Fate’s Reaping

by Becca Fanning

  I hope I can live with that.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled into his driveway and saw that her car was parked there. He parked beside it and quickly made his way inside, his senses buffeted by the smell of cooking food.

  “Angie?” he asked as he came into the kitchen.

  She turned from the stove and smiled. “Lasagna okay?”

  He couldn’t help but smile. His stomach was growling; he hadn’t eaten anything all day.

  “Lasagna is fine,” he told her. He took off his belt and hung it on the peg next to the door. “Look, Angie, I’m –”

  “Stop,” she told him. Angie came close to him and started to unbutton his uniform shirt. “I’m sorry, too. I know what I asked you to do was wrong. I shouldn’t have asked you to compromise on your morals and your job to help me with my job. I was wrong.

  “I think I was wrong to ask Joanna Rivers for help, too. But I became so focused on doing what I thought was right that everything else kind of fell to the wayside. Please, forgive me. I don’t want to do anything that’ll risk me losing you.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” he whispered, kissing her on the forehead. “I should have talked with you instead of ignoring you. It wasn’t right. Look – it’s been a while since I’ve done any of this relationship stuff. I know it’s not always going to be easy.

  “And I know that working in this town isn’t easy, either. I know getting things done around here is hard. I know that you thought talking to Joanna Rivers was your best bet – and truth be told, it probably was. That case was dead in the water, anyway – so at least you got something out of it.”

  “Next time, how about we talk about these kind of things?” she asked him. He nodded slowly, her face inches from his own.

  Is it always that easy? He didn’t remember it being that easy. He half expected a huge fight, both of them to start arguing their side again – but somehow, it all just slipped away.

  “I was wrong,” she told him.

  “And I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

  “Look at us. We’re acting like some kind of old couple,” Angie said, laughing lightly. Her laugh made all of his worries slip away. He’d been expecting a huge fight. He’d been expecting Angie to have left Charming before he got back to town and was able to apologize to her for how he’d acted.

  “How much longer until the food is done?”

  “About 20 minutes,” Angie said, opening the oven and peering in. Marcus came up behind her and swept her into his arms. She screamed in mock alarm.

  “That’s more than enough time,” he said. Angie in his arms, their fight already far behind them – Marcus carried Angie to his room and threw her in his bed. And then he pounced on her, raining kisses down over every exposed bit of skin.

  It is this easy. With Angie, it is.

  Chapter 6

  Driving into Charming, Angie smiled.

  Things are better. And it wasn’t that hard.

  She wasn’t an expert on relationships. Neither was Marcus. Together, though, they had something she’d never experienced before. They’d been able to talk to each other – something she hadn’t known would be that easy.

  I am completely and utterly falling for him. Maybe I already have.

  They’d spent the rest of the night in bed, only getting out when they smelled the lasagna burning in the oven. They’d eaten quickly and then hopped in the shower together before going back to the bedroom, spending the night wrapped in each other’s arms.

  Was it make up sex? Or was it something more?

  Angie knew she had been in the wrong for suggesting that Marcus go easy on Jimmy Rivers. He had told her he had been in the wrong for how he acted, then they had agreed to be better to each other and that was that.

  Simple. Easy. Is this what it’s like to be in love?

  The thought startled her. Was that what it was? Love?

  Angie had never been in love before.

  But I think I am, now.

  Marcus had gone in early to work the case over the missing pastor. Angie had stayed in bed a little bit longer, not wanting to get up and start the day. She’d wanted to stay in Marcus’s bed all day. It felt good. It felt like home.

  The sun was just coming up over the horizon when she saw headlights in her rear view mirror, approaching fast. Ever since their wreck pursuing Jimmy Rivers, Angie had been nervous about reckless drivers.

  She watched carefully – and instead of passing, the car stayed right on her bumper.

  “What –” was all she had time to say.

  The other vehicle – she couldn’t tell what it was – ran into the back of her car. She felt the steering wheel jerk in her hands, the entire car lurch to the side, and she was soon halfway in the ditch.

  Angie yanked the wheel to the side, coming back onto the road and sliding into the center of the lanes. She had just enough time to glance in her mirror before the vehicle was bumping into her again. Her knuckles white on the wheel, she screamed in terror as the vehicle came up beside her and started to push her towards the ditch.

  She fought it the best she could but it wasn’t enough. Her car wasn’t fast enough to get away and the other car – she could see it was some kind of old truck – was much larger than her vehicle was. She watched as the truck swung out wide to the side, then jerked back towards her.

  Angie slammed on the brakes – it was the only thing she could hope to do.

  But it wasn’t enough. She’d been hoping the truck would overshoot its target. Of course, it didn’t – it hit directly into the passenger side door. Glass exploded inward, striking her face and hands – and then she was losing control, sliding into the opposite ditch. She tried holding the wheel steady but it was useless.

  Angie’s car went into the ditch front end first. She’d been hoping the car would carry over into the field – instead, it hit the ditch and stopped in an instant. The airbag deployed, slowing her impact. She felt her seatbelt tighten against her shoulder and chest. There was the loud screaming of metal as the car collapsed around her.

  After a few moments, she realized she was alive and could breathe. The airbag was deflating and she saw nothing but dirt in front of her through a cracked windshield.

  She coughed and unbuckled her seatbelt, wrenching the door open as she did so. It didn’t want to open but she forced it and with a loud, grinding creak, it finally swung open just enough for her to slip out. Angie fell to her hands and knees in the ditch. Her vision was swimming – but she thought she was alright. She wasn’t bleeding and nothing hurt.

  At least there’s that. What was that about?

  She saw the old truck parked just up the road, half in the road and half in the ditch. She turned towards it –

  And she heard someone behind her. She tried to spin around but before she could even get halfway around, hands grabbed her arms roughly. She screamed in alarm and thrashed outward.

  She felt something dropping over her head and then everything went black. Angie screamed again, tried fighting against her attackers – but it was pointless. They’d put a bag over her head and held her tight. There was nothing she could do.

  She felt a sharp pain in her ribs, as if someone had punched her, and she doubled over in agony. She heard voices, though they sounded strangely vague – she couldn’t put her finger on who was talking or even what they sounded like. Then she felt something press between her shoulder blades and she knew exactly what it was.

  A gun.

  The barrel of a rifle prodding her along, Angie had no choice but to comply. She couldn’t see where she was going with the sack over her eyes but she could feel the pavement of the road underneath her shoes. She heard the sound of doors opening and then she was thrust onto a seat.

  I’m in the back of the truck. What is going on? Why?

  Angie had no answers. Obviously, she was being kidnapped – but for what reason? She’d hardly interacted with anyone from Charming since she’d been back. Was it some kind
of retaliation for not giving a testimony against Jimmy Rivers at the trial?

  Maybe it’s the Copelands. She had heard two voices: it could be Cliff and Stu. They had plenty of reasons to kill her. Between not testifying against Jimmy Rivers and helping to take down their father, she must have been on the top of their most hated list.

  “Stay still,” a voice said. It sounded oddly inhuman, as if the voice was coming through some kind of voice changing device. “We don’t want to hurt you anymore than we have to.”

  “You already have,” she said through the sack. She hoped her voice was strong and unwavering, though she didn’t feel it.

  I’m going to die. I’m never going to see Marcus again.

  For the briefest of moments, she hoped he would come to her rescue just like he’d done at Copeland’s office. But this wasn’t some fairy tale movie. She was on her own.

  She didn’t know how long they drove but eventually, she heard the vehicle rumbling to a stop. There was more of that robotic talking and then the doors opened. She felt hands grab her, haul her out of the truck, and push her along.

  She felt gravel underneath her feet. There was the sound of a door opening and she was thrust into a building – she knew as much because of the change in air temperature. It was hot outside already, but inside of the building was stifling hot. Angie immediately began sweating.

  Angie found herself dropped into a chair. Cold metal wrapped around her wrists – handcuffs – and she tried pulling her hands up but found that, unsurprisingly, they were attached to the chair. She felt hands around her ankles, tying something, and then her legs were bound to the chair, too.

  There was a hand on her head and the sack was ripped off. Angie blinked against the bright light shining directly into her face from above. Her eyes watered. After a few moments the brightness began to dim just a little.

  Looking around, she couldn’t see much. Besides the light pointing directly into her face, the rest of the building – what little she could see, anyway – appeared to be darkness. She saw two men moving beyond the edge of the light but she couldn’t make them out.

  “What do you want? Are you going to torture me?”

  The same weird, robotic voice answered, “We hope it doesn’t come to that, Miss Campbell.”

  At least they’re courteous. At least I have that going for me.

  “As to what we want…”

  There was a long pause, almost a minute long. Angie felt herself shaking.

  Are they going to kill me?

  “Tell us about what happened between Mayor Copeland, you, and the Sheriff.”

  Marcus? What does he have to do with this?

  “What?”

  “What happened? What’s he like?”

  “I’m not telling you anything about him. You’ll need to ask him yourself!” she said. It was hard but she was trying to remain strong.

  I won’t betray Marcus. I won’t…

  She felt the cold touch of metal on her neck from behind. She jerked away from it and looked backwards. She couldn’t see the man, but she could see a hand and the metal scalpel it was holding. It looked wickedly sharp and she had no doubt that it could slice through her skin like a hot knife through butter.

  “I’ll ask again,” the voice said from the man in front. He was standing just at the edge of the light. She saw the tips of dirty, grime encrusted boots but nothing else. “What is he like?”

  “He’s a great man. Honorable. Is that what you want to know? That he’s smart and clever. He’ll find me and he’ll find you. Do you think you can honestly get away with this under his watch? Look what he did to Copeland.”

  “Okay. Tell us about how he interacted with Mayor Copeland.”

  “Why?”

  “Start from the beginning.”

  Angie told the story the best she remembered. Then they asked about Joanna Rivers. The questions turned to stuff she had no idea about: Charming’s history, Butchie, who was the bartender, other citizens of the town she’d never heard of.

  “Now, tell me about yourself. How do you know Marcus? What’s your relationship like?”

  “Our relationship?”

  “How long have you been together, my dear?”

  Angie felt herself shuddering. She hated those words; they reminded her of Jonathan Hall.

  I think you have more important things to worry about right now.

  She tried her best to avoid the question – but every time she lied, or even gave a half truth, the scalpel came back. Once, she felt it slice ever so slightly into the side of her neck and she screamed in alarm and pain. She could feel her warm blood trickling down her neck.

  “Don’t make us do that again,” the voice warned.

  So she told them everything they wanted to know‒ Marcus, what she knew of him, everything she knew of Charming. Then the questions started coming about her. Her life, her work, what jobs she had done, what she had thought of Mayor Copeland. Her family. Erica and her death. Angie’s friends.

  She didn’t know what the questions amounted to. It sounded like a random assortment of questions that had no relation to each other. Angie gave them everything they needed because she had to survive this and warn Marcus.

  “That should do it,” the voice said and his boots disappeared out of the ring of light. Then the light kicked off and the building was flooded in complete darkness. Angie could see nothing, but she could hear boots moving around on the ground and then she felt the familiar feeling of the bag being drawn over her head.

  “Are you going to kill me?”

  “Not this time,” the voice said – and Angie could hear enough of the man’s voice to know that he was smiling when he said it. “You’ve been a great help, Miss Campbell. But we may have need of you in the near future.

  “So do us a favor. Keep your mouth shut. If we hear you’ve talked to Sheriff Stone – well, let’s just say that we won’t be happy. We’re doing something here – something much greater than either you or the Sheriff – and we would hate for you to get in our way.”

  Angie wanted to tell him to go to hell but there was a sudden feeling in the side of her neck – the smallest point of pressure, the slightest hint of pain.

  And her thoughts began to grow groggy.

  They’ve drugged me. Drugged… Me…

  What…

  Why…

  Marcus.

  And then everything was quickly fading to black – more than it already was underneath her hood. She heard a strange rushing noise. They were pulling her to her feet – but then she felt her body begin to lift up, as if she was floating.

  It was the most peculiar feeling.

  And then she woke up in her car. Everything was slow coming to her – but she was definitely back in her car.

  It was still destroyed, of course. But it was parked in front of Marcus’s house. She looked over at the sun – even a glance at it made her head split in agony – and she saw that it was low in the sky.

  The entire day had passed. She’d been drugged and left in her car for who knows how long.

  I have to tell Marcus. God, please don’t let it be too late.

  Chapter 7

  The day had been dragging on. Marcus hadn’t heard from anyone – not Angie, not the wolf Shifters, not even Levi Stoltz and his wife. He’d heard Levi had appeared back in town late last night, hungover and disheveled.

  Marcus didn’t know if his wife was happy to see him or not.

  None of that mattered. Whatever had been going on between him and Angie – all of the problems, arguments, doubts about the future – it was all over with. Things were back to the way they should be.

  He couldn’t help but smile; he hadn’t been in a relationship since Lindsey, hadn’t even touched a woman since then. But he’d heard of others, looked at people like Levi and Mary Stoltz, and he couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t supposed to be that easy. Most people couldn’t just fix things.

  He knew it wasn’t him, of course. It was A
ngie. Through and through. Marcus knew he was the weak link. He was broken, though Angie was doing her best to fix him. If it hadn’t been for Angie…

  Marcus had just decided it was time to lock up and get home to Angie when he heard someone coming in the front door.

  The man froze at the threshold, looking in with a smile on his face. Marcus looked the man up and down. He’d never see him before, and with good reason.

  This man was an outsider. He wasn’t from Charming. Hell, he wasn’t even from Arizona by the looks of him.

  Probably L.A. New York. One of those big towns…

  He was dressed perfectly in a pair of nice slacks, a blazer, and polished leather loafers. His hair was cut short, his beard neatly trimmed; a stark contrast to Marcus who dressed rugged and looked like it.

  “You must be the Sheriff,” the man began. Marcus stayed seated and nodded at the man.

  “Sheriff Marcus Stone,” he said, extending a hand as the man came in and sat down across from his desk. The man shook his hand – a light, almost delicate handshake – and smiled at Marcus, but there was no warmth in it. “And you are?”

  “Jonathan Hall. Call me Jon.”

  “And what can I do for you, Jon?” Marcus asked. He leaned back in his chair to give himself room to evaluate this man. He tried to read people, though he wasn’t always successful. He’d learned that all too well when he hadn’t suspected Mayor Copeland until it was almost too late.

  One thing he knew about this man was that his intentions of coming to Charming were less than pure. Marcus could feel his eyes narrowing.

  “I’m here to find an old…” he paused, as if trying to find the right word. “Acquaintance, of mine.” He smiled at that, eyes going to a faraway place as if remembering something good.

  “Is your acquaintance missing? On the run?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Then you’re asking the wrong man. Not really my area of expertise, you understand,” Marcus told him. He didn’t want to help this man. He didn’t want to deal with him, see him, or even smell him. He wanted him gone from Charming. He couldn’t put his finger on it but he knew in his heart he was right.