by T. L. Hart
“No.” I wasn’t as sure as I sounded. “He’s a coward. Only tries to kill women when no one is around. He’s gone for now.”
“Okay ma’am. I’m going to get my shotgun out of the truck anyway, just for insurance. And my cell phone.” He turned toward the truck.
“You aren’t leaving us here?” I needed reassurance, even from a stranger who had a shotgun in his truck. “You’re coming back?”
“I’ll only be a minute. I promise.” He gave me a thumbs-up. “My name’s Howie—yell out if you need me sooner.”
Suddenly I was afraid, much more afraid than I had been during the heat of the battle. My knees were shaking so much I staggered backward, tumbling to the ground and taking Jo with me. Much to my disgust I started sobbing. So much for being a pistol-packing, badass mama. I held Jo and boo-hooed like a scared little girl.
Chapter Forty-Six
I managed to stop crying and was able to walk without my legs turning to jelly by the time the police arrived. The Beamer was surrounded by a sea of red and blue blinking lights where seven marked cars from at least three of the towns around Cedar Creek had converged. “Gunshots fired” was hardly the kind of thing the locals were used to, so it was no big surprise to find that we were quite a hit.
Our statements were taken. I noticed Jo had the highest policeman-to-victim ratio, in case anyone was counting. It could have had something to do with the fact that I had on jeans and a baseball shirt while the belle of the ball was wearing a mint-green Juicy Couture sweat suit and a teeny tank top that clearly had never been near a gym. Next time I’m involved in a shooting incident, I am for sure going to do a wardrobe check beforehand.
My gun was checked and my registration cleared. Photographs of the car from every angle were snapped, and there was a prolonged argument between two police chiefs over whether the car should be impounded as evidence and if so, where and by which town. I wanted to drive it back to the lake house, but that idea was shot down when one officer, with amazing efficiency and for God knows what reason, spotted a suspicious device while looking under the back bumper of the car with a big flashlight.
“Ms. Strickland.” The officer was using what was still, unfortunately, my legal name. “Do you have any idea why there would be a GPS tracking device on your car?”
“I have On-Star security. Could it be part of that?” Like I know anything about tracking systems. I tried to be helpful. “Anti-theft or something?”
“No, this isn’t anything factory. Looks like someone might be following you.”
“My ex-husband.” Jo walked up and addressed the issue. “My ex has been stalking us. You can call the Dallas Police Department and talk to them. We’ve been getting threatening phone calls and our apartment was vandalized and a death threat was painted on our door. That’s why we drove all the way out here. We wanted to be safe.”
The officer eyed Jo, running his gaze from her sleek black hair to her toes and all the curvy areas in between, obviously liking what he saw. She stepped closer to me and put her hand through the crook of my arm, leaving no doubt of her intentions. Patrolman Pete didn’t seem nearly so approving after that.
“We’ll put in a call on that, Miss.” He looked down at her driver’s license that he had clipped with mine to his notebook. “Miss Keesling?”
Jo nodded.
“This ex-husband of yours has a name?”
“Max Sealy.” She rolled her eyes as he did the usual double take. “Yes, that Max Sealy. We did tell you the windows were smashed with a baseball bat, didn’t we?”
“I believe I have that in my notes.” He was coolly polite, maybe more a fan of baseball than ex-wives and their lady friends. “If you ladies would like to have a seat in one of the cruisers, I do need a few minutes to check on this.”
We declined his offer. Tired as we were, the notion of sitting in the backseat of a police car on a dark country road was a little too much like a bad episode of one of those television shows that made me nervous. Besides, I wanted to talk to Jo for a minute, alone.
“Jo,” I began, trying to have a neutral tone. “I think you have to at least entertain the possibility that someone besides Max could be doing these things. We can’t keep throwing him to the cops every time something weird happens.”
“You’re taking up for my ex-husband? Did you get another bump on the head awhile ago?”
“No. But there could be people in my past I haven’t remembered yet. People who had a grudge against me or something.”
I didn’t want to come right out and confess my sins. I wasn’t exactly proud of being a criminal, no matter how justified I felt at the time. Jo didn’t know I was on the run from the Sheriff of Nottingham by way of Texas.
“I still want them to keep an eye on Max,” she snapped. “It’s not like we have a long list of suspects.”
“I wasn’t ruling him out, honey. Just trying to cover all the bases.” Her eyes cut to me, sparking green fire in the reflected lights. “No baseball pun intended,” I said. “Honest slip of the tongue.”
Howie was still standing at the edge of all the hoopla, so we went over to talk to him. He was like a kid at the country fair, wide-eyed and eager to join the carnies.
“Man, I’ve never seen this much excitement or this many cops in one place since the shootout with the Branch Davidians over in Waco.” He was only half-kidding. “Probably some reporters on the way by now.”
“Oh goodie. I always wanted to have my face plastered on the ten o’clock news.” I was exhausted and my patience was running out. “They’re going to tow the car. Any chance you could give us a lift to our house? It’s only a few miles from here.
“We’d be happy to pay you for your time,” I added, not wanting to ask any favors. “Fill the truck up as a thank-you.”
“Acourse I’ll take y’all home. I’ll see if they’ll let me get your bags and stuff.” He motioned to the policemen still milling around the car. “And just so you know,” he added with a shy grin, “neighbors don’t take money for helping each other out. Y’all are welcome to a ride.”
The police officer approached us, a grim expression on his stoic face.
“I talked to the Dallas department. Something strange is happening.”
He was hesitating to tell us more. I took that as a bad sign.
“They confirmed your story. Furthermore…” He cleared his throat. Definitely a bad sign. “Earlier today two officers went to Mr. Sealy’s house to ask him a few questions about the incident involving the vandalization at your apartment. His housekeeper let them in, but when she went to the study to tell him the officers were there, it was discovered he had left out the back entrance, leaving the garage open. He was driving a black SUV.”
“So he followed us here?” Jo was angry more than frightened. “I told them it was Max. I told them from the beginning.” She glared at me. “I told everyone. If anyone had listened to me, he would have been in jail months ago and none of this would be happening.”
“Try to stay calm, ma’am. We have an all points bulletin out for him and the vehicle,” the officer said. “This is a small community. I doubt he’ll stick around and wait to be apprehended. We will run cars by your place every hour until he’s picked up.”
“We’re expecting a friend to be coming in a couple of hours.” I thought of how pissed Aggie was going to be. She had been bragging about what a good shot I turned out to be. “I don’t need her to be busted by a posse when she comes in. I’ll give her a call so she will know what’s going on.”
“Unless she’s driving a black SUV, she won’t have anything to worry about,” he said. “I’ll give the patrol the word she’s coming so they won’t be all over a car pulling in that late.”
“Thanks Officer.”
By the time we walked back to the car, the flashing lights were down to two cars and a tow truck. Howie was carting the last of our shopping bags and assorted junk to his truck.
We got our licenses and Jo’s purse
from the patrolmen. The last item returned was my gun. I tucked it into my bag, wishing I had at least winged him. Winged him? Good Lord, I was starting to sound like a detective show cop myself. Maybe after all this was over, I could see if there was an opening on the force in Gun Barrel City.
Chapter Forty-Seven
We didn’t get back to the lake house until after eleven. Howie unloaded everything for us and said he’d drop by to check on us in a day or two. The young man renewed my faith in humanity. He had been brave in the face of uncertainty and danger and wanted absolutely nothing in return. If he hadn’t stopped and helped us, I’d probably still be sitting on the shoulder of the road blubbering.
Jo went upstairs to take a hot bubble bath while I got my courage up to call Aggie and fill her in on the evening. I poured us each a large glass of strong red wine; I figured we deserved it. Jo told me to bring her a refill when I got finished talking so she could get a good night’s sleep.
Aggie answered her cell phone on the second ring. I could hear a party in the background, laughing and loud.
“Isn’t Granny too old to be up this late?” I asked.
“Granny is the last to go down,” Aggie said. “She’s unwrapped a king’s ransom in presents and eaten enough rich food to kill a woman half her age. Somebody brought tiramisu and she’s decided it’s better than banana pudding. I’m not telling her about the liqueur the ladyfingers are soaked in.”
“Y’all are so going to go to hell for getting your dear old grandma drunk. What would Jesus say to that?”
“You ask him,” Aggie laughed. “You’re the one who does all that ‘I’m here—I’m dead—no, I’m here again’ stuff.”
“You can get stuffed,” I said. “Your granny is going to kick your butt if she wakes up with a hangover tomorrow.”
“Don’t I know it. She’s a handful.”
“And you couldn’t be prouder of her.”
“No way. She’s a rock.” Aggie cut to the chase. “Now stop buttering me up asking about my grandma and tell me what’s wrong. Somethin’s up, so spill it. Don’t try to lie to me either. I can always hear it in your voice.”
“I haven’t tried to lie yet, so don’t start intimidating me.”
So I gave her the short version or the version that would have been short without all her interruptions. When I got to the part about whipping out my gun, she lost it completely.
“I knew I shouldn’t have let you two go on your own. Shit fire, are you sure it’s safe until I get there?” When Ag’s cursing got creative, I knew I was in for it. “My stuff is already in the Jeep. I’m going to kiss Granny goodnight, then I’ll be on my way. I should be there in a couple of hours.”
“You need me to tell you how to get here? It’s kind of out in the middle of nowhere.”
“Nope. I already ran a map on the computer earlier today.”
“Organized as always,” I said. “Aggie, the police know you’re coming, so they’ll be looking for the Jeep. I’ll set the guest code for the garage door keypad, so you can let yourself in. I’ll use the same numbers as the Outreach code. We’re both fried, so we may be asleep already. Just drive around the back. If you hit the water, you’ve gone too far.”
“Funny. Try to get some rest. You know I’m gonna wake you up when I get there.”
“I’m counting on it. Drive safe.”
I set the code for the garage and checked to make sure all the doors were locked. There was a large oval window at the top of the stairway that had a full-on view of the pier and lake. In the darkness, the lake was an inky black, lit intermittently by a full moon breaking through scuttling clouds.
A layer of white mist was rising out over the lake, as ghostly and eerie as the fog I used to have in my dreams. I hadn’t had any of those dreams since Jo and I were back together, but I was strangely happy to see it rolling in. In fact, I was drawn to it as if it were calling me, rolling me in the blanket it was throwing over the lake.
I watched for a while as it thickened, getting so dense the lake and the moon were completely enveloped in the whiteness. My hands were against the window, and the fog came right up to me, welcoming me, hiding me from the world. I wished, foolishly, that I had something to give back to send a thank you to Jennifer who stayed in the mist and gave me a chance to be here in the world with Jo.
“Thanks, Jennifer,” I said, knowing how corny it would seem to anyone else and not giving a fig. “I owe you.”
The sound of my own voice whispering to ghosts in the night nudged me back toward reality. I left the window and turned my back on the fog. My real life, my real partner was waiting.
In fact, waiting very quietly. I figured Jo had tired of waiting and gone to sleep. She was able to sleep through a cyclone. I could see the light from the bedroom shining into the hallway. I tiptoed in, just in case she was asleep.
And sure enough, she was. Sleeping like a baby angel, one arm thrown up over her head, the other tucked under her cheek. Her hair was damp and she smelled like Coco. I thought about the past misdeeds that Himself had implied about my angel as I listened to the faint rhythm of her breathing.
Maybe he was right—him and all his spooks. Maybe my girl had a touch of gold digger—so be it. Thanks to Jennifer, I had enough gold to keep her occupied for a very long time and she could have a jeweled shovel if she wanted it. After the things I was learning about my own past, I didn’t have much room to get all holier-than-thou over a greedy streak.
No matter why she was attracted to me in the first place, I think I got the sweet end of the deal. I sipped my wine and watched her for a few minutes, thanking all the gods and goddesses for the second chance we had been granted.
As I knew better than most, life was not quite the straight shot between the cradle and the grave that I’d always thought it was. I was here now and I was going to enjoy the ride. I believed in what Jo and I had; if it changed tomorrow, I’d deal with it then.
I tried to be very careful when I moved my things from where they were sitting on the foot of the bed. My shoulder bag was heavy when I lifted it, the weight reminding me to take the gun and ammo out and put them in the drawer at my side of the bed. Annie Oakley, my ass. More like Barney Fife.
I was still grinning when I got to the bathroom. I took a fast shower and put on the oversized T-shirt I liked to sleep in. My head barely touched the pillow before I was asleep. I wanted to stay up and wait for Aggie, but I was so tired I decided I would sleep for a few minutes.
I woke at the sound of movement downstairs. Aggie had never been known for sneaking in quietly. She was a lead-footed clod except on the basketball court, where she morphed into a gazelle.
Glancing over to check on Jo, still sleeping soundly, I rubbed my eyes and yawned. No reason to wake her. I padded barefoot across the carpet and eased the door shut behind me.
Carefully I started toward the stairs, navigating in the darkness. I fumbled for the hall light switch and flipped it on. Standing on the landing with the foggy sky behind him was a tall masked man holding a baseball bat, watching me and grinning.
Chapter Forty-Eight
I can’t tell you how chilling that smile was—even white teeth showing in a ghoulish grimace through the black-rimmed slit around the mouth of the red mask. This night was fast turning into a Stephen King movie, and as much as I love his books, the movies never quite turned out the way I wanted them to.
Maybe this is all a dream, I thought; maybe I’m still in bed cuddled next to Jo and having a flashback because of the horrible attack earlier. I closed my eyes and prayed, but when I opened them, my nightmare was still standing there.
“Hello Jennifer.”
The fabric of the mask muffled the voice, but there was something so frightening and familiar about it that I thought I was going to gag and throw up from the knot of fear closing my throat. It was the voice of death and it had come for me again.
Maybe there was an immutability about fate. I had cheated it once, struck a deal and
came back, but here it was again—my nemesis returned to take me out the same way with the same weapon. And Jo once again unaware, left to wake and go through it again. Please let her wake again, I prayed, hoping there was a god above to listen. Don’t let him kill her too this time.
“Nothing to say? It’s not like you to be so quiet.” He spoke in a ragged half-whisper, like an actor on stage projecting to the balcony. “What’s the matter—cat got your tongue? Or should I say pussy got your tongue?” His laugh was mocking and meant to intimidate.
“You’re a filthy coward.” I stage-whispered too, hoping not to disturb Jo and have her walk in on this. “I wish I had blown your brains out earlier tonight. That is, assuming you have a brain.”
“Sticks and stones, Jennifer.” He shifted the bat, moving it to rest on his shoulder. “You aren’t in any position to be acting like such a bitch. That’s no way to treat a guest.”
“How did you get in here?” I knew I set the alarm. The only one who had the code was Aggie. “Where’s Aggie?”
“I would guess that would be the big black Amazon driving the Jeep.” He hefted the bat, pointing out a smear of bright scarlet on one side. “I’m afraid your friend had a little accident. And after she was nice enough to let me slip in behind her when she drove into the garage. So sad.”
Please, God—not Aggie.
“Just tell me she’s alive. It’s not too late, if she’s still alive. You can leave and get away. Just let me call an ambulance.”
“It’s too late,” he whispered more quietly than before. “I’m afraid poor Aggie can’t join us. You may be joining her soon though. Very soon.”
“Don’t be stupid, Max,” I entreated. In all the movies I’d ever seen with lunatic killers the intended victims kept them talking. I didn’t have a better plan, so I talked on. “This is a stupid thing to do. You’ll never get away with it. The police are already looking for you.”
“I’m counting on that.” He smiled and caressed the bat in a casual gesture. It reminded me of something, but my brain was so full of fear hormones I couldn’t pin it down. “Everything is moving according to plan.”