Red Ochre Falls

by Kristen Gibson

  “How big?”

  “Like get your license revoked and end up in jail big. Just watch out, Garrett may not be the guy you think he is.”

  “Thanks for the advice. It’s nice to have someone looking out for me.” I meant it even though I was stunned by the information.

  Suddenly, Derek leaned forward and kissed me. His lips tasted a little like chocolate, which wasn’t what I expected, but definitely not bad.

  “I’d like to do this again sometime. Are you interested?” He smiled. I had no plans on doing anything with anybody until I found out if Ruggiano was connected to Chloe’s death, if Garrett was connected to Ruggiano and the mob, or if any of these things were connected at all. Derek had been nothing but nice to me, so I left the door open for the guy.

  “Sometime.” I began to stand. “I should head in and lock up.”

  “Sounds good. Do you need me to stay and make sure you’re okay until morning?” Derek smiled and helped me up.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine.” I hoped the scary guy was long gone.

  “Just thought I’d offer. I’ll stay here. Get inside, lock these doors and get upstairs. Then call me on my cell so I know you’re locked up safe.” Derek gave me his business card and waited.

  It seemed odd to leave him standing here while I ran like crazy to the apartment, but I didn’t have any better ideas, so I followed his instructions. I locked the outer doors while he smiled and waved goodbye. Next, I locked up the big wooden doors then high-tailed it up the front staircase and into the apartment where I slammed and locked that door, too. I ran through the apartment and checked the back door—it was locked tight. I grabbed my cell and called Derek.

  “All good,” I said to him, and almost meant it.

  “Good, now I’m heading across the street. I’ll be there a while, and I’m not far from here, so call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Derek. I appreciate the help. Talk to you later.”

  “Later,” he said, and hung up.

  Everything in the apartment seemed to be in order except the stillness of being alone. Something about it felt overpowering. I took off my shoes, shucked off my clothes and put on my jammies then jumped back into bed. I moved my notes and stuff to the other side of the bed and clicked off the light. The uneasy knot in my stomach was either from the massive sundae I’d just eaten, or from the fear someone was keeping tabs on me.

  It had to be more than just coincidence that every time I asked questions about Chloe’s death, I got threatened. I tossed and turned until the phone rang sometime after midnight.

  I froze. It took me a couple rings to get the courage to answer. I slowly reached for the phone, picked up the receiver and let the business greeting crackle out. It turned out to be a man—calling from the West Coast—to ask viewing times. I turned on the light and read the information off the info sheet. He thanked me, apologized for the late call and hung up.

  This time after I turned out the light, I pulled the covers up to my neck and prayed for sleep to take over. Once it did, I slept hard, and long.

  CHAPTER 15

  The sun wasn’t out the next morning, so it didn’t have a chance to wake me. I finally rolled over around 8, but it took a little time to untangle myself from the covers. I sat up and scanned the room. When I noticed the phone, the memory of the crazy threatening caller startled me.

  I tried to shake it off then fumbled around for my cell and checked messages. One of them was Chloe’s mom. I cringed thinking I’d have to tell her we had no luck convincing the Coroner’s office to reconsider her daughter’s cause of death. Even worse was the thought that someone actually believed Chloe could be involved in drugs. Not the girl I knew—even if she had changed—I couldn’t believe she’d be addicted to anything except hard work, and maybe Tab. I really didn’t want to have to tell her mom any of it, but she deserved to hear the truth, at least the parts I could stomach telling her.

  First, I needed some fuel. Maybe I’d call my mom, Jos, and then I could stall a little more by doing laundry, or cleaning the fridge and freezer. Excuses came easy when I dreaded doing something, but the feeling would probably pass, eventually. Anyway, I needed more time to figure out what to tell Mrs. Ellis.

  I made the bed and sorted out some thoughts. Chloe’s mom would find out, whether I told her or not, the Coroner’s office hadn’t changed the cause of death, yet. Given a little time, they might. Just not before Chloe’s funeral. Did Mrs. E need to hear all the lies about drug use? Probably not. Just to be safe, though, I made a mental note to ask her about Chloe’s prescription meds. If there was a reason to poke further into her anxiety diagnosis, I would, but it wasn’t likely to come to that. At least, I hoped not.

  The kitchen was my next stop. I opened the fridge then went to the pantry to find something resembling breakfast. A small box on the shelf caught my eye. I opened a box and snagged a pack of toaster pops out of it. The foil crinkled as I opened the package. Both pops went in our cheap, old two-slice toaster. It took a couple tries to get the lever to catch and the heat to come on, but when it did, I clapped. The scent of pastries warming was high on my list of favorite things. Usually, I tried to eat a balanced breakfast, but this was quick, and satisfied my need for a sugar boost.

  While waiting, I tried mom. My call went to voicemail. Maybe she was finally getting to sleep in, or maybe Aunt Eileen got them to Sunday service. She attended church regularly.

  Mom and I stopped going to church when I was a teenager—life got too busy. After grandma died, we went to service a few times after, but still felt lost.

  My family would probably be tied up a while. At least until after service and some congregational lunch, they were always having at Aunt Eileen’s church. Part of me wished I could be there with them, even if it meant listening to grandpa complain about being last in the food line because ‘his legs didn’t move so fast these days.’

  I left a quick message and decided it was time to hit up Jos. I tapped her name and hit the call button. The toaster popped just as Jos picked up the line. So much for a hot breakfast, I thought, and flung the scalding pastries onto my plate.

  “What’s up girl,” she sounded chipper.

  “Hey. Just hanging out here all by myself and wanted to find out how everything is going. Are you heading back for the funeral?”

  “Things are good. No big fights, only a couple disagreements. I think we’re heading back an hour. Why? Is everything okay? It’s not your mom is it?”

  “No, everything is okay. Although she and Aunt Eileen are extending their stay at grandpa’s. Just needed to chat about some stuff.” I avoided specifics.

  “Guy stuff?” Jos always did get straight to the point.

  “Yeah, and some Chloe stuff.”

  “What time do you want me to come by for the service?” Getting through Chloe’s funeral was not going to be easy for either of us.

  “Come over whenever you can. Just make sure to be here by noon, so we can talk before the visitation.” I hoped Jos would be back sooner, so we could talk about Chloe long before we buried her.

  “Okay. Hang in there, okay? I’ll be back soon and we’ll get through this together.” Jos was a great friend.

  “I will, just be safe coming home. See ya.”

  “Later,” she said, and disconnected.

  Just about the time I finished selecting the dress and shoes I planned to wear to the funeral, Garrett called up.

  “Mattie?” I heard him on the intercom then walked from the bedroom to the living room to pick up the phone.

  “Hey Garrett,” I said in my reserved tone.

  “Everything okay up there?”

  “I’m fine, just had a long night.”

  “Anything you want to share?”

  “Not over the phone.”

  “I brought donuts.” He knew exactly how to tempt me. “Holtman’s. Made fresh this morning.” Holtman’s has been in business since the 1960s, and they make donuts to die f
or—even the custard and cream fillings are made from scratch, they don’t scoop it from some bucket, like other donut shops. And I’ve been to a lot of donut shops. I eyed the toaster pops then thought about Holtman’s with a side of Garrett. Yum! My body craved both. Although, I promised to be cautious and reserved until the whole Ruggiano connection was clear, donuts were fair game, in my opinion.

  “I’ll grab my shoes and meet you downstairs.”

  If I could take stairs two at a time, I would have, but I didn’t want to risk missing out on donuts because I got hurt tumbling down the stairs. I guess it’s possible to eat while on a stretcher, so I said ‘screw it’ and jumped over the last few steps. It took effort to act composed before Garrett saw me. I pat my hair into place and walked calmly down the hall and into the office.

  My eyes widened. Garrett stood there holding open a box of Holtman’s donuts. I could die happy right now. Well, maybe after I ate some donuts. And maybe after I worked them off doing something with Garrett I’d only dreamed of doing.

  Man, I couldn’t tell if it was the scent of sugary decadence that had me all worked up, or Garrett in his Sunday best. The man looked fine. I wanted to rush over and touch him. I mean touch it, the suit!

  I planted my feet for a second and tried to stop the overwhelming feeling I had of going full throttle toward him. Whoa girl! As bad as I wanted a donut, and the other stuff, self-control was important.

  “Uh, Mattie?” Garrett’s expression changed from a smile to confused. “Donuts?” He shook the box a little at me.

  Good Lord! I know there are donuts! I yelled in my head. Can’t a girl have a moment to get it together before you tempt her any more than she is already?!

  I took a deep breath and exhaled before moving again. By the time the donuts were within reach, I made my move.

  “Thanks.” I reached in for a cream-filled donut. “What brings you here this morning? Checking up on me?” I stuffed the donut into my mouth so I wouldn’t say anything else. The fresh dough, the cream, and the chocolate blew my mind. I had to sit down.

  “I guess you like donuts. Do you want me to leave you and the box alone for a while?” He let a little laugh escape.

  I gave him a sort of evil eye look, only it probably looked freakish with my mouth stuffed so full of donut. I couldn’t talk, so I just shrugged and enjoyed breakfast. I kept my eyes on him and the box. He set it on his desk and took a chocolate one out for himself.

  It was hard enough to remain calm when Garrett did normal things—like, walking, talking, and conducting business—but seeing him in action at the gym, and watching him eat that donut would undo me.

  I understood some of my feelings stemmed from my own hormonal reaction; maybe another part conjured in my mind, but this…what existed between us felt like more than just those things.

  He smelled good. He looked good. But, was he good? Or at least, was he good in the ways he should be? He’d been nothing but nice, and flirtatious with me, but was it his personality? Did he behave this way with everyone? Or was there anything special about the way he behaved around me? In the time it took me to analyze what was happening in my head he’d finished his donut and grabbed a second.

  “Mmm, these are so good!” He took a huge bite.

  “Hey!” I yelled and grabbed a second. “Save some for me!” It wouldn’t be hard for me to get a second one down, but it would probably be my last for a while. My body could only take so much sugar before I needed coffee. About the time I had the thought, he moved something on his desk and revealed the coffee he’d brought along.

  “Goes better with this.”

  A handsome, intelligent man armed with pastries and coffee had just stolen my heart. I gave his cup a “cheers” clink and tipped it back. Hot and sweet, just like I like it!

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” I sank into the desk chair.

  “I thought we should celebrate,” he sounded pleased.

  “Celebrate what?”

  “I got the notes.” He smiled at his accomplishment and took another bite of donut.

  I sat stunned by what he said. It sounded like good news. I mean he wanted the autopsy notes, after all, but for some reason I didn’t take it well.

  Garrett beamed with pride at retrieving vital information in Chloe’s case, but all I could think about was last night. While I was getting threatening calls and dead flowers, he must have seen Tess. How else could he have gotten her notes so easily? She made it obvious when we met that she really didn’t want to share them. Then changed her mind when she thought she could use them to get close to Garrett. It seemed like a logical assumption, anyway.

  “Yay,” I raised my hands for a half-hearted cheer.

  His confidence flickered. “I thought you’d be happy.”

  “I am happy, and also nervous.” There was a whole lot behind the nervous part. Such as, did Tess come to see him, or did he go to her? It really wasn’t my business, except I wanted it to be my business. But, more than that, I wanted to trust him. If Tess was still tied up with Ruggiano, and Garrett had done something for him once before, could they both still be involved with the mob? What did he do for Ruggiano anyway???

  “Why are you nervous?”

  “I’m scared of what we’ll find, or what we won’t.” It went way beyond Chloe, but I didn’t share that part with him.

  “You’re worried the evidence points to suicide?”

  “I’m worried the evidence is wrong, or tainted.” There. I’d said it. He was going to come down on me for sure, but it needed saying.

  “I don’t think it’s tainted. But, it might not add up yet.” His brow crinkled, he was contemplating something. “I couldn’t sleep, so I looked it over last night.”

  Hey, a crazed lunatic threatened me again last night, so sleep didn’t come easy for me either. Maybe Garrett didn’t need to know that part just yet.

  “Did you find something new?” I hoped it was something to contradict the Coroner’s ruling.

  “It’s not new, but a new way of looking at what happened.”

  We both sat forward in our chairs as he opened the file. Before he showed me, he asked for permission. “Some of this isn’t for the faint of heart. Do you want to see what I found, or would you rather skip this part?”

  “Let me have it.” I didn’t want to back down.

  Garrett pulled out some photos of Chloe. Post-mortem photos. I wanted to look away—the images didn’t look like anyone I knew. The girl in the photos was discolored and lifeless.

  “I knew as soon as I found the needle mark on her neck, something was wrong.” Garrett pointed to a photo in front of me and explained his theory. “This injection mark was hard to find, and it was very precise. It may have been made with a small gauge needle. But it’s still not the kind of mark a newbie drug user could make easily, and certainly not in a place someone just hoping for a fix might think to try. Too many things could go wrong—she could have easily missed, punctured an artery, and bled out.” He stopped while I tried to catch up.

  I stared at the photo. It made me sad and angry. Tears welled up until my eyes could no longer hold back the weight of them. My head sank and I sat there crying. Garrett grabbed a tissue box on his desk, they were in all the offices and rooms, and handed one to me. I gently patted the tears away and my gaze met his.

  His warm hand brushed my cheek. I felt a shock of heat, and then embarrassment. We were discussing my dead friend, after all. Garrett stroked my cheek until the comfort and strength he radiated reached all the way to my heart. He was trying to help me get through this. The least I could do was pull myself together enough to finish what we started. I looked at him and reached up for his hand. He moved toward me as our fingers intertwined.

  “Mattie,” he leaned into me and whispered. “Do you want to talk about this?”

  “Which part?”

  “All of it.” He tightened his hand around mine. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. You just looked so sad, I couldn
’t help myself. I didn’t want you hurt.”

  “I—I—think some air would be good.” But I couldn’t move.

  His breathing quickened. He scooped me up out of the chair and led me through the back hall and out the door.

  The wind gusted and forced air into my lungs. It might have knocked me over if Garrett hadn’t been holding me steady. “Can you breathe?”

  I took several deep breaths. “It’s okay. I feel better now.” I breathed in and out for a few beats and smiled. “I usually do around you.”

  “Mattie,” Garrett beamed and set me down carefully. He looked conflicted, but overcame it and settled his hand comfortably around my waist. My heart raced being this close to him—staring at his gorgeous blue eyes and wild hair.

  We locked eyes—and felt the soul lasers, cutting away fear and reticence. Garrett pulled me tighter against him. He leaned in, gently brushed his hand across my cheek, and touched his lips to mine. I put my hands around his neck to pull him closer, if it was even possible then he opened my mouth with his.

  Our kisses intensified as I ran my hands up into his hair. When he reached my neck, I let out a little moan. He pressed himself against me and kissed me so deeply my entire body shook. Then he stopped. He looked at me for a moment, gave me another soft kiss and grinned.

  “Just checking to make sure you could breathe normally.”

  “All clear here,” I croaked. “Why did you stop there?”

  “Like I said before, I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I just can’t help myself around you.”

  “I’ve got no complaints.” I smiled.

  He came close and my temperature rose several degrees again. This time, he left some space between us. “I want to do this the right way,” he said urgently.

  “Oh, you’re doing it right,” I giggled.

  “Not what I meant.” He sounded flustered. “Let me take you somewhere—”