Kissed by a Rose: A Dead Roses Novel

by Workman, RaShelle

  * * *

  Rosie

  When I come to it’s with the knowledge that I’m sitting up, but my hands are tied behind my back and to a hard, wooden chair. My shoulders scream in pain. I open my eyes and scan the room. Dead animal heads are mounted on the wood-paneled walls. There’s an antelope, an elk, a bear…at least a dozen animals. Their glassy eyes seem to be giving me an accusatory glare. Like I somehow killed them, stuffed them, and hung their heads up for display.

  Completely out of place is a flat screen TV, mounted between a mountain lion head and a deer head. The ceiling is low. Muted light fills the room. Beneath my feet is ugly flecked brown carpet. To the right is a bar, with dozens of bottles lined above a sink. A mirror is behind them. A pool table is directly in front of me. A card table to the left next to a stained orange couch. The room smells musty. It’s like a seventies man cave come to life to haunt me.

  From behind, I hear clomping, like someone coming down stairs, and a door opens.

  I’m guessing I’m in the basement of a house.

  “Oh, good, you’re awake.” Evan comes around and faces me. He’s carrying a laptop in his hands. A smug smile on his face. “We’re going to make this quick.”

  I feel my eyes scrunch together. “What is going on?” I croak. My throat is dry. Fear tightens my gut and my knees are shaking.

  “Here’s the thing.” He walks over to the bar, sets the small laptop on it. Pushes some buttons and then clicks on the TV.

  My aunt and uncle are sitting in the living room, watching TV. My uncle’s arm is around my aunt. She’s patting his knee. They are wearing the clothes they had on when I left. They both laugh.

  “How are you doing that? Is this live? Did you put a camera in my house?” With each question my voice raises an octave.

  Evan keeps his mouth clamped shut, but he’s wearing a stupid smile I want to smack off his stupid face.

  I keep watching the monitor.

  My uncle looks toward the hallway, surprise evident on his face. Two men dressed in ski masks barge in.

  He says something, but I can’t hear what it is. I can guess it’s something like, “What’s going on? Or who are you?” Uncle John tries to stand, but one of the men pulls a gun and fires. My uncle is knocked backward, falling between the couch and the coffee table. He grabs his chest as blood stains his shirt.

  I scream, pressing against the plastic ties binding me. “Uncle John!”

  My aunt leans into him. There’s terror and tears on her face. She’s saying words I can’t hear.

  The other man in the ski mask pulls a gun on my aunt. She speaks. The man steps forward, lifts his arm, aiming the gun at her face.

  “No. No. No,” I say quietly, even though I know they can’t hear me.

  The man backhands my aunt. Her eyes roll into her head and she falls.

  The men look at each other and then they manhandle my aunt and uncle, arrange them so they’re lying side by side, next to each other. Red is swelling and leaking from both of their bodies. It looks like my uncle is awake and trying to talk. He reaches out to my aunt.

  Tears cloud my eyes. I can’t breathe. My chest feels like someone is standing on it, crushing the life from me. And I want it. I want the release. Because this can’t be happening. Not again. It’s the exact placement of my mom and dad when they died. “Make them stop. Please.” I glance at Evan.

  He shakes his head. “I can’t. What’s happening now is out of my control. I told you what would happen, but you didn’t listen.”

  My aunt’s lips are moving. I lean forward, desperate to know what she’s saying.

  The men aim their guns at my aunt and uncle, but the screen goes black before I can see what I know is coming.

  “Soooooo, uncle-and-auntie-blackmail-pants are finally dead,” Evan says, closing the laptop. “Did you like the way I had them placed exactly like your parents?” He pauses a moment, then continues, “I thought it was romantic.”

  My mouth opens and closes. I want to say things, do things to Evan, but I can’t. Not yet.

  Evan shrugs. “Maybe you don’t see it that way.” He moves so his face is directly in front of mine, and I can smell his putrid breath. “Maybe you don’t remember. Let me show you.” He clicks the TV back on, and I’m transported back in time.

  It’s my parents’ house. They are sitting at the table. Dad is holding a beer. Mom is doing a crossword puzzle. They are talking. My dad sets down his beer and stands. His hands come out in front of him and wave back and forth. I can read one word on his lips. “No.” He’s saying it over and over, like I did a few moments ago. Then a man comes into the picture. It’s Evan’s dad. He’s holding a strange-looking gun and it goes off, the bullet launching my dad backward. My mom screams and Evan’s dad shoots her too. Then Cole’s dad enters the room. The chief of police and his brother are fighting, arguing. Cole’s dad looks right at the camera. I flinch. If my heart hadn’t exploded before, it does now. I didn’t think I could feel more pain. Hurt more. But I’m hurting so badly my body goes numb. My mind blanks.

  I watch the rest without feeling.

  My dad struggles to reach my mother. He lies down beside her. Brushes some hair off her face. Places a hand on her hip.

  A sob racks through me, breaking the silence. “Why?” I whisper.

  Evan kneels down, pulls my forehead to his. “Because your mom and dad were cowards, that’s why.”

  I spit in his face.

  He steps back, surprised. “Nice.” He takes a napkin from the bar and wipes his face. Then comes back over and slaps me so hard I see spots. “The simple answer is drugs. Your mom and dad were drug dealers, as were several officers and detectives in the police department. One of the IA pricks caught wind and started an investigation. Cole’s dad was implicated and so was mine.” Evan slaps me again. “Your parents told IA about Cole’s dad. About my dad. They made a deal with the IA imbeciles. They intended to sing like the squawking canaries they were. My dad and Cole’s dad couldn’t let that happen. Your parents had to be silenced. When it was done, the investigation was closed.”

  “But my aunt and uncle? They never did anything.” I don’t believe a word he’s saying.

  Evan slaps me again. This time my lip cracks and blood dribbles its way down my chin. “Your aunt and uncle blackmailed Cole’s dad, my dad. Sure, we allowed them to think they got away with it. But we were biding our time. Now that you’re eighteen, you have access to a safety deposit box. Try as we might we haven’t been able to find the key. That’s where you come in. That’s why you’re still alive. Because we need that key, Lard Rose.”

  I’m in shock. “A-A key?” I have no idea about the key he’s referring to. A shuddering breath torments my body. “I don’t know about a safety deposit box, nor have I ever seen a key.”

  Evan shakes his head. “I thought you might say that.” He presses some keys on his laptop, and the scene on the TV changes again. It’s no longer the dead bodies of my parents, but of a cot in a small room. Lying on the cot is Cole.

  “You wouldn’t,” I breathe, unable to believe what I’m seeing. “He’s your cousin. Your family.”

  “Trust me, I don’t want to. I actually like him. But my father is desperate for that key. If you don’t tell me where it is, Cole will die. And haven’t enough people already died?”

  I stare at the screen. Cole isn’t moving. He’s lying on his back. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. He’s alive. I’m so grateful my shoulders sag. My breath comes out in a big puff. I’d been holding it.

  That still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know where the key is. I rack my brain, trying to remember conversations my aunt and uncle had with me over the years. Something that might be important, something that might seem out of place or weird.

  The only thing that comes to mind is the many times my uncle would say, remember the titans and tap his nose. He’d done it again tonight, right before I left the house. At the realization that might’ve b
een the last time I see him or my aunt alive, my heart clenches. The phrase is something I thought was one of his weird quirks—for two reasons. He owns a Titan truck, and “Remember the Titans” is his absolute favorite movie. At least that’s what he said. Now I wonder if maybe the key is in the DVD case or if it might be in his truck. That’s the only thing I can think of and it might be a reach. My aunt and uncle are quirky. That’s just who they are.

  “What’s it going to be? Cole’s death or the key?”

  “You promise you won’t hurt Cole if I give you that key?” I figure it can’t hurt to stall. If Evan lets me go, I can look for the key and then find a way to contact the police and pray whoever answers is good.

  He makes a tsk-tsk sound with his mouth. Slaps my face again. “Of course, Lard Rose. I’ve no desire to kill my cousin. Right now, he probably thinks this is all some kind of joke or that I’m teaching him a lesson because of all of the snooping he’s been doing. That’s what it can be, if you give me what I want.”

  I nod. “Okay. I might know.”

  “Where is it?”

  I clear my throat. “I not exactly sure, but…”

  Evan sighs heavily. “Why did I have a feeling you were going to say that?” He pulls a cell phone from his pocket, presses a button, and holds it to his ear. “Kill—” He gasps.

  I hear shouting from the guy on the other end of the phone.

  “What’s going on?” Evan kicks me and I cry out. “I’m on my way.” He grabs my hair. “Sit tight, Lard Rose. I’ll be back.” He walks away and I hear a door slam.

  When I’m sure he’s gone, I twist my wrists, trying to get my hands free. They won’t budge.

  No escape, I keep thinking. Trying to accept that fact, I close my eyes against the hot tears that won’t stop. I keep seeing my mom and dad get shot, and my aunt and uncle. It’s almost too much to take in. For so many years, I wondered what happened. In two minutes, I watched the events unfold. Cole’s dad didn’t shoot them, Evan’s dad did, but he was there. I struggle to believe it, to understand.

  I start screaming. If I’m going to die like the rest of my family, then I’m going to die fighting. I rock the chair back and forth, hoping that the fall will break it and I can get free. Before I can make it happen, I hear shouting and a struggle happening beyond the door I know if behind me.

  “Evan! Come back here and fight like a man.”

  I don’t understand what is happening. My heart is racing, beating in my throat. This is it, I think.

  35

  The Truth

  Cole

  I open the door and look into the hallway. It’s different from my sterile room. The corridor is old, paint peeling from the walls. The corkboard ceiling is stained with old water damage and it smells like a barn. The sound of repetitive dripping comes from somewhere in the building. I don’t hear people—namely, Baldy and Ponytail.

  Stepping out of the room, I move down the hall as quietly as possible. At the end I turn right and enter a giant room. It reminds me of an airplane hangar. There are airplane parts scattered all over, laying on the floor, hanging out of wooden crates, and piled in a stack.

  A smell I’m quite familiar with stains the air. Marijuana. Pot. Ganja. The college drug, at least that’s what Evan always called it. Whatever. It’s legal in some states, but not here.

  It’s obvious Evan is in way over his head and I can’t believe he’s into so much trouble. Either way, I need to find him, and we need to discuss this.

  There’s a small door off to the left, and I run toward it. Turn the handle and burst into the cold, night air. My skin prickles. I’m immediately freezing, and I need a phone. The street is empty and I’m about to go back in the warehouse, hoping to find a phone in there when I see headlights.

  “Yes,” I whisper, running toward it. I wave my hands over my head, hoping they’ll see me.

  The car stops several feet away. It’s black. Kind of looks like a Beamer. At this point it could be a tractor and I’d be happy.

  I run over. The driver’s side window goes down. “Hey—” I begin and stop. It’s Ms. Spears, the English professor I TA for at the college. “What are you doing here?” It seems odd she’s here of all places. I want to question her further, but mostly I want to get out of here.

  “Get in,” she commands.

  I want to and place my hand on the door, but I hesitate. A lot has gone down between us. She’s a part of my past and I don’t want her getting any ideas.

  “Don’t be a moron.” She whips out a badge. “I’m FBI. Get in the car.”

  I lean forward, really checking it out. “FBI? Really? You expect me to buy that?” I can’t help the snort the leaves my throat.

  A guy leans across her and holds his badge out for me to see. “This isn’t a game, son. Get in the car. We’ve got to hurry.”

  I completely shocked. “Serious?”

  Witchy shakes her head. “Yes, you idiot.”

  I climb in behind her. Buckle up.

  The car jolts forward and the guy with black hair turns to face me. “My name is Agent Belvedere. I’ve been with the FBI for fifteen years and am agent Smythe’s partner.”

  “Agent Smythe?” I interrupt.

  He points at Witchy. She raises a hand, and waves. “Hellooooo.”

  “Tell me, Cole. What do you know about your aunt and uncle?”

  “Um.” I’m not sure what to say. I’ve done some snooping and a lot of questionable behavior has turned up, but I don’t know anything for sure. They’re family. I care about them. I know my aunt is constantly hanging out with her friends at the country club. My uncle is gone a lot, dealing with his restaurant. They’re busy. “My uncle owns an Italian restaurant. My aunt likes to hang out at the country club.” I stop, clamp my mouth shut. What do they want me to say?

  Agent Belvedere nods. “That’s true. To an extent. We believe your uncle is the leader of a mafia-style drug ring that has its tentacles in the Bellam Police Department. We believe your father worked for him, and he did something to go against the family, which is why he was executed. We also believe that the girl you’ve been dating, Rose Hansen?” He paused, as though waiting for me to confirm.

  “Yes, I know her.”

  “Her father came into information about your father and your uncle that would implicate them. But, as you know, he and her mother were killed. And the information wasn’t recovered.”

  A bead of fear is forming in my gut and is growing. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because Rose is in trouble. We had eyes on her, but she’s gone, and we aren’t sure where she is. We’ve been checking all of the known locations your uncle has used over the years, but we’ve come up empty handed.”

  “She’s supposed to be staying with her aunt and uncle,” I say, trying to push down the terror building inside.

  “We had a car there, but they were called away. It’s all very suspicious. We think either your uncle or your cousin took your girlfriend. Any idea where Evan might go?”

  “I don’t.” The sickness in my stomach builds. “Let me call him.”

  Agent Belvedere hands me a phone. “By all means.”

  I quickly dial Evan’s number, but it goes to his voicemail. After the beep, I yell into the phone, “What’s going on?” I press End and hand the phone back.

  “You must have a clue?” Agent Smythe asks. “You’ve been his friend for years. Help us help your girlfriend.” She’s says girlfriend with sarcasm, but I don’t care. I’m going to puke, I’m so worried. And I offer a prayer. Please let Rosie be okay.

  There’s a house Evan’s family owns that was a rental but has recently been empty. Evan and I use it to party once in a while. It’s the only place I can think of. “I might know.”

  * * *

  Rosie

  Gunshots go off and there are people yelling above and behind me. I’m wondering who else Evan is hurting.

  The door behind me bursts open and a gush of air whips my hair in my
face.

  “Clear.”

  “Clear.”

  “Check the prisoner.”

  “Rosie! Freckles! Let me get by.” It’s Cole. I’d know that voice anywhere and I let out a sob. I’m relieved, and frightened, and sad, and horrified, and plain worn out. Because it feels like everything in my life has been leading up to this moment. I was a pawn in a very twisted, very real chess game, and luckily—or not so luckily—I didn’t die. But everyone else did. My mom and dad. My aunt and uncle.

  Tears leak onto my face. Deep, heaving sobs escape my body. “Cole. I-My…” I can’t find the words to tell him everything that’s happened. How my heart is broken. That I’m relieved he’s okay.

  * * *

  Cole

  Seeing Rosie’s body tied to the chair, her face bruised and bloodied, it’s all I can do not to kill Evan. Once they’ve cut the zip ties, I lay her on the floor and rest her head in my lap. “She needs an ambulance,” I shout at no one in particular.

  “We’ve called for one,” Agent Smythe says.

  “Thank you.” I nod, and then return my focus to Rosie. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  She swallows. I can hear it. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

  She isn’t. There’s that look on her face—the one that says she’s experienced loss and heartache. Tears line my lashes, and I clear my throat. Forcing myself to be strong for her. “You aren’t. And it’s my fault. I should’ve known.” What I don’t say is that I shouldn’t have looked the other way when it came to my family. I should’ve done something with the information I discovered sooner. Knowing that Rosie almost died because of me, is almost more than I can bear. That’s what it boils down to. How could I have been such a fool? I’m sure she was right about my dad, especially know that I’ve seen what my aunt, uncle, and cousin have done. I can’t believe they wanted Rosie excecated. “Can you ever forgive me?”