by J. A. Howell
My eyes opened again, but this time I felt the cold of the tiled floor against my bare back. I felt someone unzip my pants and slide them down my hips. I tried to lift my head, but it felt too heavy. I looked in their direction but my vision was hazy around the edges and I couldn’t make out any features. My limbs were useless, numbed, and motionless even as I willed them to move. As I lay there, now completely exposed, I knew what would come next. Someone roughly rolled me onto my side.
This was what Brody had tried to show me before. This was the night of his murder. I wanted to fight, but my body was paralyzed. My thoughts were disoriented, as if my mind and my body were trying to separate from each other. My vision tunneled and stretched, my eyes burned from the harsh florescent lighting of the bathroom as I tried to see my assailant.
I was lifted, my head lulled to the side, dangling down, unable to look Brody's killer in the face. His shadow loomed over me as he roughly placed me in the tub, the side of my head thumping against the cold ceramic. A moment later a gush from the faucet broke the silence as tepid water rushed over my feet and quickly covered my legs. My left arm was yanked to the side and I felt a slight pinch followed by a burning sensation again. Within seconds my vision blurred completely. I tried to turn my head, tried to get a look at the figure as he leaned over the tub. I couldn’t force my arms and legs to move, to do anything. The most I could get was a few twitches in my fingers before the water level reached my neck and those hands pushed me down once more.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Mo Chailín Rua: My Red-haired Girl
“Well, good morning.” I shook my head as I passed Nolan's hunched form scarfing down his breakfast. He offered a grunt and continued to stuff his face. “You know, eating your frustration away is not the answer, Nolan.”
“Will you shut up, Agatha?” I cringed at the sound of my full name as he glared over his shoulder at me.
“Speaking of your frustration, where is Harley?” I looked around the kitchen but it was only the two of us. I could have sworn I had seen her name on the schedule.
“I think she quit.” He shrugged as he crammed half a biscuit into his mouth. Without hesitation, I walked over and slapped the other half out of his hand before he could devour it.
“Hey! I was going ta finish that!”
“You mean to tell me you haven’t heard from or seen Harley since the night before last?” I leaned over the table towards him. He shrugged in reply, grabbing for the remaining biscuit on his plate right as I slid it out of reach. “It didn’t cross your mind that something might have happened to her? If I’m ten minutes late you’re usually blowing up my phone or coming knocking on my door to make sure I’m okay.”
“I guess I didn’t,” he paused, “ya know, given the situation.” He narrowed his eyes at me, grabbing for the plate once more as I lifted it off the table.
“Oh, right. The tussle in your office gone awry.” I couldn’t help the teasing tone in which it came out. It only garnered another sharp look in my direction.
“It didn’t just go awry. She just pushed me away and looked at me like I had murdered someone and then fled – not just left, but fled from the pub.” Nolan stood up, attempting unsuccessfully to reach around me for his plate.
“You don’t know what the girl has been through. Maybe it had nothing to do with you,” I gave him a serious look, “so stop acting all wounded and stuffing your face with biscuits.” Nolan finally snatched the plate back and let out an indignant grunt as he settled back at the table with a stubborn look only an Irishman could master.
“I’ll call her in a little bit if she doesn’t show.”
“Seriously, Nolan? You know what, don’t even bother. I’ll just go check on her myself.” I grabbed my bag from the rack before heading for the back door and taking Nolan’s keys from his office. “Hopefully she isn’t dead or something.” I tried to stop the words from slipping out, but it was too late. I didn’t have to turn around to see the blistering stare Nolan shot me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Right, of course ya didn’t.” He grumbled in a biting tone before I slipped out the door.
It took me a few minutes to gather myself before stepping out of the driver’s side of Nolan’s car. For five years I had made every effort to avoid this place, and if I had to go by it, I never looked at it. It always reminded me of that night, finding Brody lying there lifeless and those green eyes staring up at me. With a deep breath, I finally managed to find the door handle and force myself out of the safety of the car.
It’s just a building, Aggie. That’s all, I coaxed myself on towards the front door, doing my best to push away the memories from my last visit. I needed to make sure Harley was okay. After the conversation we had about her past, I couldn’t help worrying about her sudden absence. Still, a dizzying sense of déjà vu rushed over me the moment I stepped foot in the building. I gripped the railing as my legs grew heavier with every step. Why the hell did she have to move into that apartment? After what felt like an eternity, I reached the third floor, and found myself staring at the familiar brass numbers “333.” I balled up a clammy fist and knocked on the door three times. Nobody answered.
Three more raps on the door later, still nothing. Dammit, Harley. I hesitantly reached into my pocket for the key I’d tucked away, just in case. My heart pounded as I pushed it into the lock. Harley, you better not just be on the couch with the flu, otherwise I am going to personally strangle you. Another deep breath and I managed to turn the knob.
The apartment was dark when I entered. The curtains were drawn shut. When I flipped on the living room light, I let out a gasp. The place was a wreck. The mirror hanging on the wall was shattered, a box of DVD’s and CD’s were scattered over the floor along with familiar pictures. I knelt down, picking them up.
“Brody.” His name passed my lips in a whisper as I stared at the familiar face I’d grown up with. It felt like an eternity since I’d seen that face. I held onto one of the photos of Brody and I, slowly standing back up. What had she been doing with these? “Harley? Are you here? It’s Aggie.” I called out, peering into the bathroom. Not in there...thank god. That’s the last thing I need to see. Still, I received no reply. I continued down toward the dim glow of light peering from the open bedroom door. A loud thump echoed from within.
“Harley?” I called out, the sudden thuds startled me, stopping me just outside the bedroom door. Oh god.What now? It took every ounce of courage I had to finally look into the bedroom. “Harley! What are you doing?” I threw myself onto the floor next to her writhing form as her arms and legs thrashed and flailed against the carpet. I gripped her shoulders, pushing her to the floor trying to calm her. Her eyes were wide-open but somewhere else entirely. Her chest heaved as she choked and sputtered.
“Harley! Wake up!” I pled, pinning her down to keep her from shaking. I had no idea what was going on. Was she having a seizure? Had she taken something and overdosed? “It's me, Aggie. Wake up!”
As if a switch were flipped, Harley stopped convulsing. She gasped for air as she blinked up at me in the dim light.
“Aggie?” Her wide blue eyes stared up at me from behind strands of disheveled black hair. I nodded, releasing her shoulders so that she could sit up.
“What happened to you?”
“Those hands. I think I know those hands.” She whispered, more to herself than me, not even acknowledging my question.
“What hands, Harley?” I tried to refocus her attention as her wild gaze looked everywhere except at me.
“The ones that killed Brody! I know those hands!” She looked down, her eyes staring at her own two open palms. “I don't know how, but I know them!” I let go of her, unable to hide the shock that hit me.
“Harley...that's not funny. What are you talking about? Why do you have Brody's things out?” I stood then, backing away from her as she stared down, enraptured with her stupid hands. I looked around the room and took in the overturned nightstan
ds, the lamp that hung on its side barely attached to the socket on the wall. Another shattered mirror hung on the far wall.
“He asked me to help him.” Harley's voice was quiet again, her head still hung forward as she fidgeted with her hands. “He was trying to show me.”
“Show you what? Help him how?” If this was some sort of joke I was having no part of it. My feet continued backwards toward the doorway.
“To help him find his killer!” Her head cocked to the side as she looked toward the dresser. “They killed Brody and now they’re coming for me.” Harley’s wild gaze suddenly shifted to me.
“I don't know why you would do this, Harley, but it's not funny.” I stared at her as she returned her attention to her hands. “I came to check on you. Do you know how hard it was for me to come here?” Tears stung my eyes. I was no longer able to hold back the anger that was boiling to the surface as she continued to ignore me. “How dare you make up stuff about Brody!” With that I turned, haphazardly making my way into the cluttered hall.
“Wait!” Harley yelled after me, but I ignored her. Whatever she had to say, I didn't want to hear it. I was almost to the door when I heard her feet pounding against carpeted floor in the living room. “Wait. Mo chailín rua, wait!”
I froze at her words, my outstretched hand hovering over the doorknob.
“What did you just say?” My words came out shaky and it felt like blood was draining from my face. Had she found something with that written on it?
“Mo chailín rua. Ya remember, don't ya?” Harley's tone had changed. No longer frantic, but calm, soothing, and eerily familiar. “The song my father sang ta my mother. Ya were my red-haired girl. Mo chailín rua.” The room seemed to slip sideways, and I found myself leaning against the wall for support. This can't be happening. I shook my head, my back still to Harley.
“Harley, please stop it. This isn't funny.” I pressed my forehead against the wall as if it would ease the spinning. I felt her move closer and a hand rested on my shoulder, but it didn't feel like Harley at all. She leaned in close, her breath tickling my ear as she quietly sang a song I hadn't heard since that last morning with Brody.
“ Dá mbeinn chomh saibhir is a bhí mé anuraidh
Thógainn toigh mór ar an chnoc údaí thall
Fíon agus ór ‘siad a bhéarfainn do mo stór
Is bheinn a’ gabháil ceoil le mo chailín rua.” [1]
My eyes were brimming with tears as Harley sung the last line. It can't be. This isn't possible. Even as I told myself that, I knew better. Even if Harley had found something that had that song written on it, there was no possible way she could know Gaelic or how to pronounce those words. There was no possible way she knew that tune or the significance it had held to me . . . or Brody.
“Brody?” My voice cracked in my attempt to speak as a couple of tears finally escaped down the side of my cheek.
“Yes, Aggs. It's me.” His words came out in that familiar brogue as his hand squeezed my shoulder tightly and his cheek brushed against mine. I turned then, looking at Harley, but only able to see Brody. The warm lively eyes, that crooked smile that pulled up into his right cheek – that was all Brody.
“How is this even possible?” I asked, a hand tentatively reaching out to his cheek. He gently pressed against my palm, his lips pouting slightly as his eyes closed.
“Shh, just for a moment,” he whispered, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against mine, “I just want ta savor this - you - for just a moment.” He breathed in deeply and pulled me close. I closed my arms around him, soaking in the warmth I'd missed in his absence. We stood there for what felt like an eternity, holding onto each other as if the floor would crumble below our feet. After a few minutes, I opened my eyes to see his lip pulling up once more to the side. “My red-haired girl. If only I'd told ya sooner, I'd never have wound up in this mess ta begin with, would I?”
“Brody, don't.” My chest ached as I remembered our last days together. He'd finally realized what he meant to me, but it came too late. Since the day I'd found him lying there, guilt ate at me every day. If I had just told him sooner he never would have had a chance to fall for Claire. If I hadn't been afraid of his answer, he might still be here with me.
“Aggs, please don't blame yerself. What's done is done, but when I realized it was ya, I just had ta see ya one more time.” He forced another smile as his voice cracked and his hands cupped my face.
“So, it's true then, what Harley said about you?” I finally managed to find my voice as I stared into his eyes.
“Ya have ta know I never would have willingly left this world. Not with ya here.” His thumb brushed a tear from my cheek. “It's also true what else she said, Aggs. Harley’s life is in danger, they're already watching her.”
“Why doesn't she go to the police?”
“They won't be any help, who do ya think did this?” As he spoke, he turned his face to the side, giving me a clear view of the gash and the bruising on Harley's face.
“A cop did that?” I asked, gingerly touching the wound on her cheek.
“I'm pretty sure, but just like my killer, she couldn't see his face.” He shrugged, his hand grasping mine.
“How am I supposed to help her then? What can I do?”
“Keep an eye on her, she really needs a friend right now.” His expression grew serious as he thought. “She's special, she’s the only person I’ve been able ta reach since I died. She’s strong and she’s already been through a lot, but she is going ta go through a whole lot more before this is done.”
“Okay,” I nodded, “but why are they after her?” This whole situation was completely overwhelming.
“I wish I knew for sure. I think Harley has a better idea than me at this point, but I can't say whether she's right.” He sighed. His hand released mine then reached up, brushing my hair behind my ear before he continued. “There is one other thing I need ya ta do as well.” His gaze held mine.
“Anything, Brody.” It was difficult to breath as I stared into those eyes. He looked down, hesitant before he finally spoke.
“I need ya ta tell Harley the whole story. I need ya ta tell her about Nolan.” His eyes held a stern look as he watched me. I drew in a sharp breath, pulling away though it was the last thing I wanted to do.
“I can't do that to him,” I shook my head. “Not after what he went through.” Brody grasped my arm, pulling me back to him.
“She is going ta find out, Aggie. It's only a matter of time. It would be better if it came from ya.” Brody cupped my face once more, forcing me to look at him.
“Then let her find out. I can't bring myself to rat out my best friend like that. He’s been through enough.” My voice strained as I held more tears at bay. I'd promised Nolan I'd keep what happened in the past. After everything that happened because of Claire, to Brody and to Nolan, I couldn't bring myself to let Claire destroy one more thing. If Nolan decided to tell Harley in his own time, that was different, but I couldn't betray him.
“I can't make ya do it, love. But please consider it.” Brody smiled once more and looked away, a sad distant look in his eyes.
“What is it?” A knot swelled in my chest as I watched the sorrowful gleam move over his eyes.
“It's time for me ta go,” he returned his attention to me, “Harley needs her body back.” The knot grew, balling up into my throat at his words. I didn't want him to leave, but I knew he was right.
“Where will you go?” My lip trembled slightly as the question left my lips. I didn't want this to be good-bye.
“Don't fret, mo chailín rua. I'll be around.” He winked, his own smile suppressing the sadness he held at bay. “At least for a little while longer.” He squeezed both my hands in his, then leaned forward, his lips brushing against mine in a gentle kiss. I closed my eyes, savoring it, my lips reaching for his before he pulled away. Then just like that, he was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
A Faraway Look
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��Just lay still.” Aggie’s hand pushed me back down against a soft plushy couch. I couldn’t even recall how I got there. A wave of nausea hit me, forcing my compliance as I laid my head back down. I tried to open my eyes but the light was too harsh.
“Where am I?” I spoke, my voice coming out scratchy and hoarse.
“You’re at my Uncle’s.” Aggie answered. “Just lay still. You’re too weak to be getting up right now.” I felt a sudden pinch in my arm and squinted toward the source. Angus was putting in an IV with surprisingly steady hands.
“Wha-what are you giving me?” I felt panicked as I watched clear liquid flow down the tubing.
“Is juist fluids lass, yir verra dehydrated.” Angus’s voice broke in and I peered up at him.
“Uncle was a medic in the Navy.” Aggie leaned into my line of sight.
“Oh.” I tried to nod but found it only increased the aching throbs in the front of my skull.
“I came to check on you, but you refused to go to the hospital, so I brought you here.” She explained. Was that what happened? I didn’t even remember her coming over.
“Remy?” I went to sit up again and was immediately rewarded with another wave of nausea.
“He’s fine, lass. Got him some haggis in the kitchen. Noo quit worryin’ yerself and lay down sae ah can clean up those cuts on yir pretty little face.” I did as I was told, closing my eyes as he dabbed at the gash on my cheek and ordered Aggie to grab an icepack from the kitchen. “Who did this tae ye, sweetheart?”
I peered up at Angus then to Aggie as she came back into the room. Her eyes caught mine with a strange sadness behind them, but when I gave her a questioning look, she quickly shook her head.
“She was mugged Uncle. I told you that.” She quickly answered as she laid the ice pack against my other cheek.
“Aye, hopefully they didnae get too much from ye. Beat ye bad enough though.” Angus let out a low whistle. “Ye can tell where they hit ye with their gun.” He pointed to marks on my face. Aggie cringed, her eyes shifting down to the floor. She was being uncharacteristically quiet. Something must have happened at the apartment, but what? I remembered the visions Brody had shown me, but nothing about Aggie showing up. I kept watching her, but she refused to look in my direction.
