by Karis Walsh
Billie didn’t panic at first. Maybe Merissa was moving the van closer to their stalls to make loading equipment and horses easier. But then she caught a glimpse of the driver in the van’s rearview mirror. It definitely wasn’t Merissa. Billie couldn’t make out the guy’s features under his low-slung baseball cap, and she ran faster to try to catch up and see some identifying characteristic. She glanced from side to side as she and Misty ran across the lot, hoping to see Merissa standing somewhere, as perplexed as Billie was to see her van driving away.
The van drove through the exit and turned left. Merissa was obviously not in the parking lot. The two facts rolled through Billie’s mind like a wave of seasickness, and she turned Misty in a tight circle and hurried back to the stalls.
“Merissa?” she called as she came down the barn aisle. “Merissa, where are you? Rachel, Cal, I need you.”
Rachel and Cal rushed out of two adjoining stalls. “What’s going on?” Rachel asked. “I thought Merissa was with you.”
“She was heading toward the van.” Billie gasped for breath. “By the time I got to the parking lot, it was pulling out. Driven by a guy in a red baseball cap. I need to follow them, try to find her.”
Rachel pulled out her phone and snapped out orders. “Billie, take my truck, and Cal take the car. Try to find the van. I’ll have the exits closed until I can talk to everyone here, find out if anyone saw what happened.”
Billie locked Misty in a stall and grabbed Rachel’s keys from her. The three of them scattered, and Billie dashed back to the parking lot and jumped in Rachel’s pickup. Rachel was already at the gate talking to the attendant, and they motioned for her to drive on the grass and around the cars and trailers waiting in line to go home. Billie turned left and drove in the direction the van had taken, but she wasn’t sure where to go once her street intersected with the highway. She followed a hunch and turned west, driving as fast as she could make the old truck go, scanning every side road and exit for a sign of the van.
This was hopeless. Her hands were shaking, and she gripped the steering wheel tighter to try to control them. Her mind swung between hopeful scenarios and horrific ones. Maybe Merissa had run into a friend and stopped to talk. She could be back at the barn right now, wondering where Billie was and why there was such a fuss at the gate.
Or maybe whoever had killed Dennis had come after Merissa, too. And had waited for the one moment today when no one else was with her.
Billie drove a few miles before her second thoughts grew too insistent to ignore. She should have gotten onto I-5. But going north or south? She pulled off the road and sat on the shoulder, slowing her breath because she felt close to hyperventilating. The physical sensations were similar to the ones she experienced in her nightmares, but this wasn’t a bad dream. This was real and happening right now. Merissa was gone.
Her phone buzzed and she dropped it on the floor of the truck when her shaking fingers tried to answer. She leaned over and picked it up again.
“Hello? Merissa? Rachel?”
“Hey, Billie.”
Merissa’s soft voice was at once wonderful to hear and terrifying. “Merissa. Where the hell are you? What happened?”
“I’m at a gas station with Mariposa. Please come get me. I’ll explain everything once you’re here.”
The exit number Merissa gave her was two more miles down the road. Billie called Rachel while she drove, letting her know Merissa was all right. She pulled into the station and put the truck in park before she jumped out of the cab and ran over to where Merissa stood with her black mare.
She grabbed Merissa in a tight hug and held her without speaking for a long time. Her whole body trembled with relief as she held Merissa in her embrace, but a separate part of her seemed to back away and watch from the outside. The effort to find closure after Mike’s death had taken just about every ounce of her strength and sanity. She still suffered from nightmares and sadness. Living mere minutes with the realization that Merissa might have been harmed or worse had been all Billie could bear. What would she ever do if something really did happen to Merissa? She wouldn’t survive it.
She stepped away. “What happened? How did you and Mariposa get here?”
Merissa sagged against her horse and told Billie the entire story, from her ride in the van, to her escape, to the signs along her escape route. Once she finished, Billie had to make an effort to relax her clenched fists. She wanted to kill Edwin Lemaine for putting Merissa through this. She wanted to arrest him and let him rot in prison. Do something. But his brazen way of abducting Merissa and letting her know who he was and how much power he had made her feel sick with dread. He was confident. Overly so, or had he kept his own hands so clean he knew Dennis’s murder and Merissa’s kidnapping would never be tied to him?
“Take me where this happened,” Billie said. Merissa frowned, obviously not comfortable returning to the crime scene, but she gave a brief nod. They loaded Mariposa into Cal’s trailer and drove away from the highway. Billie called Rachel again with the details Merissa had given her, and then she tucked her phone in her pocket and took Merissa’s hand, holding it tightly.
“I saw you leave the barn aisle,” Merissa said quietly, looking out the window as she spoke. “I wanted to find you, not to go off on my own.”
“I know, Merissa,” Billie said, squeezing her hand. “I went the long way out there because I was looking for suspicious people. I didn’t know one was waiting for you at the van. I was supposed to be protecting you and I failed.”
“No,” Merissa said, turning to face Billie. “I did. I was alone, even though you told me not to be.”
Billie sighed. “Lemaine had obviously prepared for this show of power and he wouldn’t have left your kidnapping to chance. The guy who abducted you might have taken advantage of you being alone, but he probably had another plan in place in case we were together every second. I feel guilty about it, but it might have happened no matter how careful we were.”
She didn’t add her suspicion that Lemaine’s plan for the abduction might have included more physical force that had proved unnecessary since Merissa walked into the van on her own. Maybe they were lucky things happened the way they did. He’d likely already killed at least once. Another body on the way to getting his message across to Merissa might not have bothered him.
Billie parked on the opposite side of the road when they came to the gravel road where Merissa had raced Mariposa to safety. She didn’t want to destroy any possible evidence by driving over tracks and footprints, but she doubted forensics would turn up anything useful. Lemaine seemed too careful and too far removed from his own crimes to leave clues behind.
She and Merissa waited in silence for the detectives to arrive. Merissa seemed to have collapsed inward, and Billie couldn’t blame her. The trauma she’d experienced wouldn’t just disappear, especially since she was still recovering from being a witness to Dennis’s death. Billie was doing her best to deal with one thing at a time, as each step presented itself. Step one, talk to the detective. Step two, walk down the road with Merissa to see where the signs had been posted, and discover they were—unsurprisingly—no longer there. Step three, wait while Merissa gave her statement. Step four, call Don. Step five, drive her back to her farm.
Billie was reminded of the first day she had met Merissa. She had found her in the precinct, hunched in the uncomfortable chair, looking diminished somehow because of the ordeal she had been through. Merissa wore the same expression now, but Billie wasn’t fooled into believing that Merissa was either weak or defeated. She had simply been through too many difficult things to bear. So had Billie.
Just as Merissa slid back into her role of victim for the moment, Billie once again became the person who could calm and distract scared people. She talked about the polo match, reliving certain shots and fouls, until Merissa joined in. Merissa seemed to spark to life a little bit while they talked about her sport and the day’s game.
As soon as they drove up
to the barn at Merissa’s place, Jean-Yves came out to hug her and to lead Mariposa into the barn. Billie and Merissa were alone, for the moment.
Billie took both of Merissa’s hands in hers and faced her. “Cal will take your other horses to her barn for the night. You should be able to pick up your van by the afternoon, and you can get the horses whenever you’re ready. Lieutenant Hargrove will be by to talk to you tomorrow morning.”
Merissa nodded. “Okay. Why are you telling me all of this now?”
Billie sighed and leaned her forehead against Merissa’s. “Because I won’t be here tomorrow. I’m going back to my place tonight.”
Merissa gave her a confused frown. “Do you think I’m safe? After all this time being guarded and nothing happening, why are you leaving me alone the moment something does go wrong?”
“Because I’m too close.” Billie looked over her shoulder and saw a car coming up the driveway. “I’m not keeping you safe like I should. You need someone who will focus on your safety, not on you .”
“But you said Lemaine might have made this happen even if we hadn’t been apart for those few minutes.” She gripped Billie’s hands tightly.
“Maybe.” Billie shifted uncomfortably and pulled her hands away. “I guess the real problem is me. I can’t handle the thought of something bad happening to you. I almost lost it today, and I can’t go through this kind of loss again. Not after Mike. Not after getting so close to you.”
Merissa opened her mouth to speak, but the car Billie had seen parked next to them, and Don got out.
“Did I hear that someone needs a bodyguard?” he asked, pulling a small suitcase off the backseat.
“Hey, Don. Thank you for coming. Merissa, Don will be watching you until Hargrove comes by tomorrow. She’ll make whatever arrangements need to be done. I’ll grab my stuff out of the apartment and get out of here so the two of you can get some sleep.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Merissa was tired of waiting for Billie to come to her senses and come back to her. The first day after her abduction had been spent talking to detectives and settling her horses back in their stalls after Jean-Yves collected them from Cal’s farm. Hargrove told her they hadn’t found any evidence of foul play in the van or along the trail. The threatening signs had either been taped in place or attached with thin nails that left no mark as proof of their existence. For all the police had discovered, there was nothing to prove that Merissa hadn’t driven the van away from the farm herself, and then claimed she had been kidnapped. Hargrove had seemed to believe her story, but she warned Merissa that without a shred of evidence, her charges against Lemaine wouldn’t amount to anything.
The following two days had been spent with Don as a constant shadow. He had proved to be a dutiful bodyguard, staying within ten feet of her at all times. He followed her around the barn, into her kitchen, out on the trails. She had moved back to the main house the night Billie left, and he took up residence on her couch. He was sympathetic to her cause, but repeated what Hargrove had said. Without anything besides her statement, no one would convict Lemaine of foul play.
Like Hargrove and Cal, Don seemed to believe that Merissa’s frustration was due to the stalled investigation. She was angry that he’d get away with what he had done to her, but she was more upset about Billie leaving than anything to do with Edwin Lemaine. She was angry because Billie had given up on her when things got too hard to handle. She was even more upset with herself because she had been admittedly relieved the first night. She was exhausted by this whole ordeal, and part of her wanted to give up on her job and her quest to find Dennis’s killer and to go back to the way life had been before. Easy. Simple.
Lonely.
As much as she wanted to reset her life and be comfortably alone on her farm with her horses once again, she found herself aching for Billie. For her touch and her laughter. For her annoying way of giving advice and her bad habit of usually being right. Merissa had once believed that her most important goals were to figure out who had shot Dennis and to continue his original and excellent work in urban renewal. Now, she wasn’t as convinced about those goals. Maybe Billie was worth her time and energy in a way nothing else was.
Once she decided to go to her, she had to find a way to get past the ever-vigilant Don. She knew the key to distracting him was his pinto mare, Fancy. She arranged to take the pair on a trail ride, and she had Aggie towering over little Fancy in the grooming area. Don was currying her and singing some sort of lullaby under his breath. Merissa went into the tack room—about as far away as Don let her go without coming to hunt her down—and she kicked over a stool with a loud crash.
Don was at the door before she had a chance to leave the room. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I climbed on the stool to reach that storage container and fell,” Merissa said. She limped across the room and winced. “I can’t ride like this. I’ll need to soak my foot before it starts to swell.”
“I’ll put the horses away and help you back to the house,” Don said. “We’ll have our trail ride another time.”
“No,” Merissa protested a little too firmly. “I mean, I hate to have you miss out on a ride because of me. You haven’t had a chance to take Fancy out since you got here, and I’m sure you’re dying to exercise her. I have Epsom salts and a bucket right here, and Jean-Yves is cleaning stalls in the next aisle. I’ll stay here and soak my ankle while you go on a short trail ride.”
Don looked at Fancy, obviously tempted by the offer. Too easy, Merissa thought.
“You promise you’ll stay here?”
“I’ll be safe,” Merissa said with a vague nod. She wasn’t really lying. She’d be safest when she was with Billie again.
Don sighed. “Half hour. That’s all. Let me help you get over to a chair. You’re sure—”
Merissa waved him off. “I’m sure. Just enjoy your ride.”
She waited in the tack room until she heard him lead Fancy out the back door of the barn. She felt only a little guilty as she jumped up and scampered back to the house and got in her car. She couldn’t see Fancy near the trailhead, so she and Don must already be on their way. She put her car in gear and drove up to the main road and back to Tacoma.
Merissa felt uneasy as she parked around the corner from where Dennis had been shot. She had felt brave at home, but now she was anxious to reach the safety of Billie’s apartment. She stepped out of her car and shut the door as a silver car pulled up behind her. She looked at the driver and halted in surprise. Don. He gave her a wink and motioned for her to hurry into the apartment building. She stared at him for a moment longer, and then walked quickly to the door. She had underestimated him, and he had obviously let her think she was sneaking out. She smiled as she hurried up the stairs. She clearly had his approval as the right person for Billie. Now to convince Billie herself…
She paused on the second floor landing to let a tall dark-haired guy pass her, but he stopped next to her instead of continuing on. She stood her ground, even though she wanted to back away from him.
“I saw you in the paper,” he said. “The shooting a few weeks ago. You were in the car, weren’t you.”
Merissa nodded slowly.
“You told the cops it was my car.”
Shit. Merissa debated whether to run up to Billie or down to Don. Neither one seemed to be a viable option since the guy in front of her was blocking her way.
“I didn’t see who—”
“I didn’t do it. I’m real sorry about your friend, and I’m sorry if it was my car. But I didn’t shoot him.”
Merissa’s throat was dry, but she managed another nod. “Okay. Well, thank you.” She cleared her throat.
“Name’s Carlyle,” the man said. “You here to see Billie?”
“Yes,” Merissa said.
“I’ve been worried about her. She isn’t the same since she got back.” He narrowed his eyes and stared at her. “Do you know somethin’ about that?”
�
�What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s quiet. Sad. Not our normal Billie.” He stepped aside to let her pass. “You go on and cheer her up.”
“I’ll do my best,” Merissa said, slipping past him and walking down the hallway. Her hands were shaking and she wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Would she always be expecting guns and violence now? She hated how watching Dennis get shot had turned her into someone filled with fear. She had to face down her fear right now, though, and get Billie to come back to her. She knocked loudly on the door and heard the creak of floorboards through the paper-thin walls as someone walked toward her.
Billie answered the door, and the flash of expression on Billie’s face gave Merissa hope. Billie was happy to see her, no matter how much she tried to hide her pleasure behind a mask of indifference.
“Merissa.”
“Can I come in?”
Billie nodded and moved out of the way. She looked down the hall as Merissa came inside. “Where’s Don? He’s supposed to be guarding you.”
“He’s outside the building,” Merissa said. “I tried to trick him into going on a trail ride so I could come here and see you, but he saw through my plan and followed me here.”
Billie smiled briefly. “He looks easy to fool, but he isn’t. What are you doing here, Merissa?”
“I came to see you.” Merissa took a deep breath and stepped toward Billie. “I miss you.”
Billie closed her eyes. “I miss you, too. But it’s—”
“I know,” Merissa said. “It’s too hard. You can’t face loss again. You want to protect yourself. But you’ve got it all wrong, Billie. What we had together was easy and natural and comfortable. The hard parts came when we tried to push each other away.”
Billie didn’t answer, and Merissa pressed on. “We each have learned to be self-sufficient and detached from other people, and being that way might mean less chance of loss, but it also means one hundred percent chance of loneliness. I’d rather have you than the security of all those barriers I’ve put around me.”