Gideon & Gage, Book One

by Hawthorne, Olivia

  Madeline looked the other way so often I swear she must have developed a permanent kink in her neck. She thrived in the society lifestyle our father offered her, so she wasn’t exactly the long suffering type.

  Holly, on the other hand, had despised our lifestyle from day one. We’d been raised with our mother down in Boston, but had spent holidays with dear old dad. Holly had always made a concerted effort to avoid us as much as possible when we were around.

  It was too bad, really. She was stunning and smart, and we might have actually had a lot in common had she ever given us a chance. We looked like big meathead frat boys, but we did have a soft side for family.

  “Well shit, I guess we’d better go see them on our way to Holly’s apartment,” I said and ran my fingers through my hair. My thumb caught on the spot I’d been shot earlier on my ear and I winced.

  “Want me to find you a hot nurse to tend your wound?” Gideon asked with a smirk.

  “Naw, I’ll find somebody to take care of it once we make it home,” I laughed and forced myself to ignore the throbbing pain. It took my mind off my knee, which acted up from time to time. An old football injury had left that the weak point in my entire body, and no matter how much I worked out or ate healthy, the throbbing came back from time to time.

  We went downstairs and hopped in our Hummer and headed to Madeline and dad’s place.

  Once there, I immediately regretted it.

  Madeline was a mess, a complete fucking disaster. She was crumpled on the velvet chaise in her sitting room, her bathrobe wrinkled and twisted around her legs, piles and piles of damp tissues scattered around her.

  Our father was sitting next to her, rubbing her back gently and speaking to her in a low, soothing tone. It surprised me, this display of tenderness from our father. Maybe he did really love her.

  “What the hell are you two thinking?” dad demanded and leapt to his feet the moment we walked in the room. “This is family we’re talking about. You don’t turn our private family affairs into a fucking three ring circus, goddammit!”

  “Holly made it public the minute she murdered her best friend,” I replied, looking down at Madeline for a reaction.

  She raised her tomato red, tear-streaked face to me and wailed, “My little girl did not kill Diana! Those two were best friends. They’ve known each other for years now. There’s no way she did it.”

  “Madeline, sometimes people snap,” Gideon said calmly, “From what we’ve been told, Holly has been acting really possessive and jealous of Diana lately. There’s some talk that she was in love with her.”

  “My Holly? In love with Diana?” Madeline barked, “You’ve got to be kidding me! Holly wasn’t in love with anyone. She’s a very serious girl hell bent on making something of her life. She doesn’t even take our money. Did you know that? She’s so self reliant, she does everything on her own.”

  “I know this is hard for you,” I said and contemplated sitting next to her, offering her comfort, but her sharp look kept me away. I was after information anyway. I wasn’t that worried about Madeline. I was quite certain she would bounce back and use this situation to her social advantage somehow.

  “You can’t possibly know how hard this is,” she spat and shot sparks in my direction.

  “Can you think of any family or friends she might be staying with?” Gideon asked.

  “I hardly think this is the time for your business,” dad replied in an icy tone.

  “It’s all right,” Madeline said with a heavy sigh, “I’d rather she was caught and brought in then think of my little girl out on the run, never knowing where she was or if she was safe.”

  “And that’s all we want to do,” I replied, taking the opportunity to appear concerned. “We want to bring her home and let the legal system handle the rest.”

  “Unfortunately, Diana was her only friend,“ Madeline said. “And her grandparents are all gone now.” She paused and I let her think, watching her face as she remembered something, “Oh, there is Anthony.”

  “Who’s Anthony?” I asked, “Is he her boyfriend?”

  Madeline laughed, “Oh lord no. He’s her dog walker and sitter. Whenever Holly is out of town, she’s always sure to give me his information so I can check up on little Bella.”

  “Bella?” Gideon said, “She has a dog? Do you know where the dog is now?”

  “No,” Madeline said, “I mean, I assumed she was at Holly’s apartment. But then again, I assumed my little girl would never get caught up in something like this.”

  Fresh tears started falling from her eyes, streaming down her face. Dad glared at us, motioned for us to get out, and sat down on the chaise with Madeline again. He calmed her immediately, talking to her and stroking her hair. I truly was surprised. I’d never seen him treat Madeline this well.

  “You’ve been a big help,” I said as we left, “I’ll call you the moment we find anything.”

  In the Hummer, Gideon laughed. “Well that went better than I thought.”

  “I think dad’s overwhelmed,” I replied. “He doesn’t know how to kick our asses or order us around because Madeline is so freaked out.”

  “That’s true,” he replied, his hands on the wheel, looking straight ahead. “I mean, I’ve never seen him so nice to a woman before. It was a little weird.”

  “Tell me about it, dude,” I laughed, “Maybe he’s into crying?”

  “Ew, bro,” Gideon wailed, “I don’t need to know what our old man is into. Now tell me if I make a left or a right up here at the next light.”

  I gave him directions and we finally found Holly’s building. It wasn’t great, it was in a mid rise housing block in a middle class part of the city. Still, she must have had it rent controlled or she’d never be able to afford to live on her own in New York.

  We didn’t have to worry about a doorman, she had none. We found the building manager and had him let us into her place.

  The first thing I noticed was that there was no dog. I saw nothing to indicate there was ever a dog here beyond some photos with Holly holding some little white fluffy thing. Anthony must have come by already and picked up Bella.

  Which led to the second thing I noticed: Everything was untouched. This meant Holly hadn’t had time to come home before fleeing the area, the murder had been unplanned, and she was on the run without any cash, clothing, or comforts from home.

  We’d tried tracing her cell phone earlier, and had come up with nothing. She probably had it off, or was out of range, but if she were still in New York she was probably holed up with a friend.

  And my best guess at this point was Anthony.

  It didn’t take long to find his card with his phone number and address.

  We found his apartment in no time, parked out front and rang his buzzer. He recognized us immediately and let us in. He was willing to cooperate fully once he realized we could have him arrested him for breaking and entering Holly’s apartment to get the dog.

  It was a low move, he was just a friend helping a friend, but we had to get him to talk.

  “I have no idea where she is,” he told us immediately, holding what I assumed was Holly’s dog close to his chest.

  “Hey, Bella,” I said and scratched under her chin, hoping she wouldn’t bite me. I’d never met the dog before, but I was hoping Anthony would think Holly was just part of our big loving family.

  Bella licked my hand and Anthony visibly relaxed.

  “She knows you,” he said and took a deep breath, “Okay, Holly took my car, but I have no idea where she would have driven to.”

  We milked as much information out of him as possible, promised not to pursue litigation, and told him he could keep the dog as long as Holly went to jail.

  We put out a description of Anthony’s car to our network, circumventing the police. We would have a better chance of one of our people spotting it so that we wouldn’t have to let some beat cop claim the fame and kiss the reward goodbye.

  “Well, shit,” Gideon said a
s we left Anthony’s place. I drove this time and we just cruised the streets talking about where she might be.

  This was our process, and every time we talked ourselves into the right direction. It was just a matter of time.

  “It’s too bad she doesn’t have any other family left, hey?” Gideon said at one point. We were stopped at a red light and some homeless guy was pushing a shopping cart across the crosswalk in front of us. He stopped halfway through, stared right into the Hummer and started to wave his hands.

  “The end is near! Prepare yourself!” he screamed, settled down and carried on.

  “Those prepper types, hey?” Gideon laughed.

  Wait a minute,” I said as it slowly dawned on me.

  “What?” he asked.

  A car honked behind me, the light had turned green as I had my moment of revelation.

  “When you said prepper types; her grandparents were live off the land country folk, remember?” I said slowly. “Where was their ranch? It’s still in the family, isn’t it? I remember dad bitching about having to pay taxes on some massive acreage in Texas that nobody ever used.”

  “Shit,” Gideon laughed, “You did it bro. I’ll bet she’s in Texas.”

  We headed back to our place and dug through everything we had on her. Some time later, Gideon found an old tax form for the place our father must have been bitching about.

  Address in hand, we boarded a private plane to get our girl.

  We’d bring her home, safe and sound, and move onto the next one.

  This was going to be the easiest job we’ve had in a while.

  Or so I thought.

  * * *

  “What a shit hole,” I said as we drove up the dusty road to the tiny town of Three Rivers, Texas. Population about twenty-three by the looks of things.

  “It’s got its charms,” Gideon said as an armadillo wobbled lazily off the road ahead. He swerved slightly to miss it.

  “The GPS is useless though. Half the time it’s just a wide featureless space. I don’t think the damn Dodge Store even registers,” I said and tapped the touch screen of the SUV we’d rented in San Antonio.

  We somehow managed to navigate the back roads, but it was dark by the time we reached the road the ranch was on.

  “Should we head back and come here in the morning? Get a hotel for the night?” Gideon asked as we turned onto the narrow dirt lane that appeared to be the long, winding driveway up to the house.

  “Did you see a hotel back in Three Rivers?” I asked, “Besides, it looks like there are fresh tracks. Somebody’s been here recently.”

  “It is a full moon, we could cut the lights once we get close,” Gideon said.

  We drove slow, crawling through the rich countryside. You could tell it had all been in production at one time, but had gone to seed. It was such a waste, to see beautiful land like this being ignored.

  I spotted lights up ahead and killed our headlights. We didn’t talk as we drove up, but we started to hear the steady thrum of music the closer we got.

  Shapes formed in the moonlight, several pick up trucks were parked haphazardly in front of the wide front porch, their high beams blazing in order to illuminate the house.

  “Let’s swing around back,” Gideon suggested. “We should figure out what’s going on here before we kick in doors and such.”

  We parked behind the house and compared it to the photos we had with the tax assessment. It was definitely Holly’s parents’ old place, the one that had gone to her mother when her grandparents had died.

  What the hell was going on though?

  “Who are all these people?” Gideon asked, his voice harsh with irritation. Gideon didn’t like it when things didn’t go according to plan. He was wearing the GoPro camera tonight, so he was essentially in charge of filming. Unexpected events didn’t always make for good TV.

  “I have no clue,” I said and motioned for him to park.

  We jumped out, made sure our guns were loaded and we were ready to go. I wasn’t sure if Holly was here, but I could be damned sure these kids didn’t belong. If we did nothing else, we’d make sure they didn’t come back.

  I stepped backwards, scoping out the best entrance for the element of surprise. Lucky for us, the party was in full swing and nobody had been outside when we drove up. I didn’t think a single one of them knew what was coming.

  As soon as we entered the barn, I bumped into an indeterminable shape that felt like canvas covering a car.

  “Bro,” I whispered, “Check this out.”

  He walked slowly to where I was standing and we each grabbed a corner and pulled.

  The tarp fell off without a sound, exposing a beat up red sedan that had seen better days.

  Gideon sucked air through his teeth and whistled.

  “It’s Anthony’s,” I said. “Holly’s here.”

  “Why is she partying with these kids?” Gideon asked, sounding a little more eager about going into the house with the cameras on. Finding a fugitive getting drunk with a bunch of locals just a few days after killing her best friend? Now that made for good TV.

  “No idea,” I replied, “but we’re gonna find out.”

  Gideon flipped the camera to record and we crouched down as we crept towards the house.

  We ended up going through the side door directly into the kitchen. We surprised a couple of teenage boys doing body shots off a college aged girl.

  “Nobody fucking move!” Gideon called out, his voice low and booming through the house.

  I chuckled as the kids squealed and booked it out of the room. Nobody ever listened when you told them not to move.

  We sped our own pace after that as the kids protested about the cops in the kitchen.

  By the time we found the main group in the front living room, they were ready for us. We shone our flashlights in front of us, making them blink and turn away as our powerful beams crossed over each kid, one by one.

  I didn’t see Holly among them.

  A greasy punk with broken front teeth reached over and turned off the music. The bass filled electronic crap cut off in mid thump, freeing up a lot of space in my head and instantly curing the headache that had been brewing there.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he demanded in a high, nasally whine.

  “We’re looking for Holly McAllister. We know she’s here, bring her out and nobody gets hurt,” I said in a deep, authoritative voice.

  It didn’t have the effect I’d been hoping for. Kids these days, I tell ya. No respect.

  A girl in the corner wearing a beat up cowboy hat and short shorts said, “Hey, wait. Aren’t you those guys from TV?”

  “Holly McAllister,” Gideon repeated, ignoring the kid’s question. “Tell us where she is.”

  “Shit, I think it is them,” the broken toothed redneck said, “Hey, can I have your autograph? Maybe you could sign your name right on my ass!”

  The group broke into laughter and I quickly assessed the situation. There were less than twenty of them, mostly drunk or high and not able to fight. There were eleven girls, which meant if it came down to it, they’d be easy to take out.

  The only two who I thought could cause trouble were the toothless, greasy punk because he seemed wiry and had something to prove…and the football player type meathead in the corner who hadn’t said anything. I was more worried about the meathead simply because he reminded me of Gideon and myself in high school, and back then, we just loved to fucking fight.

  I stepped towards the punk and repeated Holly’s name. When he replied with a snarky quip, I brought the butt of my gun up and smashed him in the nose.

  He yelped and stepped back. I glanced over and saw that Gideon had his eye on the meathead. Once again, our minds were working in unison.

  In the blink of an eye, everything happened at once.

  The meathead charged Gideon and the greaser came after me. The rest of the group scattered, laughing and crying out to not forget the booze or sound system, and for them to head
over to Old Man Wilson’s barn.

  I smashed the punk a couple more times in the face. Gideon gave the meathead a run for his money with a few sharp blows to the side of his head, and soon we were left alone.

  “They took off,” Gideon laughed, rubbing his knuckles, “What pussies. Back in the day you and me would have stuck it out until the end.”

  “Yeah, they just don’t make kids like they used to,” I smiled and stepped onto the front porch to watch the tail lights fade in the distance.

  “Do you think she left in the rush?” Gideon asked.

  “Only one way to find out,” I said and held my finger up to my lips.

  We began to search the house, starting with the main floor. It was surprising how many nooks and crannies there were in an old ranch house like this, and it was taking us longer than I liked.

  If she had taken off with the kids, I would like to know so we could catch up to them and find out what the hell was going on with Holly.

  We found the door to the basement under the staircase heading to the second floor.

  “Up or down?” I asked.

  “Up,” Gideon replied, “I hate basements.”

  “I know,” I said with a sideways grin. “Pussy.”

  We crept up the stairs, careful to test each one out before putting our whole weight on it. Each one creaked and groaned in protest at our footfall, so if there was a possibility that Holly was hiding on the second floor, she must have heard us coming.

  At the top we split up, Gideon heading left and me heading right.

  I decided to start with the back bedroom, stepped inside and noticed a single footprint on the dusty floor.

  A closet door at the back of the room called to me. I crossed the floor silently on the pads of my feet, careful not to drag my boots, and reached for the closet door.

  The handle stuck so I gave it a yank and opened it. I slid the beam of my flashlight along the floor, hitting the back wall and exposing what was inside.

  Chapter Five

  A bright beam of light blinded me instantly. I’d heard the fight downstairs and I knew who had won it. Those kids wouldn’t have stood a chance against Gideon and Gage. The twins were strong, smart, and damn good at their jobs.