Authors: Kristen Gibson
Things started
clicking. The land grab was as much about oil as it was about gambling. The
maps in Chloe’s files told me as much, seeing Thibodeaux cleared up why.
“If the build went
forward, your new pipelines couldn’t go in, and you’d be back at square one
looking to patch old lines until you could find more land, make a new plan, and
work through the bureaucratic red tape all over again.”
“Chloe was right.
You are smart.”
How did he know
anything about her other than what Tab made up? He must have read the questions
on my face.
“How’d I know?” He
smiled, just like Tab when he’d cornered his prey. “Since I can’t let you walk
out of here, I may as well confess,” he leaned in and whispered, “I lied. There
is blood on my hands. It was almost too easy.”
By now he was
grinning, so happy with himself. Happy over the death of my friend—a
friend I should have been there to save.
“All I had to do
was tell her how worried we were.” Thibodeaux faked a sad expression. I wished
I could knock the smugness right out of him.
“I told Chloe that
Tab might hurt himself if he didn’t get help. What really got her attention was
when I said the family couldn’t do it without her help. She agreed to meet with
Tab’s doctor and me. She was shocked when Dr. Avanti pulled out his needle.” He
got comfortable telling his story as though he’d staged the perfect murder.
Thibodeaux disgusted and scared me. While he focused on his tale, I searched
for a weapon and a way out.
“That man didn’t
come cheap, but he was happy to take my money. He needed it since he owed
Ruggiano close to six-figures, which also made him the perfect mark. Doc wasn’t
smart enough to realize I paid him to kill those people, and had a trusted
antique dealer ship him the artifacts found near the bodies, so I could
implicate Ruggiano, but pin the murders on doc if things went sideways. See,
I’m always thinking ahead.” He tapped at his temple, like there was something
up there besides a whole lot of crazy.
It was a double
cross? How did he even know about the deal?
“I see the wheels
are turning up there. There are people in my company that get paid to monitor
my oil reserves. If something’s gonna impact my business or my career, they let
me know. It would have been nice if Ruggiano had done his homework ahead of
time. Instead, he jumped in head first.”
“So, use your
influence and block the deal. Why make such a mess of killing people to frame
him?”
“I made a better
deal.”
Another deal to get
Ruggiano out of the picture? Who better to double cross Ruggiano than,
“Sultan?”
Thibodeaux let out
a short laugh. “It’s mutually beneficial. Sultan wanted him gone, and I got to
take out some mob guys and make money in the process. My new pipeline moves
forward and Sultan’s hands stay clean. No one would suspect me or my people, we
live too far away to care, and the pipeline problems have been kept quiet.
Sultan and I planned it so Ruggiano would take the fall.”
If he was the one
doing Sultan’s dirty work then he must be here for more than just me. “You were
the one dispatched to take care of Sigo?”
He searched my
incredulous expression and responded. “It’s gonna be the final nail in
Ruggiano’s coffin. It wasn’t a secret he wanted to get rid of Sigo. When they
find the family, there isn’t a person on earth that won’t think Ruggiano
deserves the chair.”
He told me his
gruesome plans. And he sounded as though he’d enjoy it. After he finished with
the Sigo family, he planned to end Sultan’s reign.
“What about the
list? You were going to double cross both of them?” I was in disbelief. Sultan
gave up Thibodeaux, and Thibodeaux planned to take down Sultan. I guess ‘
No
honor among thieves’
also applied to psychopaths.
When he shifted his
gun, I glanced at the ground and hoped I could reach the stick before he got a
shot off.
Noticing my
distraction, he shoved the gun barrel into my side hard enough I fell to the
ground—right where I wanted to be.
“Get up klutz. Time
for you to die.”
I stared him down
while my hands fumbled past dirt and leaves.
“Wait!” I needed
time to find the branch. “What about the powder? Don’t you want my theory on
it?”
“Why don’t you
enlighten
me?” He settled his gun across his arms again.
“You didn’t just
want to take down Ruggiano. You wanted to hurt him for messing with your
original plans.” Apple didn’t fall far from that tree—guess Tab inherited
his desire to inflict pain from his dad. My hand searched while my eyes stayed
on Thibodeaux. “You wanted to hurt him by hurting people he loved.” The photo
made sense. The reason it stuck out, the reason she hesitated when I asked her
about Ruggiano was because they were protecting each other, hiding some sort of
relationship.
The smug look on
Thibodeaux faded.
“You knew he was
watching out for Mrs. Jacobson. That’s why he was at the fundraiser, and why
she didn’t admit knowing him. It would be dangerous if anyone found out. But
you did, somehow, and saw her as an easy target. If Mrs. Jacobson had been
accused of being involved in the murders, he’d have gone ape. You have no sense
of decency at all. Do you?”
His shadowy glare
terrified me. “All I had to do was get Tab to catch her
no-good-wheelchair-pushing-cousin buying some weed. After that, the little scum
brought me her special red ochre powder, no questions asked.”
“No one would
believe she could commit murder, she can barely walk.” I secretly thought she
could with an accomplice, but I was suspicious of everyone these days.
“I didn’t need them to believe it. The
evidence would force the police to bring her in for questioning where my people
could do what was necessary to scare her into implicating Ruggiano. Dumb
bastard thinks he’s the next Capone. He’s nothing.”
Thibodeaux looked
hungry for death. “Nothing. Just like you’re about to be.” He raised the gun
barrel.
I rolled, grabbed
the branch I needed, and jammed it into his crotch. He dropped the gun, shouted
a few expletives, and grabbed himself. I quickly stood and swung the stick. He
was bent over, but caught it with one hand and tried to pull me off balance. It
brought me close enough he grabbed a handful of my hair. I swatted at him, and
he started choking me.
I resisted,
slapping at him as long as I could. My arms weakened and dropped. He dug in
harder.
I watched evil spill
into Thibodeaux’s eyes as he squeezed the life out of me. I was fading. The
thought of this no-good, greedy jerk getting away with murder pissed me off.
His was not going to be the last face I ever saw.
My fighter awoke. I
shoved my arms up, brought them back down over his arms, and broke his hold.
Then I shoved the heel of my hand up into his face and broke his nose. He made
a strange noise and grabbed for his nose.
Choking, I ran, got
the stick, and hit him over the head as hard as I could. Then hit him again
until he fell flat.
I moved away from
Thibodeaux and fell to my knees. Hunched over and crying, I tried to force air
into my lungs to stay conscious. It didn’t work. Instead, I hyperventilated and
got light-headed.
Just when I thought
I’d pass out, a bronze-skinned guy dressed in a Grateful Dead t-shirt, jeans,
and scuffed combat boots came out of nowhere. He laid a hand on my back for
just a moment and my breathing calmed. The young man checked my assailant for a
pulse.
The stranger reached
out his hand to help me up. “Don’t worry, he’ll be out for a while.”
I questioningly
looked from my rescuer to Thibodeaux, then back.
“Seriously, nice
shot. Name’s Walt. I’m here to help. Now, let’s get you up.”
I knew Walt could
have pretended not to notice the bludgeoned men, or left me stranded, but he
didn’t. I’d have kicked Thibodeaux while he was down, but it seemed a little
over the top, so I reached my hand out for Walt and stood up.
A couple younger
guys came from the trees and looked at Walt. He pointed toward Thibodeaux.
“There are two. Get them out of here and clean up.”
Walt helped me walk
toward Garrett. I wobbled like a baby fawn, but I did it (mostly) on my own. “I
came to warn your family. Instead, you came to my rescue.”
“Lady, from what I
saw, you saved yourself.”
Something like
appreciation or pride made me stand a little taller.
Walt helped Garrett
come to with smelling salts. Except for some cuts and blood, Garrett looked
pretty good for being kidnapped, poisoned, and beat. I was exhausted and looked
like a drowned rat covered in dirt and leaves. Cold winds whipped over my skin
like splintered glass. I suddenly wished for home, hot cocoa, and a warm
blankie.
We walked further
along to the place Cal had been shot. An old man with long grey hair braided
halfway down his back was hunched over Cal. A small leather satchel hung at his
side. The man pulled some root out of the bag and crushed it over Cal’s gunshot
wound. Cal winced. I let out a sigh. Cal was alive. He’d been propped against a
tree and was breathing.
The old man had
skin closer to coffee-with-cream. He said something in a language accented by
clicking sounds and continued to patch Cal’s shoulder. From the looks of it,
he’d doctored more than a few wounds.
The old man stood to
wipe his hands. When he turned, I let out a gasp. The tobacco skin, long gray
hair, deep wrinkles around the eyes—it was the face from my dreams.
Who
was he? How could he be here?
Images flashed.
There were dead bodies covered in reddish powder, the embankment, jackpot
slots, and a bright light that blazed until I regained focus.
As if he knew what
was going on inside my head, knew my questions, the old man walked over and
spoke.
“You took long
enough, bright eyes. We’ve been waiting for you.”
“For me?”
The old man eyed me
for a moment. “So we can get this man to a hospital.” Then he winked as if
there was some sort of secret we shared.
“I came to tell you
Sultan’s men were coming to hurt you and your family.”
“Thank you for what
you did to stop them.”
It was good to know
he’d be safe at least until the next group of assassins came.
On the walk back to
the helicopter Walter Sigo and his grandson Walt told us about their land, the
case, and Chloe’s involvement.
“Some people don’t
care about the off-tribe casinos. We understand it can help make money for the
tribe. But in our case, we know there are plenty operating, but there are
dangers. We need to diversify operations, and must keep our council in check.
Too many politicians and bad people are lining the pockets of our council.
They’re turning us against ourselves.” Sigo looked irked, but he shook it off.
“When Chloe came to
interview me. I told her the same thing. She was the only one who’d help us.
The other lawyers got paid to leave us alone. I told her there were a few of
our tribe who still opposed the deal. When I told her about the oil company
that came sniffing around to buy up land right after the casino investors, she
told me to keep these until I saw you.”
The old man opened my
hand with calloused fingers that had probably worked more than most people
would in their entire lives. He placed a paper and a necklace in my hand.
“Chloe gave specific instructions to give them only to you. She was afraid
someone might kill her, but never stopped helping us. Make sure her killers are
punished.”
I squeezed my fist
and looked him in the eye. “You have my word.”
Pleased with my
response, a smile crossed his crinkly face. Cal looked tired. It was time to
leave.
The old man spoke
to Garrett. “Teach her more than waving sticks and groin kicks. While
effective, they will only delay death, not prevent it.”
Garrett nodded a
silent agreement. I thought I saw the edges of his mouth start to pull up into
a smile.
“Cal will recover
soon. You are welcome to stay and rest, but I can see she’s already gone.” The
old man meant me. I didn’t hear what he said next because I was already
thinking about what I would tell Chloe’s mom.
CHAPTER 31
We got back to the ‘Koala’. A woman dressed like a hiker carrying some
serious hardware exchanged words with Cal as Walt and Garrett loaded him, then
me, into the chopper. Mr. Thibodeaux was cuffed and Tab had been restrained,
but remained passed out on a stretcher. Walt and Garrett loaded the Thibodeaux
men and we headed home.
Garrett took the
controls. He was still weak, but in better shape to fly than Cal. I stayed by
Cal and made sure he was comfortable and protected. Surprisingly, the guys
slept most of the way, and with Garrett busy at the helm, I did my best to calm
down as I turned Chloe’s necklace around in my hands.
It was all too
fresh, and I needed space to read the note, mostly because I didn’t know if it
would trigger anger or tears. This was not the place for a breakdown.
No matter, there
was plenty of other stuff to figure out. How could I explain to mom what I’d
been doing? What was next for Tab and his dad? Would Ruggiano and Sultan come
after us? Too many thoughts fought at once. My head throbbed, so I watched out the
window for a while.
When we got to the
hospital, one of Cincy’s finest took Tab away, still unconscious. Thibodeaux
was met by more cops and his lawyer. A third person, a detective from the CPD,
flashed his badge and took over when the deputy had trouble handling the
lawyer. They took Thibodeaux downtown along with his posse to answer for his
transgressions.
Chloe’s killers
would be brought to justice. I’d see to it personally.
Cal was admitted
for observation. Whatever field surgery Walter Sigo did, was good enough Cal
would recover despite the bullet’s close proximity to a major artery.
Garrett was
examined, and after ignoring the doctor’s objections, left. I dropped him off.
I would have stayed, but the poison was still a threat to him. I had to meet
Millie. He needed sleep more than anything right now, anyway.
I raced over to
Millie’s shop with the seeds and roots I’d harvested.
“Did ya bring
everything? Including the hair?”
“I did, but he
thought it was a little too voo-doo.”
“It’s part of the
spell.”
“Spell?” Maybe
Millie had magical powers.
“Did ya meet Sigo?”
“Yes, at the
falls.”
“Good. Ya needed to
be there for the meeting to happen.”
The meeting. Sigo.
Then realization. I had the dreams about Sigo after taking Millie’s potions.
“But, how did you—”
“Get inside your
head? It’s a story for another day. Let’s begin, we haven’t got much time.”
I was confused, but
trusted her. Garrett trusted her, even if he didn’t believe in magic. Truth be
told, magic was something I wanted to believe in, but didn’t know if it was
possible.
“Okay. What can I
do?”
“Ya need to crush
these seeds ya brought back from the falls. Then ya need to add a vial full of
the red elixir I made earlier and three drops of your blood.”
“Excuse me. My
what?” Garrett was right. She was into black magic, or something. I gave her
the ‘are you kidding me’ look. She didn’t blink, just used her fingertip and
pretended to cut across her palm diagonally. I heaved a sigh. “Okay, give me
something to prick my finger.”
“Garrett’s said you
have a very trusting soul. It’s a rare quality these days, but also a dangerous
one.”
“So, I don’t have
to slice my hand or dance over a boiling cauldron to save Garrett?”
“No, ya don’t. But
you will need more protection.” Millie handed me what looked like an ancient
pocketknife with ornate carvings on the wooden handle. “Be careful. It’s old,
and sharp.”
When I touched it,
the knife felt heavier than it should have. I could swear a surge of
electricity shot through me. Things were getting out of control, but Millie
hadn’t let us down yet. Suddenly, a shock ran through me and I was back in a
dream world. It must have been a hundred years earlier by the way everyone was
dressed. Through a gun-smoke haze, I saw people, families, and natives running
from something.
In a flash, the
thing they were running from rode up on a horse. He jumped off and knocked me
to the ground.
He pulled out his
sword. I rolled, but he managed to cut through flesh near my shoulder. It hurt
like fire. It was a small wound, but the blood came quickly.
Electricity surged
and I nearly fainted. Millie stabilized me. I was back at her shop, confused
about what happened.
Millie handed me a
cloth to cover the wound. It cooled the fire and made my head feel better.
Probably another magical thing I didn’t have time to question.
Without any
explanation, she mixed the potion, funneled it into an old apothecary bottle,
and capped it with the stopper. She paused before she gave me directions.
“Ya take this
directly to him, ya hear? He needs to drink this before the poison kills him.”
I nodded. “Got it.
Straight there, drink right away, or he dies.” I said it calmly, but I was
anything but calm.
“Ya need to drink
dis one for your wound. And girl, admit you care. Tell dat boy how ya really
feel.
If you wait too long, he
won’t be the only one to suffer.”
“But—”
“Go. We don’t have
time. Besides you’re not ready to hear it all. Just go and save the boy. May
the good Lord help ya both.”
I took a step and
turned back. “How did you know about Sigo?”
“Da spirits talk to
me, girl.” She cackled long and deep.
Were we in
N’awlins?
Maybe Garrett was right
about the voo-doo thing. I couldn’t ask because Millie pushed me out the door
so fast.
Garrett was asleep
sitting up in his office chair when I arrived. At least, I hoped he was
sleeping. I went to put a hand on his arm and he nearly jumped when he woke up.
But, he could barley move. If he’d had actual energy, he might have ended up
out of his seat on the ground. Things looked very bad. He needed help, fast.
I held up the
bottle, hoping it would work, but unsure if the potion could actually heal him.
I sighed. “Garrett, she said you have to drink this.”
“Unh,” he grunted.
“Hey, you drink
that one and I’ll drink this.”
He sat up and
attempted to laugh.
“Why are you
laughing? This is not funny.”
“We have to play a
drinking game using some red gunk an eccentric lady told us would keep me from
dying. It sounds just crazy enough to work.”
“She’s an
herbalist, and I feel the same. If we make it through this, you owe me a real
drink. Now, it’s late. Do it.”
“Down the hatch,”
Garrett leaned back and drank.
I tipped mine back
and let the potion slide down my throat. It felt odd, but it didn’t taste
overly sweet like I expected. It felt kind of thick, but was pleasant. Then I
choked. Something like vinegar hit my taste buds.
Garrett had a
coughing fit. I reached for a cloth. He waved me off and pointed to the glass.
I gave him some water and he took a sip between gasps. It helped.
“That was awful.”
“Not surprising,
since I saw what she put in yours.”
“Do I need to
know?”
“No, but they do
this kind of thing in the movies all the time.”
“Movies, huh?”
He smiled and
pulled me in for a kiss on the forehead. “Cal told me to keep an eye on you.
Tab will be in the hospital for a couple weeks, but Thibodeaux made bail. We
think he’ll come after you. A security detail is on you and your mom 24/7, but
be cautious.”
I shivered at the
thought. “Do you think Ruggiano or Sultan will come after us?”
Garrett handed me a
note. “A messenger brought it over about fifteen minutes before you arrived.” I
opened the thick envelope and read the note:
Dearest Matilda,
After hearing of
your recent trip north, my business associates and I have reached a new
agreement. We will alter a few plans, but will continue our profitable
partnership.
If it weren’t for
you, this new understanding wouldn’t have been possible. We thank you for
showing us a more fruitful opportunity could blossom.
I trust you’ll
accept this as a token of our thanks and friendship.
Warmly,
Sultan
He’d enclosed five
thousand dollars cash. It would go a long way to helping mom and me, but there
was no way I’d keep it. It was hush money.
“How do I send this
back?”
“Let’s show Cal. He’ll
help us figure out how to respond. I’ll lock it up until we can meet him in
person and discuss it. Get some rest. I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Do you want me to
take you home, or bring you anything?”
He opened his lower
desk drawer and pulled out a blanket. “Nope. I’m good. See you in the morning.”
The light drizzle
persisted. Fresh leaf piles were now matted heaps along the roadside when I
looked outside. It was going to be a cold, wet night.
Mom needed help to
get from the couch to the bedroom when I returned. I murmured something about a
long day and needing to study, so she didn’t ask questions. It bought me time.
She was so tired, she barely moved while I gathered some dry clothes.
I washed up,
changed into pink flannel PJs with fuzzy slippers, and made a quick dinner.
I took my plate
along with a drink and got comfy on the couch. When the micro Mac and cheese
was gone, I had an apple and some yogurt, followed by a couple cookies with
milk. Being nearly killed made me famished. Food helped.
When I finally got
comfy on the couch with my laptop, it was almost eleven o’clock.
My phone buzzed. I
reached for it and noticed the note from Chloe stuffed in my purse. I’d get to
it in the morning.
It was a text from
Garrett: I’ve turned into a zombie and want your—brains!
I wrote: I’m
partial to my brains, how about my body?
It was flirty, but
felt right, so I sent it.
The bubbles on the
screen flickered for a minute before his response came: Willing to negotiate a
package deal?
I responded: Sure,
but I’m a tough negotiator.
He responded:
Counting on it.
Was it getting
hot in here?
On that note, I smiled
and set the phone aside. I fought the urge to wander down and see him.
Now that I was
alert, I spent the next couple hours going through the files and outlining what
I knew for Cal and the CPD to review. Their analysis might come up with the
same stuff, but it felt productive to do the work.
Shortly after two,
I crawled under a blanket and passed out.