Red Ochre Falls (14 page)

“When we were
little, mom warned us to be kind to others and pray hard that the curse would
miss us.” Garrett looked at me and smiled, only I was not smiling. “Don’t
worry, you should be fine. The whole story was probably made up to keep us all
in line and in church.”

Garrett lowered his
voice. “I think, if you look up,” he leaned me back onto the blanket then
stretched out next to me and stared at the sky, “on nights like this, you can
sometimes see the Great Spirit keeping watch overhead.”

My eyes practically
popped out of my head as I searched the chaos above looking for some sign of
ghosts, or the Great Spirit.

Garrett let out a
hearty laugh. “I was just kidding about the Great Spirit in the sky thing. You
just looked so intense, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Ugh!” I rolled
onto my side. “I cannot believe you. You really had me going.”

He laughed and put
his hands behind his head. I reclined and felt flush thinking of this strong,
beautiful man beside me. Garrett turned onto his side, leaned his head on his
hand, and looked deeply into my eyes. My heart fluttered. I did not know what
to do.

I wanted him to kiss
me, but was afraid I might jump his bones if given even the slightest
opportunity. What was he going to do? So many thoughts raced in my mind. Now if
I could contain my excitement and my desire, I’d be fine. Get out of your head,
girl! What was that? Get out of your head and look at that fine man staring at
you right now!

Our eyes locked,
and I felt a fiery urge. My breath caught as Garrett leaned closer. I
contemplated what I would do if he actually kissed me, only, he pulled back.

“Are you going to be
okay here tonight?”

Wondering if he was
up to something I stuttered, “I—I think I’ll be fine. Why?”

“No reason. I just
wanted to make sure you could handle staying here since I told that story.”
Perhaps, he realized it might not have been a good idea to share a ghost story
with me when I’d be alone again tonight.

Stung a bit by the
concern and not a romantic advance I huffed, “I can handle myself.”

“I’m available in
case you need anything.” He obviously didn’t buy my act for a second. “You’ve
got my number and I can be here as fast as you need me.” He smiled and turned
to get up. His hand reached out to help me up, so I grabbed it and stood up
with to him.

Being near Garrett
warmed me even though the temperature outside felt like it had dropped thirty
degrees. I shivered at a cold breeze. He moved the bag, lifted up the blanket
and shook it out. Then, as he wrapped me up in it his body tensed. I waited for
him to make a move, hoping he would grab me and kiss me passionately, just so I
would know what his lips felt like. Paradise. I imagined paradise. The electric
charge we shared lasted a few seconds, but felt like the heat of an eternal
sun.

He leaned closer
and pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “It’s getting late, let’s
clean up and head inside.”

“Mmm-hmm,” and head
nodding was all I could muster.

We got inside and
sat for a while. We talked almost an hour before a call interrupted us. We
reached for the phone at the same and laughed. I used one of my standard
greetings and took the caller’s questions while he listened. I stood up to grab
some paperwork, so I could give the caller details about a viewing. Garrett
walked over by me and waited for me to put the phone down before he touched my
hand.

“Mattie. We need to
talk about what’s going on here.”

He could have been
talking about Chloe’s case, or work, or us. It made me nervous to think about
the last part.

“What do you have
in mind?”

“We need to talk,
but I’d feel better knowing there won’t be any interruptions—phones, deliveries,
or anything else.” He pulled my arm into his and walked me to the stairs
leading up to the second floor. “Get some rest. We’ll pick up where we left off
tomorrow. Buzz me when you’re in safe, okay?” He squeezed my hand then let go.

Why didn’t he kiss
me? Should I kiss him? I didn’t want to leave, but willed myself to walk
upstairs and into the apartment. The locks clicked into place. I leaned against
the door for a moment and let out a sigh.

After I buzzed
down, and we said goodnight, I crashed onto the bed.

I counted plaster
flower patterns on the ceiling for a million seconds and wondered how my life
got to this point. My eyes moved from the ceiling to the windows that flanked
the bed. Darkness was settling around the house. I remembered I was supposed to
call mom.

When she answered,
I felt relieved.

“Hey, Mattie,” she
sounded muffled.

“Hey, mom. Is
everything all right?” I could tell something wasn’t right.

“Things are fine,
but I won’t be able to come home for a few more days.” She sighed and my heart
sank. “Grandpa admitted he missed his last two doctor appointments. Your Aunt
Eileen and I want to take him for a check-up next week. I think he really needs
to go, he fell twice since we’ve been here.”

It was important
for mom to help grandpa. I didn’t need mom as bad as he did right now. Even
though I enjoyed being independent, I missed mom and needed some advice. Maybe
Jocelyn was a better person for the kind of advice I needed, anyway. “Take
whatever time you need.”

“Will you be okay
about handling work, and school?”

“Work is going
pretty well, Hank and the guys are helpful. School starts up soon, so I don’t
expect any major projects for a week or two. Do what you need to help grandpa,
I’ll be fine until you get back.” It was hard to sound convincing, but I tried.

“Thanks, Mattie.
Make sure you keep the doors locked, and call if you need anything.” Mom and I
talked a while longer. She told me grandpa snuck a cigar into the house and
tried to smoke it near a window so no one would know. Except, Aunt Eileen could
smell it when she got back from grocery shopping, and she let grandpa have it.
When he did see his doctor, he was given strict orders not to smoke, or drink,
or have any fun, according to my grandpa.

“Sounds like you
have your work cut out for you. I miss you, but it’s good you both could be
there for him when he needs you.”

“He can be a tough
customer, but it’s a blessing to get time with him. I love and miss you, Mattie
May.” Mattie May was one of the nicknames mom gave me when I was little. I
still liked hearing it.

“I love you too,
mom. Take care and remember to rest when you can.” We signed off of our call
and emptiness filled the room.

I never got to eat
the ice cream we brought home earlier, but it would take an act of God for me
to open the door and go get it. I walked to the kitchen and checked the fridge
and cabinets. A bag of M&Ms caught my interest. I poured some milk and took
the bag with me to the bedroom.

The phone was
quiet, so I munched a little candy then picked up a book and read for a while.

Part of my bedtime
ritual included washing my face, brushing my teeth and reviewing my to-do list.
Writing things down helped me unload what was in my brain, to help me sleep
easier. I added milk to the grocery list then paged over to the section
dedicated to Chloe’s case.

There were notes
all over, and a suspect list in the left margin. I scribbled some notes about
our meeting with Tess, and made a note to research Ruggiano. My mind wandered
to the story about Samuel Davis. I wondered what it must have been like to be
Amelia—first engaged to Davis, then kicked to the curb, then shuttled
from house to house with her sister while her ex-fiancée made a life with her
cousin. What happened between Amelia and the Indian boy? I started to
contemplate it when the phone startled me.

My hands searched
the nightstand for notes on our current “guests” while I did my best to
politely greet the caller.

“Did you forget
what I said?” I froze. It was the same hard-edged voice that warned me before.
“If you need a reminder, look out your front door. It’s just a little something
to show you that I can get to you anywhere.”

I stifled a cry.

“If you don’t stop
asking questions, you’ll be next,” he threatened me, and then the line went
dead.

Dial tone changed
to annoying beeping, followed by a recording of an operator asking me to hang
up and try again. I dropped the phone. My arms clutched my waist. I bent over
to get air, and tried not pass out breathing heavy for a few minutes. After
some slower, longer breaths, I calmed down enough to walk over to the window.
There was no indication a maniac stood outside, but I couldn’t see much. I
walked back to the bedroom and reviewed my options. Hide under the covers until
someone found me, or go out swinging.

I was scared, but
needed to find out what the crazy guy left. Plus, I only noticed one phone line
lit up when I answered the stalker’s call—an indication that the bad guy
was outside the building, otherwise, two lines would be lit. Good news. So, I
grabbed my Louisville Slugger from under the bed, slipped on my tennis shoes
and walked from the bedroom to the living room, and over to the front door by
the stairs.

My hand grabbed the
doorknob. I exhaled every ounce of breath I could, looked up to say a quick
prayer, and turned the knob. I opened the door slowly. It creaked, so I
stopped.

I pushed it open
even slower. I don’t know why, but being quiet seemed like it might protect me
somehow. The door opened enough for me to peek out. I still couldn’t see
anything. I stuck my head and shoulders out as far as possible, without
actually stepping out of the apartment. Nothing happened. A good sign, I hoped.
The house sounded quiet, so I put two feet out the door. With one hand on the
curved railing, and another on my wooden weapon, I moved down the staircase.

Pound, pound,
pound, pound, pound!

“Ack!” I jumped.
He’s trying to get inside! Should I run upstairs, or stay still and hope no one
hears me? I couldn’t decide.

Pound, pound, pound,
pound, pound! It came again as my heart thudded. I turned to run when I heard
him.

“Mattie! Are you in
there?” It was Derek. I reversed and took a few hesitant steps toward the
bottom of the stairs. “Is everything okay?” He sounded worried out there. Maybe
he’d run into the freak trying to scare me to death. I should let him in for
his own safety.

Two enormous wooden
doors were closed in front of me. Beyond them were the two outer glass doors,
locked for extra security, and beyond that was Derek. He’d been friendly to me
and was concerned now, so I responded in kind.

“Yes,” my voice
cracked. ‘Yes, I’m here. Give me a minute.” I set my bat down and worked the
locks. As soon as the first set of heavy wooden doors opened, I saw him.

Derek stood on the
front stoop holding a huge floral spray of dead roses. I had to will my eyes
back to Derek, so I wouldn’t go catatonic thinking about the dead flowers, or
the bad guy who brought them to my doorstep.

I twisted the metal
key inside the lock until it clicked. Derek helped open the door, and stepped
inside. He stood there with the flowers and looked at me intently.

“I saw a strange
van pull up. A really big guy in a ball cap got out and put these on the front
stoop. He got back in the van and left, which was when I noticed the flowers
were dead. Something didn’t seem right, so I came over to check on you.”

“Thanks. How did
you see all that?”

“My dad had me
taking care of some last minute details for a viewing next week. We needed to
restock some supplies.” He looked around and shifted uncomfortably for a
minute. “Actually, I was unloading toilet paper from my car when it happened.”

I stifled a laugh.
Derek turned three shades of red. “I figured you were over here, and might need
help. The look on your face when you opened the door says I was right.”

“Yes,” I admitted.
“I’m glad you came. I got a strange call. Some guy told me to look out my front
door for a package. I guess he left these.” I took the flowers and looked them
over. No card, no note, just dead flowers and a black ribbon.

“If you want, I can
help you look around and make sure everything is secure.” Derek seemed
harmless, and I wasn’t about to do it myself, so I invited him the rest of the
way inside. “I can pitch those, unless you want them for something.”

“I don’t want
them.” They were dead, they stank, and it scared the crap out of me to look at
them. I gave them back to Derek. The stranger who left them knew exactly what
he was doing, because there wasn’t a note, and who would question dead flowers
at a funeral home over a holiday weekend anyway? I’d make sure to tell Garrett
and Ryder, but there didn’t seem to be much else I could do.

“Let’s get rid of
these and then make our rounds,” he suggested. I walked him all the way through
the funeral parlor and out the back door.

“It’s over here.”
We headed over to a large metal dumpster.

Derek lifted up one
of the rubber lids and tossed the flowers in with the rest of the garbage. “All
gone.” He brushed his hands off.
 
“Now let’s check out the rest of this place.”