The River and the Roses (Veronica Barry Book 1)

by Sophia Martin

  “Jimmy Torero?” he said.

  Felsen’s throat moved as she swallowed.

  “Ask Detective Felsen when she last saw Jimmy,” Veronica said. “Or better yet, ask her what happened the last time she saw him.”

  “Lara?”

  “I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Felsen said, but her voice betrayed her in its unsteadiness.

  “Look, we don’t have time for this,” Melanie said. “Okay? We have to find Angie. You people can all go to hell.” She grabbed Veronica’s hand and held it close to her. “Now if you don’t mind, I want to find my baby girl.” Her voice broke. She grimaced and turned away for a moment, but when she looked back again she was glaring at the others.

  A cell phone went off. Everyone reached in their pockets or purses. Melanie produced a ringing phone. “Oh—it’s her!” she gasped and put the phone to her ear. “Baby!”

  Veronica couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but she could see Angie, in the car. It was moving fast. She was slumped, pretending to still be out. They passed a sign for Cameron Park.

  “Cameron Park,” Veronica murmured. “That’s on the way to Placerville.”

  “Angie, Angie, where are you? Can you tell me where you are?” Melanie said into the phone. Veronica could still see Angie in the car. She had her arms bunched up against her chest and she was holding the phone between her right ear and the door. A hand grabbed her shoulder. Angie jerked and another hand clawed at her. The car swerved and Angie fought the hands—Grant’s hands. He got the phone. He threw it out the driver side window.

  Melanie jerked her phone away from her ear and looked at the display. “We got cut off.”

  “They’re going to Placerville,” Veronica said. “I think he’s taking her back to the river.”

  “Why?” Melanie cried. “Why is he doing this?”

  “It’s possible he blames your daughter,” Daniel said.

  “For what?”

  “For when Angie saw him hurting the girl, and called for help,” Veronica said. She saw a realization dawn on Khalilah’s face. “That’s why he tried to hurt her in the first place.”

  “He can’t want to kill her for that?” Melanie said.

  “Kill her?” Khalilah echoed.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s what he was trying to do the first time he took her to river,” Veronica said.

  “Let’s go!” Melanie said. “Now, come on!” She started running up the hill to where her car was parked.

  Veronica turned to do the same when Felsen lunged for her. When Felsen’s fingers caught Veronica’s wrist, the world darkened.

  Chapter 26

  The black limbs of the trees and the flashing red and blue lights mingling with the orange glow of the streetlamps situated the vision in McKinley Park on the night of Sylvia’s murder. Veronica saw Sylvia’s blood-covered body on the ground.

  A few feet away Veronica saw herself sitting on the sidewalk curb with Daniel looming over her.

  “I need a sick bag!” he called. But whose eyes was she seeing through now? She wore a skirt and latex gloves. Veronica concentrated on her host’s thoughts.

  That blackmailing piece of shit—he’d regret he ever threatened Jimmy now.

  Felsen?

  Was this Felsen’s memory?

  Felsen couldn’t believe her luck. A murder in the same park where Evander Collins lived. Ever since the night before, when Jimmy shot Isaac, and then Evander showed up at the station, she’d tried to come up with some way out of this mess.

  Her heart began to race as she scanned the uniformed officers setting up the crime scene tape. No one looked toward her at that moment, and with a gloved hand she scooped up the purse that Sylvia had dropped a few feet away—it was just a clutch, small enough to stuff into the larger bag she carried. The beating of her heart changed from merely fast to pounding. If she did this, she had to be quick. Another glance around satisfied her that none of the officers watched. She leaned over the body and yanked off the gold chain from Sylvia’s neck, noting with satisfaction that it had blood in its links.

  As she strode away from the scene into the unlit middle of the park, Veronica struggled with the vision. The idea that she had become Felsen made her want to wake up, but she pushed the need down. She had to see what Felsen did.

  Peering into the darkness, Felsen paused and then doubled her speed, breaking into a jog. She came to halt and Veronica saw her destination—the lean-to constructed of collapsed cardboard boxes and trash bags built against the side of the small brick restroom building at the center of the park. A realization struck Veronica: that had been Evander’s meaning when he made the leaning gesture with his hands in that mysterious conversation with Felsen at the police station.

  A security light illuminated the area in front of the building, but the side was still cloaked in shadows.

  With quick movements Felsen pulled the clutch out and opened it, dropping small items into the grass leading up to the camp. She found a wallet and pried out credit cards and a few bills of cash. She came to a stop by the lean-to and then kicked the cardboard over, rousing the man sleeping under it.

  “Hey—” he grumbled, rolling to a seated position. Felsen threw the money, cards, and gold necklace at him. She watched in satisfaction as he pawed the papers and cards in bewilderment, then grabbed the chain and held it up to look at it. With her left hand Felsen put her phone to her ear.

  “I need officers, center of the park, ASAP,” she said, drawing her gun with her right hand. “Sac PD, freeze.”

  ~~~

  Felsen’s fingers dug into Veronica’s wrist. As she tried to pull her wrist free, she met Felsen’s hazel eyes.

  “You framed Evander Collins,” Veronica said. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Khalilah standing a few feet behind her.

  “No one will believe you,” Felsen growled.

  “Let me go,” Veronica said. “I have to get to Angie.”

  “Just keep your mouth shut!”

  “You let the person who really killed Sylvia go free, and now he’s got Angie!”

  Felsen shoved Veronica against the wall of the Seven Eleven, winding her. The world spun as Felsen yanked her around and pinned her arms behind her.

  Veronica kicked back as hard as she could. She felt her heel connect with Felsen’s shin, and the woman yelped. Her hold on Veronica’s wrists tightened, however, and she brought one of Veronica’s arms up higher against her back. Veronica whimpered in pain.

  “I warned you!” Felsen said. “You are under arrest for fraud in connection with the Bedragar case—”

  “You’re crazy!” Veronica gasped. “It’s over! I’m going to tell everyone what you did!”

  “Nobody will believe you.”

  “I might,” said Khalilah.

  Veronica felt Felsen’s grip loosen, and she yanked free. While Felsen was off balance, Veronica snatched a lid off one of the trash cans and hurled it at Felsen.

  Melanie’s Outback pulled up at the curb. Veronica charged Felsen, shoving her as hard as she could. Felsen lost her footing and fell. Veronica ran past her.

  “Get in!” Melanie cried.

  ~~~

  Veronica rode in the car with Melanie. It was like Valentine’s all over again, except it wasn’t quite as dark. Night was falling. But last time it had been pitch black out.

  Melanie knew where she was going, to a point. She drove so fast Daniel, who was following in his car, called for reinforcements, because soon they had two black and white SPD cars with sirens and lights escorting them. Veronica hunched down in her seat, hoping both that she was right about where Grant and Angie were headed now that the SPD were officially involved, and that she was wrong, because it meant that if they didn’t make it in time, Angie might not survive.

  When they came to the first light in Placerville, where the freeway slowed, Melanie glanced at Veronica.

  “Not this one,” Veronica said. “The next one.”

  They t
urned on Spring Street, which was also highway 49. They followed it until the turn for highway 193. After that the road became very windy, just as Veronica remembered it. The twists and turns seemed almost unnecessary at first—some civil engineer’s idea of fun, but soon they were winding along the side of an increasingly steep hill. She started to feel sick. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to settle her stomach. It didn’t help. She opened her eyes. The light was failing, but she could see more than she had the first time they’d come along this road. There was a pretty nasty drop off the right side. It made Veronica’s head spin a little, and she gripped the handle over the glove box. Melanie was going so fast. She could almost see it. She could see them heading over the edge. The emptiness they would hit for a moment, then the fall. The crashing. The trees.

  Where was the sign? Her eyes scanned the shoulder ahead for the sign for Marshall State Park. She couldn’t stand it. She kept seeing them go over the edge. She could hardly breathe. She felt so sick. “Stop the car.”

  Melanie didn’t seem to hear her.

  Squeezing her eyes shut she tried to stop thinking about going off the edge. But she could feel it. The slight lift, as if they would go up instead of down. The loss of the vibrations from the road. Then the lurch as gravity took hold. The crunching of metal, the squealing as it tore. She could hear it.

  “Stop the car,” she said, her voice rising. She opened her eyes. Melanie glanced over at her, but did not slow down. “Please, Mellie. Stop the car.”

  Melanie’s face was very pale and her lips shut in a tight line. She looked from Veronica to the road. Veronica didn’t think she would listen, but then, in an abrupt gesture, she turned the wheel and slammed on the breaks.

  No guard rail ran along the road, so Veronica might not have seen it. It was getting so dark. But when she swung the door open and stumbled out, going to her knees, certain she was about to throw up, she glimpsed over the edge of the side of the hill for a moment. Laying on its side, looking badly crumpled, was a blue car. She forgot about being sick and peered over edge again. It was hard to be sure in the dark, but she was nearly certain. Yes. Turquoise blue.

  “Why did we stop?” Melanie demanded. “So you could be sick?” She didn’t sound at all sympathetic, not that Veronica blamed her. The river roared, not far away. Behind them Daniel’s car and the two patrol cars stopped as well.

  “They went over the edge,” Veronica said. She pointed.

  Melanie rushed over to stand next to where Veronica knelt. She looked over the edge and saw the car. “Angela!” she screamed, and started scrambling down the side of the drop.

  “Melanie, it’s too dangerous!” Veronica said, but there was no stopping her. Melanie seemed to move with preternatural grace. And she was making good time. Veronica watched her, aware that people were getting out of the other cars.

  “Sir, this is out of our jurisdiction,” one of the uniformed officer was saying.

  “Consider this a personal favor to me,” Daniel responded, starting to jog over. “One I will owe each of you.”

  Veronica looked back down the incline. Melanie was only a few feet from the car. Veronica knew those policemen and Daniel would never allow her to follow. If she was going to be there for Melanie she had to move now. But it was so steep. She hated heights.

  She looked back at Daniel—he was only a few steps away. “Veronica, what happened?”

  She stared down the incline. Whimpering, she turned around and started backing down it.

  “Veronica, what are you doing!” Daniel exclaimed, lengthening his stride.

  Veronica grasped roots and felt with her feet for sturdy spots as she made her way down. “Melanie!” she called. “I’m coming!”

  “Veronica, wait!” Daniel shouted. She looked up and could barely see him looking over the edge in the deepening darkness. Then he lit a flashlight. She flinched and blinked her eyes.

  “It’s okay!” she called. “I have to help Melanie!”

  “Veronica!” Melanie called. “They aren’t in here!”

  Veronica jerked to look down and her foot slipped. The root she was holding gave way. She started to tumble. Branches ripped at her sleeves. She could hear Daniel and Melanie calling her name. But she kept falling. She felt things tear at the skin of her face. Her fingers grasped for something—anything to stop her descent—but the things she grasped came away in her hands. She caught a glimpse of the car as she fell past it. A terrible pain exploded in her left arm and she tried to clutch it, tried to protect it from further harm. But she felt something hit it again and the pain was like a bright light that washed everything else away.

  ~~~

  She could see her angel. Beautiful, glowing with light, her peaceful, familiar face loving and comforting. She didn’t have wings, just an immense aura of light all around her. She was standing—hovering? Veronica couldn’t see her legs clearly—just a few feet away.

  Am I dying? Veronica wondered. And for once in her life the thought didn’t frighten her, because it would be fine to go into her angel’s arms. She could feel her warmth and love. She felt so safe.

  Then the angel faded and disappeared, taking her light with her. The night was black. Veronica might as well be blind. Fear gripped her with icy fingers, and the peace she’d felt just a moment before disappeared. She couldn’t remember it. Was she going to die out here? The pain in her left arm returned to her and she yelped. She used her right hand to bring her arm up against her body, crying out again. If she could just hold it there, it wasn’t so bad, she told herself. It throbbed. She could feel how swollen it was. “Help!” she screamed, but the effort jerked her arm and pain exploded from it. She saw stars and then nothing for a while.

  Where was she?

  Opening her eyes again, she tried to see her surroundings. In the distance, she barely heard a voice call her name—the sound of the river was closer. She thought about calling back, but the pain still made her head swim.

  Better to assess her situation, she decided. She was lying down, but strangely, she felt like she was almost upright. Lying against the side of the incline, then. Well, it was a blessing, because it would make getting to her feet a bit easier.

  Except maybe she should stay where she was. Wasn’t that the wisdom when a person got separated from a group?

  Her eyes finally adjusted a bit. She could make out the shapes of trees, and further off, it seemed like there might be more light. Fewer trees, maybe, so moonlight could get through. She could hear the river.

  Here in the darkness enhanced by the trees’ canopy, she might be harder to find. If she moved to where the trees cleared, it might be easier for them.

  She lay still for a while longer, listening. She heard another call. She didn’t want to get up. It was going to hurt, a lot. They had to be fairly close. Why hadn’t they just gone down the hill to follow her? Was it impassable? She arched her neck to look above her, which sent shooting pain through her arm. Tears came to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away. She had to keep holding her arm, trying to keep it still. Between the tears and the darkness she couldn’t see anything.

  “Okay,” she whispered. No one would spot her lying among the vines and undergrowth in this darkness. Not until daylight, anyway, and though she wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious, she figured it couldn’t nearly be midnight yet—they’d reached Placerville at six o’clock. She couldn’t just lie here for ten hours or more waiting for light so someone could find her.

  “Okay,” she repeated. She held her arm firmly, which hurt, but not as much as bringing herself to a sitting position hurt. She sobbed and tried to ease her breath. She clenched her teeth so tight she was afraid they’d shatter.

  So stupid, she thought. We rushed here to rescue Angie, and I went and injured myself.

  The pain lessened, not a lot, but enough to be able to loosen her jaw. She sat up. With the angle of the slope as steep as it was, it would just take shifting her weight a b
it, and a small push, to get herself to standing. She had to be careful, though. If she pitched too far forward she’d fall on her arm. And she doubted she’d be able to get up again after that.

  She tried to see what the ground looked like ahead of her. A lot of leaves covered low plants, probably plenty of vines. Once she stood up she’d have to be careful about not tripping, as well. If she fell, she’d have to try to twist, so she wouldn’t smash her arm.

  She swallowed and then took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “Just a small push.” Could she release her arm to use her good hand to propel her? If only there was some way to tie her arm against her.

  Her belt.

  She let her arm go gently so her forearm rested in her lap. She sobbed with the pain of even such a soft motion, and the movement of sobbing exacerbated it.

  Breathe, she told herself. She inhaled, exhaled, and repeated this until the pain subsided again.

  With her right hand she unbuckled her belt and pulled it out of the loops of her pants. She threw half of it over her shoulder and felt behind her to catch hold of it, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached. After a short break to breathe in and out a few times, she buckled the belt again and eased her arm through it. It hurt, but it was better than letting her arm hang.

  “Okay,” she said. Another deep breath, and she pushed herself up. The pain didn’t threaten to overwhelm her now… her arm was going numb. Was that bad? Well, nothing she could do about it. She just had to get to where there was more light.

  She stepped gingerly, slowly, taking care to feel for vines, lifting feet high when she was sure each cleared them. She kept her good hand stretched behind her, to balance her weight so if she fell, she fell backwards against the incline again. Soon the ground leveled off, however, and she could stand straighter. Ahead through the trees the moon illuminated the cobblestones bluish white, and the river rushed very loud.

  As she came to the edge of the tree line, she caught sight of movement on the bank. She stopped, keeping herself out of sight.