Lost in America

by A. S. French

  Astrid answered for him. ‘Caitlin discovered something about the so-called accident at the brewery, and your father had your brother kill her for it. Isn’t that true, Jimmy?’

  His smile twisted the scars on his cheeks, so it looked as if someone had spilt Alphabetti Spaghetti on his face.

  ‘That’s spot on, English.’ He shook with laughter. ‘And then the stupid bitch came to Pop and told him to make things right, or she’d go to the police and the media.’ The gun trembled in his fingers. ‘Imagine being that dumb.’

  ‘What did she discover, Jimmy?’

  He steadied his hand. ‘There was no accident in the brewery. One of our incompetent brewers poisoned a batch of beer. We only found out when some of the staff drank what they shouldn’t and died three days later.’

  Astrid stopped herself from making a joke about the terrible pints she’d had at the Ranch House. ‘This is what Caitlin learnt, and you killed her for it.’

  He smirked like the Joker. ‘It was more than that. Those two idiots stole some batches before they knew what was wrong with it and sold it in town.’

  She imagined the problems that must have caused.

  ‘How many others died?’

  He narrowed his eyes. ‘At least four that we know of. It’s a good job Pop controls the Coroner and the senior management at the hospital.’

  ‘So you covered it up.’

  ‘We did. Until that nosey bitch found out.’

  The low thump which had been vibrating inside Astrid’s head for the last five minutes increased in volume.

  ‘And you killed her for it. But you could have left her kids alone.’

  He shifted forward in his seat. ‘I was going to, but then you turned up at the house, and I remembered you from the bar.’

  ‘You were in the house when I was?’

  ‘I was upstairs. The Jones boys were waiting out back in the car for my instructions.’

  Her heart thumped loud enough to drown out his voice. Nearly.

  ‘You murdered her children just to get at me?’

  ‘Well, she deserved it for snooping into places she shouldn’t, but you had it coming for being such a whiney bitch.’

  She dug her nails so far into the sofa, she imagined she might fall through the bottom. ‘What?’

  ‘I heard you talking to her as she patched you up. Moaning about your family and your sister, saying how much you hated them. And then going on and on about your niece, telling Cruz how much you loved the kid, and you wished she was yours. It sickened me, hearing that.’ He put his foot on the Guy Fawkes mask and crushed it. ‘And do you know what the ironic thing was?’

  Her fingers ached. ‘What?’

  ‘Those two kids were sleeping in the other room near where I was hiding. And I thought I’d be kind to them.’

  Rosie found her voice. ‘By killing them?’

  ‘Of course. Cruz was dead already, so it would’ve been cruel to leave those children as orphans.’ He gazed straight through Astrid. ‘You never get over losing your mother.’ He glanced at his sister. ‘And I knew this day would come soon enough, that I’d be across from you, telling you how you were to blame for their deaths.’ He ran a finger over the scars she’d given him. ‘But I didn’t know then what you’d do to me, did I?’

  ‘She should’ve killed you.’ Rosie spat the words at her brother.

  ‘It’s too late now, Little Sister. I’ll get the boys to cut up her body when I’ve finished, they’ll enjoy that, and then I’ll take you to Pop, and he can discipline you for betraying us.’

  Astrid wondered why Caitlin hadn’t used the phone she’d taken from her to call someone. But she couldn’t since the battery had died in the bar. Astrid had wanted to text Courtney, but her mobile was flat.

  But she still could have told me something in the car or the house.

  Astrid searched her mind for the memories of that night.

  Perhaps she said something, but I was too far out of it to realise. The drink and the beating left me dizzy. But I was better when she tended to my injuries in the kitchen.

  Unless she somehow knew Sawyer was there. Astrid didn’t go upstairs, but maybe Caitlin did to check on the kids and found him. That would terrify her. No wonder she got rid of Astrid so quickly once she’d patched her up.

  Astrid scrutinised Jimmy Sawyer and understood how Caitlin would have been terrified by him and what he might do to her children. As he leant forward with the gun pointed at her, she calculated how much leeway she had in dodging the bullets. Before she had an answer, he fired.

  Astrid thought she’d been transported into the middle of church bells, the infernal ringing affecting her so much, she felt she hadn’t been shot. Yet he’d aimed point-blank at her. She clutched at her chest and found no wounds. She only realised Rosie was on the floor when her ears and eyes returned to normal.

  Sawyer loomed over her with the pistol at his side, his expression as pale as a snowstorm.

  ‘Look what you made me do, you English bitch.’

  ‘You’ve shot your sister, Jimmy.’

  His hand trembled as he raised the gun towards her. ‘She’s had it coming for a long time, and now it’s your turn.’

  Astrid didn’t hesitate, pushing up and forcing her head into his gut. She tumbled over Rosie as she and Sawyer crashed into the back wall. A mirror shattered around them as she wrestled to get the weapon from his hand, broken glass flying past her and into his eye. He screamed as he dropped the pistol and reached for his face. It was enough for her to pull from him and go for the gun, until she stepped in the wrong place and fell over his sister.

  She tumbled on to the couch, her hands trawling through the photos on the carpet. Jimmy howled, bumping into the wall as blood poured from his eye. But it didn’t seem to impede him. As Astrid tried to jump up, he was on her and pushing into her spine. He got one hand on to her neck and forced her face deep into the sofa. She struggled to breathe as dust rushed down her throat, fighting for air while trying to push against him. His breath burnt into her flesh as he drove his face into her head.

  ‘I’m going to visit England soon.’ His voice was heavy enough to sink a leaky boat. ‘I’ll tell your sister how you died. I think she’ll be happy, don’t you?’

  He relaxed his grip, so she turned to look at him. The blood trickled out of his eye and dripped on to her cheek. The scars she’d given Sawyer throbbed in his flesh as the fury oozed out of him.

  ‘Hurting women and children is your level, isn’t it, Jimmy?’

  His psychotic grin reminded her of a clown from a horror movie.

  ‘What can I say, English? I know what I’m good at.’ His knee dug into her. ‘And the best thing is, you don’t even realise why you’re about to die.’

  Heat soared through every sinew and bone in her, turning her insides into a volcano.

  ‘So why don’t you tell me, Jimmy? You can gloat all you want now.’

  His weight pressing on her, plus the fingers around her neck, made it impossible to move. She tried to twist her legs and arms, but it was like fighting against a brick wall. He leant so close to her, she smelt the beer on his breath.

  ‘This is so much bigger than a few brewery deaths, but you’ll never know the truth.’

  His lips were on hers. Perhaps he was going to kiss her, but she gave him one of her own. Astrid bit through the bottom of his mouth, her teeth cutting into his gums until she was clamped so hard to his face, it would be impossible for him to get loose without moving his body off hers.

  Sawyer moved his knee enough for her to thrust her legs up with sufficient leverage to send him backwards and off her and the sofa.

  He crashed into the Polaroids on the floor as she rolled over Rosie and grabbed the gun. Astrid leapt up before swinging her arm and catching him in the head with the pistol. The metal cracked into his skull and he collapsed. She stood there, her entire body shaking apart from the hand holding the pistol.

  I could shoot him now and get thi
s over and done with.

  But it wouldn’t be. She ignored the thought and went to Rosie on the floor, bending her knees and placing her hand on Rosie’s back. Relief ran through her when she realised Rosie still lived. She placed the weapon to the side, got her arms underneath Rosie and turned her over, shocked but pleased to see no blood.

  But he fired the gun. I heard it.

  It didn’t matter now. She had to wake her while her brother was unconscious. She put her hands on Rosie’s shoulders and shook as hard as she could.

  ‘Can you hear me, Rosie?’

  It took a couple of shakes before she spluttered into life.

  ‘What…, what happened, Astrid?’

  She lifted Rosie forward and pulled her into her. That’s when she solved the mystery.

  ‘Your hobby saved you.’

  They separated and Rosie reached into her jacket and removed the broken Polaroid camera: two bullets filled its innards.

  ‘My brother owes me a new one.’ She glanced over Astrid’s shoulders at him. ‘Is he still alive?’

  Astrid stood. ‘For now.’ She held out her hand and pulled her up. ‘We need to get you from here; it’s not safe.’

  Rosie agreed. ‘Of course, but where?’

  It didn’t take Astrid long to decide on somewhere they could lie low. She reached into her pocket and removed the spare set of keys Jim had given her for his apartment.

  ‘These are for Detective Moore’s place; do you know where it is?’ Rosie nodded. ‘Good. The police should have finished there by now. You head there and wait for me. Then we’ll decide what to do next.’

  Rosie took the keys. ‘What will you do?’

  Something I should have done in Sugar Hill.

  ‘I’m going to make sure your brother hurts no one ever again.’

  21 Democracy

  It was hungry work, dealing with Jimmy Sawyer. Astrid didn’t know if there would be anything to eat at Moore’s place, so she stopped at a burger joint on the way and got takeaway for her and Rosie. She’d eaten half of the fries by the time she pulled up outside the apartment.

  She expected zero police presence, and that’s what she found. She strode up and knocked on the door. After a minute with no answer, she tried the handle and found it unlocked. She pushed it open and peered inside.

  There was no sign of Rosie.

  Astrid went in and a deep sadness swept through her as she closed the door; stepping into a dead man’s life was never a good thing. The apartment looked the same as it had when she’d left not so long ago. The used beer bottles still stood on top of the sink.

  ‘Rosie, are you here?’

  She placed the food on the table and checked the rooms, finding the apartment empty. There was also no sign of the key she’d given Sawyer.

  Did Rosie even make it here? Perhaps the police left the door unlocked when they finished.

  Astrid slumped into the sofa where she’d slept, and been attacked, not so long ago. She bit into a burger and switched on the TV. She flicked through the channels, looking for news on events at the Campbell house, but finding nothing. Apart from the latest update on the annual eating competition, it was wall-to-wall talking heads about the President visiting their little town, and how privileged they were he was stopping in Bakerstown first on his impromptu trip across America.

  She moved past the local news channels and settled on CNN. A handsome man with short grey hair and dark glasses was speaking to his guests about the President’s tour and its relation to his decision to bring American troops home. The experts examined any links to the recent cyber-attacks, but nobody appeared to have any answers apart from blaming the usual suspects. She found it curious all of them assumed the attacks came from outside the country, and nobody considered it might have been internal.

  She listened to their conversation as she ate, wondering where Rosie was and how she’d get Eleanor away from Benedict Sawyer.

  Why not wait the three days like he warned me to?

  The question went in and out of her head like the tide as she finished the burger and stared at the screen. Something the people on the TV kept saying nagged at her, but she couldn’t quite work out what it was because of all the other noises consuming her mind. And then a familiar sound brought her into the present.

  She stood and went into the kitchen, a vision of Jim Moore cooking her food still lingering there. Then the noise came again, and she followed it to a drawer near the sink. When she opened it, she got the shock of her life. She pressed on the screen and saw the message from her sister. Relief surged through her when she read it.

  It’s all okay. The police are handling everything.

  Before she could think about how the phone Caitlin Cruz had stolen from her had ended up in Jim Moore’s kitchen, she heard footsteps behind her.

  ‘I got pizzas, but it looks like you’ve already eaten.’

  Astrid slipped the mobile into her pocket. ‘I thought you’d be here when I arrived, Rosie.’

  Rosie dumped the pizza boxes onto the table and threw her arms around Astrid. ‘Thank God you’re okay.’ She removed her grip from Astrid’s hips. ‘What happened to my brother?’

  Astrid moved away from her. ‘You don’t need to worry about him.’

  If Rosie heard the chill in her voice, it didn’t appear to bother her.

  ‘I know, but...’

  ‘But what?’

  Rosie ran a finger through a stray hair and pulled on it. ‘I can’t go back home, not after what I’ve done.’ Her gaze cut right through Astrid. ‘So I thought I’d leave town with you.’

  Astrid didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So she did neither. She twisted her hip to the side, catching the phone against her leg and understanding how it got from Caitlin Cruz and into Detective Jim Moore’s kitchen drawer. In the other room, she heard the TV talking heads speaking about the presidential tour, and some rusted cogs in her head started moving again.

  ‘You told me you knew nothing about your father’s businesses, but I don’t believe you, Rosie. I need you to tell me the truth now.’

  Sawyer took a step back, and Astrid watched her chest rise and fall.

  ‘Of course.’

  Astrid went to the window to make sure no one had followed Rosie.

  ‘Your father wants to extend his empire beyond this small town, doesn’t he? He’s planned this for a long time.’

  Rosie’s cold expression sent a chill through the room.

  ‘It’s not just him. There’s a group who’ve been planning something big for ages. Until you came along and worried them.’

  Astrid remembered the barman at the back of the Ranch House throwing barrels of beer down the drain and claiming it was out of date.

  ‘This has nothing to do with poisoned alcohol, does it?’

  Rosie’s eyes widened as if she was a child caught being naughty.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Was there an accident at the brewery?’

  ‘Yes, as far as I can tell. It was negligence by the management, so they covered that up.’

  ‘But that wasn’t why Jimmy killed Caitlin, was it?’

  ‘No. It’s something to do with the President, but I’m not sure what.’

  Astrid stitched together the bits she’d heard on the TV and finding her phone in the kitchen.

  ‘So Caitlin Cruz discovered this secret, and somehow your father found out what she knew. Then your brother threatened to kill her children if she didn’t do what they said. That’s what he was telling her in the Ranch House the night I was there. She would have agreed at first, what mother wouldn’t, but when she realised the consequences of what they were planning, she refused. Then she bumped into me and whispered in my ear.’

  That missing memory had returned to her when she was watching the TV just before she found her phone and Rosie arrived.

  ‘What did she say to you?’ Sawyer asked.

  The sight and sound of that night were vivid in her head, as if she was back there again
before all the mayhem started and the bodies began piling up.

  ‘“I won’t be the Oswald,” that’s what she said. I couldn’t remember those last words because they didn’t make any sense to my brain.’

  Confusion gripped Rosie’s face. ‘They make little sense to me, either. What’s an Oswald?’

  Astrid’s hunger returned in a rush. She moved to the table, opened a pizza box, and found chunks of pineapple all over the top. She grimaced, pushed it to the side and hoped for better on the next one. The smell of barbecue chicken made her smile as she warmed her fingers on a slice. Bits of it clung to her lips as she took a bite and answered Rosie’s question.

  ‘Your father and his cronies are going to kill the President.’

  ‘Fuck!’ Rosie grabbed at her throat, and for a second, Astrid thought she’d throw up. ‘Is there any booze here?’

  Astrid nodded towards the living room. ‘Jim had a bunch of bottles in there. Find what you like and pour me a large bourbon, and I’ll bring the pizzas through.’

  They were gathering around the coffee table to eat and drink when Rosie asked another question.

  ‘Why would my father and some fundamentalist right-wingers want to get rid of a conservative President, especially when he’s about to pull US troops from the Middle East?’

  The bourbon warmed Astrid’s throat. ‘I was trained in the Agency to analyse situations like this, but none of it makes sense. How and why would your father assassinate the President?’

  Rosie wiped pineapple from her chin. ‘My father is a law unto himself. I only learn about his secrets if I’m lucky enough to overhear him on the phone. He hates computers and doesn’t use the internet or email. The only thing I know is he always plans his projects three or four steps ahead.’

  ‘Like ensuring Robbie Campbell was in the Secret Service and knew the exact itinerary for the presidential tour a year in advance.’

  ‘But how did he know he’d come here first?’

  ‘I’m sure if we checked through your father’s financial affairs, we’d find a substantial contribution to that first presidential campaign. This is just the Commander-in-Chief paying off his debt.’