Finding Home

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Finding Home Page 18

by Rachel Smith


  My head bobbed again, bouncing from one shoulder to the other as I struggled to stay conscious.

  The screeching of metal against the concrete jolted me to attention, causing a surge of adrenaline to blast through my veins. It was enough to help me open my eyes and see the sound came from a folding chair. The tan, metal kind you’d sit on at a school function.

  The man placed it in front of me and sat down, his head bent toward the ground.

  He pulled a white handkerchief from the inside pocket of his coat. With meticulous precision, he wiped the blade, cleaning off the blood.

  My blood.

  My life.

  The very essence of my being smeared across the slab of metal in his hands.

  I willed my heartbeat to slow down, hoping the calm would help conserve blood. At the rate it was seeping from my stab wound, I knew I didn’t have long.

  I never imagined this is how my life would end. I was supposed to be old and frail, tucked into a warm bed and surrounded by my loved ones.

  Not like this.

  Never like this; with blood spilling from my body onto a cold, dirty floor. My arms tied to a wooden pole of some sort, being held against my will to die all alone.

  “Who are you?” I managed to croak, my voice hoarse from all the screaming I had done earlier when I was plucked from my office at gunpoint and brought here.

  Hell, I didn’t even know where ‘here’ was. A building of some sort. An old house…maybe a barn?

  The man stood up from the chair and sauntered toward me. He’d removed the mask but had a hat pulled so low over his eyes, I still couldn’t see his face.

  “Show me,” I whispered. “At least let me see who you are before you kill me.”

  His chin lifted and my breath faltered.

  No.

  Not him.

  Of all people, how could it be him?

  “You… how… why would you do this to me?”

  The knife plunged in my gut again, the pain so unbearable it caused bile to rise in my throat. I gagged, hoping it would end soon. Praying God would put me out of my misery.

  “Tell me,” I choked out, unable to keep the inevitable darkness from closing in.

  “Because,” he sneered, his face so close to mine I could feel his spittle against my cheek. “You ruined my sister’s life.”

  As if by instinct, my eyes opened. “I don’t even know your sister,” I mumbled as they closed again.

  He let out an evil laugh and answered, “Oh, I think my baby sister would disagree, you little tramp.”

  His words floated into my ears as flashes of my life seemed to swirl inside my brain. Pictures of what once was. Snapshots of what could have been.

  The loss of blood had left me confused, unable to process his words.

  I wasn’t a tramp; I was in love with the town’s hot cop.

  We had plans. So many plans. Of happy ever after and babies and growing old together.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to bleed out all alone on a dirty floor. I was an accountant. I shouldn’t get kidnapped.

  Someone would find me, right?

  Alex? Charlie? Anyone?

  My mind gave up trying to find an answer just as my world faded to black.

  No more pain. No more blood. No more anything.

  The darkness took over and I suddenly felt light, like I was floating on a cloud. It didn’t hurt anymore.

  It was simply the end of it all.

  22

  Alex

  My tires squealed against the pavement as I slammed the accelerator to the floor. Next to me, Alan Raftzen extended an arm to the dashboard to steady himself.

  “Jesus, Lexington, you don’t even know where you’re going,” he snapped.

  It was true. I didn’t have a clue who could have taken Lizzie. Or where, for that matter. But that didn’t mean I could sit back at the station and wait for something to happen.

  I wasn’t that kind of guy.

  I sped through town, paying little attention to stop signs or other traffic restrictions. At this point, I didn’t give one single shit. Someone had taken the most important thing in my life and I had to find her.

  “Her office,” I stated, hoping I sounded even remotely confident.

  Alan didn’t answer, only nodded as he pulled out his phone.

  “I’m calling my buddy in Chicago, see if he’s got a lead on Scorelli’s activity lately.”

  I felt like my world stopped spinning right then and there. Everything came to a screeching halt.

  What the hell could Jimmy Scorelli possibly want with Lizzie? She didn’t have a damn thing to do with the Waters family.

  Nothing.

  Her sister had been messed up in that fiasco because her dirtbag husband had gotten himself in one hell of a mess. But my Lizzie? She had no ties to that life.

  “There’s just no way,” I muttered to myself as Alan continued to chat away on his phone. “Trellis has to be involved in this somehow.”

  I rubbed my fingertips against my forehead, willing the pressure to go away. Something felt off. Like I had missed a key element to this whole thing.

  “Think, Lexington,” I whispered as I continued to speed through town.

  I parked in front of her office building and threw open the door. Before I could get out, Alan grabbed my arm.

  “Hold up a sec,” Alan said into his phone before he pulled it away from his ear and went on. “They raided Scorelli’s hideout yesterday morning. He’s been in custody for the murder of Nancy Waters since then.”

  “I knew it,” I hissed.

  This wasn’t part of the drug ring. There was something going on, something that flew right under my radar, which meant maybe it didn’t have anything to do with Johnny Trellis.

  So then, what was it?

  Alan hung up the phone and we made our way inside Lizzie’s office building, careful not to disturb the crime scene.

  From the outside, everything had looked normal. It was after we walked inside, however, that my stomach sank.

  Dread settled deep in my gut when I saw the bullet hole in the ceiling above her desk.

  Allen followed my line of sight and piped in as if he could read my mind, “Don’t jump to conclusions, buddy, you don’t know for sure it’s from a bullet.”

  Except I did. It had to be. If I’d seen it once, I’d seen it a thousand times. The spray of drywall had rained down onto her desk, likely getting caught in her hair and sticking to her clothes.

  I could just picture her, with her hands covering her ears when the powerful ‘bang’ of gunpowder exploded right in front of her.

  My eyes trailed across her desk. Besides the mess of drywall chunks, everything else seemed untouched.

  Her pens were still neatly assorted in their decorative holder. Papers sat nicely in her stack of files. A calculator, stapler, and other office supplies were lined across the top. She’d probably put them there for easy access while she worked.

  I looked out toward the entryway where Allen had met two other officers. They had begun to dust the place for prints and take pictures of anything they thought pertinent to the case.

  I looked back down at Lizzie’s desk.

  “Come on, Lexington,” I whispered to myself and closed my eyes to gain a little clarity. When I opened them, I took in the desk one last time.

  My eyes skimmed the piles of papers. Printed spreadsheets littered with numbers. She must have had a meeting with Max Mayland as most of them had his name across the top.

  On the edge sat a legal pad, not in Lizzie’s handwriting. Random numbers were scribbled across the page, as if whoever she had in here had used it for scratch paper.

  As I came around the desk to get a better look, my leg nudged the corner and the legal pad fell to the ground. The pages fluttered, fanning out before landing on its side.

  The corner of a photograph peeked out the side. I put on a glove, touching only the very edge.

  “You g
ot something?” Alan asked as he came into the office.

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I stared at the picture. It was of Lizzie, but not the Lizzie I knew.

  This woman was perfectly put together. Fancy clothes, sexy shoes. Her wide smile spread across her face and the look in her eyes screamed of happiness.

  “Not sure,” I muttered and continued to study the photo.

  The Lizzie I knew wasn’t this polished, this poised. The Lizzie I knew was awkward and nerdy.

  A trait I found cute as hell.

  I wouldn’t give this woman in the picture the time of day.

  “Who’s the guy?” Alan asked as he looked over my shoulder.

  “I don’t know,” I answered.

  He looked like the awkward one. His arm draped around her waist in a half-assed attempt to get closer to her. While Lizzie looked deliriously happy, this guy looked scared. Almost panicked.

  Off.

  “Flip it over,” Alan suggested.

  On the back, in handwriting I didn’t recognize were the words, “Schumann Christmas party.”

  “I’m on it,” Raftzen stated before bolting out of the room.

  He was a good cop. I didn’t even have to tell him what to look for, or where to search. He just knew.

  And I trusted him. I knew if there was anyone who could help find out who took my woman, it was Alan Raftzen.

  Because for once, I wasn’t much good for anything. It was hard enough just to take a breath, let alone go be a cop right now.

  Alan would find her. He’d connect the dots and help me hunt this son of a bitch down before anything happened to my Lizzie.

  He had to.

  I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if we didn’t find her in time.

  23

  Johnny

  I turned the key on my truck after driving up the long lane and finding a spot behind the tree line. With the thick brush and the heavy blanket of snow on the ground, ain’t no way anybody saw me pull in.

  I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but after seeing some asshole in a cheap-ass ski mask haul my neighbor out of her office, holding a motherfucking gun, I was going to find out.

  I snuck between the trees, trying like hell to keep my heavy boots from making too much noise in the snow.

  The thought had crossed my mind that I should give Lexington a call and tell him what I had seen, but I needed to find out what the fuck was going on first. No way was I wading into this bullshit only to find out his woman was stepping out on him and this was all just some sick sex plot.

  A shiver ran up my spine, causing me to shake. My mama always used to ride my ass about not wearing a coat. It was damn time I listened to the crazy woman.

  It was cold as fuck out here.

  When I finally made it to the barn, I slowly crept along the side to get to a window. Hoping like hell whoever was in there wouldn’t notice me, I snuck a quick look through the glass and then crouched low again.

  “Fuck me,” I muttered and pulled my phone out of my back pocket.

  What kind of sick shit had I stumbled upon?

  “What?”

  “Jesus, Lexington, that’s no fucking way to answer the phone,” I snapped, trying to keep my voice low.

  “Don’t have time for your bullshit, Trellis,” he answered.

  “Yeah, I know,” I quietly goaded. “Could that be because you’re out looking for your woman?”

  The line went quiet. I pulled the phone from my ear, thinking maybe the call had been dropped.

  “Yo!” I whisper-yelled into the phone. “You still there?”

  “What have you done with Lizzie?” Alex sneered, his voice laced with anger and menace.

  Honestly, I was a little hurt. I mean, I’m a fuckup, but I’m not a woman stealer. Especially when it’s a cop’s woman.

  “Nothing, you stupid asshole,” I spat at him. “But I did just see her, tied to a fucking dirty pole in the barn at the old Watson place.”

  “You saw what?!”

  I peered through the window one more time, just to make sure.

  “Dude, you need to round up your cop buddies and get the fuck out here. Max Mayland has your woman tied up and she’s in bad shape. There’s fucking blood all over, man,” I said, starting to panic.

  Shit, Liz was hurt bad. Maybe I need to go in there, I thought to myself.

  “I need to go in there,” I repeated, this time out loud.

  “Trellis, stay right where you are,” Alex instructed. “If you go in there, it’s just going to make shit worse. Stay put, keep your eye on her and stay on the line, you hear me? We’re on our way.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, pulling my pack of smokes out of my pocket. I put one between my lips and lit it, letting the nicotine soothe me.

  Well, sort of. My hand still shook like a mother every time I took a drag.

  I checked on Liz again but quickly pulled away. With my back to the barn, I slid down until my ass hit the snow.

  “You still with me, Trellis?” Alex asked.

  “Fuck no,” I answered. “I’m freaking the fuck out here. There is so much damn blood.”

  I stood up and began to pace, not even thinking about how much noise my boots must have made against the crunchy snow.

  Back and forth. Back and forth.

  I could hear Lexington shouting orders at me through the phone, but all I could think about was that chick in there and the fact she might be bleeding out.

  “Fuck it,” I muttered and turned toward the door.

  “Trellis, no,” Alex said firmly.

  “Too late,” I answered and ended the call.

  I stuck the phone back into my pocket and made my way toward the entrance. A glimmer of unease settled in when I realized I had no idea what the fuck I was going up against.

  Then again, I didn’t really care.

  Even if I ended up with my stupid ass in a box six feet under the ground, at least Liz would be okay. She was a nice lady, a good neighbor, and fuck if I was going to let some dipshit in penny loafers take her life on my watch.

  I’d fucked up so many times in my life, this was my chance for redemption. My one shot to show my mama, and the rest of this town, I wasn’t such a worthless piece of shit after all.

  24

  Lizzie

  It hurt to inhale.

  It hurt to exhale.

  Everything just freaking hurt.

  I took in short little bursts of air, hoping it would be enough to keep my lungs going without causing any more pain.

  I hadn’t been able to open my eyes, but I could still hear him. Talking. Laughing.

  Gloating.

  Not that I ever expected to be in this situation at any point in my life, but by the hand of Max Mayland?

  Definitely not ever.

  He was an even bigger nerd than I was.

  I dozed in and out, trying desperately to hold on to any last piece of consciousness I could muster.

  “Oh yeah, she definitely learned her lesson,” I heard him say, his voice laced with confidence and dripping in disdain.

  Asshole.

  I had no idea why he would do this; kidnapping me in broad daylight and then letting me slowly bleed out. What the hell had I ever done to him?

  A loud bang startled me. It wasn’t the same as when Max pulled the trigger in my office. My ears were still ringing from that one. No, this sounded more like something being thrown against the wall.

  “What the…” I heard him say.

  I willed my left eye open, struggling against the urge to keep it closed and drift off to sleep forever.

  I had to see.

  I had to know what was going on.

  I could hear grunting. Like there was a struggle. My heart leaped in my chest, hoping it was Alex and he was here with help.

  By the time I mustered the energy to get my eye open enough, all I could see was a cloud of dust, lingering heavy in the air. It was so thick it made the pain even worse with every breath I was able to
take.

  And then, just like out of an action movie, a silhouette emerged from behind the cloud. Either the blood loss had been enough that I was delirious, or this person, this knight in shining armor, was really walking toward me.

  “You okay?”

  I blinked my one eye, the other still unable to pry open.

  Johnny Trellis? The weird neighbor who creeped me out came to save me instead of Alex?

  What the hell kind of alternate universe was this?

  “Shit,” he hissed as he pulled my arms free from the pole.

  Turns out, that’s what was giving me the leverage to stay upright, because when my arms were free, I felt my body slide into a heap.

  “Hold on, Liz, Alex is coming,” he said as he knelt over my hunched body. He slid one arm under my legs and the other around my back and lifted me with ease into his arms.

  “Alex,” I mumbled.

  “It’s okay, Alex is coming for you, but I’ve got to get your ass outta here before that dumbfuck wakes up.”

  “Dumbfuck,” I muttered, repeating him.

  My body jostled as he carried me through the barn, stopping every few steps to readjust and reposition me in his arms.

  “Almost there,” he mumbled.

  I could feel the air getting colder. The outside was so close. With my eyes closed, my other senses seemed to be heightened. The smell of stale cigarette smoke lingered in my nostrils. I heard every grunt, every breath, as Johnny carried me closer to safety.

  Closer to the end of this whole ordeal.

  Closer to Alex.

  I heard a loud ‘thud’ before a blast of cold air slammed into me.

  We must be outside, I thought to myself.

  Johnny let out another grunt, a bigger one this time, and my body crashed into the snow. Something heavy fell on top of my legs, the warmth seeping through my pants.

  I tried to open my eyes one more time, but I just couldn’t muster the strength.

  When I heard the sirens in the distance, I knew it would be over soon.

 

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