Studying Granger closely for a moment, Paul thought, Yep, seen his type before, this man could be deadly if anyone pushed the right buttons. Clearing his throat, he replied, “Mr. Mortensen, last night Detective Jeannine Rhodes went to arrest Brett Parker, and was murdered right there on his property. We also discovered the body of a missing person, a private investigator by the name of Buddy Martin. He was buried in a shallow grave just several feet from where detective Rhodes was murdered.”
On hearing the news, Granger's entire demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. Looking at Malcolm, he said, “Have the driver bring Cassandra back here, right now!”
“Sure thing, Chief.”
“Mr. Mortensen, your wife is really the one I need to talk to.” Paul explained. “I'm hoping she may have some idea where Mr. Parker may be hiding. And don't worry, we're keeping a close eye on the hotel here.”
Standing, Granger walked to the bar and replied, “Well, she should be back in fifteen or twenty minutes, after Malcolm contacts them. She promised not to wander very far. Oh, and I apologize for my ill manners, would you like a soda or something?” he asked as he poured himself a crystal tumbler full of Vodka. “I would offer you a drink, but I know you officers don't drink on duty.”
“Oh, I accept, Mr. Mortensen. Don't believe everything you see on those lame cop shows on television. The day I'm having, I need a good, strong drink.” he replied with a grim chuckle.
****************************
Zeke drove to the outskirts of town, to a run-down motel that had seen better days. Looking at the dingy sign out front as he parked and got out of his car, he grunted, “Trail Motel, kinda' beneath your standards, isn't it, you fruit loop lunatic?” he mumbled to himself, thinking of Martina.
As he looked for the room she said she would be in, he watched a middle aged, balding, short, shifty looking man climb out of a minivan that looked to be packed with football equipment. The man smoothed his artificially dyed comb-over, then zipped up his Members Only jacket and made a beeline for a prostitute (he was streetwise enough to tell) who stood in an open doorway nearby. Shaking his head and chuckling, he thought, Fool! You're probably risking your life and family for a five minute nut with some whore who's only interested in you till the money runs out.
With a heavy sigh, he focused his attention back on finding Martina's room, and found it shortly afterwards. Satisfied no one was watching, he knocked on the door, and it was opened almost immediately. “Why this place?” he asked with honest curiosity. “Why such a dump?”
“I’m keeping a low profile, what do you think? You think anyone gives a shit about what goes on in here? Besides vice officers, maybe, and suspicious wives? Come in.” she hissed nervously, looking left and right, then motioning him inside.
Stepping in the room and looking around, he grimaced as she shut the door behind them. The room was decorated in the nastiest sea-foam green color imaginable, it looked like something from a 1970s bad acid trip, and he could clearly hear a couple in the next room moaning loudly, and what sounded like the headboard of their bed banging against the wall. “Isn’t keeping a low profile supposed to include steering clear of police officers? VICE police officers?” he laughed.
“Most of them are on the take. Not from me, but the pimps. We’re safe." she shot back
Glancing at the bed, he was surprised to see the bedspread was covered with dozens of bridal magazines. “What's up, you plan on auditioning for a reality show called 'Psycho Bride' or something?” he asked sarcastically, then picked up one of the magazines that featured wedding cakes. “Did you find yourself a new beau to march down the aisle and give you what you want, darling?”
Giving him a murderous look, she pinched her red lips together and snatched the magazine from him. “Of course not, you insufferable jackass! You know that my Granger is the only one for me. I'm planning my wedding, to HIM...darling!” she snapped. Getting down to business, she tossed the magazine back down on the bed, then picked up what looked like a batch of pamphlets and handed them to him. “I'm even looking into several boarding schools, overseas, for that brat of Cassandra's. I think after you eliminate that bitch, Granger will mourn for a few weeks, then he'll announce our wedding. It will be such a grand event, surpassing even Princess Di's wedding!” she giggled.
Holy Jesus, and I thought she was losing it BEFORE! This bitch's elevator goes to the tenth floor, but drops her off at the third! He thought as he looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face. “So, you thinking killing Cassandra will be the answer to all your problems? What happens if Granger doesn't want to send the kid away, or he doesn't want you?”
“Then you kill the brat too, you idiot, after you've killed the whore! If you do, I'll pay you double! After all, our own children, mine and Granger's, should be the only heirs to the Mortensen fortune anyway! Oh, and here's your money.” she said as she grabbed her purse from the battered nightstand, pulled a thick brown envelope out, then offered it to him.
Kill a child? How low can I sink? He wondered. Snatching the envelope from her, he growled, “I'll take care of everything.” Turning to leave, he wished to God he had never gotten himself mixed up with Martina or her family, because at the moment he felt as if his very soul had been burned to a cinder. Too late, too late! Just get it over with and try to find some hole to crawl into and forget. If you CAN….he thought.
Chapter 35
“Now, Cassandra, you're going back to the day of your attack.” Doctor Zachrich's voice softly directed her through the hypnotic quest for her much needed answers.
Granger sat in tense silence as he watched his wife struggle to remember. At the moment she was lying perfectly still and rigid, as if expecting a physical blow. Both her hands, which were balled tightly into fists, rested lightly on her stomach. Tossing her head from side to side, she frowned and moaned as she tried to make sense of the flashes emerging from her sub consciousness, wanting desperately to process them and understand, but at the moment they were simply coming too quickly.
Sensing her distress, Doctor Zackrich calmly instructed her, “Cassandra, take slow, deep breaths, you're breathing too fast, and I don't want you to end up hyperventilating, Ok? Just concentrate on describing what you're seeing and feeling, we'll try to make sense of all of it later. Right now, just describe them.”
Relaxing somewhat, her breathing slowed, and after a moment she spoke. “I’m at the cabin reading a book. In front of the fireplace.” she moaned, then nervously licked a bead of sweat off her upper lip. “I hear footsteps, on the porch, I think. Faint, and stealthy. Someone’s knocking on the door."
Preparing for the worst, Granger perched nervously on the edge of his seat. Lord, please don't let it be mother who attacked her...he prayed silently.
“I don't know why she's here!” she continued, irritation clear in her voice. “She’s demanding that I let her come in so we can talk. I’m opening the door, we're arguing...shouting at one another. She wants me to leave my husband...take my son and leave him, for good. I made a mistake by turning my back on her!” she whimpered as her breathing became erratic again. Suddenly, her hands flew up to her face and she screamed, “SHE HURT ME!”
Heartbroken, Granger slumped back in his seat. No matter how awkward his relationship with his own mother had always been, he had never wanted to believe she could be capable of such a thing. And for three long years, she's looked me in the face like nothing was wrong....he thought as a cold chill swept over him.
“Cassandra, who's the woman? Can you see her clearly?” the doctor asked in a soothing voice, then gently took her hand in his and checked her pulse, hoping that the contact would keep her calm as she relived the horrible events.
“Yes, I know her.” she whimpered, still struggling with her emotions.
The cabin, located at Roaring Branch
“You should leave, you're nothing more than an albatross around Granger's neck! Just leave, and take that mongrel kid of yours with you!!” t
he redheaded woman screamed like a banshee.
Almost as if it had a mind of its own, Cassandra's right hand suddenly flashed out and connected with the side of the woman's face, delivering a vicious slap, which stunned both of them. “Don't you ever talk that way about my child again, or I swear, I'll kill you!” she raged, at her wit's end with both Martina and Grace's constant schemes to undermine her marriage. Glaring at the woman, she wanted to make her suffer, the way they had always made her. “You stupid, worn out whore! Do you think my leaving Granger, refusing my husband's love, will make him want you?” she asked. When the woman didn't answer, she sneered and spat, “Granger thinks you're pitiful, you DO know that, don't you? He doesn't see you as sexy or alluring, he sees you as a gold-digging HANGER-ON! And from your visit tonight, I know he's right! But you know what?” she continued, knowing it would probably be best to end her taunting, but the rage fueling her wouldn't allow it. “I have to thank you, too! That's right! You see, before you came here, I really was very close to giving up on my marriage, but now it's NOT going to happen!”
“You little....common TRAMP!” the woman snarled as her lips curled in disgust. “I ought to....”
“Yes, I have YOU to thank!” she interrupted with a bright smile of malice. “I want to thank you for making me realize that my husband IS worth fighting for!! Our son... having his father and mother together, IS worth fighting for! So you can hang it up, Muffy..... I'm not going ANYWHERE!” she laughed, and deciding she was done with the woman, turned and headed for the door, in order to show her the way out.
“YOU BLACK BITCH!! GRANGER IS MINE!!!”
Too late, she realized she had pushed the woman over the edge, then whirled around in a panic just as the deranged would-be home wrecker charged at her, brandishing her very own cast iron, antique fireplace poker. Throwing her arms in front of her face, they offered little protection as the poker came crashing down on the top of her head, knocking her to the floor instantly. Suddenly unable to see, her mind gibbered in panic as she realized she was being blinded by her own blood. Painful blow after painful blow followed, until she felt herself slipping into a black abyss, knowing she would never see Granger or Regan again.
******An undetermined amount of time later******
She didn't know how long she had been out, but when she regained consciousness, the pain that was still crashing through her skull was nearly unbearable, and she realized she was no longer completely blinded. Able to make out hazy, vague images, she thought a man was leaning over her, close to her face, looking at her, and when he spoke, the pain exploding through her skull tripled, making her whimper weakly. “Goddamn it, I told you to give the pills time!” the figure hovering over her growled in what sounded like a very angry voice. “Damn you, I told you I wanted her for myself! Well, count yourself lucky she's still alive!”
“We have to get rid of her! No one must ever find out about what happened here, I'll lose Granger!” a vaguely familiar female voice whined.
“No one will ever know, but we will NOT kill her.” the man snapped. “I promise you, my dear, impatient cousin, she'll be taken out of the picture, and you can have that waste of flesh Granger.” the man finished as she felt him reach down and begin examining the wounds on the top of her head gently.
“Don‘t let her hurt me...” she cried out in a weak voice, then fell silent as she felt a sharp stabbing pain in her arm.
“Shhhh....this is for the pain, dear, and to help you rest. I'm here for you, I‘m not gonna let anything bad happen again.” the man cooed softly as he gently stroked her bruised and swollen face with one hand.
As she felt herself slipping into darkness yet again, she opened her eyes as wide as she could, one last time, to try to get a good look at him…
“Brett!” Cassandra screamed as she sat upright so suddenly Granger scrambled from his seat in a panic and rushed to her, just as she began sobbing.
Wrapping his arms around her in a protective embrace, he cooed, “Shhhh...hush now, you're safe, sweetheart.” As her sobs subsided, he urged her in a gentle voice, “Just calm down and tell me what you remember. Was my mother the woman who came to see you?”
Burying her face in his chest, she murmured in a miserable voice, “Martina, the woman from the restaurant at the Flagstone Inn. It was her. We argued, and I told her I wasn't leaving you. She attacked me with a fireplace poker, and when I regained consciousness, Brett was there. He told her he would take me away, take care of me, protect me. He called her ‘cousin‘. His exact words were, ‘my dear, impatient cousin‘”.
Seething, Granger felt his large frame shake with pent-up rage, and at the moment he felt as if he could plow his way through a brick wall. “Dead, they're both DEAD!” he roared, then leaped to his feet and stormed towards the office door.
Alarms going off in her head, Cassandra leaped to her feet in a panic and dashed towards him, clutching at one arm with both hands and digging her heels in. “Granger...GRANGER!!!!” she screamed so desperately that he stopped, mid-stride, and looked down at her. “Brett's already killed two people, that we know of, you can't go after him! Darling, we just found each other again! If you go after that no good bastard and something bad happens to you, I don't know what I would do! Please, if not for me, think of our son!”
Looking down at her as if pole-axed, he reached down and wiped her tears away with both hands. “You're right, I shouldn't be so rash. I want to always be there for the both of you. You won't lose me, my love.” he said in a soft voice.
Doctor Zachrick released a huge sigh of relief, although secretly, he didn't blame the man for being so enraged. “I think we had best report this to the police, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Mortensen?”
Nodding reluctantly, Granger looked down at his lovely wife again, smiled warmly, and thought , Please, PLEASE, whoever catches up with the bastard, let him be one of those heavy-handed, trigger happy, hot dog cops!
Chapter 36
“This is as far as I go. The woman you're seeking is at the doctor's cottage, located about a half-mile that way.” the young Mexican man said, then pointed in the direction they needed to go.
“Many thanks, Amigo.” Raidon grunted, then handed the man another folded one hundred dollar bill and watched him hurry off.
Hunched behind some overgrown shrubs, Cynne' looked around the unkempt landscape. Grabbing the set of binoculars Raidon had given her, she surveyed the buildings in the distance. Nearly every structure was gray and gloomy, and the surrounding landscape, complete with dead and dying trees and plants, looked to her like a movie set for a creepy, Gothic horror movie. She didn't like this one bit, and a sense of foreboding washed over her as she thought about a deeply disturbing movie she had watched recently, called Hostel 2. Swallowing a large lump in her throat, she whispered, “Now, tell me again why we have to sneak around this place?”
Frustrated, Raidon sighed impatiently. She had asked the same question at least 10 times on their way here. “The good doctor is avoiding me. When I phoned him, saying a relative of Karen Washington's wanted to speak to him, he lied and said he didn't know anyone by that name, then hung up. All the messages I left after that went unanswered, sooo, that’s why we're here, sneaking around, my little spitfire.”
“Would you please stop calling me that?” she replied in an absentminded voice, then frowned and said, “Maybe we should call the cops. This whole creepy, horror movie vibe going here is making me nervous. The odds are against us because of the horror movie protocol, you know.”
“Oh dear Lord.” he mumbled, then cocked his head to one side and raised one eyebrow. “Ok, my little spitfire, I'll bite. Just what in the blue hell would that be, this 'horror movie protocol'?”
Rolling her eyes, she looked at him as if he had just sprouted wings. “You mean you don't know? Listen, in just about every horror movie that's ever been made, there are a few things that never change. For instance, the police never, and I do mean NEVER, arrive until the bad guys or monsters h
ave been dealt with. And there's always the young couple having sex, despite the fact someone or someTHING just killed twenty of their friends. Oh, and the killer or monster is always hiding under the bed, and while they get their groove-on, he stabs them both, from underneath the bed.”
Unable to believe what he was hearing, he burst out laughing at the dead serious look on the woman's face.
Unfazed, she continued. “And in just about every horror movie something bad always happens to the hot black chick! That would be me.” she said proudly. “The nerdy, oversexed Asian exchange student, that would be YOU...always ends up taking a dirt nap too.”
Frowning, he tried to affect an indignant look. “That's stereotypical! I'll have you know my father was white Irish! In fact, little Ms. Thang, I suck at math, so I'm not a nerd!” he said, deciding to ignore her comment about being oversexed, since that was the way he actually felt, ever since seeing her naked in the bath tub.
“Look at me like I'm crazy, see if I care! It's carved in stone, we're practically doomed already! You'll be the first to die, probably lured away by some woman dressed in a skimpy nurse outfit with her boobs almost popping out. She'll turn out to be a deranged killer that's getting even for the boyfriend who dumped her in high school.” she rambled, looking around nervously as if expecting an axe-wielding madwoman to jump out at them at any moment. “Yep, the deranged killer always gets the smart Asian first...” her voice trailed off as she turned and gave him a doubtful look. “Well, maybe the killer will discover you're not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but it doesn't matter anyway. He or she will want to take out the dumbass, steroid-enhanced jocks and their diddy-bop, cheerleader girlfriends. That happens all the time too.”
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