The Door at the Top of the Stairs

by Alison Naomi Holt

  Laughter floated up from the copse of trees they'd ridden through earlier, and after a minute, Jesse and Sandra rode out into the open and up to the group. Ron rode up to them, a stiffness to his back that meant trouble for whomever he'd singled out. Morgan rode over and joined the three riders, listening as Ron asked where they'd been.

  Sandra smiled. “Well, I became separated from the group, and luckily Jesse found me. We followed the sound of the horn." She reached over and squeezed Jesse's arm. “She was just what the doctor ordered. I’d still be lost and frustrated if she hadn't come along."

  Morgan watched Jesse rub her eyelids, then sit back and cross her arms. The glint of amusement she saw when Jesse raised her eyes told her everything she needed to know. Jesse raised her eyebrows at Morgan's glare and cocked her head as though daring her to call her out.

  Andy's voice carried over the meadow as he called the hounds to order, and a thought suddenly occurred to Morgan. She swiveled around in her saddle and studied Mary, who was waiting by the stream with Ryland. At one point, Mary had been one of her whippers-in, only moving to the second flight as a favor to Morgan who had needed her in that position when her other Field Master had been taken ill with cancer.

  Ron rejoined the other members of the club, and Sandra moved over to talk to her husband, who was visiting with some riders about the merits of the various breeds of horses used in foxhunting. Morgan swiveled back around and smiled. The amusement left Jesse's face, and she shifted nervously in her saddle, wondering why Morgan looked so pleased with herself.

  The hounds finished cooling themselves, and Morgan called them to her and started walking toward home. She signaled for Ryland and Mary to join her as she led the hounds back the way they had come. Jesse fell in behind the second flight and rode by herself, wondering what Morgan was up to.

  When both riders joined her, Morgan turned to Mary. “How would you like to become a whip again?"

  As far as Mary was concerned, the only position other than whipper-in she cared to hold was huntsman, and she knew, with luck, it would be another twenty years before Morgan vacated that slot. "I would pay you to put me back in that position. Heck, I might even stop drinking Mom's recipe if I didn't have to stay with the second flight."

  "Even if you had a whip trainee along for the ride?"

  Mary smiled and caught Morgan's eye. “You mean like a one-on-one where certain trainees would be under my thumb and couldn't get into any trouble? Absolutely. But I take back what I said about Mom's recipe. I think I might need it after all."

  Ryland moved Barney close to Aristotle and reached over to rub Morgan's back. “My love, I think you are the best Master any club could ever have."

  Morgan felt silly blushing at Ryland's praise, but her cheeks turned a healthy shade of red as she basked in the compliment.

  Mary inconspicuously rode back to join Jesse, and the two of them sipped the recipe, more judiciously this time, as they followed the club to the trailers.

  Christmas came and went, and Jesse was inordinately relieved once the holidays were over. She'd lost her parents at a fairly young age, and she’d never enjoyed being odd person out at holiday functions. Morgan began ground-training her with the hounds, teaching her the basics of becoming a whip. She'd started bringing Tums with her in the mornings because Jesse caused her no end of grief. It was one of Jesse's little pleasures in life.

  After one particularly freezing cold day of hunting, Morgan and Ryland finished their day's work and headed off to bed earlier than usual. They'd been invited to hunt with a neighboring club the next morning, and since they had to get up early to get there, they were sound asleep by nine.

  A cold breeze blowing through the house tickled Morgan's subconscious, and when the wind blew through her hair, she came fully awake. It was the middle of January, and there was no way they would have left a window open. She opened her eyes to a gun barrel resting next to her forehead, the curtains from their open bedroom window blowing gently in the breeze.

  "So, you're finally awake. I wondered how long I'd be able to watch two women sleeping so soundly side by side."

  Ryland sat up and unconsciously moved behind Morgan, pulling her nightgown up tight around her throat.

  The man focused on her, then down at the fabric clenched in her fist. "Don't worry, my little lesbian, I haven't come for you. I've lost one of my sheep, and I believe you have her."

  Morgan's blood suddenly ran cold. She saw the scar descending from the man's hairline to his eyebrow, and moved her eyes back down to meet his. She heard another man laugh, and she realized someone else was standing next to Ryland's side of the bed.

  The first man, whom the women realized had to be Richard, reached over and slowly lifted Morgan's robe from the chair next to the bed. The other man did the same with Ryland's. "Here, put your robes on and let's go into the living room where we can all be more comfortable."

  Both women pulled on their robes and walked in front of the men into the living room. Richard pointed toward the couch with his pistol and they walked over and sat. He took a seat in the wing chair and the second man stood by the window, watching the path to the barn. Richard crossed one leg over the other and said calmly,

  “It shouldn't be long. Then we'll be on our way and the two of you can go quietly back to sleep."

  They sat in silence, Morgan not sure what she could do, Ryland recognizing insanity when she saw it. A shot rang out from the direction of the barn. The man at the window turned quickly to Richard, who just shook his head. “Tsk, tsk. I told Miguel not to get too close to her, didn't I, Guillermo? Relax, my friend. She'll be here soon enough, with or without Miguel's help." Guillermo turned back to the window and continued watching the path.

  Richard casually stood up, walked over to Ryland and sat next to her, draping his arm around her neck. He pointed the muzzle of his gun at her mouth and said happily, “Open up, my little lesbian."

  Ryland opened her mouth and he shoved the barrel in. He looked at Morgan. “No heroics, or I'll blow her pretty brains all over your very nice couch." They sat like that for almost five minutes until Richard finally sang out, “Come out, come out, wherever you are."

  Very slowly, with a gun aimed at Guillermo, Jesse stepped out from the kitchen into the open living room. "Don't turn around, Guillermo, or you'll be as dead as Miguel."

  Guillermo froze, and Jesse walked over to him and took his gun. She tucked it into her belt, felt under his arms, around his waist band, and at the bottom of both pant legs. "Get on the ground, Guillermo."

  Guillermo went to his knees, then down on his stomach. Only then did she turn her attention to Richard and the two women on the couch. "So Richard, you didn't die? Even the devil wouldn't take you, huh?"

  Richard shrugged. “I'm here."

  "And you want me back…."

  "Of course. After you and those cretins left me to die, Guillermo and Miguel saved my life. It's taken me over a year to find you, but God always rewards a persistent man." He casually pointed to Morgan with the hand he had draped around Ryland's neck. "We have your honest, law-abiding employer to thank for that. She was the first one to actually report your earnings to the government. Your social security number finally showed up in the computers." He laughed. "A little money, a greedy but lovely, federally employed data entry clerk, and voila! I have my little sheep again."

  Jesse finally looked at Ryland, then at Morgan. "Well, here's how we're gonna do this. Guillermo and I are leaving. When we're gone, I'll give you thirty minutes to leave as well, then I'll call the sheriff. When I get a call from him that you left them in one piece, I’ll give the guns to Guillermo, and I'm yours."

  "No!" Morgan pushed up from the sofa and Richard pushed the gun further down Ryland's throat. Ryland gagged, felt for Morgan's robe and grabbed it, pulling her back down to the couch.

  She'd dealt with insanity before. Morgan hadn't. She was terrified.

  Morgan wasn't terrified enough.

  Jesse
smiled a little at Morgan. She held her gaze for a long time, blinked back some tears, and nodded. "This time, you get to do what I say. When the sheriff gets here, have him call your phone in the truck. When I know you're both safe, Richard can have me." Jesse cocked her head sideways, worried more for her friends than for herself. “What more can he do to me, Morgan?"

  Jesse shifted her gaze to Richard. “Absolutely nothing."

  Richard nodded. "Take him and go. I don't like to be kept waiting."

  Jesse stepped back and told Guillermo to get to his feet. She motioned with her chin for him to go out the front door. He stepped to the door and she said, “Wait."

  She took Morgan's keys off the front table. "Gotta borrow your truck, Morg. I'll be sure you get it back, okay?" When she held Morgan's eyes, memories of the past six months came flooding back, and she wished she could say what needed to be said. She looked at Ryland and knew it would be a fatal mistake to let Richard know how much these two women meant to her. There was one thing she could do though. She turned to Richard. “Take the gun out of her mouth, Richard. I don't want to remember her that way."

  "Your word, my little sheep going bravely off to slaughter."

  "My word." Jesse clenched her jaw to keep her eyes from filling with tears, but one escaped just the same. She reached up and angrily wiped it away.

  Richard chuckled and removed the gun.

  Jesse didn’t say anything. She just held Ryland's gaze, then Morgan's, trying communicate more than thank you, more than I love you both. She turned and motioned again for Guillermo to lead her out into the yard.

  Once outside, she opened the bed of the truck, then had him get in and lie on his stomach. She tied his hands and feet behind his back with bailing wire and connected them, pulling his hands back and down to his feet and securing them together. She took another wire, wrapped it around his throat and wrapped the end of that one around his ankles. Pulling the end of one of the wires to the tailgate, she shut it in the gate to secure him in the bed. The farm had become her home, Ryland and Morgan her family. She took one last, sad look around, got in the truck and drove away.

  Richard watched from the living room window. He aimed his gun at the back of Jesse's head and mimed pulling the trigger.

  "Pow. You're dead, Little Sheep." He turned back to the women and grinned. “Ah, but that's too easy for her, no?" He stepped over to the little bar, picked up a bottle of sherry and three glasses, then walked back to the couch and set them on the coffee table. "A very good vintage—from Spain, I believe?" He poured them each a glass and motioned for them to take one. Ryland did as he said, but Morgan refused.

  Ryland reached down, picked up the third glass and handed it to her lover. "I won't live without you, Morgan. Don't push him, please."

  Richard chuckled and sipped the sherry. “Very good advice, my little lesbian. It takes very little to make me angry."

  Morgan blinked back tears and took the glass.

  Richard held up the glass in a toast. “To the pleasures of the flesh."

  The women slowly reached up and tapped his glass with theirs. They both pretended to drink, but neither could.

  Richard finished his drink and stood. “Time for me to go.

  Your phones are dead. All you need to do is wait for the sheriff to arrive, and please follow your instructions. I'd hate for Jesse to hear that you're both very dead back on the farm."

  He left them sitting on the couch, numb and frightened but still very much alive.

  Several sheriff's cars surrounded the house a short time later.

  "You in the house—come out slowly where we can see your hands."

  Morgan took Ryland's hand and the two of them stepped out onto the front porch. The sheriff motioned toward some deputies who converged on the house to search it. When they'd finished, one stepped out the front door. “All clear here, Sheriff."

  The sheriff told several of them to go search the barn. Morgan said, “You'll probably find a dead man down there."

  The sheriff nodded. “That's what Jesse told me. She explained everything. She wouldn't tell me where she was, but I don't think she realizes you have GPS on your truck, Morgan. We're closing in on it as we speak." He opened his cell phone, dialed a number and listened a minute. When Jesse answered, he said, "I've got them.

  They're not hurt."

  She immediately disconnected.

  Morgan realized whom he'd called and grabbed the phone from him. "Jesse?" She looked at the display. Call ended. She pushed send, willing Jesse to pick up the phone. The answering machine picked up, and she hit end, and then send again.

  The sheriff gently took the phone from her. “She probably knows we can trace the truck phone. What she doesn't know about is your GPS. That's what we're counting on."

  Morgan grabbed onto the little hope he was offering. "You've got to stop her! We can leave, and we'll be safe, but you have to find her and stop her!"

  "We're trying, Morgan, but I don't think she wanted to be found. She said she had some unfinished business to attend to if she could, and if she couldn't, well...." He looked down at his boots, then back up at the two women. “She said to tell you goodbye, that she loved you, and that she'd be watching over both of you until she saw you again."

  Tears fell unchecked down Ryland's face as she turned and walked back into the house. Morgan watched her go, then asked the sheriff. “When will you know, Mike? How long before you find the truck?"

  "Sheriff?" A deputy walked back up the path to the house.

  "One dead in the barn. Shot in the head. We're gonna need Doc Hayward and the body wagon."

  The sheriff turned back to Morgan. “As soon as I know, you'll know, Morgan. I promise." He stepped to his patrol car and made the necessary calls for the Office of the Medical Examiner, who was actually just a local doctor, then made arrangements for an ambulance service to stand by to pick up the body. He spoke to the deputy. "Show me the body while we're waiting."

  Morgan watched the two of them walk down the path to the barn. She followed them half-way, then turned aside and sat on the bench where she'd proposed to Ryland ten years earlier. When the sheriff returned, he sat next to her.

  "Any news yet?"

  Michael shook his head, then got on his radio. “Sheriff Carlson to dispatch."

  The radio crackled. “Dispatch."

  "Any news on Morgan's truck?"

  "10-4. Highway Patrol located it about thirty miles north of here. It was empty. They said there was a lot of blood next to one of the tires—a lot of blood and some drag marks."

  Morgan felt light headed. She covered her face with her hands, slowly leaned over into her friend's arms and, for the first time in many, many years, completely broke down.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Jesse waited inside the truck for the sheriff's call. When the phone rang, she grabbed it, terrified she'd hear that Richard had murdered the only people she cared about in the world.

  "I've got them. They’re not hurt."

  She immediately hung up, her relief so palpable she felt light headed. There was no way she would endanger their lives again by crossing Richard. The truck phone rang again, and she ignored it as she walked to the back of the truck and unwound the bailing wire she'd used to tie Guillermo. She handed him the guns and his cell phone. “Here. Call Richard."

  He sneered, then put the phone on speaker. Richard picked up on the first ring. "Yes?"

  "I've got her."

  "Good. Now, shoot her in the leg, but make sure you miss the artery. I want to know she can't run, but I want her very much alive."

  Guillermo pointed at the outside of Jesse's thigh and pulled the trigger. Jesse felt a blinding pain shoot up her spine and she crumpled to the ground.

  She heard Richard laugh over the speaker. “Now, tell me where you are."

  "I don't know where we are. She had me tied in back."

  Jesse took off her sweatshirt, pulled her t-shirt off, then pulled the sweatshirt back on. She
spoke as she tore the t-shirt into strips and wrapped them around her bleeding thigh. She knew if she didn’t get the bleeding under control, she’d be dead before Richard got there. “Tell him to go east on State Route forty-nine, then north on one-fifty for twenty miles. There’s an old billboard on the right hand side of the road. It says something about some kind of cigarette. He needs to turn right on the dirt road immediately beyond the sign. If he follows that road he’ll find us.” Guillermo relayed the message and then they waited until Richard arrived. When he drove up, the two men handcuffed her, dragged her to Richard’s car, threw her in the trunk, and drove away. They drove for several days. Once or twice a day, Guillermo would open the trunk, pour some water down Jesse's throat, and shut it again. At one stop, they opened the trunk and cleaned and re-bandaged her leg.

  "I can't have my little sheep dying too soon now, can I?"

  Richard smiled and gently ran his hand through her hair. "We have many, many fun times ahead of us, Little Sheep. We're almost to our room." He stepped back, and Guillermo shut the trunk again.

  The next time it opened, they dragged her out and threw her down the stairs into the dirt room. Richard looked down from above. “I have to leave for a while, Little Sheep, business that can't wait. You know how that can be. Guillermo will watch over you while I'm gone, and when I return, we will begin our little talks."

  Once Richard left, Guillermo began bringing her little bits of food and made her drink water to keep her alive. After the fourth day, he came down to talk, and she guessed there was no one else around to keep him entertained. He told her about his hometown in California, which surprised her since she'd assumed he was from Mexico. "You know, Richard was born in Mexico City, but his parents came to America illegally when he was seven. He worked hard in school and went to a good college. He's very wealthy, you know."

  Jesse listened quietly, all the while trying to decide the best way to kill Guillermo. She began to talk, making up stories about her family even though she had none. Her plan was to lull him into a sense of security, a camaraderie where he would drop his defenses one too many times. Then she could do what she needed to do.