A/N: I'll be updating the story from here on out twice a month for the foreseen future. Thank you for reading.
The rest of the day after the news report was spent huddled up in my room with the windows and doors locked. Eating didn't even occur to me. Once the mess on the kitchen floor was cleaned up, I felt physically ill. My mind was filled with memories of Tiffany's angry, cruel sneer and Marko's stoic response. Part of me wasn't sure if I should call the police to report what I'd seen.
Another part of me was loath to believe either Marko or Paul capable of that type of viciousness.
Nightfall only increased my anxiety.
I slipped into the living room in the dark. My eyes kept straying to the kitchen windows overlooking the drive as I checked the locks on the door and remaining windows. Some deep, terrified part of me didn't want any possibility of seeing Marko or Paul. In truth, I didn't want to see Star, David, or Dwayne either.
Pinpointing the reason didn't interest me.
My heart hammered in my chest to the point I feared a heart attack was coming on.
Quick as possible, I checked the kitchen windows. Once satisfied the locks were engaged I grabbed a bottle of water and bag of Cool Ranch Doritos before retreating to my bedroom. I shoved a heavy dresser in front of the door before turning on the bedside lamp.
I sank down on the bed with the bottle and bag clenched in my hands.
After a few minutes I set the bottled water and chips aside. Snatching up my phone from the nightstand, I dialed.
After four long rings, Jessica picked up. "Hey babe! How are you my love?" The sweetness of my friend's voice was like a balm to my soul. "I'm so happy you called."
A deep exhalation of relief escaped me. "Everything is going great. I'm sorry I haven't called but I've been busy with the shop."
Merry laughter echoed over the space between us. "No worries! I had a feeling you had your hands full."
No way in hell was I about to talk about Marko and the others or what happened to his ex-friend. Running a hand through my hair, I pushed the mass back over my shoulders. "I never thought everything could get so crazy."
"You lived a pretty cloistered life in Denver," Jessica stated quietly. "Did you find a beach house?"
I flinched. "Uh… well." With shaky hands I ripped open the bag of Doritos. "I'm a couple blocks from the beach."
Jessica hesitated before speaking. "Okay. Why are you acting so cagy?"
"Santa Carla is a lot more expensive than I thought it would be. Rent is outrageous." I took a deep breath. "I had to settle for a mobile home park."
There was absolute silence for a moment before Jessica broke into hysterical laughter. "You… in a trailer park?" Wild snorts barged into my ear. "This is classic!"
I rolled my eyes even as a smile nudged my lips. "Yeah, yeah! Yuck it up," I muttered in my best Han Solo impression before sticking a chip in my mouth.
Jessica perked up. "Hark! Do I hear the crunch of a potato chip?" Amazement filled her voice.
"Dorito," I managed while in mid-chew.
"No!" She was laughing so hard it sounded like she was in danger of busting a lung. "Holy crap! You used to lecture me the minute I opened a bag of Lays."
A smile curled my lips. "I'm trying to change my life."
Jessica snorted good-naturedly. "The change is for the better. No offense, but you were turning into a health Nazi."
I crunched on another chip – smacking and crunching loudly as possible. "How is Kevin?"
"Trying to change the subject?"
"And failing miserably," I retorted. "Come on and spill."
Jessica sighed. "The same old story: I want to get married and Kevin doesn't."
"Dump the bastard," I declared before sucking the spices from my fingers. "Life is short and you don't need a loser like him dragging you down."
"Grace Martin!"
"I dare you to deny I'm right."
Jessica was quiet a moment. "I know you are." She released a deep, pained breath. "If Kevin wanted to marry me he would have asked three years ago."
My chest ached for her. "Damn straight. You're worth a hell of a lot more than the little bit douchebag decides to give."
We talked for another twenty minutes before she had to go.
I closed the bag of Doritos and finished my water before curling up in the bed. As I stared up at the flat white ceiling my eyelids grew heavier and heavier until they finally dropped shut…
The table was large and oval – highly polished mahogany gleaming in the low light. I stood awkwardly beside the table with a hand on a buttery leather chair. Shadows writhed like innumerable snakes leaving my heart slamming against my breastbone as I studied the darkness all around.
'What's the matter Grace?' David's voice startled me so much I jumped. He released a deep, barking laugh in response. 'Don't be such a baby.'
I turned to find David seated at the head of the table. He was leaning back in a formerly unoccupied chair; pushing it back while resting his booted heels on the lip of the wood. His arms were cushioned under his head and an unpleasant gleam in his pale eyes ripped at me.
'How did you…'
David chuckled cutting me off. 'As Conan Doyle so succinctly put it – people see but do not observe. I was here the whole time Grace.' The smile dropped from his face. 'We've always been with you.'
Slowly, one by one, Marko, Paul, Dwayne, and finally Star emerged from the throbbing, living darkness. Like pale specters each took a chair aside from Star who moved to stand behind David. She looked nervous, casting an apologetic glance my way.
Marko's eyes met mine. 'Don't be scared, Grace.'
'What is this?' I demanded angrily.
David snorted. 'I'd tone down the attitude, girly. You're in no position to play the bitch.'
Irritation battled with pure panic inside me. Something about this situation was off – I knew I was dreaming but it felt alarmingly real. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
'I'm a grown woman. Don't call me girly again.'
Marko looked from me to the now frowning David and back again. He released a sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Grace,' he near whispered my name. 'Don't be like this. Please just listen.'
I chewed my bottom lip and looked back to David.
He took a deep breath before exhaling in a single, slow measurement. 'We've had our eye on you for some time, Grace.'
My eyebrows arched. 'We just met.'
A slight grin edged his lips up. 'Oh? Are you sure about that?'
I frowned. 'Yes.'
'Wrong,' David chimed sarcastically. 'Trust me when I tell you so.' His eyes slid to Dwayne. 'Grab the platter if you would.'
The handsome brunet raised one eyebrow as though questioning his friend but he still rose with elegance. 'Will do,' Dwayne muttered before becoming one with the darkness beyond the group.
When I looked back at the table a crystal decanter filled with ruby red liquid was set perfectly before David with a matching crystal goblet before every chair. Even mine.
'Want a drink?' David asked with a smirk as he poured himself a glass of the rich liquid.
The smell and sight were off putting; far thicker than wine should be with a strange, almost salty aroma.
I shook my head. 'No thank you.'
He shrugged in response. 'More for us.'
Dwayne stepped into the light carrying a silver tray with a matching domed cover. He glanced at me before placing the platter in the center of the table. David held out his hand and Dwayne slapped it before dropping back into his chair.
'I bet you'd like a peek,' David goaded. 'Go ahead and satisfy your curiosity.'
Star's eyes took on sadness. 'Please don't do this, David.'
His eyes flicked away toward the gloom. 'Star…' Clear warning filled his voice.
She crossed her arms and turned her back on all of us.
David's gaze returned to mine. 'All your questions will be answered if you pick up that lid.'
I looked at Marko.
He was strangely serious. 'I'm not gonna tell you to do it. You need to do what you want – not what someone tells you.'
Even normally smiling Paul was solemn.
Edging closer, I leaned forward with twitching fingers. The stainless steel was cool against my fingers as I grasped the lid yanking it straight up.
The sight that greeted my eyes was so horrific minutes ticked by before the lid slipped from my grasp landing with a crash against the table. The cacophony slowly died leaving a bizarre buzzing that filled my ears and deafened me to anything David or the others might be saying.
My eyes bugged to the point they ached. 'Oh my god…'
There, in the midst of a bed of lettuce, was the severed head of someone painfully familiar to me.
The countenance of my long missing mother, Janet Martin, was staring up at me. Her beautiful face wore an expression of muted sorrow but her features were still young and unchanged from the last time I saw her when I was sixteen – just before she left Dad and me in Denver for parts unknown.
'Mom,' I whispered.
The moment I spoke her dead eyes snapped open; the gray orbs no longer clear but cloudy. Her mouth opened. 'Grace,' she was singing my voice as she had when I was a child, only now her voice was menacing. 'Come join us. I've waited so long to see you again.'
A scream was ripped from my throat.
David's cold, cruel laughter echoed all around. He held the crystal goblet of scarlet wine. 'Surprise,' he hissed before taking a long dreg from the vessel.
The moment that ruddy liquid crossed his lips, I began hacking as my lungs seized.
I covered my mouth with both hands as painful, deep coughs racked my lungs. The trickle of something warm tasting of copper exploded into my mouth before crossing my lips. I pulled my hands away to find them coated in my blood…
With a high-pitched scream I surged upward.
Drops of blood decorated my hands and smeared against my fingers. Fear sent my heart racing so madly I feared a heart attack was looming on the horizon. The light of morning crept in around the edges of closed blinds. Here I was in my sweat-soaked bed panting like a beaten dog suffering the aftereffects of a nightmare that felt more real than any I'd ever experienced.
Taking a long, shaky breath I collapsed back against the pillow.
A crunching sound tormented me. I frowned and reached under the mound of feathers. My fingers curled around a slick, crisp bag. Yanking it loose, I stared at the half-full bag of now crushed Doritos. "Shit! See if I ever eat this garbage again."
Convinced my nightmare was the result of too much food preservative, I tried to shake it off as I showered and readied for the day.
Somehow the dream stayed nagging at the edge of my consciousness.
The doorbell ringing caught me as I readied my lunch. I was already late.
Annoyance crawled through my gut as I opened the door. The man on the doorstep was tall. He was older and Hispanic; dressed in a sharp suit and wearing a friendly smile.
I lifted one eyebrow. "Can I help you?"
He pulled what looked like a wallet from his suit jacket pocket and opened it exposing a badge. "My name is Detective Raul Hernandez and I'm with the Santa Carla Homicide division. Do you have a minute?"
My throat closed up. What the hell is going on?
I nodded and stepped aside to allow him in. "What is this about?"
"Tiffany Jackson," Detective Hernandez replied succinctly. "We have information you and a friend were seen speaking to Miss Jackson outside The Rib Shack the evening she disappeared. I'd like to speak to you about it."
Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I nodded. "Sure."
He gave me a nod. "Do you know Miss Jackson?"
"No," I stated. "I'd never seen her before Marko and I ran into her outside."
Detective Hernandez had pulled a pad and pen from his pocket; busily scrawling notes as we spoke. "What is Marko's last name?"
"Smith."
"What kind of discussion was Mr. Smith having with Miss Jackson?"
A slimy feeling crawled over me. It was very apparent to me there must have been cameras in the area. Still, informing on others wasn't kosher in my book. "Miss Jackson was extremely unhappy seeing Marko with me. She cussed him out over it."
Hernandez raised one eyebrow. "And how did Mr. Smith react to her behavior?"
"Surprisingly calm," I retorted. "He gave me a ride home."
He finished writing before shoving the pad and pen in his jacket pocket. "I may have some additional questions for you, Miss Martin. Please don't leave the Santa Carla area in the next few weeks."
I waited until he was on the porch before speaking. "How did you know I was at The Rib Shack?"
"Facial recognition software is not science fiction. We matched your image from a camera in the area to your driver's license," Hernandez responded before waving to me as he descended the stairs. "Have a good day, Miss Martin."
Dumbfounded, I watched him go.
The day proved surprisingly good after the incredibly lousy start.
Graceful Pottery and Ceramics was now open for business. By the time closing rolled around I sold a full set of dishware, three pitchers, and some decorative tiles. For an unadvertised store opening the sales weren't half bad!
Nightfall was reaching inky fingers across the sky when I finally was ready to leave.
I was torn.
The mere idea of seeing Marko or the others downright terrified me yet I wanted to let Marko know the police were asking about him. Chewing my lip I stood immobile until the sun sank on the western horizon. The ticking of the clock was as loud as an explosion to me as I stood in darkness watching Smith Bros. at the end of the road for signs of life.
Pale golden light finally flicked on in the thin windows.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my purse before heading out.
My booted feet moving against the road echoed in my ears against the relative silence the street offered after dark. With each step toward my heart thundered. Fear squirted through my veins along with blood leaving me near breathless by the time I reached the building.
The gate had been opened so I continued straight to the door.
With a deep breath, I rapped on the door.
Male voices inside lulled and suddenly the door opened.
The light blinded me and I blinked rapidly as tears filled my eyes.
"Well," David drawled slowly. "If it isn't little Miss Grace! Marko! Your woman is here."
"Marko and I aren't dating," I interjected.
He stopped in the door; a shadow figure nightmares were made of. "That so? Could have fooled me." The words were spat out in a venomous tone before David headed back inside.
Marko filled the space in the doorway vacated by David. My eyes adjusted to the light just enough to see his features. He wore an expression of concern as he stared me down. "You wanna come in?"
"Can we talk outside?"
He nodded and stepped outside pulling the door closed behind him. "What's going on, Grace? You're pale as death."
Pushing my hair back with both hands, I sucked in a deep breath before exhaling. "Do you know what happened to your friend Tiffany?"
Marko's brow furrowed. "I heard on the radio. Look, I didn't have anything to do with that."
For some reason, I believed the sincerity in his voice. "The Santa Carla Police Department disagrees with you. They sent a homicide detective to my house."
He stared as a frown etched over his mouth into a look of extreme displeasure. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to go through that."
"It's okay," I muttered before looking toward the end of the street. "I need to get going. The last bus of the night will be coming soon."
Marko took a step toward me. "I can give you a ride."
Shaking my head, I backed away. "No thanks. I'm good."
A coolness settled over him and he hooked his thumbs into the empty belt loops of his jeans. "Be careful, Grace. I'll check on you tomorrow night."
I smiled and nodded before starting down the street. Before I turned the corner I looked back to see Marko leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest just watching me. Swallowing down my fear I hurried to the bus stop.
Whether or not I spent time with Marko again was very much in question.
Thanks for reviewing: FlowerChild23, LostInSantaCarla3, IsabelleBrown, Chantal, Guest, xXx Tinkies xXx, and Franny.
And thanks for making the story a favorite and following: KatieWoo, LittleAmericanPsycho08241995, YukiTenshi777, xxLiveLoveReadxx, OpalOf, simplyxlovely, xXx Tinkies xXx
