Read The Grotto's Secret: A Historical Conspiracy Mystery Thriller Online
Authors: Paula Wynne
154
Kelby stared at Jon in disbelief.
Jon frowned at her. ‘Me and Teresina … it was a long time ago. Besides, I didn’t see her again until I invited her to join the show.’
Kelby’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. ‘What happened?’
‘When I found out the tyre tread monitor was faulty I thought it would come in handy. A few sharp turns in high speed and it blew the tyre.’
Kelby bridled, as if a sudden bad smell had caught in her nose. ‘Why?’
‘The bitch wanted money for keeping the ins and outs of our relationship quiet.’ He peered at her through narrow eyes. ‘Lots of money. Like the time she threw a party for Majella’s tenth birthday.’
Kelby inched sideways.
‘It was a medieval costume ball in Florence, in the Corsini Palace. Majella did a school play on Shakespeare. So Teresina conjured up the party of any young Italian girls dreams. Cost me a hundred grand. Can you
believe
that?’
Shock waves vibrated through Kelby. ‘I trusted you. I even confided in you about the threats.’ As the pieces started falling into place, she shook her head in disgust. ‘You even arranged my surveillance and set up my security.’
‘So I was able to get the codes. Poor Hawk had no idea it was me. Too trusting, like you. And, come to think of it, your brother was the same.’
Kelby shoved her face into his, hissing, ‘You’re despicable! Why did you have Gary killed?’
‘Now, wait a minute, Kel, I had nothing to do with Gary’s death. He came back from Spain with this amazing stuff that healed a wound on his arm and —’
‘The rizado?’
‘Yes.’ He stared at her shocked expression. ‘Didn’t you know?’
She grabbed her pendant. ‘Was it anything to do with this?’
Jon’s jaw dropped. He stepped towards her, still staring at the symbol. ‘Where did you get that?’
‘Gary had it made for me. I thought it was a kind of Spanish emblem. But it appears to be a symbol off the rizado herbal book.’
‘So,
that’s
where Robson got the symbol. Well, if you think the foolish doctor is your white knight, he can’t play that role anymore.’
‘What have you done with him?’
‘He’s out of bounds so to speak, rotting away downstairs in a dungeon. Anyway, let’s not bother with him now, I need to know
your
secrets, Kel.’
Jon closed the gap between them. ‘Tell me where to find the rizado.’
155
Biting on the twig once more, María ground another batch of sticky rizado. In slow motion, she smeared the slimy green paste across her hands and up her arms.
The odour of Madre’s scalded hair, blended with her own burnt flesh, still clung to her nose. María dropped her face into the water and shook her nose around to rid herself of the horrible smell, lest it sicken her even more.
As María sat beside the pond, she remembered the day it started, the day she had rescued the wounded goat.
Now, for the first time, she noticed how the water was thicker with slime at the edges beside the rocks, where the rizado grew. She trailed her palms across the surface. The cool water licked at the sticky paste, giving her instant relief. The heat inside her skin cooled, so she spent a few more minutes stroking the water. As she did so, she wondered if the water increased the healing powers of rizado. It certainly felt that way.
The grotto’s peaceful tranquillity relaxed María. The heat of the mid-day sun gave everything around her a chance to rest. She lay back on the grassy bank with her hands hanging in the water, her mind drifting and her eyes closing.
Hours later, María woke with a start. She sat up and peered around her. The sun headed towards the horizon.
‘
Dios
! I must get back to Mama!’
She leapt to her feet, vexed she’d slept through the afternoon’s warmth.
For a moment, she glanced up at the blue sky. Another lovely day had passed her by.
Suddenly something else caught her eye.
Billows of smoke rose into the sky from the direction of Fuente Prado!
156
With unwavering poise, Kelby raised her head to meet Jon’s towering torso. She pressed her index finger into his chest and hissed, ‘First, tell me where’s Annie?’
‘Annie’s fine, although a bit drowsy. She’s locked away upstairs, but you can see her when I have the rizado.’
Kelby’s, anger flared. Pouncing on him, she slapped his face and ran to the door. She yanked on it, but it wouldn’t budge. A sharp pain filled her head as Jon gripped a handful of her hair and dragged her backwards.
‘Willow told me about you being barren. You always wanted a kid of your own. Now you’ve got one. You should be grateful.’
Kelby elbowed him. Caught him in the ribs, sending him sprawling. She raced for the door, but Jon righted himself. He grabbed her by the shoulders and whirled her around to face him. As Kelby stumbled backwards, Jon pinned her against the desk.
With him towering over her, she scoffed, ‘I saw the letter from Teresina’s solicitor.’ Behind her, her right hand scrambled around on the desk and into the briefcase, her fingers searching for something heavy to hit him with.
‘What letter?’ Jon’s palm slammed Kelby’s cheek. The force flung her sideways and her arm swept a pile of things off the desk. As Kelby hit the floor, the letter opener clattered beside her on the tiles. With Jon towering above her, Kelby saw the fire in his eyes. She scuttled backwards like a cockroach, but her back struck the desk’s edge. She was trapped.
From the corner of her eyes, Kelby spotted the angel letter opener. Its ruby gleamed in the lamp’s fluorescence as though the angel held a hand over a bleeding heart.
Above her, Jon patted her head. ‘Poor little Kelby. You’re a tough cookie, but nothing can match an angry man’s strength.’ In an abrupt motion, he buried his hand in her hair and yanked a handful upright, pulling her to her knees.
Kelby screamed.
Jon leaned down and glared at her. ‘Tell me about the letter, Kelby.’
Face-to-face with Jon, she watched hatred burning his eyes. ‘It was from Italy, saying you’re Majella’s father’
Jon’s head shot up, his eyes glazed over. ‘What?’
From the look of devastation on his face, Kelby realised he didn’t know about Majella. ‘She’s my —’
‘It said Teresina listed you as the father on the birth certificate. It said you were trying to kill her.’
Jon let out a whoosh. ‘My daughter …’
‘Yes, you killed your own daughter.’ Adrenaline rushed through her, leaving her edgy and twitchy. She didn’t think about the consequences of her words, nor did she care. Kelby’s fingers touched something cold. She flinched, as the shaft’s end pricked her finger.
The angelic letter opener.
157
Kelby plunged the blade into Jon’s stomach.
Jon groaned in pain, ‘You fucking devil!’
Kelby could only see the angel sticking out of him. The rest was embedded in his bloodstained shirt. His knees crashed to the floor as he ripped the blade out of his flesh. Kelby scampered along the tiles on all fours, like a caged animal let loose. But Jon grabbed her ankles, and hauled her back towards him.
As she tried to crawl away, her hand gripped onto the desk’s leg, dragging herself towards it. His strength overpowered her. In a split second, he wrenched her into his lap in a contorted position. Jon’s arms wrapped around her, and he stroked her hair in a caressing motion. His hands, matted with blood, stuck to her head, and plucked the fine hairs around her ears.
With her back to his chest, Kelby could feel his heart beating as fast as hers, and she could hear his ragged breath rattling in and out of his throat like hers.
Kelby wriggled in his arms, struggling to break free, but Jon tightened his grip on her.
‘You won’t escape. Don’t even try. I am ten times stronger than you.’ Jon rose, stuffed his hands under her armpits and pulled her up. As he twisted her around to face him, she glanced down, and spotted the angel at Jon’s feet. Its ruby centre glinted while its blood smeared shaft shimmered like a butcher’s knife.
Using one hand, Jon clutched the bloody wound on his side. ‘Having my extravagant plan for your death foiled, I hate. But coming up with a new death strategy, I love.’
A sudden worm of dark blood escaped from the corner of his lips. Without realising it, as Jon shuffled forward, he kicked the bloodied angel closer to Kelby’s foot. She bent her knee and drove it into Jon’s groin. He keeled over, both hands groping his loins and Kelby lunged for the angel.
Jon’s long arm reached it first. ‘Why don’t you listen? I said, don’t try.’ He shoved his knee between her legs, forcing them apart. His height gave him advantage with his knee pinning her hips to the desk. Kelby watched him through slitted eyes.
Jon stroked the long shaft, smearing his blood onto his fingertips. With an abrupt motion, he licked the blade. Still pinned between him and the desk, Kelby glanced down to see his feet entwined with hers. He had her trapped as though they were locked in loving embrace.
Leaning closer, he flicked a piece of her hair out of her eyes, with the tip of the angel’s blade. ‘A good hair cut will make you look years younger, Kel. Maybe a few highlights to stop your face looking so overworked. I’d do it here and now, only,’ his nose shrivelled, ‘we’re out of time. I have to find Willow, he has interesting toxins downstairs. I think you found his lab with his experiments floating in jars. I’ll be sure to ask him to preserve those lovely eyes of yours. Otherwise I’ll miss gazing into them.’
Jon took a deep breath as though he needed to re-energise himself. Then, he reached out to steady himself. ‘On second thoughts, maybe I’ll get Willow to attach your eyes to stalks.’ He sneered at her. ‘Maybe we can add Stacie’s and Annie’s as well. A kebab of Wade eyes.’
Kelby grabbed his wrist and shoved the blade away from her face. Using both hands, she twisted the blade back towards him. Jon struggled against her sudden burst of strength. As they twisted and turned the angel, the blade sliced Jon’s arm, slashing flesh from the inside of his elbow to his wrist. Staring at the blood streaming from his arm, Jon’s fingers weakened and the angel fell from his hand.
Kelby caught the handle. Wincing in pain as her scorched hand closed over it, she felt his blood coating her burns, its stickiness soothing the fire under her skin. She swapped hands and held it to his face. ‘Take me to Annie, or you’ll get this.’
Jon snorted but Kelby stood her ground. The dark blood pooling in the creek of his lips escaped, and snaked down his chin, as though his teeth had disturbed a nest of tiny black snakes. ‘You won’t use that Kel, you’re too soft.’
His good arm came up out of nowhere and he punched Kelby under her chin. ‘Jesus, that should have flattened you. You’re lucky I’m indisposed at the moment.’
Reeling, she clung onto the angel, and pointed it back into his face. ‘Don’t try any more tricks. I
will
use this!’
Jon’s good arm rammed out in attack mode, but this time, Kelby was ready for it. She swung away from him. Still embedded in her fist, the angel’s rapier slashed across the front of his neck.
Jon grabbed her hand, but Kelby lunged forward.
The blade shunted over his cheek and the tip pierced his left eyeball.
Kelby screamed and let go of the angel’s hilt. Jon’s neck spurted blood for a few seconds, spraying Kelby’s face.
She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. Each beat of his heart, propelled blood out of the breached flesh, forming an arcing pattern of blood stains across their shirts. Jon choked and gurgled and his legs caved in under him. As he slumped to the floor, the angel’s emblem knocked on the side of the desk and spun away, taking Jon’s embedded eyeball with it. Blood pooled around his body.
Kelby’s hands closed over her mouth, muffling a scream. One lifeless eye stared at her while the other gaped like a bottomless gory pit. For a long horrific moment, Kelby stared back, paralysed with fear.
She had killed Jon Thompson.
158
María raced to the Finca and gaped at the destruction. Fire consumed their cottage and dead animals lay scattered near their pens. Madre’s pots and pans littered the cobbles around the house. The soldiers had returned and searched the house.
María called out. ‘Mama!’
Only then, did she discover the worst. In their anger the soldiers had set the donkey stable alight. The blaze had twisted the stone pillars from their foundations, crushing the stable roof on top of the cellar.
María dropped to her knees and tried to lift the smouldering thatched roof. The weight of it and the stone walling was too much for her. Even if her hands weren’t recovering from the burns, she would never be able to get into the cellar.
‘Madre! Madre!’ María yelled. She ran around the shed and tried to crawl in between the rubble. No space was large enough for her to creep into. How could she get into the cellar to rescue Madre? She couldn’t even see the cellar’s wooden door under the pile of burnt wood and blackened stones.
‘Mama, can you hear me?’ María lay flat against the ground and hollowed into the earth. Madre may be sleeping. The destroyed stable wouldn’t have harmed her mother hidden under the ground. María glanced over her shoulder, grimacing at her home burning to the ground. Spotting a metal bucket amongst the broken stone, she raced to grab it and ran to the water barrel. She sunk the bucket inside and threw water over the flames at the back of the house. It wouldn’t save their home, but she tried anyway. She spent the next hour dousing the flames until the final drop of water had been used.
Then, hoping Madre would hear her this time, María ran to the rubble on top of the cellar and called out, ‘Mama! Mama!’
Still no answer.