productive day like this. Take it easy, okay?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” She nodded at him and swiftly made her exit.

  He narrowed his eyes as she moved out of s
ight with a good amount of speed. Following a hunch, he took out his cell and made a call.

  ***

  Outside of the precinct Pettijohn looked around checking to see if anyone was following her. Satisfied that no one was on her tail, she walked briskly to her car a couple of blocks away. She drove off after checking her rearview and side mirrors — still nothing. To be sure, she turned left when she should have turned right and took all kinds of detours before heading towards the Jackie Robinson Parkway. At the last possible second, she veered left and went up Bushwick Avenue with a multitude of car horns blaring at her.

  The unmarked car two car lengths behind Pettijohn wasn’t able to make the same maneuver and was forced to get onto the parkway. Slamming his palm against the wheel the frustrated man picked up his phone and dialed his boss. “Malcolm, where are you?” Freeman asked tersely.

  “On the Jackie Rob.”

  “Any idea where she’s headed?”

  “No…lost her. She made a last minute turn and I couldn’t follow without causing a multi-car pileup.”

  The agent heard his superior cursing into the phone and pulled it away from his ear as he navigated the narrow winding parkway waiting for the first exit to appear.

  “Get over to Pettijohn’s place as soon as you can. We’ll watch her as well. She’s part of all of this, somehow.” Freeman rattled off her home address and hung up.

  Malcolm blew out a breath and changed lanes in preparation for his exit. It was going to be a long night.

  ***

  When Pettijohn was a half a mile away from the Crystal address Abatu came to the fore and directed the new host. It felt secure that they could head towards the Crystal Street address directly. The Fury watched with Tabitha’s eyes as the scenery changed to shabby unkempt buildings and sporadic empty lots. Pettijohn pulled up in front of the white house with the double cement stairs.

  Abatu smiled within Pettijohn’s mind.

  Pettijohn parked right in front of the address. She climbed the left side of the stairs and rang the bell.