by Nicole Young
He gave a low laugh. “She was once known as the Debutante of Dublin. A dazzler by day but part of Dublin’s retribution bomb squad by night. She retired to the
U.S. to raise her daughter in safety. She was one mistake I’m sure old Ambassador Braddock paid for the rest of his life.”
My knee banged the tunnel wall as he dragged me around a corner.
“I’m only glad the Debutante of Dublin blamed you for Jane’s death instead of taking out her revenge on me,” he added.
38
My legs scrambled to keep up to Simon’s fast pace. “You killed Jane?”
“The professor was paying me to protect you. Majestic was paying me to track you. And Jane got in the way. She knew too much and was using the information to get more of the Braddock fortune. I could have cared less until she tried to get a piece of my action. You elbow in on a hit, you end up at the bottom of a cliff.”
I dug my fingernails into the skin of his hand. “That’s disgusting. It was Thanksgiving Day.”
He cried out in surprise and slugged my temple. “You’re right. I should have waited until it wasn’t a national holiday.”
I blinked back tears, determined to remain in control of my emotions during crisis. I craned my neck around, but all I could see was Simon’s chin. “Can we take a break? I can’t keep going this speed with your arm cutting off my air.”
He waved his weapon in front of my face. A thick, straight piece of wood, like the handle of a wooden spoon, sharpened to a deadly point. Simple, nonmetallic, and effective in gaining my cooperation.
We passed a couple signs on the wall. SURGE CHAMBER, said one. REFUGE, said the other. Both arrows pointed ahead.
“Which way, Pops?” Simon twisted my neck as he asked the question, earning a good yell.
My dad was bent over, catching his breath. “You can’t get out this way. I already told you.”
“Come on, old man. There must be an escape tunnel somewhere.”
Dad shook his head. “The refuge is where you go if the escape tunnels collapse. There’s food and water in there.”
“I feel a breeze,” Simon said, holding out a hand to catch the air. “Where’s it coming from?”
“The vent shaft for the surge chamber,” Dad answered. “It’s a straight shot up. Unless you’re Spiderman, you can’t get out that way.”
Simon squeezed my neck. I started to gag.
“Unless I see daylight pretty quick, you’re going to watch your daughter die.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” Dad gestured helplessly with his arms. “They’re coming for you. I suggest you give up without a fight.”
Simon dragged me through a metal arch toward the sound of rushing water. Dad followed behind. Another vast cavern, this one with a railing and a straight drop to swirling foam below.
“It’s a dead end,” my dad said.
“Dead end for you, maybe. Where’s this thing go?” Simon gestured to the water below.
Dad shook his head. “You wouldn’t have a chance. If you made it out of the lower chamber alive, it’s still almost two kilometers through the tailrace to open water.”
“Then you better hope we can backtrack through the escape tunnel. I only get paid when Majestic gets his man.”
A sound like a footstep, or a rock falling, came from the route behind us. Simon turned, yanking my head around with him. The sharp pointy stick prodded my jugular.
Candice stood in the archway.
“You’re okay.” My voice came out squeaky under pressure. From the shadows came Suzette, Monique, then Meagan. “Suzette, get the girls out of here,” my dad said, panic in his voice.
“Mr. Scroll is outnumbered, Jacob,” Candice purred. “I think he’ll put his kabob stick down and give up quietly.” She stood with her arms crossed, looking sleek in her black clothing. The other women followed suit, standing in menacing formation.
Simon laughed, each shake of his body driving the point farther into my skin. “Afraid of a bunch of girls? You look like more hostages to me.”
I grabbed his forearm, nudging the solid mass of muscle away from my air pipe. “Don’t mess with Candice. Trust me. Put the weapon down and run for your life.” “It’s good advice, Mr. Scroll,” she said. “I’ll give you ten seconds to comply.”
Simon laughed.
Candice dug into her pocket and took out a slim squirt bottle, as small as a breath mint dispenser.
“What’s that? Anthrax-on-the-go?”
“Something a little more fast-acting,” Candice seethed. With a quick thrust of her finger, a shot of liquid arced across the space between them. I felt a drop land on the back of my hair, even as Simon hollered and bent down, rubbing his eyes with both hands.
My head was still locked in his grip, but while he writhed, I made a sharp twist and jerked myself free- not without a jab to the neck.
“It’s amazing how effective good old-fashioned pepper spray can be. My own recipe too.” Candice grabbed my arm and pulled me out of reach of my captor.
I held a hand to my neck. Wet, oozing blood stuck to the fur of my new parka. “Jerk,” I said, grateful Simon had missed a major artery.
Simon slashed out with his pointy stick, slicing at my father’s shirt. Dad jumped back, perhaps considering whether it was worth trying to subdue the raving man.
Eyes red and watery and still completely closed, Simon screamed as he gashed the air with his weapon. “You’re going to die, Russo. You and your daughter both. I’m not done with you. Don’t try to leave.”
My dad walked away from the screaming lunatic and swept his wife and younger daughters into his arms and urged them back into the tunnel. “Come on, Patricia,” he called to me.
Simon made a blind lunge toward the sound of his voice, and caught hold of Candice’s jacket.
“Let go.” Her voice was low and threatening.
But Simon had the opposite intention. He pulled Candice to him and drove the point of his stick through the leather into her side.
“Ahhh!” Her scream echoed through the surge chamber. Simon flung her body around blindly, stabbing wherever his weapon found a weakness.
“Candice!” I screamed and ran toward them.
Blood ran from her face, her legs, her arms. She looked ripped to shreds. Candice screamed and flailed, but the angry man kept lashing out, showing no mercy.
I kicked at the back of his leg, popping it out from under him. He hollered and whirled, letting go of Candice and coming toward me, eyes barely slits across his face.
A slew of insults rolled across his lips. I dodged him, no plan in mind as I raced along the rail, heading through the gloom toward a blank rock wall.
“Really smart, Tish,” I chided myself as I ran along. In seconds I’d reached the end of the line. Panting, I turned to face Simon, too late to dodge the brute force that plowed me into the cavern wall. The air rushed out of me the same time my head made a deafening crunch against the stones. I opened my eyes in time to see his fist coming toward my face, weapon in hand.
I ducked to one side, feeling the point rip across my cheek and harpoon an earlobe exposed beneath my hardhat. No breath to scream, I rolled under Simon’s arm, feeling a tug and burning pain at the side of my head as the weapon pulled free of my skin. I scrambled away, my only thought survival, as Candice limped past me to confront our attacker.
“Just run,” I gasped.
She ignored me, fixed on her target. I turned to watch in horror as the older woman wrangled with Simon, the tip of the weapon only inches from her heart.
With a cry, she landed against the rail, leaning backward over the flowing water as she tried to avoid getting stabbed again.
Footsteps sounded behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see my father. He reached me, putting his arm around me just as Candice screamed and slipped over the rail. At the last moment her arms reached up and clung to Simon’s neck, bending him forward in a precarious dip over the railing. He tried pushing her away, but
she swung her dangling body, knocking him off balance and tumbling him forward until only his back end was still on our side of the barrier. With a final grunt, Candice yanked him clear of the metal rods.
“Candice!” I screamed and raced to the rail to see two bodies plummet to the swirls below. The double splash was barely audible over the sound of rushing water.
“Dad! Do something!” My fingers clung to the cold railing.
His arms held me, his silence answer enough.
I stared into the black water, reaching as if I could somehow pluck Candice from the maelstrom.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Was she special to you?” My dad’s voice broke through my vain attempt to raise Can-dice from the depths with prayer and wishful thinking. I broke into a loud moan, only able to nod my reply. How foolish was it to be sad that the woman I came here to put out of commission was now dead? Shouldn’t I be rejoicing? I hadn’t even dirtied my own hands.
But this wasn’t the ending I’d really wanted. Yes, I’d wanted to hurt Candice in revenge for shooting Brad. But I could never have killed her. Forgiveness would have somehow welled up at the last moment and stopped any deadly blow. After all, hadn’t she come to Churchill Falls to save my father? That favor deserved better than death. Besides, Candice hadn’t actually killed Brad. If he was dying now, it was by his own choice.
Tears dripped onto my knuckles, still clenched around the iron rail. “Is there any hope at all?” I whispered.
My dad’s hand rubbed over my back. “We’ve been running at low capacity for repairs, so the flow is down and divers can retrieve the bodies if necessary. But no, honey. I don’t think it’s possible to make it out alive.”
I nodded and crumpled, forehead to my hands against the banister. There was no chance now of Happy Ever After for Puppa. His love story had come to an end here in the cold dampness of a man-made cavern, the bare glow of overhead lamps illuminating the freezing waters of an underground river.
Lifting my head, I gazed across the expanse. Yet because of Candice and my hunger for revenge, I found my father-and my sisters. Perhaps without realizing it, Candice had given far more than she’d taken.
Humble and sad, with a glimmer of understanding for the whole warped thing, I turned to my father. “I imagine we’ve got some questions to answer. But when we’re done here,” I took a deep breath for courage, “am I still invited to supper tonight?”
He laughed through his tears, holding me in a fierce grip. “Always, Patricia. Always.”
39
Divers found Simon’s body the next day, tangled up in the tailrace portal. The only sign of Candice was her leather jacket, frozen stiff on the riverbank. They figured they’d find the rest of her downstream come spring.
During questioning, I’d gladly given police the weapon Candice had brought to my hotel room, along with all the details I could think of regarding Simon Scroll’s deadly connections, and Candice’s attempt at saving our lives. Of course, I listed “visit family” as my reason for being in Churchill Falls, rather than “punish Candice.” The chief gave our five-member family unit a stiff warning as to the dangers of getting involved with people who engage in illegal activities and the seriousness of causing a near international incident at a major power company. Before dismissing us, he contacted authorities in Del Gloria for me, informing them of Alexa Rigg’s act of vengeance.
We thanked him on our way out the door.
“What’s going to happen with your job?” I asked Dad during my last supper at the Jamison home before catching the puddle jumper for Goose Bay.
Dad speared a chunk of roast beef. “I laid it all on the table-running from Majestic, changing my name-and thank God the police chief is a reasonable man. We’re pretty close-knit here in Churchill Falls and I think they’ll want to keep Suzette and the girls around.” His eyes sparkled as he looked around the table at his family. “I’m guessing they’ll cut me some slack.”
Suzette used the edge of her fork to chop up her baked potato. “I think they’ll miss more than just Suzette and the girls, honey. You’re a very valuable employee.” She turned her gaze to me. “Your dad performs every function at the plant well, from repairing the communications network, to troubleshooting the turbines. He’s not one to sit at the bar or be late for a shift or snooze on the job. I’m sure the results of the investigation will be in Roger’s favor.”
“What about you guys?” I asked Meagan and Monique. “Have I totally humiliated you by showing up here?”
“No way!” Meagan got a big smile across her ten-year-old face. “I can’t wait to tell my friends about my cool new sister. You rocked. That guy was going to kill you and you were so brave.”
Monique piped in. “Yeah. I don’t know how you stayed so calm. I would have been freaking out.”
I smiled and waved a hand in dismissal. “Well, when you get to be my age and you live through a few things, little stuff like that doesn’t even get to you anymore.”
Meagan’s eyes got big. “Cool.”
A burst of pride rose in my chest as I looked around the table at my newfound family. I had a dad. And a stepmom. Two-no, three-sisters. And they loved me. They accepted me. I couldn’t wait to tell Brad.
My fork halted midair, steam rising from buttery, golden corn. I couldn’t tell Brad. There was no Happy Ever After for Tish and Brad in this new reality.
The fork clinked as I dropped it to the plate, my appetite as gone as my love life.
“Everything okay, Patricia?” Dad asked, face scrunched in concern.
Elbows on the table, I leaned my head in my hands. “No. Candice shot my boyfriend and he gave up on life and never wants to see me again.” My blubbering sounded stupid, even to me.
The table was silent and I could just imagine everyone looking at each other like I’d finally lost it. Roger, just get her to the airport, Suzette must be thinking.
“Hey,” sixteen-year-old Monique touched my shoulder. I crossed my arms and looked at her.
“The same thing happened to Renee when her boyfriend got hurt in wrestling last winter,” Monique said. “He was feeling really bad about himself while his leg was messed up and tried to break up with her for her own good. She basically told him it wasn’t going to happen. He could break up with her when his leg was healed, but not before. She stuck it out, even though he was really hard to be around for a while. Today, they’re still together and really happy.” She gave a hopeful shrug. “Maybe you could try doing that?”
Out of the mouths of babes. I stared at Monique. Maybe her idea would work. It was worth a shot.
Suzette cleared her throat. “I think it’s probably a little more complex than that, Mo.”
Monique tilted her lips. “Doubt it.”
I took a bite of corn, hungry with new hope, savoring my last moments in Churchill Falls before embarking on my journey home.
We cleaned up our supper, laughing and smiling on top, but unable to ignore the bittersweet beneath.
“Do you think you’ll be safe here now?” I asked Dad as he handed me a wet plate to dry.
“I think so. After I told him the whole story, the chief made it sound like the Canadian government could do some arm-twisting to get Frank Majestic put away once and for all. What happened here was a matter of international concern. They’re not going to let some pot dealer mess around with the employees at a plant that supplies power to a good chunk of North America. Frank will get shut down and no one will hear from him again. I guess in a way, it’s good this happened. I feel free at last. And,” he looked at me, perhaps with that same adoration in his eyes as with his other daughters, “I finally got to meet my Patricia.”
I put the plate in the cupboard and turned to him. “I can’t imagine having gone a second longer without knowing where you were and who you were and how you lived your life. In a way, I’m glad everything happened just the way it did.” But at the thought of Candice falling into the murky waters of the underground river, a cry gurgled up in
my throat.
Dad put his arms around me. “I know, sweetheart. At what price?”
I waited until my voice was under control. “She had a really bad life. I wish something good could have happened to her. Just once. But then this.”
“Maybe to her, this was the something good. She saved you, didn’t she? Maybe it was that final act of redemption that will give her peace.”
I sniffled and wiped my eyes. “Maybe. I guess I’ll have to think of it like that.”
“Time to go, everyone. The plane won’t wait.” Suzette shooed us all to the car for the drive to the airport. We said our goodbyes on the way, the setting sun orange on the horizon.
“I want to come visit you,” Monique said. “Where will you be? Michigan?”
The question caught me off guard. “I’m supposed to be finishing up my degree in California. I’m just one semester away. After that, I don’t know where I’ll be.”
I thought of Brad. Even if he wanted to be with me, could we make things work? He was a guy from downstate Rawlings who got stuck in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula while he recovered from a gunshot wound-or expired from it, whichever he decided. And I was a nomad now.
“Well,” Monique said, “wherever you are, I’m going to visit.”
“You just want to go to the States,” Meagan said, a tease in her voice.
“Duh,” Monique replied. “And I want to see my big sis again.”
“I’d love to have you, Monique. All of you. Any of you. You’re all welcome wherever I end up.”
Dad made the turn to the terminal building. “We’ll take you up on that, honey. I only wish you didn’t have to leave so soon. We’ve got thirty-three years of catching up to do and we’ve covered, what? Two of them so far?”
He parked.
I held his hand and we walked into the building together. The others followed, bringing my suitcase.
Tearful goodbyes, and soon the plane was in the air, circling the lights below one last time before turning east to Goose Bay.
The travel home was grueling with far too much time to think. Busy enjoying my last moments with family, I’d barely noticed the lump on my head, the sore muscles, the cuts and bruises. But now they consumed my thoughts, along with guilt and remorse over Candice’s death, frustration at Brad, anger due to the fire in Del Gloria and the injuries to my friends, annoyance at Samantha and Joel for taking my house, and sorrow that I didn’t know when I’d get to see my dad, stepmom, and sisters again.
