Sam: A Novel Of Suspense (27 page)

Sammie
laughed even harder.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“Mike,
what the hell are you doing?” Jessica shouted.

Angela’s
stomach acids crashed against the rocks of her abdomen, making her want to
vomit.  The sight of a knife against flesh had always set her teeth on edge,
ever since Jersey.  Seeing a blade against the throat of a child was even
worse.  But she knew there would be two sides of the story that was unfolding
in front of her.

“Hey,
man,” Tim said, raising up his open palm.  “Maybe we should just put the knives
away.  Things never end well when people start brandishing weapons.”

“I’d
be inclined to agree,” said Sammie, extremely calm for a child with a blade
against his throat.  “Such barbaric actions, Michael.  I’m embarrassed for
you.”

Mike
grabbed Sammie by the scruff of his neck and got him in a classic
hostage-taking chokehold.  He held the malicious-looking combat knife beneath
the boy’s left eyeball.  “You just keep your goddamn mouth closed, you little
shit.  Maybe I should take your eye out like you tried to do to me.”

Jessica
screamed at Mike not to.  Angela wasn’t sure if he was bluffing or had totally
lost it.  From the look of his trembling hands and darting glances, it didn’t seem
like Mike was in full control of himself.  His usually cool demeanour had
slipped, falling away like a satin sheet from an unveiled painting. All that
was left was a frantic shell of a man.

“Let’s
not do anything hasty,” Angela said.  “We’re all on edge with what’s been
happening around here.  You must be even more upset about Graham’s death seeing
as he was your colleague.  Is that what this is about?  Do you hold Sammie
responsible?”

Mike
laughed at them.  “He
is
responsible.  What the fuck do you think’s been
going on around here?  Open your eyes, idiots.”

“What
do you mean?” Angela asked.

“Wake
up,” Mike shouted at them.  “This is
all
because of Sammie.  He’s not a
boy.  He’s more than that – so much more.  He is his father’s son, and his
father was a great man.”

“You
mean Joseph?” asked Tim.

Mike
laughed.  “No, I do not.  Tell them, Jessica.  Tell them what a whore you are.”

Jessica
was distraught.  Whether it was due to Mike’s accusations or because her son
was in peril was unclear.  Probably it was both.  “How do you know?” she asked
Mike in a voice that had become very submissive.  “How do you know that?”

“Mommie? 
What is the nasty man talking about?”

“I’m
sorry, Sammie.”  Jessica looked at Angela and Tim and began to explain.  “When
I met Joseph I was just a young woman and he was always away at his father’s
beck and call.  I used to get lonely.”

“I
think I see where this is going,” Tim commented.

“I
used to go to bars,” Jessica admitted.  “I used to…used to pick up men and
bring them home.”  Jessica wiped a tear from her eye.  “But it was hardly
ever.  Once in a blue moon.”

“Well
turns out it was often enough for you to get pregnant by another man,” said
Mike spitefully.

“Who
was it?” Angela asked.  “Who is Sammie’s father?”

“A
stranger.  I…I met him only once.  He was just some charmer with an Irish
accent and I couldn’t resist.  I fell pregnant and that was the last time I
ever…you know, cheated on Joseph.”

Angela
patted her on the back.  “We all commit sin, Jessica.  It’s whether or not we
repent that truly matters.”

Mike
sniggered.  “Oh, I don’t think you’d be so forgiving if you knew the full
story.”

“Let
my son go!” said Jessica, managing to regain some of her resolve.  She took a
step forward and pointed her finger.  “You’re finished, Mike.  By the time I’m
through with you, you won’t be able to show your face in public ever again. 
You’re lucky I don’t have you killed.”

Mike
chuckled.  “Now that sounds more like it, darling.  Black Remedy would be ecstatic
to hear you talking like that.”

Jessica
stared daggers at him.  “Those days are over.  My husband was dedicated to
cleaning the company up.  I’m going to finish what he started.”

“Think
you might find some opposition there; most notably from your precious son.  The
company will be his one day and you can trust me when I tell you his methods
are going to differ from yours and Joseph’s.”

“I
don’t know what you’re talking about, Mike, but you have three seconds to let
go of my son before I come over there and rip you apart.”

Mike
wrapped his arm tighter around Sammie’s neck and pointed the knife at Jessica. 
“You stay back, bitch!”

“What
did you call me?”

“I
called you a bitch.  The only reason you’re anything is because you sucked off a
rich guy good enough that he married you.”

“How
dare you!”  Jessica ran at Mike with her fingernails outstretched like claws.

Mike
threw Sammie against the bar, his head cracking against the thick wooden
surface. Then he readied himself for Jessica’s attack: legs apart, shoulders
wide, knife pointed out in front of him.  Their bodies collided in a flurry of
limbs. Jessica’s nails swiped furiously at Mike’s face, drawing blood, but Mike
just smiled.

Suddenly
Jessica’s ferocity diminished.  Her flailing arms weakened, eventually falling
to her sides.

Angela’s
breath caught in her chest when Jessica turned around to face her.  Blood
mushroomed through the woman’s blouse, its central point emanating from a spot
inches above her heart.

Mike
still clutched the combat knife in his hands, but now it was dripping red –
soaked with Jessica’s blood.

Jessica
reached out a hand to Angela despite being several feet away.  She didn’t know
why, but Angela couldn’t help herself from reaching back with her own hand, as
if she could somehow stretch her limbs and pull the woman over to her. 
Instead, Jessica fell to her knees before slumping onto her side and bleeding
out on the floor.

Angela
looked down at Jessica’s body and then stared at Mike in disbelief.  “What have
you done?”

Mike
huffed.  “What I needed to.  Now I’m going to end this whole fucking thing. 
Screw the Black Strand, screw this house, and most of all, screw this kid.” 
Mike wiped the combat knife off on his clothing and then looked down at Sammie
who was unconscious against the bar.  Mike strolled over to him and held the
knife with the tip pointing downwards towards his body.  “Time to die, you little
bastard.”

Angela
screamed out, “No!”  But it was too late.  She would never make it over to Mike
in time to keep him from delving the knife into Sammie’s soft torso.  He was
going to kill the boy.

Mike
rose the knife up above his head and brought it down hard.

An
explosion rang out behind Angela that funnelled in through her ears and filled
her skull.  It left her unable to hear anything but ringing.

The
knife fell to the ground, skittering across the tiles.  Thankfully it never
reached its target.

The
look on Mike’s face was one of stunned surprise.  There was a small well of
blood forming in the very centre of his chest. Then another explosion sounded and
his head tore apart.  Mike’s limp body fell to the floor.

Frank
pushed past Angela and made his way across the piano lounge until he was
standing right over Mike’s body.  He fired the gun one more time.  The bullet
finished off what was left of Mike’s head.

After
a few seconds had passed, during which Frank stared silently at the remains of
the man he’d just killed, he finally turned around then slumped against the
nearest table.  It was clear Frank was hurt but before he collapsed completely,
he was still able to say one last thing: “Can’t leave you people alone for a
minute, can I?”

CHAPTER THRTY-SIX

Angela
and Tim managed to prop Frank up on a chair.  He was woozy but still conscious.

Angela
put a hand against his cheek; it was like a block of ice.  “Frank, what
happened to you?”

Frank’s
eyes fluttered and then focused.  “Car crash.  I flipped into a ditch.  Just
got out before the whole thing went up in flames.”

Angela
poured him a scotch from a bottle on the table.  “It’s a miracle you’re alive. 
How did you get back here?”

“Walked.”

“You
walked?” Tim asked incredulously.  “You got up and walked home after flipping
your car into a ditch?”

Frank
nodded weakly.  “I was…seeing things.  I just started walking.  I didn’t even
know where I was going, but somehow I ended up back here.”

“Good
thing too,” Tim said, looking down at Mike’s bloodied corpse.  “You saved the
day.”

Frank
creased his brow as if he had a headache.  “What the hell was Mike doing anyway? 
Why was he trying to hurt Sammie?”

“I
don’t know,” Angela admitted truthfully.  “He just lost it.  Stabbed Jessica
and was going to do the same to her son.”

Frank’s
bloodshot eyes went wide.  “He stabbed Jessica?”  He leapt up from the chair
and searched the darkened room, shoving aside tables as he checked each shadowy
corner.  When his gaze fell upon Jessica’s body beside the bar, he flung
himself down beside her. He cradled her limp form in his arms.  “Jessica! 
Jessica, wake up.”

Angela
stepped over Mike’s body and crouched down beside Frank.  “She’s gone.  I’m
sorry.”

“No,
she’s not,” Frank growled.  “We just need to get help.”

Angela
put a hand on Frank’s shoulder and tried to ease him away, but he was having
none of it; he ignored her as if she were a pestering fly.  Tenderly, he placed
his hand against Jessica’s cheek.

Jessica’s
eyes opened. 

She
coughed, spluttered.  Flecks of blood spewed out of her mouth.

Frank
shuddered visibly with relief.  “Jessica!  Thank God.  We’re going to get you
help.  Everything will be fine, I promise you.”

Jessica’s
eyes were dilated and it was hard to tell exactly what she was seeing – if she
was seeing anything at all.  “Frank,” she muttered.  “Is that you?”

“Yes,
sweetheart.  It’s me.”

“I
can’t feel anything.  I-I…”

“It’s
going to be okay.  We’re going to get help.  Try not to talk.”

Angela
knew that no help would get there quick enough.  Jessica might be alive right
now, but it was temporary.  Angela could already hear the chain stoking of her
lungs.  The woman would be dead within minutes.

Jessica’s
pupils were like pinpricks as they looked up at Frank.  “F-Frank…listen to me.”

Frank
finally seemed to realise that their time together was short.  He stayed quiet
as Jessica spoke her final words.

“Promise
me that…you will look after Sammie.  Promise me…

Frank
blinked away tears, wept.  The emotion seemed foreign on his strong, angular
face.  “I promise you, Jessica,” he vowed.  “I swear to you that I will always
keep him safe.”

There
was silence as they all waited for Jessica’s next words, but she was gone.

Angela
placed her hand on Frank’s shoulder again and this time he allowed her to pull
him away.  “I’m sorry, Frank.  She’s in a better place now.”

Frank
said nothing.

Angela
looked down at Jessica and thought that the woman finally seemed at peace. 
Since she’d arrived at the house, Jessica had appeared to be a highly-strung,
deeply-troubled person.  At least now her troubles were over.

“Hey,”
said Tim, breaking the silence.  “How did you get inside the house, Frank?”

Frank
shrugged, as if the question was stupid.  “How do you think?  I came in through
the front door.”

Angela
and Tim looked at each other.  She knew they were both thinking the same thing. 
This was their chance to escape.  As much as Angela wanted to stay and help
Sammie, right now they needed to reach the authorities.  They couldn’t fail to
report the presence of three dead bodies.

“Come
on,” said Tim.  “We can finally get out of here.”

Angela
didn’t argue.  She and Tim hurried out of the piano lounge and back into the
foyer.  Frank stayed behind with Jessica, cradling her in his arms and
whispering things that were known only to him.

In
the foyer, Angela faced an amazing sight: the front door hanging wide open. 
They were finally free of the infernal house.

We
can finally get out of here before anybody else is hurt.

Tim
grabbed Angela’s arm.  “Come on,” he said.

They
sprinted towards the door, the fresh air outside a simple yet irresistible goal.

Angela
hadn’t realised how much she’d wanted out of the house until now.  The thought
of hurtling down the front steps and onto the driveway felt like a veil of
malignant oppression lifting from her face.  She would return to help Sammie,
but right now she needed to get the hell out of Raymeady Manor.  They needed to
regroup.