Trish clears her throat. “Eli, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Who is it?” I ask, heading toward her.
“Mr. Preston.” As she says his name Preston appears in the doorway.
“Hey Eli.” He has a sad smile on his face.
“Todd.” I motion for him to come out. “What’s going on?”
McNab and Carl quietly follow Trish back into the house.
“Eli, I just wanted to stop by and see how things were going. I’ve not been able to get ahold of Harry or you.” He’s unable to make eye contact with me.
“We don’t have any news on Shay.” I get to the point. I’m a little irritated with him how things have played out. “What’s really going on? I seriously doubt you’re making a house call out of concern.”
“Do you really think I don’t care what happens?” He’s hurt.
“Do you?” He’s not my boss anymore. There was a time when I had a lot of respect for him, wanted to follow in his footsteps and be just like him. That's until he lost his backbone and isn't even helping to find her. He's treating her like a fugitive, like a criminal. I’ve lost respect for him, and honestly, if I ever become that much of a cog in the machine, someone kill me.
“Of course I do, Eli, I’ve been friends with Harry Baynes for years. I drove him to the hospital when Katherine went into labor with the twins. I loved those girls. I'm Shay's godfather for Christ's sake” He trails off and looks past me.
“Then stop letting Glass go after her. He isn’t exploring any other leads, how can he get the real killer if he’s focused on her? I also know that her disappearance isn’t being treated seriously. I don’t like his implications that she’s just skipped town. We both know that’s not the case.” I take a breath from my tirade.
“Wow, you’ve grown some real balls, or did they come with your new partnership at Roth, Carmichael, Eddins, and Brunner?” His tone bites when I hear the words laced with disappointment. “Oh, and Walker.”
“Todd, you can’t judge me for my decisions. Besides, I was about to lose my job.” I stand and walk to the edge of the deck and lean on the railing.
“You don’t know that. I was going to protect you, Eli.” He joins me at the railing. “I just had to follow the rules, since you weren’t heeding any of the warnings. You were reckless and I had to pull you back.”
“It doesn’t matter now.” I blow out a remorseful breath. “Has Glass heard anything about Shay?”
“No, but I did want to tell you that your name came up today.” He looks at me with an eyebrow raised.
“Really?”
“Yes, Glass is coming after you for the Ringgold murder.” He just says it plain and simple.
“Of course he is.” I run my fingers through my hair. This should concern me more than it does. “I’m not worried, I didn’t do it and I know that the evidence shows I didn’t. Not to mention I seriously doubt they can place me here in town during the T.O.D. window.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were ready and that you let your new partners know that you may have some complications.” His meaning is layered.
“That sounds a lot deeper than one trumped up murder charge,” I challenge.
“It is what it is.” He looks straight ahead out into the yard.
“Let me show you out.” It’s time for him to go; I don’t have time to play this game of hidden meaning.
“I know the way.” When he reaches the back door he stops and says, “Please have Harry call me.”
“Harry’s a big boy and can answer his phone if he chooses.”
My eyes close with the weight of everything coming down on me. I’m only concerned about finding Shay and bringing her home. Hearing Carl talk about her is tearing me up. The thought of her in pain and scared rips through me like a cold wind.
I have to find her. I have to bring her home and I can’t be concerned about Miranda, Preston or Glass. I only need to worry about Shay.
Chapter Four
Murder, Not Mind Games
Bailey
“This is not what we discussed. This isn’t the way it was supposed to be.” The Specter's voice carries in my mind, but not like it used to. I'm stronger than him, he can't control me like he before. It would seem as though I'm the one in control as the power surges through me. He needs me to kill to feed him.
“It doesn’t matter, I’ve taken her for my own,” I answer out loud.
“No.” The Specter's voice roars through my mind, reverberating from one ear to the other. “She is mine, but I was willing to share her for a time in return for your help. But this isn’t how things are supposed to go. When I said we needed to eliminate Detective Glass I meant murder, not mind games. How is she supposed to trust us? She knows it’s you.”
“No, she doesn’t,” I defend. “Besides, you aren’t seeing the big picture. I’m going to rescue her and put Glass behind bars and he will never be a problem again.”
“Bailey, I chose you because you were a clean slate. You and I could have been great together. We could have been with her and been happy.” The Specter’s voice sounds more abrasive the angrier he gets.
“I’m planning on going over there tonight and 'rescuing' her. I’m going to bring her home and she’s going to be with me,” I proclaim, bursting with pride at my master plan.
“You really think this is going to work? You think that now you’re going to be able to replace two lifelong loves? You are a fool.” The Specter manifests in front of me and spirals around me, leaving a trail of black fog behind him. His anger runs away with him and I can see it flaring in the deep, black core of him.
“It will work and I will have her. You are just jealous because she’ll be mine and I did it without you.” I goad him into silence.
After awaiting a response that never comes, I call out to him. He never answers. Eventually I go back to sketching Shay and I entangled in an embrace.
Chapter Five
Last Call in Heaven
Shay
He’s been gone for a long time. My brain is still trying to process the fact that Glass did this to me. I know he hates me and wanted to arrest me, but I never thought he was capable of something like this. My mind wanders off to even darker territory. Am I the first one? Has he done this before? Will he do it again? I have to stop him.
The zip ties have cut into my wrists and ankles deeper than the rope ever had. I’m so sore from struggling to get out of them. There’s little comfort that I’ve been able to see the day come and go. Now through the small window I’m able to see the sky changing to a mixture of orange and brilliant reds as the sun begins its departure, making way for the darkness.
Dust dances in the beams of light streaming through the small window. The light is a double-edged sword, allowing me to see night, day and what's around me. I can also see what's above me—chunks of meat dangling from the ceiling like a gory mobile of flesh.
There's no sign of an intact body of my short-lived companion. I can’t decide if that's a good or bad thing. At least I don’t have to constantly stare at his lifeless body and know the face of the man who I heard take his last breath.
My imagination runs wild trying to put a face to the terrified screams like you would a radio announcer. His screams still resonate in my memory like a haunted choir of bells. It’s probably his flesh hanging there, so I guess it isn’t much different than having his body here. Giving it more thought, I think seeing his body would be worse. Wouldn't that make him more human? More real? Imagine going into the grocery store and seeing the hollowed-out carcass of a cow when you’re buying that pound of hamburger. I think I just became a vegetarian.
Carl hasn’t come back for some time. The loneliness is magnified now that he’s been with me. It concerns me that he hasn’t been back, and I wonder if something happened or what could possibly be keeping him from coming back.
I rotate my head to relieve the strain of sitting in the same position for hours on end. My neck bends forwa
rd to stretch my spine and something glints off the light streaming into the room. The box cutter that Glass had, he must have dropped it.
Hope surges through me at the prospect of being able to free myself. I've hit the jackpot, and I think my guardian angel has finally sobered up and is giving me fighting chance. Now I just have to figure out how I’m going to get the cutter. This is going to require me to tip the chair over, scoot over there, get it and cut the ties on my wrists. I’m weak, but I know I can do it, I have to.
Wiggling the chair, I scoot it over closer to the razor, trying to angle myself so that when the chair falls over, the knife will be near my hands. I hop three times, scooting over, and then lean my weight to the right to bring the chair crashing down. I land on the knife and there’s a sharp pain in my side. I can’t tell whether the pain is from the knife or the fall. With as much energy as I have to expel, I bounce forward, lining my hands up with the knife. I scoop down several times with it just in reach of my fingertips. Over and over I grab for it, but it slips further out of my grasp. Finally, long after the sun has gone down, I’m able to wrap my fingers around the blade. The sharp edge cuts through my fingers, bringing pain that I ignore.
The plastic is so rigid it takes a long time to saw through and I make several cuts on my wrists in the process. I doubt I’ve done more than just a series of shallow cuts, but they sting like a bitch from my sweating. I’m rewarded when I hear the snapping of that last bit of plastic that was hanging on. There's relief in knowing I'll be able to sit up and stop breathing in the grass clippings and dirt on the floor.
There are some pretty deep cuts on my hands and wrists, but I think I’m going to make it. I make quick work of the ties on my ankles and run for the door with the knife still clasped tightly in my hand.
First I listen at the door for any noise on the other side. There’s nothing but the sound of crickets. Peeking out the crack between the door and wall reveals a house. There are no lights on or any movement.
Even though there’s a chill with the disappearance of the sun, sweat is dripping down my brow into my eyes. I wipe it away, and even in the darkness I can tell that I’m bleeding from my wrist and the blood is running down my hand.
Satisfied that it's as safe as it's going to get, I pull on the door handle. It doesn’t move. Shit. It must be locked from the outside. Peering through the crack again I see there’s a clasp that I’m assuming is locked. I look at the window, trying to estimate if I can get out of it. That’s big enough for me to fit through, I just have to get up there. I drag the chair over to the window and pry it open. I try to pull myself up and out, but I don’t have the strength. Think, Shay.
The moon offers a dim gray hue, which isn’t much through the small window. I’m able to see some wood and a few boxes. Depending on how heavy they are I might be able to bring them over and stack them on the workbench just below the window.
The first box I try is too heavy. With all my strength I push it over, revealing an automotive ramp. Yes! Something metal clanks on the floor, a machete. I look up toward the heavens—thank God for last call in Heaven. About time that bitch quit drinking.
The ramp is made of plastic. It’s still heavy, but I can lift it. I put it under the window on the bench, retrieve the machete and climb up on the chair, to the bench. I throw the machete out the window away from the shed and climb out after it, landing hard in the bushes. The thud feels so loud and shocks my body. After grabbing the machete I stay on the ground until the pain subsides a little.
I slink around the shed, thinking how happy I am that I was wearing black so I’ll be hard to spot. I’m assuming that is Glass’ house and there’s no safety there. Terror shoots through me at knowing that I have to get away from here, as far and as fast as I can. I run for the tree line like the devil himself is chasing me. I push through the pain, cutting the vines of jasmine and brambles to make my way as fast as I can. I’m not sure how far I’ve gone, but I haven’t seen another house since I left Glass’. My energy is waning fast. I know I need to rest, but the fear of getting caught moves me forward. Without any idea of where I’m going I try to keep my eye on the moon. I know in the spring it rises in the east and sets in the west. I’ve been going away from the moon until it was right above me and now I will travel toward it. That’s how I know I will be traveling away from Glass’ house. I do hope I run into some sort of civilization soon.
As much as I still wish I were running faster my pace is slower the more tired I get. Now I’m using the machete to lean on for support. It’s tempting to just stop and rest, I could do that, I could rest.
“Yes, my love, you could stop and rest.” The air goes colder as a voice whispers and I feel a breath pass my ear.
Immediately I’m frozen in place. Slowly I turn around looking for the source of the voice. I see nothing and take a tentative step forward.
“You’re so tired, let me hold you.” The oily voice sounds again.
“No, I can’t. I have to get away from here.” I call out then put my hand over my mouth realizing how loud I was.
“I’ll protect you while you rest, my love.” The voice wafts through my mind.
“Go away.” I put my hand to my neck and realize the talisman is gone. Fuck. I don’t need it. “Go away, Specter. I don’t want you, just go away.”
There’s no response. The chill that was in the air disappears. I’m astounded that I actually silenced him. Of course I’m not convinced that he’s gone, but I’ve got enough to worry about between Glass, poisonous snakes and gators that I don’t need to worry about him steering me off course.
The ground has gotten softer, but the brush thicker. My pace picks up when I hear water. Oh yes, flowing water means that I’m probably near the St. John’s River. All I have to do is follow it north or south and I will eventually hit a highway. It’s a good thing, since the moon has disappeared below the horizon giving me no real compass to go by.
I follow the sound of the river until I finally reach it. I’ve never been so happy to see a body of water in my life. It doesn’t look like a fast moving river, but I know there’s a current. I’ve been swimming in the river many times. I also know there are gators and water moccasins. The bank of the river is too thick with trees. I either have to decide to go back until I can find a way through heading north or south, or I need to climb through the thicket close to the river. My sense of direction has never been that great and I could lose sight of the river very easily.
The only option is to climb through the thicket and hope for patches of bank that I can walk along. My trek north is short-lived when I collapse on the river bank. I can’t move, my body is unresponsive to my will to keep moving. I’m lying at the foot of a patch of palmetto bushes that I’m able to crawl the two feet under them to hide. I know that Glass will come looking for me. I can get some rest here for awhile, and then I can get moving again.
I hunker down, checking that I’m well concealed. As I lay under the bushes I’m brought back to the memory of the hundreds of times I played hide-and-seek with Eli and Aiden. Being so small, I was able to hide in the palmettos in the back yard near the canal. The smell of river and the black silt dirt comforts me in the memory of how simple life used to be. Sobs crash against my chest, rising from the depths of my being. I’m trying to be quiet, but I just can’t control it. Everything feels so hopeless. I gasp for deep cleansing breaths trying to calm down, trying to regain silence so I don’t get caught.
***
Dawn has blessed the landscape with light and stolen the mystery from my surroundings. I look at the cuts on my wrists; one of them is still wet with blood. I can’t tell if it’s still bleeding or was opened again by crawling up the bank or going through the woods. I eye the water, wanting to wash the grime from my wounds. Knowing that they are going to get infected, I would still prefer the polluted water over gritty dirt. After I’ve gotten some rest I’ll climb down to the water and wash my wounds.
***
When I
awaken the sun is high in the sky and even under the protection of the bush it’s still warm. I test my legs to make sure they are still moving. I’m in pain from head to toe, not having shoes on has taken its toll running through the woods. I didn’t even think about it until this moment. I was so consumed with fear and the drive to get as far away from Glass as I possibly could that having bare feet never occurred to me until now. They are bloody and cut and my ankles are on fire where the rope and zip ties cut into my skin leaving deep gashes. My wrists are in worse shape since I cut into them with the knife while trying to get out.
Time to clean up and get moving. Before I leave the safety of my hiding place I stop and listen carefully for a solid three minutes. When I’m about to crawl out I hear footfalls. I’m frozen in place. Fear paralyzes me and my breathing becomes shallow and quiet. I don’t dare move; if I do I could be seen. If I hold still I won’t attract attention.
I can’t see who it is. But why would anyone else be out here other than Glass looking for me? My hands are trembling and I try to still them by wrapping them around me. The footsteps stray further away slowly. Eli used to pull that shit, walk away but really just be right around the corner. There’s no way I’m coming out of this bush until I know for sure he’s gone. I don’t know how long that will be.
There’s barely a breath coming from me. It’s been quite a while since I’ve heard anything other than the sound of the river, the birds and the other animals that make the river bank their home. I try to peek out to see if there’s anything there. There’s no movement or indication that there’s anyone nearby. The sun is sitting lower in the sky. My guess is that it’s been at least two hours since someone walked past. When I decide it’s safe to leave my spot, I can’t. My legs are so cramped up that it’s difficult to move. With my hands I pull my left leg out from underneath me.
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