by Aysia Amery
“Remind me to enroll you in a ‘Power of Positive Thinking’ seminar.”
“I’m just sayin’.”
I sighed. “I know. And I don’t blame you. We’re in a predicament here, but we’re stuck, and we’ve gotta figure out how to get out of it alive. Negative thoughts will only depress us more. You’re making me edgy by giving reasons we won’t make it out of here.”
“I’m sorry. You know I don’t handle stress well.” Jemma’s eyes teared up.
I put my arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, Jemma.” I squeezed her tightly. “Please keep the faith. We will make it out.”
God, I hoped I was right.
* * *
An hour had gone by since Evan and Chris took the SUV and went for help. The sky had no signs of patching its leak anytime soon.
“Jemma, will you go to the library with me? I need a book to read. I’m getting bored sitting by this window, staring at the rain.”
My face had been glued to the blurred pane that was splattered and dripping with the unlimited rainfall. Rescue might not come for hours, if it came at all.
“Sure.”
The library room door has been unlocked ever since we told everyone about it. The murderer didn’t seem to care now that all had seen the figurines.
As I headed straight to the bookshelf, Jemma let out a squeal as though a mouse scampered by.
“What’s wrong?” I turned to look at her.
She pointed to the table.
My eyes followed her aim.
“How many Menehunes should there be here?” she asked.
Sam, Floyd, and Owen made...
“There should be six,” I replied while my eyes counted...one, two, three, four...oh my god!—there were only FIVE Menehunes!
We sprinted out of the library, turning a corner, then another corner, until we came to a skidding halt into the living room. Jenn and David had been conversing on the sofa but now stared at us after our abrupt entry.
“Where’s the others?” I said as my breath huffed out of me.
They stood to their feet at our panic. By their blank stares, I knew they hadn’t a clue where the others were.
“What’s the matter?” David asked, but I didn’t have time to explain.
“Kat! Heidi! Nadine!” I called out, yodeling at the top of my lungs. But the rain, which beat down upon the rooftop with the sound of firecrackers, outdid me.
“We need to find them, but stay together,” I told David and Jenn.
“Nadine mentioned she had a headache. Last I saw her she had gone to the kitchen.”
“Go find her. We’ll look for the others.”
Without questioning me for details, the pair headed toward the kitchen while Jemma and I took the west-side porch. The wind and rain hailed from the opposite direction, so that porch stayed dry. If they weren’t inside the ranch house, they’d probably be there.
And I was right. Kat and Heidi sat at the far end of the porch having a chat. Heidi saw us first. Then Kat turned. By the time we reached them they were on their feet. My expression, plus the fact that we’d been running, must’ve red-flagged them.
“What is it?” Kat asked.
“Have you seen Nadine?” I said in puffs. Not only did my sprints draw my breaths, but fright sucked the wind out of me too.
Heidi shook her head while Kat said, “Isn’t she in the living room with David and Jenn?”
“No, she’s not with them.”
David and Jenn now joined us. No Nadine. Crap!
“Two new Menehune pieces are missing,” I told them all. “Owen’s one, and also somebody else’s.”
“Oh my god!” Jenn gasped.
“Why would she go off alone?” Jemma wasn’t the only one wondering that.
“That’s our fault.” David wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “The three of us were talking and then she said she’d be right back.”
“I thought she was just going to get an aspirin.” Jenn’s eyes welled with tears. “I should’ve gone with her.”
“It’s not your fault,” I told her. That didn’t make her feel any better though.
“We need to look for her. But we have to stay in pairs,” I told the group. “Did you check upstairs?” I asked David and Jenn.
“No, after we checked the kitchen and the dining area, we came out to the porch to look for you folks,” David replied. “Nadine would’ve had to pass by us to go upstairs, so we figured that wasn’t where she’d be.”
“You guys should check upstairs just to be sure, and inside the rest of the house. Jemma and I will scout out the produce carport and that outside area around there.” I turned to Kat and Heidi. “You two should check the stables and the area out on that side.”
Not sure why I was playing commander at that moment, but the words just poured out of me. Hope I didn’t sound too bossy. Gawd, that’s hardly a thing I should be worrying about right now.
So Jemma and I scavenged the carport, searching under the tables, behind boxes, even in the trash can. I suddenly felt awful, realizing that I’d been seeking out a body, a dead one, not Nadine, the living reporter person.
For all we knew, the missing Menehune could be either Evan or Chris. But why didn’t I believe it was either of them?
“She’s not here,” Jemma said.
I nodded. “C’mon.” I beckoned with my hand, and on my cue we headed out from the comfort of the dry carport into the pummeling rain.
My hair plastered my face as the coursing raindrops smacked us. Windshield wipers for my eyes would’ve helped right now. Our path ahead seemed a blur.
Jemma hung onto my arm as though afraid the gusty winds would blow her away. I found that amusing since she was heavier than me, so most likely she’d be the one anchoring us down.
We trudged ahead about twenty steps when something caught my eye. I squinted, then proceeded toward it. Water dribbled down over my mouth as I held my breath. The object was clearer now.
Oh my god—it was a brick.
Jemma saw it too. Her grip tightened on my arm, cutting off my circulation.
Bile rose in my throat. I was gonna be sick.
I did a half-turn and leaned my back against the wall. I said to Jemma, “Is that hair?”
A tarp the size of a comforter covered something under it. Red tinted a puddle diluted by the rainwater, while raindrops splattered it as it pooled around the mass of strands.
Even through the cloud’s showering tears I could see Jemma’s eyes well.
And then I lost my lunch.
Chapter 9
When I recovered from my bout of nausea, and while Heidi attended to Nadine’s body after they moved her to where the corpses were stacking up, I summoned Nadine’s ghost. Jemma, once again, held lookout.
“So you didn’t see who struck you?” I asked.
I had already told Nadine’s ghost about playing charades with me to feed me her answers, so I believe she was about to do just that.
She fisted her hand and pulled her arm behind her head, then made a striking motion.
“They struck you from behind.”
Yes.
“Why’d you go outside?”
Her feet moved as though marching while her arms swung to and fro.
“You’re walking.”
A nod.
“You’re opening a door?”
No.
Hmm. She sure looked like she opened a door.
Oh wait. She didn’t turn a knob. Also, I remembered Jenn saying that Nadine had gone into the kitchen.
“You opened the fridge.”
Affirmative.
“You’re turning around swiftly. Did somebody come into the kitchen?”
She shook her head and did the motion again.
“Something caught your eye behind you?”
Her face lit up, and she nodded twice.
“You’re walking again. Now you’re opening a door.” This time she turned a doorknob.
She closed it
behind her.
“You went outside?”
Yes.
“So something caught your eye, and you went to see what it was?”
She frowned and nodded.
I didn’t say it aloud, but man, that was foolish. She knew a murderer was about, so why would she investigate something suspicious by herself?
With her next motion, she held her arms to her side, but slightly out and fisted.
I crinkled my forehead. I had no idea what she was trying to convey.
Then she flexed her muscles.
“Strong?”
She waved her hand inward, beckoning me to continue.
“Muscular?”
She shook her head. Her arms went up on both sides, flexing her muscles.
It’s not strong or muscular, so what the heck is it?
“Marine?!” I yelled out. Maybe she was describing Chris. But he was on route with Evan, so that couldn’t be it. Unless he was the murderer and got rid of Evan and came back to kill Nadine.
She shook her head.
Okay, scrap that. In a way, I was glad it wasn’t Chris.
Just then, I heard the rumble of a car. I turned to look at Jemma. She heard it too.
It had only been about two hours since Evan and Chris left, so could they have brought rescue back so soon?
“We’ll be right back, Nadine,” I told her ghost.
Jemma and I rushed out to the front of the ranch house. By the time we got there, we saw Evan’s backside entering the front door. We dashed up the porch steps, and I nearly slipped.
“Be careful,” Jemma warned.
I slowed down my steps on the last step, then entered the house. Jemma followed behind me. Water dripped from us everywhere.
Everyone was gathered in the living room.
“What happened?” Jenn asked Evan.
All eyes fixated on him.
“We got stuck just out by the river, so Chris tried to push the Cherokee while I hit the gas. Just as I lunged forward, he must’ve slipped and hit his head. I tried to help him, but he got swept away.”
Was that an accident or was it part of a plan?
‘Six Menehunes went for a dive
One over-strived and then there were five.’
If it were an accident, the murderer was damn lucky to have nature assist in their scheme.
“I had to turn back. I barely got here in one piece. It’s too hairy out there.”
Kat told Evan about Nadine. He seemed genuinely saddened by the tragic news.
Jemma and I went back to continue my chat with Nadine’s ghost, but she never reappeared.
On our way back to our room to get dried off, I said, “Jemma, we should check if another Menehune is missing. Something sounds suspicious about Evan’s story.”
“You think Evan might be the killer?”
“I don’t know, but it seems too coincidental that Chris drowned like the poem read, just after Nadine’s death.”
“But that’s pretty risky to outright implicate himself like that.”
Hmm, she had a point. The murderer wouldn’t want to draw attention to him or herself. Unless, of course, they didn’t expect anybody to be left alive to turn them in.
Okay, I gotta stop thinking negative thoughts like Jemma.
“Plus, who killed Nadine then? Do you think there are two killers in cahoots?” There went her popping eyes again.
It had occurred to me. Could the sister and brother be doing this together? At first I thought maybe only the sister, but...
Is Evan Kat’s brother?
I had brought this up before and ruled that out because they didn’t look anything like each other. But again, you never can tell.
I dunno, though. I’ve caught glimpses of the two when they thought no one was looking, and they seemed a bit too cozy sometimes to be siblings.
When we got to the library, Jemma beat me to the table. No other piece was missing from the last time we looked.
Hmm. Maybe Chris’ death was an accident after all and the murderer hadn’t yet taken the piece off the board.
How were they even getting in here without us seeing them? They’d have to come through this hallway. Could they be watching us? Doing it when they knew we were elsewhere?
So far, everyone’s been with somebody else since we started this buddy system. Only Evan hasn’t been accounted for after he left with Chris. We don’t know when Chris died, so if he’s been hiding out somewhere prior to Nadine’s death, waiting for the right time, then—
“Ginger!” Jemma yelled.
“Geez! You scared the living—”
“Look out the window.” She pointed at the stables.
“What?” And then I saw him. “Oh my god. Who the hell is that?”
“I don’t know, but we’d better go tell the others.”
By the time we got to the living room, Kat had just opened the front door. The man we sighted outside a moment ago stood in the doorway.
For some reason, my mind flashed with every slasher movie I’d ever seen where frolicking teenagers met their gruesome deaths except the last hero/heroine left. I’m so glad I quit watching those deranged movies. Now if I could only get amnesia to erase these past ones from my memory.
“Can I hole up here until the storm subsides?” he asked. The stranger wore raingear, so he must’ve been prepared. Was he a hiker? The one staying in the shack as Kat had mentioned?
“Come in,” Kat told him.
With all the murders that had taken place, I was surprised to see her so welcoming and without so much as reaching for a pitchfork first. I’d feel a lot safer after I knew what was under his raingear. If he pulled out an axe and started hacking away—
Okay, stop it, Ginger!
Dammit. Jemma was as contagious as the measles.
As he removed his raingear, Jenn spoke.
“Where did you come from?”
“I’d been hiking the area and got trapped in this storm.”
I’d guessed this guy’s age to be either late twenties or early thirties.
“What’s your name?” Heidi asked.
“Mark.”
“I’m Heidi.”
We all ended up introducing ourselves to him. He seemed harmless enough. He might end up a wrench in the murderer’s plans though. But then again, Jemma and I shouldn’t be in there either. Why were we even invited? I pray the parents of the two kids didn’t get sick or something at a gig we’d done. Could we also be targets?
My stomach felt queasy again.
“Have you seen a woman with short brown hair, in her late forties to early fifties?” I asked.
He squinted, then shook his head. “No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?”
“We’ve been looking for her.”
“Is she lost in the storm?”
Kat brought him a cup of coffee.
“Thanks.” He smiled as he took the mug from her. His two hands caressed the cup as though it were a warm body.
“We don’t know where she is, but we hope she’s been given shelter by someone living in the valley.”
“I appreciate you folks letting me in. It’s been crazy out there.”
Now I felt bad that I wanted to scrutinize this man before letting him through the door. But we were in a very different predicament than any of the residents who didn’t have a murderer to worry about.
“You can stay upstairs in the guests’ quarters. Evan will prepare your room and let you know when it’s ready for you,” Kat said.
“Thanks.”
Mark could partner with Heidi now. With Evan back, he’d be partnering with Kat.
“We’d better get dinner prepped, Jemma.”
As Jemma and I exited the room, my only thought was...
God, I hope we all make it to the morning.
Chapter 10
My eyes popped open. Whew. Thank god, I made it through the night. I looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was a little after six.
A sound discharged
from Jemma. Oh my, a bit of gas made its escape. Like horse, like rider, I guess. Thunderballs must’ve rubbed off on her.
It normally would’ve given me a chuckle; instead I sighed with relief. Unless her cadaver ripped one involuntarily, it was safe to say my friend and assistant made it to the morning too.
No Menehunes with our names on them should be missing at least.
With my bliss at still being able to smell a stinky fart, my mood turned over swiftly when I thought about Blaine. He must be climbing the walls with worry about the both of us. I’d be worried sick about him if our situations were reversed. I had no way to contact him to let him know we’ve been delayed due to the storm. Who knew how long we’d be stuck out here.
Please, please let this weather clear up.
I swung my legs off the bed and padded to the bathroom. I marveled at how soundly I slept again. I swear, it must be the water. If I make it through this, I might have to find out how to bottle it and sell it as a sleep aid. Beats melatonin by a mile, and then some.
When Jemma finally got up and we were ready to do more sleuthing, the first place we headed for was the library room. My curiosity needed to know if someone bit the dust last night. I prayed that didn’t happen, but with things going the way they had been, what were the odds?
“Ginger.” There was that voice of doom again. Jemma had reached the table before me.
“Please don’t tell me.”
She didn’t have to. I saw it in her eyes.
We ran past the kitchen and through the living room. Nobody seemed up and about yet. We hurried upstairs to the guests’ bedrooms. Everyone’s doors were still closed.
I didn’t care that we’d look like maniacs—we needed to know who’d been killed. We pounded on the doors.
Locks unclicked and knobs rattled.
Doors swung open with grumbles at whoever made all this racket.
One door never opened though.
Jenn’s.
* * *
A boar’s tusk did Jenn in as she slept. Where that tusk came from, only the killer knew. There weren’t any animal trophy heads on the walls of this ranch house that I saw. But that tusk had to come from somewhere.
Could that stranger, Mark, have hidden the boar’s tusk in his raingear? Or maybe he left a backpack outside and retrieved the murder weapon as we slept.
