by S. W. Lauden
“What do you know about my brother’s death?”
“Oh, sweetie. I was still in pigtails when he died.”
Greg knew for sure that he had brought something evil back to The Bay Cities. It happened years before he ever shot the kid with the blue hat. She was there all along, lurking in the background. Hiding in plain sight. A time bomb with a twenty-year fuse.
“And now you’re going to kill me.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m doing all of this for you. For us.”
“All of what?”
She tilted her eyes upward for a moment, getting frustrated with all of his silly questions. The barrel of the gun bounced up and down. Greg shifted his weight forward, ready to rush. Her eyes came down to meet his and he eased back onto his heels.
“I wanted you to kill Barrett so he could take the blame for all the murders. You got so close when you came up here that day. But then you chickened out. Don’t worry, I’ll forgive you one of these days.”
“Tell me what to do.”
“We just have to wait. It won’t be long now. Go ahead, take a look.”
She nodded toward the cliff’s edge. Greg walked over and peered down at the jagged outcropping several hundred feet below. He could see the tide beginning to swallow the rocks in a churning spray of icy water. It all became perfectly clear. Junior and Chris would soon drown to death in the underwater cave.
He knew they had less than fifteen minutes left. Quincy was still standing in the same spot when he stepped back toward her.
“Why?”
“Because that whore isn’t good enough for you. She’s got you wrapped around her finger so tight that you can’t even see it. All these leeches that you call your friends are sucking the life out of you, Greg. Little by little, day by day. I couldn’t let them get away with it any more.”
“Mikey too?”
“Mikey was a no-brainer, after what he did to your career. Once I moved out here and finally found you, when I saw what all of these bloodsuckers were doing to you…Well, it became pretty obvious what I had to do.”
“You killed him. It wasn’t a suicide.”
“He was a bad citizen. One of the worst, and he was only going to get more powerful. So I did what I had to do. It wasn’t hard once I figured out how lonely he was. He just wanted a woman who could dominate him. You men are all the same.”
“Except Mikey was a murderer.”
She squinted her eyes. Tried to make sense of what he’d just said.
“I’m disappointed, Officer Salem. I thought you would have figured out by now that I did all the killing.”
“But he must have helped you with the kidnapping.”
“Wrong again. Junior and Chris were my insurance policy. There he was, sitting on all of that property, going broke while he waited for those geezers to die. Crying himself to sleep at night over his failed marriage. That’s when I knew how weak he was. So I gave him an option—get me the money or his family dies.”
Greg could see she was enjoying herself. Showing him how she had manipulated everybody in his life. Normally, he would want to keep a kidnapper like her talking, but time was running out fast.
“I don’t understand. Who helped you bring Junior and Chris up here?”
“Same crew that took care of Ricky. Flew them in special just for those jobs. It was kind of perfect, though, the way it worked out.”
“He was my best friend, you crazy bitch.”
“Careful, Greg…you know the dirty talk turns me on. He wasn’t worthy of sharing the stage with you, so he got what he deserved. I know you don’t understand right now, but you will one day. When we’re far away from here and spending Mikey’s money.”
“Are the men who killed Ricky down there with Junior and Chris?”
“No, they’re long gone. It’s just you and me. Alone at last.”
Quincy was getting cocky as she watched her plans play out. That meant she was probably telling the truth about her accomplices. Greg knew he still had a chance to save his friends if it was just the two of them. At least he hoped so. He had to act fast.
“I can’t let them die.”
“That’s really sweet, but it’s probably too late.”
“If you truly want us to be together, you won’t shoot me.”
“Why aren’t you listening? I love you so much that I would rather kill you than let you keep hurting yourself. After that I would only be one bullet away from being with you forever.”
Forever never sounded so creepy.
“You know that’s a chance I’ll have to take.”
“I’ve already given you so many chances to figure it. Even today at Eddie’s, they were right outside in the trunk of my car the whole time. All you had to do was tell me that I was the only one for you. Run if you have to. I’ll be with you soon.”
“I love you too, Quincy. “
Greg took off at a sprint before he finished his sentence. He hoped that his final words had the stunning effect he was looking for. A strong wind was coming up from the ocean and gave him the sensation that he was running in place. He only needed a few more seconds to disappear into the darkness that swallowed the trail. There were many things he didn’t know about Quincy, but he guessed she couldn’t hit a moving target at night.
The first switchback in the trail was quickly approaching. A shot rang out and the dirt sprang up from the ground near his ankle. The turn was only a few feet ahead now, but he knew he couldn’t make it. The next two shots came in rapid succession just as Greg reached the scrubby edge of the cliff. His right foot caught a large round stone and the momentum flung him over the edge. His back arched and his arms flailed as he flew through the air.
He crashed into a large outcropping of rocks on the cliff’s face. The wind was knocked completely from his body. He couldn’t breathe or move for an excruciating minute. He lay there motionless, disoriented by the brief flight and sudden landing.
The wind was whipping around his ears and he could see the ocean churning below. There were no more shots, or anything that sounded like footsteps, so he started to claw his way back to the trail. His eyes were peeking through the scrub brush just above the edge of the cliff when the final shot rang out.
Greg looked up in time to see Quincy’s headless body falling to the ground. A fine mist of red was still swirling in the wind up above her. He was back up on the trail and running before her body came to a final rest on the ground.
His feet slid on the loose gravel and he almost tumbled over the edge. He stood back up and was running full tilt when he remembered the shortcuts that generations of surfers had carved out. It was dark and the paths were steep, but it could knock minutes off of his race to the bottom. He slowed down enough to look for the next entrance and took it. The strong wind coming up the cliffs offered just enough resistance to keep him from flying head first onto the rocky beach below.
The rising tide and sea spray coated the round rocks on the beach in a thin film of water. Greg tried to move quickly, but his feet kept slipping and his shins were paying the price. He was eventually reduced to crossing on all fours, scurrying like a crab across the uneven landscape. He reached the outer edge of the tidal pools just in time for a huge wave to come breaking across the outcropping of rocks. The force sent him skidding on his back for several yards, shredding his shirt and delivering several gashes to his back. He jumped up and retraced his path, keeping his eyes on the horizon to avoid being caught off guard again.
The entrance to the cave was between two vertical walls of slick rock. There was a narrow space of a couple feet that descended into a pool of rising water. It would have resembled a staircase when Quincy forced Junior and Chris down into the cave at low tide. Right at the moment it looked more like the shallow end of a brackish swimming pool. He kicked his shoes off and took a deep breath before he plunged into the
freezing water.
Greg was groping with his hands along the craggy walls, trying to find his way through the elbow-shaped passage. In the end he just gave up and started swimming toward the sound of Junior and Chris screaming. He nearly hit his head on the roof of the cave when he emerged moments later.
It was inky inside with only a few inches of air space left. The sound of waves crashing on the rocks overhead was like a thunderous round of applause as he clawed along toward them.
“Junior. Chris. Say something so I know where you are.”
“Greg! Over here!”
He found Chris first. The boy was flexing painfully as he grasped at the rope that connected his wrist to his mother’s. In between, the rope was looped several times through a steel piton wedged into the stone. Greg had nothing to cut it with so he went to work untying the many knots. Then he and Chris both unraveled the binds digging into Junior’s wrists. All three of them were practically kissing the roof of the cave, struggling to breathe, by the time she was free.
“We still have to swim out.”
“Take Chris. I’ll never make it.”
“Don’t say that. I came down here for both of you.”
He could hear her forcing back tears as she tried to summon the courage.
“Chris, listen to me. It’s straight across and then as far down as you can dive. You’ll find the opening. The passage is shorter than you think. Whatever you do, don’t stop swimming. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll be right behind you.”
Chris gave them a look that was equal parts brave young man and terrified boy.
“I love you, mom.”
“Go!”
They watched as he followed the curve of the roof, receding into the darkness a few inches away. Junior dug her face into Greg’s shoulder. The water was churning like the inside of a washing machine, and rising quickly. They would have to start from the middle of the cave.
“We take three deep breaths and dive. I’ll go first. You grab my ankle once we’re under. Don’t let go no matter what.”
She exhaled and tried to take her first stuttering breath. Greg pressed himself up against her body so that their noses were touching.
“We can do this. Together.”
He inhaled deeply three times without letting go of her. She followed his lead as he plunged under the water. She reached down, found his ankle and started kicking hard to the bottom. It was calm down under the ocean, weightless and silent.
Raging surf engulfed the tidal pools where they emerged. The sound of crashing waves gave way to the rotors of the police helicopter that circled overhead. They emerged and scurried up the jutting rocks, waving to the blinding spotlights that swirled all around them. She clung to his waist as the salty ocean spray stung their eyes, both of them gasping for precious air.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was almost noon when Greg woke up on Junior’s couch two days later. Chris was already sitting on the living room floor playing video games as though none of it had happened. Greg wasn’t surprised when he heard the pop of a baseball bat and the roar of a crowd instead of the usual gunshots.
Greg could smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen and guessed Eddie was already awake, too. He stretched and rolled onto his side with a yawn to prolong facing what was left of the day. He was on the verge of falling back asleep when Eddie plunked a coffee mug onto the table next to his head. Greg managed a croaky “Thanks,” but didn’t open his eyes all the way.
“Least I can do for a hero.”
“Does the hero get cream and sugar?”
“You name it.”
Greg considered asking for a little more time to sleep, but Eddie was ready to talk. He rolled onto his back and sat up to reach for his coffee. Eddie didn’t even wait for him to finish his first sip.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Sore. I think the past week has finally caught up with me.”
“I bet. I can’t imagine what you went through on those cliffs up there.”
Greg didn’t even know where to begin. So much of it felt like a dream. He wasn’t sure that he would ever be able to tell the whole story. Some things were better left to the wind.
“Junior awake?”
“I heard her rustling around in there a few minutes ago. I’m guessing she’ll show her face any minute now.”
Greg nodded his head to where Chris was sitting.
“What’s the prognosis with that one?”
“Good right now. Hard to say in the long run. It isn’t going to be easy.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
The words were automatic, but Greg immediately understood that they weren’t true. Losing his brother continued to cast a shadow over his own life, and probably would until the day he died himself. He didn’t have to dig too deep to understand that it was the reason he became a cop in the first place.
“At least he won’t have to go through it alone. Thanks to you.”
Greg wanted Eddie to stop with the accolades, but he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t feeling like much of a hero as he lay there thinking about how to make his escape—from Junior’s house, from his job, from his life. From the kid in the blue hat.
He swung his legs from the couch and let his feet settle into the carpet. The pain didn’t hit him until he was upright. By then he was committed. Electric jolts were shooting down his arms and legs, and his back was locking up in pockets all along his spine.
Eddie was watching him carefully, trying to keep his distance but poised on the edge of his chair. It was touch and go for a few long seconds but he eventually gritted his teeth and took the first few steps toward Junior’s bedroom. He was rounding the corner and starting down the hall when he heard Eddie scooting Chris out the front door.
Greg knocked lightly, waiting for a response before he let himself in. Junior was propped up on a pile of pillows with a stack of photo albums on the bed beside her. She had a small square album in her lap and was leafing through the pages slowly. Greg stepped into the room but stopped several feet short of the bed.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Much better than the night before. You?”
“I was unconscious until just a few minutes ago.”
“Well you don’t have to stand all the way over there. I won’t bite you, not after you saved my life.”
There it was. Eddie would probably be referring to Greg as a hero until the day he died. His daughter would only acknowledge it once and move on for good. Her comment helped him relax enough that he decided to join her on the bed.
She pushed a few of the albums out of his way when he finally arrived, but he still tried to keep his distance. Junior went back to flipping through the pages of the album in her lap. Greg could see that it held Chris’s baby pictures.
“Taking a trip down memory lane?”
“I guess so. It’s funny to think that Chris is going to grow up as part of a generation that will probably never bother with photo albums. All of their memories will just be digital files stored in a cloud somewhere. You know?”
“That sounds pretty good to me. Did I tell you about the boxes of pictures we found at Ricky’s apartment?”
“I know the pictures you’re talking about. He was obsessed with them. He used to spread them out all over his bed and kept talking about how he wanted to do something really special with them. I guess he never figured out what that was.”
The mental image of Ricky and Junior in bed together with pictures completely shut Greg’s brain down.
“You probably don’t want to hear this right now, but I never meant to hurt you. What happened between Ricky and me, it’s just…you and I were ancient history. I didn’t even know there was a possibility.”
“Neither of us knew. How could we?”
&nb
sp; “Everything’s really messed up right now, but it doesn’t mean it will be like that forever.”
A chill ran down his spine at the mention of the word “forever.”
“I wish I could say that was true. I’m just not sure. Right now I feel like I am ready to crawl out of my skin. Like I need to do something really important, but I don’t know if that means surfing or drinking or just getting into my car and driving away. Too much has changed and everything still feels the same.”
They both retreated into their own dark thoughts. Greg stayed flat on his back and listened to her turning the pages in her album. She finally set the last one down with a soft thud and then slid her legs down until she was stretched out right beside him.
“So what’s next for you then?”
“I guess I should probably head home.”
“And what about after that?”
“I honestly have no idea.”
“I can’t promise you I’ll be here when you get back.”
“I’m not asking you to wait.”
›
The plan started to come together the moment he climbed into the El Camino. He became more certain of exactly what he needed to do with every passing block on Bay Cities Boulevard.
He stopped at a hardware store and picked up some moving boxes, packing tape and a couple of padlocks on his way to the apartment. Marco was still in custody, which meant the place was empty. He got straight to work.
Greg was impressed by how few possessions he actually had. Almost everything he owned fit neatly into the back of the El Camino. He decided to leave the paddleboard and the futon for whoever rented the apartment after him.
His hiking backpack was stuffed with clothes and gear, but there was still enough room to fit some freeze-dried food above the all-weather sleeping bag. He put the gear in the passenger seat and strapped it in to keep it from sliding around on his way up the mountain. Mrs. McMillan was standing in the middle of the empty apartment when he came back in to make a final sweep.