DEADLY HOPE a gripping detective mystery full of twists and turns

by Jack Parker

  "Of course. Enjoy, ladies." Connor recovered quickly, but as he walked away, his step stiffened. Luci smiled at me, and my heart melted a little at her genuine joy at my actions.

  "I believe you are absolutely incorrect about your abilities, Miss Danes. You have a beautiful control of language." I laughed out loud at her demure remark. Perhaps there was more to this fine dining thing than I originally thought.

  CHAPTER 5

  As May slipped away in a blur of coffee and burger grease, much like April, a wall developed between the members of my diner family and grew in size each day. Barb hadn't lovingly berated me in two weeks, and Ashley and I avoided the back steps nearly that long. Ashley's newfound love and devotion for the man irritated not only me but Barb as well. Every word about him made her scrape that metal spatula across the grill a little too fervently. Barb knew what type of man Daniel was, had seen enough of them during her fifty years of living in this town, but she sealed her lips and waited patiently until the day she scraped Ashley off the floor after he knocked her there again.

  That's how the time passed for the month after my first dinner with Luci. Ashley made plans for her baby; she even told Daniel about it a few weeks ago, hence the sudden tenderness. The bastard bought her flowers and promised to be a better man. He disgusted me because I knew that he would only restrain himself while she carried his child, and then he would probably beat her the day she returned from the hospital. For the moment, however, she seemed happier than I'd seen her in a while, and I couldn't bring myself to destroy that. I offered her a way out. Her parents and brother offered her refuge. You can't save someone who didn't want saving.

  As for me, I focused on my plot to swindle Luci. The grandeur of her life and the soothing silk of her voice blinded me to my darker purpose at times. When those moments arose, I avoided her a few days at a time until she appeared at Barb's asking for my company once more. I needed to find her weakness and exploit it or gain her favor in order to escape this place before I lost my mind and either killed someone or myself, whichever I hated more in that moment. I hadn't realized at the time that her weakness was me, our affinity for one another. All I saw was the fog of pain surrounding my bleak situation.

  I somehow lost my best friend and my mentor to the everyday stress of the work and the individual lives they led when they left the diner. The only comfort I found was in the knowledge that it would soon be over, one way or another. I dreamed constantly of my escape, into the world or the afterlife, whichever came first. The increasing time spent with Luci revealed more and more how incredibly empty my life was. I must escape. I must deceive her, despise her even.

  But sometimes when the diner fell silent with the absence of wanting customers, my mind suspended reality for only a few moments and immersed itself in the tender memories Luci shared. She had lived fully, taking the world by storm and leaving no apology in her wake, and willingly shared those experiences with me. Though I refused to admit it, even to myself, sometimes, I allowed those flashes of vivid memories to play in my mind as if they were my own, like the one she'd given me last week.

  Luci held Mattalyn's hands tightly and guided her friend to the roof of the library, the tallest building on the grounds of their high school. Mattalyn hissed and gasped as her footing teased her with the fear of falling, but she trusted Luci with her life and depended on that faith to keep her upright. There would be severe consequences paid if they were discovered, but the high stakes of the situation only strengthened her resolve to see it to fruition, knowing Luci would stand at her side and accept the punishment with her.

  "Luc, what are we doing?" She asked when Luci finally stopped tugging her forward. Luci's arms slipped around her waist from behind and held her body securely in place.

  "Open your eyes." Luci whispered, her breath warming Mattalyn's ear and cheek. She obeyed Luci's gentle command and gasped.

  The vantage point from the library's slanted roof offered an unobstructed view of the lake over the tree line of their country campus. The full moon reflected on the surface and made the clouds appear purple in its distorted light. Stars twinkled and danced across the water and simultaneously remained steady and sure in the sky, unwavering stalwarts guiding the sailors home. Mattalyn forgot the slight chill in her hands and gaped at the majestic splendor of nature. Slowly, she and Luci sank to the roof together, and she leaned into Luci's strong form as she allowed the scene to entrance her.

  "Luci, it's so beautiful," she murmured, and Luci squeezed a bit tighter.

  "I come up here to think sometimes. I wanted to share it with you," Luci explained shyly, afraid Mattalyn would find the thought absurd and silly.

  Mattalyn smiled and angled awkwardly to press a kiss to Luci's cheek and then threaded her fingers through the larger ones securely around her waist. Luci became her best friend years ago in primary school and had remained steady and true like the stars despite the social pressures to drop the nerdy, unpopular girl. Luci never cared that her dull brown hair frizzed and tangled or that she wore big round glasses that constantly slid down her nose. Luci called her beautiful at every appropriate opportunity and some that were unwarranted. Together they agreed to take this world by storm and become something unstoppable, an infallible team as long as they remained unwaveringly true to one another, like the stars.

  I shook my head before the images of Luci's life eclipsed my entire reality. I wanted so desperately to recall such wonderful and beautiful memories, but for now, I relied on Luci's vivid descriptions of her life to sustain my need for escape. For the past month, I'd moved through the empty spaces of the diner without actually seeing them, daydreaming through the work. Last week, I spilled a beer on our mayor's lap. Yesterday, I accidentally dumped hamburger steak covered in gravy, green beans, and mashed potatoes down a customer's back while I was serving the booth behind her. Her meal had been paid for out of my tips, and Barb warned me to square my actions before I added unemployment to my list of charms. My diner family had fallen apart in the blink of an eye, and I felt truly lost for the first time in my life. No matter the new crisis in our lives outside of the diner, we'd always bonded together more tightly and loaned strength to whichever woman was in need.

  Ashley and I practically ran the place when Barb's husband died in a logging accident last year. Ash took over inventory and the waitress floor, and I took over the grill and dish tank. We ran ourselves ragged for months, staying from open to close every single day. When Daniel broke Ashley's jaw, Barb loaned her the money to pay for medical bills because he refused to spend a dime on them. She still gave Barb twenty dollars a week out of her cash tips to repay the loan. As for me, I depended on them to never turn their backs, no matter what idiotic mistake I'd made the night before and to clean me up after my dad knocked the snot out of me. That bond, however, had weakened. I knew they disapproved of my friendship with Luci, but it stemmed from so much more than that. Perhaps we had all grown tired of the insanity that came from repeating the same mistakes over and over again, me with my terrible decisions and Ashley through her refusal to leave her husband and Barb who continued to condone it all by keeping us on the payroll. It was her business, after all, her only income now that her husband was gone. Perhaps, we'd simply outgrown each other.

  So, I looked forward to my meetings with Luci, like a golden compass pointer leading me towards my freedom. Each week she presented me with a new novel or set of short stories and then we discussed them the following week. Sometimes we returned to the city for dinner and spent others in her study with tea and pastries from the bakery/hardware store in town. (A mechanic married a pastry chef and moved here to raise children. Very nice people.) We were together for hours, always. A few weeks ago she asked if I'd allow her to come visit me at the diner during the day with the excuse that sometimes the restoration of the mansion was so loud that she couldn't think properly. I read between the lines. She wanted to see me more, and I felt satisfied with the progress I made in my plan to escape. A few m
ore months, and she would gladly surrender the money to help me leave this place. I must only survive for a little while longer.

  Ordinarily, surviving wouldn't have present such a problem, but the more time I spent with Luci and the more I fantasized about leaving and the more Ashley worshipped Daniel, the closer to unhinged I became. Every day that ironclad control I asserted over my anger and my pain and my disappointment with my life slipped a little more. The rage I uncovered scared me and thrilled me at the same time, but it also caused more grief than I'd anticipated. Barb mostly threw up her hands in frustration and told me that I was unapproachable and scaring away her customers. Ashley never showed up to work early anymore, because of me or Daniel, I wasn't certain. And my father, well, I avoided him as much as possible. I stocked the fridge with beer and hid in my room or stayed in the woods until I was too tired to function or had to go to work.

  Even my father, through his drunken haze, noticed the change. Something inside of him broke when he caught me sneaking into the house well after midnight after I'd spent the evening with Luci in her mansion. Luci had driven me to our dirt road driveway and dropped me off far from his eyes should he happen past a window and see the headlights of her car, just like she'd done for the past six weeks. I incorrectly assumed that he had passed out for the evening and left me in peace until morning, and adrenaline spiked through me when I saw that he sat in his worn recliner, beer in hand, waiting for me. My fear of him was irrational given his current physical state. A stiff wind could have knocked him over effortlessly, but I still trembled when he fixed me with that hateful gaze and tipped his bottle up to finish the contents.

  "Where the hell you been?" He grumbled and then stood. I jumped when he thumped his empty beer bottle onto the tiny kitchen table.

  "I was out with a friend," I offered, my small voice frightening me.

  That voice haunted me from my childhood, reminded me of all the times I begged him to hit me instead of Lilly, my little sister. Before I met Luci, life with him had been bearable. Aside from the occasional slap on the back of the head or grope of my ass, he had refrained from touching me for several years. Some days I didn't even see him. As I became happier with myself, however, the more dissatisfied I became with my life. Last week I nagged him about getting sober or at least keeping the house clear of his empty cans and bottles but thwarted the verbal assault when he raised his fist to me. I hated the fact that I still wasn't able to fully stand up to him, not yet, but the day quickly approached.

  "That bitch with the mansion?" He grunted and stomped towards the refrigerator heavily. He knew. My heart pounded in my ears, and I shook my head to alleviate the pressure it built. I knew it was only a matter of time until some drunk at the Lodge told him about my involvement with Luci.

  "She's not a bitch," I muttered when he leaned into the open door and pulled a beer from the bottom shelf, bottles clinking noisily.

  "How long ya been seein' her?" I recognized that voice. It usually meant that I'd be in physical pain in the near future, and I scratched my forehead, unsure of how to pull through this situation unscathed. I bit my lip and intentionally ignored him, opting instead to simply go to my room and go to bed. Usually, when I ignored him, he lumbered back to his room or the recliner and left me alone.

  "Laur, I'm talkin' at you," he tried again as he took a few heavy steps towards me. I froze in the middle of the living room and faced him again.

  "I know, Dad," I murmured, my eyes on the floor, crossed arms over my chest my only defense.

  "Well, why the hell ya walkin' away for? You know what your problem is? You think you're better'n everyone around ya. What's the matter with what ya got? Huh? You think you're better'n your raisin', that's your problem." He twisted the metal cap from his bottle and threw it on the floor at my feet to emphasize his question. I flinched – and hated myself for doing it. I decided then to cower no more. My face burned with rage.

  "And what is it that I have, Dad? Huh? I mean really, this dump we live in? How about the bags of garbage on the front porch that you refuse to let me throw away? What the hell gives you the right to tell me to be thankful for what I have when you haven't been sober in years? Do you even know what you have? Do you know that the roof is starting to cave in on the house? You didn't even know that your own daughter who lives with you had been spending time with the new owner of Carver Manor for the past six weeks." I regretted my outburst before the words had even finished leaving my mouth, but they had been said regardless. I held my breath and waited.

  "You're pushing it, Laur." He warned and then paused for another swig of beer. I told myself to be quiet, say nothing provoking, but I knew that only anger masked my fear of him. The more frightened he made me, the angrier I became, which meant my mouth would refuse my command for silence eventually. I turned towards my room once more, biting my bottom lip when his heavy footsteps followed me.

  "You live here just fine. No matter how high and mighty you like to think you are, you need to learn your place." His words came more slowly, calmed by the alcohol, but no less angry.

  "Yeah, I live here as your slave girl," I muttered stupidly, not quite sure why I couldn't turn my mouth off that night. A part of me wanted him to attack me, to kill me, to put me out of my misery so that I wouldn't have to make good on my vow to use Luci. I was too far in to quit now, but if he killed me, she'd never have to know that I'd always meant to harm her.

  "Don't speak to your father that way." Anger dictated his tone once more, and I released the white hot flash of rage that tore through my veins at the meaning of his words.

  "Father? You've never been a fucking father. You're just another ignorant drunken redneck bastard who happened to donate sperm the old fashioned way. What kind of father acts like you? Huh? You don't even know what your daughter has been doing. You haven't said two words to me in the past week. That woman has been the talk of the town for the past two months, and you didn't even know she existed, you stupid son of a bitch!"

  I smelled beer covering my shirt and felt a hot trickle of another liquid into my eyes before I realized that I was lying on the floor. Something pulled at my hair and neck, but my arms defied the commands of my brain my brain. I couldn't stop it. The dark living room shifted in and out of focus, and I tried to remember how I'd ended up there. Before all of the pieces slid together, his boney fingers pierced my biceps and jerked me into a standing position. I cried out, but all I heard was a strangled gurgle when my head snapped backwards as he shook me violently.

  I blinked rapidly, attempting to focus my swimming vision. Stale beer and putrid mouth rot filled my nostrils, and I pulled away from it desperately, panic dictating my actions. His fingers squeezed my arms tightly, holding me in place, and he shook me again when I didn't calm fast enough for his liking. The liquid on my forehead trickled into my mouth, and I blew at it, spattering the red liquid onto his face. I realized then that it was blood. He'd smashed his beer bottle into my face, busted my head. I flailed against his hold once more. I'd wanted this to happen, but my survival response reacted involuntarily to the situation.

  The pounding around the left side of my mouth hadn't compared to the lurching in my belly as the force of his fist sent me to the floor again. I clawed at the fingers that suddenly appeared around my throat and tried to cry out again. My already fuzzy vision darkened as I choked and sputtered, desperately seeking oxygen that could not breech his barrier. My hands fell limply against my chest, and I felt the fight abandon me when he shook my neck in his hands. The back of my head banged against the stained carpet, and my hands flopped to the floor, flaccid. The only thing left to do was simply let go.

  "I told you to learn your place," his gravelly voice cut through my oxygen-deprived haze. I felt rather than saw his face over mine even though my eyes were wide open, unseeing. Relief heatedly flooded my body, and I gave into it, finding comfort in the certainty that I would die this night.

  I barely felt his lips cover mine in an unwanted kiss a
s air once again passed through my mouth and into my lungs. His heavy footsteps vibrated the floor beneath my back, soothingly. Glass clanked, and then more of those gentle vibrations comforted me against the heaving of my chest. Had I died? Were the gentle vibrations the feeling of me being taken away to the afterlife? I remained on the floor as my vision swam through the cold darkness, and then finally, I felt warmth. Sunlight stretched its hot fingers over my face, and I realized that the night had passed and morning once again brought new life with it. My chest and back ached, but the tang of iron in my mouth reminded me that I wasn't dead. I had survived yet again. I hated it. I'd so desperately longed for the peace that death would surely have brought.

  Blotches of memory were lost as I suddenly found myself places throughout my house with no recollection of ever moving from the previous spot. I cleaned blood from my face and stared into my own eyes in the bathroom first. The hollowness I found there frightened me. They could not be the same bright green eyes that had greeted me with an innocent if reticent hopefulness every morning for the last six weeks. I brought water to my mouth with a cupped hand and watched the faint red circle the drain until it ran clear, devoid of any evidence of my injuries.

  Magically, I teleported to my bedroom and slipped my scratchy red polo with my name embroidered above the left breast over my head slowly. My movements felt labored, like the room had been filled with invisible water. I hugged the book that Luci had given me last night, The Woman in White, to my chest all the way to the diner, my mind slipping in and out of focus. Before I realized I had walked in the door, Barb appeared in front of me, a chubby hand covering her mouth. Her wide, shocked eyes told me that I looked as terrible as I felt. She tried to take me into her motherly arms, but I flinched away, clutching Luci's book tighter.