Red Ochre Falls

by Kristen Gibson

  Losing someone you know is never easy. This was much harder. Chloe was close with her mom, like I was with mine. Whatever mothers and daughters go through together in life belongs to them. If they have a good relationship, there’s a bond no one can touch. Not death, or the threat of death, can take that bond away. Coming so close to losing my own mom forced me to think about what it would be like to have the physical link broken.

  I spent days and nights praying that if my mom died, we’d still be able to communicate on some spiritual level—that maybe she’d see me, and help guide me with occasional signs, like wind gusts and beams of light. A storm might sway me against doing something, and a ray of sunshine might lead me toward a certain path. It seemed silly. But, the thought that it could someday happen gave me hope.

  Thinking about mortality, and mother-daughter bonds fueled my need to find Chloe’s killer. Whoever ripped Chloe away from her life would be brought to justice.

  Mrs. Ellis eased up and we gave each other knowing looks. I finally answered. “You’re welcome. I just wish we could have prevented this. We’ll do whatever we can to find out what happened.”

  Mrs. Ellis hugged Jos briefly and took a place beside her husband. Mr. Ellis gave his wife a squeeze and a quick kiss on the cheek. The family stayed close and awaited the onslaught of people.

  Garrett walked in and surveyed the room.

  “You did what you could,” Mrs. Ellis told me. “Now, we have to make peace with what’s happened. Maybe then we can move on.” She was right. We needed to make peace, for me, it meant finding Chloe’s killer and taking the bastard down.

  My grandpa used to joke we came from a long line of Pugilists. This was one of those times he may have been right. Still, I needed to simmer down or risk another confrontation at my friend’s funeral.

  For the next fifteen minutes there was a steady stream of family, friends and acquaintances. The place filled up quickly. So, when it was appropriate, Jos and I split off from Chloe’s parents.

  “Want to start making rounds?” I asked Jos.

  “Sure. You need a minute?”

  “I want to talk to Garrett.”

  “Right,” she said, and flashed me a grin over her shoulder as she walked away.

  In a quick scan of the room, I saw Chloe’s parents with another couple their age. Judging from their suits, they were bankers, or real estate moguls like Chloe’s dad.

  Beside them, a young man in his early twenties with slick black hair, and a baggy jacket that looked like it had recently been dug out of mothballs, rested his hands on wheelchair handles. He pushed it past a row of seats on the way to the front of the room.

  An old woman wearing a rose pink sweater with taupe slacks and matching shoes sat in the wheelchair. Her white hair sat elegantly piled on top of her head, and she wore a gold and pearl pin that looked expensive even from this distance. Judging from her posture sitting in the chair she came from money. Polished and proper. Her features had aged, but there was splendor in her smile. She waved to another woman standing near Garrett at the doorway.

  With a viewing this size, Ryder was most likely posted at the front door to greet people, which left Garrett in charge of Viewing Room #1. I passed by some lawyer types on the way over to see him.

  “How are you?” Garrett asked.

  “Doing okay. I guess. Hey, who is the lady in the wheelchair? She looks familiar.”

  “She’s sort of our neighbor. Her name is Mrs. Jacobson. She’s lived down the street from us for longer than I can remember. Being a long-time resident, she comes for viewings a lot.”

  I eyed her wheelchair, and looked over the driver. There was something familiar about them both, but I couldn’t place what. Garrett must have noticed because he answered unprompted.

  “Mrs. Jacobson comes to several visitations a year. She’s old, but can walk, although, sometimes she uses the wheelchair. The guy is her nephew. I remember someone telling me his name. It might have been Craig? Anyway, he’s been around the past two summers earning money for college. You might have seen them around.” Garrett paused. I sensed he had another thought. “You know, she could probably use extra help when he goes back to school this fall…and the job probably pays better than writing obits.”

  I smiled. He was right. Obits didn’t pay much, but I liked writing from the comfort of home. Even if it was a funeral home. My smile faded. We were quiet for a few moments.

  “Looks like it’ll be standing room only,” Garrett broke the silence. “If you’re up for it, keep an eye out…for anything unusual. It could be slight, but even small details could be important.”

  “Will do.”

  “The family knows you, so they might come to you if they want anything. Bring the requests to me. I’ll make sure they get whatever they need. And the same goes for you and your friends.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and noted his watchful gaze. He was carefully doing rounds with his eyes. “You’re on high alert. Something up?”

  “Still amped up from earlier. And I’m on watch.”

  “Is it Tab? Do you think he’ll come back?”

  “He won’t be coming back,” Garrett gave me a sly grin.

  “Good news. But how can you be sure?” I worried until his look turned me happily suspicious. Maybe Garrett considered my garbage dump idea. “What did you do?”

  “Let’s just say his car smelled 100-proof. The police may have received a call about a suspicious man, possibly drunk, and they may have observed the same suspicious man throwing punches at me in the parking lot.”

  “What? Why was he throwing punches at you?” My voice was low, but serious.

  “I may have said something derogatory about his shoe size.”

  “Shoe size, huh?”

  “Some guys are really sensitive about that sort of thing.” Garrett flashed me a smile. I tried hard to contain a laugh.

  “They picked him up and took him downtown. He’s so belligerent they’ll probably throw him in the pokey until he sleeps it off.”

  “We should be so lucky.”

  “We should. But luck isn’t going to protect you from him. You need more training.” Garrett wasn’t kidding.

  “I know,” I answered uncomfortably. He didn’t blink or flinch. At all. “When?”

  “Not this second, but soon. You’ve been threatened by more than one nut this week.”

  “I know. The rise of threats and nuts in my life started to freak me out.” I swallowed hard and thought about my two loonies roaming the streets. The first was a guy with a penchant for hitting women. Tab hadn’t done anything to me yet, but declared he would just as soon as the opportunity presented itself. The second—some horrible giant—scared me more with surprise warnings, and rotting flowers. He indicated we could be all square, if I’d just stop asking questions. Which wasn’t going to happen as long as I was breathing. Something my giant made very clear he’d put an end to, if I kept poking around.

  “You need to be ready in case someone decides to follow through. We’ve got to prepare you. Escape techniques and passive resistance could save your life.”

  “Passive resistance?”

  “Don’t look bad guys in the eye. Don’t act threatening. Don’t mouth off.”

  I took exception to his mouthing off comment, but only because it was spot-on. Even as a kid, I tried my best to be polite, but too many things got me riled up to stay quiet.

  Either way, Garrett was right. I needed more training, or to leave the country, an option I wasn’t considering, yet.

  “Okay. Let’s talk later. We’ll find a time that works for us both, and you can help turn me into She-Ra.” He chuckled. Ryder caught his attention. Garrett reassuringly squeezed my arm and excused himself.

  Scanning the room again, I noticed two people texting, and a third making a call. Seriously. How rude. There were plenty of spots outside the viewing room to do that kind of stuff. I only hoped Mr. and Mrs. Ellis didn’t see it.

  Eyes peeled, I noticed the
m standing in the front row. They remained close to the casket, but slightly off-center near a large spray of brightly colored lilies. This left enough space people could still walk up and see Chloe.

  Her parents were in the middle of a group, no doubt listening to more expressions of grief and sadness at their daughter’s untimely passing. Mrs. Ellis looked like she could barely keep it together—red, puffy eyes, a red nose, and tissues crumbling in her fists—classic signs of distress.

  I headed over to rescue her when someone called my name. The high-pitched voice came from behind. I pivoted to find Nat Peterson heading straight for me.

  Nat was a bouncy blond with a nice build and a big mouth. She was a fun girl. We hung out our freshman year. But she gossiped way too much for my taste. I could only take so much of the latest school scandals. I thought passing Chem 101 and the History of Ancient Civilizations was more important than who-slept-with-who.

  Most people found Nat easy to talk to, which made her the perfect purveyor of campus information. We mostly got along, but didn’t stay close.

  During a random party sophomore year, Jos and I were complaining about the dorms. We bumped into Nat. She’d overheard our conversation. She told us about an off-campus contact with a house for rent. We jumped at the chance, and rented it with five other girls our junior year. The year everything fell apart.

  I took her arrival as a bad sign. Not because she was a shameless gossip, but because she was holding the arm of Ethan Cane—my ex. This was the first time I’d seen him since I’d left school. We’d ended on not so great terms—hence, the Louisville Slugger incident—but we had patched things together, somewhat. It was enough we could ride in the same car for the time it took to get me to the hospital, so I could see my mom post-heart attack.

  Memories flooded my head, temporarily overloading it with thoughts and feelings I’d contained for years. It felt like a white hot flash, maybe something along the lines of peeking inside Pandora’s box then slamming the lid shut before the ensuing chaos broke loose.

  My eyes zoned out then refocused. Behind Nat and Ethan, I saw Ashley, Jeremy (Ethan’s roommate), and some other girl I didn’t recognize.

  “Mattie!” Nat squealed. “It’s so good to see you.” She gave me a huge hug, like we were best pals. Everything felt a little over the top, but I let it ride and tried to put on my best smile.

  Nat introduced everyone in the entourage and began to explain each person’s role in her life. Ashley and Becca, the girl I hadn’t recognized, excused themselves after ten minutes of yawn to freshen up. Jeremy left right after them without saying a word. They probably figured Nat would continue to tell me all about them indefinitely, so why bother trying to speak?

  “Nice to see you. I wish I could say it was under better circumstances.”

  “Oh, I know. Can you believe what happened to Chloe?” Nat said it in her gossipy whisper. “Such a shame!”

  I did a mental head thunk and decided to do my best to be nice. See, Nat and Chloe were competitive. Mostly, Nat was competitive. Chloe just ended up getting a lot of the awards, and guys Nat seemed to covet. Including Jackson Everett, the dreamiest guy in our class, according to anyone with a pulse.

  I remember walking into American Lit class late one day, only to find Nat and Chloe drooling as he read a passage from Thoreau. Jackson had one of those captivating energies. He was tall, dark and handsome. His body was solid, his smile wicked, and his voice could enthrall a Siren, so I get why they crushed on him so hard. That day, he read a passage from Walden, “It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” It sounded so deep and intimate coming from him. The entire class fell in love. He was all any of us talked about for days. It became obvious Jackson was a charmer, fighting off many advances, but Chloe quickly became his favorite. They started dating a week later. Nina, Jos and I pegged them as the type of couple who would get married, have 2.3 kids, awesome careers, and a big house with the white picket fence.

  It wasn’t until months later, when Chloe met Tab, that she and Jackson broke up.

  Time had passed. I was so out of touch with nearly everyone from college. Jos was my only real link to people I once considered close. Last I remembered, Nat made a play for Jackson, Ethan had proclaimed his love for the freshman he’d been courting behind my back, no less, and Chloe needed serious help. I should have tried to get to her sooner. Guilt spread its razor-sharp edges and sank them into my core.

  “Hey Mattie.” Ethan came up and hugged me. It felt weird. Not just because we’d been estranged for so long, but there were no bells or whistles. Just a no-frills, lean-in-so-we-didn’t-touch-too-much hug. Totally unlike the sparks we once shared. My mind flashed back to a memory of us when we dated, but it flashed forward when he spoke.

  “Sorry to hear about Chloe, I know you two were close.” He sounded sincere.

  Chloe and I had been close, but we fell out of touch when I moved away. Mostly because she was going to school, making something of herself and I was tending to my own family problems. And because she wouldn’t leave Tab’s cruelty, but this didn’t seem like the place to bring it up just to correct Ethan. “Me too,” I said. We glanced awkwardly at each other and then around the room.

  Sensing she was no longer the center of the conversation, Nat interjected. “I heard it was pills.”

  I made a noise, but resisted going off on her. My brain started picking over the statement. If she’d heard about the pills, maybe she’d heard more. I started to evaluate the possibilities.

  I could do what I thought was right, and veer her off this topic ASAP, or dig for more details. Urgency and dread played leapfrog in my head and gut. What I was about to do went against my entire sense of decency, but it could lead to information about Chloe’s death. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to get to the truth, so I played a little of Nat’s game.

  “It was?” I did my best to sound shocked. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. My sister’s boyfriend heard it from a friend who works at the pharmacy Chloe frequented.”

  Even if she meant no harm, the way Nat said it made Chloe sound like a regular at a drug bazaar. Here we stood, gossiping at her funeral. I grit my teeth and pressed on. “Really. So, she had a prescription filled there?”

  “Oh, I heard it was more like her third or fourth.”

  “Wow, I’m surprised no one checked into it.” It was bait, hung out as far as possible.

  “They were. This friend said his manager had alerted the police, and they were looking into her doctor. I think it was a Dr. Avanti.”

  She’d snatched it up. Now I had a new lead. It was time to pick a little further. “Gee, wonder what Dr. Avanti did?”

  “They thought he might have sold prescriptions to a bunch of people. Something about owing a lot of money to some bad guy named Regina, or something. I guess Dr. Avanti liked betting on football, a lot.”

  “It sounds so crazy.” I knew she meant Ruggiano. I also knew it wasn’t totally far-fetched to think a doctor with a gambling problem might owe money to the mob.

  “I know,” Nat said. “Word on the street is this Regina gets his hooks in you, and he owns you. You either do what he says, or you die.” She sounded excited to talk about the mob connection. It just made me ill.

  Ruggiano was dangerous. I’d done a quick search before today’s event, and found out Ruggiano was really Rocco Ruggiano, born into a family of seriously dangerous gangsters. Now, reportedly running the family of seriously dangerous gangsters.

  Google, Wiki and a few other searches turned up information about all sorts of alleged criminal activity—gambling, prostitution, and drugs, to name a few—emphasizing alleged. The Ruggiano family appeared to be the fly-under-the-radar kind of mob. Until Rocco came along. One story reported he was the kind of guy to make a show—and wanted the Ruggiano name elevated to Capone status. If he had some connection to Dr. Avanti, and indirectly to Chloe, maybe he knew something about her murder.

  I took menta
l notes, memorizing everything so I could write it down later. There would be time for me to do more research tonight. I just hoped the information would lead to something significant.

  “Can we stop talking about this?” Ethan spoke.

  Although, it was hard to stop pushing, I was ready for it to be over too. I followed Ethan’s lead. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this now,” I said politely, keeping my investigation options open.

  “Agreed.” Nat played followed the leader and broached a new subject. “So, did Ethan tell you he’s single?”

  “No.” I watched Ethan turn fifty shades of red. “We haven’t exactly caught up yet.”

  “Oh, foo! You guys should totally get back together.” She spent a long time telling us all about the relationship we had years ago. As if we’d forgotten the highs—and the lows. Was Nat playing matchmaker? Yikes! Ethan and I laughed off her attempts, and finally changed the subject.

  “How’s your mom?” Ethan asked.

  “She’s doing okay. Still working to feel normal again.” Mom had a long way to go, but I planned to be by her side and help. The fact that the friends I knew so well in school had no idea I desperately needed a job, or that we lived above this funeral home, even though it was to help mom dial back the stress, was my fault. I still hadn’t come to terms with it. It really shouldn’t have mattered, but at a reunion where everyone else seemed to be doing what they wanted with their lives—working, dating, and getting their own places—details of my life fell short. I guess the omission was part of my effort to feel some kind of normal.

  “That’s good.”

  Ethan and I talked about my mom’s progress, and our move back to the area. I kept the details private. Just that we moved recently, and I’d be finishing school part-time. Nothing about our home above the dead. Telling them my secret now might have garnered pity, or charity—and I didn’t want either.

  “If you need anything, just holler.”

  Not quite ready for Ethan’s comfort, or a longer trip down memory lane than Nat gave us, my eyes darted away and searched for Jos. She should be around here somewhere.