Peaches did not find her remark amusing.
Ellie did as he said and inhaled deeply. She released her breath, trying to let her troubles go.
“Again,” Peaches said.
Ellie repeated the process. Her world tilted and she almost collapsed. Peaches caught her. “You’re doing it. Just clear your mind.”
Ellie shut her eyes. She cast off every thought until all she knew was blackness. Her eyelids shot open. Her eyes were rolled back. She dipped her brush in the paint can Peaches held and started to work on the barn’s wall. Peaches set the paint can next to the others and removed their lids, making sure Ellie had easy access. He did the same for the brushes by laying them out in a row. Ellie made use of that, taking finer paint brushes to make out the intricate details of the room she was painting behind the four victims. Peaches moved a few paces back and watched with full intrigue. He stayed out of her way, observing her strange gift with a sort of reverence and jealousy.
Detective Skinner called.
Peaches answered. “Apologies for the hold up.”
“You’re nearly a day late,” Skinner reminded him.
“I’m getting her, but we’ve run into some complications. Her family has been abducted,” Peaches explained.
Skinner replied. “That’s unfortunate, but none of your business. Bring her to the station now, or I put an APB on you.”
“Eugene,” Peaches said to calm him down.
“Don’t call me that,” Skinner replied.
“All right, Skinner,” Peaches corrected himself as he watched Ellie work. “Here’s the deal. The girl is special, but she won’t be any use to anybody locked up in the loony bin.”
“I don’t care,” Skinner replied. “She’s only caused us trouble. People are dead because of her.”
“Without her, we’d still be scratching our heads about this case. Just imagine for a moment what we could accomplish if she could use her gift on every case. I’m not just talking promotions, Skinner. Lives will be saved. Murders will be prevented. Killers could be stopped before they commit their atrocities. Everything we know about law enforcement would change,” Peaches said, unable to keep himself from smiling. “I’ve always been skeptical about the supernatural, but she’s converted me. What if there’s more like her?”
“So what?” Skinner said, not impressed by his partner’s words. “We aren’t the saviors of the world. We’re homicide detectives; she’s not. End of story.”
“You’re looking at this very short-sighted,” Peaches said.
“And you’re obsessed,” Skinner replied. “Bring in the girl and let your head swelling go down. You’ve already to lost enough brain cells with this investigation. I’d rather not watch you be spoon-fed Gruber for the rest of your life because your wound didn’t heal properly.”
“One day you’ll see my side,” Peaches proclaimed confidently.
“This is your last warning, Detective.” Skinner threatened.
The call ended. Peaches opened up the video camera on his smartphone and filmed Ellie work. “Wonderful,” he mumbled to himself.
When the blackout ended, Ellie stumbled backward. Her heel slipped on an old glass coke bottle from her childhood, but Peaches caught her before she could fall.
“Thanks,” Ellie replied as she straightened herself up. She blinked away the blurriness of her vision but couldn’t get over the throbbing pain behind her eye sockets. She twirled her wrists and listened to them crackle. The wall before her not just showed her dead family and her own cadaver, but the precise representation of the room where the murder would take place. Opposite of the bar, the room was wide with massive circular saws, wide belts to slide lumber, and other logging equipment. There was a door off to the side of the room that was chained shut. There was also a balcony that stretched a story above and could be used to look down at the captives. Set up around the room were a number of mannequins in various poses with different attire along with a sleeping bag, cooking pots, and a burnt-out fire pit.
Peaches stood beside her and studied the mural.
“I can’t believe it worked,” Ellie said. “I appreciate you helping.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Peaches said modestly.
“You helped me focus,” Ellie replied. “Alone, I don’t think I’d be able to get out of my head.”
Together, they looked over the recreation of the room, looking for both symbols and secrets.
Peaches hovered his finger over the wet paint. “There we go.”
Ellie looked at the corner of the painting where the detective pointed. It showed a little square door on the wood conveyor belt.
“Can you fit?” Ellie asked.
“I thought you were the one who wanted to sneak in? It was your idea,” Peaches reminded her.
“No,” Ellie replied. “I need to face him. If he only sees you, he’ll shoot you and my family without hesitation.”
“He may do that the moment you walk in,” Peaches said.
Ellie nodded. “I know, but now that Andrew’s out of the picture, he may be willing to talk.”
“You’re putting a lot of trust in a madman,” Peaches replied with concern.
“I’m putting even more in you that you can get my family out.”
“Your safety is my priority,” Peaches agreed.
Ellie gnashed her teeth. “My family is the mission. Not me. Can I trust you in this, Peaches?”
Peaches sighed deeply. “Family comes first. Got it.”
The detective took a picture of the mural, saved it on his phone, and then typed the address into his GPS. The lumber mill was only a few miles from the campsite. He adjusted his beanie and zipped up his jacket on the way out of the barn. The mural on the inner wall behind them wept rainbow-colored tears onto the dirt floor.
Ellie drove. Peaches took a pain pill. It must be nice to numb the pain, she thought as they drove through the Pennsylvania countryside. It was mid-afternoon. Ellie kept the snub-nosed revolver tucked in her purse. She wondered if she was strong enough to pull the trigger. She wondered if she wanted to pull the trigger. Of course, she was infuriated and hated Cory for what he’d done, but what would be gained if the cycle of vengeance continued? Ellie didn’t know what she’d do, yet. Her power had cost her too much already. She wasn’t going to lose her family, too. The road twisted and turned as it moved into wooded terrain. Much of the flora and fauna reflected that in the area surrounding the campsite.
The GPS directed them onto a dirt road before they lost cell service. If Cory didn’t have Ellie’s family, she would’ve called the cops even if it meant sending her back to the mental hospital. Part of her still wanted the cops now, but her power gave her an advantage over him. Ellie had used it recklessly before when she went to save Troy and limited her perception. She was going to be completely alert this time. She had to be.
At the end of the road and on top of a low mountain sat the lumber mill. Its tin walls were coated with rust. Corrosive holes spilled sunlight into the ceiling of the large building. A dirt road encircled the mill, and trees encircled the road. The place looked dark and forsaken. Figures were silhouetted in the tall broken windows on both the second and third floor.
“Mannequins,” Peaches announced.
Ellie stopped the truck behind the bend in the road. She squinted at the figures. “Any one of them could be Cory.”
“Yep,” Peaches replied. He looked at her with genuine concern. “You sure you want to do this?”
Ellie nodded, despite a little voice inside telling her to abort. She unzipped her purse and grabbed the snub-nosed revolver from within. She opened the chamber and looked at the copper nickel bullets. She gave the chamber a spin and a flick of the wrist closed it. “See you on the other side.”
Peaches grabbed the door handle and looked over his shoulder. “You too.”
He swiftly opened the passenger side door and darted into the woods nearby. Ellie reached over and shut the door. Keeping the gun in her lap, she
drove the car forward. She counted the mannequins in her mind. There were five total. As the truck neared the front door, Ellie watched them for any hint of movement. They appeared to be completely still. Ellie parked the car so that the passenger side door faced the building’s front door. Clenching the gun’s grip, she exited the truck, closed the door, and took cover behind the truck’s side panel. She reminded herself to stay calm but could do nothing about her pounding heart. Holding the gun in both hands, she peered out of her cover and watched the mannequins. Waited.
Her finger rested on the trigger. She slipped back into cover, resting her back against the front panel. Her eyes scanned the surrounding woods. Peaches was invisible amidst the foliage. That was a good thing. Ellie pulled up her long sleeves. The rest of the shirt stuck to her flesh like a second layer of soggy skin. Before making her move to the front door, Ellie peeked out of the cover again, but this time she leaned around the front bumper. Only four mannequins remained. Ellie’s skin crawled. The missing one was from the right upstairs window.
Ellie breathed into her nose rapidly, mustering her strength. Then, before she could psych herself out, darted to the front door. She reached the wall beside the metal double doors and stayed under the awning. Aiming her pistol toward the cloudy sky, she leaned her upper body out from the awning and eyed the windows above her head. No movement.
Bang!
Something hit the metal awning and sent Ellie recoiling under it. With her eyes turned upward, she listened to the soft pitter-patter above her head. She didn’t move. Her weapon trembled in her hands. The pitter-patter ended at the edge of the awning. Ellie moved toward it, unsure if she should just shoot through the awning right now. Letting her gun direct her body, she leaned out from under the awning and aimed.
Two black, beady eyes stared down at her. The large black crow cawed. Ellie lowered her weapon as she looked at the bird who’d loudly touched down on the awning. Ellie felt like she was seconds from a heart attack. The crow cocked its little head, stretched its black wings, and took flight. Ellie followed its trek with her eyes.
Keeping her back against the mill’s outer wall, Ellie slid beside the nearest window. It had panes in a checkered pattern. Many were broken and almost all were cracked in some way. She peered through the glass, looking at the hooded man clad in black staring at her. Ellie raised the gun, but held back from pulling the trigger. By its rigid posture, it was a mannequin. In the room beyond, which appeared to be an office of sorts, she saw cables running out of the room. Ellie guessed they connected to a generator just out of view. She ducked beneath the window and scurried along the side of the building. She proceeded to the door, but it turned out to be locked. Ellie looked to the window next to it. It opened into a loading dock of sorts. She cupped her hands and peered inside. No sign of Cory. Looking to her left and right, she rotated the revolver and bashed the handle into the glass. The panes shattered with every hit. The wooden separator between the panels snapped apart and after a few moments of work, Ellie was able to slip inside. Broken glass crunched beneath her foot. She held the revolver in its proper form and scanned the loading area. There appeared to be places for forklifts and dollies, thought currently all the room had were stacks of pallets and large plastic bins.
Ellie moved through with quiet but quick footsteps. She made certain to keep her eyes moving. If Cory got the jump on her, it would all be over. She reached the door at the end of the room and turned the rusty knob. It opened into the main room of the mill. It was an exact replica of Ellie’s mural. There were groups of mannequins scattered about. Some stood around rusted trash cans filled with charred wood. Others had instruments taped to their plastic arms. There was an old sleeping bag nearby and a makeshift cooking station that consisted of unwashed pots, pans, and a burned-down fire pit. This part wasn’t like a set piece for the mannequins. Someone had actually lived here for many years.
Ellie stepped into the room. Dangling from the ceiling were lines of Christmas lights. There were lights weaved together in the shape of massive oak trees just like the one on Willoughby. At the moment, none of the lights were active. Sawdust coated the corners of the room. There was an interior balcony that made an “H” shape with the center walkway passing over the work floor. A number of massive circular saws with conveyor belts were spaced out evenly across the massive room. From the side door that Ellie had entered, she had yet to see her family.
Moving cautiously, she entered the room. The revolver felt heavy in her sweaty hands. She was so tense that the drop of a pen might send her shooting. Just breathe. She moved a few more paces before spotting her family at the far end of the room. They sat in metal chairs with their wrists and ankles bound. They whispered to one another, and their murmurs carried through the mill. Her mother, Martha, was sobbing. Her father was trying to comfort her. Paul fidgeted in his bindings, trying to bust free but failing miserably.
Ellie wanted to run right to them, but if the blood mural was to be believed, she’d be gunned down at their feet. She kept the revolver low but ready in both hands. She scanned the balcony bridge, expecting that to be Cory’s hideaway.
Suddenly, the Christmas lights cut on and the dark, dusty room was illuminated by festive lights. The trees of light glowed on the wall. Just like the Willoughby tree and Troy’s torso wound, they had red lights marking the crack at the center of the white oak.
Martha, Howard, and Paul stopped everything and turned their attention to the room, and consequently, Ellie. She ceased her movement, watching her parents and brother gawk at her. Before they could speak, Ellie put her shaking finger over her lip. She watched their eyes turn from her up to the balcony. Ellie quickly looked up and aimed her pistol at Cory standing on the bridge. A cowl shrouding his face, he aimed a handgun at her.
“Aren’t we beyond wearing masks?” Ellie asked spitefully.
Cory drew back his hood, revealing his pale skin, mismatched eyes, and countless scars. “Where’s the detective?”
“Dealing with Andrew,” Ellie lied. “You nearly killed the man. Someone had to watch over him.”
Cory glared at her. His face was absent of all emotion. Ellie didn’t know if he caught her bluff. In her peripherals, she watched the conveyor belt port.
Cory spoke. His voice was soft, tormented, and almost joyful. “You’re the only person in the world that has seen all my homes.”
“Let my family go, Cory,” Ellie demanded, trying to keep a rein on her own emotions. “We both know you don’t kill innocent people.”
Cory cracked a smile. It was lopsided and showed a few of his broken yellow teeth. “You don’t know a thing about me.”
“I know you’re on a petty revenge quest that I screwed up for you,” Ellie replied.
Cory twitched. “It’s not petty. You know what they did to me? To my sister?”
Martha yelled out. “Run, Ellie! Don’t worry about us!”
Keeping the gun trained on Ellie, Cory shouted. “Shut up or I’ll shoot her!”
“What they did to you wasn’t just wrong. It was evil,” Ellie admitted. She felt her blood boil. “But after what you did to my husband and how you tried to kill me multiple times, I’m convinced you’re no better.”
“You stole my justice,” Cory twitched again like a valve about to blow.
“Grow up,” Ellie baited.
Cory clenched his jaw. His eyes went wide with fury. His finger hovered over the trigger of his gun. Ellie aimed back. She was still waiting for Peaches to find his way in, but thus far, she was alone.
Cory spoke. “Do you have any idea what I had to deal with after Andrew and the others attacked me?”
“So you’re the victim?” Ellie replied. “That’s rich.”
Keep a hold on your tongue, Ellie told herself, but couldn’t stop the raging fire inside of her.
“I was,” Cory said firmly. “Not anymore.”
“I know,” Ellie replied back.
“They left me in the ground next to my dead sis
ter,” Cory explained, his eyes glossing over. “I could barely move, let alone stand. I thought someone would look for us. I spent days there, watching my sister, the woman who was more of a mother to me than Mom ever was, rot in her own fluids. Then the crows came. They must’ve smelled her stink. They feasted on her flesh, and since I wasn’t in any shape to move, they feasted on mine too. Do you have any idea what it’s like? To have your skin torn from your body bit by bit?”
Ellie didn’t answer.
Cory smiled crazily. “You don’t. Not many do. Good, because they would’ve begged for death just like me. Oh, and I begged every god and mighty force I could think of to kill me. Instead, my swelling went down. I could move my body again. I forced myself up and watched the black birds scatter. But even though I was out of the shallow grave, I was still lost in the woods. I ate bugs, acorns, anything really.”
On his hands and knees, Detective Peaches crawled out of the conveyor belt portal. As much as Ellie wanted to acknowledge his presence, she kept her eyes on Cory.
He continued. “No one travels out to these parts, see, so I couldn’t find a way back home or any way to communicate with the world. After walking a while, I got to this place.” He glanced about the building. “There was a squatter here. He’d talk to these mannequins, yelled at them, beat them, danced with them, did everything you’d do with a normal person. After watching for a few hours, I asked him for food. He invited me in, introduced me to his friends, and got me all stitched up. When I was fixed, I decided to go home. I hid my face and hitched a ride. Mom was home with her boyfriend, making love on the couch. I realized that nothing had changed. That the world didn’t care what happened to me. I didn’t knock. I turned around and hitchhiked right back here.”
“Why didn’t you call the cops?” Ellie asked. “You knew the faces of the men and women who did this to you. One phone call could’ve changed everything.”
Cory glared at her. “I didn’t want the police’s help.”
“You’re an idiot,” Ellie retorted.
“Look at yourself.” Cory said. “You came here without the police. Why?”
Stolen Secrets: A Collection Of Riveting Mysteries Page 31
