Final Call (17 page)

Chapter Thirty-six

Mary woke when water was tossed in
her face. She sputtered awake and realized she was freezing cold and hanging by
her arms in the basement of Winneshiek Theater.

She looked around, there was a
light shining directly on her and the rest of the brick basement was in shadows.
Water was pouring from a hose placed directly above her, flowing down her body.
She could tell someone was standing, just beyond the light.

“What the hell do you think you’re
doing?” she demanded.

Rodney stepped forward, a strange
grin on his face. “I’m in charge,” he said in a sing-song voice. “I’m in charge
and no one is going to stop me.”

“Fine,” Mary said. “I don’t want to
stop you; I just want to dry off.”

He sighed heavily. “But you did
want to stop me,” he said. “You were talking with Auntie Faye and you were
trying to stop me.”

Mary felt even colder. “You killed
Faye McMullen.”

Faye appeared. “Rodney! Rodney
killed me? He’s got more guts than I gave him credit for.”

“She gave me that stupid job,” he
said.
“Junior Executive.
She told me I had to learn
the ropes.”

He giggled. “I guess I showed her I
learned the ropes all right. I snuck in and waited for just the right time.
Then I tied her arms together and put the noose over her neck. She begged me to
stop.
Begged me to let her down.”

“I didn’t beg,” Faye emphasized, “I
bribed. There’s a big difference. I never beg.”

“Why would you want to kill your
aunt?”

“Because she wasn’t going to let me
be in charge,” he whined. “No one ever lets me be in charge. Not my mother, not
Auntie Faye, not Mr. Middlebury, no one has ever let me be in charge, so I
decided to take charge.”

“Oh, what a whiner,” Faye said.
“Rodney let Mary go, you are being troublesome.”

“Rodney, your aunt is here with
us,” Mary said. “She wants you to let me go.”

He looked around the basement. “I’m
glad she’s here. She can watch what I’m going to do to you. I’ve been waiting
for you, Mary,” he said. “First I put a bomb on your toilet and then I came
here to wait.
Just in case.”

“He put a bomb on your toilet?”
Faye exclaimed. “Well that’s just disgusting!”

He chuckled again. “She’s going to
see how I can take charge with you. Get it?
Charge?”

“No, I don’t get it. What are you
planning on doing to me?” Mary asked.

“Have you ever watched
Lethal Weapon
?” he asked. “No, of
course, you haven’t because girls don’t watch those kinds of movies.”

He moved closer and grabbed the
front of her shirt, a fistful of material in each hand and tore it open. Her
skin was exposed from the waistband of her jeans to her bra. He touched her
stomach and she tried to pull back. “I just wanted to be sure it was nice and
wet,” he said, running his hand over her abdomen again.
“Nice
and wet.”

“In the movie they hang Riggs by
his arms, like I did to you,” he explained. “Then they have water dripping over
his head, just like yours. Then they have battery cables attached to a charger
and they touch them to his wet body because they want to torture him.”

“Mary, I’m so sorry,” Faye said.

He looked up at Mary. “I don’t want
to torture you; I just want to kill you.”

“Well, that’s a comfort,” Mary
said, trying desperately to figure a way out of this mess. “But aren’t you
afraid I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life?”

He shook his head and smiled at her.
“I was hoping you would,” he said. “I’m pretty lonely and I’d like the
company.”

He turned away from her. “Now where
did I put that charger,” he asked himself. “Oh, there it is.”

He rolled a charger forward from
the corner of the room. Mary’s heart raced as she watched him attach a large
sea sponge to the positive clip of the charger. “They did it just like this in
the movie,” he explained. “On this side, I can just slide it on your skin,
wherever I want the pain to go. And the negative side gets clipped to your
skin.”

He looked down at the jaws of the
negative clip. “It’s probably going to leave a mark,” he said. “But really,
since you’re going to die, it shouldn’t matter.”

“So, how did Riggs get out of the
situation?” she asked, looking around the room. “Since there was a movie marathon,
I have to assume he survived.”

The flowing water was creating a
puddle and Mary hoped that the cold concrete and water would cause the floor to
be slick.

Rodney giggled. “Do you think I’d
tell you?” he said. “Do you think I’d give you a clue how to survive?”

“Seems like the sporting thing to
do,” Mary said. “After all, I survived the exploding toilet.”

“Yes, you did,” he said, dropping
the clips to each side of his body. “I have to say you impressed me. Even
Murtagh
had to have Riggs help getting out of that one.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Mary
said with a smile.

Rodney was intrigued; he moved
closer. “Sure,” he said.

Mary leaned forward and whispered.
“You know, those movies,
Lethal Weapon
?”
she said.

He came even closer. “Yes?”

Mary lifted her legs, grabbed
Rodney’s head with her knees and swung him to the side with all her might. “I
saw them too,” she yelled.

Rodney slid backwards and nearly
tripped, but regained his footing on the slick concrete floor. “That wasn’t
nice,” he yelled, “that wasn’t nice at all.”

He rushed her, the two ends of the
charger outstretched. Mary twisted her body, but he was able to make contact
with the clips and a sharp pain coursed through her. She screamed and twisted
again, kneeing him in the nose. He jumped back, wiping the blood from his face
with his sleeve.

“I’m going to make you pay for
that.”

Panting heavily, Mary gathered her
strength. Another jolt
like
that and she wouldn’t have
a whole lot of fight left.

“Mary, the hose,” Faye called out.
“The hose is behind you.”

She twisted slightly and discovered
she could just about reach the hose.

Rodney moved in, slower this time,
the clips in his hands stretched forward. Mary swung herself toward him and
kicked him in the arm, forcing herself back towards the hose. She tried to grab
it with her legs, but it slid out of reach.

“My turn again,” he yelled,
clipping the negative side to her waist and jabbing her with the sponge. She
screamed again, kicking out blindly.

She kicked the charger and it
wobbled, Rodney jumped back to catch it before it fell. “You nearly ruined it,”
he yelled. “You’re not supposed to do that.”

He approached her again, circling
from the other side. Her breath was coming in gasps and her body throbbed with
pain. She twisted to face him.

“Come on, Mary,” he said. “If I do
it from the back you won’t know what hit you.”

“I’m not a coward like you,” she
spat. “I can face it.”

“I’m not a coward,” he yelled.

“You’re worse than a coward,” she
said. “You’re a spoiled brat and a momma’s boy. You never earned anything in
your life.”

“I did, I did earn it,” he said.
“I’ll show them and I’ll show you.”

He ran towards her. Mary pulled her
legs together, lifted them and aimed for the middle of his chest. His momentum
swung her back far enough to grab the hose with her leg. She swung around, the
hose spewing a strong stream of water, catching Rodney in the face. He screamed
and stumbled back against the charger. The charger tipped and Rodney fell with
it into the large puddle on the ground. Mary heard the snap of electricity and
heard Rodney’s cry of pain before the power went out and she was left hanging
in the dark.

Chapter Thirty-seven

When he couldn’t reach her on her
cell phone, Bradley sped to Mary’s house. It was only eight-thirty in the
morning. She had to still be home. He dashed up the stairs and threw open the
door. “Mary,” he yelled. “Mary, where are you?”

“Well, Bradley, good morning,”
Rosie said, standing next to the kitchen table in her house robe. “I don’t
think we were expecting you.”

“Where’s Mary?” he asked.

“She’s gone. She left early this
morning,” Rosie said. “She took the Roadster.”

Bradley pulled out his phone and
pressed the walkie-talkie button. “I want an APB out on Mary O’ Reilly, last
seen driving that damn Roadster of hers,” he said.

He closed the phone and was ready
to leave when he noticed Rosie had a strange look on her face. “Rosie, are
you...?”

He followed her gaze and saw the
dining room window was fogging up. Then an invisible finger started to write.
W-I-N-N

“Winneshiek,” Bradley called. “Got
it, thanks Mike.”

Lights flashing and sirens blazing,
Bradley drove toward the theater.

Mary couldn’t stop shaking, whether
from the cold or the shock, spasms coursed through her body. Her arms were
going numb and she didn’t know how much longer she was going to be able to
remain conscious.

She tried to listen to hear if
Rodney was moving around. Was he unconscious? Was he dead? Or was he just
waiting for another opportunity to strike?

A light began to glow in the corner
of the room. Mary held her breath waiting for the next terror to befall her.
“So, Mary, just hanging around?”
Mike asked, as his glowing
spirit appeared next to her.

“I really hate your sense of
humor,” she stammered, her teeth chattering. “But I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Oh, honey, you look rough,” he
said. “Just hang in there,
er
, sorry again. The cavalry
is just around the bend.”

He looked around. Although his
abilities were limited, there had to be something he could do. He spied a
wooden crate lying against the wall. Concentrating with all his might, he was
able to slide it along the floor and up next to Mary. “There sweetie, will that
help?”

Mary stepped on to it, her legs
were shaking, but she was able to retain her balance. “Oh, Mike,” she
stuttered. “That’s so much better. Thank you.”

He stood next to her, looking at
the bruising on her face and her stomach. There was an angry red burn at her
waist line and he felt like murdering whoever had done this to her.

“Do I look that bad?” she shivered.

He shook his head. “No I was just
admiring your outfit,” he said, looking at her soaking clothing and ripped
shirt. “Although I have to admit it’s a bit obvious for my taste.”

“Yeah, and I’d prefer something a
little warmer,” she stuttered.

They both heard the pounding on the
door. “I don’t think the electronic lock works when the power is out,” Mike
said. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”

Mary heard a loud crash and the
splintering of wood. “I don’t think Deb is going to be very happy about this,”
she said.

“Mary,” Bradley yelled. “Mary, are
you here?”

She tried to stop the trembling
enough to catch her breath, but she couldn’t gather the strength. “Down...here,”
she stuttered softly, “in the basement.”

She turned to Mike, her frustration
evident. He saw a large metal pipe on the wall and pushed it so it clattered loudly
down the stairs.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

The bright beam of a flashlight hit
Mary squarely in the eyes, and she turned away.

“What the hell?” Bradley exclaimed,
rushing to her. “Mary, what did he do to you?”

“Electric shock treatment,” Mary
supplied, her voice shaking with cold, “from
Lethal Weapon I
, seems it was one of his favorite movies.”

He moved the flashlight around the
floor, finally resting on Rodney’s body, still and stiff on the floor.

“I guess he misjudged his
opponent,” he said.

Mary sighed. “They always do.”

“Is there enough room on that crate
for two?” Bradley asked.

Mary slid over and nodded. Bradley
climbed up next to her to cut her arms down. She felt warmth emanating from his
body and leaned against him.
Just for
survival
, she told herself.

“Where’d you get the crate?” he
asked, murmuring into her hair as he worked through the rope.

“A present from Mike,” she said. “He
arrived just a few minutes ago.”

“Mike’s a good guy,” he said.

Finally, cutting through the rope,
he slowly lowered her arms and then rubbed her wrists to get the circulation
going again. “Ouch, that hurts,” she complained.

“Yeah, I bet it does.”

He climbed off the crate and held
out his hand to help her down. She shook her head. “I don’t think I can do
that,” she stammered.

He lifted his flashlight again and
took a good look at her. Her lips were blue and her skin tone was pale white.
He saw the bruising and the burns Mike had seen earlier. Then he turned her and
saw the angry red puckered lines of old scars crisscrossed on her back.

“Exit wounds,” she said softly.
“Killed my chances at winning any swimsuit competition.”

He looked up at her and saw her
embarrassment. “If you were in a bikini, I don’t think they’d be looking at
your back.”

She blushed slightly and he was
glad to see a little color return to her face. He took off his coat and wrapped
her inside it. “Lean towards me, sweetheart,” he whispered and scooped Mary up
in his arms. “I know you hate hospitals, but this time you have to go.”

She shook her head. “No, please,”
she could barely speak; the tremors were getting so strong.

“They have a big, hot Jacuzzi
bath,” he promised. “And they will warm you up and take care of your burns.”

“I don’t have burns,” she said.
“I’m too cold.”

“Can you just trust me?” he asked.

“That was never the problem,
Bradley,” she stammered, as her eyes finally closed in exhaustion. “You just
never trusted me.”

He carried her upstairs. “We’re
going to need a paramedic downstairs and a forensics crew before we turn the power
back on.”

An ambulance was waiting outside
the door. “She stays with me,” he said, climbing into the back with Mary still
in his arms.

The crew closed the door and
climbed in the front, leaving Mary and Bradley alone for the short ride to the
hospital. He gathered her closer, trying to stop the trembling and tenderly pressed
a kiss on her forehead. “What the hell am I going to do about you?” he
whispered.