Authors: Priscilla Poole Rainwater
“You mean she just disappeared? All that security, and she just got up, dusted herself off, ran into the woods, and simply vanished?” Detective Samson Brigs asked incredulously as his eyes narrowed suspiciously at Satin Johnson, not buying the story they
had
been told a hundred times
since arriving at the Mortenso
n estate.
“I told you I didn't SEE it, you moron, it's just what I heard!” Satin knew they suspected she was lying, but since she hadn't been present when Zeke took Martina Shepard away, as far she was concerned, she was telling the truth.
Leaning against the marble kitchen counter, Brian Lemont listened in silence while Satin answered the questions fired at her. Like his partner, he felt something didn't sit quite right. How could one woman get on the estate undetected, with all that security, and how could she escape that same security, once detected? They were professionals, every one of them. Furthermore, knowing Satin the way he did, he knew that if the woman had indeed escaped, Satin would be raising holy hell from now until doomsday. The entire debacle stunk to high heaven and smacked of 'cover up', but it was the sworn word of many powerful, highly respected members of the community against....no one's. And they did have the token from Granger's shirt pocket, the man's bruises, and the shirt itself, as
evidence that he had indeed been shot by someone.
Everyone they had questioned seemed to not remember exactly how the woman had gotten away, only that she had fired at Granger, hitting him, then headed towards the wooded area on the north end of the property. Once there, her hostage, Regan, with the help of a member of the household staff, had managed to break free. Then, no sign of her, neither hide nor hair. Although he knew he could never prove it, deep down, he suspected no one would ever see Martina Shepard alive again. Listening as Satin finished her statement for the third time, Brian felt envious at how loyal she had become to the Mortensen's, especially Granger.
“When that fu....” Satin caught herself at the last second. Remembering his warning to her about using foul language in his presence, she glanced worriedly at Brian and amended, “When I thought that....lunatic was going to start shooting, inside the house I mean, I grabbed my friend, Cynne'. She had fainted, so me and Jocelyn pulled her behind the couch and kept our as....our behinds there.” Crossing her arms and trying to burn the older detective to a cinder with her withering glare, she mumbled sarcastically, “What, you think I don't know when someone is ready to shoot? If you could get it up, you'd be ready to shoot your load every time you see me, you inbred, limp-dicked bandit!” The no-cursing in front of police officers had lasted all of fifteen seconds for her, a personal best.
Samson Brigs glared right back, his lips curled in a snarl. “You know, one day somebody's gonna bust your little ass! I just hope I'm there to see it.” he said, his eyes lighting up at the very thought. “That day comes, I'm gonna' have my video camera and popcorn ready. Hell, there are so many people that hate you in this county alone, we can probably throw a tailgating party while we watch you get your ass kicked. Yeah, I'd rather watch that than have front-row seats at the Super Bowl!”
Groaning aloud, Brian ran one hand over his face wearily. He could see this interview was going to end just like all the meetings they had with Satin Johnson. Badly.
Narrowing her eyes, Satin pressed the palms of her hands on the heavy oak table and leaned forward, practically growling at the man who was easily thrice her size. “Oh yeah, ASS BANGER? Bring it on! I might even go down. But the fucker that takes me down will have chunks of his ass missing, and I can start with your old, tired, wrinkled one!”
Standing a little taller, Samson gritted his teeth. “Keep running that gutter mouth of yours, and you're going to jail tonight!”
“Arrest me and I'll slap a big-ass false arrest lawsuit on you so fast it'll make your head spin! Who the hell do you think you are? I swear, you must
WANT me to use the retirement checks you'll be getting in a few months for shit paper, after I take a dump on that fucking ugly lawn of yours! I'm not some scared, poor kid, or a burned-out crack whore you're trying to rouse, dickhead! Start shit with me, and I will bring the house down around your fat head! You won't be the first, and you certainly won't be the last! ”
Everyone stood wide-eyed as they watched Samson shake like a leaf in the wind, and knew he was primed to blow.
“
YOU BITCH!!” he exploded, but even as angry as he was he knew not to touch her, because she would make good on her threats, right down to the shitting on his lawn part.
Giving him a nasty, smug grin, she knew he was on the ropes, and moved in for the knockout punch. “You can kiss my black a........” she was cut off mid-sentence as Brian leaped forward, grabbed her roughly around the midsection, then slung her over one shoulder like a sack of flour. “Put me downnnnn! What the hell do you think you're doing!!” she screeched indignantly, arms and legs flailing.
“Time for that lesson in respect I've been promising you, and by the time I'm done, you're gonna' know how to act like a lady. Maybe if your daddy would have spanked that ass from time to time, I wouldn't have to. You're the type that has to learn the hard way, and that's what I'm gonna’ do to you. Good and damn hard!” he said, then began walking.
Panic swept over Satin, and she barely managed to grab the door frame with both hands, stopping him momentarily. As he tugged and tried to loosen her grip on the door frame, she lifted her head and spotted a rookie patrol officer standing nearby, looking at them with a dumbfounded expression. “Well,
JACKASS
, are you going to do your damn sworn duty and HELP ME? Don't just stand there like a slack-jawed fool! Don't you know what he's doing is against the law?
HE CAN'T PUT HIS HANDS ON ME!!!!”
Looking around the room at the other officers, both uniformed and plain clothes, the rookie was even further perplexed by their nonchalant attitudes. To a man, they were either snickering, as if at some private joke, or they were pulling cell phones from their pockets and capturing the moment. With a shrug of his shoulders, he walked over to Satin, pried both sets of fingers from the door frame, then said, “She's loose now, sir. Ms. Johnson, I'm just a rookie, but even I know this: Most people...when they want help...are a little nicer about asking.”
“You....you.....
SPOOGE MOP!
” she howled. “I'll have your badge! I'll...”
“Thanks, son!” Brian winked, interrupting her tantrum. “Now
HOLD STILL!
” he bellowed as he smacked her firm, round bottom loudly with his free right hand, twice.
A chorus of laughter and catcalls followed them from the room, and Satin wept tears of rage and shame at her hopeless plight and utter humiliation, knowing it would be futile to try to press charges, much less ask for witnesses. Still, it was in her nature to go down fighting. “
OWWWW! POLICE BRUTALITY! HELP!
” she screamed again, which only served to make the men laugh louder than ever.
Long after the two of them were gone, the men compared digital clips and photos, and by the end of the day, everyone back at the station would witness the fall of the mighty Satin Johnson.
As for Brian Lemont, it was just the beginning of trying to win her heart.
Epilogue
Martina's eyes fluttered open as she smelled wet earth, and the overpowering scent of flowers. Trying to get her bearings, she tried to place her hands down to lift herself to a sitting position, but felt her hands restrained. Though a haze, she glanced left, then right, trying to clear her vision.
Eyes finally focusing, she saw a wall of dirt to her left and right, and realized she was lying in a deep hole. Trying to sit upright again, she felt her insides quake, and she fell back to her prone position, wondering what had happened that could have put her in such a weakened state. “What the.....” she muttered, then coughed. Looking around more closely, her breath suddenly caught in her throat, and a thunderbolt of terror lanced throughout her entire being when it finally dawned on her that she was lying in a coffin, complete with an arrangement of flowers at the foot of the thing, like a person lying in state.
“Have a nice nap? You're going to be taking a much longer one soon, I'm afraid.” a familiar voice mocked from above.
Heart racing, her mind finally placed a face with the voice. “Zeke...?” she called in a weak voice, suddenly more afraid than she had ever been in her entire life.
“That's right.” the voice mocked as his face finally peered over the edge. “You know, it wasn't bad enough you and Brett couldn't leave well enough alone with an innocent family, but you just had to make it personal with me too. Tsk tsk tsk.” he chided, wagging one finger back and forth.
Whimpering with fear at what she suspected was coming, her body began shaking uncontrollably. “Brett! Granger!” she finally screamed, again trying to get up, but was still too weak. Glancing down at her hands, she saw they were cuffed in front of her. “Please,
PLEASE
don't do this to me! Anything you want, I'll do ANYTHING, just...just get me out of this....thing.”
“Imagine that, YOU wanting mercy. Wanting someone to let you go. How many people begged you and Brett to let them go, huh? And how many of them did you two show mercy to?” he asked as she saw him stand, lean down, then pick something up.
“You won't get away with this, I'm important, and people will come looking for me. If you let me out now, I'll pay you, and you can walk away.” she gasped.
Zeke's head fell back as he let out a roar of laughter, but when he looked down there was no sign of mirth on his handsome face, just rage. “Bitch, you should have made sure I was dead, when you hired those thugs to slit my throat. And you know what? I probably WOULD have died, had it not been for the burning hatred I have inside of me, for you. It's what kept me alive. So, enough of the should of's, could of's and would of 's, it's time for
you to board that one-way train to hell and join that piece of shit cousin of yours.”
“Please...Zeke...anything...I...I didn't.....Brett...he made me do everything, I SWEAR!” she sobbed.
Looking down at the trapped woman in the hole, he knew he should feel something for her, for what she was about to go through, but he felt nothing. He knew that no doctor, or no amount of prison time, could or would change her. People like Martina were born evil, and that was something time could not change. “Martina, when we were planning on how to deal with you, after you fell into our trap, I told Granger this would be free of charge.”
His admission that she been lured into a trap stunned Martina, and her eyes went wide with shock. “There's no way Granger would do this to me. Plan this kind of cruel treatment! I also know he wouldn't put that bitch Cassandra in danger, because she's the mother of his brat. He wouldn't want people to think that badly of him, that's why he pretended to love her, when he really loves ME! I'm his soul mate!” she screeched indignantly, quickly regaining her composure. Even in a hole, ready to die, she still possessed the same arrogance, and was still delusional about Granger. It seemed she would draw her last breath still obsessed with a man she could never have.
Shaking his head, Zeke said, “You really think he cares? Well, how about this! While we planned our little trap, and by the way, you're right, our plan was to stop you before you got to Cassandra and Regan, that was a misstep on our part, because we thought you would pop up as they exchanged vows. We planned on grabbing your insane ass before you could do any harm, but everything worked out, so, no harm, no foul. But I digress. Granger and I wanted to put you in a place where you wouldn't be found, and we thought of the perfect place to plant you, so to speak.” Waiting several seconds for that information to sink in, he went on. “You, my dear, are on the grounds of the old hospital your family owned, the place your demented cousin made famous. You know, where he tortured and murdered several young women?”
“I had nothing to do with that, it was......”
“Oh, I forgot, your specialty is poisoning, isn't that right? And sneaking up on unsuspecting women, bashing their brains in, then trying to steal their husbands. And you can cut the shit, you knew all about Brett's....activities. About here, and the bodies buried in his rose garden. You KNEW, and did nothing. You're just as sick, just as guilty, as he was.”
“Zeke, I.....”
“Soooooo........” he interrupted, “I thought the most fitting place for you is right OUTSIDE the memorial for all those girls he murdered, the ones you knew about. You'll be buried here, and no one will ever know what became of you.” Looking at her in silence for a moment, he carefully contemplated his next words, which he knew would be the last she would ever hear in this life. “Martina, adieu. I would say rest in peace, but I sincerely hope that your time in hell is full of pain. Say hello to Brett for me.”
Bending down, he picked up the rope he had attached to the lid of the casket.
Despite her indignant wrath only moments earlier, reality came crashing back down around her. “Zeke, you can't do this...”
Ignoring her, he tugged the rope and felt nothing as he heard the lid of the casket slam shut with finality.
Thrashing about wildly in the darkness, Martina felt her bladder go as she began to hyperventilate. As if from miles above, she heard the dim rumble of what sounded like heavy machinery operating. When she heard the first load of dirt hit the top of the casket, she opened her mouth and let out a bloodcurdling scream she was certain no one would ever hear. At least she thought she was screaming. In truth, it was just a hoarse, wheezing sound.