Pretty Dead

By Chris Barnhart

Turning eighteen should be a highlight in a young girl's life. For Maralee Carver it was a nightmare. Someone wanted her dead. Someone was determined to see that she never reached that milestone birthday.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Barnhart
• Release date: Mar 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463818718

Book preview

Pretty Dead

Pretty Dead

For Kevin, whose love and encouragement are cherished beyond measure.

Copyright 2020 by Chris Barnhart

All rights reserved

Published by Chris Barnhart

Lodi, Ca

Cover by Chris Barnhart

Edited by Reva Williams and Carol Wallace

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means except by prior and express permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual persons are entirely coincidental.

Prologue

She’s down, Mrs. Radcliff, Gloria sighed, standing in the doorway of the library. The slight, dark haired woman, black hair graying at the temples pulled tight into a bun at the nape of her neck, wiped her hands on a dark dish towel. She was tired and it was the end of her shift as the live-in nanny for the Radcliff’s two children, Taylor and Josephine. She wanted nothing more than to get to her room, soak in a hot bath and rub some liniment on her lower back.

Fine, Gloria, thank you, the young auburn haired woman on the sofa replied with a half-smile. Was she any trouble tonight? Karen Radcliff was strikingly beautiful and the trophy wife of Farlow Radcliff, international entrepreneur. He had built his fortune in computer data storage with contracts from foreign governments and domestic corporations. He was away this night with his oldest son Egan at the new storage facility he was building in Colorado.

Luckily I found Annie.

Oh wonderful. Where did you find it?

Under the kitchen table, Ma’am.

The woman laughed and shook her head. There would have been hell to pay if that doll went missing.

Si, she is quite attached to it, ragged as that old thing is.

It belonged to Farlow’s mother, the woman replied. It’s supposed to be raggedy. It’s a Raggedy Ann doll.

Oh, okay, said Gloria. I grew up with corn husk dolls in Mexico.

Then I think that will be all for tonight. Has Taylor gone to bed?

Si. He’s doing his homework. His desk light is still on.

Fine. I’ll be up in a minute to kiss them goodnight. Oh, would you do one more thing before you leave?

Si.

Find that little dark blue print dress and the matching tights for Josephine. Lay them out for me. I have that afternoon tea at the Godfrey’s tomorrow afternoon. Their daughter is the same age as Josephine so I’m going to take her with me.

And the stroller?

Yes, of course.

Goodnight, ma’am.

Goodnight, Gloria.

Gloria wearily climbed the winding staircase up to the second floor. She tossed the towel over her shoulder and stifled a yawn. She thought again about retiring. She had been with the Radcliff family since the oldest boy, Egan was ten. He was now twenty-five and working for his father at Radcliff International. Taylor was her favorite. Gloria pretty much raised the quiet, shy boy when he came from New York to live in California. Farlow said something about his mother, one of his very short lived marriages, was admitted to a rehab facility for an acute opioid addiction. Gloria never met her and the other women Farlow had been involved with but there were pictures, like trophies, on the walls throughout the mansion.

Gloria never knew Farlow’s first wife, Cleo, but her portrait hung in Farlow’s den. She too was a dark haired beauty, tall and stately with a bit of a stern countenance.

This new wife, Karen, was different. She was very young, tall with soft dark eyes, a beauty that had graced the covers of fashion magazines all over the world. She bore a resemblance to Farlow’s first wives, especially Cleo. Karen was kind to Gloria, but there was a detachment that Gloria could not fathom. She left all of her fourteen month old daughter’s care to Gloria, never seeming to even want to hold the child. Taking her to the tea tomorrow was just showing her off to her elite circle of friends.

Gloria stopped at the top of the stairs and silently cursed under her breath. The dogs were barking near the house. Carlos probably left the gate open again. It was hard enough to get Josephine to sleep with all that noise. Sure enough, she could hear the baby stirring.

Gloria slowly pushed open Taylor’s door and peeked in.

Goodnight, niño, she whispered. Karen will be up in a few minutes.

Taylor turned and gave Gloria a toothy grin. Gracias, abuela. My Spanish is getting much better. His soft brown eyes and crooked smile warmed Gloria’s heart. She had never married or had children of her own. Taylor was like a son to her. He had just turned fourteen and was going to be a handsome young man. He loved music and Farlow had bought him a baby grand piano, which he mastered easily, but his favorite was the Martin guitar. Gloria played a little Spanish classical guitar and the two would sit in the afternoons out in the garden and sing and strum.

What are you studying?

I have an algebra test tomorrow.

How do you think you will do?

Dad hired me a tutor, so I will probably do okay. I really hate math.

Suddenly, they both heard a popping sound outside and the dogs starting barking wildly. Josephine whimpered in the room across the hall.

Oh, mio, Gloria sighed. Where is that Carlos?

Behind the Egan’s boathouse with his tequila, Taylor laughed. Do you want me to go out and find him?

You study. You need to bring your grades up if you want to get into Harvard like your brother.

A scowl suddenly masked Taylor’s thin face and a lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. I am not my brother.

No, you are smarter than he is, and if I may say so, more handsome.

A shy smile suddenly replaced the scowl. I’m not going to Harvard. I’m going to take some time and do some traveling, see the world first.

Gloria rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. And then what?

And then go to work for dad. What else is there?

Nino, it’s whatever your dream is. Follow your heart. Follow your dreams. Goodnight.

Gloria softly closed Taylor’s door and silently crossed the carpeted hall to the nursery. In the dim soft light of the nightlight, she could see the dark haired girl in her crib clutching the Raggedy Anne doll and softly crying. Gloria picked the baby up, wrapped her in her blanket and sat in the white rocking chair.

You need to go to sleep, little one, Gloria said as she rocked and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

No, no, Josephine shook her head and pointed to the window.

That’s just the puppies, Jake and Toby. They’re bad dogs tonight. They should be sleeping just like you.

Josephine’s wide brown eyes stared into Gloria’s as they rocked. Now will you go to sleep? She rocked the baby and sang a soft lullaby in Spanish until Josephine’s curled up on Gloria’s shoulder and fell fast asleep. Gloria rose slowly and took a step toward the crib and stopped dead as several more loud pops were heard. She didn’t move, her ears straining for more sounds. The dogs were suddenly quiet. Unexplained fear caused the hairs to rise on Gloria’s arms. She reached in the crib and grabbed the rag doll and shoved it into the baby’s arms who never wakened. She wrapped the baby and the doll tighter in the light blanket and slowly opened the door.

Did you hear that? Taylor asked as he stepped out of his room and started from the stairs.

Stay up here, Gloria ordered sharply.

There was more popping. Suddenly, there was a loud banging on the front door and the sound of breaking glass from the back of the house. A woman screamed.

Teresa, that was Teresa down in the kitchen! Taylor yelled as he started again for the stairs. Where’s Karen?

Taylor, stay up here, Gloria’s voice was emphatic and filled with fear. Where is your cell phone?

In my room.

Get it and stay in your room, lock the door and call 911.

Taylor nodded and slammed his door shut just as rapid gun fire erupted downstairs. There were more screams and a man shouting. It sounded like Carlos and it came from the back of the house. More gunfire and yelling. Gloria recognized Diego the cook’s voice as she eased out into the hallway just as the entire house was plunged into complete darkness. Her stomach knotted and she clutched Josephine tighter who surprisingly was still fast asleep. Karen screamed downstairs and she was pleading for her life. Gloria tried to close her ears and concentrated on getting her and Josephine to safety but her eyes were filling with tears.

Gloria felt her way down the hallway toward a closed door and opened it as quietly as she could. She blindly stepped down into a narrow stairwell used by the servants of the household. It led into the laundry room. She took a deep breath and eased the door open. The laundry room was dark, only the moonlight from a window in the backdoor shed a grayish blue light into the room. She pushed aside the sheer curtain and looked out into the yard. Shadows were moving and she could see a crumpled form laying by the three-car garage in a pool of light from the security light on the next door neighbor’s garage. In the kitchen she could hear low, rough voices. She had to make her move but where to go? She had no car keys, those were in her purse along with her cell phone in the room she lived in off the other end of the kitchen. She had the overwhelming urge to get out of the house. She said a whispered prayer for protection and that Josephine wouldn’t wake up.

She stepped out onto the rear porch and tripped, nearly dropping the baby. Laying at her feet was the body of Teresa Montoya, one of the live-in maids. Her lifeless eyes were open and staring at the moon. Gloria stifled a gasp and put her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out.

She kept to the shadows and made her way around to the side of house. The gunman walked right past her down the driveway. He was dressed all in black with a black motorcycle type helmet with a black visor. He carried an assault rifle but had he turned toward the house he would have run right into Gloria. She counted to ten in her head in Spanish then again in English. The men in black seemed everywhere. If she could get across the driveway, she knew that there was a path through the bushes that led down to what the kids called the boathouse. It was just an old shed that the boys used to build their model airplanes, store their surf boards and jet skis. It was often a peaceful place where she and Teresa could take their lunch breaks under the trees since it was seldom used anymore. She could hide there until the police came.

Why had the police not come yet? Surely, Taylor had made the call. She chanced a glance up at his bedroom window and her throat tightened. Flames flickered in the window of his room. Then she smelled the smoke. The house was on fire.

Gloria turned and ran. She stumbled through the brush, past the garages and what she hoped was the direction of the river and the boathouse. She chanced a quick look over her shoulder and she could see the glow of the fire against the night sky. Why had she heard no sirens? All she could hear was the occasional popping of gunfire. Farlow had private security at the mansion but they were there only when Farlow was in residence. He was supposed to return this evening but Karen got a call from him that he had been delayed in Chicago and would be back on Sunday.

Gloria stopped to catch her breath and stop the baby from fussing. Finally, sirens. She breathed a sigh of relief but it was short lived.

Check those trees, a male voice whispered. Make sure nobody got away through there. Leave no survivors.

Yes, sir, came a gruff reply.

Gloria tensed. Josephine was still asleep and Gloria covered the little head with the edge of the blanket. She eased back into the shadows next to the path trying to make no sound. A branch of a pine tree cracked under her foot and she froze with fear. Gently she laid Josephine under the tree and covered her with some of the pine boughs.

Come out of there, now! the gruff voice ordered. A rough hand grabbed Gloria and dragged her out of the brush.

Please don’t hurt me, she pleaded.

In answer, she was shoved back up the path toward the house. They were met by another man clothed in black and black visor.

This all of them? he asked.

Yes, let’s get out of here, he replied as he turned and shot Gloria at point blank range.

Chapter 1

She’s a little spirited so give her some room, Jason coached as he watched the dark haired girl, long single braid flopping down her back, ride around the corral on the big sorrel mare. You’re doing fine. Easy now. That’s it. Good job, Maralee. Okay, that’s good for today. A car horn sounded and Jason waved to the woman in the old Dodge pickup truck. Your mom’s here!

Maralee Carver slid off the horse and handed the reins to the young, blond man. I just love her, Jason, she said as she stroked the mare’s white blaze. Ruby is beautiful. Thanks for the coaching.

As long as your work is done for Addison and Gerry Anne you can come out here and ride her again.

They keep me pretty busy, the pretty seventeen year old smiled. How long have you worked here?

Two years, he replied. My dad was the ranch foreman before…. He stopped and Maralee saw the pain on his thin face. She didn’t want to press. Something had happened that he didn’t want to talk about and she respected it. Jason was a quiet young man, tall and lanky, the typical cowboy. He had taught Maralee to ride a few months ago when she came to work part time after school and on weekends at the Richard’s ranch.

They keep you pretty busy. You work full time?

Lot’s to do on a ranch, Jason agreed, but the Richards are great to work for. You gonna still work here after graduation?

That’s a few months away, she replied as she and Jason walked together toward the corral gate. I’ve applied for a couple of scholarships but I haven’t heard anything yet.

You still want to be a veterinarian? Maralee looked at the truck then sighed. She don’t want me to leave. Cries every time I mention going away to college. Lately, she gets anxious if Ollie and I go into town.

Well, what does she expect you to do around here? There ain’t nothing but farms and ranches.

I guess she wants me to work at the café like she does or work full time here. Jason, that scares me. I don’t want to end up living in a trailer the rest of my life like we do now. I’ve got to get out of here.

Have you applied to Chico State? That’s the closest college. I went there for a year. It’s got a good veterinarian program. It’s not that far away. You could commute and still work here on weekends.

I want to go to UC Davis, she replied, but my mother won’t hear of it.

Well, it's not like she could afford it. The silence was suddenly uncomfortable. Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m struggling to get more money to continue at Chico.

No problem, Jason. Even if my dad was still alive, I’d still need scholarship money or try for a student loan. He was just a farm machine mechanic. We’ve lived in trailer parks all my life. I need a miracle to go to UC Davis, or at least a good student loan.

Yeah, me too. My scholarship ran out after the first year. I’m looking for more funding, too. If I hear of anything, I’ll let you know.

Thanks. See ya, Jason.

Hey, go easy on the old lady.

Maralee smiled. I’ll see you Wednesday afternoon. Take care of Ruby. She grabbed her backpack that had been hanging on the fence post and waved.

Jason waved back as Maralee ran to the truck and climbed in beside her mother.

How was your day, sweetie? Sophia Carver asked as Maralee climbed in. Sophia’s dark eyes smiled at her daughter. She’s growing up way too fast, the middle-aged woman thought to herself. I’m losing control and I’m scared. She wanted to reach over and give Maralee a hug but it was not her daughter’s nature to be emotionally demonstrative and would often shrug away from that type of affection.

Aced the biology test, she replied, but I don’t know how I did on the English lit test. I don’t want it to ruin my three point nine grade average.

Sophia stiffened. She did not want another confrontation about college.

So how was work?

I ache all over, Maralee sighed as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. I swept out the barn and curried three of the horses. My favorite is Ruby. You should see her, Mom. Jason let me ride her today.

Good, was Sophia’s clipped response.

How was your day, Mom?

Busy. Really busy. You know, Marty still has that opening at the café. He asked me again if you would be interested. It pays a little more than what Addie Richards is paying you and it would go full time this summer.

Maralee squeezed her eyes tight and her hands clutched the strap of her backpack with white knuckles. She was too exhausted to get into another go-nowhere argument.

I like working for Addie, she replied almost in a whisper. Gerry Anne mentioned they’d give me more hours this summer.

But Marty will pay you a little more plus there are tips. You could start saving for that new iphone you want. Five Bees.

5G, Mom. The one I have works just fine.

Or that flat screen television for your room.

Mother….

Okay, okay. I get it. There aren’t any animals in a restaurant.

Just the ones that eat there.

Maralee…

Sorry.

The strained silence continued all the way to the Lumar Trailer Park where Sophia pulled in next to a single wide, faded blue and white trailer with a sagging aluminum awning over the front window and a wood and corrugated metal one over the long porch that stretched along the side of the trailer. The truck tires crunched to a stop over the cracked dirt and weedy lane that passed for a street between the rows of travel trailers and single wides that hadn’t seen a road in fifty years. Some were tucked back into the trees, some had doors or windows missing, so the three bedroom one that Sophia rented was one of the best of the lot.

The park was just a few miles outside of the town of Shoneyville, an agricultural town on the north western side of California’s Central Valley, population nineteen hundred if you count some of the transient seasonal workers that came during planting and harvest season. Sophia’s husband Lee was just such a transient, except he was a mechanic. He worked on harvesters, tractors, conveyors in the packing sheds, traveling up and down the valley before he died of cancer five years ago. Maralee and younger brother Ollie spent most of their elementary school years traveling from trailer park to trailer park in a modern toy hauler RV, changing grade schools every year. It didn’t give them much opportunity to make lasting friends so the siblings became close, almost inseparable. They were only one year apart in age but worlds apart in personality and looks. Where Maralee was slim, long legged with auburn hair and violet blue eyes, Ollie was built like a linebacker already at sixteen. His light brown hair was curly and unruly and he had Sophia’s dark brown eyes.

After Lee’s death, Sophia needed a place to put down some roots for her kids. She wanted an out of the way place, as far from civilization as was feasible. She sold the toy hauler, piled the kids and whatever she could pack in Lee’s old pickup truck, and by family vote for the best place they could remember staying, they went to Shoneyville. Sophia got a job as a waitress at Marty’s Airport Café next to a small airstrip used mostly by crop dusters and enrolled the two kids in the local middle school. With her salary and tips, and money from the sale of the toy hauler and Lee’s tools, she rented the single wide at Lumar. When the kids saw it they balked, argued and cried.

It’s a slum! Maralee protested. We used to stay over in the park on Grantline Road. It was so much nicer than this dump. And it had a pool and clubhouse.

And free WiFi, Ollie whined. Why can’t we stay there?

It’s expensive, Sophia said. Now that your father is gone, we have to watch every penny.

Something was off, Maralee thought over the next few years. Sophia made a waitress salary but she and Ollie lacked for nothing. The quality of their meals was even better than when Lee was alive, the refrigerator was always full and the pantry stocked. There was a dish for receiving television programming and Maralee and Ollie had new school clothes every year. There was money for extra-curricular activities at school and computers for each of them.

So why do we live in this trash heap? Ollie asked Maralee while they were walking to the school bus stop one morning.

You noticed that Mom hasn’t been really the same since Dad died? Maralee mused.

We just lost our dad, Ollie argued. She’s in mourning.

"That’s not it. I know they were married a long time, but it seems like she wants to hide away or something. She never goes anywhere except to work. She’s even been sending us to the market