Fiona Frost: Order of the Black Moon

by Dr. Bon Blossman

  Gerald shrugged away from the corner and marched towards me.

  “Well, I want revenge. I need payback. The best way to make your sad excuse for a father pay for what he’s done to me is to take his love away as he did mine. My wife didn’t wait for me while I was in jail. My kid’s with her who knows where. I’ll probably never see them again, and so he doesn’t deserve to see you anymore!” he shrieked, seeming to look past me with wild eyes as he pulled out a gun from the back of his pants, pointing it at my face.

  His expression was filled with murderous fury as his eyes bore into mine. He drew in closer, pointing the barrel at my forehead. The cold steel hit my skin and a blast of adrenaline coursed through my veins. My heart pulverized my chest; I could hear each forceful beat. My hands trembled; my lungs forgot how to work.

  “I could just go bam and end it alright now,” he taunted callously, my terror debilitating me as the hard, cool end of the gun pressed angrily against my skin. “But that would be too easy. My girls mourned my loss...just as your father will do,” he sneered as he slid the gun from my forehead to my temple, the barrel bearing down so hard it moved my head against my will.

  Squeezing my lids shut, I waited for the blast, my body shivering violently. My mouth drained of saliva, feeling like cardboard, rendering me unable to speak. I didn’t know what I could say to get out of this, my mind was scattered.

  I came to a realization I would die. Irrational thoughts danced around my brain. How would my parents feel when they discovered my body? Or would Janice be the first on scene? She wouldn’t be able to take it. When is the blast coming? Just do it, get it over with. I braced myself for death, grabbing the edges of the cushion. I was ready. With the gun shoved against my temple, I opened my eyes, frozen, looking upward through my eyelashes. Behind him, I saw blonde curls.

  Haley. She was with Gerald. She was in on it all along. She wants revenge too.

  Seething anger replaced my terror as a massive rage brewed inside of me; a second batch of adrenaline flooded my body. I was about to die at the hands of Haley Frost. How could I have been so stupid?

  A painful scream ripped from my lungs a second after a loud thud sounded in front of me—like a steel bat had struck a baseball. I gasped, realizing I wasn’t shot. Gerald had been hit in the skull and was stumbling backward like a newborn deer. Haley stood behind him; holding a frying pan, a shocked expression upon her face. As if possessed by a demon, his eyes rolled in the back of their sockets as he staggered to the ground, gun waving carelessly in the air.

  A gamut of swear words rang out as she dropped the frying pan, grabbed me by the wrist, and pulled me off the couch. As we sprinted towards the front door, another thud sounded, but this time, it was Haley—Gerald had hurled the pan from across the room.

  Two steps from the front door, I looked back as the lights shut off in her face. She released her grip on my wrist, crumbling to the floor like a discarded marionette. Blood seeped out of her skull onto her blonde curls, oozing onto the white tile of the foyer, making a dark crimson trail in the grout. I blinked my eyes forcefully to stay conscious as Gerald grabbed my shirt and jostled me back onto the couch in the living room, his merciless eyes filled with so much hatred, he looked deranged. He shoved me, and my leg slammed against the hard, wooden frame.

  “Please stop!” I moaned, reaching for my leg in agony.

  The pain quickly subsided as I became numb. I was going to die. My cousin, however badly I had despised her, was most likely dying a few feet away from me. It was a living nightmare, but this time, I wouldn’t wake from it.

  “Well, now you’ve lost one family member, how does it feel? I wanna know how you feel right now. Give me an idea of how much your daddy will suffer when he gets home, when he finds your brains blown out all over this pretty white sofa,” he hissed, jabbing the tip of his gun to my forehead, dropping it down to my chest, stabbing my sternum until it shoved my body onto the back cushion of the couch.

  “Hmm. Do we want exploded brains or a blown out heart? You choose,” he taunted as he flickered the gun between my chest and my forehead. “Huh, you have no preference? Okay, let’s do brains.”

  My front doorknob turned. Somebody was on the other side. Please don’t be my father. I took a long inhale, trying to stay focused on what was about to happen, anticipating a gun blast.

  With a loud slamming noise, as if somebody kicked the handle, the front door burst open, crashing against the wall. Gerald stormed towards the door, stepping over Haley’s body, to confront the uninvited guest.

  I clutched my chest where the barrel had gouged me, trying to rub out the pain.

  “Put down the gun, and you’ll get out of here alive. Keep it pointed at me, and I will make you regret your decision,” a familiar voice roared from the foyer.

  No! Wolfe, why? My throat seized, constricting, I gasped for air, but couldn’t breathe. Not one fiber in my body had dared to fight back until I heard his voice. I lunged off the couch, grabbing the frying pan from the floor as he took a swing at Wolfe’s head with his gun hand. He missed. Wolfe countered with a powerful shove on his chest, dropping his widened eyes to Haley; Gerald stumbled backward, tripping over her body as he fought to remain on his feet. He turned his head in my direction, catching me approaching with the frying pan. With a fuming fire in his eyes, he charged towards me in a rage.

  “No more delays, Fiona,” he warned with a savage fierceness, raising his gun as he marched closer. “Back away or I will shoot her right now,” he faced Wolfe, keeping the barrel aimed at me.

  “And then, I will kill you, nobody wins. Drop the gun,” Wolfe demanded, speeding towards him as if he wore a bullet-proof suit of armor.

  “On second thought, I will kill you both, but she is first,” Gerald scoffed, his enraged eyes flickering between us.

  The gun found my forehead once again but this time, I was prepared to fight. I launched the frying pan across the room and ducked as Wolfe’s bulky arm slid across Gerald’s neck, locking him in a steel grip from behind.

  “Run, Fiona! Get out of here!” he shouted as he pressed his arm harder onto his neck, grabbing his forearm to secure his position.

  Gerald’s face flushed red, turning a deeper shade with every second. He flailed the gun in an unwieldy manner, trying with all of his strength to fight off Wolfe with one hand and aim the gun at me with the other.

  A flame spewed from the end of the gun as an ear-splitting blast filled the room. A flat high-pitched tone resonated inside of my aching ear canals followed by a muted static and odor of burned gunpowder. As if somebody had turned down the volume of the room, dead silence filled my head. Afraid to look, I surveyed my body, passing inspection.

  Wolfe. I exhaled; he still had Gerald in a taut chokehold. He hadn’t taken the bullet.

  “Fiona! Get out of here now!” Wolfe shouted, but it sounded like his voice was much further in the distance.

  Frozen. I was unable to move, incapable to comply with his demands, the muted static returned, shrill buzzing in my ears. My eyes locked onto his hold on Gerald’s neck, taking sheer pleasure as I watched him suffer, his face turning a deeper purplish-blue as he struggled to breathe. I couldn’t look away. I might have even been smiling.

  Gerald dropped the gun to use both hands in an attempt to unhinge the massive arm constricting his neck. The capillaries began to burst in the whites of his eyes, and the purple hue of his face darkened to a dismal blue as he swung his leg backwards to kick at Wolfe. Gerald’s bloodshot eyes rolled back into their sockets, his body turning limp as a ragdoll. Wolfe dropped him coldly on the living room floor as a swarm of black suits flooded into the room.

  Within moments, a flurry of activity buzzed among us as the agents took over the scene, handcuffing and removing Gerald from the house. A crew of paramedics flocked to Haley, who had begun to moan and writhe in pain. I sighed, relief sweeping through my body. They stabilized her before rushing her outside on a gurney.

  After speakin
g with the agent in charge for what seemed like an eternity, Wolfe’s arms cradled my body from behind as he guided me down the hallway, escorting me into my bedroom. He locked the door behind him, placing me on the edge of my bed. He took a seat next to me, holding my waist with a gentle, iron grip.

  “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “Yes, of course, maybe a little freaked out, but I’ll be okay. Are you?” I said, examining his arms and noting various cuts and bruises Gerald had managed to confer during their struggle.

  “I couldn’t be better. Camber said she talked to you today at lunch,” he said in a serious tone.

  I was disoriented by the energy within his gray eyes, appearing vibrant silver as the sunrays bounced off them.

  “Yes, she corroborated your story, but I never asked her to do that,” I said bluntly.

  “I know what she said to you. I know that you know, and I want to explain. I can’t have you kicking me out of your club, because it means too much to me. Not just because of what we do, but if I couldn’t be with you—”

  “What are you saying?”

  I was mystified. He gazed into my eyes with a probing intensity, and I couldn’t tear myself away. I blinked, blushing; my mind purged its thoughts, blood feeling electric in my veins.

  “Fiona, I love you,” he said softly.

  My heart momentarily forgot how to function, I gasped for air, my face searching for the right expression.

  He continued, “I’ve always loved you. I just never knew how to tell you. I think you are the most beautiful girl in the world, you are definitely the smartest, most ambitious and maybe the nerdiest,” he flashed a smile.

  I was speechless; filtering through my responses, I tried to choose the right words, but failed—so my subconscious mind changed the subject.

  “Can I ask you something?” I said once I started breathing again.

  “Anything,” Wolfe said with the most incredible smile I had ever seen.

  “How did you know I was in trouble?”

  His eyes turned solemn as he gazed at the wall behind me for a moment. I realized he had expected a warmer reception to his honesty. He drew his lips into a straight line, nodding.

  “Haley was here when Gerald broke in—right before you arrived. She had skipped class—no surprise. She heard him come in, but first thought it might’ve been Janice home early from her appointment, so she hid in her closet. When you got here, she heard your voices, and that’s when she sent a text to Camber for help, and Camber sent a text to me, knowing I would come right over.”

  My phone vibrated with a text message. Lauren. I read it, rolling my eyes as I finished.

  I cracked that stupid riddle: 94 puppies, take 25 away, are you left with 8 or 1 female. 94 is the year 1994. 25 is the day of the month, and 8 is the month, August, and you are the one female. The riddle is deciphered to your birthday—8-25-94. It’s so stupid, by the way, but what do you expect from a prisoner? He sucks, but how does he know your birthday and why does he care? You should tell Det. Chase.

  “Oh gosh. Well, Lauren cracked the riddle about the puppies, by the way.”

  “What was it?” he prompted.

  “It was me. My gosh, it was that easy. So Gerald was telling us that I equaled revenge. Glad we saw that one coming—not! How did he know my birthday, anyway? Gross!”

  Wolfe smiled, giving me an awkward expression, grabbing my hands, cupping them. He rubbed my wrists with his thumbs.

  “What do you think about what I said, Fiona? I’m feeling left out in the cold, vulnerable. I have no idea if I’m fired from your club or if…I’m your boyfriend. But I know how you feel about me, you don’t even have to say it,” he said coyly with a grin.

  My eyes dropped to my floor. I was frustrated with a sick feeling in my stomach.

  “Wolfe, we can’t. Detective Chase said—”

  His face melted into sadness as he held a palm in the air to silence me.

  “I overstepped my boundaries. I am so sorry,” he dropped his head in a hand basket on his knees.

  I rubbed his shoulder—still at a loss for the right words to say, and how much to admit about the truth. I loved him too, but Detective Chase had warned me—I was afraid, petrified. I desperately wanted him to be more than a friend, but I wasn’t prepared to throw away my training program or disappoint the most important person for my future as a criminal investigator. Yet I needed him as a friend, as a best friend. I was awkward with words. Not knowing what to do, I leaned down and embraced his back.

  “We’ll be alright. You are one of my best friends, and that will never, ever change,” I said softly with an undisclosed regret.

  21 MCNAUGHTON RULE

  The next day was oddly foggy, a thick, cold mist hung low in the air, coating my exposed skin as I walked from the parking lot to the back of the school to the student entrance. It was great to be free, without federal surveillance. In the hallways as I saw the club members, I had to recount my Gerald Smith story each time, barely making it to each class.

  Other students who were typically catty to me found reasons to spark a conversation to get the details of what had happened. They were just nosy, but oh well, it was better than hearing the usual foul names they would shout at me. I was sure things would be back to normal within a few days and I’d once again be the nerd they loved to pick on.

  During calculus, it was awkward between me and Wolfe. It was uncomfortable because he had been honest about his feelings, yet I hadn’t been truthful about mine. The only thing that consoled me is he said he knew how I felt, and that I didn’t even have to say it. However, I don’t know what that meant for us.

  Maddie and I had fun discussing the case at lunch, but questions about the attack kept infiltrating back into conversation. I became mentally exhausted.

  With all the bustle about Gerald Smith, the day flew by. After the bell, I strolled across the lot to my car. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Detective Chase’s Impala rolling up to the front driveway, and I sprinted across the lawn to catch up with him on the front steps of the school.

  “Hey, Detective. What are you doing up here?” I panted; I wasn’t in the best of shape.

  “Hi, Fiona, I sent you a text. I’m up here to visit with Parker Thomas, III. Want to join me?”

  I glanced down at my phone to find a few text messages, feeling incompetent for missing them.

  “Sure. What is this about, his inheritance?”

  “Not really. His alibi didn’t check out for the night of the murder. I need to find out why he lied.”

  “Where did he say that he was?” I said, walking towards the enormous glass foyer of our school.

  “He reported he was at a School Science and Mathematics Association reception at the Grande Palace Hotel in Silver Springs. He wasn’t there,” he held open the heavy glass door for me, and we entered the foyer, walking on the speckled tiles towards the main hallway.

  I dabbed the mist from my face carefully with my jacket sleeve.

  “But the reception wouldn’t have been as late as the time of the murder, right? What does it matter what he did earlier that night?” I questioned, passing the main office.

  “He reported he stayed at the reception until after midnight,” he scanned his notes as we traversed the foyer. “He said he left the hotel around 2 AM, actually.”

  We headed towards Mr. Thomas’s classroom in the freshman wing. The hallways were already vacated, as the students never wasted time getting out of school for the day.

  “And that’s about a fifteen-minute drive, so he wouldn’t have been home until a quarter after two. What about his wife, did she go with him to the hotel?”

  “No, she did not. She did corroborate his initial alibi by stating Mr. Thomas left the house to attend this reception and that he didn’t get home until a quarter after two in the morning.”

  “So then, his story checks out?” I pondered.

  “No, we received the attendee list from the School Science and Mathe
matics Association this morning. He wasn’t registered for the event, and he definitely wasn’t on the attendee list,” he said, straightening his CB radio on his shoulder and searching above the doors for the room numbers.

  I pointed in the right direction we were to go and we walked in silence towards Mr. Thomas’s classroom. I nodded as we rounded the corner and we halted abruptly at room 117. Shouting could be heard from the other side of the door.

  I said that I was there, and I was there, Beth! Stop questioning me! Now, I have these detectives coming up to the school to ask me about this. I know you called them to get them to investigate where I was that night just because you don’t trust me. Get over it!

  Detective Chase put his ear to the door, his pen furious against his notepad. After silence ensued, he lightly knocked on the door, and a flustered Parker Thomas, III surfaced on the other side. I knew he was friends with my favorite biology teacher, Mr. Zuptus, so I didn’t want to think the worst of him.

  Mr. Thomas had a different style. His mousy hair was light and windswept, and he donned bow ties, usually red, with dorky, matching suspenders, He captured the essence of nerd in every way.

  “C’mon in, have a seat in any of the desks,” he said, openly ruffled as he propped himself on his desk, facing the empty classroom.

  “Thank you, Mr. Thomas. I won’t take much of your time. My name is Detective Chase, and this is Fiona Frost—”

  “I know all about the famous Fiona, Detective. Good day to you—and to you, Ms. Frost,” Mr. Thomas smirked, exposing his crooked teeth.

  I smiled at his acknowledgment, certain he had heard all about me from Mr. Zuptus.

  “I’ll get straight to the point. Where were you Wednesday, the 23rd, the night prior to the Jody James murder that occurred early Thursday morning?”

  “I have already made a statement, Detective. Why did you call me today and come here to the school to ask me again? Let’s get straight to it,” he said bluntly.