by Rivi Jacks
“Maybe we should sit down and discuss this further,” the stranger suggests.
“I have nothing else to say,” Sawyer tells him. “If you have any more questions, I suggest you talk with the sheriff’s department.” Sawyer moves to walk away, and the stranger steps in front of him. Oh boy! This guy has no idea what buttons he’s pushing.
I can see most of the store and deli area. I glance at Emma Rae, who is curiously silent. The girls working in the deli/prep area, Bobbi and Mary Burns, watch the goings-on too. The two ladies who came in a few minutes earlier keep glancing over as they pay for their groceries.
Sawyer steps close to the stranger, but the man doesn’t back up. He doesn’t seem intimidated, despite Sawyer being about three inches taller and younger. “Mister, I know and respect the owner of this establishment, so I’m telling you in as nice of a way as I can,” Sawyer says, slow and steady. “Leave.” Next, I hear him say, “Call the sheriff.” I see Bobbi pick up the phone.
There’s a moment of charged silence before the stranger says, “Another time.”
The door swings open, and I move to step around Terry Joe. He turns his head to the side. “Not yet,” he tells me in a low voice.
“Terry Joe, can you run Sofie out to my place?” Sawyer asks.
“Yep,” he replies as he steps away, releasing me.
“Sofie, get your coat.” Sawyer follows me back to the table, along with Emma Rae.
As I shrug my coat on, Sawyer places my stocking cap on my head. “Sawyer, what’s going on?”
“That man was lookin’ for you, Sofie,” Emma Rae states.
“Me?” My voice comes out somewhat squeaky.
“Yeah, come on. You gotta leave before he asks someone who’ll point you out,” Sawyer insists. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“Call me,” Emma Rae urges as Terry Joe ushers me out the door.
Terry Joe tells me the stranger asked Emma Rae about me, wanting to know if I worked there and where I lived. Emma Rae pretended to be me, so the man asked what she’d seen at the McNish place the night they came up missing.
Terry Joe turns on the rough path leading to the Shotgun Shack and pulls around back to hide his truck from view of the road. We have the lights on and heat turned up by the time Sam and Jake show up with Nick and Taylor right behind them.
“You’re back,” I say to Taylor.
He gives me one of his dazzling smiles. “I am.”
“Successful?” I ask.
“I hope so.” I do too.
Nick wraps his arms around me. “Are you okay?”
“I am.”
We sit at the table closest to the heating stove. I decide I want more coffee, so I get a pot brewing in Jake’s old coffee maker.
“What happened, Sofie?” Jake asks as I sit back down.
“Well, you’ll need to ask Terry Joe. He witnessed the whole incident.” I grin at Terry Joe, who proceeds to tell what he knows. Half way through his recounting, Sawyer arrives. Listening, I acknowledge how well Emma Rae handled the situation. But I have an unsettling realization.
“Who did the man say he was?” I ask Sawyer.
“Ed Smith, a private investigator hired by concerned family members whom he’s obligated not to name.”
I snort. “I just bet he was. Why would he want to talk to me?”
“It doesn’t make sense.” Nick hesitates to say more. We’re sticking to the story of Nick, Taylor, and me not being at the McNish. With Terry Joe present, speaking about the situation is difficult. Sawyer gives Jake a significant look. He gives a quick nod. Sawyer turns his gaze on me.
“I agree,” I say, knowing what he’s asking.
“Nick, Taylor, we think Terry Joe should be included in this discussion. He needs to be aware of what’s happening. He’s a good man to have at your back when needed, and I believe we need him,” Sawyer says.
Nick gives Terry Joe a quick glance. “Okay.”
“So, that fella, he was speculatin’ about Sofie being there,” Terry Joe states after Sawyer fills him in.
“I don’t think so,” I interrupt. I decide it’s time to tell them what I realized earlier. They all turn to look at me. “Whoever—or whatever—was there that night shared the fact that we were too. There was someone else on the grassy knoll.”
Taylor laughs.
I’m barely out of the shower when Emma Rae calls. I tell her to come early to poker night. She catches on and doesn’t ask any questions. Taylor and Nick have cautioned us all to be careful of what we say on the phone. I convince the guys to tell Diane and Emma Rae what happened at the McNish. Emma Rae, in all likelihood, will ask questions, and she deserves the truth.
I slip into some blue jeans and a bulky button-up sweater. The sweater is black with green accents and plush to the touch. I add a little makeup and leave my hair down. I pull on my over-the-knee boots, and I’m ready. Before we parted earlier, Jake and Sawyer suggested we all show up before the poker players to give us time to discuss the situation and brainstorm a little more. I go through the house, checking the back door and turning on the light over the kitchen sink. I grab my coat when I hear Jake honking.
Neither Diane nor Emma Rae seems surprised by our version of what happened at the McNish. Diane says that I’m usually with Jake and Sawyer when things happen. We have a fun evening, and a good turnout for poker, but Nick never shows.
The Kihn have been eerily quiet throughout December. Taylor says to be grateful, but it makes me oddly apprehensive. Ben and Lucy host Christmas Eve every year, and the immediate family comes for the whole evening. Other branches of the family and friends drop in throughout the night. We visit, laugh, tell stories, and overeat.
I make sure Nick and Taylor know they are welcome, and Taylor shows up early and stays late. He comes without Nick, and when I ask where Nick is, Taylor makes an excuse about Nick waiting for a phone call.
Lucy fixes punch from a new recipe, and as soon as Sawyer arrives, he spikes it. Lucy is delighted everyone is enjoying her punch and can’t understand why everything is so funny. She never did drink much.
Sam stuck up mistletoe in the wide doorway between the living and dining room. At one point, Taylor and I pass underneath at the same time. I’ve forgotten about the mistletoe, but Taylor grabs my arm and points up. I laugh, thinking he’s going to give me a quick peck. After all, people are watching. He tips my chin up, leans toward me, and brings his lips to mine. Then he’s wrapping his arms around me, bending me over his arm just like you see in the movies. He lays a kiss on me potent enough to make my toes curl. When he releases me to cheers and hoots, I stand there dazed until Aunt Jordy leads me away. For the rest of the evening, I feel as if I blush beet red every time I look at him.
Nick doesn’t arrive until nearly eleven, which I think is extremely rude, but I let it go. I think he’s mad at me. I firmly warned him not to get me a Christmas present. I don’t do presents. Period. I mean, I give presents, but I don’t want any. Nick stopped in early that morning to talk to Jake, and when I came into the living room, he was livid. He was looking at our Christmas tree and noticed a gift to him from me. So, he acts a little cool toward me, which kind of hurts my feelings. I feel as if he’s punishing me.
Jake and I invite family and friends to stop by Christmas day as we leave in the wee hours of the morning. I invite Taylor to come the next day. He takes my hand as we say goodnight and presses something into my palm. He’s out the door and gone before I have a chance to discover he’s given me a charm on a fine, silver chain. Carved from what appears to be jade, the charm is small and exquisite. It’s some type of strange animal with the body of a lion and the head of a howling wolf.
Nick walks me out to Jake’s truck. He asks if he still has an invitation for the next day since he was acting like such an ass. I give him the best kiss I can, tell him, “Merry Christmas,” and I look forward to seeing him the next day.
On Christmas, our house overflows with love, laughter, and loads of
people.
When I confront Taylor about his gift, he insists I keep and wear the necklace. He says the charm will ward off evil spirits and asks for my promise to wear the charm at all times.
So, I’m wearing it. I figure, it can’t hurt, right?
On New Year’s Eve, Nick and I double date with Jake and Diane. We drive to Springfield to dine at a fancy restaurant.
When Diane and I shopped earlier in the week for festive party dresses, Diane found a dress the exact blue of her eyes that showed a good amount of leg and cleavage. Jake’s eyes light up when he sees her in it.
My dress, a wispy little red number Diane convinces me is perfect, shows a good amount of leg and cleavage too. Nick’s eyes light up when he sees me in it. Jake’s do not. He scowls and asks me where the rest of my dress is. Go figure!
The first week of January brings us snow and a bridal shower for Dawn Hayes, hosted by me, her maid of honor. We have a good turnout of Dawn’s friends and coworkers. Dawn’s aunt is giving her a shower with her family, so tonight it’s a group of young women having a few drinks with the light buffet I’ve prepared. A bunch of women with a little alcohol means a lot of laughter and quite a bit of well-meaning advice—or just plain mean advice.
We play several games and then it’s gift time. As Dawn opens each package, the giver of said gift imparts a bit of wisdom about marital bliss. As it turns out, she gets an earful of each person’s experience or, in the case of the single women, something their momma has told them. Dawn receives advice on everything from lots of rest before the honeymoon to no sex for two weeks before the wedding.
Polly Walker tells her men only have two faults: everything they say and everything they do.
My aunts surprise me the most. The advice they give is old local sayings, but hearing them from Lucy and Jordanna make them outrageously funny.
“Any woman who thinks the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach is aiming a little too high,” Lucy tells Dawn, her expression sober. The room erupts in laughter and not a few ribald comments.
Jordy, with the same seriousness, tells Dawn, “What I’m about to tell you is very important for your new husband to understand.” Jordanna pauses. “There’s one gift a woman does not prefer to come in a small package.” Dawn looks at Jordy for a moment before she busts out laughing.
My cousin Polly notices my red face, and I receive a fair share of teasing. I follow Dawn into the kitchen, and as I pass by Bobbi and Teresa, they mumble something sounding like a disparagement on my virtue.
“Sofie, will you go outside with me to get my purse from the car?” Dawn asks. “I want to show everyone pictures of my sister’s new baby.”
We cross the porch to the back door. I’ve left the door open with the storm door closed. Dawn walks in front of me, and I reach around her, flipping on the outside light.
Standing in front of the glass door, looking in at us is, as a rule, something you only see in a nightmare.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dawn lets loose a bloodcurdling scream. I grab her, pulling her away from the door, slam the main door shut, and throw the dead bolt. Dawn decides to scream some more as I drag her back to the kitchen. Some of the other women have rushed in to find out what’s happening.
“Diane!” I yell, unsure of where she is. “Call Jake! Emma Rae!” She stands in the kitchen doorway. “Lock the front door and get the shotgun out of the hall closet.” I open the pantry door and pull out the 12-gauge stashed inside.
The other women want to know what’s happening. Dawn has stopped screaming but is still freaking out, and Jordanna has a hold of her, trying to get her to calm down.
“They’re on their way!” Diane yells over the chaos. “Should I call nine-one-one?”
“No, wait for Jake.” As loud as I can, I yell, “Everyone!”
“Shut up!” Emma Rae bellows, getting everyone’s attention.
“Y’all need to calm down!” I say loudly.
Dawn chooses that moment to declare she’s seen a monster. The semi-hysterics return.
“Emma Rae, please stay at the front door until the guys get here,” I ask, unsure if that—thing will try to get through a locked door or not. “Listen to me!” I yell again.
“Why should we listen to you?” Bobbi asks nastily. Now, how did I know she’d be the one to give me trouble at a time like this?
“Because I’m the one with the gun,” I reply, stepping up to her.
She looks as if she wants to hit me. Instead, she storms out of the kitchen toward the front door, which I think is a stupid move on her part. If she gives Emma Rae grief, she might actually get herself shot.
“The men are here,” Emma Rae yells.
I hand the shotgun to Jordanna and head to the front door. It looks as if they’ve all come from the card game, even Billy. Jake sends Sawyer, Sam, and Taylor outside to look around, then gives me a quick hug. “Are you okay?”
“I am. Thanks for getting here so quickly.”
I’m glad to see Nick. He wraps his arm around my waist. “Did Jake call you?” I ask.
“No... I was at the Shotgun Shack.” This surprises me. He rarely—if ever—shows for poker night. I’m not sure what he does Friday nights. He never says, and I don’t ask.
All at once, we hear yelling out back. Jake and Nick tear out the front door. I start to follow before deciding it’s probably best if I don’t. A pickup truck pulls into the driveway, and after the headlights shut off, I can tell it’s Ben. I step out on the front porch.
“What’s going on, Sofie?” I explain, watching his face for his reaction. He doesn’t give much of one. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He looks at me closely. “I’m fine, Ben.”
“Where’s Lucy?”
“She’s in the kitchen.”
As we make our way down the hall, I hear Sawyer and Sam talking about what’s happened in the backyard.
Dawn and I must have scared the one away from the back door, and it either climbed up on the roof, or there were two of them. When the guys checked out back of the house, Taylor spotted the creature on the roof.
“That sucker leaped and hit the ground running!” Sawyer waves his arms excitedly.
I push my way into the kitchen. I see Nick squatted down in front of Bobbi, sitting in a kitchen chair with crocodile tears rolling down her face. Oh brother, what a phony! Nick’s holding her hands, asking if she’s okay. I make what I think is a warranted disgusted sound and leave. Emma Rae, bless her soul, still stands guard at the front door.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Men are so… gullible,” I mutter. I grab one of Jake’s coats and step out on the front porch as Jake and Taylor come around the corner of the house. “They were on the roof?”
“Yeah,” Jake answers as he rakes his hand through his hair. “What happened here, Sofe?”
I tell him and Taylor everything, which isn’t that much. That is, if you don’t count seeing a monster.
“You’d better check all the upstairs windows,” Taylor suggests.
“Yeah, that’s what I was just thinking. Where’s Nick?” Jake asks.
“Consoling Bobbi.” The men exchange a quick glance, but before I have a chance to consider it, Rose and Sam walk out the front door.
“I’m gonna run Rose home, and I’ll be back,” Sam says.
I give Rose a hug. She’d been as scared as everyone else, but she’d kept it together. I tell them to drive extra careful. After they leave, more of the shower guests depart. I wonder what they think about it all but decide not to ask. On her way out, Polly Walker tells me I give a helluva party. Taylor thinks that’s funny.
We stand in the front yard talking. Nick joins us, and at about the same time, Teresa’s car backs out the driveway.
“Sofie?” I turn to Nick. “What happened?”
I study him for a moment. “Why? Didn’t Bobbi tell you?” Jake clears his throat and mumbles something about checking windows. Taylor offers his
help. They scuttle off. The cowards.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick asks after they’ve left.
“Just what I said.” I don’t think it’s that puzzling of a question.
He sighs. “She was upset, frightened.” I smile. “Sofie, she was crying.”
“I saw.”
“What? You don’t want me to help a woman when she’s traumatized?”
“Traumatized?” I give a short, harsh laugh.
“So, you’re pissed at me?”
I look at him with more than a little surprise. “Nick, I’m not mad at you. You’re right... I wouldn’t expect any less of you than to help someone in distress.”
“Then what’s the problem?” he asks.
“I didn’t say there was a problem.”
“Sofie!” he says in exasperation.
“You asked me what happened, and I asked if Bobbi had told you or not,” I respond.
“And?” His voice betrays his impatience.
“And did Bobbi tell you what happened? I mean, she was all upset and crying. Why? Didn’t you ask her?”
“Sofie, I can’t figure out what you’re getting at or what’s going on with you!”
Now I am pissed. “What’s going on with me is my friend and I came face-to-face with a monster tonight. I had to try to keep a houseful of women from getting hysterical. I didn’t know what would happen! I armed myself at one door and Emma Rae at the other. I tried to keep everyone calm while praying that—thing didn’t try to come into the house.” My voice keeps breaking. Maybe it’s my turn to be hysterical. Perhaps I need someone to comfort me, but I sure as hell don’t want comfort from Nicholas Sinclair! I take a deep, cleansing breath. How did this turn into an angry confrontation?
Nick reaches out, and I step back. At that point, it dawns on me; he hasn’t asked if I’m okay.
Not once.
“Do you know why Bobbi didn’t tell you what happened tonight?” I ask.
“She did—”
I interrupt him. “She didn’t know. She didn’t go to the door and see her worst nightmare. She didn’t stand there, with everyone terrified, knowing that if that monster decided to come through the door, there might not have been anything any of us could have done!” I don’t notice Emma Rae and Jordanna step out on the porch, nor Ben standing in the front doorway, witnessing my meltdown.