Case Four-The Damned

Trudy turned the borrowed pickup truck onto the snow-covered alley, careful not to run over the neighbor’s trash cans that were rolling over the icy roadway. A thud from the gear shifter erupted as she abruptly put the vehicle in park before opening the door. Frigid air blasted her cheeks when she bent down to pick up the wayward containers. The plastic handles were brittle from the negative temperature and crackled in her hands. After securing them against the garage she leaped back into the toasty interior of Jason’s truck. It smelled of new leather and his cologne. Rosewood and cardamom tickled her nostrils as she breathed deep. Her heart skipped a beat thinking of his arrival this evening and how she’d show him how much she had missed him while he was gone. A smile spread across her face, she knew Jason hated to leave and wondered how he was handling his ex-wife’s constant nagging. Lisa, who was also his real estate agent, was assisting him in selling his home. Last week the two had been at odds over curb appeal, Lisa wanting him to power wash the front porch and Jason balking over the impossible task in the freezing temperatures. A low chuckle escaped her lips thinking of Jason’s pained expression and twenty-minute rant as he had filled Trudy in on Lisa’s demands.

She wrapped her hands tightly around the steering wheel, its heat warmed her fingertips as she pressed her foot to the accelerator and propelled the vehicle up the narrow road. Trudy realized that she had never felt jealous of Jason’s bond with Lisa, maybe a bit insecure at times. The two were forever connected by two daughters, but as her relationship to her ex, David, the romantic love that had been, was one based on youth hope, and dreams. Now, with Jason, the love was different. It was real in-your-face passion, friendship, a partnership built upon heart-stopping attraction, respect, and strangely enough independence.

Curious, she studied a rental car parked in Ferguson’s driveway. Something was off, she could sense it. Noticing the Florida license plate, familiar ribbons of unease wrapped around her throat. Trudy knew the family had left two days ago for the Bahamas.

Slowly, Trudy nudged the truck further down the alley.

Boy, I must be getting old, she thought, smirking as she lowered the volume on the radio so she could focus better.

Three Days Grace now mumbled over the speakers while she squinted; scanning the backyards of the tiny suburban homes and looked for anything out of sorts. A set of footsteps in the snow along the alley leading to her driveway, gave Trudy pause as she slowly passed the entrance and parked at the end of the road.

Sunlight glinted sharply as she looked toward the rear of the house. She reached under the seat and pulled out a flat black case and took a deep breath to settle the jumbled nerves that coiled in her belly. She unzipped the case and loaded the magazine before holstering the 9 mm at the back of her waistband. Trudy once again slipped from the warm interior and into the single-digit temperature that gripped the late afternoon. The snow crunched loudly as she crept around the back of the garage. Stopping to listen, she heard Rocky yipping and howling from the confines of her bedroom on the second floor.

“Who the hell put you up there?” Trudy whispered as she crouched behind a trellis, where the clematis vine grew in the warmth of summer.

A slightly ajar window to the pantry drew her attention and she immediately knew that that was how the perpetrator had gotten inside. She ducked behind the neighbor’s wood fence, shushed the excited black lab greeting her. Climbing over the six-foot partition, she dropped lightly to the walkway on the other side and approached the cellar door of her home.

She dug in her pocket for the cell phone and sent a quick text to the desk sergeant at her local precinct to bypass the 9-1-1 operator. A scream interrupted the text she was composing to Jason indicating Jessica, his daughter, was inside the house.

Cold fear trickled down her spine as Trudy hesitantly touched the knob of the cellar door only to discover it was locked. With a curse she spun around, kicked a large rock from its frozen perch, and dug her bare hands in the soil beneath, retrieving the spare key. She swallowed the panic rising like bile in her throat.

It's all right Trudy, it’s all right, she murmured to herself and took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

She pressed her ear to the door, the cold steel shocking her cheek as she listened for any movement on the other side. Hearing only the hum of the furnace, she inserted the key. The door squeaked slightly, and she knew better than to push it open more than a quarter of the way to prevent the worn hinges from protesting. Trudy stepped silently inside and sidled down a few steps that led to a small mudroom adjacent to the laundry. She passed the old game room which had been remodeled into a studio apartment for Jessica, who was attending college nearby. In the pitch black of the basement Trudy could just make out a shimmer of Jessica's favorite silver, puffer coat, tossed casually over the back of the sofa.

She released the safety on the 9mm pistol and tiptoed up the stairs leading to the main floor.

At the top of the steps, she paused to listen. Jessica was pleading in a voice quivering with fear. A familiar creak of a floorboard caused by someone pacing above indicated the activity was happening in the living room. With a silent prayer, Trudy slowly turned the knob on the kitchen door. Pleased that the ancient threshold didn't squawk under her boots, she treaded lightly into the unlit kitchen beyond.

Rocky, from his prison above, was howling in distress. Trudy wondered why the neighbors hadn't called the police. She was also doubtful if anyone at the station got the text she sent.

Her body snug against the wall, Trudy made her way through the kitchen, sucking in a quick breath when the ice maker ejected ice into the storage bin of the freezer. Exhaling slowly, past the lump forming in her throat, she listened intently as Jessica spoke with a tremor in her voice.

“Please, I think you have the wrong house,” the girl gasped as if something jarred her. The sound almost made her stumble into action, but years of discipline had her maintain her position. Trudy had a sinking suspicion of who was in the room with Jessica—but she knew never to speculate unless there was no other alternative.

“Do you ever shut up?”

Trudy stood rooted. The voice slightly gruff with age was the familiar timbre of her nightmares. Coldness settled in her spine as the horrific memories returned… Gerald. He must have gotten paroled and, just as she'd predicted, made a b-line for Pittsburgh to confront her.

“I don’t know why I have to be involved in this?” Jessica said tearfully. “Why can’t you just let me go?”

Trudy heard the sofa scrape slightly across the hardwood floor, she guessed that Gerald had gotten to his feet abruptly.

“I told you to shut the hell up!” his voice rose and Trudy could tell he was nervous.

In the dark shadows, she was able to steal a quick peek around the door frame. Gerald, whose back was toward her, loomed threateningly over Jessica. The girl's hands were tied behind her back and an abundance of duck tape wrapped around her ankles.

Gerald appeared unarmed but a Sig Sauer M17 lay on the coffee table and, at the moment, out of his reach.

“Let me go!”

Trudy swerved back behind the wall when Gerald suddenly turned in her direction. From the tearing sound and Jessica’s muffled cry, Trudy concluded it was to place tape over the girl's mouth. Crouching, to gain a better line of sight, Trudy watched with a blend of horror and fury as Gerald shook the young woman's shoulders and spat in her face.

“How do you like that?” he barked. “Stupid bitch!”

Trudy bit her lip as Jessica lunged forward, delivered a headbutt to Gerald’s chin which had him teetering backward a bit. When Gerald backhanded the girl, knocking her deep into the plush cushions of the sofa, Trudy leaped into action with her gun trained on Gerald. She thrust the barrel of the weapon into the base of his skull.

“Don’t move,” her voice, to her ears, devoid of emotion, “you know it won’t take much for me to pull this trigger.” She watched as the muscles tightened in Gerald’s shoulders and felt the tension through the grip of the weapon.

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t my sweet lil’ sis,” Gerald crooned in a voice pitched to taunt. “I just came to talk, no need for violence.” The words came out slurred making Trudy think he was under the influence of something.

“Quiet!” Trudy hissed. “There won’t be any violence, Gerald—if you do exactly as I say.”

The tension inside the space was suffocating. Trudy felt a bead of sweat trickle down her cheek. She needed to move Gerald away from Jessica and his discarded weapon, the latter a mere foot from where they stood. Trudy kept the gun steady.

“Put your hands on top of your head,” she said in a low voice. Her body was planted in a rigid stance as far from him as possible, in case he attempted to knock her off balance. Every nerve in her body ticked along with the second hand of the antique clock that hung on the wall. Trudy prodded Gerald with the barrel, urging him toward the center of the room.

“Gertie, I just came here to talk,” her step-brother jeered, “I’ve missed you.”

His voice was gruff now, a deep and ugly sound. Trudy nudged him forward again, a hand fisted in her gut.

“Shut up,” she took a controlling breath to settle her nerves, knowing that he, more than anyone, had the ability to get under her skin.

“What’s a matter, Gertie? Are you remembering how much fun we had hangin’ out?”

He chuckled again when Trudy pushed him, hooked her leg around his, and tripping him to the floor.

“Fuck you, Gerald,” her voice was frosty in response to the yelp he let out at landing on the hardwood floor. Trudy reached for the duck tape he had used to restrain Jessica. Not lowering the weapon, she straddled his back and used her teeth to pull the tape free from the roll. Not an easy feat but she was able to wrap it securely about one thick wrist. What she wouldn't give for a pair of handcuffs but those were tucked away in her dresser drawer upstairs. She positioned one knee in the center of Gerald’s back for control and reached for his other wrist. Trudy struggled to maintain her grip, he had obviously been working out these past few years and was overpowering her. She knew she would have to knock him out.

The clock struck the top of the hour and the little bird tooted five times.

Trudy glanced over at Jessica who was watched from the couch with wide eyes in an overly pale face. She gave a reassuring wink and gripped the gun barrel, intent on walloping Gerald with the handle. Raising her arm, calculated the precise spot on the back of his thick skull to strike. She knew she had to be accurate, one hair off, and she could kill him. Briefly wondering why that was even a concern but stole another quick glance at Jessica whose eyes were now tightly shut. The clock seemed now to tick in slow motion as she did a silent count.

One... Two... Th--

“Mom!”

Her breath caught as Aaron shouted from behind her, startling her enough to lose her precarious grip on Gerald’s beefy arm.

“Aaron, go!” she screeched as Gerald bucked her off his back.

Unable to maintain her balance, Trudy stumbled awkwardly between Gerald and the coffee table, the gun she held vanishing somewhere under the sofa. Gerald quickly rolled his way on top of her, her left hand wedged painfully against the heavy oak table while he pinned her right arm under his.

A whining noise came from the corner along with a quick shuffle of running feet. When the weight upon her suddenly became more burdensome and the wind swooshed from her body, Trudy realized Aaron had landed on Gerald’s back. He wrapped his slender arms around Gerald’s neck in a shime-waza hold she had taught him. Trudy squirmed to get out from under their combined weight. Gerald rose to his knees to dislodge Aaron who almost had his arms locked into position to choke him. With a gurgled roar, Gerald backhanded the teenager and threw him off his back. Gerald spun about from his knees to his feet to shove Aaron into the corner while Trudy saw red. Rage was the fuel needed to propel her into a crouching position.

She punched Gerald hard at the back of the knee, causing his leg to buckle under him and lose his balance. She leaped to her feet and landed several blows to his broad back before he turned to confront her.

“Not so tough now, are you?” He advanced toward her and Trudy glanced over his shoulder, watching Aaron waver as he got to his feet.

“Aaron, get out!” The words echoed off the walls as she sidestepped the hands reaching for her. “Now!” Fury and terror blending in her voice, the distraught teenager was a distraction she couldn’t afford.

Gerald’s eyes glowed with menace as he swung wildly but Trudy dodged his powerful fist. Relief flooded her while she landed a damaging blow to Gerald’s mid-section and noted Aaron making a hasty exit through the front door. Gerald picked up Aaron’s discarded bookbag and hurled it in her direction. The bag landed harmlessly on the easy chair behind her.

“Weak ass move,” she snarked.

She stepped to the other side of the coffee table and lunged for Gerald’s gun. For a big man he moved with an agility she hadn't expected and got there first. Trudy hesitated for a fraction of a second as he raised the weapon. Hearing the safety lock release thrust her into action. She rushed him hard, the impact stole her breath, but she managed to knock him off balance, giving her precious time to veer to the right as the gun exploded.

Jessica whimpered with horror as Trudy, in agony and overcome by dizziness, rolled awkwardly to her side. The easy chair she crawled behind didn’t offer much protection as it did support. She pressed her cheek to its navy and white pattern, now splattered with blood.

Breathe, breathe, she thought, realizing she’d been hit and ran a hand over her left shoulder examining the oozing gash.

“Just grazed me,” she whispered, a thudding began in her chest and reverberated in her skull.

Thump, thump, thump.

“Come on, baby sister, what’s the matter? Don’t you want to come out and play?” Gerald giggled.

A sick sound, his voice quivered in the uncanny silence. She knew he was unarmed, but by the frantic shuffle of his feet, he was searching for the weapon she had dislodged from his hand.

Trudy knew Gerald wasn't there for any other reason than to completely eradicate her existence. He didn't care that she had suffered enough during their violent childhood. She was the only one who knew about the therapy and the mistakes for which she paid so dearly. The memory of the altercation in front of her parent’s home when she was a teenager came rushing at her. The catalyst had been a missing Spice Girls tape cassette. Gerald had blamed her, saying she’d lifted it from the dusty old Pinto wagon he had driven to work every day. As if she had ever even opened the door to the slimy, smelly, trash-ridden interior of that decrepit vehicle, let alone touched a cassette she was positive he’d beat off too.

Her thoughts returned to the present, her heart rising in her throat; worried her son might graduate high school without a mother, murdered by an uncle the young man hadn’t even know existed.

...and Jason? She whispered his name, “Jason—."

Gerald’s feet came to a halt nearby and he let out a satisfied grunt as he bent down, she knew he had found the weapon. It was do or die at this point—without hesitation, she rushed from behind the chair. A kick to his wrist dislodged the Baretta and sent it against the wall with a thud. Gerald’s bloodshot eyes bulged with rage as he turned toward her. The madness she remembered from her youth shook his form as he bellowed loudly before throwing a heavy overhand her way. Trudy ducked away and stepped to the left when Gerald advanced to her right. She swerved to avoid his flailing fist as he carelessly continued in her direction. His sloppiness earned him a roundhouse kick to the upper thigh that sent him stumbling backward. Trudy advanced but he recovered enough to shove her so that she landed heavily on Jessica, who lay unable to escape the tape that tethered her. Trudy shoved the coffee table with both feet and Gerald yelped when the corner drove into his shin. He hopped on one foot for a short second, giving her enough time to amble to her feet. With a great heave, Trudy sent the table toward him again, but this her half-brother was better prepared. Gerald leaped on top of the furniture piece before teetering in her direction. Trudy pushed her shoulder into his abdomen when he landed on her and used every screaming muscle in her body to flip him over her shoulder. His landing was softened by the cushions on the blood-stained easy chair. Gerald cackled as the springs broke loose in the seat propelling him to his feet.

“Well ain’t you a tricky one,” he jeered, “but I got some tricks too.”

Gerald performed a few patterns with his arms implying he knew martial arts and closed the distance between them. Trudy delivered another hard kick to his thigh causing him to teeter forward and she threw a fast strike with her fist, barely grazing his jaw. Gerald returned the fire and she danced away but not before she felt the sting on her cheek from his knuckles clipping her. Books and board games thudded to the floor, dislodged from the bookshelf by the heavy thrust of Gerald’s body.

“Ouch Gertie, I’m telling mom!” He rubbed a shaky hand over his midsection where her foot landed, grabbed a few remaining books, and lobbed them in her direction.

She ducked as the treasured hardcover of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone flew past her left ear along with her favorite Poe. What she hadn’t anticipated was that Gerald would use any weapon at his disposal. There just wasn’t enough room for her to escape from the reach of the hockey stick he snatched from against the wall and swung in her direction.

Damn Aaron, I told you to put that away! She remembered the request she’d made yesterday after tripping over the pile of hockey equipment for the umpteenth time.

A blow to her temple staggered her, causing her knees to give out.

Aaron.

A searing pain on top of her head had her landing face-first on the floor.

Gerald’s dingy white Adidas were covered with red droplets as her eyes tried to focus.

Is that blood? she wondered.

Overcome by nausea causing a tremor to surge through her body, rattling her teeth, and adding even more pain to her head. The damned clock kept ticking in time with the thudding in her chest even though the world around her seemed to come to a complete stop. From what seemed like a mile away she could hear him laughing.

“This was a hell of a lot easier than I anticipated,” he taunted, the voice funneled toward her. “Damn I thought you was some big bad cop err somethin´.” His voice was closer now, his hand tangled in the hair on the back of her head. “But you see, Gertie, the truth is…” he pulled her hair, forcing her head around to look at him. “You ain’t nothin´!” he spat before pushing her onto her back. The air rushed from her when he sat down on her stomach. “You never were.”

Gerald’s demented grin was ugly as he regarded her. “Let me get a better look at you.” The lighthearted tone didn’t match the loathing in his eyes.

Trudy kept her eyes steady on his while she forced her mind to concentrate.

Think!

“You made this real easy for me Gertie.”

His calloused fingers slid around her throat and she brought her hands up to stop him.

“Ooh, I knew you had some fight left in ya,” he gritted his teeth, applied more pressure, and slowed the air to her lungs.

She clawed at his hands and thrust her body in an attempt to throw him off balance. Her body shuddered and her lungs screamed for air. His image blurred and she let go of his wrists, willed her arms out to her side, reached with her fingers, and sought anything she could use as a weapon. The lights seemed to flicker as she pressed her throat into his palms, briefly relieving the pressure and allowing a whisper of air through to her lungs. His gripped tightened, painfully robbing her of any further relief.

Under the sofa, her hand touched something smooth. She ran her fingers over leather laces before grasping them to pull the item closer. Darkness was shrouding her, she could feel its weight, heavy on her forehead and over her eyes. Her ears were full of her heartbeats; so fast a few moments ago but slowing.

Come on Trudy! Her mind screamed but her weak limbs weren’t responding. Trudy!

“I should’ve finished you that day on the front porch,” he mocked. “Coulda blamed it on our druggie dad.”

The words ignited a spark within her and with each beat of her slowing pulse, it transformed to a fiery rage spreading over the numbness. Trudy gripped the bulky leather object until it twisted in her hand, enabling her to pull it toward her side.

“Yep, shoulda… woulda, coulda finished you then,” he grunted and threw back his head to laugh.

Blood suddenly rushed through her body with something akin to exhilaration, her mind comprehending his fatal mistake. Trudy, mere moments away from extinction, knew there was no other option. Time was measured by the resounding thud inside her skull.

Focus, Trudy commanded her cloudy mind.

Steady, the message to her trembling muscles.

She bit her lip hard and lifted a leather ice skate, the heel clutched firmly in her palm. The blade, sharpened yesterday, glimmered with menace in the dim light. A whimper was lost in her throat from the exertion needed to lift the weapon.

“Trudy!” The shout shattered the silence.

A fraction of a second later, Jason landed hard on Gerald’s back, knocking him forward enough to slam him onto the skate she held. Thunder boomed in her being and an acute wail filled her ears. Trudy realized the sound was coming from her petrified lips as the lethal blade slashed deep into the side of Gerald’s neck, dividing his carotid artery. His eyes widened in surprise and shock spread over his ruddy features. Gerald stared without remorse straight into her soul.

“I suppose you probably shoulda killed me when you had the chance,” she wheezed and watched his eyes grow distant. A gurgle sounded deep in his chest as he lost the grip on her throat when Jason pulled him off her. Trudy rolled to her side gasping for air watching as Jason let Gerald slump forward to her on the floor.