Fatal Agreements

by Ashley Fontainne

  “Kip, we’re friends now, and friends call each other by their first names, right Grayson?”

  “Right! And I did say thank you, Dad.”

  “Yes you did, Grayson. Don’t worry, Kip, his manners are impeccable.” Sam grinned while glancing up to the ceiling. “Nice! I love the shape of the glass fixtures. They fit the décor to perfection.”

  “Thank you. So, did you get the cords?”

  “I did.” Sam held up a plastic sack. “We’ll let you do your thing. I promised Grayson a tour of the basement.”

  “Basement? I didn’t know you had one? I thought there’s only a crawlspace?”

  Sam laughed. “Yeah, there is. This place is full of secrets. Come on, Grayson. I’ll need your help moving the rug in the conference room to get to the trap door.”

  Grayson jumped up and down with excitement. “There’s a trap door too? How cool! You said a doctor used to own this place a long time ago, right?”

  “Yep. Dr. Halstead. He was the first physician in Garland County.”

  Grayson’s eyes widened with curiosity. “Do you think he buried people down there?”

  Sam threw her head back and laughed. Rachel and Reed, Jr. asked the exact same question. “What an imagination you have, Grayson. I promise you, there are no skeletons hidden away, only dirt, a few boxes of old newspapers, a secret door, an empty cistern and patient records. Oh, and a couple of old wasp nests.”

  “Wasps?”

  “They’re long gone, Grayson. I wouldn’t take you down there if there was a chance we’d get stung. The minute I found them, I called an exterminator. My brother-in-law is deathly allergic to bees and wasps, so don’t worry. Come on. We need to let your dad get to work so you two can catch Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.”

  Kip raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”

  “We passed a movie theater on the way home. The show starts at seven. Can we go see it, Dad?”

  “We’ll see. Let me get to work. Okay?”

  “Grayson? Would you please find Wee Thing and put him in the bathroom right there? I don’t want him to sneak downstairs with us.”

  “Sure!”

  Waiting until Grayson disappeared around the corner, Sam handed Kip a wad of cash. “This should cover today and a fun night out with your sweet boy. My way of saying thanks for blowing an entire Saturday because of my issues.”

  Kip shook his head. “No. The fixtures were all part of my original bid.”

  Sam pressed the money into Kip’s palm. “True, but installing the security system is extra. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “Thank you. Extra cash is always appreciated.”

  Cocking her head to the sound of Grayson’s “Here kitty-kitty” at the back of the house, Sam whispered, “One other thing I need to discuss with you.”

  Kip’s mouth went dry. “What?”

  “Suzy would kick my ass for sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I can’t shake the urge. She’s got two great kids I adore. I don’t want to see them get hurt because their mother is lonely and decided to chase after ghosts of her past.”

  Heat raced to Kip’s cheeks. Bitter bile rose up his throat, burning the entire way. “I don’t know what you’re talking…”

  “Kip—she told me you two have been flirting. I’m asking you to not take things to a level neither of you can come back from. Reed’s a good man, and your boss.”

  “Sure, I gotcha. No problem. Besides, Kathy and I are trying to work things out.”

  “Great news, Kip! If you two can fix whatever issues pulled you apart, it’ll be the best for your son.”

  “Yeah, I know. Uh, listen, if I’m going to take Grayson to a movie later, I need to get cracking.”

  Sam stuck out her hand. “Of course. No hard feelings for me being a nosy gal, right?”

  Swallowing hard, Kip shook Samantha’s hand and nodded. The feel of her skin made his stomach burn. Without saying a word, he turned and headed upstairs to retrieve the boxes, fighting the urge to puke.

  “Found him! Gosh, he’s so tiny,” Grayson yelled.

  “Thank you. Let me grab some flashlights,” Sam called back as she walked over to the reception area.

  Minutes later, Grayson held the flashlights as Sam pulled open the trap door. The musty scent of old dirt filled the conference room.

  “Phew! It smells funny.”

  Grabbing a light from Grayson, Sam smiled. “Yes, it does. The area’s been sealed for many, many years until recently. When I bought this place, I didn’t know there was a basement. Even the city thought the house was built on a crawlspace. Imagine our surprise when we found it! While tearing up the old floors, the workers discovered this trap door.”

  “How neat!”

  “Click your light on but let me go first down the stairs. Make sure to hang on to the railing. They’re steep.”

  “Okay.”

  Once they both were inside the basement, Sam made her way to the back wall to the old switch then flicked it on. A lone bulb dangling from an ancient wire bathed the area with light.

  Grayson’s eyes were wide with curiosity as he scanned the area. “How big is this place?”

  “It runs even with the entire house, though we can’t get past that section there.” Sam pointed to the right where the dirt was stacked high enough the opening was only about two feet. “Well, someone small like us would probably fit, but I’m not that adventurous.”

  “I bet the bodies are hidden there!”

  “Dr. Halstead was a general doctor not a mortician. Like the kind of doctor your mom takes you to see when sick? As I said before, no hidden skeletons are down here. Most houses this size built in the early 1900s had large basements used for storage of produce and water. You know, to help keep things cool in the middle of sweltering summers when air conditioners had yet to be built.”

  Frowning, Grayson turned his attention to the other side of the room. “What’s a mortician?”

  Wishing she used a different word other than mortician, Sam replied, “A person who takes care of someone who’s passed away before the funeral.”

  “Ewww! Gross!”

  “How about I show you some of the old newspapers over there?” Sam motioned with the flashlight. “Some of them are from 1910.”

  “Sure! Can I see some of the other stuff like the records from the doctor and the secret door?”

  Sam bit her lip, wishing she could take back even mentioning the records earlier. She planned on bringing them upstairs and destroying the papers months ago when she first found them but got sidetracked with all the other things requiring her attention during the remodeling.

  “No, you can’t. I’m sorry. The records are old yet still confidential.”

  “Bummer!”

  “I could use some help carrying them upstairs and throwing them into my shred bin if you don’t mind? Tossing them away is something I neglected to accomplish for months.”

  “Okay. Where are they?”

  Taking a few steps until only feet away from the location, Sam pointed. “Right behind the box of …”

  Sam’s words trailed off. A shiver ran up her spine.

  Grayson knelt down by the box with the yellowed papers. “Where? I don’t see anything but newspapers?”

  Joining the boy, Sam knelt, yanking the box away from the wall. “How odd! I know I didn’t move them.”

  Grayson pilfered through the fragile pages. “Oh, dead bugs! This one is weird looking. What is it?”

  Shaking away the sense of worry about what happened to the medical records, Sam leaned closer, examining his find. “A cicada shell I believe.”

  “Look at this article from 1913! A fire destroyed fifty blocks in downtown Hot Springs and burned down a bunch of bathhouses. How awful! Boy, I’m glad it didn’t burn this place down. It’s too neat to go up in flames. I think it’s cool you bought it and my dad helped save it.”

  Pushing aside the worry rumbling inside her stomach about what happened to t
he records, Sam smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad too.”

  Jumping to his feet, Grayson looked around. “Where’s the secret door?”

  Sam chuckled. The boy’s attention span hovered near one minute. “Grab your flashlight and follow me. We’ll need to crouch low.”

  “Why’s there a secret door?”

  “When I was a kid, the rumor was Dr. Halstead did weird experiments down here and used the secret door to sneak in patients.”

  “How creepy! Do you think the rumors are true?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, Hot Springs is full of interconnecting underground tunnels. Have you learned about prohibition in school yet?”

  “No. What does it mean?”

  “In the 1920’s, the government made the sale of alcohol illegal.”

  Bending down as they neared an old, dirty door, Grayson replied, “Oh, my dad wouldn’t like that. Mom says he’s too fond of bourbon. That’s alcohol, right?”

  Sam stifled a laugh. The boy missed nothing. “A lot of people back then didn’t like the decision either, so they made tunnels to move alcohol back and forth to bars without alerting the police.”

  After two hard yanks, Sam opened the decrepit door, shining the light down the tunnel.

  “Wow! Can we…?”

  “No, we can’t.” Sam put a hand on Grayson’s shoulder before he bolted. “The tunnels are full of all sorts of critters we don’t want to mess with. I went on an adventure the day I discovered them and almost got lost forever. There are too many twists and turns, making it easy to get turned around.”

  Grayson backed away. He reached out for Samantha’s warm hand. “I wouldn’t want to be lost down here forever!”

  Ruffling his hair, Sam shut the door. “I wouldn’t either. Enough adventure for one day. Let’s head back upstairs for more cocoa and some of my nana’s pecan pie from Thanksgiving, okay?”

  Grayson smiled. “Yum. Oh, can we let Wee Thing out so I can play with him? He’s so cute.”

  “Of course we can. Come on.”

  “You’re a lot of fun.”

  Warmth spread throughout Sam’s chest. “So are you, Grayson.”

  THE STORM RAGED outside so Sam snuggled under the covers, praying the power stayed on so the new security system would work. Knowing it was there gave her a sense of peace, yet she was still on edge.

  She hadn’t seen or heard from Richard since the disastrous night of the open house, yet she continued to remain diligent. No other dead animals appeared, but the random texts still arrived, always from a blocked number.

  She considered changing her number but didn’t. Bradford disagreed, telling her it was a mistake to keep the same one, but she countered with the fact Mom and Suzy changed their numbers yet it didn’t matter. Richard somehow, some way, got their new numbers.

  The conversation with Bradford on Thanksgiving night burst forth…

  …“I can’t afford to order new business cards, letterhead and pay to have my website updated, Bradford. I don’t have the extra funds since I’ll spend the last few hundred on updating my security system like you suggested.”

  “I don’t agree with your choices, but hey, your life, not mine. Men like Richard don’t give up. He’ll find a way to get to you. Here.” Bradford produced a small gift box from his pocket. “I intended to give this to your mother for Christmas, but I can order another. You need the added safety measure.”

  “What is it?”

  “The latest in recording technology. Looks and functions like any other watch, but also serves as a high-definition video camera. It can record up to two hours of video, and feed straight to anyone of your choosing with the app installed on their computer, phone or tablet. The unit is voice activated, allowing you to set your own code word to start recording without having to push a button.”

  Opening the box, Sam admired the sleek watch. If Bradford hadn’t told her about the hidden abilities, she wouldn’t be able to tell. “Bradford, I can’t accept this.”

  “You can, and you will. Charmaine is beside herself with worry over your safety. I won’t tell her the specifics, only I gave you something to help ease her mind.”

  “What about the security system and my guns?”

  Bradford laughed. “A high-priced doorbell is what you have, Samantha. You need a top-notch system with cameras and recording equipment.”

  “If you tell me what to buy, I’ll have my electrician install them Saturday.”

  “A great first step, but it won’t be enough. Neither will the guns.”

  “You don’t think…?”

  “No, I don’t.” Bradford secured the watch around Samantha’s thin wrist. “Even an expensive security system isn’t worth two cents if the power goes out. And guns? Well, they are an equalizer of sorts, but what happens if you can’t get to one, it misfires, or God forbid, the bastard disarms you? Then what will you do?”

  Sam stared at the watch while scowling. “Throw the watch at him?”

  Bradford burst out laughing. “Your mother said you had a smart mouth. She was right. No, this device also has a GPS signal and a panic button. One voice command or push of the button alerts the authorities of your location and you’re in danger.”

  Sam’s previous misgivings diminished. “Okay, I’m impressed.”

  “You go through the instruction manual while I write down the type of security system you need to buy. Oh, and one other thing I need to share.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Tell no one about the watch. I mean it. Not a soul. Think of it as your hidden superpower, in case he bypasses the security system and disarms you.”

  “Not even Mom?”

  “Nope. People talk. Gossiping is part of human nature. This little gem needs to be your secret.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “You know.”

  Bradford grinned. “True. The secret stays between the two of us. As sheriff, I endured years of practice holding things close to the vest. Hell, if I didn’t learn to keep secrets, my corpse would be feeding the roses from six feet under. This town is full of secrets…”

  …Glancing down at the silver watch, Sam smiled. She never entertained the idea her mother would date again after Big Sam passed away, yet since she did, at least she picked a man Sam liked and trusted.

  Charmaine had better man-radar than Sam.

  She knew, without a doubt, Richard Benton wouldn’t ride off into the sunset, never to be seen or heard from again. The silence was a relief in some ways, yet nerve-wracking in others. The longer he stayed away, the darker his plans for her, and possibly her family, would be.

  Wee Thing’s mom was proof.

  “If you do show up here again, Richard, I’ll kill you and won’t even blink an eye. Guaranteed.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Saturday, November 26, 2016

  DESPITE THE SOOTHING music coming from the radio and two shots of schnapps, Caroline’s nerves were wound tight. Ever since shopping on Friday with Charmee and the girls, she couldn’t sleep or eat.

  Staring down at her wrinkled hands hovering over the photo album, she sighed. It had been foolish to think the secret would stay buried forever. The only other person who knew what she did was Dr. Halstead, and he died four months after the baby arrived. The memory of the stormy night when Maria went into labor, delivering the child in the basement of the house Samantha now owned, roared back the first time she stepped inside the place.

  For years, she convinced herself Maria wouldn’t dare come back once freed from prison. Her parents were long-since dead and Maria had no other family in Central Arkansas. Why would she want to live in the town with bad memories around every corner?

  “Because she wants more money for the life you stole from her, you meddling old fool.” Caroline followed the statement with another shot of schnapps.

  She had hoped the discussion between the two at Sam’s open house party would be the last time they interacted. She stayed firm and made her in
tentions clear—there would be no more hush money paid. Maria didn’t handle giving up her child well and turned to drugs to numb the sadness, eventually dealing to sustain her habit after snorting and shooting up all the money Caroline provided.

  Shaking away the guilt of the past, Caroline sighed. Now Maria was back, which spelled trouble for the entire family.

  Four days went by without another incident.

  Until Friday.

  The first time she noticed Maria standing four aisles away at Bed, Bath & Beyond, Caroline assumed the woman was a figment of her guilt-riddled imagination and brushed it off.

  When she saw her again while eating at a restaurant in the mall, Caroline realized Maria was stalking them. Terrified of a public confrontation with the woman who bore Big Sam’s love child, she faked being tired and left.

  In the parking lot, she did a loop then wedged between two other vehicles, watching. Sure enough, Maria exited the mall and got on a bus.

  Caroline followed from a safe distance until the bus stopped and Maria got off. She walked for a block then went into a run-down home, disappearing inside.

  Caroline went straight home.

  For the next twenty-four-plus hours, she remained hidden inside the house like a frightened kitten. When the house phone rang, she jumped. When her cell phone buzzed, she turned it off. When the mailman knocked on the door earlier to deliver a package, Caroline’s heart pounded so loud inside her chest she feared a heart attack was next.

  “I can’t keep doing this. I’m on the defensive, waiting around for Maria to make the next move. This is ridiculous! I won’t sit around and wait for her to lead the game. Time to take back control and end this once and for all.”

  Staring back at the photo album full of over eighty years’ worth of memories, a lone tear trickled down her cheek. Samuel had been her life. She did all she could to protect him from harm, even when he was the one who caused it.

  The memory of when he came home from his second year in college for winter break burst forward. Big Sam had been upset. Caroline badgered him until he finally broke—the girl he met in college—Charmaine Hawthorne, was pregnant. They were both terrified about telling her family. Charmaine feared being cut off from her inheritance because her parents were strict Southern Baptists.