by J. E. Neiman
"We'll get them if they come back into town. Best I can do, Pearl." The sheriff headed for the door.
"You don't understand. They raped and . . . ." My voice trailed off. I knew it was futile and headed toward the stairs. "I'll kill them myself," I said.
"Young lady, you best let the law take care of things." The sheriff put his tan cowboy hat on and rubbed his fingers around the rim. "Just be glad we heard your shots." He nodded, then left.
Levi came to where I stood. "Pearl, you need rest. I'm going to cleanup, then get some work finished at the office. When I come back tonight, I want you to tell me the truth about everything. After all, you'll soon be Mrs. Levi Morelli."
Lulu gasped. "What's we gonna do without our Pearl?"
I smiled at her, then grimaced with pain from the stitches. "Lulu, I've got a plan."
"And what's this plan gonna be, Missy." Lulu pointed at me with one hand and with the other nervously patted red-printed bandana tied over her kinky hair.
"I'll tell you later." I climbed the stairs, thinking how much I loved her. I sat at the kitchen table and focused on the lantern flickering in front of me. What would be the best thing for Lulu and Sonny? An image flashed into my mind of Jake circling the ridges around Georgetown. Another man rode behind him. I must have killed one of the bastards, I thought.
I went to the top of the stairs. "Lulu, bring me a Sharp's rifle from stock. And cartridges.” I would never be defenseless again.
Levi arrived just as we closed the store. I ran to him and took his hands in mine. "Come upstairs," I mumbled. "Lulu's made stew." Stiffness from my wounds made it difficult to speak.
"First, let me take a look at my handiwork." Levi lifted a tip of the bandage. "Bleeding's stopped. Need to watch for infection."
We climbed the stairs together. Levi treated me as if I were an invalid. I would have enjoyed the attention, but not under these circumstances.
Lulu fussed around the kitchen. She had placed mismatched soup bowls on the worn wooden table. Candles replaced the lantern and the ambient light created a cozy, calming scene. I sniffed in the wonderful aroma of cornbread baking in the oven. My stomach growled. Levi heard it and laughed.
Sonny brought up a pail of water and Lulu poured shots of whiskey into miniature Mason jars.
"We's happy tonight." Lulu lifted her glass. "Two good things. You's safe and you's engaged." We raised our drinks and toasted each other.
"Hear, hear," Sonny exclaimed.
Everyone laughed and clapped. Pain alerted me to hold my lips tight together, which caused the other three to chuckle even more.
After dinner, Lulu, Sonny and I cleaned up the kitchen.
Levi paced the floor, then sat down at the table and lit a cigar. "Okay," he said. "I'm ready for the truth, the whole truth."
I pointed toward my mouth and shook my head.
"Nope. I'm not going anywhere until I know everything." Levi stared at me as he made himself comfortable, waiting.
"Lulu, please tell him."
"Sonny you's go get a bucket of water for mornin'." She patted him on the back as he strode past her with his head hung low.
"I's don't know if I can," she said to me, but she settled her plump bottom in a chair across from Levi.
Lulu began with the saga of her and Sonny's dreadful past with Mac. Her face and tone reflected tremendous pain. It made me shudder even though I'd heard parts of it before. Then she recounted how Mac came to own Kate and Anna and how I'd stumbled into their camp late one night, covered with my family's blood.
Levi started to stand. "What?"
"Let me start at the beginning." I touched his shoulder. Levi sighed, but relaxed. I told him about my father's death in the fire in Oshkosh and how our clothing store, our livelihood, was destroyed. I blotted blood from my lip with a clean cloth and asked Lulu to finish my story.
She told how Jake, Eli and Red had killed my mother, grandma and two brothers near Fort Wicked. How I'd escaped after they had seen me near the South Platte River. Then she reiterated about me stumbling into their camp and how we traveled to Empire. She painted a grim picture of the tent city full of filth and uncivilized men. Lulu smiled when she related how she and Sonny hid me that night.
She paused, gazing at me. "Pearls, I can't."
"It's okay," I muttered. "Tell him."
Lulu continued, haltingly. She told how we'd all killed Mac. How we found the deed for the store and covered Mac's body with dirt and stones. She sobbed through the last part and I did too.
Throughout Lulu's narration, Levi barely moved. His cigar had gone out on the saucer before him. We stared at him, waiting for him to say something or dart down the stairs. A breeze from an open window blew out a candle. Seconds passed, maybe minutes.
"Okay," I lisped. "Go ahead. March out and never look back."
"That's right," Lulu said. "You's go right ahead."
Levi pushed his chair back and stood. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm flabbergasted. My God, look at what you have survived." He kissed the top of Lulu's bandana and gave her a hug. Reaching out to me, he whispered, "Come here, darling. You're stuck with me for life." He held me tight, then pulled away. "So none of you are related, except Lulu and Sonny?"
I glanced at Lulu. Tears again filled my eyes. "No, but Lulu will always be my auntie and Sonny my friend. Anna, God bless her soul, was a sister in my mind. Kate didn't want to belong."
Lulu stood up and came over to us. "We's family." She reached her arm out and created a three-way hug.
Sonny's cry from downstairs startled us. I grabbed the rifle standing in the corner and we hurried down the steps. His body lay sprawled across the threshold of the open, red door. Blood seeped through his ripped shirt. He lifted his head and stammered, "Ca . . . cat."
Chapter 51
Near Sedona, AZ
Jake parked at the Oak Creek Canyon Vista near Flagstaff, Arizona. A white banner flapping in the wind read, "Native American Art – 9 to 5.” For now, the vista was empty except for Jake and his vehicle.
He got out of the faded maroon 1999 Ford van and stretched his arms above him. Jake kicked at one of the tires and swore a secret linchpin held the jalopy together. The gas-guzzler had been sitting in front of a liquor store on Stout Street in Denver, unlocked and idling, when he exited the bar last night. Evidently, the owner wanted someone to steal it. He'd driven the vehicle ten miles above the speed limit throughout the night and into the early morning, twelve hours total. He passed through Colorado Springs, Pueblo, Trinidad and Santa Fe, then caught I-40 and taken it to Flagstaff.
One thing he'd learned growing up in the Midwest was major storm patterns. He'd been correct in predicting that the anvil thunderstorm clouds of yesterday would delay all flights, in and out of Denver International Airport. Now with any luck, he would be in Sedona before Allie and her entourage arrived.
Jake popped another "No-Doz" tablet and glanced at his notebook of phone numbers he’d pilfered from the Internet. He placed a call to the crippled twin's cell.
"Hi. Is this Madison Lewis?"
* * *
Detective Westcott had picked Maddie up at the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport and driven her to Sedona late last night. This morning she'd awakened to an empty house and the aroma of coffee. She poured herself a cup and maneuvered her electric wheelchair out onto the patio and down into the yard to witness the first rays of sunlight appearing over the red rocks.
Her phone rang. She spilled some of the hot java onto her lavender skirt while answering it. "Who's calling?"
"It's Agent Yesnat checking in. How ya doing?"
Maddie noted the 970 area code, Colorado, on the display.
"Are you with Allie?" she asked.
The man hesitated. "Uh . . . we're on our way. Are you enjoying the views?"
"Yes. May I speak to my sister?"
"She's on another call right now. Got to go."
Frowning, Maddie snapped her phone shut. Where had she heard that voice before? A
nd why hadn't Allie called instead? She needed to find Detective Westcott and see if he recognized Agent Yesnat's name and the caller's ID.
* * *
Jake laughed. He'd obtained the information he wanted. Allie was not in Sedona yet, but the gimpy sister was already at the so-called safe house.
He tossed the phone into the trash, reached into the van and grabbed another one from the passenger's seat. Jake dialed on the cell he'd stolen at the bar and grill in Denver. As it rang, he remembered tearing the ring out of the weirdo's lip the night before. The faggot didn't need this phone or his lip jewelry.
He listened through five rings before he heard a faint "hello."
"Hey Ma. It's Jacob." He visualized her squinting at the kitchen wall-phone in her flowery dress with an embroidered apron tied over it. She had a different one for every day of the week. Today's Friday . . . it would be light-blue, with puppies baking bread embroidered on it. He knew the outfits served more than one purpose. The first was to hide her plumpness and the second to make her appear busy in case someone stopped in to see the minister's widow. The staunch Christian work ethic dictated even his mother's attire.
"Who?"
Jake sighed, rubbing his nose. For some unknown reason he had wanted to hear her voice. "Your son. Jacob." Now he wished he hadn't called.
"Jacob? Where are you? You in jail?"
"No Ma. Not in jail." His voice quivered. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. You coming to Kansas?"
"I'll see you soon, Ma." Jake noticed his hands trembling. "I got some business to take care of first."
"Jacob, the police were here this week asking about you." She hesitated. "Mona told me not to talk to you anymore. She said you're nothing but trouble, but I stuck up for you. We got into a big fight. Mona said she wouldn't come see me anymore." She began to cry. "And . . . I can't see my grandkids either." She broke into sobs.
"Don't cry, Ma. It'll be okay." She didn't answer but he could hear her weeping. Goddamn Mona, he thought. I should have killed her when we were kids. Another job I need to finish. He pictured his sister ordering her six children around the shack they lived in. None of them, ages five to twelve, deserved to be with this female Hitler. Now she's punishing Ma by keeping the red-haired, freckled brats away.
Jake noticed movement around him. The Native Americans were arriving and setting up their booths. "Ma, gotta go. Being surrounded by Indians." He laughed aloud trying to calm her. "I'll give you a call in a few days."
"Indians?" She caught her breath and paused. "You're still the same, Jacob. A joker. I love you. Be careful and remember, 'That this is the day the Lord has made. Rejoice and be glad in it.'"
He shuffled dirt with his boots as she quoted the scripture then picked up a rock and threw it into the canyon below. "Bye, Ma." His eyes had filled with tears. He smeared the wetness away.
After using a public bathroom at the site, Jake noticed a pregnant woman struggling with a large box in the back of her pickup. "Hey, let me help you."
The woman wearing a long, black braid interwoven with red ribbon, appeared startled. "Oh thank you, but I can do it." She looked at the ground rather than at Jake.
"Come on, let me. I need to do a good deed today." He grinned, showing his dimples. Reaching around the woman, he grabbed the box. "Where to?"
She pointed toward a row of tables covered with white plastic. Jake followed her to an end booth. After placing the box on the counter, he smiled and sauntered toward the parking lot.
A hidden radio played Johnny Cash singing "Folsom Prison Blues." An eagle soaring over the canyon caught his attention. I'll do whatever it takes to be free as that bird. The psychic bitches really have to die.
Jake climbed back into the beat-up van and headed down the switchbacks on 89A to Sedona. Looking into the rearview mirror, he said, "And they think I'm stupid. Look who got here first."
* * *
Maddie drove her Jazzy over native grass and rocks, grateful for the large wheels on her chair. She'd decided to return to the safe house to find Westcott, but the brilliant colors of the crimson cliffs and the vast assortment of greens invited her to drive slowly. A soft breeze whistled up the canyon through cat's paw and mesquite bushes. She took a deep breath of the aromas of nature and heard the waters of Oak Creek rushing below.
One of her wheels hit something hard, causing the chair to jolt to a stop. Looking down she saw a concrete marker in her path, plus several more that created a semicircle near the base of a giant sycamore tree, leaning over the edge of the canyon. "It's a pet cemetery. Allie's going to love this," she whispered.
Maddie marveled how each oval plot was covered with tiny chunks of red rocks. Wooden and metal plates revealed pet's names, sentiments and dates. A panoply of images raced into her mind as Maddie read from the displays.
"Coco—The Quiet One, 1991," "Captain—My Buddy, 1993," "Bonnie & Clyde—two Magic Souls, 1994." The names brought images of loving pets and their owners. But when she read the last one, "Diablo—The Devil," a terrifying image flashed into Maddie's mind. A large animal with a black head and a tan torso stood before her snarling. The creature came toward her, backing her into a bottomless chasm.
Maddie placed her hands on each side of her temples and pressed them tight. She managed to stop the vision but her wheelchair lurched forward to the canyon's edge. Had she touched the controls? She grabbed at the off button on the armrest stopping the chair at the rim of the cliff. Two back tires hung onto the ground roots from the ancient tree. The front wheels dangled over a hundred-foot drop to the massive boulders below. Hanging precariously, she felt like a kite flying high, secured only by a worn-out string. Her cell phone fell crashing into the rocks. She didn't dare move.
Chapter 52
Near Sedona, AZ
As the sun rose over the Mogollon rim, Detective Rita Martinez maneuvered the black SUV along the twisting two-lane road to Sedona on Highway 179. She had picked up Allie and Dan at the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport just before dawn. Thunderstorms in the Denver area had delayed their flight arrival by six hours.
"Rita, I just tried to call Maddie. It won't go through." Allie clicked her phone shut. "Doesn't Verizon work up here?"
"Usually. We're probably between towers. But I spoke to Detective Westcott an hour ago and he said Maddie was fine. Don’t worry. We'll be there in fifteen minutes."
But Allie did worry about her sister and she was irritated that the authorities hadn't captured Jake Tansey in Denver. She thought it strange to have to hide from a psychopath in a secluded Arizona town.
She gazed out her window, doubting all the hype she had heard about the Sedona area. The scenery on both sides of the road resembled the desert views on I-17. Indigo mountains in the distance, tumbled rocks that resembled fallen ruins, sun-faded plastic flowers on death markers, sagebrush and cacti replayed itself like a broken videotape of an old western movie.
The SUV rounded a large curve and an enormous red rock came into view.
"My God, where did that come from," Dan said, rolling down his dark-tinted window.
Cool, fresh air poured into the SUV. Allie gasped at the view then whispered, "Amazing."
Rita, thirtyish, with sea-green eyes, pulled strands of tawny-brown hair from her face as the wind gusted into the car. "That's called Bell Rock," she said in her deep southern drawl.
A thin man in a safari outfit holding a camera and tripod, dashed across the road in front of them. Rita slammed on the brakes and sighed. "Crap, almost creamed that guy. It's a common occurrence here to have people take chances to gaze at the views, but usually not this early in the day."
Dan leaned forward and asked Rita, "How big of an area do these red rocks cover?"
"I think about twenty square miles." She paused and gazed at the winding road. Her drawl diminished as she spoke in a serious tone. "Detective Westcott with several FBI agents have been installing surveillance equipment at the site for over eight hours. It was a witness protection hous
e in the fifties."
Allie rolled her back seat window down to view the town of Sedona. To her left large cottonwoods and oaks stood tall in the early sun. Light streaking through the trees emphasized the variety of greens, from spruce to celadon. A stream of clear water rushed around rocks and over boulders below. On her right, a deep-purple motel caught her attention. Tall spheres of red rocks stood behind it. "This is gorgeous. It's difficult to believe a witness protection site's located here. It's so peaceful."
"That's exactly what the federal government wanted people to believe." Rita pointed to a hill to the west. "It's up there in the large grove of trees. You can't see the buildings from here."
Dan peered out Allie's window, touching her shoulder with his hand. "Usually safe houses are more secluded than that."
Allie felt the warmth of Dan's body heat. It made her realize how she'd missed his touch.
"It's not a safe house per se," Rita said, "It hasn't been used for that since the early seventies. Sheriff Zanita of Phoenix bought it a few years ago. Sits on two acres, one hundred feet above Oak Creek."
After crossing the Tlaquepaque Bridge, they followed a twisting street for a half-mile and exited on a dirt road, Elephant Rock Drive. As they parked in the long driveway, Allie studied the dark-red stucco and rock sided house surrounded with juniper and piñon trees. It appeared secretive and unapproachable. A chill went up her spine. A vision of Pearl reaching out to her filled her mind, but it vanished quickly. Pearl was warning her of something. But what?
Dressed in tight jeans and a black FBI tee shirt, Rita jumped out of the vehicle. Allie thought she resembled a wild feline.
“The house is old, but it's been modernized. Most of the surveillance equipment is set-up in the detached garage," Rita said.
A muscular, compact man stepped out of the building as if on cue. "Detective Westcott, this is Agent's Dan Foley and Allie Lewis."
Dan held Allie's door open as she stepped out of the high vehicle. Basic exchanges were made.
When Westcott reached to shake Allie's hand, he said, "My God, you look exactly the same as Maddie."