Fallen Elements (37 page)

Opening her eyes fully, Ryan looked around to
see Leah wasn’t in the bed. The clock on the nightstand read one
thirty four. Startled by how late she had slept, Ryan pulled the
sheets back, and carefully got to her feet. The room shifted
slightly, and holding her hand to the side of her face, she could
feel the swelling in her left cheek.

The house was quiet as Ryan shuffled into the
bathroom. After relieving herself, she stood in shock as she stared
her reflection in the mirror. Yellowish-blue bruises and welts had
blossomed overnight along her jaw and along her shoulders. The
numerous scratches that peppered her face and neck were red and
angry looking.

Still too sore to turn and completely assess
the damage to her back, Ryan could see from the bruises on her
shoulders that her back had taken the brunt of the abuse. Ryan
washed her hands, and seeing a white terry cloth robe hanging on
the back of the door, she pulled it on, and ventured into the
living room.

Surprised Leah wasn’t there, Ryan scanned the
room. A folded piece of paper was propped up against a stack of
books on the coffee table. Grabbing the note, Ryan slowly lowered
herself onto the sofa.

Ryan,

I know you said there shouldn’t be any more
sacrifices, but I can’t ask you to continue to see me day in and
day out knowing what I did. I know you don’t think it matters, and
maybe right now it doesn’t, but I can’t deal with knowing that one
day you may look at me and see the woman who murdered your
family.

I know I don’t have the strength to not see
you – I’m a coward on many levels – so I’ve left. Please don’t look
for me, and please trust whatever heartache you may feel, it will
get better. You can – in spite of what you think – forget about
me.

Leah

Ryan dropped the note to the floor. Her
stomach cramped, and she barely made it to the kitchen sink before
vomiting. The heaving racked her already sore body with even more
stabbing pain. With a trembling hand, Ryan turned the faucet on,
and managed to get a few handfuls of water into her mouth before
sinking to the floor.

Pulling her knees to her chest, Ryan stared
blankly, her eyes filling with tears as the words of Leah’s brief
and perfunctory note ran through her mind. Ryan pushed herself up
off the floor, and ran into Leah’s bedroom. Pulling open the closet
door, she stumbled backward when she saw all the clothes were
gone.

Rushing through the house, Ryan noticed
toiletries along with several family photos were missing. Ryan
paused when she saw Leah’s car keys laying on the table next to the
door. Frantic for any sign that the woman Ryan loved hadn’t just
abandoned her, she ran outside. Ryan stared at the black Nissan
still sitting in the carport in front of Ryan’s blue Honda.

She didn’t want to risk me hearing her
move the cars.
Ryan stumbled back into the house, picked up the
phone. Not remembering the bookshop’s number, she dialed
information and waited, her breath held as she was connected
through.

“Portable Magic, how may I help you?” Marty’s
familiar voice brought a smile to Ryan’s face.

“Hi, Marty. It’s Ryan.”

There was a long pause. “Hey, Ryan.”

Ryan couldn’t imagine Leah would just up and
leave her friend and business partner without some sort of
arrangements being made. Marty had to know where she was. “Do you
know how I can get ahold of Leah, please?” Ryan was unable to
manage the stress in her voice, and sounded slightly unhinged as
she spoke.

There was another long pause, and Marty
cleared his throat before speaking. “No, I’m sorry. I haven’t heard
from her.”

Ryan slammed her eyes shut, and took a deep
breath. “I think you have, and I know you’re her friend and I
completely get that you think you’re protecting her, but –”

“I don’t want to be in the middle of this,
Ryan. I’m really sorry, but I can’t.” The line clicked, and
possibly the only person who knew where Leah was had just hung up
on her.

Ryan dropped the phone to the floor, and
collapsed into the recliner. Her eyes were filled with tears as she
looked around the living room. Leah was everywhere. Her scent
permeated the space. The furniture, the paintings, the books were
entirely her, and yet she was gone.

Ryan wasn’t sure how much time had passed
before she managed to stand up. Her legs felt weak, and her joints
rubbery as she walked back into the bedroom. She had to get out of
the house now, or she risked never leaving.

Discarding the robe, Ryan found the sweat
pants and t-shirt from the night before. After she was dressed, she
looked around for shoes. A sole pair of flip-flops remained on the
floor of the closet. Slipping them on, Ryan rushed toward the front
door.

Her hand rested on the doorknob, her eyes
fixed straight ahead. Her courage faltered, and she backed away
from the door.
You’ll never be back in this house. You’ll never
see her again.
Leah’s note was so definitive and cold, Ryan
hardly recognized it as the woman she loved.

The idea to walk out the door sprung into
Ryan’s mind, and almost independent of her will and desire to
simply fade away, she found herself outside. The early afternoon
sun shone down on Ryan, and looking up, there wasn’t a cloud in the
sky. A slight breeze blew through the trees, and its coolness felt
good on Ryan’s sore and battered skin.

Ryan felt a surge of bitterness that there
should be such a perfect day when something so wretched had
happened. Driven by this, Ryan marched toward her car, and was
halfway back to Baltimore before the anger gave way to hurt.

“Jesus Christ! What the hell happened to
you?!” Nicole jumped up off the couch, her eyes wide with fright as
she took in Ryan’s tattered state.

Greg came around the corner from the kitchen.
“Shit! Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Ryan stood in the entryway of her house, the
trappings of her life seeming made up to her in light of the past
forty-eight hours. “I’m okay. Leah and I were hiking yesterday
afternoon, and I fell. No worries.”

Ryan started toward the stairs, but Nicole
stepped in front of her. Her hand was on Ryan’s forearm and she
examined the woman’s face. “Did you go to the hospital? I mean have
you seen yourself?”

Greg put his hand on Ryan’s back. “Let me
drive you.”

Ryan shook her head. “I’m okay.”

Nicole’s jaw set. “You are not okay, Ryan.
You look terrible, we haven’t been able to get ahold of you since
yesterday. What’s happened?”

Ryan’s eyes filled with tears. The answer to
her friend’s simple question seemed too overwhelming to even
contemplate right now. What had happened was too much.
Too much
to think about, too much to talk about, too much.

“I just need to sleep for a few hours and
then we can talk.” Ryan managed a weak smile, the cuts along her
lips burning as the skin stretched across her mouth.

Nicole looked over Ryan’s shoulder at Greg,
and then back at Ryan, her eyes filled with hesitancy and worry.
“Okay, but I’m checking on you in an hour.”

Ryan, relieved for the short reprieve, nodded
and walked up the stairs. Reaching her bedroom, her legs ached from
the exertion of climbing the steps, and she collapsed onto her bed.
The impact of the mattress against her bruised body brought tears
to her eyes as she drifted off to sleep.

Ryan handed the valet attendant her car keys,
and walked towards Pazo, an upscale Mediterranean eatery located in
the Fells Point neighborhood near downtown Baltimore. Ascending the
wrought iron stairs leading to the restaurant’s entrance, Ryan
winced. Though it had been over two weeks since that horrific night
in the woods, her legs and back still pained her, and the bruises
and scratches were only now beginning to fade.

“Good evening.” The hostess, who was wearing
a basic black cocktail dress accented by a strand of silver pearls,
smiled warmly at Ryan.

“Hello. I’m meeting someone. Myers-Howland.”
Ryan scanned the restaurant for her cousin. Pazo was a renovated
warehouse with two story ceiling, wrought iron chandeliers, and
décor accented with silver and jewel-toned furnishing and art
work.

“Of course. Ms. Myers-Howland has already
arrived. The two of you will be in the Avellion room this evening.
If you’ll follow me please.”

Ryan was nervous enough about seeing her
cousin, but the fact she – like her mother – insisted on reserving
private dining rooms in lieu of eating with the proverbial masses,
annoyed Ryan. To make matters worse, the room was massive. Clearly
intended for a party of ten or more, Carol sat at the far end of
the long, rectangular dining table with the menu held in front of
her face.

The hostess sat Ryan, and it wasn’t until she
left that Carol put her menu down and looked at Ryan for the first
time. Her mouth was turned downward as she assessed the scratches
and bruises on Ryan’s face. Lifting her hand, Carol made as if she
were going to touch Ryan’s face, but she rested her hand on the
table instead.

“Are you okay?” Carol asked. Her efforts to
sound resolved and distant failed as her voice cracked, and tears
filled her eyes.

Ryan swallowed the lump in her throat. Before
she could answer, a middle aged redheaded woman entered the room.
She was wearing a pair of black slacks, black leather heels, and a
white, fitted button-up shirt.

“Good evening, ladies. I’m Janelle and I’ll
be assisting you this evening. Can I get you something to
drink?”

Carol turned her face away, not wanting the
stranger to see she was crying. Ryan covered Carol’s hand with
hers, and clearing her throat, managed a smile for the waitress.
“Yes. Two Tanqueray and tonics, please.”

Janelle looked hesitantly at Carol, but only
nodded at Ryan before leaving the room. Carol pulled her hand from
Ryan’s and dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the black linen
napkin from her lap. Reaching for the glass of water in front of
her, Carol took a long drink.

“This is hard.” Ryan said. She didn’t know
what else to say. The police had found the Lincoln the day after
Ryan had pushed the bodies of her family off the bridge. They had
contacted Carol, and she had called Ryan.

The conversation had been halted and
strained. Carol not wanting to know too much, and Ryan worried she
would say too much. Ryan had been consumed with guilt over what had
happened, and the obvious pain Carol was in. They hadn’t been able
to get past the obligatory discussion about getting Carol’s parents
and brother back to New York, what to say to the media, and what
other arrangements had to be made.

“How were the funerals?” Ryan picked
nervously at the hem of her napkin. Carol and Ryan had decided it
was best if Ryan didn’t attend the services in New York. The media
coverage was scrutiny enough. Carol didn’t feel she had the
fortitude to stand next to Ryan and feign ignorance of her cousin’s
role in the death of her family.

“Exhausting.” Carol managed as she regained
her composure.

Ryan frowned. “I loved them.”

Carol shook her head. “I don’t see how that
can be true.”

Ryan struggled to keep her voice low. “You
weren’t there. They were trying to ki –”

Anger flashed across Carol’s eyes. “Don’t you
dare defend her!” Realizing how loud she had been, Carol lowered
her voice. “Don’t you dare tell me what she did was okay.”

Ryan leaned back in her chair just as Janelle
returned with their drinks. “Ladies, we have a few off menu items
this evening.”

Ryan looked up at the woman, and smiled.
“Could I trouble you to give us a few minutes, please?”

Sensing the tension between the two women,
Janelle seemed all too happy to be excused. “Certainly.”

Ryan turned her attention back to Carol, who
was drinking eagerly from her gin and tonic. “Don’t you even want
to know what happened?”

Carol shook her head and slammed the nearly
empty glass down on the table. “You mean the version you and she
concocted to mask the murder of three people? No – I’ll pass,
thanks.”

Ryan gasped. “You can’t believe I would do
that?”

Carol shrugged, unable to make eye contact
with Ryan. “Two weeks ago, no. But now – all the evidence points to
yes.”

Ryan reached for Carol’s hand, wanting
desperately to set things straight. She couldn’t lose her cousin on
top of everything else. Her affection was rebuffed as Carol moved
her hand, reaching for her glass instead. Ryan pulled her hand back
into her lap, and the two women sat in an unbearable silence.

“I should tell the police.” Carol spoke
casually, her voice even as she stared at her now empty glass.

A wave of panic washed over Ryan, her face
feeling flush with it. She didn’t know what Carol was playing at,
but the idea she would even consider turning Ryan and Leah in
galled Ryan, and she nearly hissed the words when she spoke.

“You do that, Carol. You tell them that your
parents and brother kidnapped a woman with the intent to burn her
alive because they believed she’s a witch.” Ryan tossed her napkin
on the table, the conversation turning her stomach.

Carol’s eyes shot up, her face red with
anger. “You’re not the only one that can spin a good tale. It
wouldn’t be that difficult to turn them onto her, and let the rest
fall as it may.”

Ryan grabbed Carol’s wrist, her fingers
digging into the woman’s skin. “Do you think this is a game?”

Carol wrenched her arm loose from Ryan. “I
know exactly what this is. You’ve let your love for this woman
blind you to everything you’ve lost.”

“What have I lost, Carol, that hadn’t already
been taken from me?” Ryan countered.

“Me!” Tears streamed down Carol’s cheeks. “I
can’t know you any more, Ryan. I can’t see you and know you were
involved in the murder of my parents and brother.” Carol wiped at
her face, her mascara darkening the space below her eyes.