A Dark Horse

by Cooper, Blayne

  Two sets of terrified blue eyes swung up to meet her gaze. “Is there anyone else in the house besides the four of us in this room? It’s very important that you tell me the truth.”

  “Don’t tell that pig anything!” Reggie spat, sitting back on his haunches. “You can’t make them talk!”

  “I’m not making them,” Detective Lejeune said calmly. She beamed a kind smile at the children. “I’m asking them nicely. Are we alone?”

  They both nodded silently, and Adele huffed out a relieved breath. “Okay, listen closely, kids.” Her volume was low, but the children couldn’t mistake the intensity in her voice. “I want you to go wait outside on your front porch. Do not go anyplace else. Especially don’t go near the street. Hold hands as you walk through the house. And stay together. If you need me, yell. I’ll hear you. But no matter what you hear from inside the house, do not come back in. Stay where you are.”

  She gave first Milo, then Annie, a tender, one-armed hug. “More police officers are coming, okay?”

  The children’s fear seemed to multiply at Adele’s words.

  “No, no, no,” said murmured. “The police are coming to help you. I promise.” She ran a reassuring hand softly down Annie’s long hair. It felt like silk against her fingertips. “Do you believe me?” Adele couldn’t let the kids out of her sight if there was even a hint that they might run.

  “She’s lying!” Reggie roared, glaring at Milo and Annie like a dog that was about to bite. “I warned you about the asshole cops. They’ll shoot you if they get the chance.”

  Adele rolled her eyes and let the children see it, then she forced out a light laugh. “That won’t happen. The police help people. And they’ll be wearing uniforms so you’ll know exactly who they are. Your mama sent us to come get you.” She smiled again. “She’s going to be so happy to see you.” Privately, Adele wasn’t so sure. Their mother, a hot mess in her own right, seemed angrier that Reggie had taken the children than the fact that they were gone. She only hoped Milo and Annie didn’t know that. “Okay?”

  It took a few seconds, but both children warily agreed.

  “Good,” Adele murmured. “Go now. Quickly.”

  Milo quickly grabbed his sister’s hand and walked from the room. They trembled when they, once again, had to walk past their father, even after Adele moved to put herself between them and the beefy man.

  When she heard the last of the pounding of their small feet, and the front door open and slam closed, Adele reached around behind her with one hand and retrieved her handcuffs, her gun still trained precisely on Reggie. Standing well out of his range of motion, she dangled the handcuffs in front of his face.

  “Time for your favorite accessory. On your belly, you ugly bastard,” she commanded. She nudged one of his elbows with the toe of her boot when he tried to reposition himself. “No. Keep your hands on your head.”

  He spoke directly into the dirty floor. “Bitch.”

  “You have the right to remain silent.”

  “Fuck you, bitch!”

  Adele sighed and wished that just once someone would listen to the “remain silent” part and take it to heart. She moved behind him and pressed her knee squarely into the center of his back for leverage. As she spoke, she silently holstered her weapon.

  “You said that already, Reggie.” She grabbed one of his hands and quickly pushed it up his back until he yelped. Then she brought the other down to meet it. With a quick click, one shackle was on, but before the next heartbeat, Reggie began to squirm and howl like he was on fire. He spun them in a half circle as though he was a bull Adele was riding at the rodeo.

  “Dammit! What are you doing?” she ground out. “That’s a good way to get your arm broken.” Quickly gaining the upper hand, Adele dug her knee just below his shoulder blades and pressed hard enough to hear the air expel from his lungs. But before she could secure the second cuff she caught the sound of the floor creaking behind her.

  Her head snapped sideways, and she reached for her gun just in time for something to explode across the side of her face, sending glass and sweet iced tea flying everywhere. Adele’s body toppled over Reggie, and she saw stars as she went sprawling across the kitchen floor face-first and into the kitchen table, blasting the kitchen chairs in all directions the way a bowling ball scatters pins. Her gun flew from her hand and skittered out of sight as a wiry, clawing body landed on top of her with stunning force.

  She felt searing pain at her temple and forehead, and a warm gush of blood ran over one eye and down her nose in a steady stream. A quick shake of her head sent blood scattering everywhere. She turned sideways, her arms coming up to block the blows raining down on her.

  “Let him go!” a woman with crazy eyes and wild red curls shrieked. She dropped the remains of the handle from the glass pitcher she’d smashed against Adele’s head and jumped onto the detective. Her flailing legs sent another chair crashing sideways. “Don’t hurt him!”

  For a split second Adele was disoriented, then her heart began to jackhammer. Adrenaline sang through her veins at lightning speed as her fight-or-flight response kicked in with full force. The women began to wrestle fiercely, broken glass cutting into Adele’s shoulders and arms as they fought.

  “Stop it!” Adele snarled, recognition dawning. She knew this woman. “What the hell?” But she could tell by the woman’s savage, reckless movements, and the way she didn’t seem to care if Adele hit her, that she was too high on drugs to listen.

  “Denise?” Reggie cried, sounding as surprised at Adele felt. “How’d you find me?”

  Reggie’s wife, Milo and Annie’s mother, slashed her sharp fingernails across Adele’s cheek, tearing the skin in a jagged line and drawing blood. Adele hissed loudly and landed a solid elbow squarely against the woman’s jaw. The strike was hard enough that it couldn’t be ignored and with a blood-curdling scream, Denise sagged forward and grabbed her face just long enough for Adele to shove her completely away and half under the kitchen table.

  “Denise?” Adele shouted, confused. “What are you doing? I’m helping you! I found your kids.” But there was no way they were going home to this crazy bitch tonight. Or ever if she could help it. Suddenly, the faint sound of sirens coming from somewhere outside registered. Thank God.

  Reggie, who was so shocked that he froze for several seconds as the scene unfolded in front of him, finally lumbered to his feet. He glanced at the open back door, but instead of running outside, decided to try to run past the fighting women toward the front porch. Where his children were waiting.

  “No!” Adele’s hand darted up as he passed, and she grabbed the dangling handcuff. From her knees and using all her body weight, she jerked the cuff sideways with such force that she heard the man’s wrist snap.

  Howling, Reggie dropped to the ground and clutched his hand to his chest. “Fuck!” Spittle flew from his mouth as he wailed.

  Adele had to blink blood out of her eyes before she could see him clearly. She wobbled to her feet, her muddy boots slipping until she managed to use her smaller size to her advantage and maneuver behind him in the tight kitchen. She pulled hard on the dangling handcuff as he began to fight her again. “Stop it!” Another hard jerk and she dislocated his shoulder, his screams ringing in her ears as she shoved him facedown into the floor and secured the second cuff tightly in place.

  Adele could see the flashing lights of a police car reflected in the side window and hear adult voices on the porch. “C’mon!” she yelled, spitting away the blood that had dripped into her mouth. “Inside!” she called out, her eyes scanning desperately for Denise. “Help!”

  Then, out of nowhere, Denise was on her again and fighting like a banshee, her momentum pushing Adele almost on top of Reggie. As they grappled, Adele caught a glimpse of something shiny and metallic in Denise’s hand. Her eyes widened when she thought of her gun. Fear exploded inside her. She wrapped a hand tightly around Denise’s wrist, pinning it down. With the other, she wound her fingers into Deni
se’s hair and yanked hard, successfully wrenching the other woman off her chest.

  Reggie, who was still facedown, helped his wife by kicking wildly at Adele with both legs. After a few attempts, one of his big sneakers caught Adele in the ribs just as she freed herself from Denise.

  “Christ!” Adele cried out again as she felt something snap inside. A wave of nausea rushed over her and she instinctively tucked her elbow against her body to protect her ribs from more damage.

  “You’re sleeping with him, too!” Denise wailed, dilated eyes blazing.

  Adele finally saw what was in Denise’s hand…a second too late.

  Denise plunged a long, slender boning knife into the flesh high on Adele’s leg, below her hipbone, burying the blade to the hilt before savagely twisting it and yanking it out with such force that she stumbled backward, screaming, blood dripping from the blade and down Denise’s arms. The woman looked equal parts horrified and thrilled at what she’d just done.

  “Fuck!” The pain that tore through Adele was so intense that dots danced before her eyes and the room blurred. An inhuman cry ripped itself from her chest and her hands flew to her leg. Hot blood pulsed between her fingers in time with her pounding heart. “Argh!” Her mind screamed along with her mouth. Shit. Shit! This is bad. Blood spurted out of her and she couldn’t stop it.

  Then, even though she couldn’t tell exactly how much time had passed, everything seemed to happen all at once.

  Two uniformed police officers burst into the room.

  Adele heard gunshots and shouts. Denise went silent, and Reggie’s screams sounded different, more desperate and higher pitched. His legs, which had been tangled up with Adele, slid away. Was that my gun that went off?

  Her vision grew fuzzier. She shook her head again to clear away the blood from her eyes, but her vision wouldn’t focus. Her eyelids began to droop, and try as she might, she couldn’t help but let them slip closed. Just for a minute. S’okay. I’m awake. I’m…awake. Her limbs felt thick and weighted down like they were dissolving into the floor. For the first time Adele noticed that the room smelled like cigarettes, mud, and gunpowder mixed with something cloying and metallic.

  The linoleum around Adele grew slick as the pool of brick-red blood continued to grow, circling her. She couldn’t keep pressure on her leg any more and her hands limply fell away. One hand landed on a tiny sliver of glass and she felt it prick her skin almost gently and accompanied by a tiny sting, which registered as odd in the face of the nearly overwhelming pain in her leg, ribs, and face.

  She thought she heard someone call her name. But then the voice seemed to be a whisper.

  Hands touched her, but she couldn’t stop them. She hoped they weren’t Denise’s or Reggie’s.

  An unwilling voyager, her mind began to drift. Handcuffs. That was her mistake. Not getting those damn handcuffs on right the first time when she cuffed…him.

  The buzzing from the refrigerator grew louder and overtook the voices in the room. And the floor felt cool against her back, much cooler than it had seemed before. The pain was still there, but it was distant and disjointed as though she was dreaming. She felt wet everywhere. Mud. Tea. Like a scene from a horror movie, blood was everywhere.

  She thought of the kids on the porch. She should have come inside sooner. Before he’d hurt them. The blood spatter on the little boy’s white T-shirt looked like a butterfly. She liked butterflies. The orange ones especially made her think of picnics in summertime. And she thought of Logan who’d fallen and knocked out a tooth and how she’d promised him the tooth fairy would visit in the morning. She hoped she had quarters in her purse. The gas station would have quarters.

  Was she being lifted or was she floating?

  She prayed the kids were okay. She should have come inside the house sooner.

  Even though she didn’t feel like she was on the floor anymore, her body grew heavier and her movements more lethargic, as though her mind was disconnected from her limbs. Then Adele’s gasping breaths and furious heartbeat simply dissolved into nothing.

  Part Three

  Chapter Seven

  Two years and nine months later…

  It had been less than ten days since Thanksgiving and a thick blanket of snow already covered the yard in front of Natalie’s townhouse. She’d survived another of her least favorite holidays. The food was divine, she had to give her mother her due, but an entire day at her parents’ house among a sea of extended relatives who only found time for one another once a year, and over someone else’s turkey, was something she could live without.

  Christmas, she convinced herself, would be a bit better.

  It was Saturday morning, and she sat on one corner of her sofa, alone, wearing warm flannel pajamas and a weary smile. Her hair was swept up in a haphazard ponytail. A hot cup of coffee was cradled in both hands, its aroma surrounding her. She gazed out the window, eyes unfocused as large snowflakes gently drifted to the ground. Natalie had gotten lucky and been assigned one of the earliest days possible to give her final exams, and now three tall piles of completed tests sat on her coffee table awaiting her judgment.

  She began to mentally map out her day and her smile slowly slid away.

  Natalie had no plans for this first Saturday of the school winter holiday and it irked her. Only last week she’d achieved one of the major milestones of her career, one she’d worked tirelessly toward. She’d not only been promoted to associate professor, but granted tenure. In the face of never-ending university budget cuts and a depressingly low number of tenure-track positions within her department, the achievement was substantial and while she was thrilled, she also felt a little aimless.

  Now what? Even with her nose to the grindstone, something she excelled at, full professorship was at least five years away. While the salary was better, having already achieved tenure, the role carried more prestige than anything else. Her next promotion would require a sharper focus on research and publishing, something Natalie heartily enjoyed, but it also meant she still had years more in front of the classroom, something she tolerated but had come to accept she didn’t really love.

  With a grimace, she recalled her own education and the many professors she’d had who clearly didn’t want anything to do with the students. Natalie was far from that, and would never allow her students to suffer for her work preferences, but she wasn’t exactly happy either.

  She’d made a conscious decision to place her career above her personal life years ago, and so here she sat, having reached a major life goal, and at a crossroads in her career, but with no one to share it.

  The tradeoff left her cold and contemplative.

  Most of her friends had families of their own and would be enjoying the day with them—holiday shopping, or sledding, or perhaps hanging Christmas decorations. Of course, she could do those things herself. Well, if she actually had Christmas decorations or did any shopping that wasn’t handled completely online, or owned a sled. It was really too bad that she hated cats, she decided. For the first time in her life she saw the appeal of their mindless, yet judgmental company.

  She slipped on her reading glasses, a new and unwelcomed addition to her life that seemed to mark the passing of time even more than the calendar, and picked up the first exam off the pile. It was for a freshman-level course that was required for almost all the liberal arts degrees. Meaning: almost nobody who was in the class had selected it voluntarily and out of interest.

  She sighed and gnawed on the cap of her red pen. Half the answers were blank and the others were filled in with handwriting so bad it was utterly illegible. She did see a few smiley faces and LOLs among the words, which was odd and slightly amusing considering the questions covered the impact of disease on the Continental Army at Valley Forge in the winter of 1777–1778.

  Natalie took off her glasses and tossed them on the table, deciding to wait to grade the exams until she could give them the attention they deserved. Reluctantly, she forced herself to fight the nearly overw
helming urge to just give everyone an A. Not a single student would complain, and she could call it a day. Her cell phone rang. Still in teacher mode, she absently answered as though she was in her office and not at home.

  “Professor Abbott.” Natalie’s voice was gravelly from disuse.

  “Professor? Wow. I forgot about that, Nat.”

  Natalie spilled her coffee down the front of her and almost dropped her phone. Only her brother called her Nat. “Ouch! Dammit! M-Misty? Is that you?”

  A sigh. “Yeah. Hi, Nat. I mean Natalie.”

  “Holy…I mean, holy shit!” Natalie shot to her feet and began to pace, pulling the hot, coffee-soaked flannel away from her stomach. “Where have you been? Christ, I figured something awful had happened to you. Are you okay?”

  “Something awful did happen. A lot of somethings. I mean, I was really messed up for a very long time.”

  Tears leapt into Natalie’s eyes. She was never close to Misty, but Josh was and that, if nothing else, was enough to engender genuine concern. The sting of the loss of her brother welled in her chest. “Are-are you still messed up? Are you okay?”

  “I’m…a lot better now. It’s taken a long time, but things are good. Or at least they’re getting to be good.”

  Natalie nodded to herself, not missing the regret that laced Misty’s words. Josh’s autopsy toxicology results had been appalling. If Misty had gotten only half as deep into drugs as Josh had, her life would have been more nightmare than mess.

  “Where’ve you been?” Absently, she stripped off her pajama shirt and wadded it in her hand as she used it to sop the coffee from her skin.

  “New Orleans mostly. For like what, five years? I waitress in a bar on Magazine Street now, and it pays the bills.”

  Misty seemed to be forcing herself to talk, and Natalie began to get nervous. She’s going to bolt.