“Freeze! Police! Put your hands in the air and turn around, very slowly!”
Nothing happened. No movement. No sound. Even the security alarm siren had been turned off. Even the storm was quieter. But Joyce couldn’t peel her eyes off the shadow still standing in the office doorway to look out the window. The shadow wasn’t moving, but Joyce was afraid if she looked away, the instant she looked back the shadow would be a solid man. A solid man with a gun and not afraid to use it.
“I said, hands in the air and turn around! The house is surrounded. You’re not going to fight your way out of here, so just be smart.”
“Jason, we…”
“Don’t fucking say my name.”
And in an instant, the shadow turned as swiftly as a large predatory cat pouncing on its prey.
Boom!
Time froze.
It just couldn’t be real. Joyce had to be dreaming. She did not just hear a gun go off inside her own home! She did not just hear a body slam into the open doorframe and land halfway inside her office with only a gloved, twitching hand visible from their hiding place. Blood was not creeping under the door towards them.
It was a dream. A horrible dream. It had to be.
Quickly approaching feet startled her, lifting her gaze from the growing pool of blood to the new shadows growing on the office wall. Some moved back towards the stairs, another hunched down over the bleeding body, then spoke into a radio requesting medical assistance. The shadow stood, then gingerly stepped over the body, pistol held at the ready, but as soon as the seasoned officer saw Joyce and Avery entangled and cowering against a filing cabinet, he quickly holstered his pistol.
“Ms. Peterson, Ms. West. Are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?”
Joyce’s voice quivered, as she answered, “No.”
“Okay, let’s get you both out of here.” He held a hand out to them, but neither of them moved an inch. “We have secured the premises. You’re safe now.” He reached his hand out further, waiting for one of them to grip it so he could help them stand, but they remained planted where they were.
Joyce’s eyes fell on the hand on the floor, peeking out from the door and the oblong pool of shimmering crimson life oozing from its host. She cleared a lump of emotion from her throat, and asked, “Is he dead?”
“No, just unconscious.”
Paramedics arrived and the officer stepped closer to Joyce and Avery to give them room to move Jason from the floor to a hard, plastic transport board.
As lightning struck, the sounds of the storm returned to her ears, and it was like a cattle prod to her brain, and Joyce quickly said, “Heath. Heath Gunderson is in trouble. You have to locate Heath.”
“What do you mean?”
The officer stepped forward, lifting his hand to his radio, preparing to relay a message.
“We heard them talking. They said, ‘If everything goes as planned, he should be having a neck-breaking accident right about now.’ I don’t know where. If at home or… We gave Heath a couple of postcards we found that may be a clue to where the Mickey Tulare jewels were stashed. That’s what they were here for. Information. We don’t have any other information. Bent Neck Falls – that’s where we think they are. There or the five miles between there and Route 7 where it bends adjacent to the bend of Milton Street. Albertsons – Heath said they are dangerous too.”
Joyce knew she was speaking too quickly and not in the best sentences she had ever constructed, but it was the best she could do. She was still shaking, and even if the immediate threat to her and Avery had passed, she was still terrified out of her wits.
“Okay, one moment.”
He followed the paramedics and Jason’s strapped body out into the hall, carefully stepping over the puddle of smeared blood.
Avery slowly lifted her head from Joyce’s shoulder and loosened her grip on her back, only slightly. Her eyes locked on the blood for a few moments, before she met Joyce’s eyes, jaw quivering and eyes pooling with tears. Joyce’s trembling hand unclenched from Avery’s tee shirt and she placed it on her partner’s cheek and drew her in. Their lips were dry and salty from tears.
As Avery rested her head on her shoulder, she sniffled against her neck, and whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetie.”
When the police officer returned, he placed a few thick, light-blue pads down over the blood, which was quickly absorbed, turning the cushions a raw-meat kind of purple, which caused Joyce’s empty stomach to churn with nausea.
As he stood up, he gently asked, “Are you ready to move? Maybe come downstairs so we can talk and get a better understanding of what happened? The Wangs are here waiting outside. We can let them in, if you’d like.”
Avery didn’t lift her head or speak, so Joyce said, “We’d like to get dressed first.”
“Of course. I’ll wait downstairs for you.”
“You can let the Wangs in.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After he left the room, Joyce lifted Avery’s head by her chin, and after giving her a kiss on her lips, they shared a single nod, a non-verbal decision they were ready to stand. The live video stream of the camera in her foyer was still displayed on her computer monitor, showing police officers moving from room to room, taking pictures and writing notes. Since she didn’t need to monitor it at the present, she closed the app and locked her computer. After stowing Avery’s cigar cutter and the laptop and paper stack in a filing cabinet to protect them while so many people were roaming around her house, she took her partner’s hand and led her out of the office.
They were careful to avoid the splintered wood, the blood-soaked pads in the doorway, and mud-prints up and down the length of the hallway. Seeing the blood and mud made Joyce grateful she had wooden floors and not carpet.
When they entered her bedroom, she barely recognized it. Dresser drawers were pulled out and emptied onto the floor. Cardboard boxes and plastic totes from her closet were strewn about, some just open with their contents still contained, while others were completely dumped out.
Her eyes filled with tears as she knelt next to a toppled plastic tote and picked up a worn leather men’s wallet. Her father’s wallet. She flipped it open, and as she traced the edge of the plastic sleeve protecting her family’s portrait, the rivers of emotion burned down her cheeks. The scent of her mother’s perfume filled her nostrils, and her head spun side to side, sniffing out the source. As she picked up the cracked bottle, a throat-ripping sob broke her. She clutched the items to her chest and fell to the floor.
Avery flew down on top of her, pried her up and into her arms, and cradled her against her chest.
Joyce wailed, “It’s broken,” and Avery gently lifted Joyce’s hand to inspect the bottle.
After giving her a soft kiss on the top of her head, she softly said, “It’s just cracked. We can seal the crack.”
Avery was right, of course, but the crack in her mother’s perfume bottle was like a magnitude-eight earthquake that deepened a painful gorge in her heart, the permanent void of loss that constantly ached. But at that moment, it was as raw as the days her parents had died, like a fresh amputation with no painkillers to dull the shock and agony.
But each stroke of Avery’s hand through her hair and over her arm and each kiss she gave her on her head brought her back into the present moment. With the pain of the loss of her parents still sitting heavy in her heart like phantoms sucking her lifeforce to maintain their existence, the shock of what she nearly lost only minutes ago hit her like a battering ram slamming into her gut. She carefully deposited the wallet and perfume bottle on the floor, being mindful enough to keep the cracked side up to prevent further loss, then sat up and embraced Avery.
“Avery, I love you so very much. I’m so sorry I didn’t do a better job at protecting you and…”
Avery soothingly cooed, “Shh, Joyce, you did protect me. And we couldn’t have known this would happen. It’s been two weeks since Heath came over. Talk around town was starting to settle. But you still kept the alarm set. You took the risk to get our cellphones so you could make sure someone else knew what was going on. You helped me to stay calm and quiet when I was struggling in there. You shielded me with your own body. I love you, Joyce, more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I love you even more after all of this.” She gave Joyce a firm, lingering kiss on her lips, then asked, “Ready to get dressed?”
“I guess.”
Joyce wanted more than anything to be able to click, drag her mouse, and highlight the entire section from when the Kinder brothers arrived till now and delete it from their story. But reality wasn’t as kind as fiction. There were no do-overs. There was no backspace or delete buttons. Reality was permanent.
After they were dressed in jeans and soft sweatshirts, and put shoes on their feet, they walked downstairs, hand in hand, and joined the organized chaos. A few police officers were standing in the foyer. A few were in the informal dining room area inspecting and taking pictures of the broken glass French door. And two were in the living room, talking to Henry, Raya, and Julie. But as soon as they walked into the room, Raya and Julie rushed forward, both of them taking Joyce and Avery into their arms. Joyce into Raya’s and Avery into Julie’s. The two of them spoke at the same time, nearly saying the same thing, asking if they were okay and telling them how scared they were and how grateful they were that they were okay. It was a bit chaotic and overwhelming and threatened to send Joyce over the edge again.
But after a few minutes, Raya wiped her own eyes dry, and asked, “What can I do? Do you need a drink? Can I help you clean up?”
“Pardon the interruption.” The police officer who shot Jason and found them hiding in the office stepped forward. “Before any cleaning efforts can begin, we do need to talk to you about what happened.” He motioned to the foyer with an ink pen, and added, “We’ve already been in touch with the security company and they’re sending us a copy of the camera footage from the incident. But we’d like to try to understand why this happened.”
Avery snapped, “Joyce told you why this happened. They thought we had more information on Mickey Tulare’s lost jewels. But we don’t. We gave it to Heath. Have you located Heath? Is he okay?”
“We’re still trying to locate all of them. Did Heath tell you why he thought the Albertsons are dangerous?”
Avery looked to Joyce, so she explained how Heath had given Ms. Albertson a lift home when she was too drunk to drive, and the secrets she told him about the murders in all three families.
“She was so drunk that she didn’t remember the night and since he didn’t have proof, he didn’t tell anyone. The only reason he told us is because he found out we were researching Mickey Tulare. He was trying to protect us. He thought if they knew we gave him our research, they wouldn’t bother us. While they were ransacking my bedroom, Jason said he thought we gave Heath a false lead. We didn’t. We gave him what we thought was a genuine lead.”
The police officer was about to ask a question, but Avery quickly said, “Wait, there’s something else,” then sprinted out of the room and back upstairs. When she returned, she had their cellphones and the little paper jewelry box that was left on Joyce’s doorstep with two boat nails and a threatening note to Stick to writing.
She lifted the lid and held it out to the police officer. “This was on the doorstep the next morning. This note was written on a typewriter. You can tell from the imperfections in the ink. The keystrokes of a typewriter can act like a fingerprint or signature – sometimes they’re unique from one another.”
While pulling a plastic bag from an inside pocket of his jacket, the officer said, “I’m going to need to take that into evidence. Did you handle the nails?”
Avery answered, “Yes. I didn’t think they’d be dumb enough to leave prints on them.”
After Avery replaced the lid, he put the box in the bag and sealed it, and asked, “Did anything else unusual happen between finding the box and today? Or did either of you have any other encounters with Heath or the Albertson and Kinder families?”
“No.”
“Okay. We just need to take some pictures upstairs, then we can get out of here. We’re going to keep a squad car parked outside till we’re able to locate the others.” He offered Joyce a business card. “If you think of anything else or have any questions, give me a call. I’ll let you know when we’re clearing out.”
As he turned to walk out, Joyce quickly asked, “Can you please remove the blood pads?”
“Yes, Ms. Peterson. We’ll clean up the blood.”
“Thank you,” she looked at the business card, “Officer Mitchell.”
He nodded once, then left the room with his partner.
After pocketing the business card, Joyce looked around, seeing the wreckage for the first time. Books were thrown around, some laying open with their spines up and pages folded from the impact with the floor. Picture frames were tossed and their glass was cracked or shattered. Vinyl records were pulled out of their cabinet, some of which were broken. Photo albums were pulled out and open spines down – they looked intact otherwise. Her trunk style coffee table was open and some of the DVDs were pulled out and strewn across the inner springs of the couch – the cushions were in a heap near the windows. It was staggering to see how much damage they caused in the matter of mere minutes. And based on the video, only Jason turned over the living room. That man was a tornado.
She nudged a few books with the toe of her sneaker, then bent down to pick up the picture of her parents standing next to the lovers’ post. Miraculously, the glass survived the fall and the impact from the two books that had been tossed on top of it.
“Ms. Peterson.” She turned to face Officer Mitchell, who was standing in the living room doorway. “We’re all done. We’re going to clear out. Officers Brown and Schultz will be stationed outside.”
“Thank you, for everything.”
“Yes, ma’am. Glad we arrived in time. Take care.”
When she heard the front door close, Joyce set the picture frame in its place on the shelf, then took Avery’s hand, and the five of them walked out of the living room to the kitchen and informal dining room. The pang of near-loss rippled through her heart again, and she slipped her hand from Avery’s to wrap both arms around her waist. Only a minute separated Avery from the Kinder brothers when they broke in. And only a second saved them both after Jason kicked in the office door.
Stepping over the glass and growing puddle from the rain pouring in, Henry inspected the damage to the French door, before looking at Joyce, and telling her, “I’ll clean this up and put some plastic over the frame till we can get someone over to fix it. Do you have someone in mind?”
“Alexis Solano installed them.”
“Okay,” Henry pulled his cellphone out of his jeans pocket, “I’ll give him a call and see if he can come over this morning.”
“Thank you. I should probably take pictures of everything first for the insurance company.”
“I can do it. I’ll get my camera.”
Avery gave Joyce a firm kiss on her lips, then held her eyes for a few moments, kissed her again, then squeezed her shoulders before stepping away to get her camera from the office upstairs.
Raya paced along the length of the dining table while twisting her hands together, and as she turned for her third loop, she stopped, motioned to the kitchen, and asked, “Have you eaten?”
“No, we haven’t had anything yet. Avery was getting ready to cook when they broke in.”
“Okay, I’ll cook and make some coffee.”
“You don’t have to…”
Jaw trembling, Raya cut her off, “I’m doing it. Please. I need to do something. I can’t just stand here. We’ll eat, then we’ll help you clean up.” Joyce pulled her into a tight hug, and Raya’s chest shook against her with a squeaky, deep breath. “I was so scared. I can’t even imagine how you felt. We heard the police say they got here just as Jason Kinder kicked in your office door. A minute later and…” She croaked, “I love you, honey.”
“I love you too. Thank you for being here.”
She pulled away jerkily nodding and wiped her eyes dry. “I’ll get the coffee going first.”
“I’ll help.” Julie gave Joyce a tight hug and kissed her cheek. “It seems silly to say now, but, surprise. I’m really glad I decided to come home this weekend. I can’t believe you almost…” She shook her head. “I’m glad you’re okay, Joyce. You are as close to family as you can get without blood or marriage.” She tried to force a flirtatious grin across her lips, but her eyes weren’t in it. They were too sad and scared. Instead of teasing her with a prospective suitor comment or feigning jealousy that she chose Avery instead of her, she said, “I love you, Joyce Peterson, and I love that you’re dating my best friend.”
“Thank you, sweetie. I love you too.”
When Avery returned, she had her camera hung around her neck and Joyce’s mother’s perfume bottle in her hand.
“If the window guy is able to come this morning, he might have some epoxy or something to seal the crack on this. If not, we can go to the hardware store and pick some up.” She set the bottle down on the kitchen counter, then added, “I already took pictures of the office, bedroom, and hallway. They, uh,” she scrunched her nose, “didn’t do a very good job of cleaning up the blood. It’s pretty nauseating.”
Joyce’s stomach instantly clenched and turned over and her heart rate quickened, but before she could respond, Henry said, “I’ll take care of it. Where are your cleaners?”
“In the laundry room. I’ll show you.”
While Avery stepped towards the backdoors to photograph the damage, Joyce led Henry to the laundry room, which she was grateful to see was just as she had left it. She opened a tall white cabinet, and motioned inside. The mop, broom, dust pan, and extendable duster were hanging on hooks on the inside of the door. There were a few different size buckets in the bottom of the cabinet. And the shelves were filled with paper towels, toilet paper, sponges, bottles of various cleaning solutions, and a box of disposable gloves.
“Help yourself to whatever you want to use. Are you sure you’re comfortable doing this?”
“Blood doesn’t bother me, Joyce. I’ll take care of it. And I’ll mop up the mud too.”
“Thank you, Henry. I truly appreciate it.”
“I know.” He squeezed her shoulder. “We’re going to get this all sorted out. Go relax.”
She didn’t think she’d be able to relax for quite some time, probably for several days, but she left the laundry room to try. As she was about to pass the living room, she spotted Avery in the center, taking pictures of the books and framed photos on the floor. She slightly startled as Joyce slipped her hands around her waist, then sighed as she turned in her arms, shifting her camera to hang at her side so it wasn’t obstructing their embrace.
“I didn’t know if you’d need pictures taken in here, but I didn’t want to just stand idle and I’m too wired to sit down yet.”
“Aside from having our own bank of evidence for a possible court case, I don’t think we need photos in here.” She caressed Avery’s cheek, drawing a line between two small, flat beauty marks. “My brain is in overdrive, going over every detail, over and over again. I can’t…” She shook her head and traced the same path across Avery’s cheek again. “If you hadn’t heard them in time, before they got in…” Joyce’s voice wavered, so she cleared her throat.
“I know. Me too. I had just filled the water reservoir and the filter with coffee grounds to make a pot of coffee, and before I could hit the button, I heard someone try to open the back door. I don’t think I’ve ever moved so quickly before. And I don’t even know why I thought to grab my stuff from the living room first. But I keep thinking, if I hadn’t, maybe they would have just taken that and never come upstairs at all. I could have used the Find my Device feature on my laptop and the police would have caught up with them. Maybe if I had left it, it wouldn’t have been such a close call.”
“Maybe. Or maybe they would have just broken it while looking for something physical, like a journal, postcards, letters – the type of records they’re more accustomed to looking at. They were looking for something we would have found at the Hagger Cove archives, not a computer. It’s always easy to say maybe I should have done this or not done that. Hindsight is rude and condescending in that way.” Avery gave her a small smile. “I think this is one time both of us need to give ourselves a break from humoring hindsight. And coming from me, someone who mixes drinks and cooks dinner for hindsight on a regular basis, that’s saying quite a bit.”
“I love you, Joyce. When I heard them outside, every cell in my body was calling your name. I couldn’t get to you fast enough. I’ve been through some bad situations before, but I’ve never been so scared in my life. When you wedged me between your own body and that filing cabinet, I thought, I’m not letting go. If they tried to pull us apart, they would have to break my fingers because I was never letting go of you. Live or die, I was not letting go.” Avery’s jaw trembled as if her joints were suddenly replaced with springs, and she sniffled as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “I’m never letting go of you, Joyce. For as long as you love me, I’m never letting go.”
“I will never stop loving you, Avery. I am certain of that.”