Penance (Oak Grove Suspense Book 2)

by Reese A. Stephens

  “I’m going home. I don’t feel much like drinking anymore.” I stand, a little wobbly, but not bad enough that I can’t make it home.

  “I’ll take you. Darren, watch the counter while I take Jud home.” Darren nods at her and she hurries around the bar to me.

  “You don’t need to take me home. I’m fine to walk.”

  I stumble a little; she grabs my arm and wraps it around her shoulder. She’s about six inches shorter than me, so it’s a little awkward, but I don’t fight her. I know she’s right, I do need help. I should have stopped while I was ahead, but that bottle sat there and tempted me. So I helped myself, like a fool. We walk out into the night and she leads me over to her car, helping me inside before she jogs around to the driver’s door.

  “You know, you could talk about your problems instead of drinking them away.”

  “Not tonight. I don’t need another lecture from you.” I lean my head against the seat and close my eyes, praying she’ll drop it, but in true Laney fashion she doesn’t.

  “You need a lecture. You need someone to finally get through your head that you’re not alone. Judson, there are so many people who love and care about you. We only want you to be happy again.”

  “I can’t be happy.”

  “Why?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Nothing will change what’s happened.” I let my head roll to the side and stare out the window.

  “It won't change what happened, but getting it off your chest might help you feel lighter. I hate seeing you like this, Jud. You’re a great guy with tons of talent. I’d hate to see you wither away because of this.”

  I should talk to someone about it, but I can’t. “You’re probably right.” I leave it at that.

  She squeezes my hand. “When you feel like you want to talk about it, I’m here for you. I won’t judge, I’ll just listen.”

  I flip my hand over and return the squeeze. She’s a great friend. I wish I could be one in return. “Thank you. That means a lot and thanks for the lift. I’ll see you around.” I get out of her car, a little more sober than when I got in, and make my way into my house. I flop on the sofa and let my eyes drift closed. Sleep is probably the best thing for me now.

  Four Years Post Fire

  I still drink, but mostly at my house now. It’s probably better that way; I’m not a burden to anyone else. I haven’t slept in two days because I’ve been working on tables for Holts and Smith. I finished all the pieces for the original job years ago, but these are a special order for a new home they’ve just acquired. They are fairly simple in their design, but they are time consuming to piece together. I cut all my own wood for these projects, so it’s not like I can run to the local hardware store and get wood. If it’s not something I can get from my land, I order it from a company that specializes in wood for furniture.

  I’m not sure why today is harder than the past few days, but I find myself zoning out as I work. I’ve been remembering different things from the past, like Jayden learning to ride his bike, or Josie climbing up on my work bench as I sand down wood for a project; Shannon making my favorite meal of grilled steak and baked sweet potatoes, then serving it at our picnic table outside. I see their smiling faces, then out of nowhere those smiles turn to screams of despair in the fire. I see them burning. I see them calling out to me for help. There’s nothing I can do. There’s never anything I can do. I watch my family burn to death and suffer in agony over and over, and nothing I do will stop the images from flashing in my mind. The only thing I can do to stop them is drink.

  I show up at the bar on a Friday night. I just felt like getting out of my house for a while. It’s crowded. There’s not only folks here to drink, but there’s people here for a good meal as well. Mooney’s has great food, all fresh and local; it brings in the crowds, especially on the weekends. I try to avoid the bar on the weekends for this reason, but I’m out of liquor and the closest store is forty-five minutes away, so I take the easy way and go to Mooney’s.

  “Hey, haven’t seen you in a while. I thought maybe you quit drinking.” Laney holds up a bottle of my usual whiskey and I nod my head. She sits the glass in front of me.

  I snort, mostly in disgust for myself. “I don’t think that’ll happen anytime soon.”

  “Well, I’m here for you. Don’t forget that.”

  She moves on to help other customers. I notice her talking to a man at the end of the bar that might be her brother. I can’t really see his face to be sure. It’s been so long since I’ve seen Ryan. He looks completely different than the teenaged Ryan I knew. This man is at least two or three inches taller, broad and muscular, with tattoos, and long hair. It doesn’t seem to fit the noble image I have of a war hero and ex-FBI agent. But look at me, I don’t think anyone would picture my Grizzly Adams persona with what they knew of me in high school either. As they approach, I know its Ryan.

  “Jud!” Ryan reaches out his hand and shakes mine. “Long time, man. I’m sorry to hear about your family.” I nod, I never know what to say. “We should get together sometime.”

  “I don’t know if I’d be good company to keep. I pretty much keep to myself these days.”

  “All the more reason to come over to my house. We’re having a cook out Sunday, you should come. My brothers would love to see you again.”

  “Maybe.”

  “It’s good seeing you. I should get back to my hot date.” He turns and waves to Shayla. She stands and comes over. “Babe, you remember Judson Hardenbergh, right?”

  “Of course, I do. Hey, Jud.”

  “Hey, Shay. It was good seeing you both. I’ll let you know about the cook out. I should get going.” I motion to the door behind me. Coming here tonight was a mistake.

  “Yeah, let me know. Laney has my number.”

  We shake hands and they return to their table. I head towards the bathrooms and out the back door, liquor bottle in hand. I sit on an over-turned crate and drink. I’m not out there for five minutes before Laney’s feet appear in my line of sight. I don’t look up.

  “You don’t need to do this, Juddy.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  She bends down in front of me. “Hey, please talk to me.”

  I shake my head. “You don’t want to know the horrors in here.” I point to my head and take a swig out of my bottle.

  “I want to help you.” She wraps her warm hand around mine. I stare at it; it feels nice. Even that simple friendly touch is more than I deserve. I shake her off.

  “There’s no help for me, Alaina. Just leave me alone.” I stand up, accidentally knocking her on her butt. “Sorry,” I mumble as I stumble off down the alley.

  I’m almost to the parking lot out front when I hear the most annoying voice in the world. Ralph Clark steps out of the shadows, drunker than I am. “You don’t deserve her affections. She should be mine. I’ve been coming around here for years. She’s never once offered to help me.” He shoves me; I shove him back.

  “Leave me alone, Ralph.” He comes at me again and I barely deflect him. It shouldn’t be this hard, but I’m drunk and he’s drunk.

  “I’ll leave you alone when you stop coming around. You’ve ruined my life enough already,” he screams as he charges me again.

  This time he knocks me into the dumpster, making me drop my bottle and breaking it. I see red. I charge at him, knocking him down then punching him in the face several times, before someone grabs me from behind, trying to pull me off.

  “Come on, Jud. He isn’t worth a night in jail.” It’s Ryan. He pulls me off even though I’m fighting him to get back at Ralph.

  Shayla and Laney are checking him over to be sure he’s fine. I see Shayla, pulling out a stethoscope from her bag. After a few minutes, she declares him to be fine. Guess that’s good.

  “You cool?” Ryan asks me as I go limp in his arms.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “I want to press charges,” Ralph spits. I huff, but say nothing.

  “Jud didn�
��t start this, you did. I have security cameras out here to prove that. You still want to press those charges, Ralph?” Laney asks. He shakes his head no and walks away.

  He turns back after he’s away from the group of us and says, “It’s a good thing your family died in that fire, you’re a sorry excuse for a man. I bet Shannon would love seeing you like this.”

  Growling, I jump up and charge at him. No one will disgrace the memory of my family. No one, I mean, absolutely no one. I shove him hard, and he falls back on to the concrete. Unfortunately, before I can land another blow, Ryan has me on my stomach with my arm twisted behind my back.

  “Get out of here, Ralph, before I haul you in,” Ryan shouts at him.

  Ralph gets up, mumbling under his breath as he walks away. Ryan turns to me. “You good?”

  “I guess.” He helps me up.

  “I can take you home,” he offers.

  I shake my head. “No, I can walk. I need to clear my head anyway.”

  “No. I’m driving you. It’s late and you’re drunk. I’m not taking no for an answer, Judson,” Laney says indignant.

  She grabs my arm and tugs me towards her car. She infuriates me, but for some reason, I let her push me to her car and into the passenger seat. Once I’m home, I find a bottle of forgotten rum under my kitchen sink and drink it before passing out on my sofa.

  Chapter Six

  Ryan

  “Chief, you have a call on line two,” May reports over the intercom.

  It’s still odd to me, even over a year later, that I’m Chief of the Oak Grove Police Department. After Shayla and Dylan’s kidnapping, the Chief admitted he was wrong in taking me off the case and making things harder for me. He retired three months later when I came back to work. I had taken some time off with Shayla and our son, Dylan, to help them recover from the brutal attacks from Jason Mathis and Trevor Daniels. Daniels met his demise, but Mathis was able to slip away, with some forced help from Shayla. I was sworn in as chief the same day the old chief retired. It’s been a great job so far, even if things have been a little slow. And after what we’ve been through, slow is welcomed wholeheartedly.

  “Jacobs,” I answer.

  “It’s Tom. Riley just called. Mathis has been spotted in Maine.”

  Tom Thorn, Shayla’s father, and I have been keeping tabs on Jason Mathis, a.k.a. The Fox, since we lost him on our rescue mission to save Shayla and Dylan. Actually, over the past week we’ve amped up our search parameter and efforts, since Shayla and I found a package with his signature fox inside, after one of our date nights. Unfortunately, he’s evaded every attempt to capture him and has spent the majority of his time in countries without extradition laws. This is the first sighting of him in the states in over a year. Even with him leaving the fox for us, we couldn’t be sure it was him.

  “Did we deploy men?” I ask.

  “Yes, but he gave them the slip.” Tom says and I curse under my breath. “They’ll keep an eye out, but the fact that we know he’s in the states is good. Hopefully, we can catch him before he comes after you or the family again.”

  “We will. I don’t want him anywhere near us again.”

  We chat for a few minutes about plans to be made and agree to meet back at my house tonight after dinner to discuss everything in detail. We have a secret command center of sorts set up in my home office. Riley and Howard, from the team who helped rescue Shayla and Dylan, have decked it out with every electronic imaginable. I can access almost anything, and because of Tom’s CIA connections, we’ve been able to trace Mathis through Interpol and across the world. Even though there’s nothing we can do right now, at least we know where he is, or was.

  “We’ll get him, Ryan. He’s getting sloppy. This is the second sighting in a month.”

  “Any deaths?”

  “None reported, thankfully.”

  “Good. I’ll see you back at the house. I’m taking Shay out to dinner, so let’s say we meet about nine.”

  “Gail is watching half pint, so I’ll head over and get started.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you later.”

  After we disconnect the call, I busy myself with my normal day-to-day tasks, trying to forget about Mathis for the time being. It does me no good. I won’t be able to relax until he’s six-feet under. Nothing short of that will ease my mind. Almost two years ago, my life was completely and irrevocably changed when my high school sweetheart, and the mother of my child, moved back to our home town of Oak Grove. Not even six months into their new life here, they were both kidnapped by a psychopath, Trevor Daniels, and my nemesis, Jason Mathis. The latter I put behind bars while I was active in the FBI. Unfortunately, he was released from prison on a technicality, which was later found to be misfiled paper work and tampered evidence by a crooked cop who’d grown up with Mathis and Daniels. He’s behind bars now for his troubles, but Mathis still remains untouchable, as do his lawyers.

  Starting a relationship with my son and ex-girlfriend was as natural as the sun rising in the east. Sure, we had some bumps along the way, but Shayla and I have never been closer or a stronger couple as we are right now. As for Dylan, he is everything I could hope for in a son. He has Shayla’s determination and my killer good looks; he’ll be on top in his life no matter what. Not that I’m biased or anything.

  As everything in life, the bumps along the way make us stronger or ruin us. After their kidnapping, things were a little tough, but Shayla and I were determined to make it work. It definitely wasn’t easy getting there. We had many meltdowns and arguments while going through therapy, both individual, couples, and family. It was cumbersome, but we made it through. To top it all off, we got married and had a precious baby girl. She’s spoiled rotten by all of us, but I can’t find it in me to care. She’s perfect, and we are all stronger and happier today.

  “Hey, stud.” Shayla greets me with a kiss as she climbs into my car.

  “How was work?” I ask as we pull out of the hospital parking lot.

  She sighs. “I had a little panic attack today. I’m fine now though.

  I look over at her and frown. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  She takes my hand, threading our fingers together. “Because I felt silly. I thought I saw Trevor, but that’s impossible, because he’s dead. But I swear that guy looked just like him. Julie helped me to my office. I did my breathing exercises and used my essential oils. I was fine after about twenty minutes. I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “I worry about you all the time. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

  Even something little like this really bothers me. I wasn’t there when she needed me in the past and I feel like now, I should be there for everything. She knows this is how I feel, we’ve been over it in couple’s therapy a million times. It’s my issue, not hers, but I can’t seem to get past it.

  “If it was worse I would have called you, or had Julie call you.”

  “I don’t want you to suffer, especially alone.”

  She leans over and kisses my cheek before I park the car in front of the restaurant. “I wasn’t suffering alone, Julie stayed with me the whole time. I know she’s not you, but I was fine. Really.”

  “Okay. Let’s go get a seat. How weird is it that we’re going on a double date with our son?”

  She giggles. “I know, right. I still see him as a tiny baby. He shouldn’t be an almost grown man with a serious girlfriend.”

  “How serious do you think they are?” We join hands as we reach each other around the car.

  “Oh, my guess is they might get married as soon as college is over.”

  “I worry about how his chosen job profession will affect them.” We stop outside of the restaurant doors.

  “I do too, but we have to let them live their lives. If it’s meant to be, they’ll be. I mean, look at us. We were apart sixteen years and now we’re happier than ever.”

  “We are. I don’t wish that on them though.”

  “Neither do I. Come on, let’s
get our table.”

  We enter the restaurant and find our son already seated with Faith. Dinner goes well. The kids, who aren’t really kids anymore, have made plans and back up plans. I’ve never met two more driven individuals. If anyone will make it, they will.

  Two Weeks Later

  The next couple of weeks go by in a blur. We have no luck on locating Mathis, which worries me to no end. He’s on the east coast, a day or two drive away from us, that is if he’s still in Maine. He could literally be in my backyard right now. The thought not only terrifies me, but causes me not to be able to sleep or eat much at all. Shayla has taken notice, and no matter how many times I tell her I’m fine, she doesn’t believe me. Not that I could blame her. Acting is not my strong suit.

  It’s a Saturday and I’m in my home office. I’ve gone through all the reports and sightings on Mathis, to find a pattern to his travels. There’s none. As far as I can tell, he’s not killed anyone since my nephew, Danny. Danny was a casualty of Jason Mathis during my son and wife’s kidnapping. He was close to Dylan’s age and they looked so much alike that the then chief thought he was Dylan. Mathis used him as a ploy to get at me. It worked to a certain extent, but I don’t think he got the results he was looking for, and is still set on getting me for ‘ruining’ his life. He failed, of course, and left a warning that he’d be back. If he keeps up his current direction, it looks like he’ll be here sooner than I’d like. He hasn’t been in the United States in almost a year and certainly never this close. That can’t be a good sign.

  “Hey, stud. Can you give Han a bath? I need to finish up reviewing some cases for tomorrow.” Shayla pokes her head into my office.

  “Sure, babe. Can you give me five minutes? I need to finish this.” She nods. “We’re still going to Mom’s, right?”

  “Yep, at six.”

  She exhales deeply. “Han really needs a bath and I have to finish reviewing my patient files. I won’t have time tomorrow.”

  “I’ll do it, babe,” I look up to her with a smile. “I just need to save my work and clean up. Five minutes. Promise.”