by Sharon Sala
“I’m so sorry. Stay strong. Don’t die, baby, please don’t die. I love you so much.”
“Brakes,” she said again.
“I heard you. I’ll tell them. No brakes.”
She sighed.
He felt her body go limp again, and it scared him until he realized she had just passed out. He could also feel Jesse patting them. If love could heal, she would already be well.
“Thank you, Jesse. Thank you. You’re my hero, do you know that?”
“No more war. No more medals,” Jesse muttered.
“No. No more war. Just you and Mama on the mountain. How’s that for a good life?”
“Yes,” Jesse said. “Gotta take care of Mama.”
Bowie was struggling to wrap his head around the complexity of this whole damn mess as he looked up at the cloudless blue of the sky. He saw an eagle soaring high over the mountains and heard a faint screech before it flew out of sight, and he wished he could fly. They would already be off this mountain if he could.
When he began to hear voices, he knew the rescue unit was close.
“Are you okay, Jesse?” Bowie asked.
“I’m okay,” Jesse said, still following orders.
Still holding on.
Then all of a sudden rescuers were swarming the area. They put a cervical collar on Talia to keep her neck immobile, checked her vitals and then moved her to a backboard. As soon as she was in their hands, Bowie rolled over onto his knees to help them steady her. They put her and the backboard into a caged lift basket and signaled the rescuers above that she was good to go.
Jesse was strangely silent, which worried Bowie, but it was too late to change what had happened. All he could do was pray the incident didn’t throw his brother into an episode of PTSD. He needed to get Jesse home safely, and he also needed to be at the hospital with Talia. Once again, he was torn between his heart and his responsibilities.
Once Talia was on the way up they strapped Jesse and Bowie into rappelling gear to steady them should they slip and began pulling them up, too. Bowie couldn’t climb up fast enough, but he wouldn’t go ahead of his little brother.
When they finally reached the top, it was with a huge sigh of relief. The ambulance was already on the way to the hospital with Talia onboard, and Leigh was waiting for them with open arms. She had Jesse in a fierce embrace when Bowie reached the top. The minute she saw him, she hugged him, too, pulling her oldest and her youngest as close as she could get them.
Her voice was shaking when she said, “You two scared me, but I’m very proud of you.”
“Is Aidan still here?” Bowie asked.
“No. Leslie called while they were loading Talia into the ambulance. She was on her way to the ER with Johnny. She said his lip wouldn’t stop bleeding and probably needed stitches after all. Aidan left to meet them there.”
“Poor little guy,” Bowie said.
“Johnny will cry,” Jesse said, and frowned.
“Yes, but his mommy and daddy will make him better,” Leigh said.
Jesse put his arms around Leigh.
“Like you make us better. I am a man, Mama. I won’t scare you again.”
Leigh just shook her head and hugged both of them again as Riordan approached.
Bowie gave his mom a quick pat and shifted his attention to Riordan. “Was Talia okay when they got her topside?”
“Yes. They had her stabilized before transport,” Riordan said.
“You need to know that she said her brakes went out,” Bowie said.
Leigh moaned, thinking how close she’d come to losing both Bowie and Talia.
“That does it,” she said.
Riordan glanced at Leigh. The calm tone of her voice was deceiving, because the look in her eyes was frightening. It was the first time he saw the resemblance between her and her twin, Justin.
“I told you,” Leigh muttered, then handed Bowie her keys. “Jesse and I will walk home. It’s not far, and you need to be with Talia. You’re all the family she has now. Be careful today, and know that this won’t happen to any of my family again.”
Riordan flinched. “Now, Mrs. Youngblood...Leigh...don’t do anything you’ll regret. Jesse needs you with him, not behind bars.”
She ignored him and spoke to Bowie again.
“Call me as soon as you know something. We’ll say prayers. She will be well. I believe that for you.”
“Will I be able to take the truck and get it fixed?” Bowie asked.
Riordan shook his head.
“No, I’m going to have both vehicles towed so my crime scene team can look for signs of tampering. I know what’s been said, but you know where I stand. I have to go by the letter of the law, and facts are what will stand up in court.”
“What about Chief Clayton?” Leigh asked.
“I’m going to call him right now and have him interview the other residents on Ms. Champion’s block. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a witness.”
Bowie looked down at his clothes.
“Mama, you and Jesse get in the car. I can’t go to the ER with all this blood on me, and I’m not driving off and leaving the both of you to walk home. I’ll get to the hospital soon enough. Jesse and I did all we could for her. It’s up to God and the doctors now.”
Riordan walked away to call Henry Clayton as Bowie took his family home.
* * *
Chief Clayton was coming out of the courthouse when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and frowned.
“Hello, Constable, what can I do for you?” Clayton asked.
Riordan didn’t waste time getting to the point.
“We’ve had an incident up on the mountain near Stanton Youngblood’s home. The brakes on Bowie’s truck went out. He managed to stop it before it wrecked. Talia Champion was about a half hour behind him when her brakes went out, too. She went over the cliff. She’s alive, but that’s all I know.”
The hair stood up on the back of Clayton’s neck. He knew without Riordan saying anything that the Wayne family was somehow involved.
“That’s terrible. I’m assuming you called to do more than fill me in.”
“Leigh Youngblood had another run-in with her twin. He was about to put a knife in her back when her boys stopped him. According to her, he threatened all of them and told her he’d get even. She swears he’s responsible.”
“But—”
“Hear me out. You know where Miss Champion lives?”
“Yes.”
“Both vehicles were parked at her house this morning while she and Bowie were at her father’s funeral. I need you to do a door to door down that block and see if you can get me an eyewitness to someone messing around her house.”
“Will do. I’ll start first thing tomorrow morn—”
“No. Today. Please. No more delays. We could have another body next time instead of a hospital patient.”
Clayton’s shoulders slumped. Shit. He was about to wind up in Mad Jack Wayne’s crosshairs again. “I’ll give you a call if I find out anything.”
“I appreciate it,” Riordan said, and disconnected.
He was still at the site of the wreck when the tow company began pulling Talia Champion’s car up the mountain. Behind him, Bowie was in his mother’s Jeep, weaving his way past the rescue units on his way into Eden.
Fifteen
The ambulance sped through Eden with its lights flashing and siren screaming, putting everyone who saw it on alert and feeding the gossip mill’s curiosity to find out who was inside.
That information began to spread quickly after they wheeled Talia Champion into the ER and began to assess her injuries. The EMTs were explaining her condition, where they’d found her, and what her stats had been when they’d loaded her for transport up on the mountain.
Someone overheard “car wreck.”
Someone else overheard “off the side of the mountain,” and by the time Bowie got to the hospital the news was spreading throughout Eden.
When he asked where she had been taken, he was directed through a set of double doors to room A3. There were people all around her when he walked in. She had an IV, which they’d probably started in the ambulance, and a heart monitor and a blood pressure machine were hooked up to her fragile body. What he saw was enough to make him sick.
This had happened to her because of him.
“How is she?” Bowie asked.
The doctor paused and looked up. “Are you Bowie?”
“Yes, sir.”
“She was asking for you.”
Bowie frowned. Damn it. I should have come straight from the mountain, even with the blood and dirt. “I got here as fast as I could. Is she going to be okay?”
“She has two broken ribs, a concussion, and I’m putting staples in the cut on her head. Her knees have serious contusions, and she had a dislocated shoulder, but it’s already back in place.”
Bowie winced with every injury the doctor mentioned. He wanted to break Justin Wayne’s damn neck.
“Is she going to need surgery?”
“X-rays didn’t indicate the need at this point. It’s a miracle, considering what happened to her.”
“I know. My brother and I were the ones who pulled her out of the wreck.”
The doctor looked shocked. “You went down the side of a mountain?”
“I love her, so, yes, I—we—did that. You are admitting her, right?” Bowie asked.
“Yes. They’re getting a room ready for her now.”
“Am I allowed to stay with her?” Bowie asked.
“Yes. One more staple and we’ll move you both upstairs.”
* * *
While Bowie was waiting for Talia to be taken to her room, Chief Clayton was beginning his investigation in her neighborhood. He took the east side of the block. His deputy took the west.
It was nearing four in the afternoon. The sun was hot, and the breeze was pretty much nonexistent. The beauty in this part of Eden came from the old growth elms and oaks lining both sides of the streets and the welcome shade they provided. He parked against the curb in the shade of a majestic elm and headed for the first house. A couple of sharp knocks at the door made a small dog inside begin yapping.
He frowned. A damn ankle-biter. Man, he did not like those little yapping dogs.
As soon as the door opened he recognized John Bailey, a fifty-something man who owned a local auto parts store.
“Mr. Bailey, I wonder if I might have a few words with you?”
“Well, sure, Chief. What can I do for you?” John asked.
“By any chance were you home this morning?”
“No, sorry. I didn’t get home until a few minutes ago, but Patsy was here.”
“May I speak to her?”
“Sure, I’ll go get her,” John said, and a few moments later his wife, Patsy, came to the door, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel as she approached. She stepped out onto the porch to talk.
“I’m here. What’s up?” she asked as John came out with her.
“By any chance did you notice someone loitering in the neighborhood this morning? Specifically, around the Champion property?”
Patsy thought back.
“No, I can’t say that I did, but I wasn’t here all morning. I went to Marshall Champion’s funeral. It was graveside only, so I was out at the cemetery for about an hour, and then I went straight from there to the supermarket before I came home. Why do you ask?”
“Just checking some facts.”
“Is Talia okay? I mean, I did notice her car is gone. It was there this morning, along with a pickup truck.”
“She had an accident but I don’t have any information on her status.”
“Oh, no! Bless her heart. She just buried her daddy today, and now this happened to her? Sometimes life can be so unfair!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Clayton said. “Thank you for your help, and sorry to have bothered you.”
“No bother,” Patsy said.
Chief Clayton walked down the shade-covered sidewalk to the next house, but no one was home.
He walked to the third house, a small red brick with a white picket fence, and as he rang the doorbell, he noticed a big black-and-white cat inside the house, sitting on the windowsill to the right of the door. The cat blinked big yellow eyes and proceeded to stare him down.
Clayton was frowning at the cat when the door finally opened. He recognized a retired teacher named Edith Fairview, who looked a bit startled when she saw him.
“Chief Clayton?”
“Yes, ma’am. I wonder if I might have a word with you?”
Just like Patsy Bailey, Mrs. Fairview had been at the funeral service, and when she came home, she’d lain down and taken a nap. Another dead end.
He bypassed the next house because it was Talia Champion’s and headed for the one beyond. As he was walking, he saw Deputy Wells leaving one residence on his way to the next. When he saw Chief Clayton, he shook his head no to indicate he’d found no leads as of yet.
Clayton interviewed a retiree named Mr. Burns, who had also been at the funeral. After learning why the chief was there, Burns informed him that the people who lived in the next two houses down worked at the hospital and wouldn’t be home until after dark.
The last house on his side of the block belonged to a woman named Mayrene Potter. She didn’t have anything helpful to say but did offer him cookies. He was walking back up the street to his cruiser when he heard Deputy Wells shout out his name. He looked up, and Wells waved him over.
He stepped off the curb and then winced at a sharp pain in his foot. That damn ingrown toenail was still giving him fits. He was going to have to take time and go to the doctor before he got some vile infection and lost his damn toe.
“What’s up?” he asked, as Wells came running to meet him.
“Chief! You have to come see this.”
“See what? Do we have a witness or not?”
“We have security footage from the house directly across the street from Miss Champion’s.”
“What’s the resident’s name?” Clayton asked.
“Silas Ballard.”
Clayton frowned.
“Isn’t he the man who keeps reporting someone stealing roses from his prize bushes?”
“Yes. So he set up a security camera to catch his rose thief and caught what looks like someone vandalizing vehicles at the Champion residence, instead.”
“Do we have an ID?”
The deputy rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying the name aloud. You come look for yourself.”
Clayton’s gut knotted. “Fine, just lead the way.”
Silas Ballard was standing in the doorway waiting for them to come in.
“Afternoon, Mr. Ballard,” Clayton said.
“Afternoon, Chief.”
“So, where’s this security footage?” Clayton asked.
“Follow me,” the old man said, and led the way through the house to a small room off the utility room. “This used to be the wife’s sewing room, but since her passing it’s just a catch-all. I set up my security camera out front a few days ago. You can see today’s footage here. I got it ready for you,” he said.
Clayton sat down in the old office chair in front of the viewing screen and leaned forward as the footage began to play.
Within moments a black car appeared, driving slowly through the neighborhood.
Clayton saw the Champion house in the background, and he saw a pickup parked behind Talia Champion’s car in the carport. He watched as the dark car drove out of c
amera range.
“Keep watching,” the deputy said. “He’s coming back.”
And sure enough, there it was again, only this time it stopped right behind the pickup. Unable to get a good view of the license plate, they were focused on the unfolding scene. Within seconds a man jumped out, and even though he was a bit out of focus because of the distance and the quality of the camera, his identity was immediately visible.
“Oh, sweet hell. It’s Justin Wayne, just as his sister predicted,” Clayton muttered.
The three of them continued to watch as Justin popped the hood, then ducked down behind it. A couple of minutes later he shut the hood and moved to the truck. They watched as he unsuccessfully attempted to open the pickup doors, then actually lay down and scooted himself beneath the engine. At that point Clayton’s ears began to roar.
This is my worst fucking nightmare.
“Mr. Ballard, I’m going to need to take this into evidence. Can you get the disc for me, please?”
“Sure thing. Won’t take but a minute,” Silas said.
Clayton sent the deputy across the street to his car to get an evidence bag, and then proceeded to bag, sign and date the disc before leaving the premises.
He and his deputy paused on the street.
“Good job, Wells. Head on back to the office, write up your report and enter this into evidence. Whatever you do, don’t talk about this, understand?”
Wells was a bit wild-eyed and nervous just talking about it with his boss.
“Yes, sir, I sure do. Mum’s the word,” he said, then took the evidence bag and headed to his cruiser as Clayton pulled out his phone and called Constable Riordan. His ingrown toenail wasn’t going to catch a break tonight.
Riordan answered quickly. “Chief! Do you have any news for me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do we have a witness?”
“We have something better,” Clayton said. “We have security camera footage showing Justin Wayne in the act of vandalizing both vehicles.”
“You’re not serious?”
“Oh, yes, sir, I am. I took the footage into evidence. My deputy is on his way back to the precinct to log it in. So how do you want to handle this? You worked the wreck, so technically this belongs to your case, not to mention it’s connected to the murder case you’re still working. Am I right?”