Retribution

by Jasmine White

  ~ ~ ~

  Katherine wound her car down the curving road that led to Pamela’s beach house. Thick green trees with big brown trunks greeted her on the right first, then as she climbed farther down a panoramic view of a little green valley beckoned her on the left as the road turned and hugged the edge of a steep hill. Once again, her breath caught at the beauty of this place until she checked her rearview mirror and saw Green’s black car pop into view for the nth time. This was ridiculous. Getting coffee together was one thing, but she wanted to enjoy the scenery alone, not with a cop tagging along at her heels. Up ahead she could see a pull-off for tourists, and, slowing down, she pulled onto the gravel, leaning out her window as the sedan stopped alongside hers.

  “I’ll go the rest of the way myself now, thank you. It’s only about five minutes further and Wesley will be there anytime.”

  He hesitated. “Are you sure he’ll be there?”

  “Of course. He has a golf game; then he’ll be right over.”

  “Okay. Phone me if you get left alone.”

  “Will do.”

  “Oh, and thanks for stopping for coffee.”

  “My pleasure. It was good coffee.”

  The two cars pulled back onto the road, hers going straight, his turning around and heading back towards the city.

  Finally she parked her car in the sandy alcove above the beach house and walked barefoot on the path headed towards the house. Katherine was still in an exuberant mood, despite the added coffee stop and the annoyance of being shadowed everywhere. At least she was finally alone now. It was exciting to be working again. She inhaled a deep breath of beach air, tasting the salt as a slight breeze drifted up from the water. New energy flowed through her veins. She hadn’t imagined she could find work so soon after the last project, but here she was, busy again. If Pamela liked her work, she would recommend her to others, and then Kate would be on her way. Her confidence in her ability in her field was growing, and a smile spread across her face.

  The copy of the key Pamela had given her rested gently in her hand as she reached the house and paused to look up at it affectionately. Its exterior stucco and its inside charm warmed her. It's almost a pity to destroy the mismatched effect, but of course no one else would see it that way. Chalk it up to the inner artist. She had to make it all come together for Pamela. Make it more modern.

  She noticed it was chilly inside, and that unlived-in feeling hung in the air. Pamela must not have been here for the last few days since she’d shown them around. Vigorously rubbing her hands on her arms to warm them up, wishing she had more for warmth than her red cardigan, Kate wandered into the living room. This is as good a place to start as any. Plus the sun was beginning to shine in through the window, casting a huge yellow square on the terracotta floor, making it a tad warmer here than the other rooms. Letting her blue handbag slide down her shoulder to the ground, she pulled out her sketchbook and excitedly sat down in the window seat, facing the living room.

  Her fingers flew across the paper as she captured the basic structure of the room in a few gestures with her heavy black pencil. Just as she finished sketching in the archway and the upper balcony, a loud creaking noise interrupted her, breaking her concentration. What was that noise?

  Her hand paused, holding the pencil in midair as she listened. Silence. She shrugged and began sketching again, looking for where she'd left off. Her hand began to move, slower this time. Then she heard it again. It sounded like someone was on the large porch. A stray cat? Maybe Wesley had gotten here early and decided to go around to the back.

  She leaned behind her and opened the window, listening. The gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore and the smell of the sea breeze came in. Nothing more. She told herself to just sit back down, that it was nothing, that she was just having an attack of nerves. But every sense screamed at her to move. The inside of the house seemed to have turned eerie. It felt—it was almost the same 'off' feeling she'd experienced at Drake’s apartment—when she'd found him dead. You'd better not find another body. She tried to laugh off her uneasiness, then quickly repented the horrible thought. Even so, she had to go outside and assure herself there was nothing.

  Setting her sketchbook down beside her, she stood. The house, which a minute ago had seemed so cozy, now felt very empty and desolate. What if she had to call for help? The nearest house was nowhere within screaming distance. You’re letting your imagination run away with you again, girl. She dropped the pencil gently beside the sketchbook, and pulling her cardigan tighter about her, she unlocked the door that led out to the side porch.

  A few birds were circling above the bay, their cries dying in the breeze as they swooped, righted, swooped again. She shivered again and tightened her cardigan, walking to the edge of the porch away from the locker room Pamela had loaned her a swimsuit from the first time she met her. Pamela had joked about being able to hide at this house, well she’d found a good place for it—there wasn’t another home or person in sight.

  The porch creaked again, this time louder and directly behind her. Her heart stopped for an instant and she tried to whirl around, only to be stopped half way as she was grabbed roughly from behind and her right arm was painfully twisted behind her back. Another hand came cruelly over her mouth, cutting off and muffling the scream she let out. Her lungs felt like they were going to explode from lack of oxygen as she struggled frantically against the iron grip. She tried to turn to see her attacker. He gave a harsh jerk on her arm and pushed it farther up her back so that she winced and tried to cry out again.

  “Don’t talk and don’t scream and you won’t be hurt.” The male voice was curt—and very familiar. A sob shook her body and he immediately contradicted his words, jerking her arm even farther up. The muscle felt as though it would tear and she stopped struggling, slumping her shoulders in resignation as she fought the pain. A small sound came from her as she focused on gasping for breath with the little air his hand allowed. She had met her attacker before; she was positive. That faint scent, the familiarity of that voice and its slightly higher tone.

  He spoke again. “I think you know what I’m after.”

  She managed to shake her head, trying to speak, the words coming out muffled against his hand. Finally he released his hand from her mouth, and she gasped out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re the only one that could know, sweet.” That did it. There was only one person who used that endearing term that way with her—it was Jerry!

  “I’m the only one who could know what?” she asked in a small voice. Her mind was churning. She knew Jerry had a tendency towards violent outbursts. Hadn’t Johnny warned her to always be careful around him?

  “Where the letters are. Hand ‘em over. We’ve searched your apartment, so the only place they could be is on you. Are you going to hand them over, or am I going to have to search you?”

  What the heck is he talking about? What letters? Panic was now beginning to take over. She tried to act cool. Even managed a slightly patronizing chuckle.

  “You’re crazy. I don’t know anything about any letters.”

  He turned her around to face him, his ruddy skin even redder in his anger. One arm still held hers pinned behind her back. His other hand grabbed her throat. “You’re lying, you stupid bitch.”

  She tried to scream as he released her arm and put both hands on her throat, tightening them, cutting off her air supply. She tried to hit him with her arms, beat against him, but it didn't do anything to him. He was like a block of stone. Her eyes felt like they were going to burst and she began to slack into his hands.

  “Katherine? Where are you?” Wesley’s voice came as if from a dream.

  Fading from consciousness, Katherine thought she heard the man above her curse as he abruptly released her. She fell off the porch to the sand and lay there holding her throat and gasping for breath as things began to come back into focus.

  “Kate! What happened?” Wesley fi
nally rounded the corner, saw her lying in a heap, and came running towards her. She caught a glimpse of Jerry disappearing around the edge of the house when Wesley reached her.