Dark Passing (The Ella Reynolds Series) (29 page)

Martha smiled and her features were eerie in the low illumination. “I only drive it on special occasions.”

“Oh?”
Shit.

She stopped at a stop sign. “Ella, you look nervous.” She reached out like she was about to pat my arm, just as she had a hundred times—and shoved a rag over my nose and mouth, slamming my head against the seat with surprising strength. I fumbled with my seatbelt and everything went dark.

The room came in and out of focus, and my head throbbed. I tried to close my mouth, but something was in the way. I heard a bell ring in the distance, and I forced my eyes to stay open rather than closing them again. Where was I?

There were clothes, a lot of clothes, hanging in front of me, but I was in the dark. I couldn’t see anything to either side. Voices came from above. I tried to lift a hand to my head, but it wouldn’t move. Something was holding me in place, but I couldn’t see what. I took deep breaths through my nose, fighting the urge to heave as I tried to remember how I got here. Martha. Martha had me. A cloth gag was tied snugly across my mouth and around my head. I rocked back and forth in my chair, but it didn’t budge. The voices sounded closer.

“I haven’t seen her. I thought she was with you tonight,” Martha’s voice said sweetly.

“She was, but she left. I didn’t see who with… I was hoping she might have come back here.”

“Oh, dear… No. Maybe she’s with that detective.”

“I’ll check. If you see her—”

“I’ll tell her you came by, but I think we might have to work on her a bit before you have a chance, dear.”

Fagan laughed, and my muffled scream didn’t even make it out of the room. I kept trying, even though it felt like my throat was tearing apart. “I think you might be right. Have a good night.”

He was leaving.
No, no, no, you can’t leave.
My stomach plummeted. Martha wasn’t even a suspect. Gabriel and Fagan wouldn’t look here again.
I did not survive the last two years of my life to be killed by an old lady. Think, Ella, think.
I yanked against the restraints on my wrists and ankles, but there was no give whatsoever. Slow footsteps came down the stairs.

“Are you awake, dear?” Martha’s voice called. The clothes parted and her head peeked through. “Wakey, wakey.” Her voice was bright, her smile wide. She walked through and pulled a string hanging above me. A light flickered to life, and I blinked to adjust, my head still spinning. She pulled a chair over. The sound of it scraping along the floor was like nails on a chalkboard. My spine tingled, and my stomach clenched. I looked down at the leather straps fastening me to a metal chair, and everything came back. Jesus, we were wrong about everything.

She sat down heavily. “I’m so sorry for the precautions, but you looked frightened in the van, and I didn’t want you to hurt me or yourself.” She tsked. “It had to be done. You left me no choice. No hard feelings, I hope.”

She reached toward me, and I moved the only part of my body I still had control of, my head, back a few inches. Unfazed, she brushed a strand of hair off of my face. “Now if you promise to be good, I’ll take this off, and we can have a nice chat. Okay?”

I nodded. Chatting was better than dying. She untied the gag. I moved my jaw up and down to ease the stiffness, then swallowed a couple times. “Why?” My voice broke and cracked.

“You were going to leave me, dear. I can’t have that now, can I? My father left, then my mother not long after. Later my husband and Cindy both left me too. I stopped Mary from going, and now she’s with me forever—you can be too.” She patted my knee. “Maybe if you’re extra good, she’ll join us for tea later.”

“Mary? Mary’s here?”

“Yes, of course. Where else would she be?”

I stared at her. What the hell was she talking about? “But the car—”

“Shhh. We don’t talk about that. You’ll upset Mary.”

Wait, what? Was Martha keeping her prisoner? “Can I see Mary? I’d like to meet her.”

“Later, later.” Martha waved her hand in the air. “We must talk first. You need to understand.”

“Okay.”

“Oh.” Martha clapped a hand over her mouth. “I forgot to tell you Carter stopped by to see you. I couldn’t let him interrupt our night, so I sent him away, but I do believe that boy is sweet on you.” She patted my cheek. “I like him so much more than that detective you insist on seeing. You make a better looking couple. You’ll have to explain that to him.”

I wasn’t following her brand of crazy yet. “Explain what?”

She stood up and began to pace. “Why you can’t see each other any longer. You and Carter make an ideal couple. He sees it too. You’re the only one not with the program.”

I tried to smile, though my fear and confusion fought against it. “Okay, I can do that. Do you want me to call Gabriel now?”

“No, no. There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Unless you struggle, like Mary did.” She looked at me with wide eyes. “You aren’t going to struggle are you? You want to stay with me, don’t you, Ella?”

I nodded and bit my lip.

She frowned. “I don’t believe you.” She fingered a gracefully curved knife on the table next to her.

“I do. I want to stay here. Jackson’s wonderful and everyone’s so friendly, especially you.” I tried again, hoping she didn’t notice my voice shaking.

She picked up the knife, touching its tip to the table as she tilted her head to the side.

“You never told me about your parents. What were they like?”

Martha paused and looked over, her eyes suddenly glassy. She lowered the knife and moved back to the chair. “Daddy died when I was barely schooling age. I was in his shop with him. You’ve been there.”

“Have I?”

She nodded. “The barn with the windmill was Daddy’s shop. People would bring him bodies of dead animals, and he’d bring them back to life. I was sitting on the table, watching him work, when blood started coming out of his ears. He grabbed the table and cried, ‘Help me’ and fell. More blood came out of his mouth and his eyes. I screamed and screamed, but Momma couldn’t save him. She didn’t know how to bring things back to life like him.”

I swallowed. Mary’s skin was taken. A horrible thought clawed its way into my mind. “Did you bring Mary back to life?”

A smile split Martha’s face in half. “You do understand.”

I nodded, my eyes filling with tears. I was in trouble.

Martha smoothed my hair back. “Don’t worry, dear. Even if you’re bad, I can bring you back. You have nothing to worry about.”

I curled my hands under as much as I could, but I couldn’t reach anything. Damn it, damn it, damn it. “Martha, these restraints are hurting me. Could we undo them?”

She shook her head, but smiled sympathetically because
that
made everything better. “No, I’m sorry. Not yet.” She retrieved the knife again. “Soon though.”

“I should’ve fattened you up a little.” She pinched the skin on my arm. “Do you want to see your model?”

I couldn’t find my voice, so I nodded; anything to move her and that knife away from me. She walked to my left and pulled a clay sculpture into view. It was slender and wearing my favorite jeans and a shirt I hadn’t missed—but there was no head.

“I’ve been working on this since you first came. What do you think?” Martha stood back to admire her work, glancing back and forth between me and
it
. I’ll have to use your skull or you just won’t look the same. I didn’t know that with Mary. I had to do her from memory, and it wasn’t quite right, so I started on yours early. Lakota’s skull helped matters though. I’m new to the art.”

“Martha, what are you going to do?” I asked.

“Do you want to see the other one I’ve been working on?”

I took a deep breath. No, I absolutely didn’t. “Yes, I really do.”

She dragged out a bigger, male sculpture. “It looks just like him, doesn’t it?”

I wasn’t sure who the headless statue was supposed to be, but I guessed it was Fagan. “Exactly.”

“Should we call him? Bring him back here?”

“I don’t know… Perhaps we should have him meet us at the farm? Surely, you can’t work here.”

“It’s true, the smell and noise would upset the neighbors. Do you think Carter would mind going to the farm?”

I shook my head, and she narrowed her eyes.

“I knew you didn’t want to be here. You’re just like Mary. Your detective is sitting outside my farm as we speak. I heard you talking about it.” She came at me with the knife, and there was nowhere I could go to escape.

She leaned in close. “I’m afraid this is going to hurt, dear.” She rammed the knife into my side. Pain shot through my body. I cried out.

“Shhh,” she soothed.

Warmth seeped into my dress and down my side. Pulling the blade out caused a fresh batch of agony, taking my breath with it. Faintly, I heard footsteps above me, but I wondered if it was wishful thinking, until Martha pulled away and listened. She pressed a finger to her lips, pulled the string on the light, and disappeared into the darkness.

“Martha? Ella?” Fagan’s voice came from upstairs. His quick step thumped down the stairs.

“She’s in here, Fagan. Watch out,” I rasped, having trouble catching my breath. It was like a weight was sitting on my chest, making it impossible to expand.

“Ella? Is that you?” The clothes were shoved to the side.

“Get your gun,” I said, but my words were barely a whisper. There was a scuffle and a thud. Something heavy hit the ground. “Fagan?”

The light came back on, and Martha stood over me with a smile. “He came on his own.” Her face turned serious. “But you, you were very naughty. You could’ve ruined everything.” She slapped me hard enough to jar my body, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my side and chest. She walked away and went to Fagan. “I wasn’t quite ready for you.”

She hooked her arms under his shoulders and dragged him away from me, then laid him down again and wiped sweat from her brow. “You girls are much easier. But we need a man around the house.” She shuffled out of sight and, after some rustling, produced another chair identical to mine. She sat it beside me, hefted him into the seat, and fastened the straps.

“I made these chairs myself.” There was a high level of pride in her voice.

The edges of my vision darkened, and my head lulled forward. When I opened my eyes again, the light was still on, but Martha was gone. Fagan was slumped beside me. I stretched my fingers ‘til I thought they’d tear out of their sockets and nudged his hand. “Fagan.” It was hard to talk, but I managed. “Carter.”

“Mmm,” he moaned. His eyes fluttered; then he looked down at my hand. “Ella?” He looked over at me. “Christ, my head.”

“Shhh. Martha.” I tried to suck in a breath, but it burned and the pain in my side flared. “Killer.”

Understanding flitted across his eyes. He jerked his arms up, but the chair didn’t give any more than mine. He tried again, his muscles tightening and his face red with effort, but nothing.

Everything in me sank. “We’re going to die.”

“No, we aren’t. Gabriel will find us. I called him and told him you were missing and where I was going. If he can’t get in touch with me, he’ll look here.” His hushed tone was comforting, but Gabriel would never make it in time.

Fagan’s phone went off, lighting up his pocket. He shifted toward me. “Ella, can you reach my phone?”

I stretched my fingers toward him, but I was nowhere close. I shook my head. He hopped his chair until he was in front of me, but the phone had stopped ringing. I could barely scrape the edge of his pocket. “Back a little.”

He moved back, and I reached, forcing the leather cuff up as far on my arm as it would go, finally getting close enough to put one finger on the edge of his phone case and inch it toward me. The phone slipped and bounced off Fagan’s chest. I almost screamed. Tears poured down my face when it landed on my lap, face up. I slid my finger across the screen to unlock it and called Gabriel’s number. His “hello” almost undid me. “Help,” I said.

“El, where are you? I can hardly hear you. Is Fagan with you?”

“Martha… has… us. Help.”

Fagan bounced his chair back hitting my knee. I lost my tentative grip on the phone, and it crashed to the stone floor. “Ella? Ella?” Gabriel’s voice called out.

Something banged upstairs, and Fagan and I looked at each other. “Hang up,” Fagan said down to the phone.

“What?” Gabriel said back.

Fagan looked at me helplessly. We couldn’t let Martha find out we called for help, or she’d be waiting. I angled my heel the best I could and pulled the phone close enough I could smash it. The cuff tore at my skin as I slammed my foot down, ending the sound of Gabriel’s voice.

Martha’s footsteps came down the stairs.

“Kick it away,” Fagan hissed.

I bit my lip against the pain of having to lift my leg again. I’d barely shoved the phone a couple inches, when Martha was back through the clothes, knife in hand.

 “Martha.” Fagan looked at her with a disarming smile. “I think I’m going to need you to fill me in on what’s happening. Ella’s a bit out of sorts.”

I kept my chin on my chest. My breath wheezed in and out.

“Ella was leaving.”