In Their Blood (38 page)

She left the volume on her iPod turned up, but went to stand at her bedroom door. She opened it a crack and listened. The house was perfectly quiet.

It was her imagination. If someone had come in, she couldn’t have heard anything with the music blasting and her door closed. She was overreacting because Dwight had spooked her. Then why was her heart racing?

She stepped barefoot into the hallway, moving along the wall. At the banister, she stopped, her back against the far wall so she couldn’t be seen from downstairs. And then she heard it. The softest clink of metal, like a belt buckle. And then she felt it. A presence that sucked up the air around her. She became chilled and sweaty and light-headed. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.

She ducked as she darted past the landing and ran into her parents’ room, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could.

The murderer was back. Just as she’d always known he would be. What to do? Where to hide? Had he heard her come in here?

Someone was climbing the stairs— slow, heavy. She was breathing too loudly. Could he hear her through the door? She covered her mouth.

The footsteps stopped. Please, please go away.

It seemed like forever. She was shaking so hard, she had to clench her jaws to keep her teeth from chattering.

Then she heard movement. He was going away, down the hall, toward her bedroom.

Her parents’ bedroom was almost pitch-black. She darted under the oversized skirted chair in the corner, curled up in a little ball, and squeezed her eyes shut. If she couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see her.

Her nest smelled dusty, stale, a bit like Geezer. But she could smell something else.

A paralyzing fear crept over her. She was remembering.

The foyer, it was dark. So dark. And it smelled metallic, smoky.

Carlos was shouting at her. “Come on, Elise. Let’s go. I’m leaving.”

A shadow moved. A shadow without a face— no nose, no mouth, no hair, just bulging eyes. Bug eyes. Staring at her. But she couldn’t move.

Your mama’s calling you.

And now she remembered running up the stairs shouting.

Mommy, Daddy. Mommy, Daddy.

Their bedroom door was open. The footsteps were closer.

Now? Then? It was all mixed up in her head.

Don’t turn on the light. Don’t turn on the light.

But suddenly brightness flooded the room. Elise screamed.

Mommy, Daddy.

Where were they? Why was everything splattered with red paint? Red paint and strewn garbage. All over the bed, on the walls, the floor. Everything such a mess. Their pretty, neat bedroom such a mess.

Mommy, Daddy
?

Her mother’s hand. Her mother’s hand was reaching for her.

I promise I’ll never leave you.

“Mommmeeeee,” she screamed.

Someone was pulling her. Pulling her out of her nest.

She stared at their bed. The mess was gone. The blood was gone. Her mother’s hand was gone.

The light went out. Someone gripped her, wrapping his arms around her, whispering in her ear, his breath foul. “Your mama’s not calling you anymore.”

Chapter 56

Jeremy saw the light on in Elise’s bedroom. He jumped out of Robbie’s car before it had come to a full stop and raced to the front door. Unlocked. He pushed it open, hesitating for a split second before running up the stairs, his father’s gun in his hand.

“Elise,” he shouted.

In the distance, he could hear music— the soundtrack from
Rent
.

The door to his parents’ bedroom was open, the room dark. Jeremy braked, realizing he was backlighted to the murderer. He ducked down, pulling the door shut behind him, closing himself and his parents’ murderer into a tomb of darkness.

Please, Ellie. Be safe.

His heart was pounding wildly in his chest.

A movement gave away Bud’s location; near the window by the head of the bed. What had he done with Elise? What was he planning?

Jeremy could hear two sets of breathing, one rough and labored, the other rapid, light. Elise. She was alive.

Jeremy crept along the edge of the room and felt the wall just above the baseboard. His hand touched the emergency flashlight that his father kept in each of the bedrooms. He pulled it out of its outlet, pointing it toward a vague shadow, the gun in his other hand.

He flicked on the switch. A beam of light fell across his parents’ bed. Across his sister.

She was lying on her stomach wearing only panties and a tee shirt. Her feet and hands were tied, a gag in her mouth. Her eyes were terrified.

Bud stood over her, a gun pressed against her head, a worn leather strap in his other hand.

“Jeremy, my boy. Glad you were able to make it.” Bud flicked the strap in the air, causing the gun to press harder against Elise.

Jeremy felt an uncontrollable rage toward this monster. This monster who had killed his parents, Marina, and now, what had he done to his sister?

Jeremy aimed the gun, still holding the flashlight in his other hand. He had a clean shot, but if he fired, Bud would pull the trigger of his own gun and kill Elise.

The monster was grinning. “Game ain’t much fun without the queen, is it, boy?” Perspiration was running down Bud’s cheeks, into his eyes, but he didn’t wipe it away. He cracked the belt in the air like a whip. Whap, woosh, clank. The buckle swung at the free end.

“I don’t reckon you kids ever felt the sting of a strap on your sweet, tender, rich little asses? No, not you. Not in your world. You have no idea what it’s like growing up in shit. Comin’ from nothin’. Just your daddy’s beatings to get you going. You and your sister and your mama— y’all think the world’s a tough place when your cable TV’s broke or you can’t get an Internet connection.” Bud’s eye was twitching, his accent growing thicker. “Y’all don’t know, don’t understand. When ya pull yourself up out of a shit pile and make somethin’ of your life, you ain’t gonna let nobody take it ’way from you. Ya hear me? Ya hear what I’m saying?” He snapped the strap; it came down across Elise’s butt with a thwump and she let out a muffled cry.

“Damn you, Bud,” Jeremy shouted, stepping closer. “You want to hit someone, hit me. Or do you feel powerful like your daddy when he whipped you? Come on, Bud. Hit me. What kind of chess game is it— all queens against all pawns?”

Bud threw his head back and laughed. His movement changed the angle of his gun so it pointed away from Elise.

Jeremy fired. The sound reverberated in the room.

“What the fuck?” Blood spurted from Bud’s shoulder. He seemed momentarily stunned by the sight, as though the blood couldn’t possibly be his.

Pain. Jeremy wanted this monster to feel pain. He fired again, catching the top of Bud’s ear, spraying blood as if from a broken sprinkler head over Elise.

The second shot reawakened the stunned ogre. “Fuck,” he bellowed as he raised his gun toward Jeremy. “You fuck with me, boy?”

Jeremy flicked off the flashlight and dove over his sister, firing into the space where Bud stood. The echo settled into silence. Had he missed?

And then, Jeremy saw a flash followed by another deafening bang. Jeremy’s gun flew out of his hand. It felt like someone had driven a stake through his palm as warm liquid pulsed out.

The monster was just above him. A thick moving shadow.

Elise shifted beneath him, her body trembling uncontrollably.

Take care of your sister.

Whap, woosh, clank. The strap stung Jeremy’s back and a searing pain cut into his neck. The belt buckle clanked.

Jeremy reached his bleeding hand toward the sound. He caught the belt buckle, holding tight as he jerked it out of the monster’s hands. Jeremy thrashed the strap wildly at the shadow just above him. Whap, woosh. Whap, woosh. Whap, woosh, thwump. Bud yelped like an injured dog. “Mother fucker.”

Something hard smashed into Jeremy’s head. He felt himself falling, falling into darkness.
Hold on
, a voice in his head said.
You can do it.

His father was shouting from the sidelines, jumping up and down.
Come on, Jeremy. Faster, faster. Beat ’em. You can do it. You can do it!

Jeremy ran, faster, faster. His heart pounding through his chest, his breath coming in short gasps. And when he broke through the finish line, gagging and dizzy and ready to collapse, his dad was there, hugging him tight. So tight.

I’m proud of you, son.

Running feet. Running feet getting closer as he floated away.

“Dad,” he called, as he felt the weightlessness. “Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Freeze. Police.”

As he floated into brightness. Movement, blurs. Everything in motion.

“Freeze. Police.”

Something hard and cold against Jeremy’s forehead.

“Drop the gun, McNally.”

Ellie trembled beneath him.

Take care of your sister.

Jeremy stared into the brightness. The shadow took form. Blood covered McNally’s face, skin hanging in flaps, rage in his eyes. And pain. The monster was in pain.

He pressed the barrel harder into Jeremy’s head.

Jeremy had caused the monster pain.

“Drop the gun, McNally,” someone shouted. “Fuck you all,” Bud McNally said, blood spilling out of him. His hand was shaking, as though engaged in an intense arm wrestle. Slowly, slowly, the gun turned away from Jeremy. Bud fought it, fought the movement as the barrel of his gun turned toward his own face, into his mouth.

His mother’s breath was warm against Jeremy’s cheek, her voice a whisper in his ear.
I promise I’ll never leave you.

A single shot rang out.

McNally’s brains splattered on the clean white wall.

They formed a curious image.

Like that of a falling chess king.

Epilogue

Geezer was covered with shampoo. He looked from Jeremy to Elise with a distressed expression. Then he shook his body, and water and suds went flying everywhere in their grandfather’s kitchen.

“I thought you knew how to give him a bath,” Elise said, laughing.

Jeremy marveled at that. Elise laughing. The bruise on her cheek where Dwight had hit her was gone. How much longer would the scars of the last few months take to fade? Elise had been going to therapy regularly since the trauma in their parents’ house, but Jeremy doubted she would ever completely get over the memory of seeing her parents’ mutilated bodies that night and the horror of almost being killed herself.

“I suppose I should cut you some slack.” Her stutter was miraculously gone. “You do only have one useable hand.”

“Thank you.” Jeremy glanced down at his bandaged hand. The bullet had punctured an artery, broken a bone, and torn up a ligament, but the doctor assured him he’d be good as new in a few weeks. Though taking up the violin wouldn’t be a smart idea.

Elise pulled the hose attachment out and ran warm water over Geezer’s back, careful to keep the soapsuds out of the dog’s eyes and ears. She lifted Geezer’s loose skin and washed away all of the shampoo.

Elise had moved in with their grandfather in Coconut Grove.

Their parents’ house on Lotus Island was on the market, but as the real estate agent pointed out, it would likely be a while before it was sold, and then probably to a foreign investor who didn’t know, or care, about the house’s history.

After Dwight’s disbarment, Jeremy and his grandfather had successfully petitioned the court for joint guardianship of Elise. Judy Lieber called from time to time to keep them informed of the case. The SEC had taken over, and Liliam Castillo, CEO and majority shareholder of Castillo Enterprises, had been indicted for stock fraud and her involvement in an extensive money laundering scheme. “Imagine,” Lieber had said one day. “Liliam Castillo continues to vehemently deny any knowledge of the drug operations. She says she was tricked.”

“Does anyone believe her?” Jeremy had asked.

“Are you kidding?” Lieber had said.

There were voices on the porch. Robbie and their grandfather had returned.

“Okay, Geezer.” Jeremy towel dried the dog, then placed him gently on the floor. Geezer gave another shake.

Elise pushed her sleek dark hair behind her ear. She’d recently cut it, and the resemblance to their mother was more pronounced than ever. “What about his next bath?” she said.

“You don’t really want to rely on me for Geezer’s next bath, do you? He gets pretty damn stinky.”

She wasn’t smiling. “I’ll miss you.”

“I know, Ellie.” He kissed the top of his sister’s head. “I’ll miss you, too.”

The old Corvair sparkled in the sunlight. Robbie was wearing shorts and a tee shirt, no makeup, but she was as beautiful as ever. She had gotten her cast off recently and her right leg hadn’t yet regained all its muscle and definition. Jeremy hoisted her suitcase into the trunk
and slammed it closed. With the imminent collapse of Piedmont, Coleridge, and Miller— once the twentieth largest CPA firm in the country— Robbie had decided to take a break from the business world.

Jeremy’s grandfather was rubbing his cheek. He had on a clean shirt, and the thick lenses of his eyeglasses shone with clarity. Jeremy extended his hand, but his grandfather pulled Jeremy against him. “You and Robbie come back to us safe.”

Jeremy was reluctant to let go of the man who once carried him high on his shoulders so he could see the world from a fresh perspective. “We will, Grandpa.”

Elise’s eyes were bright with tears. His little sister.

He ran his fingers through her hair, missing the weight of her long thick braid. He imagined she felt freer without it. The umbilical cord finally cut.

Always take care of your sister,
his mother had said.

Well, he’d done the best he could. Now it was time to take care of himself.

He and Robbie climbed into the car and pulled away. He could see his sister and grandfather in the rearview mirror, waving good-bye.

The silence felt heavy and awkward as he fumbled for a tape.

“What’s that?” Robbie asked.

“Something my dad used to play.” Jeremy popped the old tape into the cassette deck. “He loved classical music.”