Dead of Night (Sloane Monroe)

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  Dead of Night

  A Sloane Monroe Novella (Book 6.5)

  New York Times & USA Today

  Bestselling Author

  Cheryl Bradshaw

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any similarity to events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First edition July 2015

  Copyright © 2015 by Cheryl Bradshaw

  Cover Design Copyright 2015 © Indie Designz

  Formatting by Bob Houston eBook Formatting

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form, or by any means whatsoever (electronic, mechanical, etc.) without the prior written permission and consent of the author.

  The shepherd drives the wolf from the sheep for which the sheep thanks the shepherd as his liberator, while the wolf denounces him for the same act as the destroyer of liberty. Plainly, the sheep and the wolf are not agreed upon a definition of liberty.

  -Abraham Lincoln

  CHAPTER 1

  Wren Bancroft sat next to her husband Will at the kitchen table on the same wobbly chair she’d sat on week after week for the past four years. It was Sunday, a day which meant yet another humdrum dinner at her mother-in-law’s house. Wren never looked forward to June’s Sunday dinners, but refusing to show up wasn’t an option. She’d tried it once, feigning an illness so she could play hooky and spend a quiet, relaxing Sunday evening at home. And it had been relaxing, until June’s Chrysler 300 lulled to a stop on the driveway in front of Wren’s house and Wren learned an important lesson: never screw with June’s Sunday dinner plans again.

  The sound of someone babbling about the “same old, same old” jolted Wren back into the present moment. Her sister-in-law Patty was drumming on and on to her mother about how much she hated her job. June wasn’t paying attention. She was eyeballing Wren as if trying to decide whether she wanted to verbalize whatever it was she was currently thinking. When she didn’t Wren stabbed a piece of barbecued chicken with her fork, glanced at the clock on the wall, and sighed. The time hadn’t changed. At least it didn’t seem like it had. It was still six twenty-five, the same time it was the last time she checked.

  Besides herself, Will, her mother-in-law June, and Patty, the quaint dinner party also included Patty’s husband Ben and Will’s younger brother Simon, who, at the age of thirty-one, was the baby of the family and seemed determined to live up to the name. He had no job, no significant other, and still relied on June to do his laundry.

  Another two minutes passed, and June’s mouth finally opened. She looked at Wren and said, “I see you dyed your hair.”

  It was the first jab of the night. But it wouldn’t be the last. It never was.

  Wren smiled and nodded, said nothing.

  “It’s just so … well, it’s such a bold color choice,” June continued. “Reminds me of red velvet cake the more I look at it.”

  Double jab.

  “I like it,” Will said.

  “I like it too,” Patty added.

  June used her pinkie finger to lift a chunk of Patty’s pink highlights a few inches off Patty’s head and frowned. “Yes, I suppose you would.”

  “Oh come on, Mom,” Patty said. “Just because I’m thirty-three doesn’t mean I have to look it. There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun once in a while.”

  “There’s also nothing wrong with appreciating what God gave you.”

  June scooted her chair back and stood. She walked to the kitchen, retrieved two bottles of red wine, and returned to the table, handing one bottle to Will and the other to Simon. “Speaking of having a bit of fun … I’d like you all to have a drink with me tonight.”

  “What’s the occasion?” Will asked. “I can’t remember the last time we all shared a drink together.”

  June didn’t respond. She kept her eyes fixed on the bottles, waiting for them to make their way around the table. When one circled back to her, she filled her glass to the brim and hoisted it into the air. “Glasses up, everyone.”

  One by one, all the glasses were raised.

  “To happiness, love, and moving on with your life,” June said.

  Glasses clanked together.

  “What do you mean, moving on?” Patty asked. “What haven’t you told us?”

  “I’ve decided to sell the house,” June stated. “I’m moving.”

  The abrupt remark caught Wren off guard, causing the wine she’d just swallowed to go down the wrong pipe. She fisted a hand and smacked it against her chest, hoping no one would notice. And no one did. All eyes were fixed on June.

  “Moving where?” Patty asked.

  “Seal Beach.”

  “Seal Beach? Where’s—”

  “California, dear. Orange County.”

  “Why?” Will asked. “What brought this on?”

  “I’m getting older. I need a change.”

  “But you’ve lived in Wyoming your entire life,” Will said. “Jackson Hole is your home.”

  “I’ve found a new home in a gated senior community. Meals are delivered right to my door. Can you believe that? They even have a shuttle to take me around town. I won’t even need a car.”

  “But you don’t know anyone there,” Will said. “Seal Beach is at least twelve hours away.”

  “Fifteen, actually.”

  Will sighed, shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Why are you doing this?”

  June gulped down the rest of the wine in her glass and set the glass in front of her. “A few months ago I met someone.”

  Audible gasps filled the room.

  “What?” Will asked. “Where? How?”

  “On the Internet.”

  Patty snorted. “You’re kidding, right? You have to be. First you say you’re moving, and now you have a boyfriend too? It’s not funny, Mom.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny. I’m trying to be realistic. Your father died two years ago. Do you expect me to spend the rest of my life alone?”

  “You’re not alone,” Patty said. “You have us.”

  “I don’t have you. I don’t have any of you. You’re never here. Never around.”

  “What do you mean? We’re here right now.”

  June sighed. “I have flown to California four times in the last five weeks, and not a single one of you noticed. At first I had a good laugh about it. I figured if I gave it a couple of weeks, at least one of you would stop by, give me a call, ask why I wasn’t around. When you didn’t, I realized something. You all have your own lives to lead now. You don’t have time for me anymore.”

  Wren leaned back in her chair, bewildered and confused, unsure of what to make of June’s confession.

  Was it some kind of ruse for attention?

  If it was, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

  Still, June had never gone this far before.

  She wouldn’t move to another state to be with a man she barely knew.

  Would she?

  “You’re willing to move to another state for a guy we’ve never met?” Will asked.

  “I don’t need your permission,” June said. “And he has a name. Sebastian Ayres.”

  Simon, who was shaking his head in disbelief, shoved his plate away and stood. “I’m outta here.”

  “Wait,” June said. “Don’t be angry with me, Simon. You don’t understand.”

  “Oh, I understand perfectly,” he replied. “You met someone else. It’s you who doesn’t need us anymore.”

  “Simon, don’t say such things. You don’t mean it.”

/>   “You know what? Go, Mom. Go to California. Have a good life. And hey, thanks for springing this on us all at once.”

  June hung her head. “I’m nothing but a burden to you all. You come here each Sunday out of obligation, not because you want to be here. I’m lonely. I have been ever since your father died. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

  June reached out as Simon walked by, wrapping a hand around his arm. “Please, Simon. Please. Just hear me out.”

  He shrugged her hand away. “I gotta go. Go be with your … Sebastian.”

  …

  Two hours later Wren was combing through her purse at home when she noticed her cell phone was missing. Realizing where she’d left it, she grabbed the car keys out of the bowl in the kitchen and walked into the living room, finding Will engrossed in a show on the History Channel.

  “I left my cell phone at your mom’s house,” she said. “I’m going back to get it.”

  Will ran a hand through his buzzed, caramel-colored hair. “This late? Why don’t you just swing by tomorrow?”

  “I have an early morning meeting. I won’t have time. Do you think she’s still awake?”

  “She watches Everybody Loves Raymond reruns on Sunday night. She should be.” He reached for his phone on the coffee table. “Want me to call and find out?”

  “Nah. I know where she keeps the spare key. If the lights are off, I’ll just slip in and slip out. She won’t even know I was there.”

  Wren backed out of the driveway and drove six miles to June’s house. She parked the car and eased out of the driver’s-side door, noticing all the lights in the house were already out. Thinking the stress from dinner caused June to retire earlier than usual, Wren lifted one of the pots in the front yard, running her hand over the coarse, pebbly concrete until she felt the spare key to the house.

  Using her fingers to guide the key through the hole, she pushed the key inside and turned the lock. The door opened. Wren stepped inside, pressing her hands against the walls to help guide her to the living room, where her cell phone still rested on top of a magazine on the sofa. She reached down to snatch it, slipping on what felt like thick, sticky liquid puddled on the wood floor beneath her feet. Her derriere connected with the floor first, shooting pulsing waves of pain throughout her body. Thinking June’s cat had tipped over his bowl of milk, she grabbed her cell phone, switched on the flashlight feature. She angled the pale light toward the floor, squinting in disbelief at the scene before her.

  Her hand slapped against her lips, and she screamed.

  She hadn’t slipped on milk.

  She’d slipped on blood.

  But whose blood?

  And how did it get there?

  And why?

  She forced herself onto all fours and reached out, switching on the lamp. Though she didn’t want to look, didn’t want to believe what her mind was telling her, she turned, forcing herself to look anyway. June’s limp body was sprawled across the floor, face up, eyes closed. The wood handle of a sharp kitchen knife jutted from her abdomen. Wren placed two unsteady fingers along the side of June’s neck, surprised to find she was still warm to the touch. And there was a pulse. Faint, but it was there. June was still alive!

  June’s eyes flashed open. She reached out, took hold of Wren’s arm. “You need to—”

  “Don’t talk now,” Wren said. “Save your strength. I’m calling the police.”

  June tightened her grip. “Wren … get … out … of … here. RUN!”

  Wren shook her head, refusing to leave June’s side. “No, I won’t leave you. I’m calling for help.”

  June’s eyes fluttered closed again.

  “Shit. June, stay with me!”

  Wren managed to press a single digit on her phone before it was jerked out of her hands from someone hovering over her. Helpless and unarmed, she lacked the fortitude needed to turn and face her mother-in-law’s attacker. Instead she muttered, “Please. I haven’t seen you. Let me help her.”

  Seconds ticked by without a reply. She swallowed hard, tried again.

  “She’s going to die if I don’t do something.”

  She realized how crazy she must have sounded to him, whomever he was. She was negotiating a non-negotiable situation. He had a singular agenda. End of story.

  Or was it?

  He still hadn’t uttered a word.

  Was he gone?

  The constant ticking of the wall clock in the next room unnerved her. It was the same clock she wished would speed up time just hours before. Now she wished it would stop, reverse, return her to her unstable chair at the dinner table. If only they would have stayed a little longer tonight, maybe, just maybe, June would still be alive.

  Alive.

  June was no longer moving, no longer breathing. Wren assumed this time her mother-in-law was dead. But what if she wasn’t? Wren bent over June, felt for a pulse. This time, there wasn’t one. In a sudden act of bravery, Wren braced a hand against the arm of the sofa, lifting herself to a standing position. Her legs were limp and noodly, but she didn’t have a choice. Time was ebbing away. She had to at least try to get help, even if it meant meeting the same fate as June.

  She’d taken a few steps toward the door before she froze. June’s attacker was still there, lurking in the shadows. She wasn’t sure where, but she could feel his eyes on her, hear each inhale and exhale of his staggered breath. Her jaw dropped, and her head was pounding so quick, so heavy, she wasn’t sure if any actual noise came out.

  I’m not going to make it out alive.

  I’m going to die here.

  Unless …

  The last word June had said moments before launched her into action, and she knew what she needed to do.

  RUN.

  CHAPTER 2

  Two Hours Later

  I draped Cade’s arms around me, inching back in bed until my body was aligned with his, pressed together like we were one. The closeness I craved from him surprised me. I’d tried sleeping next to other men in the past, but it never worked. There was always something, the one deal-breaker that booted them out of my bed and back to their own bachelor pads. It wasn’t the big things that unnerved me the most. It was the little things, like the unsteady rhythm of a man’s hot breath in my ear as he slept, or a man turning on the television at one o’clock in the morning because he still wasn’t ready to go to bed yet.

  Cade was what I liked to call a triple threat. He breathed in my ear while he slept, he snored, and he turned the television on when he was fidgety, when there was something on his mind. But somehow it didn’t matter.

  Nothing mattered with him.

  “You keep pressin’ your body into mine and you’re not going to get any sleep tonight,” he teased.

  I flipped around, pressing my lips against his. “Maybe I don’t want to get any sleep.”

  He trailed a finger along my jawline. “I love you, Sloane.”

  “I know.”

  I know.

  Pathetic, right?

  Part of me cringed every time I said it. Up to this point, it was the only reply I’d managed to squeak out. I’d even convinced myself it was a lot better than muttering something back like “ditto” or “thanks,” two things I’d heard from men I’d dated in the past. Both words had made me feel worthless and small, leaving me with the urge to remove a fork from my silverware drawer and stab it into a place no fork should ever be stabbed.

  I’ll show you “ditto” or “thanks”.

  We’d known each other for a little over a year and had been in a relationship for the last seven months. Life wasn’t just good, it was great; and my life never stayed great for a prolonged period of time. I supposed it was this very reason that made me hesitate when it came to saying the “L” word.

  I just wanted to live in the moment.

  This moment.

  I didn’t want to jinx it.

  Cade rolled out of bed and leaned down, grabbing his shirt off the floor. “You can put off sayin’ you love
me back if you want. It don’t make no difference. I know you feel the same way I do. Might as well push through your fear and get it over with.”

  Push past my fear.

  If only it were that easy.

  I folded the pillow behind me in half and rested my head on top, wondering why he shot out of bed so quickly, allowing my fear to create several different scenarios in my overactive mind. They wouldn’t be quieted unless I said something, so I did. “Why did you get out of bed?”

  He leaned down, kissed my forehead. “One of the new motion detector lights just turned on in the front yard. I better check it out.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. He was right. A sliver of light seeped through a crack in the curtains.

  “It’s probably nothing,” Cade said. “My best guess, Shelby’s either trying to sneak in, or sneak out.”

  I looked at the time on the desk clock. It was a quarter past midnight.

  “You didn’t tell her about the motion lights you just had installed, did you?”

  He grinned. “And rob myself of the chance of seein’ the look on her face when she knows she’s busted? Not a chance.”

  Cade made it halfway to the bedroom door when there was a knock on the other side. He twisted the knob, shocked to find Shelby standing in front of him, dressed in nothing but a nightshirt. She rubbed one of her eyes and said, “Dad, why is there a light on outside my room?”

  He looked at Shelby, then at me, then at Shelby again. “Have you been in your room all night?”

  “Yes.”

  “All night? You didn’t go anywhere, not even for a few minutes?”

  “No, Dad. I was too tired to go out. I’ve been in my room since nine.”

  He raised a brow like he didn’t know whether he believed her. “If you’re here, then how did the light switch on?”

  I laughed. “You sure it was installed correctly?”

  He frowned. “Yes, and, it’s not funny.”

  It wasn’t just funny. It was hilarious.

  “Isn’t it possible a deer tripped the light?” I asked.