A Trail of Breadcrumbs

by D E Dennis

  The worry on her face had Michael stepping away from Hazel to grasp his mother’s hands. “I talked to her a few hours ago. She was headed to the office to work on something for tonight. She probably lost track of time and is on her way now. I’ll call her.”

  Kimona nodded, squeezing back. “You’re right. I’m sure that’s it. Traffic is a nightmare tonight. You’re right,” she repeated, but she didn’t sound convinced.

  Michael pulled out his phone, dialing his sister immediately. “Don’t worry, Mom. She’s fine.”

  He repeated his assurances as he escorted his mother and Hazel to the table. The call went to voicemail so Michael redialed.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Grimm. I’m...”

  He tuned everything out, focusing on the endless ringing in his ear.

  Why isn’t she answering?

  Maybe her phone is dead, the voice of reason piped up.

  But that doesn’t explain why she’s late, his other internal voice countered.

  Could be car trouble? Could be traffic like Mom said?

  Right... yeah.

  The phone went to voicemail again. Michael lowered his phone and looked across to the stage at the instruments. The drum proudly displaying her band’s name, Happily Ever Afters.

  The phone shook in his clutched hand.

  Monica’s been dreaming of this night for years. She wouldn’t be late for this.

  Michael got to his feet. “Mom, I’m going to run back to the office to see if she’s there.”

  Kimona’s relief was palpable. “Thank you, baby. Call me when you find her.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Glenmore said from his mother’s side.

  “No, Dad. It’s okay. Stay here with Mom.” He looked at Hazel. “I’ll be right—”

  “I’m not staying, Michael.” She picked up her purse and grabbed his arm, tugging him along. “Someone’s got to keep you from panicking.”

  They hurried out of the ballroom, through the front room, and out into the night. Michael flagged down the valet and zoomed off the moment he was behind the wheel.

  I’m being silly. She’s fine. Of course, she’s fine. She’s got car trouble and a dead battery, like I said.

  “I’m sure she’s okay, Michael,” Hazel said, echoing his thoughts.

  “I am too,” he said firmly.

  The ride from Fairy Tails to their office seemed even longer that night. He blew through every yellow light, swerved away from slow drivers, but still it took way too long to pull into their parking lot.

  He didn’t see Monica’s car which he didn’t know if he should take as a good sign. Michael raced out of the car with Hazel on his heels. He burst through the doors calling Monica’s name, but he realized right away no one was there.

  “Michael?”

  He checked Monica’s desk. The computer was still on so he jiggled the mouse to wake it up.

  “She’s not here,” he said out loud, stating the obvious. He poked his head into the bathroom and found a pile of clothes on the floor, makeup scattered on the counter. “But she was. She got ready and then left again. Maybe it was car trouble or—”

  Michael’s pocket started vibrating. He took out his phone and checked the screen.

  Unknown number.

  “Hello? Who is this?”

  “Grimm!”

  Michael yanked the phone away from his ear. “Spencer?”

  “Grimm?! Grimm, are you there?!”

  He put it back. “I’m here. What is it?”

  “Have you spoken to Monica?!”

  “No, she’s not answering. She isn’t at the office either.”

  He cursed. “Michael, she called me hours ago and my blasted phone was dead! I swear I didn’t hear the message until now.”

  Michael tensed, swallowing thickly. “What message?”

  Michael heard movement behind him but didn’t pay it any mind.

  “She said she knew who the killer was and she was going to confront them. She told me to send help if she didn’t call me back in an hour and I don’t have any other messages from her! She didn’t call me back, Michael!”

  “Where did she go?!” he demanded.

  “I don’t recognize it, but she gave me the address. It’s two six—”

  There was shuffling then a shout on the other end of the phone.

  “Michael?”

  “Mira, where is she?!” he bellowed.

  “I’ve sent uniforms to her location, but I am not telling you where it is! You can’t go there alone!”

  “Samira!”

  “You can yell at me all you want, but I’m not having you put yourself in danger.” Her voice was thick with unshed tears. “I’m worried about her too, Michael.”

  “I have to—”

  A beep sounded in his ear, alerting him to a text message. He glanced at the phone, Samira’s cries growing faint, and pulled up the message.

  He blinked. It was from Samira or at least it was from her phone.

  2617 Humperdinck Street. Find her! Spencer

  Michael’s phone slipped out of his hand, clattering to the floor.

  But that address is...

  “Hazel,” he whispered, lips numb.

  Slowly, he turned around just in time to see Monica’s keyboard whiz through the air, aimed directly at his head.

  “Hazel!”

  Pain exploded on the side of his skull and everything went black.

  MONICA FOUGHT. SHE twisted and wriggled and struggled, but Greg plowed on. Flung over his shoulder like a sack, he carried her deeper and deeper into Siren Woods. Every now and then he bent to plant a marker in the ground, but otherwise he made no sound.

  She didn’t know how long they had been walking, but the silence in this part of the woods was absolute. She didn’t hear the buzzing of cicadas or the scurry of creatures.

  Greg came to an abrupt stop and she found herself being pulled off his shoulder and deposited on the ground.

  He stared down at her, eyes cold. “We didn’t want any of this, you know. We just wanted to be left in peace. It was twenty years ago, we’re not going to prison over a couple of brats people barely remember.”

  I’m not interested in your monologue!

  Monica threw her body back, rolling away, but she only got as far as the tree that blocked her. She scraped against the unforgiving bark, wet leaves and dirt sticking to her skin and the beautiful dress no one would ever get to see.

  Laughing at her escaped attempt, Greg stepped toward her, leveling the gun. “This wouldn’t have happened if that reporter had left well enough alone. This is her fault, not ours.”

  As dark as it was, Monica looked at Gregory Antarr’s face and saw his smirk clear as day. The last thing she would ever see would be that hideous smirk.

  “Goodbye, Monica Grimm.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  A shot rang out, shattering the silence.

  Chapter Ten

  MICHAEL CAME TO SLOWLY, the throbbing pain rousing him and bringing him back to consciousness. His forehead ached. He lifted his hand to nurse the area, but his arm did not respond to the command. His hands were bound.

  Peeling his eyes open, Michael was greeted with the sight of his date, Hazel Antarr, heaving the computer tower over her head. He quickly shut his eyes as she threw it down with an ear-piercing crash, the pieces skittering across the floor, one hitting Michael on the nose.

  Monica’s computer was destroyed.

  Michael kept perfectly still. The loose collar around his throat told him his tie was now around his wrists, and a buzzing near his head drew his attention. His phone was silenced but unharmed.

  Opening his eyes just a slit, he peered at Hazel. She was crouched over the remains of the broken computer, picking through them.

  Wriggling his hands, he tested his binds.

  Tight. Too tight to wiggle out—

  Hazel straightened and Michael immediately shut his eyes, falling still.

  Approaching footsteps,
followed by a kick that sent him flopping limply onto his back. Unmoving, Michael felt a weight settle on his torso.

  “I didn’t want to do this, Michael.” Her voice slithered into his ear, making his stomach churn with revulsion. “I got close to you to make sure Greg and I weren’t suspects, but still, you weren’t so bad. I might have made a go of it after getting the ex-fiancée out of the picture. I don’t like to share.” Fingers grasped his chin, turning his head up. “But it doesn’t matter now. It’s either you or me and Greg, and naturally, I choose us.”

  The fingers traveled down his face and settled on his throat. “Bye, bye, Mikey.”

  She squeezed and Michael moved fast. Getting his feet under him, he bucked and sent a surprised Hazel flying. Quickly, he rolled over and scrambled awkwardly to his feet.

  He strained against his bonds as Hazel rose, sneering at him. “I’m not going to prison!” she cried, charging at him.

  Michael twisted away and stuck out his foot. Hazel screeched as she stumbled, flying over Monica’s desk and crashing to the floor with a groan.

  Michael didn’t waste another second. He darted into the kitchenette and dove for the knife sitting innocently on the dish rack. Reaching out, he yanked it up and worked as fast as he could, rubbing the knife’s end against the tie.

  A noise behind him informed him Hazel was stirring. She would be coming after him next. Ripping, tearing, his tie came undone little by little, giving way to the sharp instrument.

  Hazel appeared in the entrance, eyes wild, hair escaping its hold and falling down in her furious face. In her hands was the keyboard, ready to send him back into darkness. She screamed, running at him with the board held high.

  Michael strained, putting every ounce of strength into it, the last few threads snapped and Michael’s arm shot up, catching Hazel as she brought the board down.

  He grabbed her wrists in a grip like iron and spun her around, pinning her arms to her side.

  “Where is she?!” Michael bellowed. “Tell me where Monica is!”

  Hazel laughed. A wild, shrill insane sound. “Where do you think she is, Grimm?!”

  Blood running cold, Michael moved swiftly.

  She screamed, struggled, and cursed him so foully it made his ears bleed, but still he dragged her to the bathroom, threw open the door, and tossed her in. He pressed hard against the door as he hooked Monica’s chair with his foot and dragged it in place, trapping Hazel inside. He stumbled back, grabbed her desk, and heaved that in the chair’s place, effectively stopping her from pushing the bathroom door open.

  Michael ignored her shrieks and demands to be let out. He bent, rescued his phone from the floor, and wasn’t shocked to see he had a dozen calls from Samira.

  The screen lit up in his hand and he answered right away.

  “Michael?! Michael!”

  “I’m here,” he rasped.

  “Michael, where are you?! Are you okay?! I know she went to the home of Hazel and Gregory Antarr! If you are with her, get away! I’m on my way now!”

  “I’m okay,” he replied flatly. “Come to Grimm Investigations. Hazel is trapped in the bathroom.”

  “Michael, do not—”

  “I’m going to get my sister.”

  Michael hung up the phone and left. Stopping in the kitchen before sprinting to his car, throwing himself in, and speeding out of the lot.

  His cell buzzed and buzzed as he zipped through the streets of Castle Rock, but he couldn’t stop. Michael neared Hazel’s home, but he didn’t turn on Humperdinck Street.

  Hazel’s implication was clear. Monica was in the one place he feared to go.

  He hit the brakes with a squeal and the car came to a jerky stop at the edge of the road. He tumbled out. Behind him, he could see the back of Hazel’s house. All Greg would have had to do was drag her out back and enter the woods.

  Siren Woods.

  The woods who claimed everyone who got lost in her depths.

  Except me.

  Michael got out once and he would do it again with Monica whole and safe at his side.

  He drew the knife from his pocket. “Monica?! Monica!”

  Michael darted through the trees, the flashlight on his cellphone lighting his way. He heaved, chest tight, fear closing around his throat.

  “Monica!” he rasped.

  His hands shook, almost dropping the knife, as he stopped and carefully scored an X in the first tree.

  “Monica!?”

  Sweat dripped down his back making his silk shirt cling to him. He stumbled, dropping to his knees, but he picked himself back up and kept running.

  Branches tore at his body as fear tore at everything else, but he wouldn’t turn back. He paused again to mark another tree.

  “Monica! Where are you?”

  “Michael?!”

  He spun around. The knife flew from his hand. “Monica?!”

  “Michael, I’m here!”

  The rustle of someone crashing through the bush had Michael veering to the right. He burst through the trees. Squinting, Michael swept his light over the area until it landed on him.

  Those unnerving gray eyes met his, peering at him over Monica’s head. Michael took one look at the gun slung over his shoulder and his sister, bound and tear-streaked, and he charged at Liam Antarr.

  “Michael! Wait!”

  He tackled him and the three of them went down. He closed his arms around her, freeing her from Antarr’s grasp and scrambled back. He set her behind him and shot to his feet, ready to face him down with nothing but a cellphone, until he heard—

  “Michael, he saved my life!”

  He froze. “W-what?”

  “He saved my life,” Monica cried, gasping. “He’s n-not the Siren Woods Killer. He rescued me from the real one.”

  “Oh...” Michael dropped to his knees, strength deserting him along with the adrenaline. “Okay, then.”

  Final Chapter

  “...SO HE HAD NO IDEA,” Monica said, patting his hand. She was propped up in her hospital bed with Michael by her side. “The twins were hurting their classmates and Antarr didn’t know until one night, Ximena and her mother came over for dinner. His affair with Elena was over, but she still brought Ximena around so that he could see his daughter. That was their deal so that he wouldn’t push for custody and reveal the affair to her husband.

  “So anyway, they come over and Ximena was the same little charmer we’ve come to know. She threw a fit over having to eat vegetables and tossed her juice in Hazel’s face. When Hazel complained, Ximena stuck her tongue out at her. She did not take it well.”

  Michael sighed. “Please don’t tell me...”

  “The twins were going to kill their own sister. They didn’t know who she really was, but all the same, Liam passed by their room that night and heard them talking. They were making plans to do to her what they had done to Irina, Nicholas, and Andrea.”

  She shook her head. “He was horrified. He couldn’t believe that his children were capable of such terrible acts, but he didn’t know what to do. If he turned them in, the whole world would brand them as twisted or sociopaths. A label that would cling to them for the rest of their lives. He didn’t want that for them, but he couldn’t allow them to hurt anyone else, so he—”

  “Took them into the woods one day and abandoned them,” Michael finished. “Thinking it was the only way to end it without anyone knowing what they had done.”

  “Yes.” Monica leaned back into the pillow, eyes cast up to the ceiling. “But then of course, Rowan saw and she rescued them. Liam was arrested and he took his punishment, not saying a word.”

  “It’s so obvious now,” Michael said, a bitter smile on his lips. “The murders didn’t stop because Antarr went away. They stopped because the twins were sent to live with a distant relative.”

  She nodded. “And the only reason he returned to the town that despised him was because Gregory and Hazel did. He was the only one who knew the truth. He had to keep an eye on them
.”

  “You two had a nice little chat on your way through the woods.”

  She chuckled. “Well, he kind of had to give me an explanation. I heard the shot and Gregory crying out. When I wrenched my eyes open, Greg was on the ground clutching his leg and Liam was standing over us, gun in hand. I thought he was going to finish what he started twenty years ago and add me to the body count, so I freaked. He came clean to earn my trust.”

  Michael nodded, squeezing her hand. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  She gave him a smile. “I can’t believe you came to rescue me. In Siren Woods. At night. With only a flashlight.”

  “I also subdued a killer and locked her in our bathroom,” he added with a grin. “And you said I didn’t know how to do anything but make hollandaise sauce.”

  They laughed but Michael soon turned serious.

  “Of course I came to rescue you. Siren Woods doesn’t scare me even half as much as the thought of losing you.”

  Eyes bright, she ducked her head. “Don’t make me cry.”

  He laughed. “Okay, then how about this to cheer you up.” Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. “Your present.”

  “They’re little microphones,” she gushed. “Aw, bro. These are so cute.”

  She immediately took her earrings off and replaced them with her new ones. “I love them. I just wish I got to—”

  The hospital door banged open, making them jump.

  “Spencer, calm down,” Samira exclaimed, but the man shot past her and burst into the room. He didn’t slow down or stop for breath. He marched straight up to Monica’s bed, bent down, and captured her lips in a passionate kiss that had Michael shooting away from the bed.

  “Hey!” he sputtered, jumping to his feet. “What the—”

  Monica threw her arms around Spencer, pulling him in and deepening Michael’s confusion. “What is happening?!”

  Samira crossed the room, caught hold of his arm, and dragged him out. “We should give them some privacy.”

  Michael followed her out, jaw hanging open. “Am I missing something?” he asked, pointing at the door Samira closed behind them.