The Harlequin - 28. Chapter 28

Time was moving fast as Patrick had to help Adam, by stopping a crazy stalker. Patrick had to guess at the rules of the road and tried not to get himself killed as he merged into traffic. He remembered how to get to the cemetery. He made sure to take the back streets to avoid any cops and other cars. But the Viper suffered a few dings when he turned too close to a light pole, scratching the side of a parked moving van, and misjudged a pothole. Lucky for him there were no witnesses.

His nerves were getting rattled. He parked the rental car three blocks away from the graveyard in an empty driveway. He pulled the parking brake up, shut off the car and left the keys in the ignition. As he walked, he came across a pawnshop and realized he might need a weapon.

He walked into the shop and noticed a glass cabinet holding different types of handguns. He stepped to the counter and right away a young woman with red hair walked over.

“Hey,” she said, with a smile. She wore lipstick that almost matched the color of her hair. “Looking for something special?” She leaned forward, placing her arms on the counter to present her heathy, firm cleavage to Patrick. Patrick was not naïve. He has been approached before by females who wanted him.

“I was thinking of getting a weapon for protection. You know, some guys think ‘no’ means ‘yes’,” he said with a grin.

“Oh boo. Why are all the hot ones gay?” she said, standing up straight.

“Not all of us are hot. And a word of advice… the ones that are, are usually the monsters in a mask.”

“You have a point. Well, do you know anything about guns?”

“No. And I’m not a fan of them either.”

“Well then, maybe you’ll feel more comfortable with a Taser.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. What’s the strongest one?”

“Well, we have a nice selection like...” She walked over to a counter further back in the store where several Tasers were displayed like the guns. All in different colors and shapes. “The Vipertek, Guard Dog, Police issue.” She placed them in front of Patrick on the counter. “As you can see they’re all handheld, but I would suggest one that I use.” She went right for a black hand held. “This is called the CRACK. Because it’s the last thing they hear when you use it on them.”

“How long will they stay down?”

“I never hang around to find out.”

“Ok, I’ll take it.” Patrick gave her his credit card, and after he signed the receipt it occurred to him that maybe he should have used cash, but chose not to worry about it.

“Here you go, and you get a free small, slim flashlight the company is promoting.”

“Thanks,” said Patrick, taking his credit card from her held out hand.

“If you ever want to experiment with a woman, my number is on the back of your receipt,” she said, winking at him.

Patrick gave a forced smile back and took his purchase. He hesitated, then looked at the woman who was about his age, with her left ear displaying five piercings and her right ear with only two. Her makeup was clean, but even he could do a better job with it. But that was not the reason he paused.

“What’s your name?” he asked her.

“Tina,” she replied, wondering if she had a chance with Patrick. He noticed a charm bracelet on her wrist with a tiny heart frame with a picture of a male.

“Tina, do you have a boyfriend?

“Yeah,” she said, with a chuckle touching the heart charm.

“Then you don’t mind when people flirt with him?”

“Hell yeah, I’d mind.”

“Good to know,” he said, with a wicked grin then walked away. He caught a glimpse of Tina picking up her cell phone, seeming to make a call as he left the store. While walking to Hell’s Gate, something else occurred to him. The way Gavin showed him to get in was now locked up. He needed a good reason to enter the guarded grounds without showing ID. A bus came up to the corner just ahead of him, and he saw his opportunity to get into the cemetery when an elderly man stepped off the bus. He was having trouble carrying a potted plant and handling his walking cane. Patrick hurried up to meet him with a smile.

“Please allow me to help you, sir,” he said, catching the tilting potted plant before it slipped from the man’s arm.

“Thank you so much,” the man said with a cracked voice and a big smile on his grey-bearded face. Delighted, the man accepted Patrick’s left arm to lean on, as Patrick cradled the plant in his right arm. As they crossed the street and walked up to the gate, the guard only looked at the elderly man’s ID, which was around his neck in a holder he used for his bus pass.

“You just made it, Mr. Wyatt,” the guard said. “The cemetery will be closing soon.”

“I’ve only come to give my wife a gift,” he replied.

Patrick remained quiet as the guard waved at him, assuming Patrick was related to Mr. Wyatt, as they walked past him.

Patrick helped the man to his wife’s grave, which had an iron bench in front of it.

“Thank you for your help, young man. Can I give you something for your trouble?”

“That won’t be necessary. I’m here to visit my grandfather. He’s on the north side.” Patrick handed the plant back to the man. “Well you be all right?” asked Patrick.

“Yes. Thank you, I’ll be fine.”

“All right. Take care.” Patrick hurried off. The sun was almost down when he arrived at the north side of the Hell’s Gate. He saw the tombstone with the carving of the sleeping dog in the distance. Before he could go and look for a note—he saw him.

Cain Rollins was dressed in all black but was not wearing a mask. Patrick ducked behind a tree and watched as Cain placed the note on the tombstone and walked away. Patrick saw his chance to help Adam. He followed Cain, hoping he would lead him to Justin. He checked his coat pocket and removed a small flashlight and stun gun he purchased at the pawn shop. He wasn’t big on guns, but he would sure stun the hell out of Cain long enough for him, and hopefully Justin, to get away.

Cain surveyed his surroundings of crippled trees that had to survive off of the soil of the dead. The Hell’s Gate stretched like a confinement not only trying to keep people out but also the dead in. Gravestones were of simple crosses to sun blocking shrines for over compensated wealth. Cain headed back the way he came crushing leaves beneath his feet. Patrick kept a close, but safe, distance as he followed the man towards a small groundskeeper’s house.

*************

Adam drove above the speed limit towards the cemetery. He had a sick feeling that Patrick was heading there—into a trap. He drove up to the front gate and waited while the guard took his time to come out of the gatehouse. It amazed Adam how the wealthy patrons still paid for security to scrutinize anyone coming into the place.

Did they really believe that their financial standing mattered in the afterlife? Adam’s eye was drawn to an object sitting in one of the drink holders in front of the gear shift—Detective Cutter’s metal badge.

The guard walked up holding a clipboard and pen.

“Good evening, sir. We’re about to lock up in an hour. Would that be enough time for you?”

“I'm with the county,” he flashed Cutter’s badge at the man, who straightened up.

“Oh yes. Hello, I thought the police had finished with that…unfortunate incident.”

“New leads,” said Adam.

“I see. Would you like me to keep anyone else from coming in?”

“If you could. And is there anyone else here at the moment?”

“Just Mr. Wyatt. Oh and I believe his grandson.”

“Is that Mr. Wyatt?” asked Adam, eyeing an elderly gentleman walking slowly towards them up a slight incline. The guard followed Adam’s gaze and hurried over to the man, placing his arm in his to assist him. Adam got out of his car and walked over to the two men, taking the elderly man’s other arm.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Mr. Wyatt said.

“Where’s the young man who came in with you, Mr. Wyatt?” asked the guard.

“Who? Oh, he went to pay his respects to his grandfather.”

“He wasn’t with you?” asked the guard.

“No, he was just helping me with my plant for my wife.”

“Can you remember which way he went?” asked Adam, suspecting it was Patrick.

“Yes, he said he had to go to the north side, but he didn’t give a name.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wyatt.” Adam turned his attention back to the guard. “Make sure no one else enters and are you sure there is no one else here?”

“No one. Even the groundskeeper has the day off.”

“Good. I’ll make sure the young man gets out all right.”

Adam climbed back into Cutter’s car and drove off, following a path towards the area where Gavin died. He parked Cutter’s car on the path behind a stone building to obstruct its view. He walked to the north side of the gate and saw the tombstone of a sleeping dog, with the note on the name mark.

The note contained directions to a house on the property. It was dusk overhead, as Adam followed the grave markers that were written on the map. ‘In Loving Memory of Ruby’; Chad, My Best Friend’. Adam saw the house, which looked abandoned. Overgrowth vegetation and fallen shingles gave the impression of a haunted house as he walked towards the back entrance, as instructed by the note.

**************

Patrick watched as Cain walked past the house and continued on to a smaller building that resembled a shed. Cain never looked back, as he unlocked the padlocked wooden door and walked in, closing it behind him. Patrick raced to the side of the house and kept low in the overgrown weeds, watching the shed, to see if Cain would come out.

The evening sky blanketed and distorted Patrick’s surroundings as the temperature dropped. Patrick was freezing and he decided to go to the shed. He was there to save Justin, and if trading himself would appease Cain’s anger, then so be it. Cain wanted to possess him, not kill him.

At least that’s what Patrick hoped Cain still wanted. He stood at the door, shivering, unsure if it was from the cold or fear. He held his breath as he reached for the brass handle that had turned green from the weather. He carefully pulled the door open, taking a peek inside.

It was dark, and a strange hollow sound was coming from it like a breeze. He opened it more and as his eyes adjusted, he saw not a room, but stairs going down.

Patrick’s natural response was fear of the unknown, but the thought of Justin being held against his will because of a madman's obsession for him, pushed his feet forward and downward.

Patrick walked carefully, holding the stun gun in his right hand and slid his left along the concrete wall. He counted eight steps down, then turned right and counted another eight. The decent ended on the third flight, at a hallway lined with string lights along the wall. Patrick noticed a door on the left and a turn at the end of the hall.

He clenched his weapon tighter as he walked up to the door. He put his ear to the steel entry and listened, but was unable to hear anything. He reached for the knob and braced himself, turning it to the right and feeling it give.

He shoved the door open and readied the weapon in front of him. Inside, in a chair, sat Justin’s trembling body. He was barefoot and wore only a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt. His hands were tied behind his back and his ankles were tied to the legs of the chair. The room was freezing. His mouth was gagged and his face bruised near his right eye. His head rocked up and down then swayed side to side. His eyes opened and closed as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

‘Cain did that to him?’ thought Patrick, who walked into the room that had a dirt floor and brick walls. No windows or lights. Thankfully the hallway gave him enough visibility to untie Justin.

“Justin?” he said, sitting the stun gun on the floor, then loosening his knots. “I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

Patrick wasn’t sure if Justin understood him as he removed his gag. Taking off his coat, he slipped Justin’s arm into the sleeves, then closed it. “Lean on me, Justin. I’ll get you somewhere safe.” Patrick hauled Justin to his feet letting him lean against him. Thankfully they were the same height, which made it easier as Patrick held on tight and they staggered out the door.