Red Ochre Falls

by Kristen Gibson

  Millie gave me a ju-ju-to-go kit filled with vials, some herbs, and instructions. Then she handed me a small bible. “Keep dis with ya. Use the time to read Psalms. Try Psalm 16. It’ll help protect you.” She hugged me then pushed us out the door.

  I contacted mom to let her know I’d probably be home late. Then, I called Cal. “Tell Garrett I’ll get koala.”

  I had no idea how a cute and cuddly animal was going to help Garrett, but there wasn’t time to ask Cal.

  Cal instructed us. “Get to his car and meet me at Hogan. I’ll send a link. Just open it and follow the map.” He clicked off.

  Garrett smiled when he heard ‘koala’, which made me feel, well uneasy, but more inclined to go along with this plan.

  We got to the Maserati and Garrett gave me the keys.

  “You should drive. I’ll navigate and keep in contact with Cal. You aren’t used to the com-link, and me giving you instructions would be too distracting.”

  Five minutes into the ride I finally breathed. The car ran great, Garrett held steady, and we headed toward Cal.

  “About Tess,” he said.

  “Let’s not do this now. You’ll be fine.”

  “It’s important you know what happened.”

  I didn’t want details of what happened between Garrett and his ex-lover. Not now, not ever.

  “She—”

  “Garrett, please.”

  “Mattie, it’s important.”

  I huffed, but let him speak.

  “She was the one.”

  “Really? You’re doing this now? Can’t you just let me drive?”

  “That’s not what I meant to say. She was the one who sent the bodies to me.”

  And suddenly, air left the vehicle. I couldn’t breath.

  “The bodies were found near the river, in Ruggiano’s territory. She was scared that he might be involved. He’d helped her when her family wouldn’t and she thought she owed him. She wasn’t trying to cover them up, just buy him some time.”

  So, Tess wasn’t as horrible as I’d hoped.

  “She knew I’d send them back and hid it from me, so no one would get in trouble.”

  “Then why tell you about it?”

  “She didn’t want me thinking she was covering something up. She wanted us to get back together.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing. It’s over between Tess and me.”

  “What about jumping the minute she texts?”

  “She told me it was about your case. I did it to help you find Chloe’s killer.”

  “What about the reports? Why didn’t she note the needle marks on the other victims?” I changed lanes and noticed a black Mercedes do the same.

  “She showed me her original notes. They were in there. She told me Detective Marlucci asked for the files. He may have had something to do with covering it up.”

  “Do you think someone is trying to frame Ruggiano?”

  “Possibly. He wants fame, but he doesn’t want to get caught.”

  “Garrett? I think someone’s following us.”

  He looked back. “Move to the right lane.” We moved. The car followed. “Now, move to the left lane.” We moved. It followed.

  Garrett faced forward with more color than he’d had in an hour, and let out a breath. “Let’s see what they want. Increase your speed.”

  I pushed the gas pedal and watched as the speedometer moved up to 85, 90, then 95. The sedan closed the gap and rammed us. I struggled to hold the car steady, but managed to change lanes to avoid a minivan.

  The sedan sped up and steered into the rear passenger side, which sent us skidding toward a semi. I gripped the wheel, eased off the throttle, and steered out of trouble. The way I’d practiced when mom insisted I learn to navigate icy roads before she’d even consider letting me take my driver’s exam. They should make bad weather driving and steering out of a skid required for all drivers.

  Garrett looked at me and smiled.

  Noticing the car come up behind us again, I swerved to the fast lane, hit the gas, and put the semi between us.

  I sped up until we were well ahead of the semi and changed lanes. Every move I made, the Mercedes followed.

  They stopped trying to rear end us for several minutes as we increased speed to about 120 mph. We cleared traffic, but Garrett let Cal know we needed backup.

  I moved to the right lane in case we needed to make an emergency exit, the Merc stayed on our left. A mile before exit 41, I glanced back at our pursuers. Blacked out windows made it impossible to see anything inside.

  “Car!” Garrett yelled and grabbed the oh-crap bar.

  I barely missed a truck. The Merc used the distraction to ram us in the left side. Already loose from me jerking the wheel to miss the truck, our car fishtailed. Foot eased off the gas, I tried to regain control when they hit us again. The blow shook my organs. Our car hit the shoulder, ran through an Adopt-a-Road bag, which sent garbage flying. We plowed through some grassy stuff and dove headfirst into a gulley where our car came to rest.

  We were banged up, but the Maserati took the brunt of the damage. Probably totaled. I would have hung my head in shame, but Garrett came to the driver’s side and yanked me out before something zoomed past us and hit the car. He dove and pulled me down with him right before the impact. Then an explosion.

  We ran for cover and heard gunfire. Thirty seconds of rapid fire and it was over.

  Cal rescued us, drove us to the airfield and presented the ‘Koala’. My jaw dropped.

  “Here it is. The AW119Kx, a single engine state-of-the-art machine equipped with a Garmin G1000H Integrated Flight Deck System, extra fuel capacity, luxury seating, and air conditioning.” He eyed Garrett. “Better than that toaster we flew in the desert, and built in these United States.”

  I didn’t know a helicopter could be sexy, but this one was all that and more.

  Garrett grinned at the silver and black bird. “Our Indian Hills friend came through.”

  “Yup.”

  I stared.

  “If you hadn’t said Millie was involved, I’d have thought you were crazy,” Cal said.

  “It is crazy, but we’ve got our orders.”

  We boarded the chopper. Cal went up front. The engine started and blades rotated. It’d be noisy, but much quicker than driving, and able to land closer to the falls than a plane could manage.

  We heard him over the speakers. “Buckle up and relax you two. We’ll be cruising at about 140 knots before you know it.”

  In the time it took us to fly up north, Garrett started to look less like a corpse. I tried a half dozen times to search Brampton Corporation on my smartphone, I was able to read a blurb about the benefits of oil and gas exploration, and the first part of their annual report.

  Something else Sultan said about Brampton had struck a nerve. My suspicions were confirmed when I remembered Chloe’s notebook. She’d circled the word ‘Enlightened’ several times.

  I copied some notes she’d written about the Sigo family into my phone. Someone from Brampton visited them after Ruggiano and his goons. I searched for the name then compared it to the board members. The second victim was on the board of Brampton. She’d visited the Sigo family as Jimbo’s replacement, to extend them another offer.

  Sigo mentioned he noticed an unmarked car, likely the police following her, not tribal authorities, when the woman left his home.

  I told Garrett then launched into all the coincidences surrounding Mrs. Jacobson, Ruggiano, and Brampton. He laughed a huge belly laugh.

  “There’s no way she’s involved. I don’t think she would hurt anyone. Besides, she’s not strong enough to have dumped the bodies.”

  “What about an accomplice? Or the association with Ruggiano?”

  “Plenty of people were at the fundraiser, and even more know him personally. The charity might be a good place to look for other suspects.”

  Garrett leaned closer and held my gaze. It felt something like a spark igniting. My cheek
s flushed.

  “What make you think she would kill someone?”

  “She’s hiding something. And she uses the same kind of paint they found on the victims.”

  “Smart observations, but what’s her motive? Ruggiano makes a better suspect. He’s got a lot to lose, and he’s proven he can kill.”

  “Maybe they’re connected?” Something about Mrs. Jacobson and Ruggiano felt odd. We needed more answers.

  Cal found a clear spot and set the helicopter down. He opened our door and I got out gingerly. Garrett had to help me out. The vibration had aggravated recent injuries, and my legs were wobbly.

  The three of us got our bearings. We made a plan to head toward the falls together. Cal and I would help Garrett, only if he needed, as Garrett had insisted he was mostly fine.

  Cal set us down on a small clearing, but we still had to hike a bit to get to the falls. Millie had insisted that the antidote would only work, if we got the plants that were by the falls. Something about the trees, and tannins in the water. I had too much to think about, so I trusted her, and just went with it.

  I’d never seen the falls in person. We’d planned to, the summer Tab tried to force himself on me. The lake house was a short drive from here—appropriately named, Paradise—and we thought it would be an adventure to find out why so many people considered this part of the UP God’s country. Maybe the entire Upper Peninsula was Paradise. Hard to tell. After the incident with Tab, I headed home, never to see Tahquamenon Falls.

  What I’d seen from the chopper was breathtaking, and from the ground, it looked even more stunning.

  The place felt mystical, like elements beyond our earth resided here. It humbled me. I breathed in the autumn air—the scent of maple, oak, and rain. Already dressed in deep auburn and gold, the canopy shielded us from a light mist that had begun falling.

  Cal told us we were less than a quarter-mile from the water. We trekked ahead hearing the falls as we approached. The place vibrated, giving off secrets in a low, mystical hum, which became amplified the closer we got.

  Garrett took the lead, leaving me in the middle, and Cal at the rear. I squinted to see if I could get a glimpse of the water when a boom made me jump. We heard a gasp followed by a heavy thud. Garrett looked behind us, then at me and yelled. “Run!”

  Confused, I stayed planted. It took me a second to figure out Cal had been shot. When it hit me, I followed Garrett’s advice and ran toward the water. My heart pounded so hard and fast I couldn’t hear anything but the thudding in my chest.

  I sprinted past American Beech, Easter Hemlock, Yellow Birch and Sugar Maples—as I’d read in the information packet Millie gave me. Was I doing the right thing? Should I have stayed to help Garrett and Cal? What was I going to do when I reached the edge of the woods?

  All I knew was Garrett had told me to run. And like a good soldier, I ran. Millie had given me a higher objective—find the balm and save Garrett. So I ran to save him.

  My breath and footfalls were harder to hear closer to the falls. I gasped upon emerging from the trees. The water was powerful. Its reddish brown tint, like root beer streaked with rust, added more color to the landscape. There was no time to enjoy it. I pulled out a photo of the plant we needed and started searching.

  Grass and wild things were fading. Part of the ground was littered with needles, so it took me a while to filter those out. Finding the specific seeds proved challenging because I was nervous and shaking. Millie told me to trim a three-inch section of root because the seeds might not be viable, and to gather some seeds, just in case.

  I pulled out the jar Millie sent, unscrewed the lid, and bent near the ground. Using a pair of her clippers, I dug at a thin layer of earth a couple feet from the base of the tree until the roots revealed themselves. A gentle tug allowed me access to clip a section off. It went in the jar and I sealed lid. I placed the jar in a dry bag, sprayed the cut roots with something Millie gave me, patted some earth over them to help keep out insects, then scooped up some seeds.

  I made sure to get extra knowing Millie could probably reanimate just about anything. Sultan was likely to come after us, and we might need them.

  When all was finished, I closed the dry bag, and—

  Someone knocked me down.

  I moved to get back up, but whoever was there pushed my cheek to the ground and held me there.

  “I came for you, Mattie,” he cooed.

  A little bile came up in my throat. “How did you find me here?” I tried to act like I had things in control, but I was terrified.

  “You should know by now, I can find you anywhere.” He enjoyed the threat.

  “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

  “Oh, but I do. You left us no choice.”

  “Us?”

  Tab didn’t respond. He looked in the direction of an observation deck—at no one— and applied pressure until my spine felt like it would snap.

  “We finally get to see just how much you want me.” He bore down and the pain in my back burned.

  “I don’t! Stop it!”

  “Why don’t you make me?”

  I tried, but couldn’t move or do anything. Garrett ran out of the woods and tackled Tab. They scrummed on the ground, but quickly shot up and stood to fight.

  Tab swung. Garrett blocked him. Then Garrett threw a punch. They went back and forth, swinging and blocking. Every time Tab lunged forward, Garrett had a response, until Tab caught him with a body shot that took his breath away. I gasped. Garrett looked to see if I was okay, and Tab punched him in the kidney.

  Tab watched Garrett fall. I grabbed a thick branch that littered the ground and ran toward Tab. I swung it like a bat. Tab blocked it with his right arm. Then with his left, he shoved me backwards.

  Tab threw the branch toward the trees and reached for me. I moved to avoid his angry grasp. Not fast enough. He grabbed me from behind and lifted me off the ground. I struggled to break free, but couldn’t remember training. Any of it.

  Tab carried me to the water. I shouted for him to stop and pounded my objection on his arms. He kept going even after we left land for shallow water.

  We were at the top of the falls. I saw the drop. He planned to throw me over. I had no idea if it would kill me, but roughly 50,000 gallons per minute of rushing water might drown me before I reached the bottom, or before I figured out which end was up. I fought, wiggled, screamed, and then by accident, head-butt him. It did more damage to my head than his.

  “Crap!” he yelled.

  “Ouch!” It felt like I broke my skull on his stupid head.

  I had my bell rung, banging inside my head. Tab got mad as a hornet and pushed me down. He grabbed me by the neck. An icy shock pulsed from head to chest as he shoved me facedown under the water.

  He was drowning me. I resisted, arms flailing, struggling to break the surface for a breath. I got hold of his plaid shirt and yanked. It didn’t do anything, but I kept fighting. He brought me up once to yell something about being stubborn while I coughed up water.

  His tirade was the break I needed. The impact and cold water must have shook something loose—I remembered something from the gym. I linked my hands and used the power behind both arms to shove my elbow into Tab’s groin. It must have worked, because he squealed and let go. While he tended to his family jewels, I got up, soaking wet and coughing, and trudged through the water toward shore.

  Just before I got there, Tab reached out and pulled me down. I faced the sky for a few seconds while he climbed on top of me. I’d seen that look on his face once before and I would do anything to stop him.

  His eyes widened as he bent to whisper vile things in my ear. My fingers desperately stretched until they found a large rock. When it was in my grasp, I lifted the weight and hammered it into Tab’s skull a couple times. He fell to the ground either passed out, or dead. It was hard to tell and I didn’t care. The rock dropped.

  I rolled over and a double barrel shotgun was pointed at me.

  �
��Damn shame you made such a mess.” The southern drawl was unmistakably Thibodeaux. So were the crazy eyes. He ordered me to get up. Instinctively, I looked back at Tab, still frozen on the ground.

  “I’ll deal with him later. Ladies first.” Thibodeaux prodded me with the shotgun to move us closer to the tree line. “You look surprised to see me, Mattie.”

  Surprised? I was in shock. The man being groomed to take over the governorship of Louisiana had me hostage in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. “Did you follow us?”

  “Those were my guys back there. They called when they saw you two heading out of the city. Ruined a perfectly good Mercedes, no thanks to you.” He relaxed and let the shotgun hang a little low. He caught me eyeing it. “I wouldn’t try anything if I were you. Most self-respecting southern gentlemen are taught to handle rifles at an early age.”

  “Most self-respecting gentlemen don’t go around shooting cops and taking hostages. So, now that we know you’re not respectful, or a gentleman, why don’t you tell me why you’re here?” I was wet, cold and my head felt like it would explode any second. I had no time to mince words.

  “If I were my daddy, I’d backhand you. But I’m not my daddy. Guess you got lucky.” He had an air of nonchalance that bothered me.

  “Guess so.” I waved my dirty, scraped up arms and sounded irritated.

  He adjusted his grip on the gun to remind me of my place. “Answer my questions, and we can make this quick. How much do you know?”

  “I must not know much if I’m standing here with you and your shotgun.”

  “My boy has a soft spot for feisty ones.” He snickered. “Now, tell me what you know before I wake him up and have him beat it out of you. Or do whatever else is necessary to get you to tell me what I want to know.”

  My stomach turned sour. I didn’t know if it would be that easy to wake Tab up, but I sure as heck didn’t want to find out. The voice in my head was screaming ‘Get out!’ But he had a gun.

  I stared at Mr. Thibodeaux and his gun. Images flashed in my brain. Brampton Corp. was a sponsor of the Children’s Literacy Coalition. The company held a variety of assets, mostly concentrated in gas and oil. Then it hit me. He must have been one of Brampton Corp.’s shareholders.