The Door at the Top of the Stairs (35 page)

BOOK: The Door at the Top of the Stairs
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"And you want me back…."

"Of course. After you and those cretins left me to die, Guillermo and Miguel saved my life. It's taken me over a year to find you, but God always rewards a persistent man." He casually pointed to Morgan with the hand he had draped around Ryland's neck. "We have your honest, law-abiding employer to thank for that. She was the first one to actually report your earnings to the government. Your social security number finally showed up in the computers." He laughed. "A little money, a greedy but lovely, federally employed data entry clerk, and voila! I have my little sheep again."

Jesse finally looked at Ryland, then at Morgan. "Well, here's how we're gonna do this. Guillermo and I are leaving. When we're gone, I'll give you thirty minutes to leave as well, then I'll call the sheriff. When I get a call from him that you left them in one piece, I’ll give the guns to Guillermo, and I'm yours."

"No!" Morgan pushed up from the sofa and Richard pushed the gun further down Ryland's throat. Ryland gagged, felt for Morgan's robe and grabbed it, pulling her back down to the couch.

She'd dealt with insanity before. Morgan hadn't. She was terrified.

Morgan wasn't terrified enough.

Jesse smiled a little at Morgan. She held her gaze for a long time, blinked back some tears, and nodded. "This time, you get to do what I say. When the sheriff gets here, have him call your phone in the truck. When I know you're both safe, Richard can have me." Jesse cocked her head sideways, worried more for her friends than for herself. “What more can he do to me, Morgan?"

Jesse shifted her gaze to Richard. “Absolutely nothing."

Richard nodded. "Take him and go. I don't like to be kept waiting."

Jesse stepped back and told Guillermo to get to his feet. She motioned with her chin for him to go out the front door. He stepped to the door and she said, “Wait."

She took Morgan's keys off the front table. "Gotta borrow your truck, Morg. I'll be sure you get it back, okay?" When she held Morgan's eyes, memories of the past six months came flooding back, and she wished she could say what needed to be said. She looked at Ryland and knew it would be a fatal mistake to let Richard know how much these two women meant to her. There was one thing she could do though. She turned to Richard. “Take the gun out of her mouth, Richard. I don't want to remember her that way."

"Your word, my little sheep going bravely off to slaughter."

"My word." Jesse clenched her jaw to keep her eyes from filling with tears, but one escaped just the same. She reached up and angrily wiped it away.

Richard chuckled and removed the gun.

Jesse didn’t say anything. She just held Ryland's gaze, then Morgan's, trying communicate more than
thank you
, more than
I
love you both
. She turned and motioned again for Guillermo to lead her out into the yard.

Once outside, she opened the bed of the truck, then had him get in and lie on his stomach. She tied his hands and feet behind his back with bailing wire and connected them, pulling his hands back and down to his feet and securing them together. She took another wire, wrapped it around his throat and wrapped the end of that one around his ankles. Pulling the end of one of the wires to the tailgate, she shut it in the gate to secure him in the bed. The farm had become her home, Ryland and Morgan her family. She took one last, sad look around, got in the truck and drove away.

Richard watched from the living room window. He aimed his gun at the back of Jesse's head and mimed pulling the trigger.

"Pow. You're dead, Little Sheep." He turned back to the women and grinned. “Ah, but that's too easy for her, no?" He stepped over to the little bar, picked up a bottle of sherry and three glasses, then walked back to the couch and set them on the coffee table. "A very good vintage—from Spain, I believe?" He poured them each a glass and motioned for them to take one. Ryland did as he said, but Morgan refused.

Ryland reached down, picked up the third glass and handed it to her lover. "I won't live without you, Morgan. Don't push him, please."

Richard chuckled and sipped the sherry. “Very good advice, my little lesbian. It takes very little to make me angry."

Morgan blinked back tears and took the glass.

Richard held up the glass in a toast. “To the pleasures of the flesh."

The women slowly reached up and tapped his glass with theirs. They both pretended to drink, but neither could.

Richard finished his drink and stood. “Time for me to go.

Your phones are dead. All you need to do is wait for the sheriff to arrive, and please follow your instructions. I'd hate for Jesse to hear that you're both very dead back on the farm."

He left them sitting on the couch, numb and frightened but still very much alive.

Several sheriff's cars surrounded the house a short time later.

"You in the house—come out slowly where we can see your hands."

Morgan took Ryland's hand and the two of them stepped out onto the front porch. The sheriff motioned toward some deputies who converged on the house to search it. When they'd finished, one stepped out the front door. “All clear here, Sheriff."

The sheriff told several of them to go search the barn. Morgan said, “You'll probably find a dead man down there."

The sheriff nodded. “That's what Jesse told me. She explained everything. She wouldn't tell me where she was, but I don't think she realizes you have GPS on your truck, Morgan. We're closing in on it as we speak." He opened his cell phone, dialed a number and listened a minute. When Jesse answered, he said, "I've got them.

They're not hurt."

She immediately disconnected.

Morgan realized whom he'd called and grabbed the phone from him. "Jesse?" She looked at the display.
Call ended.
She pushed send, willing Jesse to pick up the phone. The answering machine picked up, and she hit end, and then send again.

The sheriff gently took the phone from her. “She probably knows we can trace the truck phone. What she doesn't know about is your GPS. That's what we're counting on."

Morgan grabbed onto the little hope he was offering. "You've got to stop her! We can leave, and we'll be safe, but you have to find her and stop her!"

"We're trying, Morgan, but I don't think she wanted to be found. She said she had some unfinished business to attend to if she could, and if she couldn't, well...." He looked down at his boots, then back up at the two women. “She said to tell you goodbye, that she loved you, and that she'd be watching over both of you until she saw you again."

Tears fell unchecked down Ryland's face as she turned and walked back into the house. Morgan watched her go, then asked the sheriff. “When will you know, Mike? How long before you find the truck?"

"Sheriff?" A deputy walked back up the path to the house.

"One dead in the barn. Shot in the head. We're gonna need Doc Hayward and the body wagon."

The sheriff turned back to Morgan. “As soon as I know, you'll know, Morgan. I promise." He stepped to his patrol car and made the necessary calls for the Office of the Medical Examiner, who was actually just a local doctor, then made arrangements for an ambulance service to stand by to pick up the body. He spoke to the deputy. "Show me the body while we're waiting."

Morgan watched the two of them walk down the path to the barn. She followed them half-way, then turned aside and sat on the bench where she'd proposed to Ryland ten years earlier. When the sheriff returned, he sat next to her.

"Any news yet?"

Michael shook his head, then got on his radio. “Sheriff Carlson to dispatch."

The radio crackled. “Dispatch."

"Any news on Morgan's truck?"

"10-4. Highway Patrol located it about thirty miles north of here. It was empty. They said there was a lot of blood next to one of the tires—a lot of blood and some drag marks."

Morgan felt light headed. She covered her face with her hands, slowly leaned over into her friend's arms and, for the first time in many, many years, completely broke down.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Jesse waited inside the truck for the sheriff's call. When the phone rang, she grabbed it, terrified she'd hear that Richard had murdered the only people she cared about in the world.

"I've got them. They’re not hurt."

She immediately hung up, her relief so palpable she felt light headed. There was no way she would endanger their lives again by crossing Richard. The truck phone rang again, and she ignored it as she walked to the back of the truck and unwound the bailing wire she'd used to tie Guillermo. She handed him the guns and his cell phone. “Here. Call Richard."

He sneered, then put the phone on speaker. Richard picked up on the first ring. "Yes?"

"I've got her."

"Good. Now, shoot her in the leg, but make sure you miss the artery. I want to know she can't run, but I want her very much alive."

Guillermo pointed at the outside of Jesse's thigh and pulled the trigger. Jesse felt a blinding pain shoot up her spine and she crumpled to the ground.

She heard Richard laugh over the speaker. “Now, tell me where you are."

"I don't know where we are. She had me tied in back."

Jesse took off her sweatshirt, pulled her t-shirt off, then pulled the sweatshirt back on. She spoke as she tore the t-shirt into strips and wrapped them around her bleeding thigh. She knew if she didn’t get the bleeding under control, she’d be dead before Richard got there. “Tell him to go east on State Route forty-nine, then north on one-fifty for twenty miles. There’s an old billboard on the right hand side of the road. It says something about some kind of cigarette. He needs to turn right on the dirt road immediately beyond the sign. If he follows that road he’ll find us.” Guillermo relayed the message and then they waited until Richard arrived. When he drove up, the two men handcuffed her, dragged her to Richard’s car, threw her in the trunk, and drove away. They drove for several days. Once or twice a day, Guillermo would open the trunk, pour some water down Jesse's throat, and shut it again. At one stop, they opened the trunk and cleaned and re-bandaged her leg.

"I can't have my little sheep dying too soon now, can I?"

Richard smiled and gently ran his hand through her hair. "We have many, many fun times ahead of us, Little Sheep. We're almost to our room." He stepped back, and Guillermo shut the trunk again.

The next time it opened, they dragged her out and threw her down the stairs into the dirt room. Richard looked down from above. “I have to leave for a while, Little Sheep, business that can't wait. You know how that can be. Guillermo will watch over you while I'm gone, and when I return, we will begin our little talks."

Once Richard left, Guillermo began bringing her little bits of food and made her drink water to keep her alive. After the fourth day, he came down to talk, and she guessed there was no one else around to keep him entertained. He told her about his hometown in California, which surprised her since she'd assumed he was from Mexico. "You know, Richard was born in Mexico City, but his parents came to America illegally when he was seven. He worked hard in school and went to a good college. He's very wealthy, you know."

Jesse listened quietly, all the while trying to decide the best way to kill Guillermo. She began to talk, making up stories about her family even though she had none. Her plan was to lull him into a sense of security, a camaraderie where he would drop his defenses one too many times. Then she could do what she needed to do.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Morgan and Ryland were numb for the first two weeks after Jesse's disappearance, waiting and hoping she'd miraculously appear on their doorstep. Now, at Mary's urging, they were trying to return to some semblance of normal. One of the neighbors found a man to work in the barn since the horses still needed to be fed and taken care of. Mary packed up what little Jesse had left in the apartment so the new man could move in. Morgan knew something had died inside her, and as she'd watched Ryland the couple weeks, she'd seen her grow older and sadder than she'd ever thought possible. They didn't ride out in the mornings anymore. Once the new worker came, Morgan rarely went into the barn. Rico, Jeffrey, Mary and the hunt staff took care of the hounds.

The temperature had dropped several degrees overnight, and the morning air felt cold and sent a chill through Morgan as she watched her breath swirl in white clouds while she waited at the kennels for Ryland. They'd decided to take Digidy, one of their oldest and dearest foxhounds, and walk out to the cliff above the creek where Morgan had found Jesse so many months before.

Ryland’s steps were heavy as she walked around the corner of the barn carrying a backpack. She saw Morgan and smiled, holding out the pack for her to take. Morgan opened it and looked inside.

Ryland said, “I thought I'd make some cinnamon rolls and bring a thermos of coffee. I'd like to stay out there a while. It's so beautiful, even if it is cold."

Morgan reached into her pocket and brought out a box of matches. "And I hate to be cold, so I thought we'd build a fire to stay warm." She shouldered the pack and they made their way through the near pasture and on into the forest, Digidy following at their heels.

When they came to the clearing, they gathered what dry wood they could find, dug a fire pit at the top of the cliff, and built a small fire. Morgan piled rocks into a backstop, and they sat with their backs to the rocks, the fire in front of them, staring out over their valley.

Morgan pulled up her knees and rested her arms and head on them. Ryland leaned into her, slipping her arm around Morgan's while listening to the soft sounds of nature surrounding them.

Morgan spoke without lifting her head. “You believe in God, don't you, Ry?"

Ryland leaned over and rested her head on Morgan's back. “I do."

She raised her head, staring out at the valley below them. "Is He like Richard?"

Ryland didn't answer, because lately, she'd been having the same thoughts. Jesse didn't deserve to be taken the first time, and now, after she'd come through so much, God had allowed Richard to finish what he'd started.

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