by Sam Sisavath
The gunshot almost ninety minutes ago hadn’t brought anyone out into the woods to investigate, which wasn’t too much of a surprise. They were far from the nearest Wells City residence, which was the entire point. Not just the distance from civilization, but all the trees in the woods would have absorbed a lot of the gunshot’s sound.
Still, Allie kept expecting cops to flood the area and wasn’t sure if she was relieved or annoyed that they never showed up. Slightly relieved, because she’d hate to deal with Wells City’s finest right about now and have to explain what she was doing out here with her own pistol, while Sarah Marshall and her child slept in a cabin nearby. Slightly annoyed, because now it meant she’d have to deal with the shooter all alone.
Allie glanced up and blinked at the first rays of sunlight that had begun to sneak through the canopies above. The woods were coming alive, the hillside brightening up with every passing minute. The squirrel she’d been engaging in a staring contest with had run off to do something else, while the crickets on the ground came awake, as did the birds higher up.
Thirty more minutes later, Allie stepped out from behind cover and looked around.
The shooter was gone. She was the only one standing out here with a gun, wearing just her socks. At least it wasn’t as chilly as it had been last night.
Instead of retracing her steps back to the cabin, Allie went forward, hoping to find some clues to where the shooter had vanished. She quickly picked up the sneaker prints on the ground, leading farther into the woods.
About twenty or so minutes after that, Allie stepped out of the woods and onto a small dirt trail. She hadn’t known it even existed. But apparently the shooter had. There were more prints on the ground: Four large tires belonging to a four-wheel all-terrain vehicle. The ATV had been parked just off the path before it was used to escape. As far as Allie could tell, only one person came and went.
Could it actually have been Tom Marshall last night?
No, that was a bit of a stretch. Marshall wouldn’t have been sneaking around out here. If the man and his family were as powerful as Stan and Pete claimed, Tom would have gone to the cops and brought them here.
No, this was someone else.
Who? And what had they wanted back at the cabin?
Her? Sarah? The baby?
And why did the intruder come armed with a pistol and, if last night was any indication, the will and ability to use it?
She touched her cheek, where the bullet had almost struck her. It’d been close. A killing shot. An attempted killing shot, not that that made her feel any better. Whoever it was, the man hadn’t been messing around. He’d fully intended to kill her.
Better luck next time, Allie thought as she backtracked into the woods.
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“Nothing?”
Sarah shook her head. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
Allie recalled how she’d found Sarah in the streets, with half of her face covered in blood and a cut along her temple. Being “more tired” than she thought made sense considering what she’d gone through last night.
“You said there was a man in here?” Sarah asked.
The other woman sat at the kitchen counter, stirring oatmeal around in her small bowl like someone who wasn’t really hungry but knew they had to eat to survive. It was an automatic response. The cabin came stocked with food, along with beer and water, but there were little things like bacon that Allie had found in town.
Allie sat down with her own bowl and poured milk from a carton into it. “Last night. He fled into the woods.”
She thought about telling Sarah the whole story, that the man was armed and had even taken a shot at her, but decided against it. She was already dealing with a traumatized and battered housewife caring for a newborn, and Sarah probably didn’t need the added knowledge that a stranger with a gun had been outside her door last night, preparing to do God knows what.
“What do you think he was doing here?” Sarah asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll ask him if I run into him again.”
“You didn’t see his face or what he looked like?”
“It was too dark, and he was too fast. I chased him into the woods, but he got away.” Allie looked across the counter at Sarah. “You really didn’t hear anything last night?”
Sarah shook her head again. There was a bandage on her temple where she’d been cut, and in the revealing light of morning, Sarah’s old bruises were more obvious. There were three that Allie could see on the other woman’s face, probably more on the rest of her that Sarah kept hidden underneath her clothes. Instead of her bloodied shirt and pants from last night, Sarah was wearing a set of pajamas that Allie had packed with her. They were slightly big on the smaller woman, but it was better than letting her sleep in her old wardrobe.
“I was so tired,” Sarah said. She sat back on her stool before glancing over her shoulder toward the bedroom hallway.
“How is William?” Allie asked.
“Asleep.” Sarah gave her a small smile. “He sleeps so soundly. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“He doesn’t cry?”
“Not very much. Tom used to say—” She stopped in midsentence, before crossing her chest with her arms almost as a defensive instinct. “What are we going to do now?”
“We?” Allie thought.
Then: Right. We. Because I’m in this now.
“Tell me what happened back at the house,” Allie said. “Before you fled in the Audi last night. You said you didn’t remember before.”
“I didn’t.”
“And this morning?”
Sarah’s lips twisted, eyes looking down at the bowl but very likely seeing something else. Maybe someone else in the milk. “We got into a fight…”
“You and Tom.”
“Yes.”
“How did this happen?” Allie asked, touching her own temple.
“I think he hit me with something…”
“You’re not sure?”
“It’s all a little blurry…”
“What about Tom? How did you manage to get little William away from the house in your condition?”
Again, Sarah shook her head. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry, but…” She put her face in her hands. “I’ve tried to remember. Last night and all morning, but…”
“It’s okay,” Allie said. “It was traumatic. You were fighting for your life. It’ll all come back to you eventually.”
“God, I hope so. The not knowing is… It’s strange. Like a part of my life is missing.”
“It’ll come back. Until then, let’s talk about what you do remember. Why were you guys fighting in the first place?”
“He thought I was cheating on him.”
“Were you?” Allie asked, the question bursting out of her mouth before she could even think about it.
“God, no,” Sarah said. Her eyes widened noticeably, as if she’d just heard the most terrible thing in the world.
Allie believed her. If Sarah was pretending, she was doing a Meryl Streep-worthy Oscar performance.
“But he wouldn’t believe me,” Sarah continued. “He’s always been the jealous type, even while we were dating. You know what’s funny about that?”
“What?”
“He was the one who strayed. He was still seeing his ex-girlfriend while we were engaged.”
“And after you two married?”
“He called it off. Or he told me he did. But…”
“But?”
“I was always sure there was someone else. Or someones else.”
“Did you confront him about it?”
“Yes, and he always turned it back on me. Accusing me of cheating on him.” She sighed and stared off at one of the cabin’s walls. “For a while, I thought we’d gotten past all that…”
Past your husband cheating on you? Allie thought, but again bit her tongue.
“I was hoping that after William was born, things would ch
ange,” Sarah continued. “But it had the opposite effect.”
“What happened?”
“He got more jealous. A lot more.”
Sarah looked back down at her oatmeal floating in the ceramic bowl. If she had any appetite to begin with, it was long gone.
“What about his ex-wife?” Allie asked.
“Claire?” Sarah said.
Allie nodded. “What happened to her?”
“She passed away.”
I heard Tom killed her, Allie thought but said, “Do you know how?”
“She was driving during a thunderstorm. It was an accident.”
“Was it?”
“Yes.” Then, off Allie’s unconvinced look, “Did someone tell you it wasn’t?”
A drunk at a bar last night, Allie thought but said, “I’ve heard rumors that she was trying to divorce him when she died.”
“She was. Tom admitted it. They didn’t get along and got married when they were too young.”
“And you’re sure Tom didn’t have anything to do with Claire’s death?”
“No. I’m not sure. I’m not sure about anything that has to do with Tom anymore.”
“Do you think he’s capable of it? After everything that’s happened?” After the way he beat you, left those bruises on your face and God knows where else? she wanted desperately to add, but once again, bit her tongue.
“I don’t know,” Sarah said. “I don’t know anything anymore. Last night, I was sure he was going to kill me. The look on his face, the sound of his voice…”
Sarah shivered. She might not have even realized she’d done it. Allie wondered how much of what Sarah thought she knew about her husband she was questioning at the moment. Maybe all of it.
“What happened last night?” Allie asked. “What prompted the argument that started all of this?”
“We were at dinner before we stopped in at that bar. What was it called?”
“The Don’t Stop In.”
“Right. That one. For some reason, I can never remember the name.”
“Probably because you don’t go there often.”
“We don’t.”
“What happened at dinner?”
“I smiled at a guy while we were at the restaurant. It wasn’t anyone we knew; or I knew. He was just a nice guy who smiled across the room at me and—I don’t know why—but I smiled back. It was an instinctive response. You know, just to be friendly?”
Allie nodded. “And Tom saw it?”
“Yes. And he got mad. We didn’t even finish our dinner. He wouldn’t let us. I think he would have yelled at me at the restaurant, but there were too many people there, and if there’s one thing Tom knows, it’s not to cause a scene.”
“Because of who he is. His name.”
“Yes.”
“Go on.”
Sarah might have shivered again, though it was barely perceptible. Allie only noticed because she was watching the other woman so closely.
“He didn’t yell at me at the restaurant, but once we were in the car, that changed,” Sarah said. “He yelled at me all the way home. The most obscene things. Accusing me of cheating again. I thought he was…” Sarah stopped.
“What did you think he was going to do?” Allie prompted.
“I thought he was going to kill me.”
Sarah stared across the counter at her in silence for a moment. Allie had seen a lot of traumatized human beings before in her life—too many, in fact—and she saw another one of them here.
Allie reached over and took the other woman’s hand and squeezed. She pursed a smile, and Sarah tried to return it and failed badly.
“Okay. You were leaving the restaurant, and he was angry,” Allie said.
“That’s why I forced him to stop at the Don’t Stop In.” She made another attempt at a failed smile. “Maybe ‘force’ isn’t the right word. I told him I was going to pee in his car if he didn’t stop for me. And he loved that car, maybe more than me.”
“That’s why you left the note for me.”
“Yes.”
“How did you manage that?”
“We ordered drinks when we came in. I was at the bar to pay for them. While I was doing that, and he wasn’t looking, I put the note under your coaster.”
“All of this, because you smiled at some guy during dinner.”
“That was just the latest thing to set him off.”
“‘The latest?’”
Sarah reached up and touched the bandage over her temple. She winced slightly. Her fingers trailed down to one of the bruises on her cheek.
“How many times has he done this?” Allie asked.
“I haven’t exactly been keeping count.”
“But it’s a lot.”
“Yes.”
So why did you stay with him? Allie thought and wanted to demand but didn’t. She wouldn’t have gotten a good answer and would be shocked if Sarah had an answer to give. Allie had never been in Sarah’s situation, but she knew people who had. The question was a simple one, but the answer rarely, if ever, was.
Allie reached into her jacket pocket and took out the two flimsy pieces of toilet paper. She placed it on the table between them.
“You still have it,” Sarah said. She looked surprised to see it.
“It’s evidence.”
Sarah picked up the note by one wet corner. “God, I was so scared when I wrote it. I don’t know how I managed to even write these letters, my hands were shaking so badly.”
Sarah laid the note back down but continued to stare at it.
“You took a really big chance,” Allie said.
“I didn’t have any choice. But I didn’t think anything would come of it. What’s that thing they call in football, when the quarterback just throws the ball into the end zone, hoping one of his teammates catch it?”
“A Hail Mary.”
“That’s all that note was. A Hail Mary.” She smiled, and this time it wasn’t nearly the epic failure as all the other attempts. “I guess some Hail Marys are answered.”
Allie didn’t know how to respond to that. No one had ever referred to her as a Hail Mary football pass before. Then again, no one had ever left a note under her beer coaster asking for help, either.
“We have to go to the police. You know that,” Allie said after a long silence.
The color drained from Sarah’s face.
“There’s no other way,” Allie continued. “Someone will have already found your car in the street by now. That means the police will already be involved. I’ll be shocked if they’re not flashing your picture across the TV screen this very second.”
“I can’t go to the police, Aubrey.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
“I can’t.” She leaned forward, as if she were hoping the extra inches of nearness would convince Allie of what she was trying to say. “The Marshalls… You don’t understand the kind of power they have in Timber Creek.”
“I’ve been told it’s a lot.”
“By who?”
A drunk at a bar and the bartender who works there, Allie thought, but decided it was probably not the most convincing answer she could give.
She said instead, “Everyone around here knows, from what I’ve been told, that the Marshalls have been in Timber Creek County before there even was a Timber Creek County. Or so goes the saying.”
“The sayings are true. Tom’s family really has been here a long time. That’s how they’ve gotten to their position.”
“Which is…?”
“They call the shots. Nothing happens around here without their okay. Mayors, assemblymen, even state representatives.”
“They’re that powerful?”
“They have that much money. Everyone knows it, including everyone in the WCPD. That’s why I can’t go to them. Why I couldn’t before last night, and why I still can’t this morning.”
“You don’t think they’ll believe your word over Tom’s.”
“I know they won�
��t believe me over him,” Sarah said. She had, maybe unwittingly, picked her spoon back up and was gripping it so tight in one hand that her fingers were turning ghostly white. “The police won’t believe me. No one will believe me.”
“I believe you.”
“But you don’t live here.” Sarah glanced around at the cabin. “You rented this place. You don’t belong here.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re a stranger in Timber Creek. And no one’s going to take a stranger’s word over Tom’s.”
“It’s my word and yours against his.”
“No, that’s what you don’t understand, Aubrey,” Sarah said. Her shoulders sagged noticeably, as if all her strength had been zapped from her. “When it comes to the Marshalls, it’s not just Tom, it’s all of them. And what the clan says, goes.”
“Maybe.”
“No, not maybe. That’s how things are around here.”
Allie sat back in her chair, picked up her coffee, and took a sip. “It’s a good thing I’m not from around here, then.”
Ten
She needed news and the lack of a TV—something that was formerly a plus but had now become a disadvantage—wasn’t going to get her that. Wells City was small—at least to Allie, even if Hank disagreed—but it did have a couple of dedicated news websites run by the three local channels. Unfortunately, none of them had anything for her, either because it was still too early in the day or they just didn’t update content as quickly. She wanted to believe the lack of news was because there was no news to write about, but the paranoid part of her wouldn’t let her glom to that hope.
Allie also wasn’t going to get news sitting in the cabin talking with Sarah. The woman’s inability to tell Allie anything about Tom’s state, or exactly what had happened last night at the house, hadn’t helped. Allie didn’t think continually asking her the same questions would get them anywhere. The woman just didn’t remember, and considering what she’d been through, Allie didn’t really blame her. She had experience with trauma. Maybe too much. Some people used it as an incentive, while others hid from it.
Besides gathering news about what was—or wasn’t—happening out there, there was also the matter of William’s needs. The cabin wasn’t designed to care for a newborn, but everything they would need could be found in town.