Elixir

by Charles Atkins

  It was a straight-forward question, but Frank knew he was far from OK. ‘I’m not hurt bad.’ And argued the point with a spasm of coughs.

  Sean returned with clean sheets stamped with the logo of the volunteer ambulance company. He draped one over Frank and handed the other to Grace. ‘You’re burned. Let me see your hands.’

  ‘They’ll blister,’ Frank said. ‘Second degree at the worst.’ He looked at Grace, there were soot marks beneath her nostrils and her eyebrows were gone. ‘What about you?’

  She nodded, and raised a finger as she tried to speak. She rasped, ‘OK. Not great.’ She closed her mouth and swallowed.

  ‘I’ll get you some water,’ the male trooper said.

  Grace nodded and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Can you give a statement?’ the woman trooper asked. She looked at Grace, ‘Maybe let him do the talking for now.’

  ‘Sure,’ Frank said.

  She pulled out a notepad. ‘How did you and Dr Lewis come to be here?’

  And so, began the lies. He was glad that Grace was there, so she could tell the same story. ‘She’d been hiking, and called me. She’d had an accident. I knew where she was, we’d been here before. I saw the barn on fire. I dialed her phone and heard the ring. So I went in.’

  ‘Where were you when she called?’

  ‘The UNICO labs at Hollow Hills.’

  ‘You have people who can verify your presence there?’

  ‘Yes, many.’

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘And when you got here, you figured she was inside.’ Her tone was skeptical.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you went in.’

  ‘Yes.’

  She looked back at her partner as he returned to the shelter with a six-pack of waters. ‘Yesterday you nearly died in a car accident.’

  ‘True.’ Frank took a careful sip of water. The cool liquid burned his throat.

  She looked to Grace. ‘Is that what happened?’

  Grace nodded, took a sip, winced and said, ‘I fell into the cellar. I must have blacked out.’

  The trooper noted it down and turned back to Frank. ‘And your mother, who killed your father with an axe just escaped from her mental hospital.’

  ‘It was a hammer, but yeah.’

  She looked at Sean, who stood glued to Frank’s side. ‘Something of a danger magnet.’

  ‘No kidding,’ Sean said.

  ‘You’re a detective, right?’

  ‘Brookline Mass.’

  ‘Investigating a homicide of a professor,’ the trooper stated.

  ‘Jackson Atlas.’

  ‘Don’t you think,’ she said, ‘there’s a lot of smoking guns around Dr Garfield?’

  ‘Yeah, working on it,’ Sean said.

  ‘How did the fire start?’ she asked Frank.

  ‘I don’t know. From the color of the smoke I’d say there was something combustible.’

  ‘Like an accelerant?’ her previously silent partner asked.

  ‘Yeah. I can smell it.’

  ‘That’ll be for the marshal to determine. You think it was set?’ he asked.

  ‘I didn’t see anything, but …’ Frank cursed himself for not keeping it simple. I was looking for my friend in trouble. Found her. Got her out. Why the fuck did I have to say accelerant?

  ‘But what?’

  Frank stalled. They’re watching me. He looked around. A barn on fire, woods, the sound of the swollen river, rain pounding and drip drip dripping into the trough from holes in the roof. ‘Have they found my mother?’

  ‘Not that we’re aware,’ the trooper said.

  ‘I need to get out of here. We all do.’

  ‘Good point,’ her partner said. ‘We’ll escort you and Doctor Lewis.’

  ‘Not necessary,’ Frank said.

  ‘We can keep you safe,’ she said, believing the threat to be from his mother.

  ‘Like witness protection?’

  ‘It’s not the worst idea,’ Sean said.

  ‘I can’t. I’ve got six sick kids at Hollow Hills. I can’t just leave them.’

  ‘At least tell us where you’re going,’ the officer said.

  It was a good question. For which Frank had no answer. He started to hack and couldn’t stop. ‘Back to my place.’

  ‘Not the lab?’ she asked.

  ‘Not right now.’

  ‘You’re being deliberately vague,’ she said.

  ‘No. I need some space.’

  ‘You should go to the hospital,’ her partner said. ‘You both should.’

  Frank shrugged. ‘I got some burns and some inhalation. I’m a doctor, I know what to do for that.’ And we’d be sitting ducks for my mother … the Langs.

  Sean grunted. ‘A doctor who treats himself has an idiot for a patient.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Frank said.

  ‘You going to stay with them?’ the trooper asked Sean.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘No. Take Grace and get out of here,’ Frank said without, conviction.

  Grace said, ‘No.’ And would have said more but had to fight to hold back another wave of coughs.

  ‘Not a debate.’ Sean turned to the trooper. ‘We’ll get a hotel room, something his mother wouldn’t expect.’

  ‘I guess that can do for now. Though I don’t feel good about it,’ the trooper said.

  They arranged a time for the following day for Frank and Grace to give statements. ‘We can have the marshal there so you only have to do it the one time. That is, if everything checks out.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Frank said.

  The trio stood and watched as the troopers headed back into the rain.

  ‘Now what?’ Grace rasped.

  Frank looked from her to Sean.

  ‘We nail the Langs,’ Sean said.

  ‘You don’t know who you’re dealing with,’ Frank whispered.

  ‘I’ve an idea,’ he said. ‘They’re super rich and have done horrible things for a long time, gotten away with all of it, and think nothing of murder.’

  ‘They’re not stupid. Leona is brilliant, and Dalton …’

  ‘Is a narcissistic prick,’ Grace added, and proceeded to hack.

  ‘Have you seen his YouTube stuff?’ Sean asked.

  ‘No. Why?’

  ‘He thinks he’s a singer. Kind of Edgar Alan Poe meets Justin Bieber. It’s strange.’

  ‘They’ve watched me for months,’ Frank said.

  Sean stared at the fire. The last of the barn walls fell, flames and coals sizzled and sparked in the rain. ‘You’re supposed to be dead,’ he said to Grace. ‘I’m not so sure about you, but what if you both were killed?’

  ‘They’ll know it’s not true,’ Frank said. ‘I’m sure they’re monitoring the emergency band.’

  ‘Good point,’ Sean said. ‘But maybe not. You said they’ve been watching you for months.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘There are easier ways to do that. You got your cell? And Grace, you?’

  They pulled them out.

  ‘Give them to me,’ Sean said. He gripped them tight and hurled them into the fire.

  ‘What the hell?’ Frank said.

  ‘How do you think I followed you? Your GPS and God knows what else they’ve planted on your phone. You and Grace end here. If they think you’re dead, it could buy us time.’ He looked back at the police cruiser. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

  ‘What?’ Frank asked. And wondered, is tracking your boyfriend normal behavior?

  ‘It wouldn’t hurt to have something on the emergency bands about fatalities … but no.’

  ‘We got to be careful,’ Frank said. ‘Those children, their families … Jackson was right and I should have listened.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ Sean said. ‘You couldn’t have known about the Langs.’

  ‘He tried to warn me.’

  ‘We’ll deal with that later,’ Sean said. ‘We need to end this.’

  ‘Dalton tried to kill me,’ Grace wheezed
. ‘Isn’t that enough?’

  ‘You got witnesses? Evidence?’ Sean asked. ‘He said/she said won’t even buy an arrest warrant. And where’s the motive? By the time anyone listens, you’ll be out-lawyered … and Frank’s right, they’d use those kids as leverage. You willing to risk that?’

  She shook her head no.

  ‘There’s got to be a way,’ Sean said. He looked back at the fire. ‘Frank, you got here after the fire had been set.’

  ‘Yeah, Dalton told me where I’d find Grace. He neglected to mention the bits about the fire, or that she was underground.’

  ‘He knew you’d try to save her.’

  ‘Yes. And that we’d both die and it would look like an accident.’

  Sean shook his head. ‘That part doesn’t jive. Too iffy. Grace was toast.’

  She jabbed him in the ribs.

  ‘Sorry, bad word choice. You are lucky to be alive. You both are. So even if Dalton knew you’d go in the barn, he’d have no way of knowing the outcome.’

  ‘See that’s the part you don’t get, Sean. He’s watching … everything.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Sean said. ‘But if he had something on your phone, it’s gone. There are no cameras out here. He’d be stupid to leave that kind of evidence, and he’s not stupid. But he left your fate up to chance. Why?’

  Frank hesitated. ‘I think he likes me.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ Sean said. ‘Something you haven’t told me.’

  ‘He tried to kiss me.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Back in Boston. It’s not important.’

  ‘Just a kiss?’

  ‘Yeah. I told him no and …’ His words trailed off.

  ‘Out with it,’ Sean said. ‘What aren’t you saying?’

  ‘He’s said a couple things. But I thought that was just part of his sales pitch to get me to work for them. And we really need to get out of here.’

  ‘Understood, we’ll take my car.’ Sean looked around. ‘If they’re good at surveillance you know they’ve got the UNICO vehicles wired.’

  ‘Where to?’ Frank asked.

  ‘We take it to them,’ Sean said. ‘They can’t see it coming. I’d say our boy Dalton is the weaker link. We need evidence, something airtight. And we have to get those kids and their families out of here.’

  ‘Too many maybes.’ Frank clutched the sheet around his shoulders; he stopped at the edge of the shelter, sheets of water beaded down. ‘I made this mess. I have to clean it up.’

  Grace came up behind him and rasped, ‘Don’t be stupid.’

  ‘Sean, please get her out of here. The minute they know she’s not dead …’

  ‘Not leaving,’ she croaked.

  ‘Neither am I,’ Sean said. ‘We stick together, we don’t rush into anything, we track down Dalton, and yes, lots of maybes. But it’s what we’ve got.’

  FORTY

  Dalton pulled into the lot behind the Inn at Merryvale. He had to do something soon with Candace Garfield’s body before it reeked. But between the rain and the cool, he figured it could wait until tonight, maybe morning. He pulled up his GPS tracker for Grace, Frank, and a few others, including his mother and grandmother.

  ‘Shit.’ Not what he’d expected. Both Frank and Grace were at the barn, which meant they were dead. ‘You’re not gay.’ Frank is special … was special. A dull ache throbbed in his chest. He grabbed a pad and pen from the passenger seat and scribbled.

  Blood red chrysanthemum too soon we part.

  Blood red chrysanthemum, how could I know

  I had given you my heart?

  ‘Not bad. Needs pruning, but good hook and decent end.’ He stared at his words, and then at the rain as it ran down his windshield. Frank’s death ate at him. It’s what she wanted. He glanced at the GPS. Why is she here? He spotted her white BMW in the lot.

  Moisture welled in the corners of his eyes. He flicked back a tear and then another. ‘What the fuck have I done?’ Not prone to fits of conscience, an inventory of his recent deeds, from killing Jackson, his biological father, to Frank and Grace’s fiery deaths, made him reflect. Why do I let her do this? Why am I sitting in the rain, in Connecticut, with a dead body in my trunk? What the fuck is wrong with this picture?

  Maybe Frank’s not dead. What if he’s hurt? You can’t go back, that’s for amateurs.

  He tapped another app and scrolled to the local emergency band. The frequency crackled and the reception was poor, whether because of the lack of towers or the rain, he couldn’t figure. He strained to hear reports of the fire and if they’d found the bodies in the cellar. ‘Useless.’

  He stayed rooted as emotions swirled, disquiet, sadness, regret … but something else. ‘Why is she still here?’ Their last conversation fresh in his mind. Her promise to let him pursue his music, her absurd suggestion that he could become the face of UNICO. ‘Anthem my ass. She’s up to something.’

  This felt familiar, the never-ending chess game with Leona. They’ll find the bodies and she’ll do what? Grandma Karen’s voice rang in his head. ‘Whatever Leona wants, Leona gets.’ And now that she’s got Frank’s formula, what next? Who next?

  He pressed the ignition start and headed out of the lot. As he turned onto 202, she called.

  He thought to ignore it, but pressed Accept, after first hitting a recorder app on his cell.

  ‘Where are you?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m going to visit Grandma Karen.’

  ‘What in God’s name for? I need you here.’

  ‘Yes, well we don’t always get what we want.’

  ‘We had an agreement, Dalton. No more fighting, no more games.’

  ‘Why are you still in my rooms?’

  ‘I’m waiting for you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m your mother. I don’t need a reason.’

  ‘I did what you wanted. That should be enough.’

  He heard her sigh. ‘I’m glad. I had concerns. You had feelings for him.’

  ‘What happens now?’ he asked, hating how well she read him.

  ‘Wait for the story and then control the spin.’

  ‘We need to have our stories synced,’ he said.

  ‘Yes. Which is why you should be here … with me.’

  ‘What about those test subjects and their families. Seems like a lot of loose ends, especially if you want to control Frank’s elixir.’ His throat choked.

  ‘Done and done,’ she said.

  He held his breath, wondering just how far she’d already gone … would go. Say it, Mother. What have you done?

  ‘Yes?’ He pressed, hoping she’d say something incriminating that he’d catch and record.

  ‘Standard stuff. Airtight confidentiality agreements.’

  ‘He’s altered their genes.’

  ‘No, just tightened them up.’

  ‘No one could examine their cells and reproduce the process?’ He had nothing.

  ‘No. End of the day he had a clever little trick. It’s why no one else has done it, but we can.’

  ‘And if one, or more, of them broke confidentiality and told of the experiment … which was never approved or even registered with the FDA—’

  ‘Shit happens.’ She’s angry. ‘Enough of the questions and get back here. There’s work to be done.’

  ‘We can do it over the phone. I’m tired of this place. I’m going to check on Grandma and then head back to the city.’

  ‘I see … you know there’s a witness.’

  ‘To what?’

  ‘You were seen with Grace Lewis before the fire. A stupid mistake.’

  ‘By who?’

  ‘Some kid who lives across from her. There’s things you need to know and now is not the time for one of your adolescent tantrums.’

  He gripped the wheel. Why did she always have to get the upper hand? ‘I’ll be there in twenty.’

  ‘Good.’

  He ended the call, slowed and pulled into an entrance to White Memorial State Park. What is her game? It felt famil
iar. This is what she does … before she gets rid of someone. Point the blame and shoot to kill.

  It’s her or me. It was funny. One dead mother in the trunk of his car. It was spacious. It could hold two. A queer lightness washed over him. It was unexpected. Life without Mother. I could be who I want. Do what I want … and have all the money in the world to make it happen.

  If this is how you want to play it, Mother.

  He made a surgical j-turn in the muddy parking lot and headed back to the inn at Merryvale.

  FORTY-ONE

  ‘Everything feels wrong.’ Sean wiped the condensation from the windshield. He’d cut the engine and the lights and concealed his Jeep next to a wisteria-covered arbor behind Dalton’s rented cottage. The rain crackled like pebbles on the roof.

  ‘I know,’ Frank admitted. The heat was cranked up and Sean had retrieved sweats and Brookline PD T-shirts from a gym bag in the back for Grace and Frank. ‘You tell me there’s any other way and we do it. We’ve got to confront them. Tell them to stop or we go public with everything.’ His teeth chattered.

  ‘I’m trying,’ Sean said. ‘I don’t see it …’ He peered through binoculars as a black BMW turned in. ‘And enter Lang number two.’

  They watched as Dalton parked beside his mother’s car in the lot behind his two-story cottage at the renowned inn.

  Through the lens of a high-power camera on video mode, Sean saw the trunk pop and Dalton emerge from the driver’s side.

  ‘What the fuck?’ he said. ‘There’s something in the trunk.’ The rain and now Dalton’s back made it hard to see. He zoomed in and recorded images of what appeared to be a pair of feet one bare and the other in a grimy sock. ‘Not something … someone. And whoever it is, they ain’t moving.’

  Before he could get a clearer shot, Dalton reached in, grabbed a black briefcase, and slammed the lid.

  ‘Merry Christmas,’ Sean whispered. ‘We just got lucky. And he got sloppy.’

  ‘What?’ Frank asked.

  Sean grinned. ‘You can’t get redder handed than a person, alive or dead, in your trunk.’ Kidnap or murder, either will put an end to Dalton. Sean pulled out his cell and made fast calls. First to the FBI agents he’d lunched with. He gave them the address, GPS coordinates, make, model and license plate of Dalton’s vehicle.

  ‘Isn’t this enough for probable cause?’ Grace asked.