Chapter 23- Momma’s Sleeping
Ryder
The sight of Tiffany stepping from her mother's car struck Ryder like a physical blow - his nurse transformed into high society, highlighting the gulf between their worlds. Yet beneath the designer suit, he caught glimpses of the woman who'd chosen him over all this.
Ryder was all kinds of turned on, but at the same time, it drove home just how much above his class he was marrying. Her father had set the bar pretty high, in terms of providing. He’d just have to step up his game.
Stalking over to meet her, he could tell she was affected by her meeting with the crazy ex. “You okay, Tiff?”
“Sure am,”
she said quickly. “Can we get this over with?”
He didn’t believe her for a minute, but Ryder decided to let it go. If she didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t force it.
Leading her over to the front door, they watched his father pick the lock. Hickory was standing beside an open utility box in the front of the property, messing around with some wires. He slammed the box shut and joined them on the porch. “I shut off the electricity to the whole house. That will take care of any security system.”
The two older men pulled out flashlights. Ryder mumbled something about “fucking boy scouts”
under his breath as they entered the house. Since Stuart had large, open windows and modern skylights, the rooms were reasonably well-lit. Tiffany immediately reached into a drawer in the foyer table and pulled out emergency flashlights for everyone else.
They headed straight down into the basement in question, and Ven began picking locks. The first one opened on an old-fashioned child’s room. Sitting in the middle of the room was a man dressed in blue jeans, a button-up shirt with trains on it, and vintage chucks. Glancing over his shoulder, he scrambled to his feet.
“Shit, is that you, Tiffany? Tell me this is a rescue, girl.”
The childish setting twisted against the grown man's presence, creating a tableau that belonged in a horror movie rather than a millionaire's basement. But in Ryder's world, the darkest secrets often hid behind the most respectable facades.
Tiffany
Ryder stepped in front of her when she tried to approach the man. Tiffany peered around her lover’s bulky form. “Walter, is that you?”
“It was only ever the three of us, Tiff,”
he said desperately. “When you took off, mister crazy pants snagged me.”
Pushing past Ryder, she rushed over to her long-ago friend. “I don’t understand, Walt. What in the hell did he want with you?”
Looking disgusted, he replied blandly, “Stupid fucking games, Tiff. What else? You know how he is. We color, play Pac Man and stupid shit like that. I’ve been here for months, and I’m so over this gig.”
“Wait, he was paying you be his playmate?”
she asked with a deep frown.
Nodding, Walter replied, “It beats the shit out of flipping burgers. It was fun at first, but after a while, eating pizza and playing video games got old. I wanted to leave, so he tossed my ass in here. I want to go home, Tiff. Are you going to make that happen for me, or should I go back to watching cartoons?”
Grabbing his hand, Tiffany pulled him out into the hall. “We have to see what’s in the rest of the rooms. There could be more people.”
The man sighed. “We can look if you want, but there was never anyone but the three of us.”
Ryder snaked an arm around her waist. “That’s the second fucking time you said that. What do you mean it was only ever the three of you?”
Tiffany patted his arms as his father picked another lock. “He means that during all the time we were in school, we were Stuart’s only true friends. We were the only ones who talked to him, colored with him, and played with him on the playground.”
“That’s all kinds of weird.”
Before Tiffany could answer, another door popped open. This one was filled with expensive train sets. It looked kind of like a museum. “Fuck me. Just when I don’t think things can get any weirder…”
Walter sighed. When he spoke, his voice was almost haunted. “We play in here sometimes.”
Ryder stared at the grown man dressed like a little boy. “Dude, you need to get a real life.”
“Thanks for the insight, you stupid fuck,”
Walter spat.
For a brief moment, Walter sounded just like Ace. Poking Ryder in the chest, Tiffany murmured. “Don’t get attached to him. He’s staying in Smallville.”
“You’re a funny lady.”
Ryder’s expression let her know that he caught her little joke.
Hickory was standing at the door with his arm around Sarah. “We got two more doors. How about we open them and get the fuck outta here. This place is giving me the creeps.”
Ven made short order of the next door, but the room was totally barren. They weren’t so lucky with the next room. As soon as the door cracked open, they could smell the faint scent of death. It smelled like a funeral parlor.
Stepping into the room, Tiffany realized exactly why. It was an older woman’s bedroom. The floor had been covered with plush carpeting and a huge oriental rug. Books filled two massive shelves, and there were old-fashioned knickknack sitting about, and a chess set on a nearby table for two.
A huge bed ate up the largest share of the space. It had nightstands on each side and lamps with pretty shades. Luxurious bedding covered the body of an older woman who was wearing a lovely gown and had her hair brushed lovingly back out of her face, with long locks of silver hair curling around her shoulders. If not for the gray color of her skin, she could have been mistaken for sleeping.
“It’s Suzie Que.”
Sarah’s voice was almost a whisper from the back of the room. “She was Old Man Chamberlin’s first wife. We all thought she died in a boating accident.”
A sound came from the doorway. Stuart strolled in, shocking everyone and murmuring as he passed, “It was nice of you folks to drop by for a visit.”
Stuart's voice carried an eerie normalcy that made the scene more disturbing. “Momma loves company.”
His casual tone turned the grim tableau into something out of a nightmare.
Sitting on the side of the bed, he picked up a small brush from the nightstand and ran it gently through a lock of her hair. “Wake up, Momma. You have visitors. I told you my Tiffany would come back to me.”
Ryder whispered in her ear, “Shit, the dude’s really lost it.”
“I can hear you, Mister Staunton,”
Stuart said over his shoulder. “Momma does not like cursing, so keep a civil tongue if you want to stay and visit.”
Tiffany’s hand flew to her mouth to smother a strangled sound. She’d always known something strange was going on with Stuart. Somehow, she never expected it was this. How long had this been going on? Her mind literally couldn’t process what she was seeing. Her knees went weak, and Ryder wrapped one arm around her to help steady her.
Clearly, no one knew what to say. Finally, timid Sarah stepped forward. Putting a hand on Stuart’s shoulder, she asked, “How long has Miss Suzie been sick?”
“My father tried to get rid of her in that boating accident, but I wouldn’t allow that to happen,”
Stuart monotoned. “I pulled her out of the water and took her to a safe place. Only she didn’t do so well after that. No matter what the doctors did for her, she just kept getting sadder. The doctors wanted to put her in a home, but I learned how to take care of her. Sometimes, she talks like it’s old times, and sometimes she just ignores me. She’s been ignoring me for days now, and I can’t get her to eat a thing.”
Sarah spoke kindly like a mother would. “You did real good by your mother, Stuart. She’s real proud of you, but you have to let her go now. You do know that, don’t you?”
Pulling the blankets up around her, he murmured despondently, “Maybe tomorrow.”
Tiffany stepped forward. Grabbing his hand, she hauled him to his feet. “Not tomorrow, Stuart. You’re going to let go today.”
“I can’t, Tiff,”
he said sadly.
“Why not?”
“The undertakers will drain her blood and cram her in a metal box. I can’t let them do that.”
Recovering from the shock of hearing that, Tiffany felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Hauling in a much-needed breath, she suggested, “I think we should bury her under the huge oak tree behind your house. We’ll keep her in the nice nightgown she loved so much and wrapped in her bed clothes, so she’ll be nice and comfortable. How does that sound?”
Looking down at her, Stuart teared up. “You’re not coming back to me, are you?”
“No, Stuart,”
Tiffany admitted with a shake of her head, “I’m not. I promise to take you somewhere safe where you can rest and get the help you need to get over your mother’s death.”
“Death?”
he said, his voice rising. “She’s not dead. She’s just sleeping, Tiff. Saay it. Say it now!”
It was obvious he was a scant inch from losing it. Reaching out to touch his arm, she intoned, “You’re right, she’s only sleeping. I don’t know why I said that.”
As if speaking to himself, Stuart returned his gaze to his mother and mumbled, “She’ll have a nice long sleep, and then wake up in heaven.”
On some level, he must have understood she was dead. He just wasn’t ready to accept it.
“Come on upstairs,”
Tiffany suggested. “I’ll make you a nice coffee, just the way you like.”
Ryder chimed in quietly, “I say we give him a nice little dirt nap as well, ‘cause this is all kinds of crazy.”
Shooting him an annoyed look, Tiffany said sternly, “We are not giving my friend a dirt nap.”
Ryder shot back, “So he’s your friend now that we discovered how crazy the dude really is?”
Ignoring his jibe, Tiffany pointed to the door. “Get with the program. If everyone thinks she’s dead, his father has already collected the insurance money. When the police start crawling all over this, they’re going to interrogate the man who has been moving heaven and earth to take care of her. Look at the man,”
she snapped, pointing at Stuart whose hinges were clearly coming unglued. “Does he look like he’s in any condition to get into all that with them?”
Ryder was clearly not on board with helping her ex whatsoever. “Since when are we caring about that?”
Taking a frustrated breath, she stated calmly, “There are probably shovels out in the shed.”
The words felt surreal coming from her lips—practical solutions to impossible problems. She'd spent years running from Stuart's madness, but facing it had given her an unexpected clarity. Evil wasn't always what it seemed.”
Stubbornly refusing to move, Ryder stated flatly, “This isn’t remotely legal. You can’t just go around burying people wherever you want, you know that, right?”
“You’re an outlaw. Since when has breaking the law been a problem for you?”
she retorted, knowing full well she was hitting below the belt. But come on, who was he to judge?
Scowling, Ryder’s mouth opened and closed before he replied, “Good point.”
Stepping back, he shot the newly released hostage an annoyed look. Come the fuck on, Walter. I ain’t digging this grave all by myself.”
Shaking his head, the man lifted his hands. “I don’t want any part of this.”
Shooting him an irritated look, Ryder shrugged. “Fine, I’m putting you back in the kiddy room.”
“Fucking fine, I’ll help.”
He jabbed a finger at Ryder. “That’s blackmail, and you know it.”
Ignoring the men, Tiffany took Stuart upstairs and began making coffee for him. Hickory stayed behind with the women, and Ven went out to supervise the grave digging.
Sarah sat across from Stuart telling him cool stories about his mother when she was young. They sat for a while looking through picture albums. Stuart was quiet, despondent, and seemed more broken than she could ever remember him being, and despite their volatile history, she felt sorry for him. Leaning over the dining room table, she watched them talking in the next room.
Hickory landed on a chair at the table. “What are you so deep in thought about, Tiffany?”
“I was just wondering how it is that all the villains in my life turned out to be just regular people with extraordinary problems,”
she mused.
His gaze shifted in the direction of Stuart and her mother. “I think that’s all any of us are. We’re just imperfect beings in an imperfect world.”
Tiffany sighed. “I suppose that’s true, but just for once, I’d like to run into a good old-fashioned dyed-in-the-wool evil villain.”
“I can tell you never met one,”
he said, meeting her eyes across the table. “I have, and let me just say, you’re lucky to have steered clear of them.”
“I think that we should try to find him a good psychiatric hospital.”
“We sure as hell can’t leave a crazy stalker running around abducing people and holding them hostage in his basement.”
“He didn’t used to be like this, you know,”
she told him. “He was real strange, awkward, and misunderstood, but I’m guessing this thing with his dad trying to kill his mother pushed him right over the edge. I was probably too close to see it.”
“If you hadn’t finally figured it out, I don’t want to think how many people he’d have abducted or what he would have ended up doing to them.”
“I think I’ll take him back with me and find a treatment center where I can make regular visits and keep up with his progress. If I leave him here, he’ll just call his dad to come and pick him up.”
“I can tell you right now that if he leaves before his treatment is complete or if the damn treatment doesn’t take, Ryder and Ven will punch his ticket faster than you can blink,”
he informed her, and she knew without a doubt it was true. “They won’t risk him hurting you or turning into some kind of serial killer.”
“What you’re saying is that this is his last chance,”
Tiffany voiced her concern.
He stared into her eyes gravely. “Yes, ma'am, that's exactly what I'm saying.”
The weight of his words settled over her like a shroud. She'd wanted to save Stuart from his demons, but some salvations came with deadlines attached.
In the end, his redemption would depend not just on treatment, but on whether a broken mind could rebuild itself before her new family's patience ran out.