Tight scratchy fabric scraped my cheek and covered my eyes. I tried to reach up and pull it off, but my hands were stuck behind me. I yanked and pulled at the restraints, quickly realizing they weren’t moving an inch. A sharp pain shot up my arm and across my shoulder. I ached all over.

  I tried to focus and assess the situation. Cat, money, note, cigar…

  “It had to be Vernon or the cat lady or both,” I thought to myself.

  Another puff of smoke tickled my nose and covered my mouth. I couldn’t breathe. I coughed it away. I should have listened to George when he tried to warn me about tipping my hand.

  I wondered if I could somehow harness my powers and get out of here. But, I still had no idea how to bring my powers up. They only seemed to come when they wanted to.

  I heard heavy breathing. Was he really going to kill me for figuring it out? He was the one who turned Earl’s face into an ashtray after saying he was going to do it.

  You were pretty much confessing to it with your known swirly H on that invoice and your ashtray comment…

  I thought it through a moment. It all made sense.

  More smoke sprayed my face. My eyes burned under the fabric. “Hello, Judith,” I said. I detected a small quiet gasp. I was right.

  Still, there was a pause.

  “If I figured it out, someone else will too,” I said, trying to knock the quiver out of my voice and sound confident.

  Fingers gouged at my cheeks as the blindfold was yanked up onto my forehead. I blinked and looked around. It was dark. A lone light bulb dangled from the ceiling off in a corner. Concrete walls and flooring. Shelves covering most of the room, full of cans and dried goods. I knew I must’ve been sitting in the middle of Earl’s underground bomb shelter. The living and dining room parts. I was tied to a dining room chair facing the entrance to the bunker, a simple couch to my side.

  Judith blew more smoke in my face. “I wasn’t going to un-blindfold you, but I guess it doesn’t matter at this point, anyway,” she said, puffing on her cigar. “How did you know it was me?”

  I knew she was only asking so she could tie up any loose ends on her part after she killed me. Maybe make it a bit harder for anyone else to figure this out. I also knew, though, that talking about it would buy me some time.

  I wiggled my hands around. The left one actually moved. “I wasn’t sure until this point. When Carla admitted covering up the crime scene, I have to admit I thought it was Vernon. But leaving the invoice and the ashtray face? Unless Vernon wanted to get caught, he wouldn’t have left those there. He was the one who told me I always needed to know my audience. Never think you’re not marketing because you always are. Plus, he was a Vietnam vet who probably would’e known not to leave a trail for enemies to follow.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Spare me the rest. It doesn’t matter now,” she said as she extinguished her cigar into the cement floor. She carefully picked it up with one of her gloved hands, and placed it into an empty Ziploc bag from her pocket. She took out another bag and removed a used cigar from it, throwing it at the floor by my chair.

  “Let me guess. One of Vernon’s cigars.”

  She nodded. “Vernon’s too easy. He should really stop leaving his DNA-filled cigars laying around the gun range. But that’s what the police will find when they discover your body down here. A smoking gun, so to speak. And you’re wrong. I do know my audience. They’re a bunch of busy cops looking for easy connections to solve their crimes so they can check something off their list. DNA cigars can’t make this any easier.”

  Damn it. She was right about that one. Plus, I all but told Brandon that Vernon had done it.

  I decided to try to stall this woman as long as I could. It was my only hope of escaping. The rope was tight but in the video I watched about escaping restraints, even tight ones were escapable. Pulling my hands apart as far as I could, I continued twisting and wiggling my left hand.

  Fortunately, Judith liked to hear her own voice. “It’s a shame Vernon didn’t just kill Earl himself when he found out about the embezzlement. He should have. A normal person would have. I guess their friendship was tighter than I thought.”

  It was easier to wiggle when I was talking. “So, you were the one who embezzled the money from the company?”

  “Of course, dimwit. It was supposed to be me and my dad going into business together. It was all we talked about before he went to live in the bunker those five years. But when he came out, it was pretty apparent, he was too far gone with Alzheimer’s to do anything. Survivalist Supplies was my idea. I put the money up for that business. I had the business training, the idea, and the money. I shouldn’t have to split profits with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum because they knew some marketing.”

  “So you turned them on each other, embezzled the money, and framed Earl for it. But Vernon didn’t kill him like you planned.”

  “Nope. The nitwit. He just never talked to Earl again and went on with his life. A marketing consultant? Is that even a real job, anyway?”

  I nodded, still wiggling my hands.

  Judith didn’t notice. She was busy looking through the designer bag she had on the back table under the light bulb. “So I had to think of a Plan B. I badly forged Earl’s signature on some incriminating invoices, making it look like Vernon had done it with the ridiculous swirly H he’s known for. Of course, Earl was on to him as soon as he found those, and it just made sense that Vernon would kill Earl to cover his tracks.”

  Judith brought out a small gun from her bag and inspected it. “And now, he’s going to kill you for figuring it out, or that’s how the story will go. But for the record, Earl was a terrible man who deserved what he got. You saw the way he treated people. Calling people hussies. Swinging around a baseball bat. His own daughter. Just look at where she was living, how she was living. He should have done more.”

  “You’re so kind,” I said, instantly kicking myself for my sarcasm. Everyone knows you have to suck up to the killer if you want to live longer.

  “I was kind,” she said. “You have no idea. I actually tried to help her. Did she tell you that? I told her she should sell tickets to her father’s funeral. She wouldn’t do it.”

  Somehow, I stopped myself from saying something else sarcastic. “So, just out of curiosity. How’d you do it, anyway?”

  She took the bait and continued talking while I made a little headway on the rope. It was a slower process than the three-minute Youtube video made it seem like it was going to be. That’s always the case, though.

  “That’s the best part,” she said. “I slipped Dirk a sleeping pill, went to this very bunker and waited until I heard Earl cleaning his guns. He always watched his prepper reality show when he cleaned his guns every Friday night. Poor stupid man. I knew that meant the gun cabinet was unlocked. And his secret entrance down to the bunker. Never show a pattern. That’s a weakness. And change the locks on your bunker when you get divorced.”

  She paused to smile to herself. “I snuck up through the back tunnel. It leads right up into his house, right by his gun cabinet. I grabbed his favorite gun, and from there, let’s just say, he never saw it coming. I smoked some of a cigar, like I did here, put it out on Earl’s face, and left Vernon’s used one by the body along with the invoice. I exited through the front door so it would look like he’d let in his old friend. It was perfect. The church lady with the casserole would find him the next day, and the cops would have a pretty easy case.”

  “You didn’t count on Carla tampering with the crime scene and taking the cigar and the invoice away, though.”

  “Who knew she was in love with Vernon? Well, there will be no doubt Vernon did it this time. I texted him using your phone and told him to meet you here because you knew who killed Earl. And unlike you, I make sure my texts go to the right people.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “How do you think I slashed your tires, you twit? I texted you the picture of Earl’s cat and you texted me back that you were going on a dinner cruise.”

  My head hurt trying to remember who I texted that to.

  Judith was pacing now. “Smart people back off when they get threatened, Marcie. But, I guess, everything happens for a reason. After I kill you, dump the cigar, and wait for Vernon to show up. It’ll look like a murder suicide. We just have to wait, so your deaths will be close enough to be believable.”

  Loud thumping from the metal hatch doors outside echoed through the bunker, followed by clanking and grunting. Someone was headed down the ladder. Judith yanked the blindfold from off my forehead and tied it tightly over my mouth. “He’s early. Stupid eager man.”

  “What in the world? A Cold War era bunker? No way.”

  It was Brandon. Brandon? What was he doing in Earl’s backyard? He was going to get himself killed. But I couldn’t yell to warn him. Even making a loud mumbling noise through my gag would probably get us both killed.

  Judith froze when she heard his voice. There was no time for her to run across the room and close the thick bunker door when she realized it wasn’t Vernon. She ducked behind my chair as Brandon entered. He stumbled into the darkness of the bomb shelter, blinking and coughing while his eyes adjusted to the bad lighting and cigar smoke.

  “Marcie?” he said, cocking his head to the side as soon as he saw me gagged and tied to a chair. He dropped the plastic grocery bag he was carrying. Lemons rolled out everywhere, and my feet tingled against their rope restraints. Had he been stealing lemons off Earl’s tree… for me? Great. The most romantic thing a man’s ever done for me and it was on my deathbed. Because that’s my luck.

  “Wait a second. The world may not be out to get you yet,” I reminded myself just as my left hand broke free of its restraint. I waited to pull it out because Judith was right behind me.

  She sprung out from the back of my chair, practically lunging at Brandon. “Isn’t this nice?” she said, motioning with the barrel of her gun. “Come sit down on the floor next to your girlfriend. We were just discussing Vernon’s next two murders.”

  While her back was turned, I worked on the knots at my feet. Thankfully, they were easier than my hands. I pulled the gag off next, trying to figure out how to grab the gun from Judith while she was concentrating on Brandon.

  I flicked my hand around, trying to turn my powers on like a light switch. Nothing tingled. Where were these stupid powers, anyway?

  Seeing me untied, Brandon put his hands up and tried to stall the woman. “Look, no one needs to get hurt here. We have all the time in the world. Let’s just talk a minute.”

  Judith stomped over and grabbed his arm when he didn’t move fast enough. “Come on,” she snapped, turning him around so he was facing away from me now. “Let’s get this over with.”

  It was now or never. Time for me to let Brandon know I was making a move.

  I picked up one of the lemons that had rolled by my feet. “Lemon!” I yelled, throwing it at the back of Judith’s head. Of course, it missed and hit the wall, knocking over several cans from off the supply shelf. But Judith turned toward the noise just enough for Brandon to lunge forward and grab onto the gun.

  She yanked it back, and they both pulled and tugged on the weapon, stumbling across the room and falling against the table.

  The light bulb overhead swung wildly on its cord, sending flickering shadows everywhere. I knew I should do more than just scream out lemon. I wanted to help, but I had no idea what to do. It was dark and I was sure I might make things worse.

  I pictured the outcome I wanted. Judith shoots herself. Judith shoots herself.

  George had told me I couldn’t let regular people see me using my powers and there were two regular people right here. Plus, he also told me you couldn’t use your powers to kill someone. Damn it. Too many things to remember in the moment. And the worst one — my powers weren’t coming, anyway. No tingly fingers.

  I looked up. Brandon was getting the upper hand, maybe. They were still tugging on the gun, but Judith was very strong, was obviously trained in self defense, and wasn’t giving up. I ran over to them trying to flick my powers on with every step. I didn’t even feel a tingle.

  My face suddenly grew hot, looking at Judith, remembering the way she’d talked at Earl’s funeral, the way she’d thrown Prince Charles away, the way she treated life.

  My fingers tingled. I felt energy everywhere. I flicked my fingers at the gun, picturing Brandon taking it.

  Bang!

  The gun went off. Brandon dropped to the floor, blood dripping from his side. That was not the “taking it” I had intended.

  Chapter 28

  Taking it

  I screamed and took off running toward the back of the bunker down a short hall that forked at the end. I hesitated for half a second then made the decision to go left. There was no time to see if Brandon was okay. I could hear Judith coming up behind me.

  “It’s no use,” she said, yelling across the bunker. “I’ll just be honest. You went the wrong way, and you’re pretty much trapped back there, especially since you don’t know where anything is. Too bad I do. I used to come down here a lot just to get away from Earl. You can probably imagine that, right?”

  I didn’t answer. It was dark down the hall. I flicked on the overhead lightbulb, realizing I was pretty much looking at nothing. Why did I always pick wrong when the odds were 50/50?

  She went on. “The right would have led to the bedrooms with a ladder up to Earl’s house. There’s nothing to the left side. Nothing but storage and a water tank.” She laughed. “But neither side would have been a good choice, actually. It’s just your time to go.”

  Damp earth and sulfur smells came at me from all sides. I tried to breathe, but the walls seemed to be growing closer now, tighter. I knew it was all psychological, just my claustrophobia acting up. “Breathe, Marcie,” I told myself. But all I could think about was Brandon. This was all my fault. If I hadn’t been so indecisive. If I hadn’t been so paralyzed by my own fear of making a mistake. Of needing my powers to take care of things and not knowing how to do it. Damn it.

  Judith was right. A smart person would not have even been in this situation.

  And she was also right about me being trapped. There was a small alcove with a water heater, and not much room for anything else.

  I had to head in the other direction, but there was no way I was going to be able to run past Judith and up the bunker’s ladder without getting shot. I needed to think fast.

  As my eyes adjusted to the walls around me, I saw a large supply elevator at the back of the tunnel near the water heater alcove. That must’ve been how Judith got me down here after she knocked me out. It must lead up to the porch area with the cat somehow.

  I was tempted to take it, but it was tiny and weird. Instead, I closed its doors, and pushed the button to send it up empty. Then I shimmied in between the tank and the wall in the alcove and tried not to think about how everything seemed to be closing in around me.

  Judith ran over to the elevator. “Come back down or your boyfriend’s a goner. You hear me?” she yelled up the shaft. Her usually calm voice was high and panicked. “I’ll make sure of that! Right in the head like I did Earl. And trust me, you’ll go nowhere. That door’s locked up there anyway.”

  She grunted furiously and raised the gun up the shaft, ready to shoot the empty elevator.

  “Hello?” Vernon’s voice yelled out from the backyard entrance of the bunker. Judith stopped and went to head him off. While pulling myself out of the dark corner, I rested my hand on something long and thin as I pried my way free. I looked back. Down, behind the water tank, I spotted the perfect weapon.

  “Hello, Marcie?” Vernon said into the dark of the bunker. “I got your message. What’s going on? And what the hell?”

  I pushed myself against the wall of the hallway, watching as Vernon walked toward Brandon, who was still bleeding on the floor of the dining area.

  Judith raised her gun at Vernon. “Glad you could make it.”

  He stumbled back and put his hands over his head. “Judith, why?”

  Sneaking up behind her, I put my finger over my lips to shush Vernon from tipping her off, not that I thought he would.

  Let’s just say, Judith never knew what hit her, but Vernon and I did. A baseball bat to the back of her head. She fell to the floor, the gun flying from her hand.

  Vernon picked it up and we rushed to Brandon. His gray sweater was coated in blood, and his face was pale and lifeless. Vernon handed me his phone and told me to call 911.

  My hand fumbled with the screen as my racing mind tried to remember the simple steps involved in making an emergency call.

  Vernon lifted Brandon’s sweater and inspected his wound. He smiled at me. “He’s gonna be fine. Al hombre osado, la fortuna le da la mano. Fortune favors the brave.”

  Brandon’s eyes blinked open. “Did I get shot?”

  Vernon patted his shoulder. “You’re pretty lucky, buddy. It’s just a nick. Maybe a nick and a half.”

  I realized I was holding my breath and I let myself take a long exhale.

  “Lemon?” Brandon whispered when he saw me kneeling over him. “Did you really yell ‘lemon’ to get my attention before you threw a lemon?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I’m pretty witty like that,” I said, dialing the phone. “Good thing your profile says you like a sense of humor.”

  He closed his eyes when he laughed, grabbing his side.

  Chapter 29

  A Power like no other

  Megan’s boys ran around my living room in race-car driver costumes, “vrooming” and crashing into each other while I carefully added lines of liquid eyeliner onto Violet’s round freckled cheeks. She adjusted her cheetah ears and bit into her pizza.

  “Violet, you have got to stay still while I do this,” I said, licking my finger and fixing the smudge.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22