Blood Stained

by CJ Lyons

  Morgan watched the cop take Adam into the police station. A tiny building that looked surprised to still be standing as the wind knocked against it. Like the Big, Bad Wolf huffing and puffing.

  From the pattern of lights, the inside would be divided in two. Made sense. Wouldn't want the public getting in the way of official business. One camera on the parking lot, probably one more inside, maybe two.

  Easy peasy.

  Morgan crossed the snow-covered parking lot. The public door was unlocked even though it was early, not business hours yet. Expecting someone?

  The street was empty in both directions. The nearest light, on again, off again, in the pre-dawn gloom, was the blinking amber that marked the edge of town.

  Savoring the taste of blood that would soon be shed, Morgan opened the door and stepped inside, knowing Clint watched.

  Morgan was about to make him proud. So very proud. The one thing that mattered most in the world. Keeping Clint happy. Because when Clint was happy, Morgan was his whole, wide world.

  Nothing was going to take that away from Morgan. Nothing.

  Not even a big brother.

  Chapter 25

  If the Caine family home looked like a solid house fallen on hard times, then the Mathis residence appeared to be the opposite: a house built in hard times that survived long enough to see better times.

  It was a frame house built on the eastern shoulder of the mountain, which should have given it the appearance of majesty. It looked out upon stunning vista of mountain meadow tumbling gracefully into forest and then down across the valley. But the house was two stories high with a sharply peaked roof and looked half as wide as it ought to be. As if someone had cut the original plans in half, leaving a scarecrow of a house, tall, thin, and giving the illusion of leaning, ready to slide off the side of the mountain.

  Despite its awkward architecture, the road was well tended—already salted and plowed—and when they grew closer, Lucy noted a roof in good condition and wood siding recently painted. Freshly cut logs were stacked to the porch roof. A curl of smoke from the chimney made a dark smudge against the snow and the pale dawn light.

  They walked up flagstone steps that had been cleared of snow so long ago, a fresh coating was already forming. They'd just reached the front door when a rifle shot rang out, echoing back from the mountain behind the house.

  Lucy rolled to the porch wall, pulling her weapon. Jenna pressed up beside her. Shit. The postal inspector had relinquished her weapon because of the shooting yesterday. Lucy pulled her leg up, drew her backup Glock from its ankle holster, and handed it to Jenna. "You have nine rounds."

  Jenna nodded. Lucy motioned for her to stay where she was and cover her back. Then she drew a deep breath and sidled along the wall, past the stack of logs, to the rear corner of the porch. The direction the shot came from.

  Lucy craned her head around the corner ready to shoot. Then relaxed. The side of the house nearest the mountain opened onto a deck that looked out onto the meadow where snow glowed ruby-orange in the rays of the sun piercing the clouds. A man in a red and black checked wool coat lounged in a chair, sighting his rifle at a black bear ambling along the tree line at the edge of the forest.

  "Federal agents, Mr. Mathis. Would you please lower your weapon?"

  "Can't it wait? Damn thing must be deaf and dumb and I'm tired of him tearing through my garbage." Mathis kept sighting the bear but the bear disappeared back into the forest. With a sigh, he set his rifle at his feet and turned to Lucy. "What the hell do you want?"

  "Show me your hands, please, Mr. Mathis." The man looked like he was about to argue, but the sight of Jenna also holding a weapon on him, shut him up. He raised his hands, flipped them up and down.

  "Nothing up my sleeves either. You two do realize you're trespassing on private property. Got no right to pull a pistol on a man in his own home."

  Lucy holstered her weapon and motioned for Jenna to do the same. "Afraid you startled us with that rifle shot. We're not from around here."

  He wrinkled his nose and rubbed it red. Mathis was in his late thirties, trim but with a thick neck and thinning brown hair. He stood. Jenna jumped, but Lucy laid a hand on the postal inspector's arm. "City gals, eh? Probably should come inside where it's warm and you can tell me what brought you all the way out here."

  "I'm surprised you're not out searching for those missing boys," Lucy began once they were inside, cups of steaming coffee in their hands. Another kitchen table. This one was a wide plank with benches along two sides and two chairs at either end. Mathis sat at the head of the table. Lucy had started to take the chair opposite but he gave a slight wince and she moved to sit on one of the benches instead. Jenna stood at the wood-burning stove, gripping her cup to her chest like she was a Titanic survivor fished from the North Sea.

  "Would be—should be, but, I've got to take care of my boys first." He said it like a man who didn't feel sorry for himself but wasn't altogether crazy about the hand life had dealt him either.

  "Your wife?"

  He shook his head, glanced over his shoulder to the main part of the house where a TV playing cartoons could be heard. "Dead. Last year. Drunk driver. Just me and the boys."

  "You have a son, Craig?"

  "Yeah. The oldest. Having a rough time of it. I ask too much of him, I guess."

  Lucy wondered at that. Jenna's description of the Mathis boy sounded like someone having a lot more problems than just a "rough time." She waited to see if Mathis had anything more to say before asking, "Does Craig know the missing boys?"

  "Look here. I'm a plainspoken man. I know my son acts out, but he had nothing to do with them two boys running off. You can ask him yourself." He tilted his chair back and hollered into the other room, "Craig, get in here. Now."

  A sullen looking skinny kid shuffled into the kitchen, not making eye contact with any of them—especially not his father.

  "Did you talk to those boys who went missing? Marty and, what's the other one's name?"

  "Darrin. Darrin Harding," Lucy supplied. She wished Mathis would let her do the questioning.

  Craig shifted his weight back and forth, one finger digging into a hole in his sweater sleeve.

  "Answer me, boy." Mathis' voice cracked but Craig didn't startle. Like he was used to it. Or it took a lot of stimuli to get a reaction from him. A possible early indication of sociopathy.

  "Sure, I talked to them. But in the morning." Finally he looked up. Met Lucy's gaze with defiance. "Until that big kid came by. Had a knife. Bet he took those boys out to the woods and cut them up, left them with their guts hanging out to rot."

  Lucy kept her face blank, not giving Craig the response he wanted. From the corner of her eye she saw Jenna take a step away from the boy, hand dropping to the pocket where she had Lucy's gun. "What boy was that, Craig?"

  "Dunno. Mrs. Chesshir knew him. They talked like they were old friends."

  "That was in the morning, right?"

  He nodded grudgingly, unwilling to admit anything on the record.

  "When did you see Marty and Darrin last?"

  "They were playing chase with a few of my friends. We like to include the little kids," he added, protecting his cohorts in crime. "But Dad already picked me up. We were driving away when I saw them running across the field."

  "I picked the boys up early yesterday," Mathis put in. "We had dentist appointments over in Huntingdon. All three of them."

  "Do you remember what time you picked them up?"

  "Had to sign them out. It was 2:40. By the time I got them all in the truck, the other kids were out, running for the first bus or playing in the yard. Not sure what time we actually left the parking lot."

  "And Craig was with you from 2:40 on?"

  "Yes." Mathis stood. Craig stayed a step behind him, a twisted smile on his face as if he'd just realized how lucky he was, having that dentist appointment. "Anything else we can do for you ladies?"

  Lucy shook her head and walked towards the
door. Jenna beat her there, already had it open. Lucy stopped at the threshold and turned back to Mathis. "You've got your hands full with all this, Mr. Mathis. I wonder if maybe Craig could use someone to talk to. Help him cope better."

  At first she thought Mathis was going to be offended by her suggestion. But to her surprise, he glanced over his shoulder as if fearful his son was listening in, then leaned forward. "You might have a good idea there. Lately he's been worrying me, leaving him with the younger boys. I'll look into that. Thanks."

  Lucy and Jenna returned to the car. No further in finding Marty or Darrin, but maybe they'd helped one kid before it was too late.

  <><><>

  Deputy Bob rushed over to open the door to the reception area. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

  A little girl, hidden from sight by the deputy's body, answered, "My mommy. She's hurt bad. Please help me."

  Adam opened his mouth but couldn't suck in enough air to make a sound. His throat shut tight like he was being strangled. He wanted to close his eyes, knew he should close his eyes, but couldn't even blink.

  He wished Bob hadn't told him his name. It was always worse when you knew their names.

  "Of course." The deputy squatted to the girl's level. "Where's she at, honey? Tell me what—"

  He made a sucking noise. A fish drowning in air. Adam winced at the sound; he'd heard it before.

  The deputy rocked back, then fell over onto his side. Both hands clutched at his chest, blood spurting through them. Fast at first, then slower, arching into graceful streams of scarlet.

  "Hi there, big brother." Morgan smiled over the deputy's body, still holding her bloody blade. "Daddy sent me to get you."

  Adam's blood turned to ice, leaving him breathless and dizzy as he watched the deputy die. The man had been kind. Didn't deserve to die. Not like that.

  Nonsense, Dad's voice filled his mind. He was only a fish. And now he's gutted like one. Dad's laughter sounded so real Adam, rocked in his chair, looking over both shoulders, expecting Dad to appear.

  Morgan was dressed in sky-blue ski bibs and jacket, yellow snow boots, and a jaunty red knit cap with pompoms, making her look younger than she was. She was short enough that she had to make a little leap to clear the still twitching body. She made it look graceful, like something a ballerina would do. Then she spun, bent over, and took the deputy's gun.

  "Fleeing felon, you want a gun, right?" she asked, aiming it at him.

  Adam scooted his chair back. "I don't want it."

  "Sure you do." She pocketed the weapon, grabbed the handcuff keys, and stood. Her eyes widened in a smile that didn't make it down to her lips when she spotted Adam's knife on the counter with his other possessions. She took his cash and keys.

  Then she approached Adam, the bloody knife in one hand. He pushed back in his chair as far as he could go. That made her smile.

  She stayed just beyond his reach, taking the box of tissues from the desk and wiping her blade clean. The soiled tissues went into her coat pocket along with the now clean knife. She turned to grab Adam's knife.

  He wanted to scream, to fight, but what good would it do? He was powerless. And Morgan knew it.

  "Just so there's no going back," she aimed her dagger-sharp smile at Adam as she plunged his blade into the deputy's right side and left it there.

  She tossed Adam the handcuff keys. He fumbled them, fingers numb, but managed to hang on.

  "Okie-dokie. Let's get going. Daddy's waiting."

  Chapter 26

  They got back into the Taurus, Jenna driving this time. Lucy sat in silence, her jaw making a clicking noise that had Jenna wincing. "Sorry. Guess that was a waste of time."

  "Don't worry about it," Lucy said. "Nature of the business. Talk to twenty people to find the one who has the missing piece of the puzzle."

  "Weird though. The Caine boy being with the boys yesterday morning."

  "Yeah." Lucy's voice sagged in resignation. "We're going to have to have a talk about that."

  They reached the blinking light at the base of the mountain. Up at Mathis' place the sunrise made the open meadow look golden, but down here it was all shadows and gloom. As if the clouds conspired with the mountains on either side of the valley to keep it shrouded in darkness.

  They pulled into the sheriff's substation and parked beside Bob's patrol car. Lights blazed inside the station. Jenna opened the car door and had no choice but to plant her feet into the unplowed snow. Icy cold ran into her sneakers once again and she wished she'd packed boots like Lucy had.

  She danced through the snow trying to minimize the number of footsteps she took. Lucy was already at the door, watching her with a shake of her head that reminded Jenna of her mom.

  "What? These are Coach. Probably ruined anyway."

  "I was just thinking of the Postal Service's creed. Neither wind nor rain…"

  "Oh, shut up. Let's get Caine and get out of here. I'm tired of the country."

  Lucy stopped with her hand on the door. "I might stay. Help Zeller."

  After the disappointments of the past two days, Jenna merely sighed. She came here thinking she'd learn something from Lucy, maybe even return to Pittsburgh a hero. Instead she'd killed a man, panicked in a cave, and stayed up all night crossing out squares on a map. "Whatever."

  She reached past Lucy to pull the door open, anxious to get inside where it was warm, hoping for some of Bob's coffee before they hit the road. Maybe even more of Bob himself if he could get away for a few minutes. She stomped over the threshold, Lucy right behind her, and made it halfway across the reception area before she realized she was mistaken.

  It wasn't warm inside the sheriff's station. It was cold. Very cold.

  No scent of coffee in the air. Only the smell of feces and blood.

  Jenna stopped. Tried to ask Lucy if Lucy saw what she did but the only sound she could make was a gagging noise as if she was strangling.

  Lucy carefully skirted the pool of blood. Squatted and touched Bob's body. Then she backed away, stepping in her own slushy footprints on the linoleum.

  "He's dead."

  Jenna nodded, still unable to talk. Saw the knife planted in Bob's chest like a flag on top of a mountain. "That knife. It's Caine's."

  Suddenly her frozen body felt as if it was being pulled apart, caught in a whirlwind of emotion. Jenna lurched a half step towards Bob's body, then twisted towards the door, then back to face Lucy. "Adam Caine killed him. Sonofabitch! If you hadn't let him go yesterday none of this would have happened. God. This is all our fault."

  Lucy ignored her tirade. She held one finger up for quiet as she spoke into her cell phone. Which made Jenna all the more furious. She darted towards the door. "He couldn't have gotten far."

  She ran outside, no longer caring about the snow sloshing into her shoes. She unzipped her coat and put her hand on her gun. Until she remembered the holster was empty. And she'd returned Lucy's Baby Glock to her.

  The parking lot and street beyond was quiet. Everything was quiet. No motion as far as she could see. Unless you counted the thick white clouds scudding across the sky and a flock of black birds that followed them. Damn country.

  Only nice thing about it had been Bob. And now he was gone.

  As much as she blamed Lucy, Jenna remembered she'd been the one who pushed to detour and question Mathis. Adam Caine might have never had the chance to kill Bob if they'd gotten here sooner.

  Just like Rachel Strohmeyer might still be alive if Jenna hadn't been so ready to try to prove herself to Lucy and get the girl to open up about what really happened in those caves four years ago.

  All her fault.

  She spotted the footprints in the snow. "There were two of them," she shouted to Lucy who'd hung up her phone and was coming through the door. "Headed that way. Into town."

  Jenna tracked the footprints, already disappearing beneath the new snow, across the parking lot. She reached the road as the sirens of the first patrol car roared through the air, shattering t
he winter silence.

  <><><>

  The heater died out sometime during the night but it was toasty warm in the down sleeping bags. Until Darrin had to get up and pee. The cold air hit him when he climbed out of his sleeping bag. He used the toilet seat in the corner, glad Sally and Marty weren't awake to watch him.

  He returned to his bag, snuggling inside. Then he realized. It was dry. He'd gone the whole night without wetting the bed.

  Too bad Dad wasn't here to see. He'd never take Darrin's word for it, so it wouldn't count.

  Marty sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked like he'd been crying. "I'm hungry. I want to go home."

  "Adam," Darrin called, the cave walls pitching the name back at him. No answer. He tried again. "We're ready for breakfast." Silence.

  Sally woke up and jumped onto Darrin's lap. "Do you think he's okay?" she asked, hugging Miss Priss. "Mommy sometimes is hard to wake up. But," she frowned, "sometimes she isn't even there." She let out a little sigh. "I don't like it when the strangers are there instead of Mommy." She raised her face to the top of the pit. "Adam," she sang out. "C'mon, we're ready to do more 'sploring!"

  No answer.

  "He left us." Marty's voice sounded like he was about to cry. "We're gonna die down here. Mommy! Mommy!" He shouted over and over, running from one side of the pit to the other, until Sally began to cry.

  "Stop it," Darrin said. "You're scaring her." He hugged Sally and wrapped his sleeping bag around her. Then he looked through the Walmart bags scattered around the cave.

  "Sally, do you want strawberry Pop Tarts or cinnamon?" he asked as he handed her a juice box. It was a bit gloomy down here but no more than the gray skies visible through the smoke hole overhead. He didn't even need the flashlight but it still made him feel better when Sally cranked it up and began to spin it around.

  "Cinmon, please," she said sweetly.

  Marty kicked at the stones around the fire pit. "I'm not eating. Not until I get back home." He grabbed a rock and carried it over to the wall. "Maybe we could build some steps. Climb out."