He walked about a half mile before the perimeter gate came into view. Two of the government SUVs had parked parallel on the road, creating a wall of sorts. The SWAT team discussed a plan of attack with an apparent blueprint of the grounds taped to the side of the vehicle. One man fiddled with a drone sitting idle on the road.
Bobby entered the forest and kept along the outer perimeter until safe from observation. It didn’t take long to find the oak tree along the wall he and Lucy May used to climb. He scaled the low limbs easily, getting close enough to catapult over, but not without minor cuts and scrapes. Once on the other side, he strolled the grounds like he belonged.
He entered a side door, creeping through a storage area until seeing computers and laptops discarded on the floor of the dining room. In another part of the house with a fireplace set in a wall, a paper shredder had been knocked over, sending confetti all over the floor. He could hear the guards’ echoed shouting. They were in self-destruct mode.
A man ran past him, but Bobby yelled out, “Where’s Lucy May?”
“Bobby. Hey, man. She’s in the study.” His thumb shot to the ceiling. “The FBI is right outside the gate.”
Bobby made his way upstairs and down the hall, having been to the mansion every Christmas when he helped decorate it with lights and holly. Once at the study’s splintered doors, he nodded at the guard who sized him up. The semi-automatic in his hand pointed at the floor.
“Mind if I talk with my sister?” He reached for the handle.
“The patronne know you’re here?” The guard’s hand stopped his shoulder from moving forward.
“You’re really asking me that?” Bobby’s eyes stayed on the hand until it came off. The guard considered it. “I guess Miss Mable won’t mind if you talk with her, but she ain’t going nowhere.”
The door opened from the other side as if his sister was expecting him. Lucy May clasped her hands at the sight of him. “Thank God you made it.”
The guard’s gun swung up, slapping it into his other hand. Bobby backed up a step as the man turned to Lucy May. “Get back inside, please.”
Everything Bobby had learned about the vulnerabilities of the spine flashed in his head. His chiropractor had explained how difficult it was to break a neck; how much force was needed. He studied the proper technique, where to grab, how to twist. The process traveled through his brain synapsis in the one second it took to perform it.
The guard fell silently to the ground.
Chapter 88
Angel drove as fast as she dared. So much information shot back and forth in her mind that she felt like she’d snorted cocaine. Mark could be suffering or dead, as well as her real father. Not to mention leaving Lucy May to fend for herself while in the care of a heartless killer. How many decisions would she regret if she lived through this ordeal?
It was fifteen minutes into the drive when she realized Bobby had been listening to hip hop while on his way to save Lucy May. What a unique character. He had such a calm head about him that it inspired her to take a breath. She could only control so much.
After pulling onto her property in the Trap, she headed straight for her house, where she’d formulate a strategic plan of search and rescue, prioritizing location and probability. As she pulled near the driveway, a squad car zipped past her. It stopped at the mailbox on the curb, blocking her entrance. However, it wasn’t Izzy. It was Deputy Moron.
He got out, placing both hands on his belt as if to hold up his pants. “Never thought I’d see you again.”
“What do you want?” Angel slammed her door while still in the middle of the street. He hadn’t even drawn his weapon.
“Izzy has Mark. She told me to get you… take you there.”
“Fuckin’ liar.” The pain from her ATV accident was replaced with rage. She took a big step into Moron’s personal space, driving her elbow across his face. Her left leg planted as she simultaneously grabbed his arm and the back of his neck. Then she drove her knee into his solar plexus. As he fell to the ground, Angel finished by a kick to his head. He was out.
At the end of the long driveway, she could see the house for what it represented; a magnet for evil. No cars were parked out front, but one could be in the garage.
If the electric had been restored, then the surveillance video was working again. The best approach would be the front door, where Moron had shot out the camera.
Angel entered, gun drawn at her shoulder. The house looked the same as when she had last left. The stale smell had returned. She cleared each room quickly, having to cover more ground with no support. So far, all was quiet.
She opened the basement door, then pushed her back flush against the wall. Her firearm extended into the darkness. No sound. No movement in the shadows. Thankfully, she had removed most of Lorna’s stuff, and it wasn’t so cluttered. With careful steps to the basement floor, she kept her finger along side of the trigger.
“Mark,” she called out. A rustling came from the depths. He could be gagged, or maybe a bullet waited.
Angel peeked at the cage from behind a support beam. She saw Mark lying inside it, beaten, with tape over his mouth. He was out cold. Izzy was in the cage, also sitting next to him with a gun to his head. That meant her mother Mable could be somewhere nearby, watching.
“Izzy, let him go.” She stepped forward, exposing herself to all dangers lurking beyond her senses.
Her aunt leaned against him as a lover might. “Mable called to tell me you were coming. And here you are. Like a cat with nine lives. Put the gun down, or I kill him.”
“It’s time to make that deal.” Angel spoke loud in case of hidden ears. She gently placed the gun on the ground. “My real dad is still alive, Mom. That’s a huge loose end.”
Izzy said, “That’s a bluff. There’s no way in hell Simon Hill is still alive.”
“Uncle Earl told me. I know where he is.” Her hands stayed in the air.
This time Izzy hesitated. “You’re lying.”
“Am I bluffing, Mom?” The darkness didn’t answer.
Izzy adjusted her grip. “Even so, we had nothing to do with it.”
Angel couldn’t spring-load fast enough to retrieve her gun and get the drop on Izzy. But maybe if she did the opposite, she could move sloth-like to lull her aunt. Angel edged herself over the weapon.
“If I see you reach for that gun, he’s dead.”
She paused. “I figured it out. Rob had to move Simon from the prison when I came during Doug’s murder, and then again when I came back for the will. Simon Hill had to be moved somewhere close, where someone could easily take care of him. You claim nothing points to you or my mom… prove it by turning yourselves in.”
“I’m wondering if I can blow his head off and get a shot at you before you grab your gun.”
Angel prepared to reach. “You walk out of the cage, and I’ll let you have the win.”
“You’ll let me have the win?”
“You claim you found Mark. You’re the sheriff.” She started to bend at the knees.
“You got some shit with you. You believe her shit?” She looked at Mark as if to get his opinion. “You’re such a fool. You didn’t even hear your mother coming down the stairs…”
A loud pop rang out behind Angel, whizzing past her ear. Her adrenaline must’ve been off the charts not to feel the bullet enter. But then Izzy’s head had already flung backward with a splatter of blood. The gun dropped from her hand as her arm went slack. Gunpowder wafted.
Angel’s mother appeared behind her. “I’m just in time.”
“You killed Izzy. How did you make it out the mansion? The FBI…”
“The FBI didn’t know your grandmother had a tunnel built leading to the guard shack. Never thought it would be used.”
“Why kill Izzy?”
“I like your idea, Blondo. If your real father is alive, then we save him together. This is an amazing chance at proving yourself to the family… to me. We’re going to pin all this on every dead Bl
ondeaux we can think of… right?”
Chapter 89
“Don’t think about reaching for that gun, Blondo,” Angel’s mom commanded.
“So, shoot me.”
“You are the rightful heir.” She circled around Angel to get a better view of Izzy in the cage.
“Heir to what? The family is on the verge of collapse. And after you sliced maw maw’s throat?”
“We’re stronger now, sweetheart. Every single thing that’s happened can be attributed to your grandmother, Izzy, or Trevor. The network is still in place—the loyalty. Rob still has the connections. I know the law. Everything else is speculation and conjecture.”
“But Mark.”
“Mark was held captive by Joe-Joe, and we saved him from Izzy. Look at him. He won’t remember any of this. Izzy’s already in the cage with him. We don’t even have to stage it.”
“What about Simon Hill? Where does it end?” She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back.
“It ends here. Simon Hill will live. Rob is with him as we speak. We say Paulette kidnapped him. You save him when I tell you where he is. I had no idea he was still alive, of course. We can rebuild the empire. You can get to know your real father. Make the right choice, Angel. Don’t abandon your family twice.”
“Tell me what you meant when you said you made sure from birth that I wouldn’t betray the family?”
Her mother inhaled with remembrance. “From the moment you could talk, I used to tell you that if you ever tattled on Mommy and Daddy, God would strike us all down except you, leaving you all alone. I told you that quite often.”
“Jesus, Mom. No wonder I had that anxiety.”
“I was worried with how you were such a goodie-goodie. But it worked.”
“It did. The FBI is already going to fire me. What else do I have?” She rubbed at her eyes.
She grinned meekly. “On the other hand, I’m not that gullible.”
A slight tensing of her mom’s shoulders was enough to know she applied pressure to the trigger. The gun went off just as Angel let her weight fall. However, her mom’s bullet had torn a hole above her left clavicle. A searing pain ignited her shoulder as her gun once at her feet, disappeared from her sight.
“My only regret is that you won’t bear me a granddaughter.” She stood over Angel, pointing the weapon at her head.
“Wait a darn second,” a deep twangy voice descended the staircase in haste. “Thank God you’re both alive.”
Mable swung the gun to the sound. “I told you not to leave Simon’s room.”
Angel saw Rob appear in the dim lighting. “Let me say goodbye to my daughter first. Before you do that.”
Mable grew animated. “Angel disappointed you time and again. Since when do you care?”
“Ever since I named her.” He stepped to her side. “Let me say what I have to say to my baby girl.”
“Be quick about it.”
Rob divided Angel and her mom’s line of sight. He knelt, leaning over to face her. Rob’s face commanded her attention, obscuring the stranger behind him. He looked relaxed, slightly smiling like when he used to kiss her boo-boos.
“Darlin’, I think we did the best we could.” He took her hands, holding them near his heart. “Sometimes in life, things go your way, sometimes they don’t.”
“Life lessons? Now?” she croaked.
Rob eased a gun into her hand, giving her a nod. “I do love you, even though I have a backwards way of showing it.” He stood. “She’s all yours.”
Angel waited until Rob had cleared her line of sight. Mable aimed, unaware Angel brandished her own firearm. When her mom’s eyes widened, Angel fired, hitting her mother square in the chest. The trigger hung up on her mother’s finger as she collapsed to the ground.
“Dad, Mark needs…”
“I already called for help, baby girl. Just relax.” He wrapped a towel under her armpit and around her wound, tying it off tight. “It went straight through, but you’re bleeding. It might’ve hit an artery.”
“Who’s left for you to call?”
“The firehouse. Got the paramedics coming. The cousins will do right by us. You did so good.”
“You wanted me to kill her?”
“I’m a chicken-shit.” He smirked. “And your mother scares the crap outta me.”
“I killed Mom,” she hissed. “I can’t believe I killed Mom. How could you put that on me?”
“It was fate, baby girl. You and her… it had to be settled this way. It’s over.”
Angel’s teeth clinched. “Simon Hill.”
“He’s safe.”
“Unless I pass out, we’re going to get him.”
He exhaled in resignation. “If you can walk, I’ll take you.” The wailing of the ambulance could be heard. “The paramedics can take care of Mark.”
“Damn straight, I can walk.” Angel let out an unexpected scream as her dad helped her up. “Let’s go get Simon.”
Chapter 90
Blood soaked Angel’s makeshift bandage. If she hadn’t bled out by now, then the bullet must not have hit anything important. She used Rob’s cell to contact Donald. One father rushed them to where her other father was being held. The agony in her shoulder was nothing like she’d ever felt, but the immediacy of rescuing Simon Hill dampened the pain. Rob avoided a bumpy ride.
After a mile of silence, Angel finally asked, “Dad, where are the boys buried?”
He swallowed hard, keeping his eyes forward. “Not where you’re digging. I’ll tell you soon enough. One thing at a time.”
The Rock eased to a halt in front of Joe-Joe’s house, where he had lived alone for the past seven years. Rob met Angel on her side of the truck, letting her dictate their pace to the front door. Rob used his key.
Sweat streamed down Angel’s face. She hadn’t been inside Joe-Joe’s house since she left for college. Rob supported her on the way to the reinforced door installed in the back bedroom. He stopped before opening it. “You need to prepare yourself, baby girl. He’s not the same boy from the pictures.”
“I get that.”
“Just sayin’. He’s not going to see you the same way you see him. I reckon he might not want anything to do with you.”
Angel’s shoulder ached down to her fingers. Pressure was building behind her eyes. “I’m prepared. Open the door.”
Rob knocked twice, explaining to her, “Simon was instructed to put his shackles on before me or Joe-Joe enter. It’s his routine. He’s very set in a routine.”
Angel gingerly stepped inside the room. Simon Hill lay on a thick mattress with chains on his feet. His hair was shaved like a military buzz cut. He didn’t appear scared or excited. If anything, he was mildly curious.
The rank room indicated that neither he nor his sweaty clothes had been washed in a while. Bricks covered the one window. The only saving grace was the ceiling vent. There were books and magazines randomly stacked, and an old flatscreen bolted to the wall.
“Simon?” Angel choked out.
He said nothing.
“It’s over, Simon.” Rob stepped forward. “This is your daughter. She’s with the FBI. You’re free.”
“Am I being moved again?” Simon finally said.
Angel cleared her throat so she could speak. “We’re going to take you to a hospital. You’ll never be locked up again.”
He didn’t move. He said nothing for a long moment. “FBI? Is this… is this… real?”
“It’s real, Simon.” Rob unlocked his shackles, throwing them to the floor.
“You get to go home.” Angel choked on the words.
Simon Hill didn’t attempt to get up. He didn’t stand. All he did was stare in curiosity as if he didn’t understand English.
“Oh, God.” Angel backed out of the room, falling against the wall as her emotions burst open like a broken dam. Her good hand covered her face, as the pain in her arm brought her to floor, where she lost consciousness.
Epilogue
Six months later
* * *
Angel sat on the spanking new concrete bench with wooden slats, facing Wildcat Lake, recently named for the Brockton baseball players. A metal plaque dedicated to the team was bolted to the bench. Simon Hill inhaled deeply, staring over the watery grave where his friends had spent three decades under the lake floor. Where they still remain.
Most of the trees surrounding the lake had ribbons and memorials. Crosses were displayed just offshore, as a more permanent display. Lucy May had promised to donate the surrounding land to build a community park as the house had been bulldozed. Lucy May and Bobby would live together in New Orleans as they started a new life.
“I like the apartment.” Simon sipped his beer.
“My friend Delilah lived two doors down from you.”
“My therapist thinks my assimilation is going great. So much has changed.”
Angel tapped her beer bottle with his. “Glad you can visit with me.”
Simon wore plain white Nikes, jogging shorts and a tee shirt. His hair had grown out. It seemed he thought about his movements before making them. “My parents came by yesterday. It was nice. One day they’re going to want to visit you and me together. Not only did they get their son back, they have a granddaughter.”
“I do need a new maw maw.” She stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry. That’s bad.”
“You can’t offend me.” He tapped her hand with his palm but didn’t let it linger. “They’ve finally accepted that I need to live alone.”
“I can’t imagine their joy. They're good people.”
“Yeah, sometimes, I’m so overwhelmed.”
“With therapy?”
He nodded. “And hospital visits.”
“Is that going good?” She felt she needed to extract information, as he wasn’t used to conversation.
“My survivor’s guilt is the biggest obstacle. I stood out here and watched them dive with the digging equipment, confirming my team was there. I had to distance myself from all the other parents on the opposite shore. I just couldn’t be near them. I watched as they hugged each other and cried. My parents didn’t understand that I couldn’t… I just couldn’t.”
Blood Parish Page 27
