Bottled Up

by K. J. Emrick

  His eyes are wide and wild. He’s crazy. He’s insane. He’s going to kill me.

  Me, and anyone else who knew about it, he said.

  Kevin knew about it. James, too. Gimble would go after both of them, after he got done with me and Jasmine.

  Over my dead body.

  Not the best choice of words, I admit…

  The knife makes circles in the air as he brings it lower, and lower, until I can feel it touching my hip, just above the waistline of my pants. I had my arms flattened out against the wall behind me, not wanting them to get anywhere close to that knife for fear that he’d just slash through my forearm, or my hands, or my fingers. He pressed the point of it into my flesh there, just enough to pull out a gasp that was muffled behind his cupped hand.

  “Gonna die now, little girl.” His voice is the gruff whisper that I remembered from the hotel room, when he made this same threat to me. “Still might want to play with ya some. Maybe I’ll take some time and just show ya what a man like me is capable of. Every woman needs a good man once… before they die.”

  And again I say, over my dead body.

  Then the strange situation got even weirder.

  Suddenly, I can feel the presence of a hand on my shoulder. It’s not Gimble’s. This hand was reassuring. It was familiar. I’d know that touch anywhere.

  My husband’s ghost was still here for me.

  The language of ghosts had nothing on the language of love.

  Go ahead, he was telling me. You can do it.

  Do it…

  Thank you, Richard.

  When I open my mouth as wide as it can go, Gimble’s hand falls in between my jaws.

  My teeth clamp down on the web of his hand between his thumb and his pointer finger, and I bite just as hard as I can, until I can taste blood.

  Gross? Yes.

  But effective.

  Gimble screams and tugs at his hand, reflexively pulling it away from me. He stumbles back. I let him go. It gives me the space I need to finish reaching over and grab the broom from the corner. Now I’m armed.

  Well. Just with a broom, but still.

  Gimble’s screaming at me. “Bugger me! Ya bit me. I’m bleeding! I’m bleeding! You’re—umph!”

  The head of the broom takes him square in the side of the face. Unlike when I was swatting at Lachlan, this man is solid. I can hurt him. I want to hurt him.

  I’m going to hurt him.

  He drops the kitchen knife to throw up his arms and defend his head from my next attack. And the next one.

  Then I’m not aiming for his head anymore.

  Spinning the broom around I ram it handle first right into his solar plexus just as hard as I can. It might have bumped up against his spine.

  With a grunt of pain, he drops to his knees, both hands over his stomach. That’s gonna leave a bruise, and no doubt.

  Only fair, considering what he did to my neck. In fact, I think I owe him more.

  While he’s busy protecting his tender midsection, I bring the broom down on his head. Over and over. And over. And over.

  The broom handle breaks. Fine with me. Now I’ve got two parts to hit him with.

  When I’m running out of breath I fall back against the wall, staring down at the bloody, unconscious form of Gimble Harris. Gonna be some bruises on his face tomorrow, too, but at least I’m leaving him alive. More than he had planned for me.

  Is it over? Is that it? There were no accomplices. Just Gimble, and here he was on the floor of my rooms, beaten down and no longer a threat to me. Was that it?

  Looking down at him again, I see something in one of his pockets. He’s still got that Socceroos jacket on. I’ve got a feeling it’s the only one he owns. In that one pocket, I can see the yellowish corner of a manila envelope sticking out. I blink at it, and wonder if maybe… could it be?

  I drop the half of the broom with the bristles and hold the other half of the handle high over my head while I kneel down at Gimble’s side. If he so much as twitches, I’m giving him more of what he just got.

  Snagging the corner of the envelope, I pull it out, and I smile to myself. Sure enough, it’s the note from Orville McGowan’s bottle. I’ve got it back.

  Well, well. Took a round about way of getting here, but now it’s mine again. Might take me some time, but if I can just find a way to bring out the rest of the writing on the note, then the mystery really will be over. I’ll be able to put it to rest.

  Is there a treasure? Maybe. At this point, I say it can stay buried and forgotten for all of eternity. Except, if there is one, then Jasmine needs the money. Finding out if this really is the key to untold wealth might be the least I can do for her, after I accused her of such horrible things. Turned out I was wrong after all. She was a real friend, even if she was only here for my money.

  Okay, now that I’ve said that out loud in my head, I realize the irony. She’s not a real friend. She didn’t want to kill me, which is great, but she was only here in Tasmania to get money from me. She couldn’t care less about me. That’s not what friends do.

  That’s another issue, and one we can maybe work through, now that I know the truth. Which reminds me. I have to call Kevin and let him know he can let Jasmine go from custody. For that matter, I have to call him so he can come collect Gimble!

  I take a breath, because this might all be over.

  Knock, knock.

  I spin around and hold the broken end of the broom threateningly toward the door. I’m not sure I can take one more person showing up here tonight. Had just about all the excitement I can stand for one day, thank you.

  Not dying will do that to a girl.

  “Who is it?” I call out. I’ve got a death grip on my stick and I’m not opening the door ever again without asking who it is first.

  “It’s me, Miss Powers.”

  Mister Brewster, back again. Just in time for things to be over. “Now’s not a good time,” I tell him. “Can it wait?”

  “I heard a commotion. Might I be of any help?”

  Well, actually, I could use someone to watch Gimble while I clean up. Guess his timing isn’t all that bad after all. I’ve still got blood in my mouth. I can taste it. I’m going to have to gargle with iodine to get the taste off my tongue.

  I want that bath more than ever, and it’s just gonna have to wait.

  “Come on in, Mister Brewster. It’s unlocked.”

  In a lot of ways, the wrap up of a mystery is harder than the solving of it.

  When you’re in the middle of a mystery, you’re just reacting. Action and reaction. Easy. Sometimes things are moving so fast that you don’t have time to even think. Gimble attacks me in the hotel room, I slam my knee up into his crotch. A ghost appears in my mirror, and I do what she says. Gimble tries to kill me again, and I bite his hand.

  I still haven’t gotten the taste of him off my tongue, for the record.

  But after everything is said and done, comes the part where you have to explain everything, again and again and again, and admit that you made lots of mistakes along the way. Like accusing your best friend of trying to kill you. Like letting an insane man trail you back to your home. Things like that.

  So after the fifth time through the story, I think I’ve told my son everything.

  Kevin eyes me from across the desk. I’m sitting on this side and he’s sitting on that side, in that leather Sergeant’s chair of his. “I know I’ve said this before, Mom, but my life is so much more interesting when you’re around.”

  “I have no idea what you mean,” I say, all innocent like. “I’m just the quiet owner of an Inn situated in one of the loveliest little towns in all of Tassie.”

  “Uh-huh. And I spend all my days writing parking tickets and getting cats out of trees. Like I don’t know my own mother. Another day, another mystery. That’s the way it is for Dell Powers.”

  “Well. At least no one died this time.”

  “Thank Heaven for small favors. Think I’ll miss the excitement
if ya ever stopped getting right in the middle of everything?”

  I laugh at him trying to act all put out. “You’ve got a baby on the way. I’d think your life would be interesting enough all on its own.”

  He tosses his hands up in the air. “You’re in the middle of a mystery that’s got a guy trying to kill ya, twice, and you’re still more interested in whether me and Ellie are gonna tie the knot.”

  “Of course I am,” I say to him with a sweet smile. “It’s part of a mother’s job to be more interested with her son’s life than her own.”

  He just shakes his head. “Not sure that applies when your actual life is in danger, Mom. If Gimble had been a little more determined, this whole thing might’ve turned out different. Been a long time since you’ve been in hospital, but you’re just about due. Could’ve been worse than that, even, all things considered.”

  “Don’t change the subject,” I tell him. “You and Ellie have put this off long enough, don’t you think? She’ll be going to hospital any day to give birth—”

  “Her due date’s in two and a half months, Mom.”

  “And that child will be born without any idea where they belong in the world—”

  “We’ll make sure the baby knows how important family is.”

  “And you need to make some decisions!” I insist.

  “I’ve got a whole list.”

  “Is Ellie moving to Lakeshore with you permanently? Is she going to take your name or keep her own? Oh, please don’t tell me you’re going to take her name. I know it’s all modern and what-not to do that, but I want our family name to get passed down. It’s what your father would’ve wanted. I’m only telling you all of this because you need to know how important a wedding is. Not just to you, but to that child of yours too, and to me!”

  “I know that, Mom.”

  “Besides, I don’t think that an actual wedding is too much to ask for from the only son I’m ever going to—”

  “What are you doing next Thursday?”

  His question brings my verbal ramblings to an abrupt halt. I know I’ve been sort of babbling, but I’ve kept this to myself long enough, in my opinion, and it’s all bubbling over now. There’s things every mother needs to tell their children, including when they think their kids are making a mess of their personal lives. That’s what it would be if Kevin didn’t take the step to marry that amazing Ellie of his.

  Wait. Did he ask what I’m doing next Thursday?

  “Why?” I ask him in return. “What’s going on next Thursday?”

  His smile is bright enough to light up the room around us. “That’s when me and Ellie are getting married. Her parents are going to be there. I wanted my own Mom there, too. Got some good friends going to be there but for the most part it’s just gonna be our families. Pastor Albright’s already agreed to do the service. Just a small affair, and then we get to start our life as husband and wife.”

  Well, will wonders never cease.

  I couldn’t get out of my chair and over to him fast enough to throw my arms around his neck. My son’s getting married. Finally, my son’s going to get married!

  With a smile, I whisper in his ear, “About time.”

  “We’ve had this planned for two months,” he lets on. “Just hadn’t told ya yet.”

  “Trying to give me a heart attack, was that it?”

  “Like Dell Powers needs anyone else trying to kill her.” He laughs and stands up with me. “I haveta admit, watching how much it stressed ya out was a benefit of sorts, but really we had another reason altogether. Her father’s been sick. We didn’t want to plan a happy, festive event until we knew what was going to happen with him. Now his cancer’s in remission and it just seems like the right time all around. So. Told ya we had a plan.”

  “Yes, you did. Just sort of left off the details.” Wow. I never even knew that Ellie’s father was sick. When my son decides to play something close to the vest, he can fool even me. “Of course I’ll be there at your wedding. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Aces. Wouldn’t want to get married without ya there.”

  “And you’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do for her dad?”

  “Everything’s handled for now, but yes, I will. They didn’t want to say anything before but now that he’s on the mend it’s not a secret any longer. So.” His expression changes, back to the serious matter of why I’m in his office at the Lakeshore Police Department in the first place. “For now, just go on home. With your statement, and the note, we’ve got everything we need to press charges against Gimble. I’ve been in contact with the police over in Blue Laguna. They’re gonna look into Gimble’s home and his place of work. I don’t know what they’ll find but I’ve got a feeling you’re not the first person he’s attacked. Ya know, I’ve heard stories about Orville McGowan before. Just never paid them much mind. Now that I know how crazy it can make someone, I’ll be just as happy to see the end of that note. I can tell ya that.”

  “Actually, about that.” The note’s been sitting on the edge of his desk, sealed in a plastic evidence bag. “I think we need to do more than just bury that note in a file somewhere. I think, if we want this to be over, we need to see everything Orville wrote in it.”

  “Hmm. Interesting notion but I think the rest of those words might be lost for good. All we can see is those few words.” He shrugged and ran a finger down the plastic sleeve over the note. “It’s just an interesting bit of history, and a mystery that can’t be solved.”

  I smile at him, because I’ve got an idea. “Mind if I take it for a day or two? I know someone up in Geeveston who runs a print shop. He knows a thing or two about bringing out images on paper.”

  Kevin drums his fingers against the desk, and then gives me another shrug. “Don’t see why not. We’ve got the photos of the note and such. Have at it. Who knows? Maybe your friend can help solve the rest of the mystery. Like ya said, it’d be nice to put this whole thing to rest for good.”

  “Yeah it would.” Well, now that we have that settled. “So, Kevin. I didn’t see Jasmine when I got here.”

  “No. That’s because she left just as fast as her two feet would take her. She didn’t want to stick around any longer than it took for us to open the front door.”

  “Oh.” I suppose I should have expected that. “Any idea where she went?”

  “I really don’t, Mom. She didn’t have much to say on the way out. Guess we won’t be seeing anything of her around town again.”

  No, I don’t imagine we will. She would have to pick up her car from the Inn before she could leave Lakeshore, but I’ve been here for a couple of hours now. She’s had plenty of time to pick up and go. For all I know, she’s already half way up the Huon Highway by now.

  In a strange sort of way, I had been looking forward to talking to her about what happened. On the other hand, I have to think that it was just as well she and I left it this way. She hadn’t tried to hurt me, sure, but she had lied to me. She had tried to use me for money. Our friendship had been distant all these years, and now it was over. Not sure any amount of talking was going to fix that.

  Kevin could see the uneasiness written across my face. “It’s okay, Mom. Sometimes people change. And sometimes…”

  “Time moves on,” I finish for him. “How did you get so smart?”

  “Are ya kidding me?” he asks. “I grew up with Dell Powers for a mother. There’s not a thing Tasmania can throw at me that I can’t handle.”

  Now that does a mother good to hear. “I love you, Kevin.”

  “Love ya too, Mom. Ellie wants to have a dinner together Monday night. Wants to plan out the wedding. Are ya free?”

  “I’ll make sure I am.” All of this talk about family brought a touchy question to mind. “Is your sister going to be at the wedding?”

  His frown is immediate at the mention of his sister, almost like an involuntary reflex. “Carly’s gonna do whatever Carly’s gonna do at this point. She’s on her own. T
hrew her lot in with that cult up in Coffs Harbour. Might just have to accept the fact we’ll never see her in these parts again.”

  “It’s not a cult,” I try to argue, but the fact is he’s closer to the truth than I want to admit. The ‘commune’ she’s at is a secretive group of people living in ways that I don’t understand. I keep telling myself if she’s happy, then that’s all that matters, but those words have worn mighty thin.

  The little voice telling me to drive right up there and drag her young behind back home is still there, at the back of my mind, and getting louder all the time.

  This is why I don’t want to talk about it with anyone. I’m all torn up about what she’s doing, but I have to let her be her own person. Kind of a catch 22, rock-and-a-hard-place sort of thing. I don’t know what to do about it. So, I do nothing and just hope that one day Carly finds her way back to me.

  Well. I can’t worry about the things I can’t change. I just have to learn to accept them. God’s being real patient with me in that regard. The good news here, the real takeaway, is that me and Kevin are fine. He’s getting married, and I’m going to be a grandmother.

  Oh, wow. That might be the first time I’ve really let that sink in. Dell Powers is going to be a grandmother. Who would’ve ever seen that coming?

  What a day this has been.

  Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.

  Chapter 10

  A trip to Geeveston is what it brought me.

  When I said I had a ‘friend’ up here, I may have been overstating the case just a little.

  Marlon Appleby had been a business associate of mine a number of years ago. I bought several banners from him for the Inn for an Australia Day celebration, and for a while I was stocking souvenir t-shirts with the Pine Lake Inn’s image on the front, or an image of the three lakes that Lakeshore is nestled up against, or things like that. All of them were created by Marlon. All of them sold really well. It was a mutually beneficial relationship.