by Erin Huss
Errr… “Yes.”
“How fun! Can I take a picture with you?”
I had more important things to do than pose for pictures.
But then again, she was a fan.
She held up her phone and we smiled. I felt awkward. I’d never been recognized before. Nor had I ever taken a picture with a stranger. “Are you moving to Vegas?” she asked. “Because this is a great house, and it’s priced to sell.”
“No, I’m not actually. But are you sure you’ve never heard of Richard Clark before?”
“Just on the podcast. Let me ask you this, do you think it was Carlos?”
Oh geez.
I was going to have to release three episodes a week to get listeners caught up. Right now, they were still learning about the apple through the window. She didn’t know about Jeremy, or Richard, or even Penny.
But there was no time to dwell on work. Not when Richard was driving around who knows where, doing who knows what, to who knows who.
Also, the dog next door wouldn’t stop barking, and it was giving me a headache.
“Thank you for listening,” I said to the woman. “Be sure to tune in on Monday.” I cut across the lawn when I heard a window breaking. The dog rapid fired desperate barks and I stopped in my tracks. The neighboring house looked exactly like the house for sale, except for the blue welcome mat at the front door. I peeked in through the side window and could see the tip of an elbow poking out from behind a wall.
Needing a better view, I went around to the side of the house and looked in. I had a full view of the living room and kitchen. Standing near the refrigerator was Richard Clark, he was yelling at a person who was blocked by the refrigerator.
I used the plastic trash bins lined along the fence as a boost to climb over into the backyard. The dog didn’t pay any attention to me. He was too busy barking at Richard, and I grabbed a potted tomato plant from the garden and tiptoed to the back of the house.
The sliding door had a fist-sized hole near the handle and I carefully pulled it open.
“I’m not scared of you anymore!” came a woman’s voice from the inside the kitchen.
I continued to tiptoe through the dining room until I was directly behind Richard. I lifted the pot as high as I could and slammed it against his skull.
In the movies, a pot to the head would cause any grown man to fall to his knees.
In reality, not so much.
Richard spun around. “You?” he almost spit the words out. “You!” He lunged toward me. I grabbed the pepper spray out of my back pocket and sprayed his eyes. He fell back against a wall of pictures and slid down to the floor.
There was a moment when Richard was holding his face, and I was standing there with my pepper spray in hand, that I locked eyes with a brunette in a loose-fitting jersey dress.
I knew those blue eyes.
I knew that nose.
It was Amelia.
I never thought in a million years this podcast would end with Amelia standing before me alive, and married, and brunette. But before I could dwell too much on Amelia, I was on the ground. Richard Clark was on top of me, and he was a big man. I couldn’t move. Amelia wrapped her arms around Richard’s neck and he pushed her away with such ease you’d think she was a feather.
I couldn’t take Richard Clark. He had at least two hundred pounds on me. His eyes were black and red-rimmed. The harder I struggled, the tighter his grasp. I could feel my bones succumbing to the pressure.
“Get off!” Amelia broke a picture frame over Richard’s head. The man must have had a skull constructed of titanium because he didn’t flinch. He grabbed the bottom of Amelia’s dress and pulled her to the floor, still pinning me down with his body weight. She cracked her head against the tile floor and let out a moan.
I kicked my legs, frantic to break free. Richard cupped his left hand around my neck, and his right hand around Amelia’s. It felt like I was breathing through a straw. Amelia clawed at Richard’s arm while I fought to remain conscious.
Richard let go of my neck, keeping his other firmly around Amelia’s. I gasped for air, my body still pinned under his. He reached into his back pocket and produced a gun. Crap!
He placed the barrel on my temple. Oh no. Please no. I knew my skull was not constructed of impenetrable material. This was not how I wanted to die. He cocked the gun. I kicked my legs, using the last bit of oxygen I had left in my body. His finger went to the trigger. I squeezed my eyes shut. There was a click. I opened my eyes.
“Dammit!” Richard stared down at the gun as if it had betrayed him.
“Get off of my sister!” Camry was standing in the living room holding a brick. She cocked her arm and threw it with terrible precision. The brick sailed over Richard’s head and crashed into a lamp. It offered enough distraction where I was able to wiggle my right arm free. I reached for the pepper spray on the floor, using the tips of my fingers to edge it closer, and when Richard looked back down, I gave him another squirt right into the eyes.
He fell to his side, holding his face. Amelia and I crawled backwards on our elbows, gasping for air. Camry grabbed an empty vase from the side table and hurled it at Richard with better accuracy this time and it landed on his shoulder.
Richard let out a moan and clutched his arm. The vase didn’t even break, but Richard was acting as if he’d been shot. He rolled to his stomach, still clutching his shoulder until he gasped one breath and...
Camry and I shared a look. Amelia struggled to her feet.
“Um…” Camry took a step forward. “Richard?” She poked him with the toe of her shoe, but he didn’t move.
I pulled myself upright using the back of the couch and shuffled over to the large man lying motionless in the middle of the floor. If he was playing possum, he was a good actor because even the vein on his neck had stopped pulsing.
“I think he’s dead,” I said.
“What!” Camry freaked. “I didn’t mean to kill him!”
“Bastard deserves it,” I said, rubbing my sore next. “Maybe he had a heart attack? Did you call 911 already?”
Camry looked at me but said nothing.
“Call 911!” I barked at her.
“Yeah, okay.” Her fingers flew across the screen of her phone, and she slammed it to her ear.
I stared down at Richard, knowing what I had to do.
Yes, if his gun had worked properly I would be dead right now.
But that’s the thing. I was not Richard.
Oh hell.
I pushed him onto his back and straddled his stomach, placing my clasped fists on the center of his chest just below the sternum. “One, two, three, four...” I counted with each compression. Then I plugged his nose, opened his mouth, and closed my eyes.
“The operator says to only do chest compressions and not mouth-to-mouth,” said Camry before I had a chance to make contact.
“Thank you, podcasting gods.” I returned to chest compressions until I could hear the sirens approaching. Camry unlocked the front door and two paramedics entered and took over for me.
I clutched on to Camry’s arm to keep from falling over, as I did a quick scan of the room.
Amelia was gone.
“Go outside and wait for the police to arrive,” I told Camry.
“But—” she started to protest.
“Make sure you tell them that Richard attacked first.”
She gave a feeble nod of her head and did as asked. I took the opportunity to search the house, going from room to room. Parked in the garage was Jeremy’s car. I should have asked the woman next door if she’d ever heard of Jeremy Wang or Doris Fundoogle instead of Richard.
Not that any of that mattered at this point.
Up the stairs I went, starting with the hall bathroom and what appeared to be a guest room. The master bedroom had double doo
rs, and I grabbed both handles but they were locked.
“Amelia?” I called through the thin crack in the door. “Amelia are you in there? It’s okay. You can come out.” I wiggled the handles. “Hello.”
It was Amelia.
Wasn’t it?
I tromped back down the stairs and stopped at the last step. A picture of Jeremy and a girl who looked a lot like Amelia hung between two sconces. The girl had a fuller frame, a smile that reached her eyes, and brown hair that touched her shoulders. She was wearing a sleeveless white dress that fell to her feet. He was in a suit and tie with a single rose pinned to his lapel. They were standing on the steps of what looked like City Hall, holding hands.
Well, I’ll be damned.
The police arrived just as Richard was rushed into the back of an ambulance. He had an oxygen mask over his face, but the paramedic was still performing chest compressions. Richard showed zero signs of life.
“I’ll admit,” Camry said, swinging an arm around my shoulders. “I did not see this ending coming.”
“Me either.” I snaked my arm around her waist. “Thanks for saving my life.”
“Meh, I was in the neighborhood.” She winked down at me.
And here I thought bringing her along would be more of a chore.
We were approached by a female police officer with slicked black hair and thin lips. “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked.
Camry and I shared a look.
“I’ll go,” Camry said. “So it all started when Liv’s boss said she had no oomph…” Camry proceeds to tell the officer everything from the podcast to our impromptu trip to Vegas. “And when Liv didn’t come back, I went looking for her and heard the commotion inside this house, saw Mr. CinnaMann choking Liv and another woman and sprung to action.”
“And who is Mr. CinnaMann?” the officer asked.
“Sorry, that would be Richard Clark. He owns a bakery.”
“Okay,” she said and directed her attention to me. “Why were you in the house?”
“I heard a struggle and the dog was barking, when I looked inside I saw Richard about to attack his daughter.”
Camry gasped. “You saw Amelia?”
“She’s up in the master bedroom.”
“You saw Amelia?” Camry repeated.
“There’s a picture from her and Jeremy’s wedding day in the stairwell.”
“You saw Amelia?”
The white rabbit car screeched to a stop behind the police car. Jeremy got out and slid over the hood like they do in the movies. He ran toward us, worry creasing his brow. I cocked my thumb behind me. “She’s safe inside your room, and Richard is at the hospital.”
Jeremy opened his mouth, searching for words, when Camry gave him a shove. “Get your butt inside and help your wife.”
She didn’t have to say it twice. Jeremy bolted up the stairs, taking two at a time, and passed a police officer walking our way, shaking his head.
“You’re not going to believe this story,” he said to his partner.
Episode Thirty-Four
Dori
I closed the closet door and sat on the ground. Hazel moved all the toys and dress up clothes to a different room, allowing me enough space to work without creepy dolls staring at me. Camry and I constructed a small desk I’d ordered from Ikea, and we learned that we should never construct furniture together.
It nearly broke our relationship.
The door slid open and Camry poked her head in. “Are you nerv—”
“Shhh,” I cut her off. “Stop asking me that.”
“Sorry, geez. Are you…what are you?”
“Relieved.” I plugged in the microphone and gave her a headset. “Do you want to listen in?”
“No. It’s your podcast, and you’re the one who found her, and you’re the one who is the super famous host, and you’re the one who put all the money in, you should do this last interview in peace.”
“Take the headset, Camry.”
“Okay.” She snatched it from my grasp and sat on the floor.
I set up the mixer and got everything ready for the call. Then I switched over to Skype and used the email address provided. The screen turned blue and I slipped on my headset, listening to the ringing. Of course, I’d hoped Amelia would grant me an interview, but after all that she’d been through I didn’t plan on asking her for at least two weeks, wanting to give her space. So you could imagine how surprised I was to receive her email the day after we returned home from Vegas.
“Hello?” Amelia answered.
I heaved a sigh of relief. There was a part of me that thought she’d change her mind. “Hi, it’s Liv and Camry,” I said. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” she said. “And you?”
“We’re doing good.” I looked down at Camry and she gave me a thumbs up. “Before we get started can we test the microphone?”
“Sure. One, two, three, four…” she continued to count to twenty until I could adjust the sound quality. Amelia had a sweet, soft voice, which was charming, but made it harder to catch.
“Okay, we’re recording. Thank you for speaking with us,” I started. “I was surprised to get your email.”
“Honestly, I was surprised I sent it. But it seems only right to give my side of things. I’ve listened to all the episodes up until now, and I don’t want anyone’s name unnecessarily dragged through the mud.”
“Are you talking about Carlos?” I asked.
I could almost hear Amelia nodding her head. “He’s a good friend. I know people automatically assume he’s trouble just because he has a rough exterior. But he’s a really good guy.”
“I can see that now, and I’m certain listeners will see that, too,” I said. I had to crank out the episodes, three a week, to get listeners caught up. “Can you tell us about the night you disappeared?”
“Sure,” she said with a long exhale. “Well, you know about the video. And you know that Richard was not happy about it.” His name fell out of her mouth like it was an offensive word. “Public perception was everything to that man. He put so much pressure on us to be perfect that it broke my mom. That night I had a date with Oliver.” She lets out a little chuckle. “What are the odds, right?”
I assumed she’s referring to the fact that she had a date with Oliver, and I was currently dating Oliver…well, if you called nights spent in eating pizza and “playing” baseball dating.
Which, for the record, I do.
“What happened after the ATM visit?” I asked.
“Richard asked me to meet the repairman at CinnaMann’s that night. He was driving home from a conference and didn’t think he’d make it in time. He’d been on my case all week about the stupid video and losing my job, and I sort of snapped. I told him I wouldn’t go and hung up. But then when I was at the ATM, I remembered Carlos’ brother worked for Joe and Son’s, so I thought I’d at least let him in to the bakery. But when I got to there, Richard was there. He’d sent Raymond home, because it turned out to be an easy fix. We sort of got into it. He wasn’t used to me standing up for myself, but I’d had with that man…” her voice trailed off and I waited for her continue without pressing for more details.
“Anyway,” she finally said. “Richard wasn’t a violent man. Words were his weapon of choice.”
“What was he saying?” I asked, feeling a bit pushy, but I knew the listeners would want to know.
“The normal. What a disappointment I was, and how I was as crazy as my mother. How the video would hurt business…I was just done. So I threw a whisk at his head and knocked him over.”
“A whisk?” I asked, to be sure I heard her right. “Like the little handheld thing you whisk stuff with?” I broke a pot on the man’s head and he barely flinched.
“No. You’ve been in the bakery. Do you remember the standup mixers th
at are big enough to fit a person in?”
I thought back to our tour. “Yes, I do remember seeing one.”
“Right, so the whisk attachment is what I threw at him.”
Oh, yeah, that might hurt.
“He got really mad,” Amelia said. “And he grabbed…honestly, I don’t know what he grabbed, but he threw it at me and knocked me out. Next thing I remembered, I was in the backseat of the car. He took me home so my mom could look at me because she used to be a nurse. He didn’t even care that he’d hurt me. He said it was my fault because I threw the first punch. I probably had a concussion, but then I tried to leave and he wouldn’t let me. I told him that I was going to call the police and tell them that he’d assaulted me. That ticked him off and he got in my face. I think it was just a mixture of years of resentment, and everything that had happened with that stupid YouTube video, and I was going through the break-up with Jeremy, and I didn’t know it at the time, but I was sick. So I, um, I kicked him.”
“I hope it was in the balls,” Camry blurted out.
“Yep,” said Amelia. “But here’s the thing about Richard Clark, he doesn’t like to be kicked there. I paid for that mistake. He attacked me the same way he attacked you, Liv. I didn’t know what else to do, so I played dead. He got off me, and I was on the floor conscious, but my mom put her fingers on my neck and told him I was dead. She was so convincing that I questioned if I was. That’s when he freaked, he blamed her and blamed me, and then he was talking about how he couldn’t go to jail.”
Camry rolled her eyes.
As did I.
The man thought he killed his daughter and his first reaction was what was going to happen to him.
“What happened next?” I asked.
I could hear Amelia lick her lips. When she spoke, she did so somberly. “My dad went to the bakery to move my car, and my mom was in charge of disposing of me. He always made her do his dirty work, so that makes sense. After he left, she told me to run. So I did. I was hurt, but I didn’t have my phone or wallet or anything else on me. I went through the Vanderbilt’s backyard and hopped the wall over to The Santa Maria Way Apartments. I went straight to Carlos’ place. I knew that if Richard found me, he’d kill me before I could tell anyone what he’d done. And I couldn’t go to the police. Everyone loved Mr. CinnaMann, and everyone thought I was crazy. Richard doesn’t think rationally when he gets mad. Carlos hooked me up with a new identification and I took a bus to Arizona.”