Dead Yellow Roses Part Two

By Lisa M Tozier- Rowe

Melissa Raines’ killer was behind bars, but she was not at peace. She contacted several people through their dreams in hopes to stir them into further investigating. Her cousin, Amy, and her boyfriend, Justus knew who to go see about their similar dreams – Lady Samone. They all decide to go speak with Sergeant Gish about their discovering Melissa is not at rest. Her true killer needed to be found and brought to justice. Gish was the arresting officer in Melissa’s case. However, the arrested man, Jimmy Bennett, had always shouted his innocence and how he was set up. Gish could not bear the idea that he had been played a patsy by a crazed killer. He agreed to look further into the case, off the record. The horrible crimes that he discovers and the truth behind Melissa Raines’ death would be told.
Enjoy the twists and turns of Dead Yellow Roses and see if you can predict the truth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa M Tozier- Rowe
• Release date: Nov 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301846832

Lisa M Tozier- Rowe

I live in the beautiful Gulf Breeze, Florida. Moved from Alaska back in 2007. Born and raised in Maine. Married my high school sweety 23 years ago. We have six beautiful children.I enjoying writing fiction and poetry. I like to paint art and crafts, go boating and lay in the sun. My motto: Appreciate all things

Book preview

Dead Yellow Roses

Written By: Lisa M. Tozier-Rowe

Copyright by Lisa M. Tozier-Rowe

Smashwords Edition 2012

Acknowledgements

I am grateful for my family and their united support in my efforts behind part two, Dead Yellow Roses. Even Ben, our dog, gladly took a back seat to my writing.

A Thank You to my cousin, Marie Bounds. Girl, if it wasn’t for you and your strong desire to read ‘the rest of the story’, this never would have gotten finished.

I enjoyed the process of getting this story written down. It took its twists and turns all on its own. It was a joy to write. I look forward to more fiction pouring out of me.

About the Author

Lisa M. Tozier-Rowe, married to her best friend for 23 years and counting. They have six children together ranging from 18 to 10 years old. After moving many, many times by choice, they decided to settle down in beautiful Gulf Breeze, Florida.

She continues to enjoy writing short stories and novels. More to come into print in the future.

All names, ideas and stories are a fiction of the authors own mind.

Prelude

Rudy and Jack

Rudy sat on the floor at the foot of his bed. He was stroking the soft yellow petals of the recent rose that his mother had given to him from her garden. This was nothing new to him; it was really a ritual. It was something his mother did after things calmed down, once he calmed down.

Rudy was becoming acclimated to the new ‘normal’ in his life since his mother remarried the year before, to Jack. Jack Stowman. When out of earshot, Rudy liked to refer to him as ‘Jerk’ instead of Jack, because it fit him better. He did this until Jack overheard him one time. Jack had beaten his back to near blood with his own belt. He decided to keep the name-calling to a minimum, and he’d leave the name-calling to Jerk, ah, Jack. Jack was better at it anyway. He could make his mother cry in less than three seconds. Rudy, ten going on fifty, had figured Jack to be about the meanest snake on earth. He had to be a cold-blooded serpent since he ‘played nice’ long enough for her to marry him.

Another particular day that ended with Rudy holding a rose in his bedroom began with him outside shooting hoops off the side of the old barn. He didn’t have a real ball hoop like other kids his age, so he had climbed up on an old oil drum and made a large ‘X’ mark about ten feet high, he guessed, with a piece of shale he found on the railroad tracks. He would aim for the heart of that ‘X’ with every shot. In his dreams, he wondered how good he would be on a real ball court. He couldn’t even entertain the idea of going to basketball practice at school and let his mother be alone that long with him. It was not safe for her. If he were on a ball team, he would not get home from practice until after seven in the evening. Then there were games, home and away. His mother got home from her second job around six. She had to work two jobs to keep her husband in the booze and still be able to pay the bills. She was exhausted all of the time. She hated to come home and probably wouldn’t if it was not for her Rudy. Miserable, residual-income Jack was always liquored up. It just depended on what combination of liquid poisons mixed that would determine if the night would end just bad or horribly bad. This night was one of the horribly bad nights.

It started out the usual everyday routine; Rudy walked home from school to find Jack sitting in his form-fitted recliner watching his favorite show, Boxing: Light/Middle/Heavy. Rudy never said anything to Jack first; it was safer that way. Instead, he just kept quiet and to himself in the kitchen making an afternoon snack. He always doubled his order knowing that Jack would make him give him his food anyway. He would just leave it on the sideboard and take his own snack, usually PB&J’s, outside to eat in peace.

Everything seemed ‘normal’ enough up until that point. Rudy barely finished his sandwich, licking the tips of his sticky fingers, when from nowhere; he was whacked upside the head with a baseball mitt. Man, did that hurt! He saw stars as he staggered into the middle of the driveway. Turning around to look and see what had happened, Wham! Another blow! This one actually knocked him down onto his backside into the gravel. At this point, he put his forearms up in a defensive motion. Wham! His arms hit himself in his face causing his nose to start bleeding. His ears were ringing now and he was dizzy and disoriented.

Rudy yelled aloud, What the hell are you hittin’ me for? Jack kept swinging at him, "Jack!" Rudy screamed, taking two more blows.

"You rotten punk kid. You’ve been fillin’ your damn mother’s head full of crap, haven’t chya?! Tellin’ her she could do better ‘n me, to leave me! Haven’t chya, punk?"

With nearly every syllable Jack slurred, he either took a step towards Rudy or actually hit him. Rudy had slowly shuffled on his butt across the rest of the driveway between dodging, deflecting, and receiving blows. He felt the grass in his fingers as he reached the other side of the driveway. By now, Rudy had had enough. Even though he was only twelve, he could feel the rage of a grown man building inside of him. How much was he supposed to take anyway? As Jack brought his arm back readying for another strike, Rudy took that chance to rush him around the waste. He knew that Jack was not all that stable, drunk and all, and figured he could knock him over backwards and then take off.

Rudy threw his weight forward and pounced like a hungry tiger hitting his prey—hard. He could hear the air squeezing out of the phlegm-filled lungs as he tried to take him over backwards. The surprise launch threw Jack off, he lost his balance. Down he went, smashing the back of his head on the gravel driveway. He groaned, and then lay still.

Rudy stood waiting about five feet away. He knew he should already be running, but he could not help but stand over his conquered foe. There was no blood coming from Jack’s head or ears, so Rudy figured he would be okay. He used the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his top lip and nose onto his pants. He decided to walk to the restaurant where his mother worked and warn her of what happened, while feeling more nervous about where this night would lead. He had hoped, of course, that his mother would throw Jack out on his lazy ass, but that was a hopeless dream. Finding Jack dead was his second hope.

When Rudy and his mother pulled into the driveway, Jack was not lying where Rudy had left him. The two looked at each other with dread. This was not a good thing. Rudy had wanted Jack to have stayed passed out right there all night and let him and his mother have one night of peace together- but no.

His mother put the car into park and turned it off. She just sat there staring out the front windshield gripping the steering wheel with both hands. Rudy felt bad for her, and they both knew all too well what a hornet’s nest he had stirred.

She looked over at her son with a tiny glisten of a half-sparkle and said, Rudy, how would you like to help me in the rose garden this evening?

Perplexed and yet glad, with eyebrows cocked off sideways, he responded with, Ah, yeah, mum, sure, anything you say. I’ll go get the bucket of tools. She nodded with agreement as she got out, ever so gently letting the big heavy car door barely click closed behind her. Rudy followed suit only letting his door find that first click to keep it closed.

He came back from the garage with the bucket and found his mother in the middle of all those prickly yellow roses that she prized so, already on her knees pulling weeds. He weaved his way in to her trying to avoid bad scratches. Kneeling beside his mother, he felt her hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met.

Rudy, you are a good, brave boy. You’re growing up to be a good lookin’ boy, too. Eh, hem, a young man, I mean to say. I want to apologize to you. Apologize for having you have to live with my mistakes. Jack isn’t who he made me think that he was. We both know that, but I married him, and here is where I’ll stay. We’ll get through the tough times…together, you and me. Okay? Rudy nodded, barely, only to acknowledge that he heard her, but did not agree with her statement.

She dug through the bucket, found her snip-it shears, and clipped off a perfect, unblemished rose. She brought it to her nose, closing her eyes, twisting it back and forth in slow, small circles, tickling the end of her nose, she breathed in deeply. Rudy could see a kind of peace wash over her like a drug. He marveled at the change in her demeanor just from the simple smell of a flower. Rudy did not realize how much that little flowerbed had meant to her, until that day. It was her little oasis of sanity in her screwed up world. Mother never talked about the flower garden within range of Jack. She did not want him to think for a second that it was important to her. She could take a smack across the face all right, but she would not be able to take it if Jack ruined her garden.

After taking in the refreshing scent of that perfect yellow rose, she looked over at Rudy and put it in his hand. She didn’t speak a word, but Rudy knew that she was trying to put a band-aide on his hurt soul. What Rudy’s mother did not know was that the smell of a rose would not kill the seed of hatred growing inside of him. His bitterness grew like these very weeds under his knees, faster than the actual resident did. Jack would get his though. He was sure of that. He would make sure of that.

Two days had gone by without Jack touching either one of them. Jack even slept in his chair nights leaving the bed for his wife. Every time one of them passed him in the kitchen, they would expect to be sharply nudged, pinched, or tripped….but nothing. No verbal abuse, no silent eye daggers, nothing. Both Rudy and his mother knew this could not add up to anything good. All too soon, they were proven right.

After the first couple of days of seeming to be on vacation, the abuse finally started. It was slow at first, but picked up momentum quick enough. Years had passed. Fights came and went. Beatings took place, hospital trips made, but all this at a lot less often and not nearly as physical as that time in the driveway. The sport of How fast can Jack empty a fifth bottle still was in practice, however. This year was supposed to be Rudy’s year, his senior year. Graduation! He struggled to stay in school. He got good grades easy enough, but periodically, on Jack’s really bad days, Rudy missed a lot of school having to protect his mother. He always made a point to make up any due homework and finally his day had come. The light was as bright as it was going to get at the end of this long, dreary tunnel in this town.

Throughout high school, Rudy had many conversations with his mother about her leaving with him after graduation, but she would not hear of it. She said that Jack wouldn’t be so jealous after he left and would settle down. She did not want Rudy to waste his life as she had hers and encouraged him to move on, go to college, get educated, and get a good job. It was something that could make him proud. Nevertheless, it seared Rudy to think of his mother living there all alone with that Monster.

Graduation day was all set up for two Sundays away. The Prom was this Saturday. Through everything that went on in his life that was bad, he still managed to build an outside relationship with a girl. She had said, ‘yes’ when he asked her to the Prom and this elated him beyond what he could have imagined. However, all those ‘good’ feelings soured speedily when she ditched him at the Prom. Rudy was hurt, but more humiliated and enraged than anything.

Then, to top off the great evening he had, when he arrived back at his house, ol’ Jack came slamming out of the house, pushing Rudy backwards down the front steps and out into the dooryard. He was ranting and raving, again, about the usual stuff, You ain’t stealin’ my wife jus cuz you’d graduated school! Get out! And don’t nevah come back! Jack spun around, shoving and pushing his wife in front of himself, making sure to keep himself between her and her son all the way back into the house. Her small efforts to turn around made little difference in his ability to get her into the house.

Rudy was furious by this point. He could feel the pulsating blood pounding in his forehead. This was the end of it all. He was done. He was done with Jack. He took out his switchblade from his now ripped rental tux, swung it around in a much-practiced swing, and stabbed Jack’s tire. You got it, Jack. I ain’t never coming back here! Rudy jumped into his truck and spun his way out of there leaving behind fumes of hatred, mingled and tangled with pains for his mother.

Rudy had been driving down the road quite a block of time before his mind came back to the present. He was so dazed by the whole night that he had driven three towns away without even knowing how he had gotten there.

He slammed on his breaks making the truck skid sideways off the road and onto the shoulder. He laid his head on his steering wheel.

"What do I do now? I gotta go back. I can’t just leave Mum. He’ll kill her eventually." Rudy took in a deep breath of agonizing air and exhaled it all out, clear to the bottom cells of his lungs. He considered not