The Summerland

by T. L. Schaefer

  The fact that she was in his bed on a Sunday morning not only seemed right, it seemed destined. He couldn’t think of a better way to start the morning, and dropped his mouth to hers, waking her with a long, slow kiss.

  Now, almost ten hours later, he’d had time to think about last night and this morning. Bill knew where he was headed, but he wasn’t sure if Arden was working off of the same map. One thing was for certain. They needed to sit down and talk this through, the whole situation, including Samantha. He had a feeling it might be one of the most important discussions in his life.

  With that in mind, he stood before her door, his fist raised to knock when it opened and Stumpy Goltree stepped out, a smile on his face as he smoothed his uniform shirt into his pants.

  For a moment Bill was shocked speechless, then anger shot through him like lightning. For his part, Stumpy had the grace to look devastatingly uncomfortable as he stood in the doorway, shifting from foot to booted foot and flushing to the roots of his flattop.

  “Hi, ah, Sheriff. Captain Jones wanted me to come by. Um, I guess I’ll be going now.” He began to bolt for the stairway, but was caught short by Arden’s voice as it floated from the room.

  “Thanks again for coming by Deputy. Oh…” Bill could tell his appearance had caught Arden off guard, and his tired mind automatically, irrationally jumped to the wrong conclusion as to the reason for the deputy’s visit. He knew, deep in his heart, that Arden wasn’t the type of woman to betray what they had shared last night and this morning, but his overactive imagination and pure anger at seeing Stumpy in general overrode all rational thought. He could actually feel his temperature rise and feel the blood suffuse his entire body. Arden’s next words did nothing to check his anger.

  “Hi Bill,” she said warily, unconsciously tensing as the two big men faced each other across her threshold. “I was just thanking Deputy Goltree in person for what he did for me earlier this summer.”

  “Oh, you mean almost getting you killed?” Bill shifted his glower from Arden back to Stumpy and felt his fury multiply tenfold. He would deal with Arden Jones and her treachery shortly.

  “I think the department has thanked him quite enough, haven’t they Deputy? Internal Affairs was incredibly kind to you, at least in my estimation, but then again, what I thought didn’t mean a whole helluva a lot when it came to you, did it? Get back on patrol.” With that Bill dismissed the deputy and turned back to Arden, not liking the way her color had risen and the dangerous light in her eyes signaled a coming battle.

  “Never mind him, Stumpy. Thank you very much for everything.” The big Deputy fled down the hallway, mumbling something to Arden under his breath, hell-bent on getting out of the Sheriff’s range.

  “Never mind, my ass.” Bill’s rage at Arden’s perceived infidelity was still there, still potent, still completely illogical and bubbling just beneath the surface. Without missing a beat he switched it’s focus and continued his rant, unabated.

  “Stumpy Goltree almost got you killed this summer. The fact that he got a commendation rather than his sorry butt fired has nothing to do with it. He set you up to die, and now you’re thanking him for it?”

  Arden calmly raised her hand, stopping his torrent in midstream.

  “Well, isn’t this just delightful?” she asked pleasantly, the underlying sarcasm in her voice capable of curdling cream. Bill could almost see the steam coming out from Arden’s ears, her rigid stance in the doorway shouting her opinion of his behavior in no uncertain terms.

  “How dare you come to my room and talk to me and my visitor like that? It’s rude and totally inappropriate.” She shifted slightly, tensely on her feet as if preparing for combat, effectively barring him from her room and her inner thoughts with that one small movement.

  “Did you want something, or was I just privileged to see you act like a total ass for no apparent reason?”

  “Yes goddamn it, I came up here to talk to you about last night, this morning, and what the hell we’re going to do tomorrow. And what do I get for my trouble, but to see Stumpy Goltree strolling out of your room at three in the afternoon straightening his fucking clothes.”

  He was shouting now, all pretense of control gone. He didn’t care if Mindy Turner and half of the Grizzlies football team were listening. “Looking for a little afternoon delight, eh Arden? What, is Doug next? You’re just like your sister.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth he knew the enormity of his misstep. He knew she had done no such thing, knew that she was nothing like her sister. But the words were already out, hanging between them like a noxious cloud in the suddenly soundless hallway.

  Arden simply stood there, quiet and still in the doorway, her anger going into deep freeze, the flashing of her eyes the only signal to her utter fury.

  “Just who in the hell do you think you are?” Her question was clipped, her words precise as a cutting blade. Her expressionless face showed nothing of the gut-wrenching pain she suddenly felt. At that precise moment she knew the only way to end this confrontation was to bring it down to the level that Bill just had. To completely negate the importance of their lovemaking and fitful courtship.

  “We spent the night together. Period. That doesn’t give you rights over my body, my mind or any part of me. I could have slept with half of your damned squad room this morning, and it still wouldn’t be any of your business. If I’d known you were planning on branding me two minutes after I left of your bed, I never would have warmed it in the first place. And don’t you ever dare presume to know my sister or anything about her. Goodbye Sheriff. Thanks for the memories.” With that, Arden stepped back, closing the door with a quiet, distinct click.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Mindy’s absent chatter was welcome background noise to Arden’s turbulent thoughts. She was currently being regaled with the Turner version of what was really going on within the confines of the Wiccan coven. If she hadn’t been so distanced from the situation as a whole, she would have found the innkeeper’s attempt to take her mind off Bill Ashton quite charming.

  The analytical part of Arden’s mind had clamped down on its emotional counterpart with authority the moment door had closed in Bill’s face. It was the ‘this is Arden Jones reporting’ portion of her psyche that dissected and categorized and filed each of Mindy’s statements, finding them an amusing contrast to the complete anti-housewife. For Mindy was the picture of the sophisticated, dislocated urbanite, her hair, nails and make up perfect. The fact that she talked like she’d been born to these hills only added to Arden’s detached amusement.

  “I just know they’re doing evil, dirty things in that house.” The sharp enthusiasm in her voice was gleeful, barely contained and very small town.

  “Satanic rituals and sex rites and all manner of things. I know none of those TV people are saying it, but that’s just because we know how to keep what’s ours as ours. They don’t need to see any more Mariposa skeletons, and that damned Stumpy has already aired too many anyhow. You mark my words someone will take that boy down a notch. Even if he does know this whole county top to bottom, he’s gotten too big for his britches, old Mariposa family name or no.”

  Mindy’s voice droned on, and Arden stoically checked her inner barometer, almost frightened by the emotion seething just below her calm façade. And just by checking, brought it all roiling to the surface. If she thought she was fooling herself or Mindy, she was wrong.

  She paced the carpet in short, choppy steps, her newly liberated anger growing with each stride. How dare he even begin to imply such a thing? How dare he change what they’d shared into something cheap, easily had? When she thought of the emotion she’d invested in them it made her stomach turn.

  He’d stood outside her door for ten minutes, first asking, then demanding to be let in so they could talk, straighten this out. Mindy had finally come to her rescue and asked him to leave. Arden wasn’t sure, but thought she’d heard the feisty hotelier ask him if he would like Sergeant Brewster
’s assistance in exiting the premises.

  Then he was gone, and Mindy was firmly knocking on the door. Arden had absentmindedly let her in and she hadn’t left since.

  It had been an obscenely eventful twenty-four hours.

  “And then we left the Lodge and Cathy was so tipsy that she ran her car into a ditch. We had to pay the Sheriff so he wouldn’t take Cathy to jail. Can you imagine? So, of course we paid him. In those days you didn’t to anything to upset the law in this county. Everyone here knows what happened to that deputy who wanted to go to the state Attorney General, yes indeed. They found his body at the bottom of the lake two summers later. Couldn’t swim, my hiney. Cal Black was a damned fish and everyone in this county knew it. Who did they think they were fooling?”

  Mindy’s mention of the Sheriff caught Arden’s interest only as long as it took to determine she was talking about a previous regime. Then her mind returned to the same mantra it had been hashing to death for the last hour and a half.

  She had no one to blame but herself for the way things stood. She was a consenting adult. She’d enjoyed herself and pleasured him, so what was the harm, where was the foul? It was just as she’d told him. She had shared his bed.

  Even as she tried to rationalize her anger over his behavior, her overwhelming feelings of betrayal, to be a sophisticated adult about the whole situation, she knew she was lying to herself.

  She’d invested too much of her heart in this man, only to have him stomp on it with size thirteen boots. How could he impugn her character, the one thing that defined her as Arden Jones? That was the thing that infuriated her the most. She’d been secure in the knowledge that he would never doubt her integrity. Even Tom’s betrayal hadn’t hurt as badly as Bill Ashton’s mistrust in her.

  One thing was for certain, Tom had never made her as dangerously angry as she was right this second. When it came to displays of emotion, the Arden Jones of days past had always handled them tastefully and with tact. She never made a scene, never let herself get so involved that she lost her head.

  It seemed that all of that tact and restraint had flown out the window the instant Bill Ashton had opened his damned fool mouth. She was about two seconds away from picking up the delicate knick-knacks adorning the dresser and heaving them against the tastefully papered walls. It was a very thin line she was walking, and in her current state of mind she couldn’t think of anything more satisfying than hearing the refined explosion of expensive porcelain.

  She also knew, deep in her woman’s heart, that the pure, clean anger she felt right now would give way to something much more painful in a very short while. If she knew one thing, it was that she didn’t want to be anywhere near Mariposa when that happened. With a determined nod, she strode to the end of the bed, gathering up her loose belongings as she did so. If nothing else, she would have memories to take with her, even if the man they involved was the biggest horse’s ass north of the Mexican border.

  Mindy shifted to down-and-dirty girl talk, apparently fearful of losing her audience. “Yak, Yak, Yak…”

  Arden listened with half an ear as she began re-packing the lone suitcase sitting on the luggage rack. She had her car back and the authorities were looking into her sister’s disappearance. She saw no reason to stay here and subject herself to Mindy Turner’s endless supply of gossip or Bill Ashton’s heedlessly cruel heart.

  She’d always wanted to see Lake Tahoe, play the slots in Reno. This was her chance. Maybe her only chance to leave with her pride intact.

  She was crossing the room for the last of her toiletries when a movement caught her eye. Swinging to fully face the second-story window, she stifled a gasp as she looked into the disquieted eyes of Sheriff Bill Ashton.

  * * * *

  Mindy fled the room in a coward’s retreat as Bill hauled himself over the sash with a harsh grunt. His hands and arms were hashed with the distinctive thin red attack lines of a rose’s thorns, his jeans and shirt dirty from his traverse up the delicate trellis adorning the side of the boarding house.

  Arden moved to the other side of the room, not quite trusting her uncertain temper at this point. He’d caught her by surprise. Her emotions were so tangled that she wasn’t sure whether to burst into tears or start hurling the same knick-knacks she’d been eyeing only moments before. She rode that teetering edge, furious at him for broaching the fragile shell she was trying to build around herself, around her heart.

  Now that he’d gained entry to the room, Bill’s expression was as tight and pinched, as Arden’s, his stance just as defensive. He shoved his fists into the pockets of his filthy jeans, waiting for the tirade to begin.

  It was that long stretch of stillness that finally did Arden in, brought her anger back to a peak. Without a word she walked to her suitcase and began to pack again, throwing her belongings recklessly into the case.

  She slammed the lid shut and whirled to face him, the fury and pain in her eyes clashing and melding into something new, something monstrous. “Do you even know what you’ve done?”

  He sighed, long and low.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good idea. Even better than that, I know what I should have done. I should have pushed Stumpy through that goddamned wall for even coming up here to talk to you. Then I should have taken out my gun and shot myself in the goddamn foot, because I sure as shit did it by opening my mouth.” His delivery was slow, thoughtful, and utterly weary.

  His statement formed a picture in her mind and brought a small pained smile to Arden’s face. Her anger drained from her as suddenly as it had come. In its place was a soul-deep fatigue and the renewed urge to leave this town that brought her joy and pain in equal measures.

  “I’d say that about sums it up. You know how to reach me in L.A. I should be back home in a week or so. Please let me know if anything changes in Samantha’s case.” She picked up the case and started for the door,

  “So you’re just leaving? I never figured you for a runner. You’ve always struck me as quite a fighter.”

  If he’d spoken in anything but the same deliberate, reflective tone, Arden would have walked out the door and never looked back. But his quiet observation hit too close to the bone.

  She turned to face him, her suitcase still hanging from her hand, her eyes and posture tired and sad. “What is there to fight for? There’s nothing I can do to help you find Sam or your psychotic. You and your deputies are quite capable of doing your job without me getting in the way. It just took me a little while to figure that out.” Turning again, she blindly reached for the door handle, her eyes filling with tears. She would not, would not cry in front of him.

  He knew too much of her already, and she couldn’t, wouldn’t risk what was left of herself.

  “What about us Arden, are you willing to fight for that?” He was right behind her, so quick and quiet on his feet that she hadn’t even heard him move.

  Arden froze, tears leaking down her cheeks. She grasped wildly at the closest, most convenient excuse for the terror clutching at her heart with ripping, tearing claws, and heard herself calmly ask, “Why should I be, when you’ve made it perfectly clear what kind of woman I am? Remember? I’m just like Samantha. That means I use people for what I can, then move on. Well, Sheriff, I’m moving on.” She reached out to grasp the door handle once again, but was pulled back against Bill’s hard, unyielding chest.

  “Well, I’ll be damned if I let you go without a fight. I may be an asshole, but I’m not an idiot.” He spun her around, his breath catching at the sight of the silent tears weaving down her face. He had never seen anything more heartbreaking. It pushed him so far past what remained of his fury that he couldn’t remember why they were angry with each other.

  “Oh God Arden, I’m so sorry.” Cupping her face in his hands, he lowered his lips to hers, tasting the salt of her tears before she jerked away from him.

  She looked up at him, keeping her features placid even though it felt like a monster earthquake was rolling through her mid
section.

  “Stop. Just let me leave, all right? We’ll chalk this one up to experience. It was nice while it lasted, but it’s over. I’ve got to go back to my life in L.A. and you’ve got a killer to catch and deputies to manage.” She smiled wanly.

  She took a deep breath and turned to the door once again. “Goodbye Bill.”

  Just as she thought he would let her go, let her cloak herself in what was left of her pride, his hand closed over hers on the ornate doorknob.

  “Don’t leave me for being stupid Arden,” he whispered in her ear, the overlapping heat and strength of his hand the only thing restraining her.

  “I know you’d never cheat, it’s just not in you. Seeing him in here made me snap. I’m sorry, please believe me.” With that entreaty he lifted his hand and stepped away from her, giving her the choice to stay or go.

  Bill watched her stand there, her strong shoulders so ably holding the weight of the world. For just a moment he thought she might actually leave, and knew he would never allow that to happen, even if he had to do something as rash as detain her on some goofy charge. She could not leave. It was more than a certainty in his mind. It was fact. Then she turned back to him again, her eyes stormy once more.

  “How could you.” It was not a question, it was a statement. A testament to his stupidity as a male.

  “You ass. You still have no idea why I’m pissed, do you?” She stood there, the suitcase still in her hand, insisting upon maintaining an escape route if it was warranted.

  Bill shifted back a touch, getting comfortable in his stance. He had a feeling this might get ugly.

  “I’d imagine it’s because I all but called you a slut.” He stood there stoically, waiting for the verbal, and possibly physical, barrage. Instead Arden shook her head sadly.

  Bill knew then that he’d failed some vital test.