by Maria Quick
‘Don’t,’ he warned me, gripping my arm even tighter to prevent me from yelling for help. Yeah, I should’ve screamed before I looked.
He led me to our first destination, George following helplessly behind. I eyed up the lonely three cars and placed my bet. There was a grey Audi with British plates. Poor Ronnie. Wife kills him and takes his car. That’s gotta hurt. I scratched the German off my list. Next up was a bright yellow convertible with old frappe cups sprinkled over it. Okay, I’d leave it as a maybe. Last but terrifyingly not least was an anonymous black SUV: vehicle of choice for nefarious dudes and their doings.
Ding, we have a winner. And it wasn’t going to be me.
At least I’d be murdered by a gentleman, though. He opened the door for me before shoving me in to the backseat and locking the door. I know, I tried it. I could only watch and try not to cry as he came around to the driver’s seat and got in.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked as he switched on the ignition.
He grinned at me. It wasn’t a pleasant one.
‘For a drive.’
24
He didn’t say another word as he drove off, away from the city. He was a terrible driver, spinning the steering wheel one way and the other in quick succession; but I suspect that was to knock me about a bit. I eventually managed to get myself upright long enough to belt myself in. If I was going to die, it was going to be safely.
‘Do you still have your cell?’ George whispered. Again with the whispering.
‘Yeah, why?’
Jose jumped, but otherwise made no comment.
‘You should call the cops. Or text your dad or something.’
‘And say what? Help, I’m in a car but I don’t know where? And what would I say to my-’
I screamed mid-sentence, frightening every lucy and non-lucy in the car. Jose sped up, obviously wanting to kill me and get it over with. I didn’t blame him. Ronnie had just fallen through the roof of the car, landing in my lap. Face down. May I remind you, he was only wearing speedos?
‘Can you open the window? I feel a little ill,’ I asked Jose. He ignored me. Frankly, I wasn’t surprised. It’s super trippy hearing a disjointed conversation. I’d been in his shoes before, in my psych therapy sessions. The best thing to do in that situation is completely ignore the crazy.
Didn’t mean I didn’t hate him, though.
Ronnie managed to right himself and sit in the passenger seat up-front, giving us both a cheery grin.
‘Ronnie, what are you doing here?’
‘I was taking a walk on the cliffs when I noticed George’s arm out the window. It wasn’t your car, so I knew this wasn’t good. And I thought, I couldn’t let you face this all on your lonesome, could I? I thought I’d be with you till the very end.’
‘Ugh, what am I? Invisible?’ George scoffed.
‘Aren’t we all?’ sighed Ronnie wistfully.
‘Right. Thanks. I think.’
‘So, what’s happened in my absence? And why the bloody hell do you have a sock on your arm?’
‘I cut myself,’ I sighed. ‘I needed a bandage of some sort.’
‘Right, okay,’ he said slowly, giving me an odd look. ‘Why are you suddenly allowed to speak to us like a normal person?’
I shrugged, gesturing to the murderer in the driving seat.
‘May as well. When all else fails...’
‘Try and scare the living proverbial out of your would-be killer?’
‘That’s it in a nutshell,’ I smiled brightly.
‘While he’s driving?’ George asked anxiously, attempting to hold on to the door.
‘What do you care? You can’t die twice.’
‘How do you know?’
I shook my head, glancing at Jose as I did. He’d flinched every time I’d spoken, but he was still driving in a straight enough line so I guess he wasn’t that freaked.
‘Any news with Angela?’ I asked Ronnie. Jose looked up at that, only to give me an evil glare though. I smiled at him.
‘She’s gone.’
‘Gone? Gone where?’
‘Hell if I know. I dashed out last night to see her while you were snoring. She was there, alright. When I left you lot in a huff and came back today, she’d scarpered. No sign of her whatsoever.’
‘So, did you try searching for her?’ George asked, saving me the words.
‘Er, no. I noticed there was a volleyball match-’
We both groaned. He shrugged innocently.
‘You would’ve done the same in my position.’
‘There’s a time and a place, Ronnie. And it’s not when you’re trying to locate your missing wife,’ George sighed.
‘As good a time as any,’ Ronnie sniffed.
‘How did she seem last night?’ I asked, intrigued. If Ronnie’s timing was right, she would’ve disappeared before Jose came to my hotel room earlier today, when he hadn’t mentioned a thing...
Well, that was really all pointing to one conclusion, wasn’t it? Jose had killed Angela and he was going to kill me, too.
‘A bit distracted, actually. Worried,’ Ronnie was saying. ‘Like her world was falling apart and there was nothing she could do. Needless to say, I laughed in her face.’
‘Did she take anything?’ George asked.
‘Threw some clothes in a bag, I believe. I heard this bloke saying on the phone that she might come back for her suitcase,’ he said, nodding to Jose. ‘Can’t think why, though. Unless she’s got my money.’
‘No, she had something more than that. Cocaine, to be precise. And a lot of it.’
‘Are you sure it was cocaine?’ Ronnie asked me. I gave him a funny look.
‘Well, I didn’t think she was starting up a bakery, if that’s what you mean. It’s not a drug you can actually hide, you know.’
I shuddered, giving him the benefit of the doubt and reliving my first experience seeing it. Nope, there was no way it wasn’t real. And if it wasn’t, somebody had gone to a lot of trouble to fake it. Again, I looked at Jose. He hadn’t even blinked at my mention of the coke. His eyes were completely focused on the road in front of him; great for me. Or not, as I gazed out of the window. The houses were starting to thin out, and cars were becoming a rare occurrence. I should probably start saying my prayers.
Ooh! Or maybe I could blackmail him.
‘Nope, I can’t believe that,’ Ronnie sighed angrily. ‘She got drunk off one gin and tonic. Snorting coke is a bit of a leap.’
‘I’m telling you, it’s what we saw. The suitcase was full of it. Maybe you didn’t know your wife like you thought you did.’
‘Obviously not, considering she killed me. But drugs? Nah. Not her thing. She didn’t even take aspirin.’
‘Probably because she was coked up to the eyeballs,’ George sniggered.
‘Nope. Not Angela. I’m telling you, it’s not her. Murder’s one thing, but drugs? Completely different kettle of fish.’
George and I shared a look.
‘Really? Drugs are worse than murder for you? Interesting.’
‘Any more thoughts on where you hid the money?’ I asked Ronnie. Jose sat up at that, alert. I could almost see him listening out for the answer.
‘Not a sausage.’
I gathered that meant no.
‘Really? What a great place to put it. I don’t know why Angela didn’t think to search there,’ I said, anyway. I definitely had Jose’s attention now, but I tried to be subtle. I kept my eyes on Ronnie the whole time.
He was looking at me pretty oddly.
‘Are you imagining an old hotdog stuffed with dollar bills?’ George asked, frowning.
‘No,’ I said, putting emphasis on the word. I really hoped they’d understand before all parties around thought me insane. Not like that was anything new, but I could usually depend on lucies. I thought it was obvious what my plan was. Pretend I have information that Jose doesn’t, in order to save my life. Apparently not.
‘I meant that I have no idea whe
re I put it,’ Ronnie clarified. ‘Sorry if I confused you.’
‘Yeah, even I knew that.’
‘So did I,’ I said. I’ve never seen a more furrowed brow before in my life.
George edged away from me and turned to Ronnie for help.
‘Is she seeing us right now? Is there somebody else here that we’re not seeing?’
‘Did she even see us at all?’ Ronnie asked dreamily.
‘I can see and hear you both perfectly well,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘However, there is somebody else in the car.’
Immediately, their heads spun around trying to find the mystery assailant.
‘The guy driving!’ I yelled.
Poor, suffering Jose. Beads of sweat began to pour down his face as he struggled to maintain control of the vehicle. George and Ronnie were still baffled.
‘Maybe we should go,’ Ronnie suggested.
‘That’s a good idea.’
‘No, wait. George!’ I called after them. Man, they could move fast.
But not as fast as Jose slamming on the brakes.
‘That is it!’ he screamed. I was too busy nursing a possible broken neck from whiplash to listen. If I hadn’t been wearing the seatbelt, it would’ve snapped. That was for certain. Being so close to death if not for one little action, it really made me value my entire life. Which was unfortunate because Jose looked about ready to murder me.
‘Are you alright?’ George asked. They’d both returned swiftly.
‘I don’t know-’ I started, but Jose starting yelling again.
‘No, stop. Stop that. I can’t listen to this anymore. I cannot hear your attention-seeking garbage for another second.’
He took off his seatbelt and faced me, coming right at my face. It was an angry face, all screwed up and spitty. I saw this type a lot, so I knew how to react to it. I should remain calm, explaining my actions sincerely and with conviction to show that I am sane.
But he pissed me off, so I didn’t bother.
‘I wasn’t talking to you in the first place,’ I snapped, glaring as I held a hand against my neck.
‘Then, who were you talking to? Because there’s nobody else here. Nobody at all. Go on, point ’em out. I’m waiting.’
I gazed at George and Ronnie, but didn’t point. They seemed mournful and pitying. Of course, they hadn’t seen this before, but I had a million times over. I was merely numb.
‘Let the record show that Brianna did not point out a single living person in the vehicle,’ Jose announced, arms stretched wide.
‘That’s an odd thing to say,’ I commented, bored.
‘Told you. He’s a cop,’ George inputted.
I could think of a few reasons why that wasn’t so. Which brought me to my next question.
‘So, are you going to kill me or what?’
‘Kill you? Why would I kill you?’ he asked, genuinely confused. Okay, he caught me off-guard.
‘Um, because you threatened to do that this morning? Because you clearly killed your girlfriend for her stash of cocaine? And, you know, you kidnapped me and took me away from civilization,’ I reminded him, wondering why on Earth I was giving him reasons to kill me.
Inexplicably, he began laughing. A little chuckle here and there, then full-blown hysterical laughter. For once, I was not the maniac.
Never thought I’d miss that.
‘Where the hell are we, anyway?’ I demanded, looking around. It was a highway of some sort, off the beaten track. There was a car coming toward us in the distance, but too far away to save me.
He mumbled something as he tried to stop laughing.
‘What did he say?’ Ronnie asked, staring at him.
‘I think he said “the meeting point,”’ George translated.
Well, that didn’t make any sense. He wasn’t murdering me, and he only seemed annoyed by my presence. I wanted answers.
‘What the hell is going on? Why did you threaten me? And why did you take me away instead of calling the cops?’ I yelled.
Suddenly, all humor vanished from Jose. He went back to glaring, his face glowing with rage. I really felt he was going to kill me.
‘Because I am a cop!’
25
‘Son of a gun. You were right,’ I blurted out to George after the initial shock dissipated.
Instantly, Jose was on the offense.
‘No. I said stop that. There is nobody there, and this won’t fly with me.’
‘Just because you can’t see them, it doesn’t mean they aren’t there,’ I replied.
He couldn’t find it in himself to reply to that. Which was lucky, because George spoke.
‘Probably best not to enrage him any further,’ he advised me. Yeah, well.
I took my seatbelt off and stretched out. Jose seemed pretty traumatized by me. He was sitting sideways, his head in his hands and elbows perched on his lap. Ronnie had the decency to move out of his way, but wasn’t thanked for his efforts. Some people are so rude.
‘I’d like to see some ID,’ I said.
Slowly, Jose turned to glare at me.
‘I know my rights,’ I insisted. George shook his head in dismay but I wasn’t to be budged. I’ve been bullied by more cops than I can count. If I’m going to be arrested, I’d like to at least know who by.
Jose reached under his seat and fiddled around for something, eventually coming up trumps with a wallet. Not taking his eyes off me, he tossed it my way; quite brutally I might add. With great dignity, I picked it up and flipped it open.
Miami Police Fla. read the badge. I’d seen a couple of those before to know that that part was legit. His photo matched up, and his name was Joseph Lyle Castro. He was a detective.
I kinda hoped he’d lied.
‘Thank you,’ I said, passing him his ID back.
‘Does it check out?’ Ronnie asked.
‘Yeah, it does,’ I replied softly.
Jose- whoops, Castro looked up at me, mildly befuddled.
‘What did you hope to gain from all this?’
‘Probably the same thing as you,’ I shrugged.
Wrong answer. His fists clenched as rage bubbled to the surface again. It was probably never far away.
‘My partner’s dead. Does that mean anything to you?’
‘Angela?’ I asked in surprise.
‘Not Angela,’ he said, his mouth contorting with the effort of saying her name. ‘George.’
For a second, I honestly thought he meant my George. And I was even more confused than he was. Then, it registered. The body delivered to my hotel room. The undercover cop. That I may have helped meet the reaper. That George.
‘I am genuinely sorry,’ I started, biting my tongue as George frantically began waving his hands at me.
‘For the love of God, don’t say “but,”’ he said hastily.
Yeah, he had a point. It probably wouldn’t have gone down well if I’d started claiming my technical innocence. So, I shut up after that, leaving Castro waiting for nothing.
‘Is that all you have to say?’ he asked.
‘Apparently so.’
‘You’re incredible,’ he sighed.
I’d been called that recently, too. I wasn’t sure either time was meant positively, now that I thought about it.
‘Yeah. Look, I’m sorry for how things have turned out. I never meant for any of this to happen,’ I apologized, wrapping it up. ‘I’m going to get on the first flight out of here and leave you to your work, whatever it is.’
Castro looked at me as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Okay, obviously I’d gotten the wrong end of the stick. I thought he’d wanted to yell at me some and then turf me out at the nearest airport. That’s what usually happened, anyway.
‘Destruction of property. Breaking and entering. Concealment of a body,’ he reeled off quietly, his voice breaking slightly at the last one. ‘And, I’m not fully certain of this, but accessory to murder.’
‘Uh, your door was open right now. I d
idn’t break in. I didn’t do that last one, and I already told the other cops that I was afraid.’
‘Yeah, you seem like a real cowardly individual from where I’m sitting.’
I didn’t like where this was going. I get it, he lost his buddy, but it wasn’t really my fault. He was undercover. He must’ve known the risks included murder. Unfortunately for Cop George, he found that out the hard way. That’s all. My conscience was clear.
‘I’ve heard about you, you know,’ Castro went on. ‘I know this isn’t the first time. You don’t need money, you don’t appear to want the fame. What do you want?’
Where all else fails, truth shall prevail.
‘I wanted to bring a killer to justice. Ronnie Higgins came to me a few days ago- actually, he’s sitting right there,’ I said, nodding to the passenger seat. Castro couldn’t help flinching. Let the record show, Ronnie waved. ‘He told me that his wife Angela killed him by whacking him over the head with a bottle and pushing him off the end of a pier. You know, the body that was found on the beach two days ago?’
Castro sat up at something I’d said.
‘Wait a second. That body was Ronald Higgins?’
‘That’s right,’ I nodded, glad I was finally being taken seriously.
‘Ronald went missing a couple months ago, and we didn’t know what happened to him.’
‘Well, you do now. He was walking with his wife at night, when she killed him. He was wearing speedos at the time,’ I noted.
‘Speedos? That’s pretty exact. Are you certain about that?’
‘Yep, pretty certain,’ I answered, forcing my eyes to not look again.
‘So, Ronnie’s here now? In the car,’ he clarified.
I was suspicious, of course, but he actually seemed interested. I felt like I was walking into a trap, but I couldn’t yet see it.
‘Yes, he is.’
‘Can you ask him something?’
‘Sure.’
‘Ask him where he went on February 18th.’