The Marradith Ryder Series, Parts 27 and 28

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Poppies, Part 27

The bird flew in circles, climbing high into the cold night sky.

She was ready to turn around and fly back towards Leighton’s house when she saw it through the treetops; a structure abutting the edge of the property, between a hill and a thatch of trees.

She saw something gleaming.

Fiona landed, and phased back into her human form.

Pine needles assaulted her bare feet. She stepped carefully, thinking of snakes and other things that might be crawling in the undergrowth.

Despite the fact that she could Shift into almost any animal, there were a few of them that she did not like.

Anything that slithered or had multiple eyes or sets of legs fit easily into that category.

The crickets were loud in her ears. Moonlight helped, but she felt herself moving slower than she liked. What she was able to see quite clearly from above she couldn’t make much sense of from the ground.

She was standing in front of the door before she saw it.

Fiona sighed, wanting to laugh, but choked the sound in her throat. Leighton could be anywhere, she reminded herself.

The door was glass, and it was unlocked.

She slipped inside.

The lights were off.

The most delicious smell came to her. Flowers. She was surrounded by them.

“Who’s there?” a voice called.

She looked up and saw a pair of green eyes glowing at her from above. Now she knew what she’d seen when she was outside.

“Justin…?”

“Fi!” She could hear the relief in his voice.

She fumbled in the darkness, and was able to find the controls for the lights.

The light came on in sections, like the power being shut on in a stadium, until all of them were on.

She put a hand over her mouth.

Justin was hanging from the ceiling, suspended by two black cords tied around his arms, from shoulder to wrist on each side. The cords were attached to iron hooks placed on either side of the walls.

The cords were so tight that they cut into his flesh. His blood dripped onto the floor. What a clever torture device, she thought darkly. If he pulled either side, he would rip off his own arm. But if he just stayed there, he’d bleed to death.

Slowly.

The sea of poppies shivered. Somewhere above a fan whirred softly. The greenhouse was huge, and time was of the essence.

“Don’t take this wrong, Fi,” he said, biting his lip, “never happier to see you, but uh, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Marra…”

“She’s up at the house,” Fiona cut him off. She was looking around, for tools, a weapon, something. “I don’t have time to explain . Let’s just say she does not take no for an answer.”

He almost smiled, but the pain was killing him.

“Leighton’s got his own opium farm here, doesn’t he?” She said, trying to distract him.

She crossed into the back of the greenhouse, which lead into a small room, not much more than a closet. There was a cache of opium bundled in bags, and with it, something to protect the illegal stash.

“Leighton’s heavy on it,” Justin said, as she came back into view. “Though I’d bet opium isn’t the only thing.”

“Stay as still as you can. I have got an idea. You need to trust me.”
He closed his eyes, and she saw his lips move. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“If you can’t get me down, don’t waste your time. Get my girl away from him.”

Fiona shook her head as she lifted the gun. “No. Do it yourself.”

***

Ryan’s Roses, Part 28

“Hi.”

Ryan smiled. Shannon was standing at the foot of his hospital bed with a bouquet of yellow roses in hand.

“Wow. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She laughed. ” I thought you getting ran down by a car entitled you to something.”

She looked beautiful. Her hair was curlier than usual, long brown ringlets spilling past her shoulders. Her sweater was cashmere, not clingy, but conformed to her figure. He recognized her perfume, and could distinguish it from the scent of the roses. Always pleasant. She left the roses on the bedside tray, and pulled a chair up as close to the bed as she could get it.

He took a deep breath, and regretted it a second later. With two broken ribs and a fractured collarbone, quick movements were out of the question.

She winced, sensing his discomfort.

“Thank you,” he managed. “They’re lovely.”

“I’m glad you like them . Yellow is my favorite, so I was hoping they were okay.”

So that’s it, he thought. He’d wondered if she had bought yellow to avoid red roses– and any romantic connotations. Not that he cared. She was here, and that meant something.

He was thinking about running his fingers through her hair.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Lousy, but better now. I heard you left town for a minute. On a case?”

“Yeah. I got back as soon as I could…” she paused. “I can’t believe that someone just ran you down in the middle of the street and kept going.”

He raised an eyebrow. She was genuinely upset.

“I’ll be okay. It’s an opportunity to burn up some vacation time, that’s for sure.”

“Ryan, do they have any idea who did this?”

“No.”

She looked him in the eyes. “Did you see anything?”

He waited a beat before replying. “No.”

She shifted in her chair, crossing her legs.

“It’s been a strange week for me and hospitals,” she told him. “I saw Will Keyes yesterday.”

“That guy who got shocked with the stun gun?”

“Yes. He claims he never saw Marradith Ryder before and doesn’t remember a thing.”

“Well, there goes that kidnap theory….”

“Come on. You don’t believe him, do you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, I didn’t talk to him, but it sounds like you don’t.”

She sighed. “Okay, I was trying to figure out just how I was going to say this to you the whole way down here. So I’ll just tell you. Someone went down to the police station in Riverdale, and they used your name. They got in and were able to speak to Marradith Ryder.”

“What happened?”

“Last thing I heard, the kid was alright. Her Mom showed up and took her . She threatened to file a complaint for her daughter being questioned without a parent or a lawyer present.”

“Did they come back to Fairview?”

“I don’t know where they went, but they’re not living here.”

He reached for her hand, and she gave it to him.

“Shannon. Listen. I was in front of the police station, right here in Fairview, when I got hit. I’d barely stepped into the crosswalk. I didn’t see who it was, because the windows were tinted. They were speeding. They aimed at me. It wasn’t a drunk driver.”

He paused before continuing. “If what happened to me has anything to do with this case, this could have just as easily happened to you. You could be the one in the hospital, or worse. Promise me you’ll drop it.”

She continued to hold his hand, but wouldn’t say anything.

“Can you at least wait until I am well enough to help you?”

“Okay.”

They talked for a while longer, about safe topics. His recovery, gossip about their co-workers, whether or not the current cold spell was the last before Spring.

Before she left, she leaned in close and kissed him. A real kiss. He put his hand on the back of her neck and held her there, kissing her lips and her cheek and then back again.

She smiled when they parted. He’d moved a little, not having even realized it. And didn’t feel a thing.

Once she was gone he still felt warm, savoring this first kiss after months of pursuing her.

As it faded, a sense of dread settled into his gut.

He knew Shannon well enough to know that she never took warnings seriously.

© 2009 Lori Titus

Lori Titus’s The Marradith Ryder Series appears each Wednesday on Flashes in the Dark. She is the short story editor for Sonar4 ezine. Many of her stories have appeared on MicroHorror and Shadeworks, and her first anthology of horror stories, Tales for the Dark, is scheduled for release in 2010.

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