Red Rum: A Rosie Casket Mystery R.M. Wild (inspirational books .txt) 📖

if he doesn’t, my client will send someone to kill his ex-wife, isn’t that right, my dear Caesar?”

Caesar stared at his feet.

“He’s been very loyal. So loyal, that he’ll do anything to keep his family alive. Ever since Mettle arrested him, the poor fellow has been sleepwalking through life. He’s going to burn you. Then he’s going to burn this shack to the ground.”

“Won’t that anger your client?”

Kendall laughed. “My client doesn’t care about this place. In fact, this whole property is now in Caesar’s name. He sold off his trailer for the down payment. That was the original deal. I kept him out of jail and he did what my client asked. In exchange, he was supposed to get a nice plot of land and the satisfaction that he saved his family—a family that didn’t even like him.”

The longer I could keep him talking, the longer I lived. My only hope was to make Caesar turn against him. “Why did you tie up Caesar? He didn’t deserve that.”

“My client changed his mind. He didn’t want loose ends.”

“So you reneged on your deal with Caesar. You slime ball. Whatever happened to honor among thugs?”

“I am no thug. I am a lawyer. A negotiator. I tried to help you, Rosie. And I tried to help this pathetic lump of pond scum, too. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve convinced my client to spare someone’s life. I deserve a medal for my diplomacy. In exchange for killing you, my client has agreed to let Caesar live the rest of his miserable life on this beautiful property. That’s how good I am.”

Caesar stared at the ground.

“That’s no life, Caesar. Tell him. You’re a good person. You did what you had to do to save your wife.”

“Ex-wife,” Kendall corrected. He patted him on the shoulder. “If you don’t like the deal, you’re welcome to kill yourself at any time. We won’t be mad. Of course, if the police ever get any wind of what has happened here, your ex-wife and child will meet the edge of my client’s knife.”

Caesar snarled and took a deep drink of Red Rum.

“Whoa, careful with that, buddy. I still need you on your feet for a few more minutes. Now douse her.”

Dutifully, Caesar dumped the rum all over my lap as if he were dumping gasoline on a pile of garbage. The rum was warm through my wet clothes, yet cooled my skin as it evaporated.

“It’s 180 proof, highly flammable, and goes up in a flash,” Kendall said. “Hardgrave makes the best.”

“You used it in the prison?”

“Yes,” Kendall said. “Caesar wet the jumpsuits in it. The rum evaporates fast enough to make it untraceable, yet lasts long enough to go up in flames with the tiniest of sparks.”

I closed my eyes, remembering the bundle of clothes that Caesar had handed Mettle when he came to escort him to the visitation room.

“Show her the other trick,” Kendall said.

From his back pocket, Caesar took out two small black rods. He stepped back from me, a little wobbly, and scraped them against each other. They gave a spark.

“Ferrocerium rods,” Kendall explained. “Once upon a time, Caesar was into cosplay and he learned how to make all kinds of medieval gear out of metal. When I learned that, I knew he was the perfect mark. Inspired by an escape at Fort Leavenworth a long time ago, he made the handcuff links out of ferrocerium. Then ,when Mettle got angry and jerked his chains, they sparked and ignited the rum-soaked clothes. Same with the other two lowlifes.”

I squeezed my eyes.

“It’s a fitting end for a witch, am I right?” Kendall said. “Burned at the stake.”

“Is this what you did to my sister? You burned her alive?”

“I know nothing about your sister,” Kendall said. “That’s God’s honest truth. Was she here? Probably. For years, my client took people here. He tied them up and he made them tell him what he wanted to know and he had Dimitri take pictures. He didn’t burn them, though. That was Caesar’s method.”

“Is she still alive?”

“I told you. I don’t know.”

Tears welled up inside my eyelids. This was the end. Mettle was gone, and now me too. We had come up against an unstoppable force, an evil with too many connections, too much wealth, too much cunning.

“I signed your papers,” I said. “Let me go. I’ll disappear. I won’t tell anyone.”

Kendall frowned. He squatted to eye level and put a hand on my knee. “I wish I could do that, Rosie. But it’s too late. I liked you very much. I tried to spare you. But my client insisted. He said we cannot trust you. If I don’t do my job, my life will be next.”

I stared at Kendall, my eyes fiery with hate. At that moment, I wished I were a witch, I wished I had the power to make him ignite.

“I hope you burn in hell,” I said. “All that gel in your hair will go up fast.”

Kendall smiled. He put a hand on my knee, kissed me, then stood, and turned to Caesar. “Spark her.”

45

Caesar set the bottle of Red Rum down on the floor and stood over me. He held the ferrocerium rods over my lap and prepared to scrape them together.

“Do it,” Kendall said. “Don’t waste any more time.” He picked up the video camera and angled it so he could see both Caesar and me. “My client will enjoy watching this. It’ll be very…pure.”

I looked up at Caesar through my foggy glasses. Some of my tears caught in the rims and the others streamed down my cheeks.

“I know you don’t want to do this,” I begged. “You’re not the kind of person to do this.”

“I have no choice,” he said. He readied the rods, about to strike them together.

“Careful buddy, you’re standing awful close,” Kendall warned.

Caesar stepped back, but knocked over the bottle of Red Rum. It spilled in a red trail toward my chair legs.

“I’m sorry,” Caesar whispered.