“I hate the dark,” Jasmine whispered in a scared voice, “I hate it...” Feeling trapped, she eased back into the garage and studied the lightbulb hanging down from the bare wire. The lightbulb called her name and promised safety until either Andrea or some of her girls returned. “I don't know what happened to the two girls who went over to the store,” she said in a worried voice. “They would have shot the prisoners dead by now…which means only one thing...” Jasmine closed her eyes. “I should have killed them all when I had the chance. This is all your fault, Andrea...and you're going to suffer the consequences. I'm going to have my bottling plant and make my fortune and no one is going to stand in my way. Come morning, you die...”
Far away, Andrea was slowly walking across the rugged land with two concerned women following close behind her. Andrea stopped when she reached the ravine, crawled down a wooden ladder, entered a narrow tunnel, followed the tunnel to a large cave, and then walked out of the cave and entered a land that was hidden from the world; a land that was dry and miserable but blessedly hidden. “Go gather the tribe,” she told the two women who followed her out of the cave. “We must have a meeting.” The two women walked away into the dark land, following a dimly lit trail of weak torches, and vanished. “We are never going to leave this land,” Andrea whispered in a tormented voice and thought about Momma Peach. “You are my only hope...I can't give up on you. You have to rescue us from this misery.”
Momma Peach didn't hear Andrea. She was too busy letting Michelle cut her wrists free.
8
Momma Peach rubbed her wrist and then looked down at the floor. Alistair's body was missing. “What about poor Patrick?” she asked.
“Both gone,” Grace said, walking back into the living room from the back bedroom. “They must have taken the bodies to bury them.”
“Or hide the bodies until they can be buried,” Momma Peach pointed out. “From what I understand, these womenfolk hiding around these parts don't like to mess around in the dark. No sir and no ma’am. They may be the shadow people, but they don’t much care for the nighttime shadows.”
Michelle eased the front door open and glanced outside. “The coast is clear,” she said. “We need to leave while we still can.”
Momma Peach didn't want to leave the house. The house, as small and depressing as it was, offered shelter and light. But a chore had to be carried out, and she wasn't about to back down. “Listen,” she told Michelle and Grace, “it don't matter what kind of trouble poor Patrick got himself into or what kind of people he got messed up with. I knew him as a funny, charming, sweet man and he didn't deserve to be shot.”
“We can't arrest these women, Momma Peach,” Grace pointed out. “And my co-workers surely aren't going to break a sweat over the murders of four men who mean nothing to them or this land.”
“Which leaves the U.S. Embassy,” Michelle pointed out.
Momma Peach shook her head. “I’ve been doing some thinking,” she said. “It doesn’t seem fitting to my mind to contact the embassy no more.”
“Why not?” Michelle asked. “Isn't your plan to become the new Mother and force the women to give themselves up?”
“Well,” Momma Peach said and made a reluctant face that looked like she took a bite out of a sour lemon. “I—” Momma Peach stopped talking. “Uh...oh,” she cried out, grabbed her stomach, and hauled butt toward the bathroom.
“Now?” Michelle asked in disbelief.
“Now...oh, yes sir and yes ma’am...now!” She cried out in pain, slammed the bathroom door closed. “Oh...the Tabasco sauce is finally going to do me in!”
Grace sighed, leaned back against the living room wall, and looked at Michelle. “She's going to be a while.”
“Yep,” Michelle nodded.
Grace studied Michelle. She saw a woman she respected and admired. “Tell me what your life is like back in America?” she asked. “As long as we have a few minutes.”
“Oh...light a match, y’all!” Momma Peach yelled in agony.
Michelle winced. “Uh...well,” she said, trying to tune out poor Momma Peach for a second, “I'm the senior detective...the only detective...in the little town I live in,” she began and glanced outside. “I've known Momma Peach for many years. Momma Peach is like a mother to me.”
“I can tell you two love each other very deeply,” Grace told Michelle. “You two make a really good team, too.”
“Momma Peach is a brilliant detective—unofficially, of course,” Michelle explained. “She helps me on all of my cases...and has a really mean swing when she's carrying her pocketbook.” Michelle kept her eyes peeled on the dark night, searching for any signs of human life and hoping Momma Peach was right about Jasmine being scared of the dark. So far it appeared that she was right: Jasmine was trapped inside the garage, clinging to a weak light source. “We have family back home...well, not blood family, but people whose love runs deeper than blood.”
“Must be nice,” Grace told Michelle in a voice that slipped out sad. “All of my family has...passed. Patty was the only family I had left.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be,” Grace said, trying to force her voice to sound tough instead of sad. “Patty and I weren't as close as we could have been. Near the end, his mind was far away from me. He only called me because he needed help. I guess Patty was hoping he might get me to go after Heath Marshall. I'm not sure what Patty really wanted, but that's my guess.”
“Patrick Walker makes you go after Heath Marshall while he tries to manipulate Momma Peach into becoming the mother of those women in the shadows,” Michelle told Grace and kinda shrugged her shoulders. “Makes sense...could be right or wrong...who knows? We don't have any evidence except for what Andrea told Momma Peach inside the store.”
“I don't have any reason to believe that woman is lying.”
“Me neither,” Michelle agreed.
“Oh...what I wouldn’t give for a dose of Imodium...” Momma Peach cried out. “Why didn’t I bring some?”
Michelle looked at Grace and fought back a grin. “Momma Peach is...special.”
Grace fought back her own grin. “Yes, I can tell that she is very special,” she said and looked toward the bathroom. “I can tell that she loves you in a way that only a mother can.”
Michelle began to reply but movement caught her eye. Someone was standing behind Patrick's truck. “Grace...we have company,” she whispered, closed the front door, locked it and then hurried back to the bathroom. “Momma Peach, we have company. You have to get out.”
Momma Peach reached for a roll of toilet paper. “Oh no, I done went and used up all the toilet paper when I was in here the last time!”
Grace moaned, ran to the living room window, pulled back the curtain, and saw over ten women begin surrounding the house. “We're not going anywhere!” she yelled at Michelle and then knocked off the living room light. “Look!”
Michelle ran to the living room window and peered out. She saw what appeared to be a squad of women rushing from one location to the next, forming a tight offensive perimeter. “They're all holding torches,” Grace pointed out. “I think they're planning to burn us out.”
“Momma Peach, you better get out here!” Michelle yelled. “We might have a bonfire on our hands in a minute!”
“Oh...this is a bad pickle…” Momma Peach whimpered. She searched the bathroom with frantic eyes and then leaned forward and pulled open a cabinet door under the kitchen sink. And there, to her relief, was one single roll of toilet paper. “I’ll be out in a second!” Momma Peach hustled to finish up as fast as she could. As she prepared to stand up, a rock crashed through the bathroom window. Seconds later, some kind of dried plant material that had been set on fire followed. The plant landed in the bathtub and began letting out the worst smell Momma Peach had ever come into contact with. “What a sti...” she began to say and then simply slumped forward on the toilet.
“Momma Peach!” Michelle yelled after hearing the rock c
rash through the bathroom window. She ran to the bathroom door, kicked it open, and prepared to charge in. But then the smell from the burning plant struck her nose. “Momma Peach...” Michelle whispered, spotting Momma Peach leaning forward on the toilet. Then she, too, crashed down onto the floor.
Grace, catching a scent of the foul smell, quickly covered her nose with her shirt, ran into the hallway, and without wasting any time, crawled up into a very small attic just as the front door was kicked open by Andrea.
Andrea held a bucket of water in one hand and a handkerchief over her nose with her other hand. She marched into the bathroom, tossed the water on the plant to douse the flames, and ordered two of her girls to drag Momma Peach and Michelle outside. One of the women asked about Grace. Andrea searched the house briefly before answering.
“The other woman must have escaped. There is no point in trying to find her. We have the woman we want,” Andrea announced to all of the women holding torches. “The rest of you,” she said and pointed around, “go back to town and get my sister. Bring her to the village. Take this woman,” Andrea pointed at Michelle, “into town with you and leave her asleep in the garage. See that no harm comes to her.” Andrea pointed at four other women. “Your four, take this woman to the village. Do not harm her. She is going to be…your new Mother.” All the women looked at each other with shocked eyes and then ran over to Momma Peach, dropped their torches, and began kissing her hands and forehead. “Hurry, take this woman away,” Andrea begged. All the women, as beautiful and brave as they were, looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. “I know,” Andrea nearly wept, “I know...my sweet girls. Now...hurry.” The women hurried to obey Andrea's commands, filled with joy and excitement.
Andrea watched four of the women drag Michelle away, and the rest of the women picked Momma Peach up with great care and love and carried her away into the darkness. Once she was alone, Andrea walked back into the house, went into the hallway, and looked up at the attic. “It is safe to come down now,” she called out in a weary voice. “No one is going to harm you.”
Grace hesitated and then decided to leave the attic. She removed the small piece of plywood covering the crawl space, peered down at Andrea, and then jumped down. “You knew I was in the attic. Why didn't you take me captive again?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. Just leave this place and never come back,” Andrea ordered Grace. “I do not wish to harm anyone else. If you come back, you will die.”
Grace stared into Andrea's tormented eyes and then looked down at the woman's hands. Andrea wasn't holding any form of weapon. “Four men are dead,” she said in a regretful voice. “I'm a cop...and I have a job to do.” Grace dropped down into a fighting position. “I'm placing you under arrest...so we can either do this the hard way or the easy way.”
Andrea felt anger flash through her eyes. “I gave you an easy chance to escape. I will not let anyone harm my girls,” she warned Grace and without warning threw a hard front kick into the air. Grace quickly blocked the kick and countered with a leg sweep. Andrea jumped over Grace's leg, landed in a low crouch, and punched Grace in her stomach.
Grace stumbled backward into the bathroom and landed up against the back wall. “I guess we're doing this the hard way,” Grace gasped and prepared for battle.
Outside in the dark, Michelle slowly began to wake up. The plant that had knocked her unconscious only held power to keep a person harmless for a matter of minutes.
“What...where...” Michelle whispered, feeling different hands holding her up by the arms and legs. One of the women carrying Michelle noticed that Michelle was coming around. She said something in a strange language that Michelle didn't understand. The other three women stopped walking and dropped Michelle down onto the hard ground. Michelle landed on her back and, in a daze, looked up into their shadowy faces. As she did, the image of Momma Peach slumped over on the toilet burst into her mind. “Momma Peach,” she whispered in a panicked voice.
One of the women said something. The other three women nodded their heads and without warning began trying to kick Michelle. Michelle didn't know it but the woman who had given the order was the same woman she had kicked unconscious in front of Evan's store.
“Hey...now...stop...” Michelle yelled and began blocking the kicks. Realizing that she was in trouble she quickly grabbed one of the legs trying to kick her and then kicked away a second leg and then a third, but was unable to stop a fourth leg from making contact with her rib. “That's gonna hurt,” Michelle groaned and then, with as much power as possible, pushed the leg she was holding away with enough force to knock the owner off balance, and then flipped to her legs just in time to miss a second kick to the ribs. She was greeted by three furious women who immediately attacked her.
Michelle dropped down into a fighting position and began fighting back. She dodged a kick, swept one woman off her feet, came up, missed a punch, kicked a second woman in her stomach, swung out of the way of a third kick, dropped down and double-punched a third woman in her thighs. When the third woman dropped down onto the ground, Michelle rolled back and knocked the woman unconscious with a hard kick and then jumped to her feet. She was met by the woman whose leg she had held in her iron grip earlier. The woman let out a wild cry and began throwing wild, vicious punches at Michelle. Michelle backed up a few feet and then, with a skill that terrified the woman, executed a vicious roundhouse kick. The woman went flying into the air, crashed into her friends, and fell unconscious. The woman Michelle had kicked in front of Evan's store screamed, jumped to her feet, and charged at Michelle. She was greeted by another roundhouse kick.
The last woman standing turned and fled into the darkness, leaving Michelle standing alone. “Nice workout,” Michelle said, breathing hard, and began to run back toward Patrick's house, unaware that Grace was just then in a battle for her life.
Andrea let out a mighty scream and kicked Grace in the face. Grace went flying back into the bathroom and crashed down onto the floor. “No...get up...gotta fight,” she whispered, struggling to remain conscious. Ignoring her pain, Grace struggled to her feet and blocked a hard kick just in time. Andrea threw another hard kick, but Grace managed to block it again and counter with a hard punch to the face. Andrea stumbled out of the bathroom, felt her face, and then glared at Grace.
“Give it up,” Grace warned her. “You're going to jail...one way or another.”
Andrea backed into the living room. She needed more space to fight. “You will die,” she promised Grace. “You leave me no other choice.”
Grace carefully eased into the short hallway and watched Andrea step through the front door. “Outside we go, then,” she said, feeling every inch of her body crying out in pain.
Andrea backed up to Patrick's truck and waited for Grace. When Grace stepped through the front door, she crouched down and prepared to attack. As she did, a shadow crawled out from under the truck, snuck up behind Andrea, and stuck a rifle to her back. “Don’t move. I don't want to kill you, but I will,” Evan warned Andrea in a voice that made her blood run cold.
Grace saw Evan and let out a sigh of relief. “I was wondering where you were,” she said in a grateful voice and smiled. Her smile quickly vanished when she saw Andrea slide down into a split, grab Evan's rifle, yank it from his hands, and roll away to safety before she could say two words.
Andrea jumped to her feet and ordered Evan to stand close to Grace. “You both die now,” she said and prepared to fire the rifle. Grace and Evan cowered together and waited for the inevitable.
Michelle saw Andrea grab the rifle and prepare to shoot poor Grace and Evan. She was too far away to stop her, so she quickly bent down, grabbed a small rock and, with a scream, flung the rock at Andrea with all of her might. The rock went thundering through the air and zoomed in on Andrea. Andrea turned just in time to see the rock flying at her face...and then everything went dark.
The woman collapsed to the ground, a trickle of blood coming from her temple, and the rifle dro
pped from her senseless hands.
“You did it!” Grace screamed in relief as Andrea collapsed down onto the ground.
Evan quickly scooped up the rifle and then checked on Andrea. “She has a bad gash on her forehead. I'll need to stop the bleeding. Here, take the rifle.”
Grace took the rifle. “You stop her bleeding,” she told Evan, watching Michelle run over. “But tie her up first. Michelle and I have to go after Momma Peach.”
“You'll never find her,” Evan warned. He pointed into the darkness. “These women have been hiding on this land unseen and unheard for decades. Momma Peach...is gone.”
“No, she isn't,” Michelle snapped at Evan and threw her eyes back toward town. “I know of a way to find Momma Peach. Come on, Grace.”
Grace nodded. “Evan, tie this dangerous croc up, top to bottom,” she begged. “Don't worry about her bleeding until you have her secure. She's very dangerous.”
Evan looked down at Andrea. She was such a lovely woman. It was a shame that her life's passion had to be destroyed by becoming companions with murder. “You two get out of here and go see if you can find Momma Peach. If you can't...come back and get me. We'll search the land together.”
Michelle patted Evan's shoulder. “You're okay, Evan,” she said and jogged off. Grace smiled at Evan and hurried after Michelle. “That black widow in town is our only chance,” she told Grace.
“What's the plan?” Grace asked, feeling full of energy and a deep passion for battle. For once in her life the good guys were actually winning, and she was on the winning team.
“The woman in town is armed,” Michelle pointed out, keeping up a steady pace as sweat poured down from her forehead and stung her eyes. “I'm going to use you as bait, okay?”
Grace didn't like the idea of being used as bait, but she trusted Michelle. “Okay...partner,” she nodded.
“Partner?” Michelle asked. She turned her head and looked at Grace. “Yeah, I guess we are partners, aren't we?” she actually smiled.
Not Peachy, Mate Page 12