Red Ochre Falls

by Kristen Gibson

  In a flash, the thing they were running from rode up on a horse. He jumped off and knocked me to the ground.

  He pulled out his sword. I rolled, but he managed to cut through flesh near my shoulder. It hurt like fire. It was a small wound, but the blood came quickly.

  Electricity surged and I nearly fainted. Millie stabilized me. I was back at her shop, confused about what happened.

  Millie handed me a cloth to cover the wound. It cooled the fire and made my head feel better. Probably another magical thing I didn’t have time to question.

  Without any explanation, she mixed the potion, funneled it into an old apothecary bottle, and capped it with the stopper. She paused before she gave me directions.

  “Ya take this directly to him, ya hear? He needs to drink this before the poison kills him.”

  I nodded. “Got it. Straight there, drink right away, or he dies.” I said it calmly, but I was anything but calm.

  “Ya need to drink dis one for your wound. And girl, admit you care. Tell dat boy how ya really feel. If you wait too long, he won’t be the only one to suffer.”

  “But—”

  “Go. We don’t have time. Besides you’re not ready to hear it all. Just go and save the boy. May the good Lord help ya both.”

  I took a step and turned back. “How did you know about Sigo?”

  “Da spirits talk to me, girl.” She cackled long and deep.

  Were we in N’awlins? Maybe Garrett was right about the voo-doo thing. I couldn’t ask because Millie pushed me out the door so fast.

  Garrett was asleep sitting up in his office chair when I arrived. At least, I hoped he was sleeping. I went to put a hand on his arm and he nearly jumped when he woke up. But, he could barley move. If he’d had actual energy, he might have ended up out of his seat on the ground. Things looked very bad. He needed help, fast.

  I held up the bottle, hoping it would work, but unsure if the potion could actually heal him. I sighed. “Garrett, she said you have to drink this.”

  “Unh,” he grunted.

  “Hey, you drink that one and I’ll drink this.”

  He sat up and attempted to laugh.

  “Why are you laughing? This is not funny.”

  “We have to play a drinking game using some red gunk an eccentric lady told us would keep me from dying. It sounds just crazy enough to work.”

  “She’s an herbalist, and I feel the same. If we make it through this, you owe me a real drink. Now, it’s late. Do it.”

  “Down the hatch,” Garrett leaned back and drank.

  I tipped mine back and let the potion slide down my throat. It felt odd, but it didn’t taste overly sweet like I expected. It felt kind of thick, but was pleasant. Then I choked. Something like vinegar hit my taste buds.

  Garrett had a coughing fit. I reached for a cloth. He waved me off and pointed to the glass. I gave him some water and he took a sip between gasps. It helped.

  “That was awful.”

  “Not surprising, since I saw what she put in yours.”

  “Do I need to know?”

  “No, but they do this kind of thing in the movies all the time.”

  “Movies, huh?”

  He smiled and pulled me in for a kiss on the forehead. “Cal told me to keep an eye on you. Tab will be in the hospital for a couple weeks, but Thibodeaux made bail. We think he’ll come after you. A security detail is on you and your mom 24/7, but be cautious.”

  I shivered at the thought. “Do you think Ruggiano or Sultan will come after us?”

  Garrett handed me a note. “A messenger brought it over about fifteen minutes before you arrived.” I opened the thick envelope and read the note:

  Dearest Matilda,

  After hearing of your recent trip north, my business associates and I have reached a new agreement. We will alter a few plans, but will continue our profitable partnership.

  If it weren’t for you, this new understanding wouldn’t have been possible. We thank you for showing us a more fruitful opportunity could blossom.

  I trust you’ll accept this as a token of our thanks and friendship.

  Warmly,

  Sultan

  He’d enclosed five thousand dollars cash. It would go a long way to helping mom and me, but there was no way I’d keep it. It was hush money.

  “How do I send this back?”

  “Let’s show Cal. He’ll help us figure out how to respond. I’ll lock it up until we can meet him in person and discuss it. Get some rest. I’ll be here if you need me.”

  “Do you want me to take you home, or bring you anything?”

  He opened his lower desk drawer and pulled out a blanket. “Nope. I’m good. See you in the morning.”

  The light drizzle persisted. Fresh leaf piles were now matted heaps along the roadside when I looked outside. It was going to be a cold, wet night.

  Mom needed help to get from the couch to the bedroom when I returned. I murmured something about a long day and needing to study, so she didn’t ask questions. It bought me time. She was so tired, she barely moved while I gathered some dry clothes.

  I washed up, changed into pink flannel PJs with fuzzy slippers, and made a quick dinner.

  I took my plate along with a drink and got comfy on the couch. When the micro Mac and cheese was gone, I had an apple and some yogurt, followed by a couple cookies with milk. Being nearly killed made me famished. Food helped.

  When I finally got comfy on the couch with my laptop, it was almost eleven o’clock.

  My phone buzzed. I reached for it and noticed the note from Chloe stuffed in my purse. I’d get to it in the morning.

  It was a text from Garrett: I’ve turned into a zombie and want your—brains!

  I wrote: I’m partial to my brains, how about my body?

  It was flirty, but felt right, so I sent it.

  The bubbles on the screen flickered for a minute before his response came: Willing to negotiate a package deal?

  I responded: Sure, but I’m a tough negotiator.

  He responded: Counting on it.

  Was it getting hot in here? On that note, I smiled and set the phone aside. I fought the urge to wander down and see him.

  Now that I was alert, I spent the next couple hours going through the files and outlining what I knew for Cal and the CPD to review. Their analysis might come up with the same stuff, but it felt productive to do the work.

  Shortly after two, I crawled under a blanket and passed out.

  CHAPTER 32

  When mom saw my note the next day, I’d been gone for hours. I told her I’d be doing a class project at the library, so she wouldn’t try to reach me (no phones allowed), and to not expect me until dinner. I knew hiding was cowardly, but I’d talk through all this with mom after I got things done.

  Sun peeked out from behind the grey hanging above, but the temps stayed cool. Since so much stress gripped my shoulders and chest, I planned to stop by the old gym Garrett had showed me, to shake off some bad energy.

  Before I could go there though, I needed to take care of a couple things. As much as the Hellcat and I had bonded, she sacrificed a front-end to save me from a tree, it was time to get my car back.

  I apologized to Dawes for the damage the Hellcat sustained—including the crumpled side door. He told me repairs kept him in business, and offered to let me visit her once she was restored to her original glory.

  Bianca gave me the side-eye when I turned in the keys. She couldn’t have been jealous of my Honda, but she sure acted like something was up.

  Dawes shook his head when I left. I think he felt sorry for me, but he understood reality. And reality was I’d been through the ringer and I didn’t drive an expensive muscle car with leather interior and 700 horsepower. I drove a crappy old rust bucket. One that had been fine tuned by a great mechanic, but still sounded like a dying chicken whenever I hit the gas, or turned, or tapped the brakes. So, after I saved the world, I’d get a good job, and maybe someday, I’d get a nice car.
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  Wind pushed my junker around the entire way to the Ellis house. Dread filled my gut, but I knocked on the door anyway.

  I sat with Mrs. Ellis and told her everything. Someone brought coffee, cocoa, and cookies. We sipped, talked, and cried.

  Knowing Chloe had not committed suicide brought her some relief, but with it came great pain. Nothing could bring Chloe back. We helped each other embrace the anger and sadness, and promised to stay in touch.

  As much as punching stuff relieved stress, there was still residual anxiety even after my workout. It didn’t help that I’d read Chloe’s note.

  In it, Chloe thanked me. She made sure to explain the silver etched necklace reminded her of our friendship—before Tab, when things became unbearable. She knew just what to say to make me feel better, but I cried anyway.

  I toweled off, touched up my lips and eyes, and then changed into curve hugging jeans and a V-neck sweater. I got more looks on the way out than I had in my sweat pants, but no one said a word. It wasn’t the kind of crowd that would have whistled or anything, but even if someone was tempted, the look on my face was enough to them keep quiet.

  Garrett leaned against my old car as if it was a sports car. Lucky car.

  “Ready to negotiate?” Garrett’s thousand-watt smile beamed. My anxiety melted away. The poison was gone and he’d be fine.

  “Are you ready?” I faced him with my hip near the driver’s side door.

  He turned to me. “I’m always ready.”

  Of course you are. “You look good for having been poisoned and all.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I do. Just making you squirm a little. Trying to get a tactical advantage. You look pretty good yourself.” Garrett gently kissed my cheek. The heat between us made me want to…do so many things.

  My heart pounded out of my chest as he moved closer. His lips brushed my neck softly and tingles surged through my entire body.

  “I just want you to know I’m sorry.”

  A wave of emotion choked me up, but I managed a “Thank you.”

  “It’s never easy to lose someone. I’m available anytime you need to talk.”

  “That means a lot.” I tried to smile.

  “Looks like I’ll have to stick close to you though. Cal said Sultan and Ruggiano are cleared, and Thibodeaux is back in Louisiana letting his lawyer handle things, but I don’t trust any of them to leave you alone.”

  I shook involuntarily. Garrett put an arm around me. His expression changed. “Do you want to go see her? She’s good as new.”

  “What?” It was difficult to figure out what he meant.

  He nuzzled my ear. “I’m talking about the Maserati.”

  I lightly punched his arm. “You’re in big trouble. I thought your car exploded yesterday.”

  “It did. Dawes gave me a loaner. I should drive though, since you’re so hard on cars.” He laughed then looked at me earnestly. “Chloe was lucky to have you as a friend. You’re smart, determined, and beautiful, and I want whatever trouble you’ll give me.”

  He didn’t pause to let me think or even respond, he just pulled me into a steamy kiss, and I knew we were both in big trouble.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Kristen Gibson is an author and freelance writer. Her work has appeared in numerous print and online publications. When not writing, she is most likely playing, biking, reading, or goofing off with her husband and children.

  Visit the author online at

  www.kristengibson.com

  @KGwrites