It hit Marshall again. He had forgotten that part. He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes, refusing to believe that someone so wonderful could be caught up in something so cruel and evil. “You said you and your grandfather’s last name was Lloyd. You’re related to Officer Tom Lloyd and the man whose house I met you in a few days ago?”
Samantha nodded. “I was adopted when I was a teenager by the man you met, but his name isn’t Jonah, it’s Abraham Lloyd. Officer Lloyd is his nephew, so technically, he’s my cousin by adoption. Everything you said last night—I mean, your story—is it true?”
Marshall’s head started spinning, less with pain and more with all the implications that would come from this conversation. Jonah wasn’t Jonah at all but a member of the Lloyd family. He had played Marshall this entire time and had probably laid the trap that killed Ann and may have even killed Diane. He had fed them false information about how to kill an immortal. Information that had led to Ann’s death and very nearly his own.
“Marshall, I need to know what’s going on.”
Marshall snapped back to the present conversation and looked into Samantha’s worried eyes. He imagined how confused she must be.
“Sam, I’m not crazy, and I know this is hard to hear, but it is the truth. Please believe me. Your adopted family are descendants from the founding family of this county. They have discovered the key to living a much longer life and it has corrupted them. They have control of the entire city and maybe even further up the political line. How far, I’m not sure.”
Samantha ran a tongue over her lips and let out a deep sigh of her own. “I’m not saying I believe you fully, but it would make sense. I’ve suspected something for years but I’ve never had proof. Your story does sound crazy, but I just don’t know, Marshall. I want to believe you, but this is my family we’re talking about.”
Marshall’s mind raced to find a way to prove it to her. He had to have something, some kind of evidence. He couldn’t lose the only ally he had. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t lose her. “Give me your phone?”
“What?”
“Let me call your grandfather. I’ll put it on speaker and I’ll prove everything to you.”
Samantha hesitated but finally stood and walked out of the room. She came back with her cell phone in hand. “Here, you just have to press dial.”
Marshall accepted the phone and pressed the button. “You can’t say a word. No matter what. I’ll put it on speaker.”
Samantha nodded.
The phone rang once, twice, and a familiar voice came on the other end. “Well, how is my favorite granddaughter doing this morning?”
“She’s fine and is going to stay that way as long as you tell me Diane is still alive.”
There was silence on the other end. When he spoke again, all joy was gone and an edge of hate was very apparent. “I heard you got away last night. Your little friend Ann wasn’t so lucky though, was she?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be joining her very soon.”
There was a loud laugh on the other end. “Really? You killed an officer last night and there’s a warrant out for your arrest. So now you not only have my family and all of our assets looking for you but you have the police after you as well. To say that you have no hope seems like an understatement.”
“I have your granddaughter.”
“You mean my adopted granddaughter, don’t you? Boy, you are a winner, Marshall. I used you like a puppet to get to Diane and her little helper and now you’ve gone and kidnapped someone I don’t even care about. She’s not a member of this family. To tell you the truth, I had originally adopted her to sacrifice. It was only a fluke she lived.”
Marshall held the phone halfway between himself and Samantha and gritted his teeth. He couldn’t imagine how this made Samantha feel. He looked up. She was shaking with tears in her eyes. Marshall knew she had heard enough.
“You didn’t answer my question. Is Diane still alive?”
“For the time being. You can even have her back if you bring me what I want.”
“And what’s that?”
“You saw the second book that I brought to the warehouse? Well, Diane has the first book, the history of the Indian tribe that first found the stone. She’s stashed it away somewhere and I want it for my—collection.”
“I don’t know anything about a book. Why don’t you ask her?”
“Oh, I tried to get her to tell me. I asked her politely and then I asked her a little more persuasively. She’s a tough old bat. Won’t say a word. Find it and bring it to me tonight at the estate and I’ll spare both your lives.”
“What? I don’t know where to find the book!”
“You worked with her for six years. I’m sure you can find it if you try. You have until tonight at midnight. I’ll call off the manhunt for you until then. But if you don’t show, Diane is dead and it will only be a matter of time until we find you.”
There was a click on the other end and the line went dead. Marshall looked up at Samantha. She was a wreck. Her brow was furrowed in a mixture of confusion and anger. Her eyes were full of tears. “I’m sorry, Sam. I really truly am. But you had to know the truth. Your adopted family is not who you think they are.”
Samantha was still at first but slowly raised her eyes. Tears began to roll down her cheeks and the sight brought more pain to Marshall than either the gash on his head or on his wrists.
“It’s just so unbelievable. I mean, I do believe you. I heard the phone, but it’s so much to take in.”
“I know. Take your time. Stay here until I can figure out where this book’s hidden. I have to save Diane Whitmer. He’ll kill her if I don’t do something.”
Marshall lifted the sheets and comforter covering him and immediately replaced them. “Ummm… Sam? Where are my pants?”
“They were filthy and torn. I had to take off your clothes to clean you up.”
“Right,” he said, blood rushing to his face. “So where are they now?”
Samantha had to smile despite her tears as she read the panic in Marshall’s face. “Calm down, Mr. Modest. Your boxers are still on. Your clothes are in the dryer. I washed them last night. I didn’t realize you were such a prude.”
“Hey, I’m not a prude. I was just making sure I wasn’t taken advantage of during the night.”
“What? Please, as if. You were filthy and I’m not that kind of girl.”
“What kind of girl are you?”
Samantha wiped her eyes and stuck Marshall with a dangerous look that reminded him of Ann. “I’m the kind of girl that get’s even. Now where do we start looking for this book?”
Chapter 24
Clothed again, Marshall sat with Samantha at her kitchen table.
“So they don’t age at all if they’ve undergone the ceremony. I don’t understand it fully yet, but there’s some kind of power the sacrificial stone holds that grants them immortality.”
“I was adopted when I was twelve. But I should have seen it over the last ten years. Abraham hasn’t aged. I thought he was just really healthy and took care of himself.” Samantha shuddered and hugged herself.
“What is it?”
“What were they going to do with me when I did notice that they weren’t aging? I mean, in the next five to ten years I would have caught on.”
Marshall sat quietly looking at the empty plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. He didn’t have to say anything. They both knew exactly what would have happened to Samantha.
“Who is Diane Whitmer?” Samantha asked after a moment of silence.
Marshall guessed she had asked the question just to stop thinking of her own fate had things turned out differently. “She’s the last descendant of the family that founded the county with the Lloyds. The Lloyds killed them all except for her. Apparently she has some kind of book that holds information the Lloyds want. We have to find it to save her.”
“And you trust him? You think if you give him this book he’ll let you and Dian
e both go?”
Marshall only had to think about the question for a few seconds before he knew the answer. “No, he’ll probably kill us both and keep the book. We know too much now.”
“So we need a plan.”
“We? Sam, no. This is way too dangerous and I—”
“Do you really think you’re going to play the heroic macho card and tell me to stay at home? I’m not the damsel in distress here. Plus it sounds like you can use all the help you can get. I mean, you can’t really even take care of your car.”
Marshall had to grin as he looked at her from across the table. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was sitting straight upright. There was a fire in her eyes, a fire that he was beginning to admire and respect.
“Okay, well, if we’re going to do this we need to find the book first. Hopefully there’s something in there that will tell us how to kill them.”
“Let’s go,” Samantha said.
Marshall had to steady himself by reaching out for the table. His head was still throbbing. The pain in his wrists had subsided but whenever he twisted in a certain way, there was a sharp reminder of the events from the night before.
“You okay, Marshall?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Let’s go.”
“I have to grab something. I’ll meet you in the car.”
Marshall nodded, wondering what was so important. He looked out the window, making sure there were no shadowy figures or police officers waiting for him, then stepped outside. It was midmorning and the residential neighborhood was quiet. Marshall made his way to his car and sat inside, warming up the engine.
Samantha soon appeared from the house wearing dark green cargo pants, a tight fitting short sleeve shirt and carrying a backpack. Samantha joined him in the car and Marshall pulled out of her driveway.
“What’s in the bag?”
Samantha gave him a mischievous smile and pulled out one of the biggest handguns Marshall had ever seen. “Wow, where did you get that? Is that—is that a cannon?”
“I’m a single girl living in the city. I got it mostly to dissuade would be creepers, but I can shoot it, too.”
Marshall thought back to his own experience with using a gun on a Lloyd family member. “I’m not sure it’s going to do us any good.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I saw Tom Lloyd get stabbed three times and I shot him multiple times and all it did was piss him off.”
Samantha didn’t seem phased. “Well, we’ll see what happens when one of these immortals gets six bullets to the face.”
Marshall laughed out loud. “I’m glad you’re not one of those prissy girls who gets their nails done and goes to tanning salons.”
“What?” Samantha said with feigned indignation. “I have a natural tan and I do my own nails, see?” She held up her left hand that held the large handgun.
Marshall looked over and sure enough the fingernails wrapped around the cold steel metal were pink and black. “I stand corrected, but you may want to lower the gun, we’re in morning traffic.” Marshall motioned with a thumb to the car next to them that was also stopped at the light.
Samantha looked over and immediately lowered the weapon. There was an elderly woman sitting in the car next to them with her jaw dropped open, wide-eyed in horror.
Samantha quickly rolled down her window and smiled at the white-haired lady. “It’s okay. I just have it in case the ex comes around. It was a nasty divorce.”
The little old woman closed her jaw and lowered her own window. “Oh good, honey. You keep that close. I’ve been down that road before. Have a .22 of my own.”
Marshall pulled away from the older woman, laughing as the traffic moved forward. “I’m glad you’re handling this so well. I know I’m still trying to deal with it all.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’m handling it well at all. I’m just suppressing most of my emotions. You know, bottling them up in the unhealthiest way so they can haunt me later. I’m just dealing with the here and now. There will be plenty of time for me to break down, but right now we have a book to find.”
Marshall couldn’t argue and even agreed with her. He knew that was what he had been doing with the memory of his sister. So far it had worked for him. It had been easier and easier to forget his pain by burying it deep inside. But he knew it was just a matter of time before it would burst forth and consume him. In fact, it was beginning to already. His only consolation now was behind a bottle.
“So where are we looking first?” Samantha asked.
“I’m going to the place where Diane spent most of her time. If I had something that was so important to me I wanted to keep it close, I’d keep it in the place where I lived.”
“And where’s that? Her house?”
“Her—our work, the Hermes.”
Chapter 25
“Just keep your head down and don’t stop walking.”
Samantha nodded as the elevator doors slid open and Marshall took the lead, walking through the forest of cubicles to Diane Whitmer’s office.
Marshall walked as quickly as he could, nodding hellos where he had to and avoiding eye contact where he could. It would have been a good plan had Marshall not looked like he had just escaped a hospital. The bandage on his head and his wrists dropped more than one jaw in the office. The two made it to the large oak door that marked Diane’s office. Marshall gripped the handle and ushered Samantha in. He closed the door behind them as quickly and quietly as he could.
“Okay, that’s done, now let’s find this book before someone finds us in here and starts asking questions. “
“Sounds good,” Samantha said. “What does the book look like?”
Marshall was already studying the large bookcases that stood in Diane’s office. He was thinking back to the previous day in the warehouse when the man he had known as Jonah had shown them his. “Oh, you know, thick, dark brown, ominous looking.”
Samantha was standing back and examining the room with a finger on her chin.
Marshall took out any book from the bookshelf that looked liked it could be the one they wanted. Any that was large, or had a brown cover was plucked from its place and examined before being replaced once more. “It’s not here.” Marshall looked over at Samantha, who was still standing in the middle of the room biting on her lip.
“Are you going to help? You look like you’re trying to bore holes through something with that thousand mile stare.”
Samantha looked at Marshall. “Think about it. If you had your most prized possession in a room like this, the last place you would put it would be somewhere obvious.” She motioned with her hand and raised an eyebrow at Marshall. “Like a bookshelf.”
Marshall could feel his face turning red at the same time he realized she was right. “Well, where are we supposed to look?”
The room was just like he had last seen it so many times before. Bookshelves and framed awards lined the walls. There was a large desk in the middle of the room, a huge window behind it, and a thick carpet underneath.
“Check underneath the carpet. I’ll check behind the frames.”
Marshall obeyed, grabbing one side of the large, richly decorated rug. He rolled it forward as Samantha went to each frame, swinging it to the side to examine the wall behind it. Marshall had rolled the carpet all the way forward until it was hindered by the chairs and desk that sat in the office.
“Nothing behind the pictures. How about you?”
Marshall was moving the chairs from in front of the desk. “Does the carpet under the rug, the part closest to the desk, look newer to you?”
Samantha squinted. The carpet was a light crème color but the portion under the rug and close to the large desk seemed brighter.
“Here, help me.”
Marshall was struggling with the mahogany desk. Samantha lent him a hand and together they pushed the desk backward, closer to the window. Marshall rolled the rug even further forward, and there was no denying the fact that some
one had replaced a section of the carpet directly under Diane’s desk.
Both Marshall and Samantha dropped to their hands and knees. Marshall and Samantha ran their hands along the carpet searching for a loose spot or flap.
“Here,” Samantha said. She gently tugged at a portion of the rug and a rectangular flap folded over, revealing a metal box built into the floor. Marshall reached down and opened the metal container. Inside was something wrapped in a white cloth.
Marshall lifted the wrapped object and gently unfolded the soft material. A large brown book was revealed and Marshall laid it on the floor between himself and Samantha. “Well, here it is. We found it.”
Samantha’s eyes were wide as she gently opened the thick brown leather cover and slowly turned the yellow pages. It was all written in a different language. The symbols were strange and foreign but they had found the book that would save Diane’s life.
“Now what?”
Marshall looked at Samantha with a frown. “We have to find some way to read it. If the Lloyd family wants it so much, there has to be something in it that will help us. Maybe a weakness we can exploit or a loophole in the immortal structure. When Jonah—I mean Abraham— told us how to kill the immortals, Diane seemed hesitant to agree with him. Like she had thought there was another way. Maybe whatever that way is, however she thought the immortals could be killed is in this book.”
“We don’t even know what language it’s in.”
“It’s a kind of Native American. They were the first ones to discover the stone. They’re the ones that…” Marshall’s voice trailed off as Samantha who was still carefully turning the pages, stopped on one particular page.
It was a page like any other but this one held a picture instead of words. It was the rough sketch of a man on fire. Flames burst from around him and a twisted howl of pain contorted his face.
“This is some crazy stuff,” Samantha said.
Marshall rose to his feet, closed the hidden metal door and started to replace the rug. “We need to get to work. We have the rest of the day to try and translate as much of this book as we can and figure out a way to stop them. If we can’t, Diane Whitmer is dead.”
Bad Land Page 13
