Meeting Destiny (Destiny Series)

by Nancy Straight

  “Great, so who killed Paul?”

  “Lauren, I don’t know, but I can tell you that we have all our resources trying to answer that question right now. Whoever did it impersonated a police officer in the process; we’ll find him.”

  “Yeah, I was there. He was white, he was short, he was wearing a white button down shirt, driving a grey sedan, he’s left handed, he was wearing a ring and he doesn’t have a local accent. That description should narrow it down to like 30,000 people for you. I was right there, and that’s the best I can give you. How in the hell are you going to find him?”

  “Lauren, did you see his face, or was there anything about him that you maybe forgot last night?”

  I shook my head as if he could see me through the receiver, a tear welled up in my eye. I choked out in a whisper, “No.”

  “Last night you told Detective Dixon that Paul said something to you right before he died. What did he say?”

  “He said something about Ms. McMasters’ barber I think, but it was all garbled, and I couldn’t understand him very well.” Rewsna’s voice came booming through my mind and I heard, “No child, that is not what he conveyed. Think!” Renswa’s voice startled me so badly I nearly dropped the phone.

  “He didn’t say anything else?”

  A little shaken from Renswa’s voice, I could only respond with, “No, that was it, he died right after.”

  Officer Johnson offered words of encouragement and we hung up. This was the first time I’d felt shaken since the shooting. I should have been getting ready for graduation, but I couldn’t think straight. I just wanted to lie down and let the world go by for a little while.

  *****

  I somehow made it through the commencement ceremony that afternoon, and thankfully Mom cancelled my graduation party. She told everyone that I wasn’t feeling well, and although not the result of an illness, her excuse wasn’t any less true. Max was on his hiatus from work, so this would be the opportune time to get away. Sunday morning I sprung on my parents that I was going camping with Max for a few weeks. It was obvious they had little idea what to do with me in my current state, so both thought it was a great idea.

  Max was way more excited about the trip than I was, but I told myself I just needed to get away. As soon as the city was behind, us I could forget about voices, destinies, a friend I hadn’t been able to save, and everything else. We decided to leave Tuesday morning.

  Monday late afternoon after I’d just returned from Paul’s funeral, the phone rang. I picked it up and it was Officer Johnson. “Hi, Lauren, how’re you feeling?”

  I had struggled with this question every time someone asked it. I was alive, something that might not have been possible just three days ago. I was a college graduate, though I had no desire to celebrate. I felt like I was in my own little world and everyone I talked to believed the same. “I’m okay, getting ready to get out of town for a while.”

  “Well, then I’m glad I caught you before your tires hit the pavement. I just wanted you to know in the course of investigating Paul’s murder, we made the assumption that the McMasters’ murders had to be tied to his. We believed the killer thought Paul knew more than he did and was trying to cover his tracks. You once told me you were a huge true crime fan, so what are motives for killing someone? C’mon this is Detective 101 stuff.”

  Not wanting to play along with his game, I remained silent.

  “Okay, it is love, money, impact, or mental illness. Meaning people kill out of passion, kill to receive money or compensation of some kind, or the kill will have a positive impact on the killer in some way. When we got back into the McMasters’ investigation, it was clear that Mrs. McMasters was very heavily insured - three million dollars heavily insured. When you told us that Paul said something about her barber we checked to see who the beneficiaries on her policy were. There wasn’t an individual: her business was the beneficiary. She was a co-owner of a business, and with her death the entire payout goes to her partner.” As Officer Johnson was talking, I heard Paul’s last words echo in my mind, “Not a cop, Mrs. McMasters’ partner.”

  We interviewed him shortly after the double homicide and the subject of an insurance payout never came up. After Paul’s death, we re-interviewed him. We were already aware of the payout, but he denied that he would receive any financial gain from her death. His denial set off warning bells because that was not the case. Once we caught him in the lie, we just dug a little deeper. What kind of car do you suppose he drives?”

  Not wanting to jinx whatever Officer Johnson was about to tell me, I stayed quiet. He was so excited he made a game show noise and announced, “Thank you for playing but too slow, yes he drives a gray Chrysler 300. Things were starting to add up, so we had a search warrant issued for his residence. Where do you suppose his residence is?”

  This time I could feel the excitement from Officer Johnson, knowing he had solved it, so I chimed in, “Let me guess, the apartment building across the street from where the ambulance came?”

  Not even trying to contain his excitement, he yelled, “Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding, very good, Lauren! You mentioned that the unknown suspect was wearing a white button up shirt the night of the shooting. When we executed the search warrant, we found a white button up shirt in the laundry that had gunshot residue and blood on the sleeves.”

  “So he killed Mrs. McMasters for the money. Why did he kill Paul?”

  “Sorry, Lauren, he’s not talking right now. He’s lawyered up, but we think that he was under the impression that Paul had seen him there that morning, and it was only a matter of time before we stopped suspecting Paul for the McMasters’ murders. I guess he thought that if we had Paul as our main suspect, and he turned up dead, we would close the case.” Officer Johnson waited a few seconds and revealed in a more solemn voice, “If you and Paul hadn’t have come by to give his alibi evidence, I’m sorry to say that’s exactly what would have happened.”

  I felt a huge weight lift off of me, “I know in my statement at the hospital I said Paul was talking about Mrs. McMasters’ barber, but that was just because I was in shock. I’m sure that he told me Mrs. McMaster’s partner. Is it too late to amend my statement? I remember hearing something about a ‘dying declaration’ being admitted as evidence.”

  Officer Johnson chuckled into the phone, “If you really believe that, then yes we can amend your statement, but I really don’t think it’s necessary. I didn’t need anything from you. I just wanted you to know that we found Paul’s murderer, so you don’t have to look over your shoulder. It’s over.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  My bags were packed, all two of them. I had a duffle bag with all my shower gear and shoes and a backpack with five changes of clothes. If this wasn’t roughing it, I don’t know what is. Mom and I were sitting on the front porch passing the time, waiting for Max to pick me up. I was still surprised that she hadn’t tried to talk me out of it, and only asked if I had spare batteries along for my cell phone. I caught myself looking at my watch for the fiftieth time. Max should be here in another ten minutes.

  “You remembered to pack plenty of socks, right?”

  Here I was taking off with the most amazing guy in the world, for who knows how long, and the only concern Mom voiced to me was that my cell have a charge and my feet stay warm. I kept from rolling my eyes and answered, “Yes, plenty of socks, and if I forgot anything, I’m sure there are stores in the middle of nowhere, right?”

  Seth half opened his garage door and saw me on the porch. He gave a casual wave then stepped to go back inside. “Hey! You could at least yell goodbye or something!” I bellowed. He stepped out the door, then made his way to my front porch.

  “That’s right, this is the big day. What do you think, Molly? Do you suppose she’ll last two days?” Seth was grinning from one ear to the other.

  Mom gave a very smug smile in return, and it looked like this was some sort of joke that I wasn’t in on. “Oh Seth, anyone can go two days. I bet she make
s it until next Wednesday.”

  “You two have no faith at all in my survival skills, do you?” I was thoroughly offended.

  Seth didn’t let up, “Survival? Well, I imagine you are less likely to take a bullet in the wilderness. Hunting season isn’t going on now, is it? Besides, knowing how protective Max is of you, you’ll be fine.” Mom didn’t even flinch when Seth mentioned Max or bullets.

  It’s amazing how much had changed in such a short period of time. Just a couple weeks ago, I didn’t think my mom would ever get over Seth and me breaking up. I was sure that Seth would hang on just as tightly. When I’m wrong, I am wrong. Since that night of the interview with Amanda, Max and Seth had become almost friends. If not friends, they were definitely friendly with one another. Each time I asked Max for more details on what Seth said to him that night, he told me, “just man stuff,” but whatever it was, it sure made my life easier.

  Max’s black truck pulling a horse trailer drove up across the street, and Mom stood up to give me a quick hug.

  Seth leaned in and told me, “I’ll see you two in a couple days.”

  “No, you won’t!” as I bounded down the steps toward Max. Max left the truck running but came up to the porch to say quick goodbyes to both of them.

  He walked around to the passenger side of the truck, carrying my backpack. He put it in the back seat as I climbed in the front. Max asked, “You’re packing pretty light. You’re not chickening out on me, are you?”

  “You said we were only taking what we could carry on our backs - I’m not a pack mule!”

  Max grinned at me, “No, you are definitely not a pack mule.”

  We drove for about three hours without much conversation, just listening to the radio. We were nearly in North Carolina. Ten miles from the border, Max leaned over and kissed my forehead. “We’re almost there. Do you need to get anything before we leave civilization?”

  “No, I’m ready.” We drove another thirty minutes into a National Forest to a visitor center with a really large parking lot. Max unloaded the horses, and, to my surprise, there were three. “Is someone joining us you forgot to tell me about?”

  Max laughed, “I didn’t expect you to listen to me when I said we were only taking what we could carry on our backs, so I brought Ursula to carry all the camping gear and bags.”

  My voice was louder than it needed to be, “You didn’t expect me to listen? What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, come on, Lauren. Since we’ve been together have you done anything I asked you to?”

  I walked up to Max and wrapped both my arms around his waist and pulled him tightly to me, “That is what you love about me.”

  Max wrapped both his arms around me and whispered in my ear, “I love everything about you.”

  Within a half hour the horses were saddled, Ursula was packed, the truck and trailer were locked up tight, and we were headed to one of the trails. We rode up a relatively even trail for over an hour. Conversation was strained because Max was in front on his horse Christy, leading Ursula, and I was behind on Mischief. The near silence put my mind in overdrive. What were we going to do? Would we run out of things to talk about? What’s going to happen when we decide to camp? Max had been Mr. No-Pressure up until now, but would this be our first time together?

  My mind wandered to Seth and Amanda. I hadn’t remembered to ask Seth what was going on with them, whether he decided to take that job over the summer or stay closer to home. I had seen Rachael at Paul’s funeral. She didn’t seem to be taking his death that hard. They had only gone out once. If he hadn’t been shot, I wondered what would have happened with them.

  Of course, all these thoughts were spinning in my head all at once. Talking to Max was probably the only thing that would keep my mind from spinning out of control. The trail got a little wider ahead, so I moved up to ride beside him and asked, “So when do you have to go back to work?”

  “My boss took me off the schedule. I can go back next week or I don’t ever have to go back.”

  The surprise must have been evident because Max just smiled back at me, “What? Forever is too long to be with me?”

  Caught off guard, I stammered for a second. “No…I mean…I thought you had to go..I mean…you can’t just walk away from a job?”

  “Why not? Really, Lauren, it’s just a job.”

  Max stopped and got down off his horse then walked over to me, “Come on – let’s walk for a little while.” I dismounted, and we walked for a few minutes before either of us said anything.

  “Lauren, what’s wrong? It looks like you are a million miles away. Was this a bad idea so soon after Paul’s funeral?”

  Surprised a bit that my silence would be interpreted this way, and pleased that he was initiating a conversation, “I was just thinking about us, how four months ago I was convinced you were just a figment of my imagination.”

  “As long as you brought it up, I’m going to ask, and I need you to be honest - brutally honest if you have to.” Max looked so serious, I could feel the nervous pangs gripping me.

  “I know physically you’re attracted to me,” he smiled a little mischievously, “but have you given any thought to our future?”

  What is the right response here? I know Max is the only person, the only being I want to share my life with, but no matter how strongly I feel about him, it’s only been four months. My parents expect a longer courtship, my friends expect a longer courtship, I am too naïve to commit to anything, right? But as certain as I am that it hasn’t been long enough to formalize any long term plans, I am just as certain that I’ll never make plans with anyone but Max.

  “Max, I already know my future is you. That’s the one thing I am absolutely sure of. We don’t need to plan our future; it’s just going to happen. Let’s just let it.”

  “I know you believe that because you’re convinced I came to you in a dream, but what happens if you have another dream that tells you I’m not the one?”

  Utter shock at the question left me motionless for a minute. I took Mischief’s reins and twisted them around a low hanging branch. I walked over to where Max stood and took his hand. Placing it over my heart, I wrapped the rest of my body around his and stood on my toes so I could whisper in his ear, “You feel that Max?”

  He nodded and I noticed his eyes were shut, “My heart beats only for you. Do you feel it beating faster?” His touch anywhere on my body made my heart race. Standing this close to him with his hand over my heart made it pound so hard and fast it felt like it would fly right out of my chest. “What else do you want to know about my future?”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Max and I found an area midway up the mountain with a terrific view of the sunset. The pine scent and earthy feel helped me isolate the events of the last three weeks and lock them away. Max systematically began off-loading camping gear, but his first priority was to take care of the horses. He brushed them down, checked their hooves and talked to them. It was interesting to watch how he genuinely cared for each of the animals, ensuring they were set for the night before he ever considered his own comforts.

  I, on the other hand, unsuccessfully tried to assemble our sleeping quarters. The picture on the box made it look easy: there were only six steps in the accompanying directions. Forty-five minutes into my efforts, the only thing I had really accomplished was separating the poles into piles and laying the tent out flat on the ground. What little time I had spent in the Girl Scouts a decade ago seemed to provide little help.

  Max came up behind me and offered to assist. I returned a thankful smile and was pleasantly surprised how quickly he had it up, tied off and staked down. I unzipped the inside and stepped in. This would undoubtedly be one of the most significant nights of my life, and the first pangs of stage fright had me in their grip. I suddenly wanted a hot shower, a bubble bath with candles, anything to remove the mixture of horse and dirt stench I knew I exuded. Max must have noticed my apprehension because he came up behind me and wrapped
his arms around me. “I’m going to get a fire going. I’m sure you’re nearly starving.”

  I decided to make myself useful and gathered dried twigs and pine needles to use for kindling on the fire. As I walked up to our fire pit, Max confessed, “I didn’t want to count on the forest to have dry wood for us to use, so I improvised.” I looked into the center of the fire and nearly howled when I saw the Duraflame log already ablaze in the fire. I placed my armload of kindling in the fire, and he added some rather large wood logs over the top. In no time we had a very healthy fire going. The sun was just touching the horizon, and it looked like we had twenty to thirty minutes left of daylight. The further to the west the sun moved, the cooler it got. Max had two camping chairs setting upwind of the fire and a small camping stove with food already cooking.

  As I went to take the chair next to his, I heard one of the horses whinny loudly and stamp its hooves. Max had tied them to a line that gave them a good bit of space to graze, but something had spooked the animal. He watched the horse that was tugging on its line, and the more resistance it felt, the more effort it seemed to put into pulling, and the louder its hooves sounded on the earth.

  As both our gazes were fixed on the horse, we heard a wolf’s howl – loud and long. The sound was very close; its proximity to us froze me to my chair. Max’s reaction was exactly opposite. This new noise coupled with the horse that was already trying to break free scared the other two horses. The stomping of hooves sounded like hammers pounding on a job site. Max stood up and spoke to the animals in an effort to calm them, but Ursula, the large bay that had carried all our supplies, showed no signs of being comforted. She continued to pull her lead, shaking her head until we both heard an audible snap and she was free. She took off at a gallop with her lead dragging behind her straight down the mountain the way we had come.

  “Dammit! I’ve got to go get her. Can you stay with the fire?” I nodded and Max grabbed Christy’s bridle and was on her back, without aid of a saddle, galloping at full speed down the mountain after the renegade horse.