The Trees Beyond the Grass (A Cole Mouzon Thriller) (12 page)

CHAPTER 30

Day Six Ninety-One.

THE CLOCK WAS
SHOWING seven forty-seven a.m. when Cole woke, groggy, on Sunday morning. As with every morning for over two years, he woke up engulfed with the angst of sadness, loneliness…cold. He was usually a morning person, but his circadian rhythm annoyed the hell out of him on mornings like today where he had stayed out too late, but involuntarily woke up at sunrise. He and Ann had hit the Blind Tiger and grabbed a few beers before calling it a night. He couldn’t recall when they got back, but the last time he looked at his watch it was two-thirty a.m. That wasn’t a big deal, but waking at seven in the morning was like waking at five for him with the time change between the cities. He rolled back over and pushed his head under the pillow to ward off the light streaming into the room.

After tossing and turning for another thirty or so minutes, he sat up and attempted to text Ann. His eyes were crusty and coated from sleeping in his contacts. Blinking hard and then closing one eye like he was looking through a gun scope helped.

“U up yet chica?” He liked to mix his small grasp of Spanish with English in his daily life. There was no immediate response to his text, and he hadn’t expected one. With five international trips and too many years between them, he had come to know that Ann was anything other than a morning person. He had learned the hard way in Columbia when he’d delivered breakfast in bed in an attempt to get her up for a tour bus waiting outside full of other tourist to take them on a zip-lining expedition. Like a crazed, rabid raccoon or badger, she snapped, and food went flying to all parts of the room. Many ‘what the fucks,’ ‘who the hells,’ and ‘fuck offs’ later, she went silent and didn’t speak another word to him until the she had finished the first zip-line.

While waiting for a response to his text, he checked another from Pam, another friend who lived in Atlanta. She had texted earlier in the morning to just wish Ann and Cole a good time. Pam was an early, early bird, getting up at like four every morning to work out and then get back home to see her husband off to work before heading out herself. She was a workout nut and Cole loved her for it. It kept him motivated to not fall too far behind.

“Hey sexy! Thx for the wishes. CHS is perfect and we r having a blast. How r u and the man?”

Within seconds of popping off the text a response was delivered. “We r great. Missing u bunches. Grab a drink for us at Magnolia’s.”

“Will do! Ttyl, jumping in the shower.”

It was only after opening the shower’s door that he recalled the panicked call and texts from his sister during the night.
What was that all about?
He had already seen her twice the day before when he picked up and dropped off Billy. What had happened since?

It wasn’t like her to be dramatic anymore. She was pretty even-keeled since having Billy. When her ass of a husband walked out with a fellow addict, it was a maturing experience, and he was proud of the way she had handled it. Cole turned on the shower after opening iTunes on his phone to sing off-key to some song he could barely hear over the water. He would call her after he got out of the shower, but first he needed to wake up and get some caffeine in him.

Showered and having fully killed the lyrics to James Taylor’s “Steamroller,” he went in search of coffee. He still hadn’t seen or heard from Ann. It was almost nine in the morning. It wasn’t unlike her to sleep till noon, so Cole had no concerns.
Best to let the beast lie
. Slipping on some lightweight blue seersucker shorts and a yellow V-neck tee, he walked out of his room into the hall.

The closest coffee was at the Charleston Grill, but Cole was too fragile to consider a sit-down restaurant for just coffee. As he wandered through to the King Street exit, he noticed the same woman from the morning before. There was no reason for this to stand out to Cole, as far as he was concerned; she was just another guest of the hotel. Several blocks later he found a coffeehouse and grabbed the used paper from the adjoining table to catch up on the local satire.

CHAPTER 31

“ANN? ANN? ARE
you in there?” There had still been no response from Ann and it was hitting eleven by the time he decided to go to her room and see if he could rouse her. Cole was getting concerned by the lack of response, but only because he promised he would head to Mount Pleasant and visit with Jackie before heading to the rest of the family. He had already texted Jackie and his parents to let them know he might be late. Jackie had simply responded, “b careful.”

“Ma’am, did you happen to see the lady leave?” Housekeeping was outside the door when he arrived to check on Ann. The small Latino lady shook her head. “No one is in there.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I just turned down the room.”

A puzzled look crossed Cole’s face. Ann never got up early and it was certainly unlike her to not respond to a text at least by now.

“When did you get here?”

“Oh, uhm, about fifteen.”

As Cole turned to look in the direction of the elevator he thanked the lady for her assistance.

Where the hell could she be?
Ava had raised a good son and that meant walking a lady to her door. He had seen the door close before he headed back to the elevator.
Shit.
He pulled out his phone and called her number. It went straight to voicemail.
Double shit.
“Hey, this is Cole. I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing, but I’m getting worried, woman. Your flight is at three back to Atlanta and I thought we were going to hang for a little bit before your sis came to pick you up for the airport. Give me a call.” He headed back to his room, now completely worried about what could have happened to her.

Upon entering his room he shot off another text to Ann. “Dammit woman, where r u? ;-)” He added the winky face to ward off pissing her off.
No response.
He started to pick up the room some before heading to Jackie’s, gathering his socks and dress slacks from the night before. He didn’t immediately notice the envelope under his jacket when he first picked it up because he was still looking around the room. When he brought his eyes back to the bed, the bright white envelope caught his attention.

Huh? What is this?
Its exterior was blank, with no indication of what it contained. It was a small, square, wax medallion-sealed envelope. Slowly he slipped his thumb under the gap at the edge of the medallion and slid it down the seal, separating it. He unfolded the letter, noting that it was made of fibers, linen it appeared, that had been pressed together. A note card was inside, its edges slightly frayed, but square.

He flicked it open with one hand, his coat still on his other arm. It contained several lines of handwritten, cursive words.

Dear Cole,

Escape once, shame on you. Escape twice, shame on me. I will have what is mine.

I am before you…

Poinsett

What the fuck?
Poinsett?
Cole puzzled over it for a few moments. “Ann? Are you here? Did you leave this?” There was no response.
Where did this come from?
He would have assumed he’d accidently picked it up last night somewhere but for it having been addressed specifically to him.
I don’t have time for this shit. Ann, where the hell are you?
He shoved the note and its envelope into the pocket of his shorts.

Cole’s worries were getting serious. Should he call Ann’s sister and see if she had any clue where she was? He didn’t want to raise concerns. He needed to leave, and he couldn’t imagine Ann just taking off without saying goodbye.

From the door came a series of loud knocks and banging, in rapid succession. Someone wanted in and now. Cole cautiously went to the door and looked through the peep-hole. No one was there. “Hello?” There was no response. He repeated, “Hello?” Again, his greeting was unanswered. Slowly he turned the deadbolt and cracked the door. He peered through the crack to an empty hall.

CHAPTER 32

“BOO!” COLE ABOUT
shit his pants in surprise and fear as he opened the door to look out.

There before him, Ann stood wrapped in a towel, hair in a wet ponytail, grinning in her success in scaring Cole half dead by jumping around the corner.

Staring down, still trying to recover from the shock, Cole slowly looked up. “What the fuck, Ann? Shit, I almost hit you. And where have you been? I was about to call your sister.”

Jumping up and down like a sparing boxer, she bounded into the room, still smiling and giddy. “I know, I know. I got your message, Mother. Seriously, I am sorry. I couldn’t sleep. Not even the Xanex was working last night. So I hit the sauna about seven a.m. and totally passed out. Next thing you know I’m waking up and this turd was like, staring at me. My towel had fallen down and one of my nipples was showing. Should have charged the creep. I had no clue it was so late. I didn’t look at my phone until just ten minutes ago when I left. I ran up here because I knew you had to head out soon… Here I am!” A huge smile was on her face.

“Yes, here you are,” Cole said grudgingly. He had calmed down. There was no way for him to stay mad at Ann. “Well you are just lucky, sister. This man was about to leave your ass. I gots places to goes.” Cole jumped into thug talk just to show he was fine. He returned to picking up while talking to Ann. She had stopped bounding and was sitting on the edge of his bed watching him.

“I’m going to miss you, mister.” She pursed her mouth to the right as if it pained her to say it.

“I’m going to miss you too, woman. But I’ll be in Atlanta later this summer for work and we can hang. ‘Ritas?” Long ago they had established a habit of sharing a few pitchers of margaritas, without salt, and catching up. Even when they lived a few miles apart they had to at least catch each other up on their dating lives. And, with Ann, there was always plenty to talk about.

Lying down across Cole’s bed, Ann said, “Okay, I guess I can hold out till then. But promise me you’ll consider my offer.” Ann was referencing her recent offer to let him stay with her for his visits to Atlanta rather than stay in a hotel.

“Let me just see. I don’t know how much I’ll have to do while in town and don’t want to be a bother.”

Throwing up a limp arm like a drunk, Ann responded. “You are never a bother, so just hush.”

Cole relented. “I’ll think about it.”

She sat back up. “Well, I’m just glad I caught you. I was scared I had missed you. That would have sucked a big one.” Ann made large cow-sized chomps on her gum, clearly enjoying the moment.

“You had me scared, too. Next time, stop letting old men have free peep shows and answer your damn phone.”

“Awh, but Cole, you know how I do love to give a good peep show.” She pretended to offer a peep, grabbing the top of her towel and bringing it slowly down almost to her nipple while trying to recreate a Marilyn Monroe moment.

“Woman, ain’t anything I haven’t already seen.” Cole smiled playfully. Ann acted in kind and covered back up. She knew he was right and she loved it. “True man, true. I wouldn’t want to tempt you into being my baby’s daddy.” They both laughed. “Okay Jack, I’m out of here. My sister is picking me up in forty-five and we’re going to the Charleston Tea Plantation to pick tea. That’s right, she wants me to pick fucking tea on Wadmalaw Island. I drink that shit. I don’t pick it; even if it’s the only place in the country that grows it.”

Cole laughed out loud. “Oh my god, what I wouldn’t do to take pictures of that. I’d rather pick tea than subject myself to the interrogation I’ll receive at the folks’.”

“Your folks rock, shut the fuck up. Anyway, I better go. Thank you so much for the invite. The show last night was amaz-a-balls. And seeing you was okay, too, I guess.” She was playing with Cole.

“Always a pleasure, ma’am. Anytime your hooves of feet want to stomp on my Bing Crosby’s, you let me know.” Cole continued to busy himself with picking up his loose belongings and piling them into his carry-on.

Ann looked down to her feet. “I got these toes all prettied up for this trip, thank you very much.”

Looking up from organizing a pair of shoes, Cole asked, “What is that, one or two gallons of paint on those clodhoppers?”

Ann responded with feigned shock, “Ahh, bite me!”

“I would, but you would enjoy it.”

Ann looked down at her feet again with a big smile and looked back up as if looking over glasses. “Hehe, I would.” She flashed a cheeky smile in acquiescence.

“Okay, woman. Get out of here.” With that they hugged and parted. Cole threw the last of his belongings in his bag so the cleaning lady wouldn’t have to pick up behind him. Within twenty minutes he was out the door and in his rental headed to Mount Pleasant.

CHAPTER 33

THE FBI CLEARLY
had a leak. The national news had all the details…the letters, the mutilations, even the kidnapping-murder connection, plastered on their websites and broadcasts. Poinsett was loving all the press. The victims’ names were safe, for now, but the journalists had been ringing Leas’ phone off the hook wondering who would be next. Extra scrutiny had descended on the investigation and the news was now interfering with Leas’ ability to conduct his work. FBI profilers had made of list of likely characteristics: male, white, 30s, likely from an abusive background. ‘Male’ was struck off the list immediately based upon the video collected in Dallas. Within hours Leas would be on a plane to Charleston and hopefully start actually getting some real answers. Until then, Mouzon was on his own.

POINSETT SAT AT
A TABLE in Starbucks thinking about what she just heard on the news and about how she had come to this wonderful place. She had escaped her mother when child services took her at twelve years old. But she hadn’t escaped the heavy cruelty of her past. She was only in the foster home for a week before her foster dad snuck into the room and crawled into her bed with her, ignoring that two other girls slept just feet away in the same room. It would happen over and over again until she was eighteen.

Her only sanctuary was school, where she made straight As, which allowed her to go to college. Her first boyfriend, Sam, liked showing his love in openhanded servings. Her second boyfriend was always breaking things around the house, including her arms and legs.

Poinsett went back to the television. The news had it all wrong. According to them, the killer was likely a white male. The FBI was clearly not sharing all they knew. Two talking heads were on the screen discussing the murders and how the FBI handled such cases. If what they were saying was true, and she highly doubted it, the FBI would be swarming the next target now.

Soon, Poinsett would show them all that she could not be stopped, that they were helpless to save the unworthy, those who had thrown her into the abuse. The news was needed, even craved. She needed the Taker to know that they would all die. Mouzon was like all the others, a poster child of worthlessness in her eyes. Outside appearances would suggest he was the perfect Momma’s boy, with success and good looks. But behind his blondish hair, tan cheeks, green eyes, and perfect teeth, he was weak and useless to this world.

To her, that was apparent from his taking over thirty years ago.
He should have never been allowed to live. Why? Why did he do that?
He was marked like cattle for the slaughter. But a nail to the head would be too good for him. No, his death would be slow and painful like the others. He would plead for his life. He would beg her to stop. But, slowly, the coldness of death would wash over him as he watched her take his life. He would feel her pain.