by A D Holland
Redemption Rains
By
A D Holland
Redemption Rains
Copyright © 2012 by A D Holland
Copyright A D Holland 2012
Published at Smashwords
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or person, living or dead, is entirely a coincidence.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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CHAPTER ONE
Rain, that's all it had done for days now; rain. Elizabeth Windsor put on her too small raincoat that would not button and turned to her friend Louisa Anderson. Elizabeth had only worked with Louisa at the women’s shelter for a month, but they had bonded instantly. Although she was several years older than Elizabeth, Louisa did not treat her like a child. She listened to Elizabeth’s ideas and asked her opinion on matters concerning the shelter. Louisa had suffered both an abusive father and husband in life but was now blessed with the love a good man, Richard Anderson. He cherished Louisa and had taught her to trust again, providing her not only with financial security but even more importantly, emotional strength. That is why she had opened the shelter, to help other women see that there is love and happiness out there and that they didn’t have to stand for the abuse they received.
Elizabeth admired Louisa for standing up for what she believed in and not giving into those snooty, over privileged matriarchs who looked down their noses at what they referred to as an unfortunate situation when anyone mentioned Louisa and Richard’s marriage. Being CEO of his own oil and refinery company put Richard Anderson in a class of society that few people were allowed into. But that mattered little to him, Richard had not reached the top of the world by bowing down to anyone and he backed his wife 100% when it came to her wishes. Elizabeth thought it perfectly romantic the way Richard had saved Louisa one night on the side of the road. He had witnessed the abuse first hand that night as Louisa’s first husband welded his cruelty over her until Richard arrived and called the police. Without hesitating, he brought Louisa home and took care of her. Louisa insisted that it was months before she realized her feelings for him, but Richard states that it was love at first sight. Maybe that is why Elizabeth had grown so attached to Louisa; she gave her hope that there was someone out in the world who could love her too, no matter what she looked like.
"I promise to call you in a day or two," Elizabeth said. "I just can't seem to shake this cold and I don't feel productive if I spend all of my time sneezing on people.” Louisa smiled at her with warmth and concern.
"Don't worry honey. I can handle this place without you for a while. You need your rest and a little pampering. Go home, have a hot toddy and a warm bath and you'll be a new person."
Elizabeth quickly grabbed her friend and gave her a hug. For once she was grateful for the drops of rain, which splashed her cheeks and mingled with the tears there. She had felt the wave of emotions come on without warning and knew that she had to get out of there before she became a blubbering idiot. Splashing her way through the parking lot, she unlocked her car and climbed in. As Elizabeth pulled out of the lot and headed her car toward home, she concentrated on the traffic and the rain. It was just past seven in the evening and the glare from the headlights mixed with the rain splattered glass of her windshield made the drive nerve racking. A little over an hour later she exited the interstate and turned down the road that led to home.
Elizabeth thought that it was strange how she could refer to that apartment as a home when she had only lived there for a few short weeks. It was small compared to the grand ranch house she had lived in with her mother and stepfather. But the fact that it was Elizabeth’s alone made it feel more like home than the house she had lived in for the past twenty years. To be free from her family, to spread her wings without continuous verbal abuse from her mother was the most liberating feeling in the world for Elizabeth. It wasn't that she didn't love her mother. She just didn't like her. Marjorie Lindsey was not exactly the epitome of motherhood. But Elizabeth could not hold that against her. It was those little jibes and taunts her mother was always so quick to add to any of their conversations. Recently, when Elizabeth was speaking with her mother regarding the holiday season ahead, her mother did not miss her chance to drop an opinion on her.
"Lizzy?” Marjory loved to use the pet name knowing how it set Elizabeth on edge. “Why don't we try having a healthy holiday this year? It never hurts to cut back, and maybe you could find a husband someday if you lost a few of pounds." Elizabeth could hear the scorn in her mother's voice.
Marjory hated the fact that her daughter did not take after her side of the family. All of the Masterson women were small, petite red heads. Unfortunately, Elizabeth took after her father Charles Windsor. Her mother and father met in high school and two weeks before graduation they were married, seven months later, Elizabeth was born.
"It's not like we were in love, we HAD to get married."
This was her mother's explanation. When her father died a year later in an accident, her mother packed up and left town with her baby in tow. Less than two months later Marjory married again. This time it was love, or so she thought. Larry Ambry was a foreman for a construction company. Elizabeth remembered the times when he would come home from the site drunk and angry. Marjory always said that it was because he was not given the respect he was due at work. She later found out, after giving birth to Elizabeth's half-sister Alexis that he was just angry about everything and drinking only made it worse. He was not physically abusive to them; his was a verbal abuse applied daily. He would refer to Elizabeth as "Lizzy the cow" extending the nickname her mother gave her. Even now, Elizabeth had to battle with the hatred she felt for Larry Ambry. That was one reason why she was working with Louisa at the shelter.
Elizabeth had not been an ugly child. She had been a chubby child who had grown into a chubby adult. She had battled with a weight problem her whole life and had always lost. She did not inherit her mother's looks but her father's stature. Instead of the pretty auburn hair her mother and sister both sported with stylish cuts, Elizabeth had dull brown, naturally curly hair that was near too impossible to control. Her light blue eyes were nowhere near as vibrant as her mother's bright green or sister's ever-changing hazel ones. What Elizabeth didn't see when she looked in the mirror was the beauty that was there. Instead of the beautiful creamy, ivory complexion reflected in the mirror, Elizabeth saw a round, pale face. The full lips that and near perfect nose were over shadowed in her mind by the freckles sprinkled across her cheeks.
No, all she saw was an overweight woman who should always wear brown, black, or blue. Stick to your dark colors and you will not look so wide. This is not to say that she didn’t sometimes long to wear the pretty pastel prints that her sister Alexis could so easily don and parade around in. One of her greatest attributes was her intelligence and she was smart enough to know that she would never be able to stick a leg in any of those clothes.
Suddenly she heard a loud pop and the wheel of her small eco-friendly car jerked to the right. Elizabeth steered toward the shoulder of the road and rolled to a bumpy halt. The rain was still falling down in sheets and she sat there pondering the situation. Knowing full well that she had a blowout, Elizabeth still sent up a littl
e prayer that it was not bad. Digging out the flashlight that she kept in her glove box, Elizabeth climbed out of the car and headed around the hood to inspect the damage. The right front passenger tire was in shreds, which meant it would have to be changed.
Elizabeth knew that she was in trouble when she could not locate the jack to go along with the spare tire in her trunk. Looking around the area where she had pulled her car off the road, she realized that it was very isolated and dark. For one moment she panicked, but only for a moment. Elizabeth had always been very level headed as a child and this had only become more evident when she reached adulthood. Just a few feet down the road she spotted a beat up mailbox. In a moment she had made up her mind, took the only option she had and started down the dirt drive leading to the house that hopefully belonged to that mailbox. It was starting to clear out, with the clouds and thunder fading along with the rain.
Slowly she made her way down the dark drive concentrating on the millions of mud holes in her path, when she heard muffled voices. Looking up in the distance, Elizabeth shined her flashlight down the road. She could see the silhouettes of three men. Suddenly her heart lifted knowing that help had been found and she would be all right. With more purpose, she walked toward the group of men. They were standing in a semicircle next to a dark sedan. Elizabeth could just make out the faces of the two men facing her. Both were dressed in dark suits with white shirts and dark ties. They reminded her of Laurel and Hardy, one short and stubby with a hat on his head, one tall and thin with a bald spot that reflected the moon. The third member of the group was facing away from Elizabeth and therefore she was unable to see his face, but she could see that he was several inches shorter than either of the other men and was not dressed as well. He wore a t-shirt with blue jeans that were too short for him.
Because the three men seemed so engrossed in their conversation, they had not yet noticed Elizabeth walking toward them. Suddenly, the voices grew and the third man dropped to his knees in a pleading fashion. Elizabeth froze in her footsteps. The tall man was speaking to him with a grim look on his face. Just as Elizabeth drew close enough to make out what was being said, the short man raised his hand which held a gun and fired several shots at the man on his knees. Elizabeth could feel the scream in her throat freeze as the man's body slumped to the ground.
Her heart raced as her brain registered what she was witnessing. Willing her legs to move, she turned and headed back in the direction she had come. It felt as though she were crawling, her knees were jelly and her stomach chaotic. She had never run so hard in her life from anything. Elizabeth did not know if the men had seen her or heard her, all that mattered was getting away, getting away alive. As she drew near the end of the drive, she could just make out her car. Parked along beside it was a State Trooper vehicle with its yellow caution lights flashing. Elizabeth ran up to the state trooper, who was leaning over her windshield.
"You have to help me!" Elizabeth screamed at the officer.
"Lady, is this your car?" the officer asked.
Elizabeth's response was breathless and shaky with fright. "Yes . . . but first . . . you have to help the man . . . he's dead . . . he's dead."
The officer looked up from his ticket book once again, but this time with eyes that were alert. "Who is dead?"
"The man back there," Elizabeth cried.
The officer took her by the arm and slightly shook her, "lady, calm down and tell me who is dead?"
"The man back there," Elizabeth turned and pointed back down the dirt drive. "They shot him . . . you have to help," she said this last plea on a shaky whisper.
“Lady, just calm down and tell me where," Elizabeth turned once again and glanced over her shoulder, her face pale and eyes full of fright.
"Down that dirt drive,” a shiver ran through her as she turned back. “I was walking down there to the house to see if I could get some help with my tire when I came upon three men. Before I knew it, one was laying on the ground dead." Elizabeth sucked in air as if she had not breathed in years.
“Ok, lady, I’m going to have to go down that dirt road and check this out," he took Elizabeth by the arm and turned her toward his car.
“No! You can't leave me here! What if something happens?" She could taste the blood in her mouth, which came from her biting her lips. The metallic residue made her nauseous with fright. "Can't you just call for backup or something like that?"
“Lady, you'll be all right. I'll put you in my car and I'll only be gone a minute." Elizabeth showed resistance but the officer was able to open the back door on his patrol car and press her into the seat.
"You'll be perfectly safe," he said as he shut the door and headed back the way Elizabeth had come.
In a trance like state, she watched the officer fade into the dark. OK, don’t go crazy, girl. She thought to herself. You are perfectly safe in this vehicle and those goons are probably long gone by now. She restlessly rubbed her damp hands on her skirt. Looking down, she noticed for the first time that she had lost a shoe on her harrowing excursion. Her toe was pointing through the hole in her stocking, which ran up her leg and disappeared underneath her skirt.
Lights flashed into the window bringing her out of her preoccupation. Elizabeth looked out the passengers’ window in fear. She watched a black sedan drive toward the patrol car. She felt as if everything moved in slow motion as the huge car pulled along her side of the car; the tinted driver side window gliding open in one smooth motion to reveal the man who had shot the man now lying in the road dead. She looked him straight in the eye, and could not pull her vision away. Slowly, the man raised his hand and that is when Elizabeth knew that she was going to die. He was going to shoot her the same way he had killed the unknown man. Elizabeth felt the air rush out of her lungs and her body grow cold. Her mouth opened as if to scream, but no noise came out. She witnessed the man curve his hand and point at her as if he were firing a weapon but his hand was empty. You’re dead! The man mouthed.
CHAPTER 2
The noise was unbearable. There was no order in the place. The police station was crowded with every kind of criminal you could think of, and then some. Elizabeth looked around her, seeing the different people, but not seeing them. The fear that she had felt when that man looked at her and said those words was the worst thing she had ever experienced. She knew that she would never be able to close her eyes again without seeing that face. Black beady eyes in a face that was round as a grapefruit and as red as an apple. The promises that was reflected in those black eyes were one of death; cold, hard death with no mercy. So why was she sitting here, instead of dead? That is a question she had asked herself almost a thousand times since that window had slid closed on the nightmarish face.
She guessed she had Officer Kelly to thank for that. He had come back in time to witness the sedan pulling away from his patrol car. He was there when Elizabeth finally found her voice and started screaming. After that, it became a blur of flashing lights, rain, and endless questions from endless policemen.
“Mrs. Windsor?” Elizabeth jumped when the question was voiced. “Mrs. Windsor, I have a few questions for you and then we can let you go home.”
She looked into the face of the man who was finally handing her salvation. She would be able to leave this noisy, crowded room that smelled of alcohol and urine and go home to her quiet apartment.
“Yes, I’m Elizabeth Windsor,” she raised her large frame out of the too tiny chair. For a moment she was afraid she would get stuck, but with a little effort she was free and standing. The man held out his hand as if to help, but then backed away.
“I’m sorry we have made you wait here for so long, but we need to just double check everything. Now, let’s go over this thing one more time. You were on your way home when your tire blew. You didn’t have a jack so you decided to walk down a dark road to a house,” this was said in a voice that held a touch of disbelief and a truckload of cynicism. Elizabeth stepped back from the man with a look of consternation on he
r face.
“For your information officer, I am not stupid and I don’t want to be patronized. I am aware of the careless thing I did, but that does not make me a criminal and I will not be treated as one,” this last was said in her haughtiest voice. She raised her eyes to meet the man facing her. She had to tilt her head back to look into those steel blue eyes. She breathed and took another step back. Dark, short hair topped a high forehead, which led down to those blue eyes. Elizabeth held her breath for a moment, afraid to move.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Windsor,” he grated out. “It’s not officer, its Detective Kane and I am the one investigating this homicide,” the full lips tilted down in a frown, causing little dimples to appear. She knew that if he smiled those dimples would only grow. And the nose that was long and strait flared slightly, causing Elizabeth to suck in another breath of air. If she didn’t stop staring, she would deservedly be labeled an idiot and locked away with rest. Elizabeth closed her mouth and stood a little taller, trying to regain some composure.
“Now, Mrs. Windsor, if I could just get you to look over this information here and sign the bottom, I will be happy to leave you with the officer who will drive you home,” the detective pulled out the sheet from the file he was holding.
Elizabeth looked over the file that documented her plight that night. She suddenly felt very cold and tired and wanted to go home. Signing the bottom of the draft, she backed away and into the man standing behind her. Detective Kane reached and grabbed her arm to steady her. Shocks of electricity ran up her arm originating at the point where Detective Kane’s long, slim tanned fingers grasped her. Elizabeth looked into his eyes with shock as he let go of her with the reaction of someone being burned. For an instant, Elizabeth saw disdain flash into the detective’s eyes and then it was gone, leaving a dull, empty reflection in its place.