Alpha Me Not

by Jianne Carlo

  “Yeah. That little Wania just crawls right into your heart when you’re not looking.” Joe picked up the bags.

  “They’ve all got you wrapped.” Susie snuck a peek at him.

  “And don’t they know it. I don’t envy Omar, their father. Three girls. All going to be beauties. His shotgun will never be big enough.” Joe gave an exaggerated shudder.

  “What happens if you have a little girl?” Susie almost fell over when Joe stopped dead in his tracks.

  His tanned complexion ashened, and his earlier glower returned with a vengeance. He opened his mouth, clamped his lips together, focused on the sky for a three-second pause before saying, his words clipped and his tone terse, “Let’s hustle. I need to check on the crew.”

  They walked back to the house in silence, Susie calling herself all kinds of a fool for asking such a stupid question.

  Every third or fourth step, Joe hesitated, scowled at her, and then muttered something under his breath.

  Gray and Tate were lounging on the front porch.

  “What on earth were you thinking, Susie? Taking off without telling Joe? It’s a damned lucky thing Tate and I spotted you sauntering down the sidewalk.”

  “Don’t you start with me, Gray White.”

  “I have everything under control, Gray. Tate, did you check on the crew?”

  “Did I ever.” Tate rolled his eyes. “We’ve a little problem on our hands. Turns out Terri’s house had a basement.”

  “What?” Susie grabbed the banister. She had cleaned Terri’s house from top to bottom. There was no basement.

  “No fricking way.” Joe jostled the packages and opened the door. “I’ve been in that house often. Even slept there a couple of times. There’s no basement.”

  “Put the packages down and come and see for yourself.” Tate led the way to the kitchen, Joe dumped his parcels, and they all filed out the back door.

  Dew still clung heavy to the grass, and Susie’s socks dampened as they tramped across the backyard. A trace of the burned smell still lingered in the air, but a metallic taint had dampened the acridity.

  The construction crew had taken a number of jackhammers to what was left of Terri’s foundation. In one corner a seven-foot-wide hole yawned. The stench coming from the cavity made Susie hold her breath.

  Joe grabbed her by the waist, lifted her off her feet, and set her in the direction they’d come from.

  A tad on the dizzy side, she snapped, “What are you doing?”

  “You don’t want to see this. Gray. Take your sister back to the house. Stay with her.”

  Gray draped an arm around her shoulder. His features were drawn tight, lips thinned, eyes narrowed.

  “I didn’t see anything. What is it?”

  “There was a dungeon in that basement.”

  “A what?” Gray almost had her running, he walked so fast. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure I should tell you. Joe obviously didn’t want you to see anything.”

  She clouted him. “Don’t even go there.”

  He rolled his eyes. “A dungeon used for torture, Susie. When the crew broke through the concrete, they came to get us. Both Tate and I went through the basement. We found fragments of bones. Human bones.”

  She rubbed her arms and scrambled up the steps to the deck.

  Gray held the door open, and she went into the house.

  Susie watched her brother’s long, easy stride as he paced a tight circle and tried to digest the latest news. Bones. Dungeon. Torture.

  “Are you okay, Susie? You’re as white as snow.”

  “I feel like I’m in a nightmare. The fire. Petey. The funeral. Now this.” She massaged her throbbing forehead. “I’m going to lie down for a couple of minutes. I know you want to go back to Tate and Joe. Go. I’ll be fine.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll check the locks before I leave. Want me to help you to the bedroom?”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m shook up, not feebleminded.” She left Gray in the kitchen and made her way slowly to the bedroom. She threw back the covers, took off her sneakers, and crawled on the mattress. The minutes ticked by as she studied the pattern on the ceiling tile.

  The doorbell rang.

  Susie sloughed to her feet and trudged to the living room. She peered through the spy hole but didn’t recognize the features of the person standing on the porch.

  She opened the door. “Yes. Can I help you?”

  “I’m Fay Ward. I live on Birch Crescent.” This was the sprightly eighty-year-old Joe had described. She reminded Susie of Mrs. Claus, with her twinkling blue eyes, a mop of white curls, and apple-dimpled cheeks.

  “Susan White.” She shook the elderly lady’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Ward.”

  “Call me Fay, dear. Is Joe around?”

  “He’s in the back at the moment. Shall I get him for you?”

  “Please, dear.”

  “Come on in, Fay. Why don’t you have a seat while I get Joe?” Susie gestured to the sofa.

  “Thank you, dear.” Fay’s flowery muumuu swirled around plump calves as she ambled to the couch.

  A whiff of her powdery perfume tickled Susie’s nostrils, and she knuckled the side of her nose to prevent a sneeze. “I’ll be right back.”

  With that she whipped around and marched to the kitchen. Before Susie reached the doorway, she saw Joe, Tate, and Gray gathered in a circle to the right of the table.

  “There you are. Gray said you weren’t feeling well?” Joe came straight to her.

  “I’m better. Just needed a moment. Fay Ward is here to see you. She’s in the living room.”

  “Fay?” Joe frowned. “I’ll go see what she wants.”

  Tate and Gray sauntered past the stove just as Susie entered the kitchen. She plodded to the table.

  “Lye. That’s why. Industrial-strength lye. The whole basement had been flooded with it.” Tate went straight to the fridge.

  “Lye?” Susie collapsed onto a chair.

  “Someone had punched a hole in the basement and emptied a few hundred gallons of industrial-strength lye into it before sealing it closed. Probably in an attempt to cover up the whole thing.” Tate peered at her. “Where’s Joe gone? You look like crap.”

  “Thanks a whole lot.” Susie shivered. “Fay Ward wanted to speak with Joe. She’s in the living room.”

  “Ivan’s probably gone on a bender again.”

  “Who’s Ivan?” Gray crossed one ankle over the other and leaned a hip on the counter.

  “Fay Ward’s son. He’s schizoid and every so often goes off his meds. Goes wandering in the preserve.” Tate grabbed a glass and eyed the packages from the store. “Any chance of juice in there? Joe never has anything other than that damned protein powder.”

  “Yes, I bought juice and milk.” She thumbed her aching temples. “I’m going to lie down for a bit.”

  “I’ll walk with you. You really are very pale, sis.” Gray hooked his elbow through hers and pulled her up.

  A dull roaring started in her ears. The room spun. A draft of sheer ice sprouted goose bumps all over her flesh.

  Dirt and grime covered the boy’s face.

  He stared at her. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose. Dried blood crusted one nostril. He lay in a ditch. On top of another boy. His chest rose and fell. A tear leaked out of one eye.

  Her tongue lay flat and heavy in her mouth.

  “Susie. What the hell’s happening?” Gray’s voice came from far away.

  She staggered and squirmed out of Gray’s hold. Put up a hand to block the blinding light streaking through the window. Grabbed a chair, squeezed the back, and fought the bitterness racing up her gullet.

  “Susie.” Joe swept her into his arms. “You’re seeing him again, aren’t you? You have that flint in your scent again. Can you talk? Can you see?”

  She buried her face in his shirt and shook her head, the movement weak, and her neck quivered like
jelly.

  “It’s okay. I have you. Breathe with me. In. Out. That’s it. Tate, pour her a glass of water.” Joe sat on the bench and set her sideways on his lap. He took the glass from Tate and brought it to her lips. “Drink. Tiny sips.”

  “Is this what happened before?” Gray came into her range of vision. He squatted next to her and squeezed her hand.

  “Yeah. But this was much shorter. Better now?” Joe tightened the arm holding her waist.

  She risked slitting her lids open. The sunlight didn’t stab at her pupils.

  “Another sip.”

  The cold water tasted like manna after the vile bitterness of her saliva. Greedy, parched, she clamped her shaking fingers on the glass and gulped down every drop.

  Joe wrested the tumbler from her fervent grip. He nudged her chin. “Look at me.”

  “I’m good.” She attempted a smile, but her trembling lips couldn’t quite curve, and met his gaze. “He’s alive. In a ditch. There’s another boy under him. I think… He can’t move.”

  “Is this Eric from the bus stop?” Tate pulled up a chair.

  “Yes. The same one. I could only see the leg of the other boy, the one under him. He had on shoes with cleats.”

  “Could you see anything else? Was there water in the ditch?”

  She shuttered her eyes and let the images play. “It’s steep like where we ran that night. By where we saw the slimy thing. But different. There’s no path. Just woods. I think it might be closer to the ravine where I ran that first time by myself.”

  “The ravine again.” Gray shook his head.

  “What did Fay want?” Tate set his glass down in the sink.

  “Ivan’s off his meds again. He vanished sometime last night. I promised Fay we’d find him.” Joe dragged a hand through his hair.

  “Is this Ivan violent?” Gray asked.

  “He’s a cutter. When he goes off his meds, he cuts himself. He leaves so he won’t upset Fay.” Joe took her chilled hands between his and rubbed.

  “Sounds as if you two know this Ivan well.” Gray glanced from Joe to Tate. “Am I missing something?”

  “Ivan had a ton of trouble in school. He was bullied.”

  Tate snorted. “Bullied. Try tortured. Humiliated. Joe, Kieran, and I put an end to it. But Ivan was too far gone by then.”

  “Who bullied him? And how long ago was this? How old is he? And what do you mean too far gone?” Gray lurched to his feet as he issued the barrage of questions.

  “Ivan’s twenty-three. The bullying happened when Ivan was in middle school. We were in high school at the time and didn’t cotton onto it until his last year.” Tate’s slate eyes had taken on a golden hue.

  “Ivan was severely traumatized and never recovered. We never did figure out who was the ringleader in the bullying or what exactly happened, but we scared the bejesus out of the five kids who participated.”

  Tate snorted. “Not enough for them to finger the asshole who started it all. Ivan gets hysterical when questioned about the past. You saw Fay, how tiny she is. Ivan tops seven feet, and he’s around two ninety. But he was scrawny in middle school.”

  She gasped. “That little Mrs. Claus has a son that huge?”

  “Yeah. Tate and I are going to head out right away. I’m going after Ivan, and Tate will head to the ravine to see if he can find Eric. Gray, you pull the short stick on this one.” He planted a wet kiss on her mouth, shifted her to the side, and stood. “I don’t want Susie out of your presence. Not for a second. She might be your sister, but she’s my mate.”

  No way could she stay here and wait. She had to keep busy. Had to keep her mind occupied. Had to stop playing all the what-if scenarios in her head. What if she couldn’t help find Eric? What if it was because she fought the visions, no matter how hard she tried not to?

  “Susie?” Joe’s forefinger grazed her shoulder blade. “You with us?”

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Find Eric. Find Ivan.” Alive, but she couldn’t get the word past her fried vocal cords. “I have stuff to do anyway.”

  “What kind of stuff and where? I don’t want you out of Gray’s presence for a second.”

  Joe’s nostrils thinned and flared, a certain sign of his rising irritation.

  “For heaven’s sake, is he supposed to accompany me to the bathroom too?”

  “Actually it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to leave the door open, sis.”

  Joe leaned a shoulder on the wall, and the two men did an alpha-stare posturing that made Susie snort. “Not going to happen. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. I have to see Dr. Surgue. Gray can run me to the university while you two are gone.”

  “Don’t let her out of your sight.” He bussed her again. “The university and back. That’s it.”

  “Will you call if you find something?” She caught his hand.

  “Promise.”

  Tate and Joe were out of the house in no time at all.

  “Who’s this Dr. Surgue you want to see?” Gray picked up the keys to his car.

  “I’m doing a thesis, and hopefully, he’s going to be the chairman of my committee.” Susie picked up her purse, remembered the folders that she’d graded, and retrieved them from the pink bedroom.

  “All set?” Gray asked. “I put up the groceries. You haven’t eaten this morning. Want to grab a bite on the way in?”

  Susie skipped to keep up with Gray’s long strides. “I’m meeting Dr. Surgue in the cafeteria. The food there’s actually pretty good.”

  Gray shut the door after them and rattled the lock. They walked to his rented car.

  “What happened to the construction crew?”

  “Joe paid them off.”

  “Gray, exactly what was in the basement?”

  He opened the passenger door for her and glanced down. “Sure you want to go there, sis?”

  “I think I need to know. Joe’s tiptoeing around me. Tell me what you found.”

  He nodded, went around the car, and got in. After snapping his seat belt together, he started the car and said, “Whoever built that basement built it as a prison. There were six barred cages about the size you would use for a medium-size dog.”

  A dozen lizards crawled up her spine. “Or a young boy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You haven’t told me everything. What else did you find?”

  “Bits and pieces of what looked like videotapes. Lye had been dumped on them too. I don’t think the authorities will get anything from them. My guess is that this sicko abducted kids, kept them for a while, and then killed them.”

  And taped what he did to them. Susie choked back the rising nausea. “Who owned the house before Terri?”

  “Tate checked the records this morning. This whole strip was owned and developed by one Mr. Carmine Arnold.”

  Surprise had her gasping. “He’s Gemma’s father. Has Alzheimer’s.”

  “He’s out as a suspect then. Too bad. Arnold sold the house to a company who rented it out. The company liquidated a few years back, and a Mrs. Wilson purchased it. Terri bought it from her.” Gray turned onto I-10. “Problem is that the basement could’ve been converted any time over the last four decades.”

  “Four decades? Why four decades?” She massaged the aching muscles spanning the bridge of her shoulder and neck.

  “The house was built in the 60s.”

  “Oh. Surely this can’t have been happening for that long. Someone would’ve noticed all these kids going missing?”

  “You’d think. The stuff in the cave has me wondering if this guy wasn’t operating between the two states. Half of Hallelujah Mountain is in Florida and half in Alabama.”

  The whole Ritchie Henderson kidnapping and Joe’s conviction crowded her brain. “Where’s Joe’s cabin?”

  “Haven’t you been there?” Gray pulled into the parking lot.

  “No.”

  “It’s about an hour out of town right on the state border in the opposite direction of Hallelujah M
ountain.”

  After unsnapping her seat belt, Susie gathered her folder and purse and hopped out of the car. Gray made no move to get out. She lifted a brow.

  “While you meet with your professor, I’m going to tank up. Promise me you won’t leave the building.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.”

  When Gray fixed her with a hard stare, she expelled an audible breath. “Fine. I promise. Where do you want to meet?”

  “In the cafeteria. I don’t want you outside without me, not even for a second.”

  She sighed. “I’ll call you if I’m done earlier.”

  * * * *

  Dr. Surgue was sitting at the same table as Vance Ellison. Great.

  “Susan.” Dr. Surgue extended a hand. “I believe you know Coach Ellison.”

  “I do.”

  “Sit. I took the liberty of sharing your thesis topic with Coach Ellison, and he’s agreed to be the sports advisor for the committee. I, of course, am more than happy to chair your committee. How many participants have you signed?”

  Susie sat opposite the two men. “I have all that I need signed up. As I indicated, I plan to focus on two groups—boys and girls aged six to nine, and men and women over thirty. The adults of both sexes are volunteers from the general population of Hallie. I’m working with the Girl Scouts for the younger females, and one of Coach Ellison’s assistants was kind enough to point me to the Sloan Foundation for the younger male participants.”

  Coach Ellison’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Really? Who are you working with?”

  “Assistant Coach Bristow. He was very helpful.”

  The rest of the meeting went smoothly. Dr. Surgue suggested adding Drs. Eileen Vinters and Randy Berger as the final choices for the thesis committee and agreed to speak to both on Susie’s behalf. Coach Ellison invited her to the function at Chez Pierre the following night, and she felt compelled to accept.

  The two men left, and she grabbed a sandwich and settled down in a chair next to the windows to watch for Gray’s arrival. She opened the folder and took out a term paper but, after reading the same paragraph three times, gave up. Sitting back, she stretched her legs and glanced to the entrance when the pop-pop of the cafeteria’s automatic doors reached her ears.

  She choked back a curse as a couple halted in the small foyer.