Red Ochre Falls

by Kristen Gibson

  “Can I at least clean this up?” I asked Garrett who was checking out the living room.

  “No, we need to leave it for the police.”

  “Okay,” I huffed, frustrated. I decided to see if there was anything on her desk.

  Most of the papers looked like more of what I’d found on the floor. Very few work files. Strange considering she lived and breathed work. Plus, the dock for her laptop was empty. Perhaps, whoever broke in took her other work files and computer. The bad guys could already have the information they wanted. How would we be able to do anything if it was lost?

  While shuffling through the papers, I started to doubt our chances of finding anything in this mess, and sank into Chloe’s desk chair.

  I swiveled back and forth in a daze. Then I noticed a photo of us at the lake. You could tell we’d been on the lake all day—sun burnt smiles and oily ponytails. We looked happy, but it was slightly out of focus, and it later turned out to be a bad night for us all. I was surprised to see it taking up valuable real estate on her desk. It was the night Tab jumped me. Even though Chloe and Tab had a complicated relationship, I couldn’t believe she would like the constant reminder of his cruel behavior. Maybe seeing him at his worst helped her stay away from him. Still, it seemed unusual.

  I picked up the frame and looked it over. Six of us—Chloe, Tab, Patrick, Jos, Nina and me—posed with the lake house in the background. Other than Tab, I didn’t know of anyone who might have been relevant to what’s going on, so I flipped the picture around to examine the silver frame. That’s when I noticed something on the back near the stand.

  Three numbers, which looked like a date, but it wasn’t the date the photo was taken. I remembered that one well. This date was off by a few months, although, it seemed vaguely familiar. I took a sheet off her flowery pink note stack, wrote the numbers exactly as she had, then stuffed it in my pocket.

  When the frame was back in place, we continued to search the place for clues. If she’d left me a message on the photo, maybe she’d left others. I took another pass at her personal files. She kept a large monthly bills file with a logbook. There were a lot of bills: phone, gas, electric. We didn’t have time to read everything, so I snagged that file and a couple others to review later.

  Garrett and I worked our way through the Living Room and Kitchen, where the previous intruders had searched. There were some open drawers and cabinets in the bedroom and bath, but nothing stood out. Even the laundry room was a bust, so we locked up and headed back to the parlor.

  Rain pelted the car as we drove. My feet hurt and my stomach was angry for not feeding it sooner. I needed to eat, change, and get warm.

  The original plan had been to get home. I’d grab a hot shower while Garrett picked up dinner. He ended up on a call to Cal. That didn’t bother me. What got under my skin was the text Tess sent. Whatever she wrote made him drop everything and run, which made me livid. We argued. Garrett told me what Tess said was important, and he had to meet her. What I heard was ‘she’s more important than you’.

  He left. I sat there fuming for ten or fifteen minutes before the cold got to me. I was damp down to my bones and started to shiver. Garrett wasn’t there to help warm me up. But I didn’t need his help. A hot shower and whatever was stashed in my fridge would suffice.

  I stormed off into the hallway and a noise stopped me in my tracks. It didn’t sound like a normal-house-settling kind of noise. I took a second and considered my options. Head for the apartment, and I’m locked in, but possibly trapped. Head out of the house, and I have a shot at screaming loud enough to get someone’s attention, if anyone was out in this weather. Either way, running felt like the smart move.

  Everything remained still, except the thudding in my chest. I took a deep breath then ran for the door.

  Just as I hit full stride, a Marvel Comic bad guy on steroids stepped in my way and I slammed into him.

  The impact didn’t appear to move him an inch, but it sent me flying. I landed on my ass. Hard. He reached out to pick me up with his meat hooks, but I scrambled through the viewing room door before he could get to me.

  Once on my feet, I fled toward the front of the house. I didn’t look back, but I could hear him slam open the door and bound after me. All the flowers and chairs from Chloe’s service were gone, only the antique furniture and drapes that belonged to the room remained.

  I pushed my way through the door to the front hall and bounced off an exact duplicate of the human cyborg chasing me. I fell to the floor, again. Then turned to get up and run, only I was too slow. Before I could get anywhere the first mammoth came up from behind and hoisted me in the air.

  I struggled, yelled, and kicked air. It felt like the same beast that’d threatened me at the brick wall. He had me wrapped up tight all over again. I saw his arms and knew it was the same guy.

  When I wouldn’t stop wriggling, he asked his partner for an assist. Actually, it sounded more like a grunt. Just as the guy got close enough to reach for my legs, I nailed him in the groin. He flinched, turned purple, and fell to the ground.

  The clone, or whatever you want to call him, dropped me to shield his family jewels, and I started to run. Before I could reach the front door, the first guy stuck his hand out and tripped me. I went head first into the carpet, and nearly sprained my wrist bracing for the fall. As I lay crumpled, I wondered if there was any way out of this. There was a sitting room to my right, a formal office to my left, and a giant door to freedom a couple feet in front of me. Great, if only the bad guys didn’t have me pinned down.

  “Ha-ha-ha! Very entertaining.” The voice startled me. One of the goons must have received a signal, because he nodded at the figure. The big guy yanked me up by the hair, and restrained my arms, as Ruggiano emerged. “You like these guys? I call them Thor’s Twins. It’s catchy. Don’t you think?”

  Making up nicknames for the battering ram twins? This guy was seriously unstable. “What are you doing here?”

  “You ask too many questions.” Ruggiano nodded to one of the men and glared at me. “Take this nosy bitch downstairs. It’s more private there.”

  Thor’s Twins pulled out zip-ties, and went to work on my hands and feet. They shoved a white cloth laced with night-night juice over my face. I struggled and tried to jerk myself loose. About a second later, I passed out.

  CHAPTER 21

  Things looked hazy as I regained consciousness. It was cold and my body ached. I was tied up in the basement. I hated basements. This, I hated more.

  A funeral home basement is about the worst place on earth to be when you’re being held against your will. It’s not like it was a cozy space with daylight windows, or a walkout. This was a place things went to be forgotten, or buried. At least it’s how it felt with the 1950s washer-dryer set mocking me from a nearby corner.

  No one was going to see, or hear me through the tiny covered windows. No one was going to pass by, because on nights we didn’t have viewings, or meetings, no one bothered to come near the place.

  My head swayed, and my eyes kept opening and closing. I knew Ruggiano was dangerous, but right now he flat out terrified me. I started twisting my wrists to break free, and searched for a way out. As it stood, there was none, except the rickety stairs behind the thugs holding me hostage. I shivered from the cold and my hopeless situation.

  “I wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for that scum Sultan,” Ruggiano said to one of his men. “And this one’s as stupid as her father. Who is she protecting anyway?”

  I tried to act passed out, but shock jarred my insides. What did Ruggiano have to do with my dad?

  “Her family’s been a thorn in my side for years. We deal with Sultan. Then we take care of her family.”

  The best I could do was blink off and on as if struggling to break a cobweb haze.

  “What do you want?” I sounded drunk, but it helped conceal my fear. Whatever Ruggiano wanted was must have been important. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here. Although,
he could be acting as brazen as the reports claimed.

  “It appears you have something I need.”

  I thought of a dozen sarcastic comebacks, but decided against using any of them until I knew his intentions. This was not the time to get into a discussion of what he needed from a ‘girl like me.’ I kept cool.

  “What do you mean?” I winced because talking with a swollen face hurt. A lot.

  “I think you know exactly what I mean.”

  If he knew about the key, he must be connected to Chloe’s case, and probably her death. If not, then I was in more trouble than I thought. But I had to find out. So, I tried to get him to tell me. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. Can you elaborate?”

  “Tom Clark gave it to you at the viewing and I want it. Maybe you can tell I come from rough beginnings. Patience doesn’t run in my family. And I think you know what kind of family I’m talking about.”

  “Capone or Corleone?” It was a dig at his mob-ness. He knew it, but studied me and bared his teeth. Maybe shooting off my mouth was not such a good idea.

  My hands were tied so tight there was no wiggle room. My desperate wrist contortions only made things worse, and the strap dug deeper into my skin. Breathing hurt and the pain seared from having my hands bound behind my back so long. I needed to get out of here. I tried talking, actually reasoning with him, but could only croak out a weak appeal. He was in charge, and wasn’t interested in listening. He wanted the stage all to himself. Speaking was a performance to him, like he held some imaginary audience captive, not just me. He moved closer. My gut clenched as the smell of his cologne mixed with the damp odor of the place. The single light bulb hanging from the grey ceiling cast his face with monstrous shadows. I searched the room for another way out. Nothing. Absolutely nothing came to mind. I braced myself, closed my eyes and thought, we all come from somewhere. Then he knocked me out. Cold.

  I woke up and tasted blood. “Ouch!” It burned from my cheek to my eye. It couldn’t be good to get knocked out this many times in a day.

  “I gave you fair warning. Stop nosing around and give me what I want,” he menaced.

  One of the big guys yanked back my hair until I thought it might rip out of my head in one clump.

  “Ow! Okay, I give!” I thought of how to cover. If we kept busy talking, maybe someone would find me. “He said he wanted to express his condolences to the family, but they were surrounded by people…all doing the same thing. I guess he had a work thing and needed to leave. He came to the office looking for help. He found me.” My head hurt, it was distracting. “Can you tell Thor #1 to ease up? I’d hate to pass out before I give you what you want.” Okay, not the smartest thing to say, but it worked. He loosened his grip on my scalp just enough for my face to fall back into place.

  “Thanks.”

  “You were saying.” Ruggiano wanted me to talk.

  “The guy asked me to give Mr. and Mrs. Ellis an envelope. Said there was a note inside.”

  “What did it say?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t read it.”

  “Smart ass. What did Tom say about the note?”

  “Tom wanted to tell them how much he respected Chloe. That he enjoyed working with her.” I eyed him to see if he believed the story. “He thought it might help the family to know she was appreciated.” It seemed plausible. Ruggiano could have bought it.

  “Look, cookie. I’ve seen plenty of smart girls like you make mistakes. In case you haven’t noticed, it never ends well.” He bent down and got in my face. His thick brows furrowed above dark brown eyes. “So, I’m gonna ask you again. Where is it?”

  I was angry, and possibly insane, because I started laughing at him. Hysterically.

  “You think that’s funny?” Ruggiano got mad. This time he had one of his goons try to break me. Thor #2 yanked my head back and squeezed my neck until I thought it would break apart from my body.

  “Ow! Ow! OW!” I screamed. Something sounded like tearing, and there may have been a pop. I tried to force back tears, but the pain sizzled.

  “No answer yet? Maybe you need the right motivation?” The goon squeezed harder. “Should we continue, or maybe we should find someone you actually give a damn about and hurt them?” Ruggiano smiled at my pain.

  “No, wait!”

  Ruggiano and the Thor Twins outnumbered me. There was no guarantee if I gave him anything that I’d live to see tomorrow. So, I had to stall.

  “I’ll give it to you, but I have to get it first.”

  Thinking on my feet, I told him it was in a safe deposit box. We’d have to wait to do the exchange until the bank re-opened. He looked at me for signs of a bluff, but I focused on the pain in order to block out the lie. He bought it.

  “Go get it first thing. I’ll arrange for one of my ‘Twins’ to pick it up.”

  “I will.”

  I studied Ruggiano this time. Trying to get a read on whether he believed me, or if he planned to end my life now. He looked undecided.

  Ruggiano signaled for the guys to let me go. Either they were unhappy with Ruggiano calling them ‘his twins’ or they had no idea how to treat a lady. The brutes nearly sliced me open cutting the zip-ties off then pushed me onto the floor.

  “You better not be lying, or I’ll find you and really break you.” Ruggiano liked threats. Probably made good on a lot of them, too. He kicked at my side, and began his ascent with his twins.

  I curled up and sobbed. Only for a couple minutes, because my instinct to flee kicked in—before Ruggiano changed his mind and came back to finish me.

  Panicked, I staggered up to my apartment, turned on the lights in every room, and called Cal. My bat was near my bed, so I grabbed it, curled up under the covers, and cried some more.

  Garrett arrived ten minutes after my call. He tried to buzz me over the intercom, but I wouldn’t respond.

  “Mattie? Are you okay?” He waited. “Mattie?”

  I couldn’t speak. Too much had happened.

  “I’m coming up,” he sounded really concerned. He should be. What was he thinking running off to see Tess?

  Knock, knock, knock, knock. I knew he was coming, but I jumped anyway.

  “Mattie, are you hurt? Let me in!”

  “Mattie,” I heard Cal this time. He sounded calmer than Garrett. “Can you open the door?”

  Instinctually, I shook my head ‘yes’ even though he couldn’t see me. I pushed off the covers. My feet hit the floor. Everything felt so cold as I walked slowly out of the bedroom.

  “Are you coming?” Cal used his relaxed tone.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Okay, you’re doing great. Just unlock the door and let us in, we’re here to help.”

  By the time I got to the door, the bat was shaking in my hands. I turned the locks. They waited for me to open the door.

  Garrett rushed in, but Cal gave him a look of warning. I felt wobbly.

  The next thing I knew, I woke up in a hospital bed.

  There was shrill beeping followed by a bunch of muffled sounds as my brain came to, then I was out.

  I started to wake up, again. How’d we end up here? Bad guy images flashed like film bits, and I had to force my eyes open to make the pictures stop. My head throbbed. I hoped the doc would give me something stronger than an ice pack for this headache.

  When the doc walked in and flashed a smile. My mouth dropped open. Maybe he didn’t notice.

  “Hi, I’m Dr. Maxwell.” He extended his hand to shake mine. He lingered there a moment, and looked into my eyes. Okay, so maybe he noticed and was just giving it back to me, but he was young and good looking.

  My doctor had dark hair and brown eyes, and looked like he could still be in med school. He flashed a light and looked into my eyes. I knew he was checking my pupils or something. I’d seen them do it to mom before, but it was so bright, I pulled back. He looked me over even after the light went out. I got the feeling he was trying to figure something out. Maybe he was surprised by my
injuries.

  Cal and Garrett brought me in, so they would have had to say something about my condition at check-in. Not sure if there was an “injured by a psychopath” check box on the admittance forms, but I’m guessing Cal had to tell them some version of the story.

  “Says here you had a bad fall, is that right?”

  “Yes.” I hesitated, but figured it was best to play along.

  “From a hayride,” he sounded skeptical.

  I hoped he didn’t notice the corners of my mouth resisting a smile. “Thrown actually. I was thrown from the ride. Shouldn’t have piled those hay bales so high, or let the horses go so fast.”

  Dr. Maxwell didn’t believe me at all, it was obvious, but he didn’t pressure me for the truth. “The good news is you don’t have a concussion.”

  “The bad news?”

  “You’ll be bruised and sore for a while. You should get some rest the next couple days. Is there someone who can help you around the house?”

  “Yes,” I lied.

  Dr. Maxwell eyed me. He tore off a prescription sheet and handed it to me. “Here’s something for the pain. My number is on there too. If you have any trouble, or if you need anything, feel free to give me a call.”

  I thanked him.

  Garrett came in just as Dr. Maxwell left. Garrett eyed the good doctor for a beat then turned his full attention to me. He sat at my bedside and gave me an overview of what he and Cal discussed. Cal had left for the police station. He planned to meet us later and take my statement. Cal was a cop, and I trusted his instincts. Even if it felt weird, I’d find a way to let him know about Tess and her texts.

  Garrett promised to have a guard posted at the funeral home. If mom asked any questions, we’d tell her it was part of a security test. Garrett called it a concierge service they were ‘looking into’ for high-end clients, people who wanted extra protection during services and funerals. It startled me to consider a security detail, but I trusted Garrett.

  Besides, I’d seen the guy the police brought to his kid’s funeral in an orange jumpsuit and shackles—security might not be a bad idea.