Sticks & Stones

by Merdith Medina

  I hit the alarm code and followed Lacey out the door, locking it behind me with a confident click.

  “I… I’ll see you tomorrow, Fee,” Lacey stammered. She waved awkwardly and raced down the street away from us. She lived in the other direction, but Eli’s presence had obviously spooked her enough to make her forget her bearings.

  “Bye,” I said absently before taking a deep breath and turning to face my shitty boyfriend. “Great job. I wish I’d known you were coming, I could have warned her first.”

  Eli shrugged, he’d given up caring what people thought of him around the same time he had come to terms with his particular version of the afterlife. He knew he was intimidating to look at, and I knew that he liked it.

  “What are you doing here?” I wasn’t pleased to see him, and it looked like he knew it too. He shoved his hands into his pockets as I headed in the direction of my apartment.

  “Do you really let her call you ‘Fee’?” he asked, as though I hadn’t even said anything. “I thought nicknames weren’t your style,” he said casually, falling into step with me. I stopped walking and grabbed him by the elbow.

  “What the fuck is going on with you, Eli?” I was mad, and if he was going to act as if nothing had happened, he was going to get it with both barrels. “Where were you when all that shit was going down at Spiral? What the fuck is going on with you and those idiotic Blood Outlaws? Why does Oren want to see you so badly and why the fuck did you try to bite me? What the hell are you doing hanging around outside my work? You’re acting like a ghoul and you better plan to stop this bullshit, pronto!”

  Mad. Mad. Volcanic mad. I could feel my power crackling in my veins, and I knew that if he were dumb enough to try to lay a hand on me, I’d end up launching him through a store window without a second thought.

  Eli looked around nervously, but I didn’t care if anyone else was around. I wanted answers.

  “Ophelia, can’t we go home and talk about this?”

  “Home?” I coughed incredulously. “Home? You mean my home?” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him, seething.

  Eli hung his head and his shoulders slumped just a little. I half-expected him to kick an invisible rock in his attempt to look sheepish. I groaned and rolled my eyes.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything… just not here,” he glanced around again and I reluctantly realized that this might not have been the best place to talk. Those Blood Outlaw douchebags could be anywhere, Bishop’s pets could be anywhere…

  “Fine. Fine, you can come back to my place. You explain yourself, and then you get the fuck out, understand?” I kept my voice as brittle as I could. He owed me an explanation, and I didn’t owe him shit.

  “Deal,” he said with a quick smile. The brief glimpse of his fangs put me on edge again, but I allowed him to drape his long arm over my shoulder and pull me close as we walked towards my apartment building.

  * * *

  The walk was uneventful enough, but I could tell that Eli was distracted, which made me nervous.

  Were we being followed? What the fuck was going on?

  There was someone in the hallway when we came in, an older gentleman that I didn’t recognize. I had to fumble for my keys to get the door open. I could feel the man’s eyes on my back, and I fought the urge to turn around and snap at him. I don’t like being stared at, and today was the wrong day to test my self-restraint.

  I was used to not recognizing my neighbors, but stuff like that was starting to bother me. I paused and looked over my shoulder, but the man had let himself into another apartment before I could get a good look at him, the door slamming shut behind him.

  I stood in the hallway, my heart pounding as I stared at the door and tried to remember who lived in number 6.

  “Ophelia... come on,” Eli said quietly, and then pulled me into the apartment.

  * * *

  Eli didn’t stay the night, and our conversation was shorter than I had expected. He apologized again and tried to explain away his behavior by blaming it on the band.

  Eyerolls for days.

  “Seriously? You’re blaming this on the band?” I took a drink from the bottle of wine and stared at him incredulously.

  He had the good grace to look a little embarrassed. “Yeah. Bishop wants us to tour a new album, and I’m not ready to go into the studio again...”

  Fair enough... the last time he’d gone into the studio he’d walked out a Laudan.

  “He’s pressuring us pretty hard, and the rest of the guys are on board... but I don’t know.”

  I looked at him carefully, “What about your new guitarist?” The only human member of the band had only been around for a few months; I didn’t even know his name.

  Eli sighed, “Grady’s into it, but I don’t think he knows what signing that recording contract means, and I don’t know if I can tell him.”

  That would explain why the Blood Outlaws were keeping such a close eye on him. If Eli spilled the proverbial beans to the new guitarist, they’d have a very different problem on their hands that didn’t include a moody lead singer.

  I wasn’t sure if I believed that this was the root of his fucked up behavior, but it would do for now. Accepting his apology wasn’t difficult, but I wasn’t ready to let him back into my bed just yet.

  10

  I woke up to Suki sitting on my chest chewing on my nose, and my phone vibrating with text messages. I wasn’t due to go into the shop until ten, so getting texts this early in the morning was more than a little annoying. Especially with the headache that was hovering behind my eyes. I shouldn’t have drunk that second bottle of wine after Eli had left.

  I groaned as my phone vibrated off the stool I used as a bedside table and clattered to the floor. Suki meowed her tuna breath into my face and I pushed her away.

  “Are you sure you’re not just a demon in a cat skin?” I muttered as I sung my legs over the edge of the bed. I stared at my knees for a minute, trying to decide if I was going to throw up or not. Nope.

  My phone buzzed again, clattering on the floor. I grunted and picked it up, rubbing at my eyes with the back of my hand.

  Where ru?

  What time r u in?

  Lacey. Dear goddess, she never stopped. Another vibration.

  FEE. U HAVE TO GET HERE. SHIT’S UPSIDE DOWN.

  “Upside down?” I muttered.

  I texted her back quickly as Suki yowled for her breakfast. I needed a shower, some lavender tea to get rid of this headache, and then I’d go in. It was still way early; she must have been caught in a rush. Knowing Lacey, everything would be calmed down by the time I got in, and David didn’t like paying me for extra hours.

  Thirty minutes later, with lavender tea in a double-walled mason jar I’d swiped from a hipster bar down the street and my hair in braids I was walking towards the Haven and Lacey’s ‘emergency.’ But when I got there, it really was an emergency.

  The shop was full of people, but I was frozen in the street as I stared at the hand painted plate glass window... or I would have stared at it, if it hadn’t been shattered all over the sidewalk and into the shop.

  “Oh, holy shit.”

  Understatement of the century.

  “Fee! Oh my god, where have you been?” Lacey’s strangled shout came from inside the shop and she burst through the door and flung herself into me. She wrapped her arms around my waist and buried her face into my shoulder.

  “It’s so horrible,” she sobbed. “I got here and the window was broken, so I called Dave and he... he...” Lacey’s words were lost in her choked gasps.

  I hated shit like this. I didn’t cry. I hadn’t cried in years... and when I say years, I mean years. I patted Lacey’s shoulders awkwardly as her tears soaked through my shirt. Why did she have to cry?

  “Come on now, Lace, it’s just a window. Dave will get it fixed and we’ll get a few days off work. No big deal.” Come to think about it, I could use a few days off, this might work out better
than I had expected.

  “No! You don’t understand!” Lacey lifted her tear-streaked face and rubbed at the mascara running down her cheeks. With the amount that Lacey cried, she should really invest in some waterproof mascara.

  “Fee. It’s Rachel,” Lacey said haltingly.

  Dear, goddess, girl. Spit it out.

  “What about Rachel? Did she finally show up for a shift? I know she was supposed to open this morning,” I said, trying to get her to move things along. I could see David talking to a cop inside the shop and a few of the other coffee girls wiping at their faces as they huddled with David’s wife, Candace.

  Uh-oh. Something else was up. Something serious. Even from out here in the street I could feel everyone’s fear and terror. I grabbed Lacey firmly by the shoulders and gave her a little shake.

  “Lacey. What happened?” I could feel a little prickle of fear climbing up the back of my neck.

  “Rachel,” she snuffled. “She’s dead. The cop was calling David when her roommate reported her missing,” she snuffled. “This was the last place she was seen alive.” Lacey took a shuddering breath, her tear-filled eyes burning into mine. “They found her in the park, Fee. My god, I can’t even imagine...” Lacey dissolved into sobs again, leaning against my hands.

  More tears, great.

  But my heart was beating fast. First the window... that was bad enough. Who the hell would put a rock through that window? Then it dawned on me.

  Bastards.

  Why the hell did Eli have to come to the café? He’d obviously been followed. Those idiotic Blood Outlaws were behind this. It probably wasn’t too much of a stretch to guess that they were the cause of Rachel’s death too.

  I pulled Lacey against me and let her cry a little longer before I tugged her into the shop and turned her over to Candace.

  * * *

  The cop was taking statements, and I gave mine reluctantly. Rachel’s last shift had been with me, and she had left early, angry. I told them what I knew, but it wasn’t much, and they didn’t ask me for too much extra information. David took the cop to his office and bore the brunt of the interrogation while Candace tried to console the rest of us. They were treating the window like a break in. Whoever had done it had used one of the tall metal stools to smash every single breakable thing on the shelves to smithereens. The air was thick with the sugary smell of the pumpkin spice syrup as it dripped out of the broken bottles onto the wood floor behind the counter. That shit would be sticky for weeks.

  I was still trying to process what had happened, and the girls weren’t saying much, but there were whispers about how Rachel had been found.

  “In the rose garden... she’d been stabbed.”

  “I heard they found her by the duck pond... a jogger tripped over her leg.”

  This was why I wasn’t a jogger. They always found the most horrible shit. Traumatized joggers, it could be a movie trope all on its own.

  “The rose garden?” I asked suddenly. “The one in Prospect Park?” The girl who had said it was one of the newer casual staff members at the cafe, a round girl with a kind face and dark brown hair. She nodded carefully, suddenly shy; I don’t think I’d ever even talked to her before today, just nodded on my way out after a long Friday shift.

  “Yeah... I think so. The cop wouldn’t say much... but it seems likely. She lived pretty close by.”

  Of course she did, we all did. I had to get to the park. And fast.

  “If you’ve given your statements, you can go home,” said Candace, interrupting my furious thoughts. “David’s going to handle all of this mess, and we’ll get that window replaced as soon as we can.” Candace smiled kindly, wrapping her arms around the waists of the two young women closest to her. It really was a family here, and Candace was our mother hen. “I think it’s safe to say that you can all have the rest of the week off. Ophelia, I’ll be in touch with you to organize schedules once we’re ready to get rolling again, okay?”

  “Sure thing, boss lady,” I said with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. I didn’t know if I’d still be here in a week. San Francisco was sounding better and better by the minute. Suki would like it there. Lots of sunbeams to curl up in on the left coast. Maybe I could finally get that elusive loft apartment I’d been chasing for decades.

  I’d have to make a decision. Fast.

  “Just remember, girls, if you need me...”

  “You’re just a beep away!” everyone finished Candace’s sentence in muted unison, except for me. I tried not to roll my eyes. Acting like a twenty-something might have made Candace feel better about herding these cats every day, but I just found it tiresome. It was hard to pine for youth when it was all such a very, very goddamned long time ago.

  We filed out of the shop as the door of a glass repair shop van slid open. Candace wasn’t kidding about the window. We’d all be back at work in no time. Maybe even before Rachel was buried.

  That was a shitty thought.

  A small hand grabbed mine, and I looked down at Lacey’s pale face. Her eyes were red from crying and her nose was running just a little. She sniffed and wiped at it, as though she could hear my observation. “We’re going to Pat’s to get a drink... do you want to come with us?”

  I looked at the group of girls leaning on each other, each one wearing a mask of barely maintained calm.

  “It’s a little early, do you really think Pat’s going to want to pull pints and listen to you sob this early in the morning?” The owner of the dive bar down the street was always excited to see us in his shitty establishment, but I didn’t think he’d be cool to see us even before his gin-soaked regulars rolled up for the day. “I think I’ll pass... I have something to take care of.”

  “Are you sure, Fee? I mean, you were the last one to see Rachel,” she swallowed hard, “...alive.” She looked at me beseechingly and squeezed my hand. “Please... just one drink.”

  I shook my heard firmly. One drink with this group, teetering on the brink of loud sobbing and hand-wringing. I don’t think so. Of course, the news of Rachel’s death had hit me hard. But I hadn’t known her for very long, and to be honest, she pissed me off more times than she made me smile. I didn’t wish death on anyone (okay, that’s a tiny lie), but I needed to find out what had happened... and why. And then I was going to run like hell.

  Prospect Park was one of my favorite things about this city, and this neighborhood had been my haunt for decades. It had filled me with inspiration to watch the city build up around me, and as the years had passed I had developed a healthy addiction to progress… although some things left a bit to be desired. The Laudan I’d met through Eli were different. The elder among them held on to their traditions and their penchant for the dark, drafty and gothic while the younger members of their clan embraced the changes the same way I did… then again, there were bad eggs in every batch.

  Now, Prospect Park had a new layer, and it wasn’t one I liked. I could smell death under the spice of the roses, and it made my skin crawl.

  There was a chill in the breeze that snatched at the ends of my braids and I tugged my coat around me tighter as I approached the rose gardens. I loved this park. The grass on the other side of the garden was my usual reading spot on a summer day.

  This was where I had first met Eli, at midnight on a day just like this. Crisp and clear. The wall I’d put him through had been repaired, but I remembered the way it had crumbled as he’d hit it, and how surprised I’d been when he jumped up as though I’d hit him with a wet noodle.

  But now there was police tape crisscrossing my favorite sanctuary, and a crowd of people had gathered to look. The body had been removed in the early hours of the morning, and it had rained. I could smell it all. I felt like I could see her, Rachel, running down the path, away from her attacker. He had come out from behind the gazebo, hidden in the shadows, avoiding the patches of moonlight.

  Maybe she’d known him. Maybe she’d met him at a club downtown and was taking him home… maybe he was a f
riend, someone she’d trusted, not a stranger at all. I shivered in the sunlight.

  “She was stabbed, you know,” a gravelly voice floated towards me and I looked down sharply to see one of the homeless men who frequented the park sitting on the grass. He was sorting through a pile of stuff he’d collected, his attention on the garbage and not on me.

  “Jeff,” I said, walking closer. “You freaked me out, man. I didn’t see you there.” I knew everyone in this park. Jeff had been on the streets for a long time, and he wasn’t a junkie either. He just didn’t like paying taxes. At least, that was what he told me.

  “Sister Sarah, pretty as ever,” he said, flipping through some papers. Jeff didn’t know what I looked like; he just knew I had red hair and that my name was Sarah.

  “What happened here, Jeff? Did you see anything?” I knew the cops would never ask him for a statement, so it was possible that he’d been in the right place at the right time.

  “No. No. Saw the body though. Those roses will be nice and fat come winter. She fed them good,” Jeff grunted, snapping a match to flame with his blackened nails.

  I flinched back just a little, but not enough that he would notice. Fire still made me jumpy, sue me.

  “Nice assessment,” I replied.

  “Ask me? Didn’t look like no stabbing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen plenty of them. Over simple things. Cigarettes, someone looking at someone else the wrong way… sleeping in the wrong spot. A stabbing for every holiday,” Jeff giggled to himself and blew out the match.

  “I get it.” I looked over at the roses as they shuddered in the breeze.

  Didn’t look like no stabbing I’d ever seen…

  “Wait,” I leaned down to get closer to Jeff, trying to keep my voice quiet. “If it didn’t look like a stabbing, what was it?”