Maelstrőm

by Michelle Love

  Isaac nodded. “I do know and I’m sorry.”

  “I need to feel I have agency in my own life,” she said, “no, scratch that, I do have agency in my own life. I spent years thinking I wasn’t able to make my own decisions – Dan was partially responsible for that. So, no, as much as I love you, you don’t get to make those kind of decisions for me.”

  Isaac put his hands up. “I’m right there with you.”

  Sarah visibly relaxed then rubbed her eyes. “Man, what a day. Too many of these kind of days lately.” She got up and went to him and he pulled her onto his lap, burying his face in her hair. She wound her arms around his neck. “We’re good, though, right?”

  He bunched her hair in his fist and kissed her deeply. “Always.”

  She nuzzled his ear. “Take me to bed, Isaac Quinn…”

  He had watched them as they slowly stripped each other’s clothes off. Even the dim lighting of the bedroom, he could still see the way she looked up at Quinn as if she could see nothing else, her eyes shining, besotted, almost drunk with desire. Quinn dropped to his knees and buried his face in her belly, lifting her leg over his shoulder as he moved down, kissing down until his mouth found her sex. Sarah’s head fell back as she gasped at his tongue lashing around her clit, sweeping along the soft, peachy cleft.

  He could Quinn, his large cock ramrod straight against his stomach, sweep her onto the bed, pushing her legs apart. He watched her smiling up at him, spreading her legs for him, begging him to fill her cunt. As Quinn thrust hard into her, she cried out and the sound made the watcher hard, too hard and uncomfortable. He began to jerk off, silently, stifling his cries, never taking his eyes from the beautiful woman on the bed. Soon, she would be dead and he’d never see her like this again.

  He had come hard, spasming and vibrating, hot, silent tears to rage and desire coursing down his face.

  Sarah climbed down the ladder to the attic onto the upstairs hallway and stood, listening. In her hand, the tire iron she’d used to open the trunks. Her hand gripped it tightly, but her hands were clammy from fear. For a second, she wondered if she had imagined it but then she heard a chair shift, footsteps into the hallway below her. She peered over the rail. A figure stood beneath her, his large build entirely dressed in black. She backed up, terror screeching through her now. Straining to hear, she realized he was talking to himself and she peeked over the stair rail. He had a hood pulled up over his head. For long moments, all was silent and still then suddenly the man let out a roar, a scream of such ferocity and rage that the house reverberated with it.

  Shocked, terrified, Sarah gasped. His head shot up and turned towards the stairs Sarah backed off, turned and ran. She could hear his footsteps behind her, pursuing, hunting. In her panic, she skidded along the wooden floors, desperate for a hiding place. She whimpered with relief as she skittered into the last room – the guest bathroom and locked it. She darted into the room, looking around desperately as he began to slam his body against the door. She shoved up the window but the drop was a long way down, she’d break her legs if she tried to jump. She left the window open, though, hoping he’d think she’d gone out that way. Thankful for once for her small stature, she climbed into her laundry bin, trying to calm her breathing, terror screeching through her body. If he cornered her in here, alone, unprotected and unobserved, he could kill her, hide her body and get away before anyone found her. If anyone ever found her. She felt the desperate urge to scream but she clamped her hands over her mouth as the door to the bathroom opened.

  Seconds stretched into years. She could hear him breathing. He came closer.

  After a minute, she couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but she couldn’t hear his breathing in the room anymore. She braved opening the lid to the basket a crack and peeking out. The bathroom was empty. Listening, she could hear him moving around along the corridor. He was in the bedroom. She climbed out of the basket and padded carefully along the hallway. She crept down the stairs and was about to open the front door when she heard him burst from the room. “Fucking, fucking bitch!”

  She wrenched open the door and ran.

  “Vampire’s here.” Molly nodded over to Caroline. Finn nodded. Caroline sat at a table at the far end of the coffee house. The rest of the place was empty. It had been a week since he’d walked out on her and seeing her now, he knew he’d made the right decision.

  “So I see. Can you grab me a coffee?”

  “Of course, bro. I’ll bring over some fresh blood for the vamp.” Molly stuck her tongue in her cheek and grinned at him.

  He walked over and sat down at Caroline’s table. She smirked at him.

  “See you’re busy at work, officer.”

  Their detente hadn’t lasted. For weeks now they had been sniping at each other and now Finn had reached his limit. He wanted out. For good.

  He’d spent the last couple of nights sleeping on Molly’s couch, after long talks with his sister, lasting into the night. She’d even brought him coffee past midnight when he was alone, working a night shift at the station.

  He’d looked up as his sister came into the office. Molly raised the coffee cup, her expression both irritated and amused.

  “Your order, my lord. I hath come as thee summoned…me.” She gave up with a shrug and a smile. “What do you want? I had to sneak out while Mike’s making like a walrus on the couch. It’s quite a sight, his yawns. Sometimes I throw grapes, trying to get them in.”

  Finn grinned. “How’d that work out for you?”

  “Once I hit his eye, the other time I got it in his mouth and nearly choked him. He was pretty pissed but I figure, hey, at least I scored twice.”

  “Sounds like your sex life in college.”

  “Oh ha ha ha, comedy king, and eww, dude, I’m your sister.” She glanced at his empty desk. “What did you really want?”

  Finn hesitated. “I gotta tell you, sis, I’m thinking of quitting. No, seriously.” He added as she rolled her eyes.

  “I hear this, what, every six months? You’ll never quit.”

  “Aren’t you gonna give me the whole It’s in your blood speech?” Finn looked disappointed and she grinned.

  “Anyways,” he added. “this time, it’s different.”

  His sister raised her eyebrows. “Oh yes? You finally going to make some changes, get divorced, meet someone… human?”

  Finn chewed on his lip and didn’t reply. Molly didn’t yet know about the baby. If she did… god, he didn’t want to think about that. He knew how she would react – horror that Caroline had trapped him.

  She squinted at him. “Well?” He shrugged and she sighed. “Yep, I thought so. Pucarck.”

  “What is “pucarck”?”

  “It’s a chicken noise.”

  “Chickens go “bok bok”. Not “pucarck”. And I’m not a chicken. I’m respectful of the sanctity of marriage.”

  Molly snorted. “Firstly, it doesn’t count when you’re married to a Ring Wraith and secondly – that’ll really get the girls hot “Oh Finn, respect me, respect me hard, respect me real good!”“

  “I’m really not comfortable with those words coming out of your mouth.” He laughed but then sighed and tilted his chair back, leaning against the wall. “I don’t know, sis…”

  Molly growled. “For the love of God, Finn, doesn’t this drive you crazy? This constant…God, I don’t even know what to call it. Everything, everything is telling you to leave Caroline. She makes you miserable. That doesn’t even begin to cover it. I want you to be happy, to find the one person who brings you joy. Stop fooling around. Do something. The one thing I will say is this: you won’t find her while you’re still married to, or at least living with, Count Slutula. She’s changed you, written her spite and her hurt all over you. So before anything else, you have to decide what to do. You, no-one else. And soon.”

  Finn nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.” He sniggered. “Count Slutula?”

  Molly grinned wickedly and Finn laughed. He drained his
coffee then looked at his sister suspiciously.

  “When did you get so smart?”

  “Around about the time I was born. They had a lot of brains left over from you.”

  “Funny.”

  Molly grinned at him but her eyes were serious. “You have nothing to lose, Finn. Nothing.

  Now he sat opposite his smirking, hateful wife of five years and saw nothing in her he could ever love again. Nothing.

  Finn stared at her in dislike. “What do you want Caroline?”

  “Isn’t this more about what you want, Finn?”

  He sighed. “Yes. Let’s not drag this out. I want a divorce. You can’t be surprised.”

  “No.” But she was smiling. She lit a cigarette. Molly walked past and snatched it away from her.

  “No smoking, are you an idiot?”

  Caroline shrugged and sipped her coffee. “Well, one good thing about getting a divorce would be never having to see you again, you bitch.”

  “The feeling’s entirely mutual.”

  Caroline stood up and reached past Molly to grab a cupcake from the stand. “When are you going to get a life, Molly, instead of acting as pimp-in-chief to my husband?”

  Molly groaned. “At some point, this relentless bitchery must surely get exhausting for you.”

  She brushed past Caroline, a little too hard but Caroline just stayed smiling. “Why are you so happy anyway? I mean, apart from making my brother’s life miserable, that is.”

  “Molly.” Finn shook his head at his sister.

  Caroline laughed. “I am happy and you know what? Do you sell champagne in this pissant little hole?”

  Molly looked confused. “What?”

  “Shut up, Caroline.” Finn hissed the words, his gaze locked on his wife.

  Caroline looked between the two siblings and started to laugh. “Oh my god, she doesn’t know, does she?”

  Molly scowled at her. “Know what? Finn?”

  Finn buried his head in his hands as Caroline crowed triumphantly.

  “We need to celebrate, my husband and I. We’re going to have a baby.”

  Sarah didn’t think, she suddenly was sprinting, racing towards her truck. She didn’t make it. He grabbed the back of her neck, smashed her head against the window on the driver’s side. Stunned, Sarah twisted, trying to escape his grip but he was too strong. He flung her to the ground and threw his entire body weight on top of her, pressing her face down into the dirt, his knee on the small of her back.

  This is it. This is the end. Sarah struggled against him, adrenalin coursing through her veins but she had no chance against his bulk. Her attacker laughed and she felt his fingers on her neck. “Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. You’re a clever girl, you know. I want you to give your fucking billionaire a message, baby girl. Tell him I’m going to teach him about loss. Tell him I’m going to teach him the meaning of pain.” His voice was course, rough, and hands tightened around her throat, his fingernails digging and she choked. His smiled faded, his eyes went blank. “I’m going to kill you, Sarah, you know that now, don’t you? And when I do, I will do it so slowly that you feel every inch of my knife cutting through you, every drop of your blood spilling out, every last breath dragged from your lungs.” She felt the tip of the knife pressed harder into her body as he laughed softly. “Enjoy the time you have left. The only reason I’m not killing you tonight, right now, right here, is that I’m going to make sure your bastard lover is watching when you die. Then I’m going to kill him too. Slowly. So, make the most of the time you have left, baby girl, it isn’t long. Until then…”

  And he brought the hilt of the knife down hard on her head and everything went dark.

  Isaac Quinn had back-to-back meetings – his own design – to make up for the work he had handed off to Saul these last three months. To all outward appearances, he seemed engaged, alert but his brain was working overtime. Daniel Bailey, supposedly dead or missing, was screwing Caroline Jewell. Was Caroline the reason he was back in Seattle and hadn’t contacted Sarah? In his mind, Isaac had painted Dan as a menacing force but maybe he was just a coward. Maybe he didn’t want to face the questions. Sarah had told him she suspected Dan was having an affair before he went missing. Caroline was the obvious suspect and Stan’s investigations proved she was indeed Bailey’s mistress. He couldn’t help the feeling of relief he felt.

  But then who had killed George? Buddy Harte, the shipwright? If the killer was, as the police thought, the same person killing young Asian-American women, why hadn’t he simply murdered Sarah, instead of those around her? Isaac winced at the thought.

  When he went back to his office, just after eight, his assistant Maggie told him, to his relief, that his final meeting was canceled.

  “Maggie, it’s late, go home. You already do more than enough. Take tomorrow off on me.”

  Maggie smiled and thanked him. After she’d gone, Isaac called Sarah’s cell. It went to voicemail but he knew she was due to go into work that evening to do a stock take with Molly.

  He had no idea whether he should speak to Finn, tell him about Caroline’s infidelity. It would open up a can of worms that was for sure.

  And he couldn’t tell Sarah either. She was so fiery, and loathed Caroline and loved Finn in such equal measure that she would undoubtedly go straight to Finn – if she didn’t kill Caroline first.

  No, I’m sorry, baby. This is one secret I have to keep. Until Dan Bailey made himself known to her – if ever – then he might decide differently. Isaac was satisfied he made the right decision.

  He tried to call Sarah again. Voicemail. He smiled. “Hey beautiful, I’m just finishing up, I’ll be home in an hour. I love you, so much. See you soon.”

  Bracing herself against the cool tiled wall, Molly pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed quietly.

  They sat there for a while in silence then a soft knock at the kitchen door. Molly stood and opened it a crack. Finn. He smiled at his sister.

  “Can I come in?” His voice was soft.

  “It’s okay.” Molly’s voice was gruff. She put her head on her knees, feeling him sit down in front of her. He slid his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his.

  “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

  “You haven’t got anything to apologize for. I haven’t any right to feel like this. None.” She sighed. There was a silence.

  “Yes,” he spoke softly, “you have. You have every right.”

  She put her head on her knees again and he stroked her hair, feeling helpless.

  “It might not be mine.”

  Molly looked up then, the tears flowing again and gave him a sad smile.

  “Might.” And he knew what she meant. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hands over his face. They looked at each other for the longest time.

  “You never stood a chance, did you? The moment she got your ring on her finger, she made your life miserable. And now she’ll do that forever.” She sighed and looked away.

  “I don’t have to stay with her.”

  “You do, Finn. I know you – you’re not like Pa, you won’t walk away from a child that might be yours. So, stay. At least until your child can understand why their mother is such a succubus.”

  Finn smiled gently and Molly wiped her eyes. Finn pulled his sister to her feet and then looked around. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing a stock-take with Sarah tonight?”

  Molly glanced at the clock. “Jeez, I totally forgot. Where the hell is she?”

  She tried to call Sarah and when she got no answer, she shared a look with Finn, an unspoken concern. She quickly dialed Isaac.

  “Hey, Isaac. Is Sarah with you?”

  The look on his sister’s face told Finn everything he needed to know. He grabbed his car keys. “Let’s go.”

  Isaac pulled the car off the ferry and sped through the night, breaking every speed limit in his rush to get to Sarah’s house. When Molly had called and he’d heard the worry in her voice, every nerve ending in his body seemed to flame.
He didn’t even try to talk himself out of the fear. Not being able to get hold of Sarah when he thought she was with Molly was one thing but…

  “Please please please, be okay, be okay…” He hissed out the words between gritted teeth.

  Halfway to Sarah’s house, he saw brake lights in front of him. He sped up to see Finn’s police cruiser in front of him.

  They pulled up to Sarah’s house at the same time and everyone almost fell out of their vehicles.

  “Where is she?” Isaac found himself screaming at the pale, terrified faces of Molly and Finn but he didn’t care. He leaped onto the porch, saw the front door open and burst into the house.

  “Sarah! Sarah!”

  Soon all three of them were screaming through the house, calling her name over and over but they were greeted only by silence and emptiness.

  They met back in the hallway. Molly was openly sobbing now. Finn put his hand on Isaac’s shoulder. Isaac, almost deranged with fear, stared blankly at him.

  “Isaac, breathe. Let’s do a sweep outside. Mols, do you know if Sarah has any flashlights?”

  Molly nodded and went to the cupboard under the stairs pulling out two flashlights and handing them to the men.

  “Mols, stay inside, turn on the lights. Call 911 if we’re not back in ten minutes.”

  The two men plunged into the dark grounds. Finn scooted immediately the boathouse and searched, whilst Isaac moved toward Sarah’s truck. He saw the driver’s side door was slightly open, then, with a shock, he saw blood on the cracked window. He swept his flashlight around the ground. The dirt was disturbed, signs of a fight, a scuffle then – and his heart began to beat erratically – the obvious signs of a body being dragged into the woods.