by Alexie Aaron
“Stoneridge LTD,” I said.
“Good memory. Let’s see what else you can remember?” he asked.
“What do you want to know?” I asked. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“Tell me, what did Meyer tell you?”
“Nothing about you,” I answered, avoiding the truth.
Sidney smacked me hard. My head hit the back of the chair.
“Gareth informed me that you were in that private office at Tom’s with him alone for quite a long time. What did he tell you?”
“Kids, he talked about adopting children.”
“What else?”
“Said I was just an item on your bucket list,” I answered.
“What did he give you?”
“Nothing?”
Sidney hit me again. The pain of his backhanded slap sent my wits from me. All I could think of was making the pain stop. I dropped my head, trying to protect what was left of my face.
“He had numbers, a code that I need,” Sidney said, lifting my head up by my hair.
“Ask him,” I said. “I have nothing. He gave me nothing.”
“Meyer isn’t talking anymore,” Sidney said, turning the chair around.
Lying on the floor, not four feet from the chair, was the broken body of Meyer. His neck was clearly broken. His soulful eyes were clouded and empty. I started crying. I knew I had to get myself together or I would be dead soon. How could I have misjudged Sidney Stoneridge so much?
“I’m pretty smart,” I said. “Tell me what the code is for, and maybe I can help,” I said as evenly as I could.
Gareth grunted. “She knows nothing. I told you this was a bad idea.”
“Look who’s talking about bad ideas. Bringing Caroline in… She was going to give it all away.”
“No, she wouldn’t have,” Gareth argued. After all, I had the goods on her. I saw her leave that hotel room covered in Karen’s blood. You didn’t have to kill her.”
“Yes, I did. I had to find a way of getting this bitch off our trail. All you had to do was keep people away from Caroline until I got Cin there. Then we could’ve claimed we saw Caroline and Cin fighting over Elijah until Cin knifed her. She’s done it before. Cin likes knives. Don’t you, darlin’?” he said, flipping open a large hunting knife.
I sniffed and refused to comment.
Sidney leaned over and grabbed ahold of my hair and twisted it around his hand until it was being pulled away from my scalp. He took the knife and cut the hair from my head. He walked over and pried open Meyer’s hand, put the hair in it and closed the fingers again. He returned and twisted more hair and started to cut.
The sound of a car’s horn stopped him. He dropped the knife and walked quickly to the far garage door and outside. I heard Vicki’s voice calling out. She was happy, talking a mile a minute about some family function. I used my feet and moved the chair closer to the knife and threw my body to the side and fell over. I landed hard on the pavement. Pain shot through my wrist. I searched with my fingers and smiled as I felt the cold steel of the knife. I moved it into my palm, and after a few failed attempts, I managed to cut through half of the tape. I pulled hard, and my hand was free. I worked frantically, and soon I was free of the chair. I thought about running towards the open garage door, but that would have put Vicki in danger too. I moved into the shadows. I kept the knife with me and prayed I would find a way out.
I heard a tapping of something hitting glass. It sounded like June bugs against a window. I turned around and followed the sound. Behind the large bass amp was a utility door. It was locked. I jammed the knife between the door and the jam and worked upwards until I felt the locking mechanism release. The door opened with almost no sound. I eased myself out of the door and into the darkness.
From my position behind the garage, I could still hear Vicki talking. Gareth was taking a good teasing. From the snippets of conversation, I got the idea that Vicki liked the silent bass player. I continued to move away from the garage. I wasn’t that familiar with the area around Sidney’s homestead, but I remembered that I’d had to cross a canal when I picked him up to take him to the party. If I could get across the canal, the main route wasn’t far from there. I took a chance and started running. I didn’t look behind me, because to do so would slow me down. I ran alongside the verge of the road, afraid that my one shoe would sound against the pavement. I heard the slam of a car door. I had almost made the bridge when an engine fired up. I moved out onto the road and ran full out, and after I crossed the bridge, I threw myself down the embankment and lay flat, crawling behind a bunch of dwarf sago palms.
I didn’t remember losing consciousness, but I must have done so. The last thing I remembered was me holding my breath as the vehicle rolled over the bridge. I got up and headed along the edge of the canal, wary of running into the large snakes and alligators that inhabited the drainage and irrigation canals of south Florida. There were no lights out there, but my eyes got accustomed to the dark quickly. The crescent moon did little to light my way, but it didn’t highlight me either. I kept my shoe on. At least one of my feet would be free of the barbs and burrs of the dense foliage that was taking over the edge of the canal and forcing me into the field. I stopped and looked out into the flatness. To go out there, I would be taking a chance on being seen, but I needed to get more distance between me and Sidney’s place fast.
I ran, jumping over the low plantings of what I assumed was jasmine bushes. The small white flowers on the long vine-like stems filled the night with their scent. I moved as quickly as I could while keeping the canal to my back and listening for anyone picking up my trail. Something whizzed by me. The dirt in front of me exploded. I heard a laugh. I continued to move, this time running in a zigzag pattern. The dirt exploded close to my feet. The bullets always landed low as if they were falling off. I surmised that the weapon they were using must have had a short range to it. I changed direction and began running away from the line I had been running in.
I ran out of the jasmine field into where small cabbage palms were set out every few feet to mature. They were like tiny seven foot islands in the ocean of the darkness. My lungs were burning, but I had to keep going. I didn’t see the wire until I was caught up in it. I rebounded off the tightly stretched line that was holding up clematis vines and fell to the ground. I crawled behind the last cabbage palm I had passed. I opened up the knife and kept it ready and waiting. My throat burned. I was dehydrated from my run and dizzy from the lack of water. I suspected that I had a concussion. I had hit the wall hard after Gareth belted me, and Sidney’s knocking me around hadn’t improved my health much either.
I must have passed out again because I woke up to a strange sound. Blur wop blur wop echoed through the night. I hesitated to get to my feet, worried about being discovered. I couldn’t make any time crawling, so I took the chance. Pain shot through every cell, but I persisted. It took a minute, but I got to my feet. I moved alongside the line of vines, hoping for a break in the wire but found none. I decided that was a fruitless enterprise, so I ran and stopped from palm to palm, using them as cover from whoever was out there. I started to hear road sounds. The blur wop sounds were louder too.
I focused before me. In the near distance, an emergency vehicle with its lights on rolled down the street. I figured I had a half mile of dodging bullets and plants before I could make that road. I had to keep going, running, walking and crawling until I had nothing left. I didn’t really think that I would make it. The pressure in my head and lack of water were already taking a toll on my tired, worn-out body. If I died here, I worried that the turkey buzzards would find my body before anyone else would. Who would figure out who took me, let alone where?
The blur wop sound now brought a lot of light with it. I had made it past the line of palms but found I no longer could walk. I tripped, falling to my knees and then fell over on my side. I rolled to my back, looked up into the light and prayed for forgiveness.
~
The dee
p voice sounded familiar; the cadence with which he was speaking, however, did not. The repetitive meter and the moisture that ran down my forehead had me opening my eyes with much difficulty, and I could only manage a slit. It looked like I was peeking through Venetian blinds. I saw what appeared to be Gabriel Byrne looking down at me. I forced my eyes wider, and Gabriel turned into Father Michael. What kind of heaven was this when you offered Gabe and then switch him with Michael? “What the hell?” I managed hoarsely.
“Cin?” he asked, leaning in. “Did you say something?”
“Michael, where’s Buslowski?” I croaked.
I heard the pounding of feet, and against the edict of the sister in charge of the ICU, I was picked up in Dave Buslowski’s arms and held to his chest.
“Oh my God, Cin, I was so worried,” he said.
“Gareth Goodbody and Sidney killed Meyer and Caroline,” I told him first, and then I said, “I love you.”
He gently laid me down, and the sister fussed around me, taking my vitals. I saw Harry standing at the window looking in. He looked like he had been through hell.
“Mom,” Alex’s voice had me turning my head slowly, taking in his beautiful face. He had several days’ growth of beard. I remembered him being clean shaven that evening. “How long?”
“Three days. Father Michael was giving you last rites.”
“I missed my date,” I said, struggling to sit up, looking for Dave. He was at the foot of the bed, under the restraining hand of another sister. I asked, “Rain check?”
He nodded.
Harry moved sheepishly behind Dave and around Father Michael until he was at the edge of my bed. “Harry?”
Alex made room, and Harry bent over me. “Closer,” I said. I waited until he had his ear to my lips before I said, “Father Michael, really?”
“Sorry,” he said, a small smile forming on his face.
“Mom, Dad is picking Noelle up at the airport. They will be here soon.”
I nodded, my eyes closing. I heard the sister shooing the others out of the room. Only Father Michael stood there looking at me.
“How are you still in here?” I asked.
He touched his collar and said, “Perks.”
~
In the late hours of the night, I felt a lone, cool hand holding mine. I opened my eyes and could have sworn that Meyer stood there looking down at me. He said, “Remember.”
Chapter Eighteen
After a few days, I was allowed visitors. Alex, Harry and Dave were sitting in my room making small talk when I insisted that Harry and Buslowski tell me what happened after Gareth and Sidney had taken me.
“I came home to find Buslowski pounding on the front door,” Harry said. I walked over and asked if I could be of some help.
“I thought you had forgotten our date, and I told Harry this,” Dave said.
“I knew that was impossible, and when I unlocked the door and moved to the keypad to disengage the alarm, I realized it wasn’t on. I knew you wouldn’t neglect that, so I thought you were still home. I walked back into the living room and tripped over something on the floor. It was a lone blue shoe. Buslowski was already searching your bedroom and bath.”
“The place was a wreck,” Buslowski continued the narrative, “but not as if it was searched, more like you were trying to decide what to wear. I walked out and found Harry staring at a blue shoe in his hands. ‘Someone’s taken her,’ he said to me.”
I was thinking of alternative scenarios, but then I saw the makeup smear on the wall and the drops of blood on the ground. I followed the drops out through the garage where they’d pooled into a puddle and then disappeared. I called to Harry, telling him that you were hurt, and it looked like someone had carried you to a vehicle and took you away.”
“That’s when crabby, old Mrs. Cohen came up the drive,” Harry said. ‘Young man, you tell your mother that if her guests are going to drive a van in this neighborhood, they have to be careful. They almost ran over Mr. Snookums and me.’ I asked her about the van, and her description made us certain that it was Sidney’s van. Buslowski got a Broward County patrol out to Sidney’s property pronto, but the place was deserted. The patrolmen walked by the open garage door, and that’s when they saw Meyer.”
“We got there soon after and quickly worked the scene,” Buslowski said. “It initially looked like Meyer must have attacked you, and you, or someone, broke his neck. On closer examination, he looked like he had been tortured first.”
“I found a rolling chair under the workbench with more of your hair on it, along with blood,” Harry said. “The van was gone, and I feared that they killed you and were going to dump your body somewhere.”
“I insisted the property be searched,” Buslowski told me. “A patrolman found more of your hair behind the garage. This gave us hope. I found an odd trail left by someone wearing only one shoe. I knew it had to be you. We followed the trail but lost it at the bridge. On the east side of the bridge, that’s where we found a few spent bullet casings.”
“You should have seen him, Cin,” Harry said. “He stood there staring for only a few seconds before he figured out that that Sidney was hunting you in the wholesale landscaping fields.”
“I knew you were smart enough to seek cover,” Dave said proudly. “I called for a helicopter to search the field. It was too large and dangerous for the few patrolmen to go deep into.”
“That’s what that strange sound was. I think my bell was rung pretty well because my hearing was off. I never heard any shots, but I saw the misses around me, and the sounds I heard that could have been the helicopter were more of a blur whop than the whop whop I would have associated with a copter,” I told them.
“The search copter found you on your back with a very lethal knife in your hand,” Buslowski told me. “You weren’t responsive, but you were breathing. They took you to the nearest hospital.”
“That’s how I ended up here,” I said.
“By the time we got here, you had fallen into a coma. You were severely dehydrated, and your face was swollen. The CAT scan didn’t show any fractures, but there was considerable swelling. That and the bruising of your face were evidence that you had gone through quite a lot of trauma to your head.”
“Sidney kept smacking me around,” I said. “He wanted to know what Meyer had told me. The only private conversation I had with Meyer was odd, but he never said anything that was worth the beating I took. I was lucky I didn’t lose any teeth,” I said, feeling my sore jaw.
“What exactly did he say?” Dave asked me.
“Meyer?”
“No, Sidney.”
“He asked if Meyer had given me anything. Wait! Something about a code. I told him to ask Meyer, and that’s when he turned me around and showed me Meyer on the floor. Whatever this code was, Meyer died with it.”
“What happened next?”
“I think he was preparing some kind of tableau to, perhaps, frame me for Meyer’s death before killing me too. He cut off my hair and put it in one of Meyer’s hands. He was just about ready to repeat the procedure when his cousin Vicki drove up. I know she didn’t see me. I doubt she had any idea what was going on, but while she talked to them, I was able to make my escape.” I told them all I could remember. “Don’t tell Father Michael, but I thought the light from the helicopter was the light.”
“Your secret is safe with us,” Harry assured me.
“How did Father Michael end up here?” I asked my son who had been silently listening to Harry’s and Dave’s story.
“He got ahold of me on my cell when he couldn’t get reach anyone at the house. I told him you were in critical condition, and he drove down. Cin, you looked like you were leaving us, so I okayed the last rites,” Alex admitted. His cell buzzed, and he motioned he was going to take the call outside.
“I’m not Catholic. We’re not religious,” I said, puzzled.
“In Alex’s defense, Father Michael was very insistent,” Harry said.
&n
bsp; “Have you talked to him yet?” Buslowski asked.
“Not alone. The kids, Harry and Luke have always been around. Why?”
“I think you need to explain us,” Dave said. “He keeps looking at me as if he’d like to send me to hell.”
“Imagine that. Don’t worry, as far as I know, he doesn’t deal with demons,” I teased. “But I’ll see what I can do. Has anyone located Sidney or Gareth?”
“No.”
“Have they checked the Crab Shack?”
“Crab Shack?” Buslowski asked.
“It’s Sidney’s cousin Vicki’s place. It’s a floating restaurant on the Intracoastal Waterway.” I gave him the directions.
Buslowski excused himself to make a call. I looked at Harry and smiled.
“What?” he asked.
“I remember the last time you two were in my hospital room.”
“I do too,” he said, looking miserable. “Like then, this is entirely my fault.”
“This? This is Sidney’s doing, and perhaps mine for being reckless, but not yours.”
“No, I should have been there. I was mad at you and left you alone.”
“I was off my nut. I was overly emotional and overreacted. I don’t blame you for running for the hills. I get a bit nuts when things are out of my control.”
“You’re not the only one. Buslowski was a maniac. I have to admit I wasn’t sure of his motives regarding you until the moment he found your blood. He went into super-cop mode as he coordinated the search. But he was also fighting what we all knew was probable, that you were already dead. He said, ‘Harry, I can’t lose her. She’s become my life.’”
“Whoa,” I said, stunned by the revelation.
“When Father Michael arrived with Alex, I think he was hit by the reminder that he had competition. Dave calmly accepted his presence, but I know he wanted to slug him, especially when Michael told him he wasn’t needed anymore. I think when you opened your eyes and asked for Buslowski, it floored Michael more than he’ll ever admit to. Now the shoe was on the other foot, a major ego hit to the handsome priest. They won’t talk to each other, Cin. They’re behaving like children.”