“Buck, wait!” Tyler yelled.
Buck? Was that his name? I finally had a name to the hate that was boiling inside of me.
“Shut up!” the man yelled. He swung his gun at Tyler hitting him hard on the side of his head. Tyler moaned and slouched over in his seat. He was knocked unconscious.
He then turned the gun, pointing it at Michael. Michael turned; his back pressed up against his door and the steering wheel.
“Wait- just wait! You don’t want to do this man,” he urged. “Be smart.”
“The hell I don’t! You must really think I’m stupid boy. Don’t cha? Think you could pull one over on me?” The man grabbed the bag with the money in it and flung it at Michael, hitting him in the chest. “You shorted me five-hundred dollars! Five-hundred frickin’ dollars. That’s a very small price for your life,” he said very slowly in a cold, deadly voice.
I found myself pleading for his life. “No… please don’t!” I cried, over and over, tears poured down my cheeks. I knew my words were hopeless, falling into void, but I couldn’t help myself.
I looked at Michael. He kept silent but his eyes were speaking a million words. I didn’t notice fear, but embedded deep inside, was sadness.
Buck leaned over Tyler and yanked at the door handle. The door flew open as he shoved Tyler’s limp body out into the snow. Tyler moaned; his legs still in the car. Buck pushed them out, slamming the door shut.
“Drive!” he yelled at Michael in a demanding voice, holding the gun to his head.
“What about --” Michael started to say. I knew he didn’t want to leave Tyler.
“Drive!” Buck hollered. “I’ll shoot ya, if ya hesitate again!”
Michael put the car in reverse, careful not to run over Tyler.
“Where are we going?” Michael asked calmly.
“Drive. Don’t ask questions. I’ll tell ya when I’m ready,” he said coldly. I could tell Buck didn’t have a plan and he was obviously high. He kept grunting and groaning, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his free hand.
He scooted back behind Michael’s seat, releasing the gun from his head. Michael, calm and collected, slowly descended from Hatcher’s Pass. I studied his face. His eyes showed no emotion as he glared into the looming darkness ahead.
I turned back to see Buck fumbling to grab something rolling in the back seat. He found it. The syringe. I watched helplessly as he slide the cover off of the needle.
“Oh God! Michael, look out!” I wailed. “Michael!”
I was terrified, swinging at Buck, attempting to knock the needle from his grasp. Every attempt failed, but I kept swinging, hoping, praying, that just one would connect.
“I hate you! I hate you, you murdering bastard!” I screamed at him, over and over. Tears of hate fell constant from my eyes. “I hate you!” I wailed from my core.
Michael didn’t know what was coming. He stayed focused on the road ahead.
“Stop!” Buck yelled.
Michael stopped in the middle of the road but before he could move, Buck flew forward wrapping his arm around Michael’s neck. Michael tried to break his grasp, but it was too late. Buck shoved the needle deep into the back of Michael’s neck forcing the white liquid into him. Michael moaned and went limp, so Buck released his hold and grabbed his gun. He pointed it at Michael, but Michael was no longer a threat.
Michael grabbed the back of his neck. I watched helplessly as his eyes rolled back. Whatever he shot into him was killing him.
I looked down at his dashboard and noticed the clock. It was 6:11 P.M., the exact same time I felt that shooting pain in the back of my neck the other night. Oh God. I was actually feeling Michael dying.
Buck leaned over the front seat and pulled Michael’s wallet from his pocket, then grabbed the bag of money and bolted from the car.
“Michael!” I sobbed helplessly.
Michael took in a few deep breaths and tried to focus. He gripped the steering wheel and hit the gas.
“Liz,” he whispered. His breathing became erratic and a single tear graze his cheek. This was the first time I’d ever seen Michael cry. “I’m so sorry Liz,” he breathed.
Was he talking to me? He can’t be. I’m just witnessing this. Then it dawned on me. He was actually thinking about me in his last moments. My heart was about to burst into a zillion pieces, never to be put together again.
“I love you, Michael,” I called out, knowing he couldn’t hear me. “I love you so much.” I couldn’t bear to watch anymore. His breaths had become shallow; his brown eyes were dilated and glassy.
He let out a loud moan and grasped his heart. I watched him take his last few breaths. Helpless. Heart-broken. I moved as close as I could to him and whispered in his ear, “forever in my heart.”
His head went limp, resting on the steering wheel. His eyes still open, staring blankly at me. He was gone.
The car swerved off the road into the half frozen Little Susitna River.
“Michael! Michael, get up!” I screamed desperately trying to wake him, although I knew he was already dead.
Frigid waters from the river poured into the car from the windows.
A voice called my name, and everything went black.
Chapter 10
“Elizabeth. I’m here honey,” the voice called to me. I fought to open my eyes but they were extremely heavy. Pain throbbed through my head and the rest of my body. I knew I was awakening to my reality, once again.
My lids finally decided to cooperate with my brain and slowly peeled apart. My eyes ached and everything was blurred.
“Lizzy,” the voice called.
“Mom?” My voice was weak, barely a whisper.
“Yes, honey. I’m right here,” she answered clearly.
I hadn’t heard my mom speak with such clarity in a long time. Her voice was warm and caring, and I didn’t smell alcohol on her breath, only the sweet scent of her floral perfume. I focused on her face as she leaned towards me. Her soft, warm hand brushed across my cheek.
“Sweetheart, thank God you’re alright,” she said gently.
I tried to sit up but I couldn’t. My body was much too weak. Tubes came from my arms and face and bandages were wrapped around my head, wrists, and ankles. I felt like a mummy, and I probably looked like one too.
The corner of the room was decorated with a beautiful flower arrangement; dozens of dark, red roses. Next to it, a white teddy bear holding half a dozen Mylar balloons read, “Get Well Soon”.
“The Young’s brought the flowers by this morning, and Tyler and Emily brought the bear and balloons. They all said to give you their love when you woke,” she said noticing that my attention had diverted. “Beautiful roses aren’t they,” she said softly.
“M- hm,” I hummed.
“Honey, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to buy you anything. You know the kind of finances I’ve got. But on the way over, I picked you some wildflowers,” she said, pulling a clear plastic cup filled with multi-colored, wildflowers from the side of her. They were beautiful and reminded me of the meadow at Lake Liz.
“I love them, Mom. Thank you.”
“The Young’s paid the hospital to put you up in this private room. They said they were taking care of everything. Isn’t that nice of them?”
“Yes, it is,” I breathed, wincing at the pain that was shooting through my head.
“Hold on honey, I’ll be right back. The nurse told me to get her if you woke up.” My mom looked frazzled and panicky, quickly disappearing out the door. She returned a few seconds later with a nurse at her heels.
The nurse was an older lady, probably in her mid-to-late forties. She was very petite and had light blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, with about ten bobby pins on each side, holding in stray strands. She had a pretty face but dark circles under her eyes. I could tell she’d been putting in some long hours.
“Good morning, Elizabeth. My name is Lynn. How are you feeling?”
“Besides the pain, I guess I’m alright.
” I tried to smile but my face was tight.
“Do you feel any sharp pains, anywhere in particular?” she asked taking my vitals.
“I just have a really, really, bad headache,” I said assessing myself.
“Well sweetie, I can give you something to help with that pain. Now, don’t go anywhere! I’ll be right back,” she giggled.
A few minutes later she returned with a cup of water and two white pills. She pressed a button to raise the head of my bed so I was sitting almost upright. Water dripped from the side of my mouth as I took a sip. My lips felt swollen and stiff, and I couldn’t begin to imagine what I looked like. All I could think about was a swollen Hippo. UGH!
There was a “shave-and-a-haircut” knock at the door.
“Glad to see you’re awake, Elizabeth. How are you feeling?”
It was Chief Cross.
“I could be better,” I responded weakly with a smile.
“Yes. I’d say you’ve been through the ringer. We’re all just glad that you pulled through.”
I nodded. My mom gently squeezed my arm and gave it a brisk but soft rub. I could tell she was nervous. She hadn’t been around this many people in a long while.
“I’m going to need to take a statement from you sometime soon. I’ll come back later, after you’ve had some time to get up,” he asked. His pen and notebook were in hand.
“I can give it to you now,” I responded without thinking.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I lied. I just wanted to get it out of the way and be over with it.
Chief Cross grabbed a stray chair and plopped it close to my bedside.
“Elizabeth, if you need anything, just press the button and I’ll be right in,” the nurse said as she finished taking my vitals.
“Actually, I’d love some orange-juice, please?”
“Sure. I’ll be right back,” she said with a wink, stepping out of the room.
My mom stood up. “Honey, I’ll be back too,” she said following the nurse. “I’m just going to grab something to eat. My stomach,” she said rubbing it furiously. I could tell her nerves were getting the best of her. I couldn’t believe she was going to leave me. Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. She probably wouldn’t be able to handle hearing everything I’d been through, anyway.
Chief Cross smiled, then took off his hat, laying it on the side-table, and then flipped open his pad and clicked his pen to write. He was ready.
“Now…just start from the beginning Elizabeth, and tell me everything that happened.”
Gosh. If I told him everything that happened to me over the past few days he’d need a dozen pads and pens. He’d probably have enough to write a crazy supernatural thriller; maybe even a best seller. I silently laughed to myself.
I wondered if I should tell him about seeing Michael. He’d probably think I was crazy and admit me to an asylum. I wasn’t sure if anyone would understand. I didn’t really understand it all myself.
It all started with those crazy dreams… and then there was Lucy Crow. But how would they perceive Lucy in all of this? Michael was the only reason why she’d contacted me. I’d try to leave Lucy out of it. She’d already been through enough with Michael, and besides, she was an innocent bystander. I didn’t want the police involving her.
Running all of this stuff through my head made me feel like a nut case, like I was in some sort of weird science-fiction ghost-story.
Chief Cross cleared his throat. “Elizabeth, are you sure you don’t want me to come back later?”
I didn’t realize that I’d been in a zone. “No. I’m sorry,” I said gathering myself.
“Well, whenever you feel comfortable, just start from the beginning.”
I had to think all the way back to the beginning. It seemed like a long time ago, but in actuality, it had only been two days.
“Well…” I began. “It all started Friday night. I was waiting for Michael to pick me up, and he was running late. He’d usually call me, to let me know what was going on, but when he didn’t I started to get worried. I tried to call him several times but I kept getting his answering service.
“I decided to watch some TV, but ended up falling asleep. The next thing I knew, I was waking up to the phone ringing. It was Michael’s parents telling me that he had passed away in a car accident.”
“You said Michael was supposed to pick you up - now what time was that supposed to be?”
“Five O’clock.”
“Did he mention if he was going anywhere prior to picking you up?”
“No. He was supposed to go home, get ready, and pick me up.”
He continued scribbling madly on his pad.
“What happened from the start of yesterday?”
“Well, I woke up, went to work, and then went to lunch with Emily. When I got home, I checked my messages. There was one really strange message. It sounded like a man breathing heavily into the phone, and then he started singing “I’ve Got You Babe”.
“Sonny and Cher?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“Never mind… I think that was a bit before your time.”
“Oh okay… Well, I tried to check the number but it was marked private.”
“And after that?” He continued writing, flipping to the next clean page.
“The Young’s invited me to their home for dinner, so I went. I left their house at around nine o’clock. When I got home, I took a shower and then called Emily to see if I could crash at her house. I decided I didn’t want to be home alone.”
“Okay. Now earlier in the day, did you happen to encounter a native lady who came into Mrs. Kelley’s shop?” He flipped back, way to the beginning of his notepad. “A- Lucy?”
OMG! How did he know? That question threw me. I hesitated. Emily! It had to have been Emily. Her big mouth! I should have known. Now I seemed like a liar. Withholding the truth. Could I go to jail for that? Ugh! How could I explain Lucy, and quickly! I needed a way to render her innocent without lying to him, and make it seem like I was sincere. I tried to rationalize every different scenario in my mind. Then, I found one. An easy one: It merely escaped my mind.
“Oh yeah, Lucy,” I said, exaggerating her name. “I’m sorry. I totally drew a blank. So much happened to me these past days; everything just seemed like a blur. Like a bad dream,” I exhaled, rubbing my fingers on my brain, hoping he would buy it.
“Well, I would probably forget most things if I’d gone through what you just did,” he added kindly. He showed no signs of being judgmental. Phew! I made it through that one. I was a pretty good actress. I continued to tell him about my visitation from Lucy, since it was already out in the open.
“Lucy was a Native woman that just happened to be in town, and came into the store. I think she said she was Inuit. She introduced herself to me, and told me that she was the shaman in her village up north. She said that she received a message for me from someone who had passed.”
Chief Cross looked up at me, his left eyebrow lifted. I knew he didn’t believe in this sort of thing. He was a faithful church man and probably thought it was all a hoax.
“Did she say who this person was?” he questioned.
I gulped. “Michael.”
“Michael?” he asked looking up at me with a surprised yet quizzical look.
“Yes, she told me that Michael had a message for me.” I waited for his next response.
He rolled his eyes. That was the exact response I was expecting from him.
“Well, what did this Lucy have to say about Michael?” he questioned, intently scribbling words onto his pad.
“She said that Michael was sorry he missed our date.” He quickly glanced up. “It was our four year anniversary.”
“Oh,” he replied, and then continued what he was doing.
“She also said that Michael was giving me a warning about the man, who she thinks was involved with Michael’s death. She said to be careful because Michael was worried that the man w
ould try to find me.”
I wondered if Tyler told his dad the whole truth; that he was involved with a psycho-killing drug dealer. I wondered if he’d had enough guts.
“Do you know the man?”
“No,” I answered assertively. “He wanted me because, because…” tears streamed down my face, “he murdered Michael. He murdered him for his money, and when he stole Michael’s wallet after he killed him… he saw the picture of me in his wallet. He thought that if he had me, I could pull the rest of the money out of Michael’s account.”
Chief Cross stopped writing and looked at me wide eyed. “And Lucy told you all of this?”
“No,” I said slowly. “He told me that himself.”
He shook his head and set his pad and pen down on his lap. He squeezed the bridge of his nose then inhaled deeply. I could tell he was trying to rationalize what I’d just told him. He finally sighed and picking up his pen and pad.
“His name is Buck,” I added. I thought that was very important, even though he probably knew this already.
“Well… do you think you could give me details of what he looks like?” he asked. Chief Cross’ eyes were staring into mine, waiting for a response.
“Yes.”
“I just want you to know that Tyler already gave me his statement, and his description of the man. I just want to match up the descriptions between the two of you, just in case either of you left out any important details. Tyler also told me why Michael was involved. ” He breathed in deeply and exhaled, his head leaned low.
I could tell by the painful look on his face that Tyler must have told him about the drug money. It must’ve been devastating, knowing his son was involved with such a person…the kind of person he hunts and puts behind bars for a living.
“Just tell me everything that you remember about him, Elizabeth,” he urged again.
“Well, he was around six-feet tall. He has a narrow, wrinkled face. His nose is kind of pointy. He also has straight, dark-brown, almost blackish hair that comes down to his shoulders. His eyes looked black and evil, and were sort of sunken in a bit. Oh, and he is missing a tooth… a bottom tooth, on the left side.”
“Any noticeable scars or tattoos?”