Rosemary Run Box Set

by Kelly Utt

  She rolled onto her side to look around and felt something heavy drop out of her hand. She squinted her eyes as she scanned the scene. She was in Saul’s living room. On his brown upholstered sofa. Her body ached, apparently from sleeping in a contorted position.

  Eve wanted to call out for Tim, but didn’t want to hurt Saul’s feelings. She thought she was supposed to be with Saul now, and she figured she shouldn’t mention any other man. She reiterated the thought that she had to give Saul what he wanted. She honestly didn’t believe she had any other choice.

  This made Eve sad. Overwhelmingly so. She tried her best to choke back the tears that threatened to spring from her eyes. Her feelings were a jumble. She hated when they got that way.

  Her head pounded again. Only this time, her mouth was dry and tasted like vomit. So dry that it felt like she’d been outside on a hot day without water. The taste of vomit wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as the dryness.

  Her skin was itchy, as if creepy crawlies had been all over it. She wanted to scratch, but couldn’t, for some reason. She wondered if bugs had been on her while she slept. Roaches, probably. Or bedbugs. Saul’s place didn’t look dirty enough to have roaches or bedbugs, but it wasn’t clean like Eve’s own home. Tim had made sure that things were kept clean and orderly there. Eve didn’t like bugs, but she felt too disconnected from the physical sensation of itchiness to do much about it. She mentally shelved that particular concern, telling herself she’d look for bug bites later.

  Eve’s attention shifted back to whatever it was that she dropped. Something about it alarmed her. She tried to reach over the edge of the sofa. But her limbs were numb and uncooperative. They seemed to be moving without her permission or control when they moved at all. This concerned her most of all. She’d been through a lot in her young life, but throughout it all, she had maintained use of her limbs.

  Panicked, Eve used all of her energy to thrust herself over the side of the sofa and onto the floor below. She had to see what she had dropped. It was all she could focus on. Maybe the object would help anchor her. Maybe she could figure out how to center herself. She felt very afraid of what might happen otherwise. Her anxiety was escalating with each passing second.

  Eve landed on the floor with a thud, and to her horror, found the now familiar object in front of her face. Her eyes struggled to focus. They crossed, then spread, working to function.

  It was a shiny, silver knife, lying in plain sight between Eve and the bottom of the sofa. She couldn’t be sure of its size, but it wasn’t small. It looked like a butcher knife of some sort. Big enough to do major damage against soft human flesh. On it, dull and dried, were swirly splotches of blood.

  Eve instantly knew this knife was the object she had been holding. She knew it, like she knew her own name. And she knew that the splotches were indeed blood. Not ketchup. Not wine. Blood. She had a memory that told her so. She forced it back.

  What have I done? Oh, my God. What have I done?!

  Eve screamed, but only vomit came out. It was forceful, her body trying to rid itself of the poison she had put in. She wretched and heaved, the acid burning her throat as it came up. Barf pooled around her head and piled up on the beige carpet. It was a ridiculous amount.

  Eve wondered where it had come from. It felt like it had come from someone else. Disconnected and foreign.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity in a battle with her own digestive tract and the abuse she had dealt it, Eve stopped vomiting long enough to assess her situation further.

  Her limbs still numb and unwieldy, she managed to roll away from the sofa with another few thrusts of her body.

  Away from the vomit. And away from the bloody knife.

  As she came to a stop, facing the other direction, Eve’s gaze landed on Saul. He was lying on the floor in front of her. His eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling. His skin was the strangest shades of purple and blue. Vomit was piled up next to his head as well, soaking his hair and the collar of his shirt.

  The scene was disgusting. Revolting. Assaulting to every single one of the senses.

  “Saul!” she cried, though she couldn’t be sure any sound was coming out at all. “Saul! Answer me, Saul. I beg you.”

  Eve resisted admitting what she already knew, wiping her eyes as tears poured.

  She thrashed her body around, slamming into Saul’s and begging him to wake up. She cried and pleaded. She prayed. He didn’t respond.

  Finally, Eve looked hard at his rigid face and accepted the reality of the situation.

  Saul Milton was dead and gone.

  15

  Never before had Eve been so distraught. And that was saying something.

  Traumas had piled up on her, thick and heavy. Like tar. Or maybe quicksand. The visual wasn’t as important as the hopelessness of it all. She didn’t know how she would ever get herself out and breathe freely again.

  As she stared as Saul’s dead body, Eve’s brain played cruel tricks on her. Her vision blurry, his facial features swirled around in her mind’s eye until she was seeing her beloved Tim instead. She saw Tim lifeless. Unresponsive. Unmoving. Dead and gone.

  “Tim!” she called. “Tim! Wake up, Tim. I need you. You can’t leave me like this.”

  She sobbed and heaved as she yelled, her voice rising higher and higher over the television.

  “Tim! I can’t go on without you. I don’t want to go on without you.”

  Eve closed her eyes, tears bursting through the cracks. Her limbs were still numb. She could hardly move. She was stuck there on the floor, beside what she now saw as Tim’s dead body.

  “This isn’t fair!” she yelled as loud as she could, eyes pressed shut. “I want out. I don’t want to be here!”

  She jerked her shoulders and kicked her head backwards as she yelled, flailing around wildly. She needed to do something to calm herself down, and quick.

  As Eve continued to press her eyelids together tightly, memories flooded her consciousness. She saw herself with Tim during some of their happiest times. She leaned into the happy memories, hoping they would help her escape her current reality.

  She saw the day she met Tim in vivid color. It had been a good day. One of her best.

  Eve had recently returned home after college graduation and was having lunch with her parents at Brick House Cafe in downtown Rosemary Run when she bumped into Tim… literally. She stood up out of a booth on her way to the restroom as he was following the hostess to his table. They collided in an almost comical fashion, like a scene from a romcom. Eve’s phone and purse went crashing to the floor, as did the satchel full of papers Tim was holding. They bent down to pick their things up at the same time, and their eyes met. The rest was history.

  Eve had felt good in those days. Her meds were working well for you. She felt… almost normal.

  As she remembered now, Eve let herself become immersed in the scene. She could see Tim’s face, his cheeks pink with embarrassment and his eyes alight with interest. He had seemed shy and reserved, but Eve knew immediately that he liked her. He looked like a young professor. That day, he had been wearing a tweed sport coat over a neatly pressed shirt that was accented by leather suspenders and a navy blue bowtie. He had a quirky charm Eve found appealing.

  Closing her eyes tighter, she could almost feel the warm May air from that day. The air had been easy and comfortable, with all the promise of summer. Eve could hear the gentle sway of the trees in the courtyard outside the cafe, windows open to let the breeze in. She could smell the food, the aroma of freshly baked bread and meats wafting throughout the dining room.

  She remembered the softness and warmth of Tim’s hand as he introduced himself and shook hers.

  Life had seemed positive then. Full of possibility. She’d had her parents to keep her grounded. And her therapist.

  Eve thought maybe she should call them now. One of them. But who?

  Forcing that idea out of her mind as quickly as it had entered, she moved on to whatever h
appy memory she could access.

  Think.

  Before long, the memory of the day Tim had asked Eve to marry him came into full view.

  The couple had been hiking on a crisp fall day, less than six months after they’d met and began dating. The leaves on the trees were brilliant oranges and yellows. Seeing the leaves up close and feeling them crunch underfoot were a special treat since the lower elevations in town didn’t get the same fall foliage. Tim had packed a picnic lunch complete with little sandwiches, wine, and cheese. It was the perfect wine country outing.

  As Eve was spreading out a plaid blanket on the side of the grassy hill, she had turned around to find Tim down on one knee, a diamond ring in his hand. The stone sparkled in the afternoon sunshine, lit up nearly as brightly as Tim’s smile. He beamed as he told Eve that he would give her his heart forever if she’d be his wife. He said he wanted to be with her for all the days of his life, to love and protect her. In sickness and in health. In good times and in bad. He said he’d hold her in his arms, right where she belonged.

  She had said yes. Enthusiastically, yes.

  If only Tim were here to hold and protect her now.

  The pain of missing him was too much.

  Eve opened her eyes, remembering the knife. If her hands would work to hold it, she could use the blade to end things.

  Without Tim, she didn’t want to go on. Her life had been a series of trials ever since her terrible disease had taken over her mind and body when she was a teenager. Eve had hurt and disappointed people and she didn’t want to do it any longer. She was certain that her parents and brothers would be better off without her. She was a smear on their honorable lives full of productivity and balance. She was a thorn in their sides. A burden. A problem. A freak.

  And besides, if Tim wasn’t on this Earth anymore, maybe she could go wherever he was. Maybe he would hold and protect her there. He loved her truly. She knew that. Maybe they weren’t meant to be apart, like he’d said in his vows on their wedding day, Eve dressed in flowing white as the summer breeze blew through her red hair. Maybe it was their destiny to live short lives. Maybe the best was yet to come in whatever was next.

  Eve blinked, willing her eyes to focus as she looked around for the knife.

  She knew how she’d use it. She wouldn’t fool with slicing her wrists like often depicted in horror movies. She wanted to be sure the job was done, and that she didn’t suffer long. She’d drive the blade deep into her throat.

  And then she’d lay back, waiting for Tim to come and take her into his arms.

  16

  Temperatures were falling when Margaret’s plane landed in Rosemary Run, just before midnight local time. Her flight had been delayed leaving Phoenix due to high winds from the approaching cold front, which was already disrupting air travel along the West Coast. She was glad to have made it before the snow.

  Margaret was exhausted. She wasn’t a young woman.

  She’d given birth to Tim when she was in her early forties, making her nearly a decade older than Wilder and Phoebe. Tim had been a late-in-life surprise. Margaret had thought she’d never have children, but Tim was a welcome addition. He was her one and only.

  Unfortunately, heartbreak had been in store for the Fischer family. Tim’s father died of an aggressive cancer when Tim was in elementary school. Margaret did her best as a single mother, but she and Tim struggled to connect ever since. Their relationship was friendly, but they didn’t have a lot in common.

  Margaret wished things could be different. She hoped there would still be time.

  Holden and his parents were waiting at the gate when Margaret stepped off the bridge. The Rosemary Run airport was small enough to allow for such conveniences. Their security protocols were more relaxed due to the small volume of passengers they served.

  Margaret stumbled on the uneven surface where the bridge connected to the terminal floor, her athletic shoes appearing too big for her feet. Not to mention, she was bogged down by several large bags and an unwieldy neck pillow. Holden rushed forward to assist.

  “Mrs. Fischer, let me help you with those,” he said.

  It took Margaret by surprise. Apparently, she hadn’t been expecting the Blackburns to be there.

  “Holden,” she said with a weary smile. “I didn’t know I’d be seeing you tonight. Thank you for coming. I thought you’d be home with Lorelei and the kids.”

  “You’re family,” he said as he took the bags out of her hands. “Mom and Dad are here too. We’ll drive you. And you’re welcome to stay with us if you like. Between the lot of us, we have several spare bedrooms.”

  “That’s very kind,” Margaret replied, moving to a row of chairs away from the flow of traffic. “And please, call me Margaret.”

  Wilder and Phoebe walked over to join them, smiling as much as they could under the circumstances.

  “Hello, Margaret,” Wilder said, reaching out to give her a hug. Phoebe followed her husband’s lead, making it a group hug.

  Suddenly choked up, Margaret was overwhelmed and speechless.

  “We’re glad you’re here,” Phoebe offered. “I’m just sorry… You know…”

  Margaret nodded, then pulled a bunched up tissue from her handbag and blotted at her eyes. “Thank you,” she managed. “It’s very nice of you folks to meet me here like this.”

  “I told her,” Holden inserted. “We’re family.”

  “That’s right,” Phoebe confirmed.

  Margaret smiled, her sadness mixed with appreciation.

  Holden looked at his parents, again willing to take the lead, but not wanting to overstep. Wilder winked in his son’s direction, giving him the okay to go ahead.

  “Do you need anything before we get into the car?” Holden asked Margaret. “Food? Something to drink?”

  Margaret shook her head. “Gosh, I couldn’t eat a thing if I wanted to.”

  “I know the feeling,” Phoebe agreed. “The detectives practically had to force food down our throats earlier. But I’m glad they did. I feel a lot stronger since I had something to eat.”

  “Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Holden asked. “How about a little protein? A packet of peanuts maybe?”

  Margaret seemed like she wanted to protest, but she knew they were right. She should eat. She’d need her strength. “Sure,” she said. “Thank you, Holden. Peanuts will do.”

  “Good,” he confirmed, taking Margaret’s hand and leading her to a chair. “Have a seat here and I’ll run to the shop around the corner. Is water okay to drink?”

  “Yes. Thank you. Truly.”

  “It’s no problem,” Holden confirmed. He turned to face his parents. “Mom? Dad? Can I get you anything?”

  “No,” they said in unison.

  “We’ll stay here with Margaret,” Phoebe added.

  As Holden left for the peanuts, Margaret plopped down in the chair. “This kind of thing is tough on old folks like me,” she said lightly, trying to ease the tense mood. But a light mood wasn’t right, and she couldn’t keep up the facade for even a minute. Her face fell, and she began to cry again.

  “We’re right there with you,” Wilder said. “Although we didn’t have to fly from Phoenix, of course. How was your flight?”

  “It was fine,” she replied. “I’m here in one piece, so that’s what matters…”

  As she said it, all three of them bristled. They wished Eve and Tim were there. In one piece.

  “I’m sorry,” Margaret offered. “I’m not sure what to say or do. Please, forgive me.”

  “No apology necessary,” Wilder said.

  “What should we do?” Margaret asked.

  Wilder and Phoebe glanced at each other. They had been debating this themselves. James had told them it was okay to search. They knew they needed rest, but they felt bad going home to bed when Eve and Tim were out there somewhere, possibly in serious danger.

  “What?” Margaret prompted. “Fill me in, please.”

  “We’re just�
��” Phoebe stammered. “We’re not sure what to do with ourselves. We’re bone tired already, but we feel guilty going to sleep.”

  “Ah,” Margaret said, taking off her eyeglasses and folding them up in one hand. “I don’t know the answer to that either. I don’t know where we’d start if we were going to stay up tonight. Maybe we should sleep awhile and then get going bright and early.”

  “Maybe,” Phoebe agreed.

  “Wait,” Margaret continued. “You have a resort to run. Do you have to go there in the morning?”

  “Goodness, no,” Phoebe replied. “We don’t care about anything but finding Tim and Eve. Business is just that. It’s not our top priority.”

  “Besides,” Wilder added. “We have a well-trained staff who can hold down the fort. They can handle most things. So…”

  Holden walked up with the peanuts and water for Margaret before Wilder could finish. “Who can handle what?” he asked.

  “The resort,” Wilder explained. “I was telling Margaret it isn’t important right now.”

  “Right,” Holden said, handing the haggard woman the snack.

  Margaret smiled her thanks, then ate the peanuts hungrily. She had needed them more than she realized. When she was finished, she balled the wrapper up and put it into a pocket on the outside of one of her bags.

  “Can I sleep at Tim’s house?” she blurted. “I mean… Tim and Eve’s? I… I guess I want to feel close to my son.”

  Margaret’s pointed remark made Phoebe tear up. She could only imagine what this situation would be like with a strained parent-child relationship. Phoebe had experienced difficulties with Eve from time to time. But for the most part, they were close. And they had a large family to lean on. Phoebe felt sorry for Margaret.

  “I think that will be okay,” Holden confirmed. “There’s an officer stationed outside. You’ll be safe there.”

  Wilder and Phoebe agreed.

  Margaret nodded, grateful. She looked determined now. “Good. Will you take me there?”

  “Right away,” Holden replied. “Do you have a checked bag that we need to pick up at baggage claim?”