by A. D. Roland
“By the time you’re able to get out of this bed, it’ll be gone from beneath that damn tree.” Justine stepped back. “As I said, you have two choices. You can plead guilty to the charges of fraud and conspiracy, or…I can finish what your boyfriend started.”
It wouldn’t be too hard to hurt her now, not now when she was at her weakest.
“What do you want from me?” Mattie’s seeking fingers finally found the cord for the remote between the bed rail and the mattress. She followed it and found the hard edge of the device itself. The call button was at the bottom, a raised, firm bubble. She pressed it over and over again. Justine was lost in her mania and never noticed.
“I want you to pay for what you’ve done to my family. You’re an interloper. You aren’t wanted here, and now that you’ve ruined everything James and I have worked for, you’ve got to pay for it.”
The door swung open and a nurse hurried in, flipping on the light. “Mattie?” She saw Justine and jumped, startled.
“Ma’am, Mattie’s visitors are restricted.” It was a security measure, to protect Mattie from any further threats, and to make sure she stayed where she was supposed to until the DA was done with her.
“She’s leaving,” Mattie said firmly. “Right, Justine?”
“Not until you--“
“Can you call security?” Mattie asked the nurse. “I don’t want her here.”
Justine reached out for Mattie. She turned away and the woman grabbed a double handful of her hair. She yanked her up, half out of the bed. “You have to pay!”
Mattie shrieked and the nurse jumped in between her and Justine, yelling as loud as she could. “Code gray, Code gray!”
The nurse pried Justine’s hands out of her hair. Two security guards ran into the room and between them, hustled Justine out of her room. Mattie heard her yelling all the way down the hall.
Shaking, Mattie curled up around an extra pillow. The nurse smoothed her hair back from her face. “Are you all right?”
Mattie nodded. “I think so. She just scared me.”
“Who was that?”
“My aunt. She’s a little bit crazy.”
“Do you want something to help you get back to sleep? I can get Doctor Lewis to sign an order.”
“No, no. I’m okay. She’s gone. I’ll be all right now. West will be here in the morning.”
The nurse stayed for a few more minutes, checking her blood pressure and then to make sure none of her incisions had reopened during the minor struggle with Justine. “Everything looks good. If you need anything, just push the button.”
The wheels in Mattie’s heads were spinning, tumbling around everything Justine had said. The forming plan was horrible and would be brutal on her healing body, but it had to be done.
Justine had told her exactly where to look. That damn tree, Justine had said with such contempt.
“Can I have another dose of something for my shoulder? It sort of got wrenched a little bit. A pill or something, though, I don’t want anything in my IV. Messes my head up too bad.”
“Of course.” She returned a few minutes later with a single pill in a tiny plastic cup. She gave Mattie a sip of water and turned to write in her chart. Mattie took the pill and hoped it would be enough to get her through the next few hours. The nurse adjusted Mattie’s blanket and left, turning the room lights off as she left.
Mattie knew she had to move quickly. She had to get to the tree before Justine did. They wouldn’t expect her to attempt to find Elaine. She thought calling West, but the last thing she wanted to do was involve him in something else with yet another psycho.
Sitting up nearly undid her. Fortunately, it helped clear the last of the sedative-haze from her head. She sipped tepid water from the pitcher on the bedside table, gathering a pitiful amount of strength for the hobble to the door. Her room was at the end of a hall, far from the main entrance to the ward, but only a few doors down from the emergency stairwell.
Stairs. Oh God…
It was the only way out. It took forever, clinging to the rails, to make it down to the ground floor. The fire door took her out in the back halls, between utility bins full of dirty sheets and towels. A quick glance down the hall led her to an employee locker room where she ‘borrowed’ a t-shirt and a pair of jeans from someone’s locker. She grabbed flip-flops and a wallet from another locker, then slipped out a back door. As she walked across the parking lot, she made sure her hair fell into her face, hiding K’s last gift to her.
She made it to the corner of Clyde Morris Boulevard and International Speedway Boulevard before the combination of major surgery to repair life-threatening wounds and three weeks of convalescing caught up with her. She sat down heavily on a bus stop bench and panted away the dizziness that threatened to black her out. The last thing she needed was to get caught outside the hospital.
The problem lay now in logistics. She had to get from Daytona to Barberville, undetected. It wouldn’t be long before someone realized she was gone.
Fighting the black fuzz that threatened to steal away her consciousness, Mattie checked the wallet. It belonged to a woman named Latricia, and she had forty bucks, a couple of credit cards, and a condom stuck behind the driver’s license.
A taxi would be her best bet.
It took her ten minutes to get across the street to a dingy K-Mart, where she called a cab from a pay phone. Within a few minutes, one pulled up in front of the store. She got in and gave them her address.
She stretched out in the backseat, pillowing her aching head on her arm, ignoring the faint, unpleasant odors mingled with the scent of Febreze emanating from the cushions.
West had to know what was going on by now. She’d seen the headlines in the newspaper boxes in front of K-Mart. Her old mug-shot had been printed right next to a picture from her wedding.
Gee, I wonder. You’ve been pretending to be someone you’re not, with the all-too-prove-able intentions of scamming them out of money.
If the cops had the body, they could prove Justine and James McKendrick were responsible for the child’s death. Ruth Ellen would stand behind Mattie, and verify she hadn’t been out to scam anything. She could prove she was just another McKendrick daughter, seeking her rightful inheritance.
The ride to West’s was long, bumpy, painful. The driver went as fast as he could, but it still took forever. She instructed him to drive her all the way to the remains of the burned trailer. He scowled when she pushed the cash into his hand. It was just enough to cover the cost of the trip.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I don’t have much extra for a tip. Hey, can you drop this in a mailbox or something? I found it back here.” She shoved the wallet through a space in the mesh cage separating him from the backseat. She got out into the bright sunlight and wobbled, dizzy.
The driver growled something she didn’t quite catch and spun off into the bright morning. The RV sat close to the blackened remains of the trailer. She limped to the door and tried the handle.
It was open! Once inside she got a bottle of cold water from the fridge and drank a long gulp. Tears filled her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. The cozy little RV smelled like West, and West smelled like home. Home.
“I don’t want to leave,” she whispered. The water gave her a little boost of energy.
She got a shovel from the shed outside, so weak she could barely move. She used it like a walking stick, leaning most of her weight on it. Forcing herself to take step after step, she trudged to the orange grove, stopping to rest against the pine trees.
By the time she made it to the old dead grove, she was so weak she couldn’t stay on her feet. She dropped to her knees and breathed slowly, deeply. After a long, woozy moment, she forced herself back up and plodded to the old oak tree. Trailing her fingers over the drooping bough, she ducked beneath it. The hole she’d begun to dig for K was still there. Bits of yellow police tape hung from the tree and thin wooden stakes surrounding the shallow pit.
As she plunged
the shovel in to the dirt a few feet away from the tree, in the gap between two huge roots just beneath the heart West had carved into the tree, tears began to run down her face.
Sweat poured down her face. The sun vanished behind heavy rain clouds, and thunder rumbled close by.
The scoops became scrapes after a while. This was too hard. Too much. She let the shovel fall to the side and sat down on the edge of the hole. Black sparkles swirled in her vision. She wanted to cough to clear the thick feeling in her chest
***
The caress of rain on her cheek woke her. Thirsty and dirty, she sat up, surprised to find herself in a hole. The hole was deeper than she remembered, but then again, right before she passed out she swore the bark of the tree was writhing like hard gray worms. It was good, though. She’d made progress.
To her horror, she realized she couldn’t stand up. Her legs were like jelly. She slid off the edge of the hole and plopped down into the mud. The water stung her healing surgical incisions. She whacked her left elbow on the side of the hole and the pain that wracked her shoulder left her woozy and gasping for air.
“This ain’t going to stop me,” she whispered, using her good hand to scrap away dirt. She didn’t know what she was going to do if this was the wrong spot.
Rain pounded down on her back, soaking her. Mud formed around her until she was sitting in a waist-deep puddle. Still, she clawed through the dense muck.
Despair began to set in when she was up to her breasts in mud and still hadn’t found anything. She’d been digging in the wrong spot. There wasn’t anyway she could do this all over again. It was hard to breathe, hard to think. She sobbed her frustration into the mud.
“I’m not giving up!” she cried to the hemorrhaging sky.
She struggled to her knees and plunged both arms into the muck once more, ignoring the grinding pain in her shoulder. She swept out both arms, embracing the muck. She screamed into the dirt.
“Elaine!”
Sister. Blood calls to blood. Come on, sis, where are you? Let me find you. Let me take you home. Let me save you.
Her questing fingers touched something. Gritty and wet, she instantly identified it as fabric. She pulled and it ripped. “No!” She plunged back into the muck and accidentally sucked in a mouthful of foul water. Hacking and coughing, she turned her face away from the mud and reached further.
There. She got her hands around the object once more, and pulled it towards her. Muddy rainwater ran over the edge of the hole, showering her, but softening the dirt further. The torrential rain would drown her as it brought her family’s sin to light.
Keeping her left hand on the bundle, she cleared away dirt until she could tug it out completely.
Without a doubt, it was the body of the long-lost child, swaddled in a ragged, bug-eaten woven blanket. The rain began to let up.
Mattie pulled the bundle of bones into her lap and leaned back against the side of the pit. It was just over her head. The sun peered through the oak tree’s branches.
“I found you, Lainie.” Seemed natural to call her that. Long, tangled blonde hair hung out of the end of the bundle. Mattie gathered the hair into a thin tail and tucked it under the edge of the blanket. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.”
Birds chirped in the trees and a rowdy chorus of cicadas struck up a song. She closed her eyes and drifted away, lost in made-up memories of playing with her two little sisters. As she slipped further away, the little blonde girl grew up, her hair darkened, and she planned a nursery with her amazing husband. The belly she stroked was huge and firm, and life moved beneath her fingertips. Music filled her head, the strains of a song she loved dearly.
All the world is waiting for the sun. He hummed, and she whispered the words to the song. Her song. Their song.
Mattie didn’t realize she wasn’t alone until the thunderous bang of a gun snatched her back to consciousness. The bullet plowed into the earth by her earth, kicking hot clods of dirt into her face. She clutched the body of her baby sister to her chest.
“You can’t have her,” she yelled at the blurry figure standing over the pit.
“I’ll take her and you.”
A distant shout distracted the woman. “Justine!”
West. West! Mattie stifled a soft sob. Tears mixed with the drying rain and mud on her face. She hugged the shrouded body even closer. She could finally give him his beloved Elaine. She could give him peace.
Justine raised the gun again, squinting as she aimed. As she fired, someone plowed into her from the side. The shot went wide, striking the tree overhead and showering Mattie with splinters of wood. She cowered against the wall of dirt, the musty bundle held tight. Something fell out of the folds of the blanket.
On the other side of the hole, a fight ensued. That wasn’t West. Mattie looked up, unable to rise, unwilling to rise. West jumped into the hole next to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. He was crying, his face red where it wasn’t bruised.
“Who?” she asked, trying to see over his shoulder before everything went black.
“Your father. The hospital called us about Justine and we knew--“ He kissed her muddy face and clutched her to his chest. Another gunshot sounded. West stiffened and squeezed her tighter. Slowly, He turned around.
James rose from the ground, muddy, wet, and bloody. But he held the gun, and Justine stayed down. “I’m sorry,” he said over the sound of rain plinking down from the treetops.
“Dad,” Mattie whispered. James heard her and nodded.
He lifted the gun, put it to his head.
“No,” West croaked. “Mr. McKendrick, no.”
“Take care of Em, West.”
Bang.
West cried out and buried his face in Mattie’s hair. Hard sobs shook his sturdy frame. While he cried against her shoulder, red and blue flashes lit the dead orchard in a riot of color. Pounding footsteps squelched through the mud.
Mattie closed her eyes and almost dozed off. She remember she had something in her hand. Raising it to the wan daylight shining through the thick clouds, she realized she was holding a bracelet.
A name formed by delicate golden wire lifted a thousand pounds from her shoulders.
Justine.
Chapter Thirty-One
“She must have pulled it off when Justine--“
Strangled her. West couldn’t bring himself to say it. The medical examiner determined that’s how the five year old had died. There was enough tissue left to determine her throat had been crushed and her neck fractured. The necklace was locked up in an evidence locker somewhere, but it haunted him. Justine always wore that necklace when they were children.
Mattie sat on a lounge on the porch, watching the ocean. “Dolphins,” she said, pointing. Three distant shapes leapt out of the water near the horizon. She didn’t want to talk about anything that had happened. Not yet.
Her doctors said to give her time. The nightmares tapered off, occurring only once or twice a week instead of every single night, every single time she closed her eyes. He’d signed his land over to Jose, done with that desperate attempt to hang on to the McKendrick’s and Elaine, and moved them to a small house on the beach, grateful for the incomprehensibly large check Ruth Ellen’s laywer delivered a few days after all the charges had been dropped against Mattie. The light was starting to come back in her eyes. She laughed more, and didn’t insist on hiding inside the new house so much.
She used some of the money to pay to bury her father, give Elaine the burial she deserved, and to pay off Emeline’s condo. The huge mansion was for sale. After his death, everything McKendrick had been hiding came to light. His fortune was wiped out in days. Em still hadn’t forgiven Mattie and wouldn’t speak to her. Mattie didn’t push it and let West deal with her. Despite her nasty attitude, Mattie set up a comfortably-padded bank account for the girl, and promised to deposit more, once Ruth Ellen died and the trust funds were available.
He sat down on the lounge next to his wife. The scars from her sur
geries were bright pink, vivid against her pale skin. Her left arm was in a sling, her hand casted all the way to her elbow to allow the shattered bones in her fingers and hand to heal. The one on her cheek wasn’t as bad as they’d feared it would be. The surgeons she could finally afford had done an excellent job fixing the damage.
She smiled at him and reached out for his hand. Two months had passed since he carried her out of the pit in the orchard. West grinned back and squeezed her fingers. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them. One by one, he kissed her fingertips, her palm, her wrist. He kissed the length of her arm, across her shoulder, her throat.
She sighed and turned her head, giving her access to the sensitive spot beneath the corner of her jaw. Her hand cupped the back of his neck, pulling him closer. “If you don’t kiss me, West, I’m going to explode.”
He indulged her, tasting the fruit juice she’d been sipping on her lips. Laughing softly, she pushed him back and straddled him. Her eyes blazed, and part of West’s heart leapt with joy. “I missed you,” he whispered. It had been so long since he’d seen the ferocious side of her, the fiery passion that had sucked him in, body and soul, to begin with.
“Thank you for waiting for me,” she leaned down and kissed him again, grinding against him. She bit his earlobe. He hissed and pulled her down firmly against his cock. “Hey, you only have six months left.”
West smirked. He pushed urged her back, then worked the fly of his jeans open and freed himself from his boxers. After a quick chance to make sure their closest neighbors weren’t getting a free show, she kicked off her bikini bottoms and lowered herself onto his erect cock. They both gasped.
“You’re amazing,” he said, barely able to breathe when she started to work her body up and down. Hands on her hips, he helped her find the perfect rhythm. “I don’t want a year of you, Mattie.”
She paused and looked down at him, one eyebrow cocked.
He gave her hips a hard squeeze. “I want a hundred years of you.”