Pay Up and Die (16 page)

The pantry was a walk-in of modest dimensions. Rachel kept canned goods, jarred sauces and pastas in the pantry. It was also large enough that most of the basic cleaning supplies were stored in it. The pantry was also the entryway to the garage through a laundry room. When they first bought the house, Rachel disliked the setup because of the inconvenience of having to walk through two rooms to go from the garage to the kitchen. But her opinion had changed. The functionality was better than she had originally hoped, keeping laundry and garages far from the sight of guests who might visit.

Rachel stopped before opening the pantry door. She knew that it was unlikely that anyone was in the pantry but she still felt creeped out from the figure she saw in the backyard. She grasped the pistol in her bathrobe and then yanked the pantry door open. The pantry was quiet and dark. So she hit the light switch, lighting up the stocked shelves and containers. Everything was still neatly in its alphabetized order. She stared at the door to the laundry room. It was closed, but stood ominously against the secluded laundry room.

Tightening her robe against the chill she felt, Rachel approached the laundry room door. As she neared the door she heard a crash. It sounded muffled, like it was from the garage and not on the near side of the laundry room. But she cowered in fear anyway. She took the pistol out of the bathrobe pocket and raised it to her eye level. Rachel shook with anticipation that her fears were coming true. Part of her wanted to turn and run to Derrick for safety. The other part of her didn’t want to embarrass him or herself by acting like a coward. She steeled herself to check the situation on her own. What could go wrong? She tried to sell herself that she had a big old gun and that whoever might be on the other end of the barrel had more to worry about then she did.

Rachel took hold of the knob and quickly pulled the door open. The laundry room was dark. But the moonlight streaming in through the window exposed the fact that the door to the garage was open. She crept slowly, inch by inch, with the gun straight out in front of her. There was some shuffling noise and something else that she had not heard before. Rachel struggled to recognize the familiar sound because the situation and the timing were completely opposite what somebody would expect. She reached the precipice of the garage door and peered to the left towards the driveway. The sounds were coming from that direction but it was too dark to make out. She used her left hand to fumble for the light switch in the garage while keeping the gun pointed with her right hand.

Her fingers found the switch and she flicked it up. The neon lights shined brightly throughout the garage. But what Rachel saw was horrifying. Her first instinct was to scream. Her next instinct was to run. She wasn’t able to scream or run. Rachel was rooted to the cement floor in shock. The garage was usually off-white with a dull gray floor. At this moment, everything was crimson red. A man was sawing something on the trunk of her car. The sound of the saw blade catching the car’s exterior screeched her into consciousness. The large man turned and stared at her.

In one hand he held a bald head by one of the ears. The eyes were blueish and wide open. The mouth hung open as the tongue protruded at a grotesque angle. The large man’s other hand held a pruning saw with a short, curved blade. The hundreds of sharp teeth were covered in blood and a few pieces of rubbery skin. Behind her car was Derrick’s wheelbarrow. It had never been used until this moment. It was filled with incongruent gore. Arms and legs were piled in it, one leg half hanging off the wheelbarrow. A huge puddle of blood spread from under the utility. And Rachel noticed the severed torso resting on the blood-soaked trunk of her car.

“Don’t be afraid. I am Derrick’s bodyguard. I saw this man sneaking into the house.”

Rachel was still speechless. The gun was no longer pointing forward. It sagged toward the floor in her drooping hand. Her mind struggled to make sense of the scene. She still wanted to scream but found no voice in her throat.

The large man dropped the head with a buttery slap into the disgusting wheelbarrow. He slowly approach Rachel with his bloody hands pleading for her to remain calm.

“It’s gonna be okay. This guy won’t hurt you now. He won’t be hurting anyone. I just want to do my job and protect Derrick and your family. I am Derrick’s friend.”

Rachel blinked the tears that streamed down her cheeks. Her vision was blurred and she began to break down. She dropped the gun on the floor and slid down to the cement. Her body shook with relief and she held herself tight. The Debt Collector wiped his hands on a towel that was hanging on the workbench. He then crouched down and hugged Rachel to his chest. She felt more secure in the big man’s arms as they swallowed her up like she was a little bird.

“It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. Just let it out. I’m here now. I’m here now.”

Rachel smelled the blood all around her. She felt warm and safe in this strange man’s embrace. But she still had chills like something scary was lurking in the dark, waiting to get her. She shivered into his chest and she could swear that she felt his cheek rise up in a smile against her head.

Chapter 37

The twins started screaming in the foyer when they saw Michael tackle their father. Michael knew they were scared and confused. He would have been too if he were a little kid who saw some strange man jumping on his father. The ear-piercing screams made Michael pause and look back over his shoulder. The two little girls were clutching each other tightly. They wore matching white pajamas with pink and yellow circus animals on them.

“Hey, uh, girls. Everything is okay. I’m just talking to your daddy.” Michael rolled off Derrick onto his knees. He held out his hands to try to pacify the girls and get them to stop screaming. A nauseating pit formed in his stomach. He felt so guilty for dragging these innocent kids into the situation. All the fire in his system deflated like a popped balloon.

The sisters continued to scream but the continuous siren sound became a little more intermittent and less eardrum shattering. They cried in each other’s arms and looked afraid of Michael. He rose to his feet to show them that they weren’t fighting anymore.

“I’m so sorry we disturbed you. Your daddy and I were just talking and then we decided to wrestle a bit. You know, like friends playing rough in the yard. It’s okay now. Nobody is going to get hurt.”

As Michael tried to convince the girls that the situation was under control, he sensed Derrick moving behind him. Before he could turn to see what Derrick was doing, he felt his nose smash in. Derrick had crushed his face with a heavy pewter duck which had been on one of the tables. Michael saw stars and his vision faded into blackness as he clutched his broken face. He tasted the blood that streamed down his face into his hands. The pain was so horrendous that Michael dropped to his knees and rested his face on the floor which was pooling his blood.

“Madison, Chloe. Go back to your room. Daddy got the bad man. He...he was here to rob us and take our money. But I got him. See? Go back upstairs and I’ll come tuck you in after I get rid of the bad guy.”

The girls continued to cry. They had loosened their grip on each other but still held hands and cowered in fear. Madison spoke through her sobs, “Daddy, call the police to get the bad man. Why is he here?”

“It’s okay Maddy. Listen to me. Everything is fine. You and Chloe go upstairs, okay?”

“But where is Mommy. Why is that man hurting you?”

“I told you he is a robber.” Derrick looked down at Michael who was still writhing in pain on the floor. “Daddy is taking care of this. Now go upstairs to your room and close the door.”

“I want Mommy. Where is Mommy? We’re scared and we need the police to come. Call 911. Call 911 like they told us in school, Daddy.”

“Get upstairs! Now!” Derrick yelled at the girls. They stopped crying in mid-sob. Both girls stared at their father in disbelief as he had never raised his voice like this before. Madison grabbed Chloe’s hand and the twins went up the stairs. They began crying again as they climbed up to their room.

Michael lifted his head enough to see Derrick standing over him. His face was throbbing and he was busy trying to stop the blood flow. For the first time since he got in the house, Michael thought about Murph. He wondered where he was and hoped that he would come in like gangbusters right about now.

“What am I going to do with you, Michael? You come into my home and you accuse me of abducting your son and then you scare my daughters.” Derrick was furious and yelling now. He kicked Michael in the gut, putting an exclamation point on his anger.

Michael couldn’t respond. His head was pounding, making the headache he had earlier seem like a mild annoyance. He figured the pewter duck must have weighed three of four pounds and with the velocity that Derrick brought it into his face with, it quickly became more powerful than a mule kick. He cursed himself for not seeing it coming. He should have stood in a position where he could keep the twins and their father in his line of sight. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to think about it now. He needed to get out of this before Derrick got the cops to arrest him. If he went to jail he would never be able to provide for his family and find his son. How would he take care of his daughter from a prison cell, he wondered?

“So many ways to handle things and this is what you do. Now I have a big mess on my hands and how am I going to clean this up, Michael? How?”

Derrick squeezed Michael’s hair and pulled his head up so he could look into his eyes. Derrick looked crazed, his eyes glaring right through Michael’s. He was breathing heavily and spittle flew from his lips as he exhaled each time.

“A mess. That’s what this is. This could ruin me. You know what you have done to me?” Derrick let go of Michael’s hair and walked in a small circle around the upended table. “All I wanted was that fucking CEO job and you come along and fuck it all up. Well, I can’t have that, Michael. I won’t let you take this from me and my family.”

Michael tried to send his brain waves out to Murph, hoping that such a thing existed and could bring Murph to his rescue. He tried to estimate how long he had been in the house now and he supposed it had been almost ten minutes. Murph should have gotten in already unless he ran into a problem. But Murph was a combat veteran and well versed in these types of situations. It didn’t make sense as to why Murph hadn’t shown up yet.

“I didn’t want to do this, Michael, but you left me no choice. I have to end this before it goes any further. It’s bad enough I have to explain this to my wife and girls now, but if it gets out to the Board and the police...then I’m ruined.” Derrick appeared to resolve himself with his hands on his hips. His eyes searched the room for options invisible to the naked eye. He ran a hand through his hair, nodding down at Michael.

Derrick reached for the mangled cordless phone on the floor and then threw it against the wall. He dug his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. Derrick raised the phone to his ear and waited for the other party to answer. Michael heard a cell phone ringing somewhere else in the house. He hoped it was Murph coming to his aid. The sound of the ringing cell phone got closer as the person who was carrying it approached the living room. Michael’s stomach began to twist as he realized that Murph would not have his ringer on if he was breaking into someone’s house. He began to sink as he felt his chances of rescue fading with each ring.

Michael looked up at Derrick as he turned toward the foyer. Derrick lowered the phone to his side as the large man darkened the doorway. Derrick looked confused while Michael frowned. It wasn’t Murph.

The Debt Collector looked at both men and then focused his attention on Derrick. “You rang?”

Chapter 38

“Martin. What are you doing here? In my house?”

The Debt Collector wiped blood from his hands all over a stained towel. He smirked as he did so, taking his time to respond to Derrick’s question.

“Martin, I asked you a question. How did you get in my house? I just called you. There’s no way you could have gotten here this quickly. And whose blood is all over your hands? I hope you didn’t bring one of your toys to my house.”

Michael was surprised by the visitor. The man was so large and reminded him of a professional wrestler. The man was as wide as he was tall. His hands looked like those big green foam fists that people wore to football games. The only word that kept flashing in Michael’s mind was “massive.”

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“You were in the neighborhood? Doing what?”

Derrick’s frustration was evident in his tone. He wanted answers and the big man seemed to be toying with Derrick’s patience.

“I was passing through and I saw someone running into your backyard.” The Debt Collector looked down at his hands as he continued to mop up the bloody mess. “So I decided to check it out.”

Derrick shifted his feet. He looked flustered with the responses and then acknowledged the possibility based on his wife’s complaint.

“My wife said she saw someone lurking in the backyard but I didn’t believe her. Guess it was true.” Derrick turned to look down at Michael. “Did you bring a friend along with you, Michael?”

Michael sunk into the floor. Was Murph hurt badly and in need of help? Then Michael jumped to another possibility. Had Murph lost his life trying to help him out? He felt horrible for all the problems he had caused tonight. He hated himself for continuing to make things worse for his family.

Derrick didn’t need to wait for an answer. He could see it on Michael’s face.

“So you took care of the problem? I guess I should thank you but you still haven’t answered my question. How did you get in my house? The fact that you are in my home is a problem.”