Blind Rage

by Michael W. Sherer

  She spoke some commands into the phone and it immediately spoke back, giving us the first turn. In a few minutes I was on the freeway and headed south toward Renton. Breaks in the trees flashing by on one side revealed glimpses of Lake Washington, gray under the clouds. Tess was quiet the whole way, the monotone instructions from her phone my only company. I kept checking the rearview mirror, but couldn’t tell if Kenny and Luis were still behind us or not.

  Soon we were back on a city thoroughfare. The route took us close to downtown Renton, winding around the bottom of the lake and back up into the hills surrounding it. We turned off the main arterial onto a side street into a neighborhood of older, small homes. A few blocks farther, we found the address listed for Helen—a single-story Cape Cod cottage with weathered shingle siding. I pulled up to the curb across the street from the house and shut off the engine. A car passed by and turned at the corner, leaving the street quiet and still.

  “What do you see?” Tess asked, fingers splayed on the dash as if to keep from being thrown through the windshield.

  “Not much.” I described the house to her.

  “She’s probably not even home,” Tess said. “I bet she’s at work.”

  “Are you nervous about seeing her?”

  “I don’t know what to say. I mean, I don’t want to accuse her.”

  “Just ask her.”

  I got out, circled the front of the car, and helped Tess out. She gripped my arm tightly as we crossed the street. There was no sign of Luis and Kenny.

  I rang the doorbell and took a step back from the door. Curtains in the front window were drawn tight, and the house looked dark and empty. Scraggly rhododendrons on either side of the stoop clawed their way up the side of the house, looking for a grip on the gutters. Dandelions speckled the yard, poking up from grass that was badly in need of cutting. I leaned forward and stabbed the bell with a finger again.

  Tess tugged on my arm. “Come on, let’s go. No one’s home.”

  “Hang on a second. I thought I heard something.”

  I pushed the bell a third time, and when the chime faded away, I heard soft footsteps approaching the door. It opened a crack and a woman peered through the opening, face etched with worry, gray wisps of hair trailing down her cheeks. Brown eyes ringed with dark circles widened in surprise at the sight of Tess, and the worry changed to fear. She opened the door another inch, then her eyes darted one way and another as she took in the street behind us.

  “Helen?” Tess said. “Is that you?”

  A soft groan escaped the woman behind the door. “Go away, child. You shouldn’t have come.”

  “Helen, please,” Tess said. “Let us in. We need to talk to you.”

  Helen sighed. “About what? It’s all been said.”

  “No, it hasn’t. Please, there’s so much I have to tell you, so much I want to know.”

  “I can’t help you. Go away.”

  Helen’s face receded into the gloom, but before she could close the door, I stuck my foot in the crack. She leaned forward, her eyes narrowed.

  “Look,” I said, “you can let us inside for five minutes and answer a few simple questions, or we can stand here banging on your door for the next five minutes. I’m sure the neighbors would love that—not to mention any passersby.”

  Helen shivered, the same look of fright painting her face a ghostly shade. “Fine, come in. But I’m telling you, I can’t help you.”

  She swung the door wide and reached out with bloodless, skeletal hands that clutched at Tess’s sleeve and pulled her in. She motioned me inside impatiently and shut the door behind me, checking the street once more before latching it tightly.

  “Can’t help, or won’t?” I said.

  She peered at me in the dim light. Without answering, she waved a bony hand in front of Tess’s face and got no reaction.

  “It’s true,” Helen whispered. “You are blind.” She gulped and took Tess by the hand. “Well, fine, come on in then. Sit down. Ask your questions.”

  She led the way into a living room cluttered with bric-a-brac and old furniture. A faded chintz couch sagged along one wall, behind a scarred coffee table topped with magazines, a bowl of dusty potpourri, and several knickknacks. A worn easy chair faced a small television, the small table next to it littered with newspapers. Perched on top of the pile were a remote and a pair of half-frame cheaters with a loop of chain dangling from the earpieces, as well as a chipped mug. A small dining area took up the far half of the room, an open door leading to a kitchen beyond.

  Helen steered Tess to the couch and got her seated. Without looking at me, she perched in the easy chair. I sat next to Tess.

  “So what’s this all about, then?” Helen said, wringing her hands. “Why the sudden interest in old Helen after all this time?”

  Tess’s eyes grew big. “My parents were killed, Helen. And you can see what happened to me. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come find you, but I’ve had other things to deal with. Why did you leave us, anyway?”

  “Had other fish to fry,” Helen mumbled. “My husband was sick. Had to be here to take care of him. Got a night job on an office cleaning crew so I could be with George during the day.”

  “I didn’t know,” Tess said, hanging her head.

  “I’m sure there’s a lot you don’t know,” Helen said. “I knew you had your own troubles. Didn’t want to burden you with mine.”

  “You recommended Rosa to Alice,” I said. “How did you know her?”

  Helen leaned forward and peered at me again. “And just who are you, exactly?”

  “Oliver,” Tess said. “He’s my assistant, and I want to know the answer to that, too.”

  “I didn’t know her,” Helen said. “I heard about her from someone. I don’t remember who.”

  “Rosa’s gone,” Tess said.

  Helen looked at her sharply, but her face quickly softened into a bland mask. “Sorry she didn’t work out. What’s it to me? You and Alice going to blame me for recommending her?”

  “Not at all,” Tess said. “We just want to know who told you to suggest her.”

  Helen drew herself up in the chair, but it still dwarfed her. “No one. I heard she was a good cook, so I passed on her name. Didn’t want to leave Alice in the lurch, that’s all.”

  “Rosa tried to kill Alice. And Tess.” I gauged her reaction. Her mouth tightened, and fear crept back into her eyes. “Look, Helen, Rosa’s gone. Alice and Yoshi chased her off, along with a couple of goons. But whoever sent them won’t stop there. Tess is in danger. We need to know who told you to quit and let Rosa have your job.”

  She shook her head, jaw clamped tight.

  Tess tipped her head to one side, reading into Helen’s silence.

  “Helen? Please. Why would you lie? Do you hate me so much you want to see me dead?”

  Helen blanched again. “I don’t hate you, child. I just can’t tell.”

  “They threatened you,” I said.

  Helen nodded. “Me, my family.”

  “We have to stop them,” I said. “I won’t let them do to Tess what they did to her parents. You have to help us, Helen. Who threatened you?”

  A tear leaked from the corner of her eye. “They said they’d kill us all. George first, then my daughter Harriett, and me last if I didn’t do what they said.”

  I looked around. “Where is your husband, ma’am?”

  Sadness washed over her. “He died. Bad heart. I told you, he was sick.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Tess said. “You must feel awful. Was it recent?”

  “Must’ve been six months ago. Hard to say—the days just blend into each other.”

  “You’ve been alone all this time?” Tess cried. “That’s terrible.”

  Helen shrugged. “It’s not so bad. You get used to it. Gave me a chance to think. After taking care of you folks all those years, and then George, I hardly had time to myself. Been catching up on some reading.”

  I heard a noise from the ki
tchen, like the creak of a floorboard, but when I glanced through the open door I saw nothing. Helen didn’t seem to take notice.

  Tess’s face brightened. “You should come home with us. Now that Rosa’s gone, we need you, Helen.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t,” Helen said. Color rose in her cheeks. “Don’t need no charity, now. I’m doing just fine.”

  “No, really,” Tess said. “We do need you. You cook so much better than Alice.”

  “Don’t let her hear you say that, child. Goodness, she’ll ground you till you’re gray.”

  “I’m sorry about your husband, too,” I said softly, trying to bring the conversation back on point. “But if he’s gone, then maybe it’s time to undo the lie. We need a name, Helen.”

  She stiffened, then slowly settled deeper into the chair as she considered what I said.

  “It might just be time,” she said. “Lord knows Harriett has no use for me anymore. Stood by her when she went through a bad patch with her husband, but they’re divorced now, and she hardly speaks to me.”

  She heaved a sigh and stared at me. I leaned forward expectantly, elbows on my knees. Her mouth opened, but what came out was a loud pop-pop-pop like firecrackers going off, and a red flower bloomed on Helen’s chest, quickly staining the front of her dress a deep claret. Without thinking, I dove sideways for the floor, hooking an arm around Tess’s shoulders as I went and bringing her with me. Tess cried in fright and pain as we crashed hard. The bang of a slamming door made me twist and look back toward the kitchen—just in time to see a dark shape flash past the window and disappear.

  I scrambled to my feet and pulled Tess up off the floor. “Come on,” I growled. “We have to get out of here.”

  “What’s going on?” she trilled. “What happened?”

  I practically dragged her to the front door. “Someone just shot Helen. She’s dead. We’ve gotta go. Come on!”

  She got her feet under her and hurried up the walk to the street alongside me. I craned my neck one way and the other to try and spot the intruder, expecting the same quick fusillade of bullets to find both Tess and me any second. Across the street, Luis tumbled out of the SUV and hurried toward us.

  “Is she hurt?” he said.

  “No, thank God.” I said.

  He took Tess’s other arm and we hustled her toward the SUV. She stumbled along without protest, eyes glazed with shock.

  “What happened?” he said. “I thought I heard shots.”

  “Helen’s dead!” Tess said as we pushed her into the backseat.

  “Who’s Helen?” Luis said.

  “Former cook,” I told him. “She used to work for the Barretts. We came to ask her some questions.” I leaned in and helped buckle Tess’s seatbelt, then noticed that the vehicle was empty. I turned and faced Luis. “Where’s Kenny?”

  He lifted his shoulders and let them drop. “I don’t know. We got here, parked, waited a minute. He said he was going to check on you two. Headed up the street.”

  “Hey!” a voice called. “What’s up?” Kenny jogged up the sidewalk from the corner.

  “Where you been, man?” Luis said.

  Kenny looked confused. “Taking a walk. Why?”

  “The girl almost got herself killed, that’s why,” Luis said. “Come on, let’s move out.”

  “What about the police?” I said. “We need to report this.”

  Luis shook his head. “No cops, man. Come on, let’s go before someone sees us.”

  I hurried to the rental car and got in, looking around to see if any curious eyes were watching from behind living room curtains. The street was deathly quiet. I climbed in and started the car, thoughts racing furiously, wondering if I’d just left Tess in even graver danger than she’d been in a few minutes earlier.

  CHAPTER 33

  All the bodies squeezed into the den that Travis used as his home office spoke at once, trying to talk over each other. He couldn’t decide if the pandemonium was more like a Chinese fire drill or a clown car. He’d come home only moments earlier to find them all knotted around one of the SUVs in the courtyard like conspiracy theorists around a water cooler, looking both suspicious and guilty at the same time. His own antennae quivering, he’d herded them into the house to find out what was wrong. Now he faced them all from behind his desk and raised a hand. The squabbling continued unabated.

  “Ten-hut!” he barked.

  Luis and Kenny faced him and snapped to attention immediately. Tess and Oliver came around more slowly, their heated conversation diminishing in volume and belligerence until they both looked at him questioningly. The boy looked pale, shaken, and Travis couldn’t remember when he’d seen Tess so frightened.

  “What the hell is going on?” he said.

  For a time, no one spoke. The four eyed each other nervously.

  Luis stepped forward. “These two were involved in a shooting.”

  “Not involved,” Tess said quickly. “It wasn’t like we went out and shot someone. We just happened to have been there when—”

  Travis cut her off. “Been where? Where the hell were you? You were supposed to be here, doing homework.”

  “She needed a break,” Oliver said. “Some fresh air. We went for a drive.”

  “And ended up at a shooting?”

  “Alice okayed it,” Oliver said, color coming to his cheeks.

  “You keep making it sound like we’re Bonnie and Clyde or something,” Tess said, her voice rising. “We didn’t shoot anybody, okay? We witnessed a shooting. Well, Oliver did. I didn’t see a damn thing.”

  Travis held up his hand again to stop her before the tears brimming in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. “Watch your mouth, young lady. I get it. Tell me what happened, from the beginning.”

  As Tess ran through the afternoon’s events Travis felt his pulse rise and his breathing grow shallow. He’d spent a year trying to relate to Tess as she kept mostly to her room, trying to coax her back to living at least a semblance of the life she’d had before the accident. Now, after just two days back in the real world, he could no longer seem to protect her.

  I’m a trained assassin, a career soldier, and I can’t keep my own niece out of harm’s way.

  “Why on earth did you decide go talk to that woman?” Travis said when she finished.

  “Because it didn’t make sense,” Tess said. “When we found out Rosa was—”

  “No, I know all that,” Travis said. “I meant why did you go alone? Why didn’t you talk to me first?”

  “Do I have to ask permission to do everything around here?” Tess cried.

  “You do now!” Travis said, heat creeping up from under his collar. “I already talked to Cyrus Cooper about her. I was going to have him investigate her. You never should have tried to talk to her alone.”

  “You didn’t even know her,” Tess shouted. “She was part of my family, not yours. You have no right telling me who I can and can’t talk to. You are not my parent.”

  Travis stared at her, teeth clenched, while she got the anger out of her system. He wished he had a valve somewhere he could open to let off some of his own steam.

  Finally silent, Tess stood motionless except for the tremor in her knees.

  “Are you finished?” he said. She tossed her hair. He went on quietly. “I’m asking you to check with me or Alice or Marcus before you go anywhere. It’s to make sure you’re not putting yourself in danger. Obviously, there’s a threat out there to you, to all of us. It’s my job as your guardian—not your parent—to guard you, to keep you safe. I can’t do that if I don’t know where you are.”

  He turned to Luis and Kenny. “And where the hell were you two in all this?”

  Luis pinked and glanced at his feet. “I . . . We . . . We were parked across the street. We had an eye on the house, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The street was quiet. We saw the woman let the kids in the house. Figured she knew them. I thought everything was cool.”

  Luis snuck a look at Kenny before tu
rning his eyes back to Travis again. Kenny stayed ramrod straight, eyes ahead, no expression on his face.

  “That how you remember it?” Travis asked him.

  “No, sir. I left my post to walk up the street and get some air.”

  “You left your . . . What the hell were you thinking?”

  “What Luis already told you, sir. We saw the woman invite the kids in, so we figured they were safe for the time being. I thought as long as I didn’t go too far, I could spare a few minutes while they were inside. You didn’t tell us you were going to have the woman investigated.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Your orders were to protect her. And Oliver. Consider your pay docked. Screw up again, and you’re gone. Got it?” He waited for Kenny’s nod. “You saw nothing?” Travis squinted at him with narrowed eyes.

  Kenny put his hands out, palms up. “Not a thing, I swear. Just those two coming out of the house like it was haunted.”

  “You didn’t hear shots fired?”

  “No, sir. Nothing I could clearly identify as gunfire.”

  Travis turned to Oliver. “I want every detail you can remember. Take your time.”

  Oliver let his gaze drift up toward the ceiling as if seeing a movie projected there, and immediately began describing the scene—the contents of the room, their positions relative to each other, the woman’s demeanor. Travis listened without interruption, and was surprised at the level of detail. Most eyewitnesses to a crime, particularly a sudden and violent one, tended to focus on one or two things, forgetting or even unaware of other details. Their testimony was notoriously unreliable, yet juries still often believed more strongly in eyewitness accounts than other forensic evidence.

  “And you never got a look at the shooter’s face?” Travis said when Oliver finished.

  Oliver shook his head. “It happened so fast. He was out the back door before I had a chance to look.”

  “The gunfire . . . You’re sure it was three shots?”

  “Yeah, definitely three. Not like bang, bang, bang. More like brat-tat-tat. Fast.”

  “And you say you could hear okay afterward?” Travis pressed.

  Oliver nodded. “Sure. A little ringing in my ears, but the shots weren’t as loud as I thought they’d be in that small space. Like firecrackers—Black Cats. I thought a shot would be more like an M-80.”