by Scott, D. D.
Before I could spend any more time recreating what could have been Jack’s final moments, Grendel sprung off my lap and began barking like a crazed lunatic.
What I wouldn’t give to send him after Bitchy Betty.
But in the meantime, perhaps I wouldn’t have to wait as long as I thought to buddy up to our donut boys.
Sweet.
Coming at us from across the field was what looked to be an unmarked SUV squad. The only reason I knew it was from The Department was because the bright sun was bouncing off the light bar across the windshield and also reflecting off the shiny brass on the occupant’s uniform.
Looks like I’d be able to put my plan into action sooner than I’d thought.
Good…’cause our stiff might have started out on ice, but this investigation was about to heat up. And that didn’t mean anything good would come out of it for Nicky.
Not unless I did what I do best…
Work every damn angle I can and make every detail count.
I know what makes a good story, and I know how to spin my own yarns too.
Nicky’s well-being depended on it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
With the squad now just a few feet from Nicky’s truck, I hurried up and brushed my lips with a nice swath of gloss, fluffed my hair and prepared to play ball.
I wished I could unzip my parka a wee bit lower, but that thing was staying tightly secured around my throat. It was just too damn cold for such reckless behavior, not that I wouldn’t go there if I had to. But hopefully in this deep freeze, the gloss and unruly hair would be enough.
Unfortunately, Grendel apparently wanted in on the action too. The rather delightful beast was stomping all over me, evidently trying to beat me out of the truck.
Just as I was about to make it out of his way, he shoved past me, his huge snout hitting me square in the back.
I tumbled out of the truck and went face first into a snow drift.
I laid there a minute. Dazed and confused. But not confused enough to know that dog was in some kinda trouble if and when I managed to get up.
Oh well…the damsel in distress tactic always seemed to work. So maybe all was not lost other than my pride.
“Uh…miss…you okay down there?”
Although the question was muffled thanks to the snow that had wedged itself between my parka hood and ears, I could tell the guy’s voice was deeper than deep and twinged with a slight edge of mischief. Or was that amusement at my predicament?
Oh well. I suppose it was funny from where he stood.
Not as funny from my angle.
I’d love to have asked him to help me, but I was eating snow as well as wearing it.
Before I could spit out Mother Nature’s snow cone, which was giving me quite the brain freeze from hell and answer the man, I felt his big hand cupped around the one elbow I had that wasn’t buried beneath the snow. He carefully, but with a gentle strength I could get used to, helped me to my feet.
I could feel snow packed in my hair, running down my face…and yeah…running down my back and inside my snow pants too.
Grendel was in some seriously deep doo-doo.
“Again, Miss…are you ok?” Deputy Save-The-Day asked.
For once, I had no clue what to say, but thankfully I didn’t have to say much yet, not until I was finished getting lost in his Caribbean blue eyes.
He had to be a good fifteen years older than me. But wow, those years had been kind. From his eyes to his snow-white and silver hair, and suntanned face, he had definitely aged well.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Yep…and just like that, Nicky’s smart ass comment broke the intriguing silence between the Captain and I. Nicky just didn’t seem to know how to treat a woman. But I had a feeling my Captain here did.
His Sheriff’s Department badge identified him as Captain Scott Allen, and was I ever glad to be making his acquaintance.
I didn’t even answer Nicky’s question. I just glared at him and leaned into the Captain who still had me by the elbow.
“What a way to meet, right?” I asked him, trying to brush off more snow with my free hand.
“You could say that,” Captain Allen answered.
The twinkle in his eye still flickered and warmed my heart at the same time.
“So what brings you all the way out here?” I asked, pretty much guessing the reason, but wanting the Captain to take the lead.
It certainly wasn’t my job to offer up scoop that no one from his department had yet bothered to ask. They were gonna have to work for it.
“We’ve got a little trouble with estimating the time of death, due to the snow and all,” he said, clearing his throat before continuing, “so I’m going to need to ask you both some more questions.”
I did not like the extra emphasis he’d put on the “both” qualifier, but I wasn’t about to let him see me sweat. Not as if I would be sweating anytime soon with snow packed into my pants along with every other thing I was wearing. Trust me, I was having no problem chillin’ out and letting the investigation sit on ice just like I was.
“Sure thing, Captain Allen,” Nicky broke in. “Why don’t we all head back to the house so Sam here can get into some dry clothes?”
He opened up the truck door from which I’d taken my big ass tumble and motioned for me to get in, but before I could head that way, Grendel beat me to it again.
“Go ahead, Nicky. I’ll ride with Captain Allen,” I said, looking at the Captain, who had a big cute grin tugging at the corners of his mouth and sexy as hell aviator sunglasses back in place. “If that’s okay with you…”
“Fine with me,” Captain Allen said, leading me back to his SUV then opening the passenger door for me.
I climbed into his squad and smiled at Nicky who was mumbling and shaking his head as he walked around the bed of his truck to chauffeur himself and Grendel to our next round of interrogation.
Let him think what he wants, I thought to myself. He needs to get a grip on some manners, and his dog does too.
In the meantime, the sweet Captain wasn’t going to be the only one asking questions. I had a ton of ‘em too. And I couldn’t wait to start asking them.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The ride back to the farmhouse was filled with the stilted chitchat of two people trying to make the best of a rather awkward situation. In other words, we exchanged silly comments about the weather.
And speaking of the weather, it was a wee bit difficult to be conversational at all when I was literally freezing my ass off. Hell, my teeth were chattering, which probably made me appear nervous. And that was not the impression I needed to make.
But as far as first impressions went, where Captain Allen was concerned, I liked what I was seeing and hearing. Oh, he had that Tough Guy Cop aura, but there was also a kind, gentle giant way about him that I really liked.
I could tell in just one short ride with him that he was truly one of the good guys. And in today’s politically ruled law enforcement world, the good guys were getting harder and harder to come by.
It used to be that officers acted based on what’s right and wrong as determined by our laws. But not so much anymore. Now, matters are first analyzed for their political ramifications. Morality, human decency and justice have moved way down the priority scale.
Captain Allen, though, appeared to be old-school fair and tough but also open-minded enough to consider all the facts, not just the ones leading to hasty case wrap-ups.
“Did you want to go ahead and get on into the house? You could probably use some dry clothes and a cup of Molly’s famous cocoa too,” he said.
Despite my frozen state, I blushed. And I knew I was because I could feel the heat warming up my snow-blasted cheeks.
“Yeah. Sure thing. Sorry. I just got lost in my thoughts for a moment,” I said, feeling like a total idiot, and not sure how long the SUV had been at a stop.
“Bet that could be interesting,” he said, before turning off
the motor.
“Scary too,” I admitted.
“Don’t doubt that either.”
“How do you know about Molly’s hot cocoa?” I asked, reasoning that because Nicky didn’t seem to know Captain Allen that Molly wouldn’t either.
“Her family and my family go way back. I was practically raised on that cocoa.”
Interesting, I thought. And no wonder I’d taken an instant liking to him. If he was a friend of Molly’s then I knew I was in good, trustworthy hands.
• • •
About an hour later, following a nice, hot as I could stand it shower and a change of clothes, I joined the Captain and Nicky around the breakfast nook table for cocoa and questioning.
“What I don’t understand, Nicky,” Captain Allen began.
“Please, call me Nick,” Nicky said, his eyes shooting daggers at me.
I just shrugged my shoulders, winked at Nicky then looked at the Captain as if to say “not sure what he has against Nicky…your guess is as good as mine.”
“Okay, Nick. What I don’t understand, and pardon me if this sounds naive, ‘cause I’m certainly no farm expert. But our vic was found near your chicken coop. So wouldn’t your chickens have made a lot of noise when the crime happened?”
“We don’t have chickens, just…”
Nicky got a dreadful look on his face.
“Just Napoleon, our rooster. If you’ll excuse me. Damn! I forgot all about him.”
He shot up from the table, shoved his feet back into his boots and grabbed his parka before hurrying out the back door.
Captain Allen and I watched out the windows as Nicky raced back down to the coop.
Reaching the crime scene tape, which evidently still had to be there or else someone had forgotten to take it down, he looked back at us as if wanting to know if it was okay to go under it.
Captain Allen motioned for him to go ahead and cross the line into the coop.
“If a stranger was out there and a body too, I don’t understand why a rooster wouldn’t start screeching or whatever it is that they do,” I said.
“Let’s just hope the little guy wasn’t another victim,” Captain Allen said.
I could tell he really meant it too.
The man liked animals. Another huge plus in my book.
I may be tough on people and really not that fond of ‘em in general, but damn, don’t get me started where animals are concerned. I’m a card-carrying PETA member and can’t stand the thought of any animal being harmed.
If something bad had happened to Napoleon, our perps had a whole new level of angst comin’ at ‘em.
Taking out assholes like Jack Collins? Well…let’s just say karma can be a real bitch.
But taking out an animal?
I would personally see to it that karma dealt with that kind of killer sooner rather than later.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As if it wasn’t bad enough that I had to deal with a non-fictional stiff, a renegade cow and a bitchy editor, somebody had apparently stolen my rooster too.
I couldn’t imagine why someone would want to kidnap a barnyard fowl, but what other conclusion could I come to? If anyone disturbed Napoleon’s sleep, he would have certainly raised quite a ruckus. Why wouldn’t the killer have just offed the feisty little cock? But there was no evidence of his colorful plumage in sight.
Walking back up to the house from the chicken coop, I was lost in my own personal bubble of Eeyore-like woe. I couldn’t begin to sort through all the thoughts spinning around my head.
Just as I reached out for the knob of the garage door, my cell phone rang.
It was Mom.
What now?
“Nicholas?”
I knew immediately that something wasn’t right. She only used my full name when she was angry or upset. That fact coupled with her voice sounding shaky and uncertain had me once more on high alert.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, hoping she hadn’t already heard what was going on at the farm but not knowing any other reason for her to sound so distraught.
“I think somebody’s been sneaking around outside the lake house the last couple of days, and I also think there’s a banshee in my potting shed.”
“Okay, first things first,” I said, trying to calm both of us while beginning to create a storyboard for these latest scenarios in my head.
“What makes you think someone is sneaking around outside the cottage?”
“Well, a couple of different times now, I thought I’ve seen something strange out the back windows, but I chalked it up to nerves. You know how I get sometimes when I think about your father.”
The conversation skipped a beat along with my heart. It had been a pretty rough year for her, and for me too, but over the past few months, it seemed to have been getting better.
“Then, this afternoon, when I finally got up the nerve to take a look outside,” she continued, “I saw footprints in the snow.”
“And you’re sure they weren’t your own?”
Another pause, this time from her end. I could just picture the expression on her face as she tried to recall the details. Details were not her strong point.
“They looked just like your father’s.”
That statement got my attention and gave me a little more to go on. My dad had worn size 13 Double E. Mom’s feet were less than half that size. Factoring in the drifting snow, we must be dealing with one large individual.
“I know this might sound weird, but when I first saw the footprints, I thought your father had come back to check up on me.”
Having no idea how to respond, I remained silent.
“But then, I noticed some of the tracks led out to my potting shed. You know as well I do that you’re father would never want to have anything to do with my gardening. Then I heard that awful sound coming from the shed. It’s just more than I can bear. What should I do?”
“Mom, lock the doors and sit tight. I’m on my way,” I said, unable to shake off the uneasy feeling that had overtaken me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After relaying my conversation with Mom to the Captain and Sam, it didn’t take long for him to decide he needed to take his investigation on the road.
The lake house was in the next county over. Captain Allen said he’d contact the authorities there with the specifics of what had been reported.
Since it was more than obvious who Sam wanted to ride with, and that wasn’t me, I thought I’d get a head start. At least I could try to calm my mother’s nerves before anyone arrived on the scene. So, I threw an overnight bag into the Escalade, in case it seemed too dangerous for her to stay alone, and hit the road.
Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, I mulled over the crazy ass events of the day.
Mom still didn’t know about the stiff we’d discovered at the farm. I’d hoped to be able to talk to her about it face-to-face, just the two of us. I’d also hoped to know a whole lot more about what exactly had happened before having to tell her, but it didn’t appear that things were playing out that way. So much for wishful thinking.
What a pickle. Things certainly weren’t looking so great for me or for Sam either.
Sam. Samantha. Whatever. She’d always be Sam to me.
Speaking of Sam, what the hell kind of angle was she working on with this Captain? I’d known her long enough to know that she was up to something. Whatever it was, I just hoped she knew what she was doing. Given the precarious nature of our situation, there didn’t seem to be much room for error.
I’d made the forty-five minute drive along the winding river road to the lake house a hundred times before. It was a trip that had always calmed my nerves in the past.
On summer nights, it gave the comforting illusion of passing through a narrow tunnel with green walls. But under the cold light of February stars, those once lush walls were replaced by skeletal branches that seemed to be reaching out over the snow-covered path to snatch up unsuspecting passersby.
I tigh
tened my grip on the steering wheel.
Sometimes, having a writer’s imagination isn’t necessarily a good thing.
As I neared the long lane leading to the lake house, I snapped back into reality.
I checked my rear-view mirror and noticed the Captain and Sam closing in fast in his Department SUV. So much for my head start. What is it about these law enforcement guys? Did every one of them have to drive as if they were in hot pursuit? I certainly wasn’t a criminal on the loose.
Okay. That probably wasn’t a good example at this point, seeing as I was the prime suspect in a murder investigation.
As I pulled into the curved lane, I noticed a set of tire tracks only partially blown over by the previous night’s snowstorm.
Someone could have parked there, and due to the thick woods, my mom would not have been able to see their vehicle from the house.
It might mean nothing, but I hoped the tracks could be used to help get to the bottom of the shit storm that had descended upon us.
This was all just so unbelievable. Damn! Was this really happening? I’d much rather keep this kind of stuff in my books and out of my personal life.
And here I thought I’d always done a great job of capturing my characters emotions on my pages, but I realized I hadn’t a clue about the raw tension that comes with actually being in the middle of the real thing. A pit of the stomach angst was twisting every bit of gut I had.
As the Captain pulled in behind me, I threw the Escalade into park and got out to get a better look at the tracks.
The Captain stayed in his SUV and rolled down his window. “What do you think?” I asked.
He took a moment to answer, which made me even more nervous.
“I’d say those are most likely from a large truck or SUV. Probably a four-wheel drive. Whatever you do, don’t step any closer. We’ll need ‘em as intact and preserved as possible.”
He paused and scanned the wooded scene.