Once Upon A Killing (A Gass County Novel Book 2)

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by Lawless, Isabell




  Once Upon A

  Killing

  - A Gass County Novel #2

  Isabell Lawless

  Published in the United States of America,

  Isabell Lawless, 2015

  Acknowledgement

  Thanks to you, dear reader, for picking up this book. You are my primary and most important person and therefore needs to be the very first in line waving your hands for appreciation hugs. To you I am forever grateful.

  Thank you, Linda Kage, for another wonderful book cover. With the illustration you captured the essence of the novel’s main character.

  Ashley Hartman, thank you for your great editing talent of the English language in this book, and many of my other ones as well. Without your talent my books would live a mediocre life.

  My biggest thank you goes out to my family for making my writing a possibility. Love you all very much.

  “Trust is built with consistency.”

  - Lincoln Chafee

  Prologue

  “You don’t have to do this, Mary. Really, I’m not in contact with him anymore. I promise. Please, don’t do this. Please.” Sheer pleading spread in her voice.

  “People don’t have to do certain things, but some take pure pleasure and delight in performing them. And this is my type of act. I’m certainly in favor of this type of deed.” The sharp blade of the kitchen knife scraped along the stone wall, roughing up the thin surface, as she walked slowly down the steps of the stairs Lucy had just fallen; rolled down hard, hitting each and every wooden step like a tumble weed in the breezy Arizona desert, until the stone tile on the bottom floor had risen up and broken her nose, shaken her insides to jelly.

  “You should have stayed away from him all those years. I watched you, you God preaching slut. How you acted around him, how you giggled when he picked you up and had you sit on the back of his black moped, and his early morning steps of shame going down your parents’ wooden porch.” The empty house echoed with creaking wooden floor boards, as Mary’s footsteps descended down the old roughed up steps in a leisurely pace, the sizeable blade held steadily in her small hand, giving away rasp after rasp along the wall.

  “But, you were so little then, Mary.”

  “I wanted him.” She stopped. “And you snatched him away from my hands. Do you know how long I’ve hated you for that? How long I’ve wanted to make you pay for your actions? You’re a slut, Lucy. A dirty, dirty slut. How he could ever be with you, is beyond my imagination.” Five more steps unfolded in front of her feet until she would reach Lucy’s body on the bottom floor.

  “But Mary, please, I’m not the only one who has been with him, and we were not even together for very long. Please, I don’t know why you’re punishing me?” Tumbling down the enormous amount of steps had done vile damage to her head, and she noticed she hadn’t been able to keep a steady head since she’d landed with a thud on the hard floor. Her own two legs seemed more like those of an octopus’s, slithering distressed on the floor unsuccessful in the attempt to move her body somewhere else. An unexpected fire broke through one of her feet still trembling on the bottom step of the staircase, then it spread; calf, above knee, mid-thigh, and no matter how much her arms waved in defense in the glum reality, the intense burn hit the epicenter of her stomach. Through the blurry vision shading her eyes she noticed Mary’s figure taking a step away and up a few steps on the staircase, only to sit back comfortably, leaning her small slender body back against the wooden steps behind her.

  “Is it slippery?” The fuzzy figure asked. “Is that why you’re fumbling?”

  “No, I… I can’t grip it. Mary, help me. Please!”

  “You took a ghastly slam to the head when you landed, Lucy. It must be it. You seem oddly disoriented, and your leg is bleeding red like a newly slaughtered pig. Don’t you know there is a knife sitting in your chest?”

  Grunts filled the space below the last few steps of the staircase. Apart from that, nothing else but the grandfather clock’s tick-tock roamed the space of the house.

  “Although, I’d love to sit here and watch you squeal, I have a man to find, so I’ll leave you alone in your agony. Bon voyage, Lucy. Bon voyage.”

  Chapter One

  “Hey, guys. Long time no see. Good place to ogle some gorgeous women tonight, am I right?”

  His eyes flew to each round female bottom sitting perched up high on the long row of chairs along the full bar next to their booth.

  “Sweet Jesus. Just look at that. Da’amn.”

  “Can’t do so. Goes against everything I work for. If you make one move towards any of those girls I’ll handcuff you and let you rot in the back of my cruiser. Maybe I’ll try out my new taser right there where that vein of yours throbs under your skin by your lower neck. Brody, the well built, stiff muscle house and Sheriff of the small town, tilted his glass of amber liquid at one of the girls further down the bar, “I just gave Kerri over there a warning for speeding a few nights ago. She’s still pissed at me, by the looks she’s throwing over here.”

  “You made your decision a long time ago, man. Being the long arm of the law in the city definitely has its pitfalls.”

  “It’s in my blood and I’m loving it. Leave it, Wayne.” The cold beer glass briefly touched Brody’s lips before he put it back down on to the table. “But as I said, if you don’t keep that shirt on tonight and behave yourself, at least while I’m around, I will gladly put you in the slammer for tonight and have someone else pick you up there in the morning. Maribel even put a new mattress on the bed in the holding cell, which might actually be better than some random female mattress possibly containing any haphazard mixture of foreign liquids.”

  His last comment made the three faces around the table all twist in disgust.

  “Dude, first of all, that was gross, and secondly, don’t be so fucking pissy. Can’t you just enjoy the gorgeousness of booty in this place tonight? Geez. You need more than a beer to loosen up, Brody.”

  He knew goading him wouldn’t make for a pleasurable evening for anybody and decided to let his wandering eyes steer off the women at the bar. At least some of them. Unless they were sitting really close, and were wearing a thong peeking just slightly above the back of a pair of tight jeans. He decided to focus on the guys around the table instead, at least at this moment.

  Until Brody decided to leave and he could do what he always did best: flirt, maybe touch a little, and if he was lucky, which he usually was… okay, almost always, he’d have someone take him home tonight for some tumble among the bed sheets. Clean ones.

  “Well, cheers guys and thanks for coming out tonight,” Jefferson, tucked into the corner next to Brody raised his tall glass of deep brown ale and waited for the other three scooted into the booth to join him, clinking glass to glass.

  “Let’s get hammered, because I have Raylyn on speed dial tonight. She owes me one from last weekend when she went scrapbooking, leaving me home with Nova for two days.”

  “Wish I had a good looking girl like that. What a rack.”

  “Shut it Wayne, or I’ll use Brody’s cuffs and fucking lock you in the men’s room until someone comes and saves your rotten body.” Jefferson’s eyes alone could have killed him on the spot had he been a cyborg, luckily this wasn’t part of some sci-fi story but the reality of Downer’s Pub in town.

  Bryce kept quiet and had already downed half his glass of beer and motioned for the waitress passing by to get him another one, pronto.

  “Cool it Bryce, we’ve got all night. You don’t have anyone waiting for you at home anymore so enjoy the freedom.” Brody’s voice suddenly hesitated ending the sentence, while
both Jefferson and Wayne looked at each other as if in pain and shook their heads at the Sheriff’s blunt stupidity and downed half of their beers as well. They were all relieved to find the waitress tapping the tip of her pen at the pad of paper in her hand, ready to take their orders breaking the not so amicable feel around the table.

  “A plate of nachos, and load on the jalapenos. Oh, and four more beers, please.” Brody stated firmly in his best police voice to the young waitress chewing away on her visible gum while writing the easy order down in just seconds.

  “You know what, two pitchers of beer for the table instead,” Bryce had suddenly awoken from his slumber in the opposite corner and downed the very last of his glass and sat it down hard on the table, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Okay, got it,” the waitress swung her brown hair over her shoulders and turned to leave the group of men behind her, when Wayne broke the silence and offered to help her carry the weight of the beer filled pitchers from the bar to the table, just to be shot down with a small giggle and pink cheeks.

  “You don’t even know how old she is? Do you have to make a move on everything female?”

  “Oh, Officer Moody, what’s grabbing you by the balls tonight? And by the way, I try to stay clear of female goats; they tend to make funny noises when crowded.”

  Jefferson’s rumbling laugh was covered with a slight cough. He eyed Bryce across the table chewing nervously on his lower lip waiting for those pitchers of beer to arrive back at the table. As quickly as possible.

  “Anyway, to lighten up this evening… oh, and sorry about Claire, Bryce, she’s obviously a bitch and doesn’t deserve you,” Jefferson rumbled. “Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, I have something kinda worth mentioning.”

  The abrupt sight of two large, overflowing beer pitchers cut off the declaration about to come, making the four guys eye the golden brown amber with the same eyes a hungry baby craves a bottle of milk, or a boob. Bryce filled his glass to the brim and downed half of his, again.

  “Um, where was I…”

  “You had something to tell us,” Brody sipped lightly, letting his tongue caress away some of the white foam collecting on his upper lip, just to notice a woman following the movement of his tongue while she was walking by.

  “Bet she could loosen up that spring you’ve churned tight back there. Nice ass too.”

  Brody gave him a hard kick on his chin and a stern look. “Shut it, Wayne, and let Jefferson finish.”

  “Yes, sir,” Wayne saluted him resulting in yet another kick under the table.

  “So, the business is going really well right now, and I was able to sell mom and dad’s house this weekend. Finally.”

  “That’s actually awesome, man. Congrats!” Wayne and Brody cheered while Bryce simply grunted and nodded in Jefferson’s direction.

  “I know, right? And I’m not sure why this last weekend turned out so damn special, because as we all know, I’m never in the favor of luck.” They gave a united nod in agreement. “But I also managed to get mom a place at the Holliander Senior Palace…” The guys all hummed in agreement of his sudden success, happy things were falling into place for his mom, and dug into the nachos one hand at a time “…and to get Raylyn pregnant.”

  The three large hands picking at the plate of nachos stopped as soon as the sentence ended, and Jefferson smiled into his beer and took another sip, pleased with his victorious week and waited for a response.

  “I knew it. I fucking knew it.” Wayne was the first one to talk, or even make a move away from the nachos. “When you guys couldn’t make it to the bar crawl just a few weeks ago, and the fact that you’ve opened your front door with a post-coital hairdo every. single. time I’ve come over, I knew it would happen. Well, congratulations on becoming a father of two in less than a year. To Jeff and Rayray.”

  Brody punched Jeff’s shoulder, making him swing against the side of the booth from the impact. Brody rarely had to say anything, a simple move like that showed enough of his emotions. Even Bryce perked up for a slight second and clinked his glass with the other three before going back into the state of moodiness, downing the last of his second glass of beer. He filled up his third.

  “I’m so happy you told us this before Bryce dunks under the table and forgets we’re even here,” Brody sternly held Bryce’s gaze.

  “Oh, shove it, Brody. Remember you’re off-duty tonight and we all agree you need to get shit-faced.”

  Brody looked around the table, having the other two nod in agreement.

  “I know two of the girls at the back of that bar that would gladly take you home and loosen you up,” Wayne tried to help, unsuccessfully.

  “If you already know them, I will most definitely stay away from them. You probably scarred them for life. How can you even be a paramedic, helping people, when your mind is probably screaming for sex every time a woman walks too close to you?”

  “Hey! I take my job just as seriously as you take yours, Brody. Just because I like women… alright, I looove women, which you should do more of by the way, doesn’t mean I don’t take my job in helping people who are hurt very, very seriously.”

  “Can we just stop fighting for a minute and enjoy the beer and the food. I’m not in the mood for anymore fighting.”

  Bryce shoved Wayne’s hand out of the way to get a large stack of nachos, melting over with yellow delicious cheese, then turned his slowly disintegrating interest back to Jefferson, sitting quietly, relaxing with his head back on the soft fabric of the booth.

  “From a guy who thought he had his life planned out, and was going to get married soon, and perhaps have his own babies, how did you know she was pregnant? Taking all those tests and stuff?”

  “Shouldn’t you already know these things being an EMT and all?” Jefferson teased and smiled at his friend.

  “Obviously I don’t know shit, so why don’t you just tell me.”

  “I knew it way before she did, way before she took any pregnancy test. Now, I know and appreciate my girl’s love for desserts and all things sweet, but when the amount of chocolate brought home from the store increased immensely, well that was my first clue. She just said she had a craving for it, like usual. ‘But not to that extent,’ was my first thought.”

  They nodded in agreement of his astute perception.

  “And… the crying. Oh, my god, what is up with women and their crying? Jesus.”

  He got nothing back from the other guys on that one.

  “I wouldn’t know,” Brody answered and wiped his gooey fingers on one of the napkins he’d stacked underneath his utensils.

  “Of course you wouldn’t,” Wayne poked fun at his friend’s cluelessness. “But get that stick out of your ass, sleep with someone, and you might be seeing some tears. At least once a month, if you know what I mean.”

  “Stop it, guys. I’m here to relax from stupid arguments. I love Raylyn to death, but my god, if she could just stop the crying it would be close to fantastic. I keep telling myself it will just be for a few months out of our whole life, so I shouldn’t complain. Just glad I’m not the one having a body made out of racing, raging hormones controlling my life. I couldn’t stand being teary-eyed because Harold’s ran out of salty trail mix, or a movie not ending the way I wanted it to, or not being able to stand the wonderful smell of crispy fried bacon.”

  “So for our next get-together, no meat?”

  “I’m guessing she’ll be a vegetarian until the baby comes. Maybe. I only know that I’m not allowed to fry meat inside the house. Currently she has the nose of a blood hound.”

  “Hello, gentlemen. How are you men doing tonight?” Old Mrs. Taylor from the same neighborhood as Wayne’s mother walked by the booth slowly, leaning heavily on her cane, taking in the smile from each and every one of the men around the table.

  “How’s that leg of yours doing, ma’am?” Wayne leaned out from the seat, touching the woman’s knee. “Pretty bad fall you took there last week. Knee alright?”r />
  A hot wave flashed over the woman’s cheeks and she fanned her face vigorously with her hand.

  “Oh, I’ll be alright dear. You take care now, and don’t let Bryce over there fall under the table, or I’ll tell his mother. But if so, at least we have you here Wayne, an EMT and all. And you, Brody. Thank God for you,” She brushed her hand lightly over Brody’s shoulder, grabbed the cane, and wobbled slowly over to the end of the bar where a bachelorette party was slowly forming.

  “When are you leaving, Brody?” Wayne asked.

  “Why? You need to get laid right now?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Can you at least let me finish my beer and for the love of god, you better make sure she’s not wasted.”

  A few minutes passed by, fingers groped around in the nachos some more, beers were emptied and refilled, then refilled once again, and again. Finally Brody motioned for his bill, prompting Jefferson to pull out his phone, on somewhat wobbly hands, holding it close to his face to see the screen and make the call.

  “Yep, we are done here, babe.”

  Chapter Two

  A mere fifteen minutes later, Raylyn’s blonde locks could be seen moving through the crowded bar, which had ended up more alive than when they’d arrived, just to be greeted with four very wide smiles as she reached the table.

  “Hi, are you guys alright? You all look like you’re part of a Colgate commercial, and you’re freaking me out. Stop with the weirdness.”

  That didn’t do anything, until Jefferson burped, excused himself and let her know he’d told them of how much she hated his inside meat frying, her love for chocolate, and that he was totally fine with the amount of candy stored in the house at the moment.

  “Oh, you told them, didn’t you? That beer is like truth serum. It has magical powers over you guys.”

  “Only if you… hold on…” A long burp escaped Bryce’s lips as well, before he leaned back and downed his fifth, no sixth, glass of golden liquid. “Only if you have these many.” Without taking his forehead away from resting in his hand he held up his other hand, counting each finger until he reached five, then held out his pinky on the other. Counting it to, yeah, six beers.

 

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