Fatal Attractions

by Jeanne Foguth

  Tempest shivered. "This reminds me of when Uncle Mitch helped us." Ariel nodded. "I still have nightmares about the way those dogs chased us."

  "Lucky for us they raise sled dogs around here, not blood hounds."

  Tears welled in Tempest's eyes. "I'm going to miss the Greeks so much and poor Mozart! You've had him since he was practically an egg!"

  Heat burned her tortured eyes and the scenes blurred but she forced herself to put one foot forward, then another. "At least there aren't any bloodhounds." Step by painful step she inched away from the road.

  "Where are we gonna go?"

  She swallowed the suffocating lump in her throat. "For now, we try to circle the glacier and get to a road.” Tempest groaned. "Then we somehow get a ride to Texas and go back to our original plan." Ariel pointed a shaky finger toward a gap in the ice mass. "We'll see if we can work around to the other side of it there."

  "Letting him kill us would be easier."

  True. Living with the guilt of suspecting she had caused Uncle Mitch’s death and now, knowing for certain she was responsible for Stone's death's seemed worse than the beating she’d taken. When they came upon a downed tree, she sat down. Through the underbrush, she could still see the raw wounds in the bank where Stone’s truck had been. They were still too close. Way too close.

  Painfully, she opened her backpack and got out two power bars. They chewed in silence, then Ariel squared her acing shoulders. "Nostros vivirmos, Senorita Lopez." With that, she took her first step toward the low part of the glacier. Over the next seventeen days, ‘we will live’ became her mantra and her dirge.

  ~0~

  Tempest's face was smeared with purple juice when she returned to the riverbank. She held out a stained hand, piled high with the fat fruit that they’d practically existed on since they’d found the hovel of a shack and taken refuge inside. "Here."

  Ariel's stomach flinched at the sight of the blueberries. She shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

  "But you gotta eat!" Her hand shook. "Sherry, what am I gonna do if you get sick? I need you."

  Stomach revolting, Ariel took a berry and swallowed it whole. Tempest gave her a lopsided smile. Thankfully, the berry stayed down and the turmoil in her stomach subsided a bit. She took another.

  Tempest sat down next to her and stared at the glacial melt that formed an icy river. "We've gotta get somewhere to get real food."

  Ariel nodded. They'd eaten their last power bar three days before and had been on starvation rations for two weeks before that. Her money belt was cinched tighter than she'd thought her waist could get and if they didn't eat soon, Peter wouldn't have the satisfaction of killing them. "Any ideas?"

  Tempest gave her a quizzical look. "Maybe."

  "Well, go on. Anything has to be better than the choices I've made, which only seem to be benefiting the mosquitoes."

  "I found a wrecked plane and I think we could make the wings into a raft. Float down the river and we'd have to end up somewhere that's better than this."

  "VFR - I follow wrecks," Ariel whispered. Tempest blinked hard. Ariel cleared her throat and got up. "Show me the plane."

  "You look better greenish yellow than you did purple."

  She stared at Tempest, who looked like something too filthy for a vulture to claim and wondered how bad she must have looked.

  Two days later, their makeshift raft floated under the pipeline and for the first time since Stone died, she realized they might survive the ordeal, which had begun as the simple pursuit of justice.

  Tempest cocked her head to one side. "Do you hear that?" She pointed downstream. "It sounds like a big truck motor. She shaded her eyes, then excitedly pointed. "It is! I see a semi!"

  They dug the struts into the water, using them as clumsy paddles to beach the rusty wing into the muddy bank.

  A half hour later, they peered through the undergrowth at the Tonsina Lodge. Tempest chewed her lower lip as she studied the half full parking lot. "I don't see a black Bronco."

  "I doubt if he'd still be driving it after using it as a battering ram." More likely that Peter had made it into a mobile bomb and used it to blow up the Dolly O. Tears choked her.

  "So what's our story going to be?" Tempest asked.

  Good question. Spiked black hair with blond roots showed through the mud. If their descriptions had gone out, it would certainly have been mentioned. The brown contacts were long gone; that could be good or bad. Ariel scratched at a mosquito bite. "How about if I go in and register. Claim I had a falling out with my old man and we literally had a mud fight. That I need a room for the night. You sneak in so we won't be seen together."

  Tempest stared at her, then slowly nodded. "But I got dibs on the first shower." Ariel nodded in agreement.

  Later, as she wiped steam from the mirror, she stared into eyes that reminded her of one of Peter's stuffed animals. Hurriedly, she looked away from her reflection. She tore off the filthy clothes she'd spent nearly three weeks in. As she wadded up her shirt to throw it away, she saw the rust-brown stains across her heart. Blood. She hadn't been cut there. It had to be Stone's. Her eyes closed as she remembered hugging him that one last and, oh so final, time.

  It felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest. Why did her last memory of those she loved seem to end in death? Worse, she knew her lack of caution had been what cost him his life. Quickly, she wadded up all her clothes, stuffed them into the trashcan and got into the shower. Though the puny spray managed to wash away the grime, nothing could sluice off the guilt.

  She dressed in the clothes she'd found in the dumpster, then went out to purchase the basic things they would need and more clothes for Tempest.

  Chapter 34

  "Get with it Lopez," the cook hissed, as he thrust a steaming order of shit-on-a-shingle at her. "Your stations are backing up.” Ariel flinched and grabbed the gravy-covered toast. “Don't just stand around looking dazed, serve your damned customers," he hissed.

  She pasted on a smile to hide her nausea and served the vile looking stuff with a flourish. Then, she grabbed the coffeepot and began refilling cups. After the customers seated at the counter were served, she moved to the tables, which seemed to attract a more intellectual caliber of patron, at least their snippets of conversation were of a higher caliber, though their tips tended toward stingy and most of the men paid more attention to their newspapers than trying to flirt with her.

  At least the morning breakfast rush wasn't as bad as lunch, when the blue-collar types dominated the café and seemed to try to outdo each other embarrassing her. She wished she knew if all the unwanted attention was due to the simple fact that she was female or if they figured they could cop feels and pinch because of her Mexican disguise.

  One more month of preparation and language emersion and they'd be ready to cross the border. One more month of upset stomachs and nightmares and she'd have a full-fledged ulcer.

  She bent over the table occupied by three well-dresses middle-aged women. The trio looked like they were trying to look like triplets, with their battered briefcases, subdued professional suits and spinsterish buns. The chubbiest one smiled a thank you at her as she added three packets of sugar to her coffee, then she turned back to the woman across the table from her. "Are you going to Jennie and Mick's this weekend?"

  The woman indicated that she didn't want any more coffee. "Are they still planning the party?" The plump one nodded. "Oh! Well, I guess I am." Ariel poured coffee into the third woman's cup. "I'm surprised," she said. "After everything she went through with her poor son, I thought they'd cancel."

  The overweight one shook her head.

  "Poor, poor Jen."

  Ariel smiled at them. "Can I get you ladies anything else?"

  "Just the bill," the second one said.

  "Poor Jen?" The third scoffed. "More like poor Stonehenge. He was the one that got shot!"

  Ariel dropped the pot. Coffee and glass exploded across the floor in a searing arch.

 
"Oh!" the plump one yelped.

  "I-I-I'm so s-s-sorry." Ariel hunkered down and began picking up shards of glass with trembling fingers.

  "Lopez!" A mop slatted into the mess. She grabbed it, grateful for something to hold onto. "Sorry, ladies,” her boss said. “Good help is hard to find. Breakfast is on the house and bring me your dry-cleaning bills."

  As she struggled to her feet, she saw coffee splattered across her white apron. It looked just like Stone's blood. The tears that she'd managed to hold off for weeks broke free.

  "There, there, dear." A motherly hand patted her arm. "It was only coffee."

  "Dammit, Lopez, clean up your mess." The cook's face looked bloated and red through her tears. Ariel thrust the mop at him, ripped off her apron and threw it into the mess, then sprinted out the door. "Damn you, you freaking 'can, get back here!" She ran the entire seven blocks to the seedy motel that asked no questions and turned a blind eye to the activities and legal status of its patrons. Her hand shook as she inserted the key in the lock. When she finally got it right, the chain lock stopped her. "Sabrina, let me in."

  "Sherry, what's wrong?"

  Ariel threw herself across her bed and bawled. After her pillow was saturated and she felt like a hollow shell, she realized Tempest was sitting next to her, patiently stroking her back.

  "What's so terrible?"

  Every bit of common sense told her that since Tempest was finally getting over her nightmares, she shouldn't burden her with her own. But she needed to talk to someone and her sister was the only person available. She swallowed. "I got fired today."

  Tempest's expression was incredulous. "We watch Peter murder Mama and you don't even blink, but you cry your guts out over being fired from that crappy job?" She folded her arms across her stomach and shook her head. “Tell me what really happened.”

  Ariel rolled onto her side and took Tempest's hand. "I- This- They-" Words failed her. Tempest stared at her as if she'd sprouted a second head. Ariel closed her eyes against the ridicule and the shabby motel room with its cheap vibrating bed. "Did you know that Stone was raised near here?"

  Tempest’s eyes widened. "He was?"

  "Today, in the café, I overhead some women talking about his parent's anniversary."

  "How do you know it was his parents?"

  Ariel looked at Tempest. "How many women name their sons Stonehenge?"

  Tempest frowned. "It could be common around here."

  Ariel shook her head. "It's his parents. I know it. He asked me to go to their anniversary party with him."

  Her sister silently studied her. "And what'd you tell him?" Ariel bit her lip and raised her brow. "You said yes! Oh, Sherry, that means you really loved him! Oh, I'm so sorry, so very sorry. I should have realized how upset you were. The way you've been losing weight and looking so sick. This is so much worse than when Uncle Mitch died." Tempest's words tumbled out in a torrent. "I mean, I loved him and all, but he was a cop, and he was trained for dealing with someone like Father. Poor Uncle Stone never had a chance." She burst into tears. "It's all my fault. Everything is always my fault."

  "No." Ariel hugged her.

  Tempest sobbed against her shoulder. "But it is. If I'd listened to you, I wouldn't have gotten wet and if I hadn't been so upset, we wouldn't have stopped for a snack and seen Mama get killed and Father wouldn't need to kill us, so Stone and Uncle Mitch would still be alive and-"

  "I would have never met Stone O'Banyon…” A lump of tears made it impossible to finish the statement. Tempest bawled harder. Ariel clasped her sister tighter. After several attempts, she managed to say, "It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." She wished she could believe the platitude. Wished the loss didn't hurt so badly. Wished she'd trusted her instinct. "I'm as much at fault as you are. More-so, because I saw the danger and didn’t react. Didn’t want to, because I wanted the hope I saw with Stone.” More tears washed down her cheeks. “Neither of us is the real guilty one. It’s Peter. If he wasn't so vindictive, most of the terrible things in our life would never have happened.” She gave a decisive nod. “He's the one to blame."

  Her sister stared at her. "Who will he kill next?"

  Ariel didn't know what to say. "Maybe he won't find us this time." Tempest snorted. Ariel sighed.

  "I think he's killed Grandma."

  "Why do you say that?"

  Tempest wouldn't look her in the eye. "I tried to phone her. Just for a minute to find out if she'd got Mozart."

  "Oh, no,” Ariel wailed. “You promised."

  "I know," Tempest yowled, "but I had to know."

  "And?"

  "The secretary said she was gone."

  Ariel blinked rapidly. "That doesn't mean she's dead." Tempest hopelessly shook her head. "Well, it doesn't!"

  "Must you always try to be so optimistic? Nothing is ever going to turn out right for us."

  "Don't say that."

  "Can't take the truth, can you?" Tempest hopped off the bed and pushed her brown fingers through her wavy black hair. "Face it, Sis, we're never going to get away from Father no matter what we do. How many hours did I spend learning self-defense? Hundreds? Thousands? Yet what good did it do me when Benji grabbed me?" Her bare toes kicked a brownish stain on the drab gray carpet. "Nothing. No matter how many moves I made, I couldn't do a darned thing to save myself, or you or Stone."

  Ariel's eyes were too dry to cry. Instead she stared at the sickly yellow light coming from the closed drapes.

  Tempest threw herself onto the mustard-colored chair. The fake leather squawked in protest. "Instead of running and running and running, and everyone around us getting killed, maybe we need to just go back and give ourselves up." She brought her feet up, wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face in her lap. Her sobs wrenched at Ariel's heart.

  Slowly, she got up and moved to her sister. As she stroked Tempest's back, she realized facing her worst fear would be better than living the paranoid life, which they now had. "You're right."

  Tempest shuddered and looked up at her.

  Ariel nodded. "Death might be better." She looked around the cheap room. "If you’re serious about this, instead of Mexico, we'll go home."

  Tempest indicated agreement. "Can we do one thing before we leave here?"

  "What?"

  "Go visit Uncle Stone's parents. I'd like to apologize."

  "Oh, Sabrina –"

  "I need to do this. If it wasn't for me-" Her eyes welled with tears and she bit back a sob. She didn't have to list all the people who she thought had died in her place.

  Ariel hugged her close, the chair's arm dug into her stomach. She closed her eyes and prayed for guidance, but the only thing that came to her was Tempest's plea to visit Stone’s parents. "If that's what you need to do, we'll do it." Decision made and fate accepted, it was easier to breathe.

  Chapter 35

  Tempest stared out the taxi window at what seemed like miles of parallel white planks that bordered the wide paved drive beyond the O'Banyon sign. She leaned close. "Uncle Stone said he grew up on a farm. This isn't a farm." She shivered. "His dad must be as rich and powerful as Father."

  "Want to forget this and go back?"

  Tempest nodded. "But I have to do it. If I don't, it'll be worse."

  Ariel studied Tempest. "You're awfully smart for someone your age."

  She gave her a tremulous smile. "Walk me to the door?"

  "Count on it."

  The cab stopped in front of a huge white-columned home that looked more like a stage set for a rich land baron movie or a swank bed and breakfast, than a home. A chill swept through Ariel at the thought of having yet another wealthy man seeking revenge.

  Stone's father would just have to stand in line.

  The driver turned around, hand out for his fee. "We'll only be staying a few minutes," Ariel said. She plucked a one-hundred-dollar bill from her pocket and tore it in two. As she gave him half, she added, "Wait for us, then take us to the airport
and you get the other half."

  He scrutinized the bill. "Fifteen minutes."

  A lifetime when faced with a wronged parent. They’d probably be sprinting back to the cab two minutes after Tempest started the speech she’d rehearsed until she complained her throat was sore. She looked, again, at the massive house. Or it could take his parents an hour just to get to the door. “Half hour.” Before he could barter for more money, she hopped out of the cab.

  Fingers twined with Tempest’s, she climbed the steps onto the shadowed front porch and approached the door, which looked at least ten feet tall. Hand trembling, she grasped the heavy brass ring on the bull's head knocker and let it fall. The clang reminded her of the sound movies used signifying the closing of a jail cell. Tempest’s sweaty hand tightened.

  After what felt like forever, but was probably a moment, she heard faint footfalls approaching. Tempest squared her shoulders. The door swung open and a tall blue-eyed woman looked at them. "May I help you?"

  "Mrs. O'Banyon?" Tempest's voice cracked. She stared at her, jaw working, but no sound coming out. Tempest inclined her head toward the elegant woman.

  Ariel smiled at her. "You don't know us, but we knew your son and daughter-"

  She brightened. "Friends from school?"

  Ariel shook her head.

  "We were in F-Fairbanks," Tempest said. "Mrs. O'Banyon, I – we came here because we needed to apologize to you. If it wasn't for us … actually, for my father –" Tears welled in her eyes. She looked helplessly at Ariel, who made an empty gesture, unable to articulate her stepfather's villainy. Tears poured down Tempest's cheeks. "I'm so, so sorry,” she gasped out the words she’d worked to hard to get right, losing much of her message in the torrent of tears. “It seems like everyone who cares about us gets killed, but-"

  The woman’s posture straightened and she stared at them. "You have to be Ariel and Tempest!" She grasped their wrists in a viselike hold, turned her head and screamed, "Stonehenge!" The name echoed over the porch and through the massive foyer as Mrs. O’Banyon yanked them inside and slammed the door shut.