Fractured Eden

by Steven Gossington

  “It looks like poison ivy or something similar.”

  “That’s what I wondered. I was at a bonfire a few nights ago, in the woods. I must’ve brushed against some poison ivy in the dark.”

  Aaron printed a prescription medication and handed it to her. “This should take care of it.”

  “Thanks.” She jumped down from the table.

  “So you went to a bonfire. Were you celebrating something?” Aaron said.

  She nodded. “I guess you could call it celebrating. We get together with friends a couple of times a year and stay out all night around a big bonfire. It’s kind of a tradition.”

  “Friends from high school?”

  “Yes. Most of us grew up together.”

  “It sounds like fun.”

  “It’s a lot of fun, and it’s the only time some of us girls get to see Buck Bogarty, the guy with the awesome hot rod.”

  Aaron smiled. “I know Mr. Bogarty.” He stroked his chin. “There is something about him.”

  “Oh, yeah. A lot of girls would like to land him, if he’d ever get a job and settle down.”

  “Some guys take a while to grow up, but most eventually do.”

  “The word is that Buck is still bitter about his father leaving a few years ago.”

  “Boys and girls can have a hard time emotionally if their fathers leave the family.”

  “Well, his father is gone for a reason. He was beating up Buck’s mother and she made him leave. I heard that he split and hooked up with another woman.” She sighed and looked down. “Buck hasn’t been the same since his father left.”

  That explains a lot, Aaron thought.

  They walked into the hall, and she turned to Aaron. “But we keep hoping he’ll get over it someday.”

  After his workday, Aaron ate a light meal of crab-stuffed mushrooms at a local diner and drove to the hospital. His fingers twitched as he walked into Cristal’s room. A nurse was at the bedside, tending to her IV line.

  “How is she?” Aaron said.

  “Her vitals are stable. No fever since this morning.”

  Aaron exhaled. “That’s good news.”

  “Her mother went to have a snack. She’ll be back soon.” She snapped off her gloves and left the room.

  Aaron examined Cristal. Her rash has faded.

  “Hi.” Marley walked into the room.

  Aaron straightened. “I think she’s doing better. Has she said anything to you?”

  “She just moans sometimes.”

  “You look exhausted.”

  “It’s been rough.” She laid her head on his shoulder.

  It’s a good fit, he thought as he put his arm around her waist.

  They stood together for several minutes.

  “I heard on the news that Forrester was shot,” Aaron said.

  “He’s recovering from surgery, in a room in this hospital.”

  Cristal stirred and then opened her eyes. “Mommy.”

  Marley jumped and bent down to hug Cristal. “My little angel. Oh, it’s so wonderful to hear your voice.”

  Aaron smiled and clapped his hands. “The crisis is over.” I did good. I got her here in time.

  “Where’s Genie?” Cristal said.

  Marley picked up the light green plush character from a nearby table. “Here he is.”

  Cristal smiled and hugged Genie. “Let’s go home. I want to see my daddy and Princess.”

  Marley looked at Aaron, then back at Cristal. She smoothed out Cristal’s hair. “We’ll all be home together soon.”

  “Just like Genie told me.”

  Aaron sighed as the figures of Marley and Cristal faded.

  “I think I’ll check on Forrester,” he said.

  “His room is two floors down. He’s sleeping most of the time.”

  “I won’t disturb him.”

  Aaron located Forrester’s room and pushed the door open a few inches. Forrester lay asleep on the hospital bed. Aaron stood in the doorway and watched him.

  After several minutes, he whispered at Forrester, “You probably don’t deserve it, but she forgives you. I hope you never forget that.”

  Chapter 26

  Valerie watched as her husband, Keller, gulped his last bite of rib eye steak, mashed potatoes, and lima beans for Monday dinner.

  “I’ve got to leave for a while,” Keller said. “There’s something I have to check out.”

  Valerie perked up. “Check out what? Where are you going?”

  “Now, don’t you worry about it. I’ll be back soon.” Keller walked out of the house to his car.

  Valerie flung her napkin down on the table. We’ll see about this.

  She locked up the house, hopped in her car, and followed him from a distance. After a few miles and several turns, Keller slowed and stopped on the road shoulder. Valerie parked on an intersecting street, out of Keller’s sight. She got out of her car and walked over to the road Keller was on. She saw him open his car door, step out, and walk up the road toward the Taggett’s house. After about one-quarter mile, he stopped and leaned against a tree facing the Taggett’s front yard.

  Valerie walked up the side of the road toward Keller. She kept to the tall pine trees for cover.

  What in the world is he up to? she thought. She crept closer to Keller, who stood still with his back to her. She heard a rustle near her, and as she turned, something struck the side of her head.

  Valerie Greevy woke up and opened her eyes. She had a pounding headache, and tape was stuck over her mouth. Her wrists and ankles were bound by tape—with her arms behind her—but she managed to sit up after several attempts. She heard a rattle and noticed a heavy chain wound tight around her slim waist and extending several feet to a tree, which stood at the edge of a clearing illuminated by faint moonlight. She spotted a small tent and a campfire pit with a few orange embers smoldering a few feet away from her. On the ground near the pit, she saw glints from an assortment of knives.

  Valerie tried to scream, but only a puny blubbering sound came from under the tape on her mouth. She scooted and struggled against the chain to no avail.

  What’s happening? Where am I? Tears streamed down her cheeks. Where’s Keller?

  After a long quiet period of time, she heard footsteps in the brush and a figure loomed from the tree shadows.

  Race Taggett?

  Valerie watched as he walked to the campfire pit, poured a liquid over the splintered wood, and then lit a match. A bright yellow fire blazed up. He picked up one of the knives, a large butcher knife, and held it to the flames. He turned and smiled at Valerie, then looked off into the distance. “You remind me of a girl from school,” he said. “She was mean to me.”

  Valerie shook her head, dug her heels into the ground, and tried to push her body away along the ground.

  Race gazed at the knife, the gleam from its red-hot surface reflecting on his face.

  ****

  From the cover of the tree shadows, Keller Greevy surveyed the Taggett’s property. He remembered Aaron’s earnest face when they’d talked about the Taggetts a week before.

  I wonder if Doc is onto something. Strange things are happening lately.

  At one point, he heard a noise behind him. He turned and listened but saw nothing and heard no strange sounds. It’s probably a stiff breeze in the trees.

  He yawned and checked his cell phone. I’ve been watching this house for more than an hour. There’s nothing suspicious here.

  Keller walked to his car, made a U-turn, and drove back in the direction of his house.

  What? He slowed to a stop at the first intersection. That looks like Valerie’s car. Is she visiting someone over here?

  After parking his car on the road shoulder, he walked up to the other vehicle and glanced around at the articles inside. It’s her car, all right.

  He studied the street and front lawns close to Valerie’s car and knocked on the doors of the two houses nearby. No one answered; the houses were dark. He called Valerie’s cell p
hone but got no response.

  “What the hell is going on?” he said, throwing his hands up.

  Keller walked in the direction of his previous stakeout. She must’ve followed me out here.

  “Valerie,” he shouted, quickening his pace to a jog along the edge of the trees beside the road.

  He skidded to a stop on the road shoulder as he spotted something on top of the grass. He crouched and picked up the object, which was pink and fuzzy.

  It looks like one of Valerie’s house shoes.

  Keller jammed the shoe into his pocket. Nausea gnawed at his stomach as he walked among the nearby trees.

  Something’s wrong.

  Discovering nothing else, he hurried on to the Taggett’s house. He could see no lights in the windows and heard no sounds from the house, so he changed directions and plunged into the trees behind the house.

  Wheezing and gasping, Keller weaved among the tall pines and stumbled through underbrush in the dim light from the moon. At times, tree trunks and underbrush scraped and jabbed his legs.

  After about fifty yards, he exploded into a small open space in the trees. Splotches of sweat covered his shirt. He stopped to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his forehead and eyes with a handkerchief. His heaving chest calmed as he peered around the area.

  I’ll be damned. A trail.

  He crouched and examined the dirt surface, finding several incomplete shoe prints. This trail has been used. He stood and glanced around him. But, who would use it? No one lives back in this part of the Big Thicket. At least, no one that I know of.

  Since he had approached the opening from the direction of the Taggett’s house, and since the neighborhood road was to his right, he turned and walked along the path away from the road. Keller’s wide body just fit between the trees along the sides of the trail. At times, he saw ruts in the dirt.

  After about ten minutes of walking, he stopped when he heard a noise ahead of him. He walked now with soft footsteps, and another clearing appeared past several trees in front of him. In the clearing, a campfire blazed in front of a tent. A man stood by the campfire sideways to Keller and pulled a knife out of the flames. Its blade was bright red.

  Race Taggett, Keller thought.

  Keller heard a muffled moan from the other side of the tent. He pulled his gun from its holster and rounded the tent. A woman was bending her knees and scooting away from Race along the ground.

  “Valerie,” Keller said.

  Race jerked upright and turned. He screamed and, in a lightning motion, flung the knife at Keller.

  Keller ducked and fired his pistol as the knife bounced off his neck. Race fell to the ground beside the fire.

  Keller’s neck stung like fire and he smelled burnt flesh. He put a hand on his neck and felt moisture in his palm.

  He hurried over to Valerie, then stood and studied Race’s limp body on the ground. He returned the pistol to its holster and eased the tape from Valerie’s mouth.

  “Oh, Keller, what a nightmare.”

  He crouched and held her to him as she sobbed into his chest.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, but I think he was about to.” She caught her breath. “He almost scared me to death.”

  Keller peeled the tape from her wrists and ankles and released the metal clasp from the chain around her waist.

  “I almost lost you,” Keller said. He stroked her hair. “Thank God you’re okay.”

  She looked up at him. “It’s not that easy to get rid of me.”

  Keller smiled. “Good.”

  He glanced over at Race’s body on the ground and saw no movement.

  “He’s sick. A real psycho,” Valerie said, shivering.

  “I know that now.”

  “Do you think he’s dead?”

  “Well, he’s not moving. I’ll check him out in a minute. Right now, I want to make sure you’re okay. Can you stand up?” Keller helped her to her feet, and the chain rattled to the ground.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said, sobbing on Keller’s shoulder as he held her close.

  After several minutes, she wiped her eyes and looked up at him. “How did you find me?”

  Keller looked off into the trees. “I just felt something wasn’t right around the Taggett’s house.” He pulled the house shoe from his pocket. “And I found this. I’m glad they don’t fit too tight.”

  Valerie smiled at him. “I guess you haven’t been following that woman around lately.”

  Keller shook his head. “I was acting like an idiot.” He touched her cheek. “You’re the only woman for me.”

  She hugged him and laid her head on his chest.

  Keller sighed. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Yes, you do. I love you.”

  “Sometimes I’m not a good person. There are some things I’ve done—”

  Valerie put her finger against his lips. “It’s all right. You’re everything I need.”

  Keller kissed her forehead. “I’ll be a better man for you.”

  “You already are.”

  Keller heard footsteps and looked up. “What …?”

  Race bounded away through the trees. Keller pulled out his handgun and jogged to the edge of the clearing. He stopped and listened.

  “I don’t hear anything. He’s already gone.”

  He walked back to Valerie and touched her shoulder. “You’re still shivering.”

  “I’ll be okay.” She took slow, deep breaths and felt the side of her head. “At least my headache is gone.”

  “He hit you in the head? Should I take you to a hospital?”

  Valerie shook her head. “No. I’ll go if anything gets worse. I think I’ll be fine. Besides, you know how hardheaded I am.”

  Keller chuckled. “Amen to that.” He embraced her, and then looked over to the clearing. “Race didn’t seem to be hurt. I must’ve just winged him.”

  “We’ve got to find him and put him away. He could hurt more people.”

  Keller nodded. “I’ll notify the sheriff. We’ll try to track him down. First, I want to get you out of here.”

  “Keep your gun ready. I’m sticking to you like glue.”

  “Let’s both stay alert for him. I’ve got plenty of bullets left.”

  “Why are you holding your neck?”

  “His knife bounced off me.”

  “Let’s get home so I can have a look at it.” She pulled on her pink house shoe.

  Keller grinned. “At least you’ll have one foot covered. We’ll stay on the dirt trails to protect your feet.”

  Chapter 27

  Brad Benningham woke up to a noise and glanced at his alarm clock. It was 1:50 a.m. early Tuesday morning.

  He crept to his bedroom door, peeked out, and saw Preston tiptoeing away down the hall. Brad threw on clothes and shoes and raced to the front door, in time to see Preston step into his car and start the engine. Brad’s figure filled the doorway, and his lips were taut across his mouth as he spoke, “Tonight, I cut off the head of the snake.”

  He closed the door, and after a few seconds, the garage door opened. Brad backed his truck out of the garage and sped away after Preston’s taillights.

  Preston’s car weaved down the road for several miles and screeched through a few turns, before it slowed near a dark alley in town. Preston pulled into the alley and stepped out of his car.

  Brad’s truck bounced to a stop behind Preston’s car, the truck’s headlights illuminating the alley. Brad spotted a figure standing against a wall in the shadows.

  Preston turned and his eyes widened. “Crap.”

  “What the hell?” the man in the shadows said. He pulled a handgun from a pocket.

  Brad leaped from his truck and then stopped in his tracks. Queasiness seized his stomach. This is the same alley I was in two years ago.

  He shook his head and ran toward Preston. “Get down, now,” Brad yelled.

  “What are you doing here?” Preston said, his hands clenc
hed.

  Brad fired three rounds from his handgun at the figure running away down the alley. From the shallow cover of a recessed doorway, the man began to shoot at anything that moved or stood upright. Brad crouched behind a trash bin.

  Preston screamed as blood sprayed from his left shoulder.

  “Get down, Preston,” Brad said.

  Another person ran out of the far side shadows of the alley, yelling and flailing his arms. He stopped and kneeled down in front of Preston, who was on his knees and moaning. As he put his hands on Preston’s shoulders, several bullets struck his back. His body arched twice and collapsed onto the pavement.

  “No,” Preston said. “No.”

  Brad walked past Preston and the supine figure, firing into the doorway ahead of him. A man fell out of the doorway, his handgun clattering away along the pavement. Brad crept up to him with his gun pointed. Detecting no movement, Brad kicked his side, rolled him over, and saw that he wasn’t breathing. He picked up the man’s gun.

  Brad jogged back toward Preston, who was wailing and rocking back and forth while holding the arm of a limp body on the ground. A moist hole had appeared in the shirt over Preston’s left shoulder.

  “You’ve been shot,” Brad said.

  Preston moaned and continued rocking.

  Brad looked at the face of the limp figure. “It’s Rocky Donnigan. The bastard got him.” He crouched down beside the body. “He’s not breathing. I’ll call the ambulance, but it may be too late.” He called 911 and started CPR with chest compressions.

  “That should’ve been me,” Preston said between sobs. “That should’ve been me.”

  An ambulance arrived, and the paramedics swept Rocky up onto a gurney. They continued CPR in the back of the ambulance.

  As he was bandaging Preston’s shoulder, one of the medical personnel turned to Brad. “I think he needs to be checked out at the hospital.”

  “Yes, I’ll take him,” Brad said.

  Just after the ambulance screamed away, a police car pulled up behind Brad’s truck.

  Brad held pressure with his hand over Preston’s bandaged shoulder. “What was Rocky even doing here? He liked his alcohol, but I didn’t think he used drugs any more,” he said.