Chapter 25
Well, this was a mess.
And it was a mess of my own creation. I could have been at the movies right now. I could have been literally anywhere else. But noooo, I just had to get a closer look. Shame on my ass for being nosy.
Kelli paced back and forth in front of the big screen television, her hand gripping the handle of a pistol tightly. She muttered to herself; her brows knit together in intense concentration. Somewhere in the ramblings I made out the words 'getting out of hand', and 'clean this up'.
That didn't bode well.
Ashley sat balled up on the floor in the corner with her knees hugged to her chest. Her eyes were red and distant. I tried a couple of times to make eye contact with her from my seat on the couch, but she just kept staring off into the void.
When Kelli first forced me in here at gunpoint Ashley had stood with her eyes wide, watching. After Kelli pointed the gun at her she'd shrunk down to the ground and stayed there.
I glimpsed about the room as Kelli moved, careful not to draw attention. There were a few knickknacks on the end tables, a few medium sized photo frames hung on the wall, a coatrack with a dried raincoat on it, and a table lamp. The coatrack and lamp were the most promising, but I didn't know if I could lift the rack and the lamp might not be heavy enough if push came to shove.
My pepper spray and taser were in my purse as usual but Kelli had snatched it from my hands soon after she'd dragged me inside. She'd only peeked inside to make sure my cell wasn't on my person then tossed it on the kitchen table.
That meant the only weapon on me was the pocketknife tucked deeply into my right pants pocket. The thought was...distressing because frankly, I don't want to have to stab someone. That had always seemed extra grody to me. I mean, pepper spray is one thing—even shooting someone is one thing—but forcing a sharp object into a fellow human being's flesh made my stomach turn. Could I do it if it came to that? I didn't even like touching or cutting into raw chicken. Shit feels weird!
I peered at Kelli, then looked at the gun then back at Ashley. The gun was curled comfortably between Kelli's fingers as daintily as a high-born lady might hold fine china. But no—fabulous manicure aside, those fingers had pulled the trigger once before to snuff out Noah Walker's life. I doubt she'd balk at busting a cap in my ass if it meant she got away clean.
It was decided then. If I could cut into that raw chicken when I got hungry enough, then I could cut into a raw Kelli if she absolutely makes me. For now, however, de escalation was the surest course.
But I wasn't a hundred percent sure what I was deescalating. Clearly, she's here to tie up loose ends but the police already had my file, so they knew she was involved. But did she know that yet? If she knew, would she run or kill us faster? Shooting us here would only draw attention. But if she got desperate enough it probably wouldn't matter.
She's not stupid, so all of this is surely occurring to her at the same time it's occurring to me. If I could just lead her a certain way...
"The police already know it's you." I said, my voice as steady as I could keep it considering the circumstances. "Killing us won't get you anything but a couple of extra charges."
She didn't bother to look down at me. "Shut up."
"Sorry." I made a show of shrugging like it didn't matter to me one way or the other. "I'm just saying, if I were you, I'd get my money and hop a plane to a country that doesn't extradite."
Her eyes roamed to me, cold and frightened. "I told you to be quiet!"
I checked the clock on the wall. It had been five minutes or so since I'd called 911. I read somewhere it took an average of eleven minutes for the cops to show up. That's if they know it's an emergency. In eleven minutes, she could shoot me. In eleven minutes, I could bleed out...
"Where's the laptop?" She said suddenly.
I looked up at Kelli and blinked. "What?"
"The laptop. Where is it?"
Why would she think I had it? "I don't know."
"You have to have it!" Her voice got shaky. "Just tell me where it is, and I'll let you both go."
Award for the worst liar goes to... Wait a minute. If I don't have it, and she doesn't have it, and the police don't have it, then where the hell did it go?
My eyes flashed with a quickness over at Ashley, still fetal and generally nonresponsive, but her eyes twitched my way in just such a way that I knew immediately who took it.
Son of a bitch.
"I don't have it. I thought you did honestly. And I'm a very honest person."
Eight minutes.
"Hey!" Kelli walked in two quick strides and pulled Ashley to her feet by the scruff of her collar. "You said she had it!"
Why would she say that? To save her own skin? Had Kelli come here to get the only air-tight piece of evidence against her, and Ashley threw my name out to stall for time?
A distressed shriek pulled me from my thoughts.
Kelli had gotten impatient and shoved the barrel of the gun right into Ashley's face. The younger woman began screaming hysterically at the top of her lungs.
Yes! Hopefully a neighbor hears and calls the cops.
Kelli shook Ashley like a cloth doll until she quieted down, then let her fall back to the floor. "Where is it?" She screamed it so loud the air seemed to tremble. Her back was turned to me. I weighed stabbing her now or running for it, but the gun made me second guess.
Ashley cradled her face with her hands then looked up at Kelli with wide fearful eyes. "I—I...I threw it in the river!" She said after another tense second.
"Which river?"
"San Juan."
AKA the biggest river in the city. The river that split right through the center of town. The river that started on the shores of the Atlantic in upper Burenville Beach and ended in damn near Kissimmee—which was damn near Orlando! That shit was long gone.
Maybe this could save us. Maybe learning that the evidence that could connect her not just to the murder, but to the embezzlement had been destroyed was enough for her to let us go.
Kelli stepped back, the wheels in her mind turning as she looked off and bit at her lip. After another tense second her eyes settled, and from the emotionless look on her face I had hoped in vain for a peaceful solution.
Ten minutes.
She dug around in the pocket of her slacks until she pulled free a key ring. She tossed it into my lap and then pointed the gun at my head. "You're going to drive us somewhere."
Wisdom says you never let them get you to the second location. That's double true if backup was on the way to the first location.
I could see where this was headed. There's lots of excluded wooded areas around and just outside of the city to hide a body in. And lots of gators willing to be unwitting accomplices when it comes to cleaning up. So, the only question was, did I want to die now or later? I didn't need time to consider; the choice was clear.
On my mama, I will not end up as some lazy gator's midnight snack...
...He'll just be hungry again in an hour anyway.
"If this is about the laptop," I said carefully. "You've already won. She destroyed it. Just let us go."
"So, you can tell the police!" She said with a snort.
I held her gaze, then said slowly, "Why would I tell the police anything. Noah wasn't my boyfriend. I didn't even like him. He was an asshole. Matter of fact, I'm glad he's dead."
"Be quiet!" She looked away, annoyance making her grimace. "You talk too much. All I want you to do is drive the car."
My mind spun for any response that would delay the inevitable, but Kelli simply pointed the gun at me, making it clear there would be no arguments.
Sixteen minutes.
I stood slow as I dared and looked back at Ashley. She struggled to her feet and came to stand beside me, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Kelli walked backwards until she was near the kitchen table, then grabbed my purse. The gun never wavered from its place pointed directly at my heart. I made no quick movements but from the corner of my eyes, through the sheer curtains that covered the front windows I could just make out the shape of a white car pulling up behind mine. Seventeen.
Oh, thank God.
"You don't have to do this." I said only slightly less scared. "We won't tell anyone."
She didn't respond, only gestured with the gun toward the front door. I would've bolted but she was too tight pulling up the rear for any shenanigans. With her right hand she kept the gun trained us and with her left reached for the knob—
An overly polite knock sounded on the other side of the door. "Police." The cop called. "Anyone home?"
"Help us!" Ashley screamed before Kelli could stop her. "She's got a gun!"
The cop's swear was muffled by the door. I couldn't see him, but I imagined he pulled out his own gun. Just what I needed; a second gun I could get shot with.
Feet retreated off the porch. I grew angry for a moment imagining some coward cop leaving us to our fate but realized he more likely ran back to his car to call for backup.
Kelli went to peek out of the side of the window, her fingers drawing back the curtains. After a time, all she could say was, "Fuck."
Nothing much happened inside the house for the next twenty-five minutes or so. Ashley and I were ordered to sit on the couch while Kelli continued pacing and mumbling bad plans which would only get her caught or killed. Outside was a different matter.
I hadn't been allowed to look out there, but I could tell from the movement on the other side of the curtain and the sound of several muffled voices from the street that we were surrounded by police.
Kelli had turned on the television and flipped to the local news station once it got too hot. I can't say what her thought process was, but I was grateful for the distraction. Tamika Kelly was the correspondent that Channel 4 had sent out to cover the incident. She stood in front of my goddamn car awash in police siren blue with her kinky curls defying the humidity and her hand clutched around a microphone.
"...Police have not released the names of the suspect or the hostages but what they can tell us is that they have control of the situation..."
And that, friends, is how I got stuck in a hostage situation when I should have been enjoying delicious buttery movie theater popcorn and a cherry cola—as is traditional movie theater fare.
The worst part of this hostage thing was my emotional state flip-flopping back and forth between all-consuming fear and sullen boredom. Sometimes my heart skipped realizing that Kelli could lose all control and decide to kill us all—or the cops could lose patience and roll in here guns blazing like this is the O.K. Corral and blow us all away. Other times I checked the clock, my mouth twisted in disgust for how long this was taking. At some point my phone started ringing off the hook. I'm sure that's Manny or a negotiator. Whatevs. We all just chilling over here, I guess.
But seriously, somebody needs to make a move while we're still young.
To be fair, the cops were busy securing the perimeter or whatever. Kelli was just spinning her wheels. About five minutes ago one of the cops had tried making contact with a bullhorn on the lawn but she'd ignored him. She had no demands because she didn't plan this. No matter what happened it was over for her.
"Just give yourself up." I said, hoping to talk some sense into her before she took things too far.
"Be quiet. Let me think."
I stood. "Think about what? There's no way out."
"There has to be! There's always a solution."
If that ain't some rich successful people talk, I don't know what is. I bet she was friends with the Sheriff or some shit. "Your best option is to turn yourself in."
"I can't!" She turned to me, her eyes imploring me to fix this. Ashley looked up at me from the couch behind her with the same damn look. Who do these people think I am, Olivia Pope? I only watched half a season of Scandal before I got bored with them writers trying to convince me that beautiful, smart Kerry Washington would risk her career and livelihood over fucking Tarzan! I am not equipped for this shit!
The only thing I could think to do was appeal to her self-preservation. "Kelli, listen to me. They will kill you!" And maybe me by accident. Sweet Jesus don't let them clip me by mistake!
Her eyes glazed over. She started shaking her head absently. "This is all Noah's fault..."
Relevance, your honor? "Yeah, we know. That's why you killed him."
She missed my snarkiness, thank God, and went on shaking her head like she could shake herself out of trouble. "I didn't plan on it! I just got tired of the shake down. It was never enough!" She looked off into nothing a grimace marring her good looks. "So that night, after I paid him another ten grand, I followed him here. I didn't do anything at first. I-I went back to the Ball and went home with my husband, but I couldn't sleep knowing he'd just keep coming back so I came back. But I wasn't going to kill him. I was going to tell him that I was done!"
She blinked back tears, her face an image of sorrow so potent I almost felt bad for her. But then I remembered. Sure, maybe killing Noah wasn't premeditated but let's not forget about her embezzling her campaign funds into her personal businesses and looking down on everyone who couldn't serve her in some way. Not to mention she'd left David's gun in plain sight to intentionally make the police think he did it and draw suspicion away from herself. And they were supposed to be friends.
"...But he was so disrespectful," She was saying. "And then he told me to leave but I wouldn't without a guarantee that we were through! Then he pulled the gun...and we fought...and then I had it and then...and then...I'm not a bad person." She looked at me with those insistent eyes again...
I smiled a little bit. It was tight. "Of course not." That was highly debatable. But if I have to tell this crazy bitch the sun shines out her ass just to walk out of here in one piece, I'll do it. "The police will understand." I said not at all convincingly.
She laughed. It was hard and bitter. "And the embezzling? Will they understand that?"
Why does it feel like she's more concerned about the embezzling over the murder? Methinks ol' girl's gone off the deep end.
"They might not even know about that." Whew. That stretch almost threw my back out. "The laptop's long gone and the evidence of what you've done with it."
"Really?" Lord forgive me, there was hope in that heifer's eyes.
"Let's just go. Leave the gun and let's walk out of here."
She nodded her head weakly. "Yeah, yeah. I'll tell them it was a mistake. I'll tell them I didn't mean for all this to happen."
"I didn't either." It came out in whisper.
"What?" She looked at me, her eyes searching for understanding.
My eyes roved to the police presence on the other side of the door. I snapped them back but she'd followed my gaze. "I meant...I didn't..."
She frowned. "You called the cops?"
I started babbling. "I-I uh, well—"
She snarled at me, her eyes changing from pacified to enraged in an instant. "This is all your fault!"
Everything moved so fast. Kelli, her face a mask of rage, raised the gun. My breath caught; my hand raced for the knife but deep down I knew it was futile—gun beats knife. From behind Kelli, Ashley moved as quick as a fox. I gripped the handle. The knife pulled free from my pocket. The barrel of the gun leveled with my face. I froze. Ashley pulled back suddenly. She lurched forward with all her might. The side table lamp flew straight at Kelli's head.
The lamp connected with a hollow thump. Kelli jerked forward, the gun sailed and clattered across the floor until it landed near my feet. I hesitated just long enough for Kelli to recover. We both lunged for it. I saw her arm reach out like a talon—her nails long and sharp. We collided. Our heads knocked together. The room spun. My temples throbbed. We both tumbled. I landed on my hands and knees; the knife still gripped tightly in my balled fist. My fingers reached to release the blade from the handle. It locked into place. My stomach heaved.
Kelli eyed the knife, still furious but she stood still long enough for me to reach out and snatch the gun from the floor. It felt as heavy as an anvil in my hand. My breathing got shallow. I blinked back a bad memory and kept my eyes on Kelli. I couldn't look at the gun. I couldn't point it at anyone either, but she didn't know that.
Instead, I gestured with the knife for her to get back. To my relief, she did as I said.
And then it was over.
*******
"Trouble magnet." Was the first thing Manny said to me when I saw him.
"How'd you know where to find me?" I walked up, hot, hungry, shaken, tired, irritated, and in need of a bathroom break. The police had debriefed me so to speak and given me the clear to go. "You aren't tracking me again, are you?"
He shook his head. "I got a breaking news alert on my phone while I was waiting for you. Opened the video and bam! A news anchor's standing in front of your car talking about a hostage situation."
"That must have been harrowing."
"Not more harrowing than being an actual hostage. Are you okay?"
I collapsed into his arms, tears piercing my eyes. "I was so scared." I sobbed the words against his chest.
He ran a soothing hand over the puffball that was my hair. "It's okay," he murmured. "You're safe now."
After a good cry, we moved our conversation away from the chaos and next to his pickup. We sat in the back of it, our legs hanging over the bumper. The police were still hovering, still going through the house and asking Ashley questions. Kelli was locked safely in the back of a police cruiser, all the rage knocked out of her after the police slapped those handcuffs on her. Even the news people had died down when it was clear I had no comment. I wiped at the last bit of tears trying and failing to flow down my cheeks and shivered enough though it was warm.
Manny was busy running a hand up and down my back for comfort. "Feel better?"
"Yeah." I sniffed. "Sorry I made you late for the movie."
"Forget about that. We can see it later." He leaned over and kissed me at my left temple, then tried to wipe some of the stray frizzy hairs out of my face. "Are you cleared to leave?"
"Yeah. They said I could go."
He nodded but I could clearly see the worry in his eyes. "Okay. We'll go home, relax, order in, or if you want to be alone—"
"No. Stay with me."
"Okay." He said with a nod. "You okay to drive?"
"Yeah. I can manage that."
He followed me back to my apartment where we ordered Chinese, snuggled up under my sheets with the fan blowing, and watched reruns of Married at First Glance even though he doesn't really like that show. After a while the stress of the ordeal took its toll and exhaustion weighed me down like an anchor at sea. The last thing I remembered before drifting off into a surprisingly peaceful sleep was nodding off in Manny's arms.
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