Vaughn shook his head and looked away with disgust. “That complaint could have made the difference in our search for Catherine and Brandon’s killer.”
“I know you think Wayne did it, Vaughn, but it couldn’t have been him,” Wiley announced. “As much as I’d love to pin it on them myself, they didn’t do it. Even Casey admitted the man who attacked her couldn’t have been Wayne. He’s too big.”
“Then it was Ryan or Blain,” Vaughn interjected.
“We’ve checked their alibis a hundred times,” Wiley replied. “They checked out every time. If you really want to solve the murders, you’ll need to come up with a different suspect.”
†
Vaughn entered his office with a look of disgust and flopped down in his worn chair behind the desk. He leaned back, clasped his hands over his abdomen, and immediately looked at the ceiling.
“What could have been done differently?” Vaughn asked softly aloud to no one. “If Catherine had reported it to me, would it have made a difference? Or were the Remington’s sentenced to death no matter what?”
He shook his head with disgust, leaned forward, and rubbed his already tired eyes.
“The answer’s in her journal,” Vaughn muttered. “I need to go back further.”
Vaughn removed his keys and reached for the upper, right hand drawer. He stared at the drawer and suddenly hesitated. The wood had fresh splinters along the edge. Vaughn tossed his keys aside and pulled open the drawer. The journal was gone!
“No, no!” Vaughn cried out and rummaged through the drawer in vain.
He violently slammed the drawer and pushed his chair away with such force, it struck the wall. Vaughn sprang to his feet and looked around the office while attempting to control his rising temper. His body trembled as he put his hand to his forehead several times while searching for some answer.
“It wasn’t Wiley,” he insisted softly. “He wouldn’t have done this.” He remained deep in thought while scratching his brow. Vaughn suddenly looked up and appeared enraged. “Son-of-a-bitch!” He violently kicked the desk, jolting it several inches. He collapsed into his chair, groaned, and covered his eyes. “Casey’s going to kill me.”
†
It was after two in the morning on Sunday. The tavern’s parking lot was nearly empty, with most of the locals finding their way home after a long night of drinking and rowdy adventures. The few trucks remaining out front belonged to those with no place better to be or the few workers attempting to clean up. Wiley counted the register while Dina swept the floor. She was the last waitress remaining, since it was her turn to close-up with Wiley. A few hard-core drinkers remained at the bar and attempted to talk Wiley into one more round. At this time of night, he no longer acknowledged them. It was the only way to get them to leave. Once Dina finished with the floor, she began straightening chairs. Her attention briefly shifted to the corner table. Dina’s mother sat slumped in her chair with her elbows on the table and attempted to hold up her head with her hand. She fumbled with her drink, the glass stained with red lipstick prints. Olivia dropped the glass and it shattered on the floor, alerting Wiley and the remaining patrons to the drunken woman’s presence. She looked up and appeared unable to focus. For the first time, she stared directly at Dina as her body swayed with intoxication.
“What are you looking at?” Olivia scoffed in a low, slurred voice.
It was possible she didn’t even recognize her own daughter these days, not that it mattered, because she didn’t acknowledge she had a daughter for many years. Dina frowned with disgust and returned to straightening chairs.
“Go home, Dina,” Wiley announced from across the bar.
She looked at him and appeared surprised. “But I still have--”
“I’ve got it,” he replied firmly then offered a tiny smile. “Go on. Get out of here.”
Dina smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Wiley.”
He gave a slight wave. Dina tossed her apron onto the bar, accepted her purse from Wiley from behind the bar, and hurried for the door. She glanced back only briefly. Olivia was now slumped over the table out cold. Dina headed out the door and showed no emotion to the woman’s condition. She walked across the nearly empty parking lot toward her old car parked alongside Wiley’s pickup truck beneath the vapor light. As she approached her car, she saw the back tire was flat. Dina groaned with disgust.
“Great,” she scoffed.
She’d end up having to wait for Wiley to finish his work in order to give her a ride home. It seemed inconceivable that anyone she knew would be up this time of night. Instead of getting home half an hour early, she was going to be at least an hour later. As she approached her car, she visually assessed the damage to the tire. Her eyes strayed to the front tire. It was flat as well! Dina’s eyes widened, and she suddenly appeared horrified. She took two, quick steps backward then turned to run back for the tavern. A man in a mask stood between the two cars, blocking her route to the tavern. Dina gasped and stood frozen while staring at the man. She glanced behind her. Her only option was the nearby woods. They were dark and intimidating. She glanced back at the man as her breathing became heavy. He lunged for her. Dina screamed and ran for the woods beyond her car. Her screams would go unheard. The walls were too thick in the tavern. Her attacker chased after her. Dina ran into the woods without looking back. In the dark, they’d be difficult to navigate, but there was a path somewhere up ahead.
There was the sound of a loud grunt just behind her. Dina uncertainly looked back and suddenly stopped. Her attacker lie on the ground, writhing in agony. She hesitated only a moment then uncertainly headed back for the parking lot and the motionless man. The man in black slowly moved to his feet while clutching his shoulder. Dina jumped with alarm and prepared to turn back for the woods. Her assailant suddenly turned and ran away. Dina watched him run across the parking lot and disappear into the woods across the street. She uncertainly entered the parking lot near her car and scanned the area. Nothing moved. There was no one there, but someone had to be there. Something or someone stopped the man from chasing her. She looked back at the tavern and ran across the parking lot for the door. A police blazer pulled into the parking lot. Dina suddenly stopped and watched the blazer approach. The interior light came on, revealing Deputy Tucker. He looked at Dina through the open window and offered a charming smile.
“Hey, Dina,” he announced. “Just making my rounds. Everything under control tonight?”
She just stared at him with her mouth hanging open. Two seconds sooner, and he would have run over her attacker on the road. She appeared relieved and hurried to his open window.
“You just missed him, Deputy,” she announced while now panting and holding her chest. “This guy slashed my tires then came after me. He took off into the woods that way,” she said while pointing across the street, “just two seconds ago.”
Deputy Tucker appeared stunned and quickly grabbed his cell phone. He pressed the walkie-talkie button. “Mitchell, you out there?”
There was a moment of silence. His phone beeped and Deputy Mitchell’s voice followed. “Yeah, I’m here, Tucker. What’s up?”
“I’m at the tavern,” he announced while glancing at Dina. She was looking more flustered now than before. “Some guy slashed Dina’s tires then attacked her. He’s in the woods north of the tavern. Patrol the area on the other side. I’m having a look-see.”
“Roger,” came Mitchell’s reply. “Should I call the sheriff for backup?”
“Negative,” Tucker replied. “I don’t want to give him too much of a head start. I’ll take Winchester.”
“Copy that,” came Mitchell’s reply.
Tucker jumped out of the truck as Wiley appeared on the tavern porch.
“What’s going on?” Wiley suddenly asked.
Tucker nodded Dina to Wiley. “Stay with Wiley until one of us gets back,” he informed her.
“You can’t go after him alone,” Dina cried out.
“I’m not,” Tucker
announced and removed his rifle from the blazer. “I’m taking Winchester.”
Chapter Eighteen
Dina sat at the bar with the few remaining drunks surrounding her with great interest as Wiley slid a glass of whiskey on the bar before her. She accepted the glass in trembling hands and sipped it. Dina made a face and set it back down. She remained visibly shaken as Wiley and the drunks stared at her.
“He started to chase me,” she said softly and shook her head, “and, next thing I know, he was down. He was just lying there in agony.”
“Think the idiot fell?” Wiley asked.
She shook her head defiantly. “No, he was taken down,” Dina announced firmly. “Someone took him down, and they took him down hard.”
“But you didn’t see anyone?”
“No, no one,” she replied. “It was the strangest thing. Who was he, Wiley? What did he want?”
Wiley uncertainly shook his head. “It was obviously an ambush, being your tires were slashed,” he informed her, “but no one would have any reason to go after you. You haven’t done anything--” He suddenly fell silent.
Dina stared at Wiley as he fidgeted. Her look turned concerned. “You think he came after me because of Casey? Someone wants revenge on her, so they came after me?”
Wiley appeared tense and straightened. “It could be anything, Dina. Let’s not go jumping to conclusions.”
Dina picked up the glass in her trembling hand and drank the entire contents. It was possibly the first alcoholic drink she’d ever had. The tavern door suddenly opened, startling everyone inside. Grey looked around the bar, saw Dina near Wiley, and hurried for her.
“Are you okay?” Grey asked while placing a hand on her shoulder.
Dina suddenly burst into tears, jumped from her chair, and clung to Grey. He uncertainly held her against him as she sobbed into his neck. Her emotional outburst surprised him. He immediately turned soothing and clung to her.
“It’s okay,” Grey said softly. “I’ll look after you.”
Grey looked at Wiley behind the bar. Wiley offered a timid smile and shrugged.
“Thanks for calling the house, Wiley,” Grey said gently.
“Sorry to wake you,” Wiley replied.
“I wasn’t sleeping anyway,” he responded. “I’m going to take her back to my house. The boys can wait until morning to talk to her. Give them the message.”
Wiley nodded. Grey pried Dina from his body and guided her from the tavern with his arm securely over her shoulder.
†
Grey’s jeep pulled up to the Remington farmhouse a little before three in the morning. The farm seemed particularly quiet, although several lights were on both in and outside the house. Dina got out the passenger side of the jeep and appeared almost sedate. That shot of whiskey and near exhaustion appeared to take its toll on her. The sound of thundering hoof beats were heard. Both looked across the farm toward the barn. Casey rode her large gray horse across the driveway at a fast gait and slid to a stop several feet before them. Her horse pranced around excitedly while she stared at both with surprise and concern.
“What’s going on?” Casey suddenly asked.
Dina stared at Casey on her horse but was too tired to speak. Grey frowned while placing his arm around Dina’s shoulder and pulled her to his side.
“Someone attacked Dina as she was leaving the tavern tonight,” he replied then gave her an odd, nearly scolding look. “Where the hell were you?”
“Attacked?” Casey suddenly demanded with a shattered look in her eyes that quickly turned to anger. “What do you mean attacked?”
“She’s okay,” Grey insisted. “She wasn’t hurt, but the guy got away.”
“Where?” Casey growled as her eyes narrowed and her grip tightened on the reins.
Storm’s massive body pranced as he snorted to her rising emotion. The horse was prepared to explode on her command, almost like a racehorse in the starting gate.
“You never mind where,” Grey snapped. “Put the horse away and get your ass inside. Let the law handle this.”
“Let the law handle this?” Casey suddenly cried out. Storm slung his head in response and reared slightly. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”
“Yes,” Grey scoffed. “Your friend needs you. Make the right decision for once.”
Casey stared at Grey with a wildly unpredictable look then glanced at Dina’s sedate condition. She groaned softly and relaxed her grip on the reins. As her body sagged, the gray horse relaxed. She leapt off the horse’s back without using the stirrups and headed for the barn, leaving the reins around the horse’s neck. Storm turned and followed her without prompting. Grey guided Dina toward the house.
“Casey will draw you a nice, hot bath in the jetted tub,” Grey informed her with a soothing tone as they approached the porch. “And I’m going to make you a special hot toddy to settle your nerves.”
“Thanks, Grey,” she said softly. “I don’t know how to repay you.”
“You’re family, Dina,” he replied. “We look out for one another.”
†
Casey was once again alone in the cemetery. Several weeping willow trees were dripping with early morning dew and the ground was wet from the earlier downpour. She uncertainly looked around and her eyes gravitated to the two headstones several feet away. They were overgrown with vegetation. She approached the headstones and removed the plant life covering the name on the first one. She stared helplessly at her parents’ names engraved in the whitish gray marble. It was a grim reminder that her mother and father were still dead. She allowed the grief to consume her for only a moment before focusing her attention on the second headstone. Grey was alive. She knew he had survived. Why was there a second headstone? She removed the vegetation to reveal the name engraved on front. Dina Crawford. Casey suddenly gasped and jumped away from the headstone. Her heart pounded roughly in her chest. She suddenly felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her lower abdomen. Casey clutched her abdomen and looked at the blood seeping between her fingers. She lifted her bloodied hand as it trembled and stared at it. She looked around with fright.
“Dina!” she cried out, but there was no one there. No one answered.
A faint, muffled voice could be heard. It sounded like Dina screaming, but it sounded so far away. She looked around and attempted to locate from where her voice was emitting. Casey suddenly tensed and looked at the grave. She uncertainly approached Dina’s headstone, knelt down, and listened. Dina was screaming from her casket! Casey cried out with alarm and began ripping through the ground with her fingers.
“I’m coming, Dina!” she cried out as tears streaked her face. “I’ll get you out, I swear! I’ll save you!”
“She’s not in there,” came a familiar, soothing male voice.
Casey suddenly looked up from where she knelt before the grave and stared at the shadow of a man standing before her. She stared at him and tried to make out his face. He had come to her once before in a dream she vaguely remembered. She remembered his voice but still didn’t know who he was. Dina’s screaming from the grave ceased and all was quiet. Casey looked from the grave to the shadowy figure standing over her. She slowly straightened. He extended his hand to her. She eagerly accepted his hand. She remembered the warmth of his touch from before. His touch soothed her and her anguish vanished instantly. She moved into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. She couldn’t believe how good it felt being in his arms.
“I want to take care of you,” he whispered softly while holding her against him. “Let me take care of you.”
She slowly lifted her head and attempted to look into his eyes. Despite his shadowy appearance, she wanted this man. It didn’t matter who he was. She wanted to feel his body against hers as he made love to her. He lowered his head to hers. She strained to meet the lips she couldn’t see. A blinding light suddenly hurt her eyes. Casey slowly woke and looked across her bedroom at Ruger standing before the large window as sunshine poured in through the op
en curtains. He looked at her and grinned. She loved the man, but she felt an overwhelming desire to hit him for ruining her sexually fulfilling dream.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Ruger announced a little too cheerfully.
She groaned and pulled the covers over her head. “Go bother someone else,” she scoffed lowly.
She wanted to finish her lustful dream with her mystery man in the cemetery. The covers were suddenly pulled back, causing her to jump. Ruger hovered over her and smiled in an almost sinister manner.
“We have matters to discuss,” he informed her.
“Can’t they wait until the crack of noon?”
“No, they can’t,” he replied firmly then suddenly turned serious and commanding. “We need to discuss what we’re going to do about your friend.”
Casey looked at the clock. It wasn’t even seven! She groaned and slowly sat up. She was moderately disheveled from what few hours of sleep she’d actually gotten. There was no point to ignoring Ruger; he wasn’t going to go away. He was annoying that way.
“What do you suggest?” Casey muttered. “Stuff her in the wood chipper and press puree?”
“You’re disturbingly morbid in the morning,” he casually replied while sitting on the edge of the bed near her.
“Fine,” she scoffed. “We’ll discuss Dina.” Casey flopped back down on the bed and groaned softly. “And then I’m installing a lock on my bedroom door.”
Chapter Nineteen
It was 8:00 A.M. Sunday morning and only a few hours since Dina was attacked at the tavern. Despite the early hour and lack of sleep, Dina sat on the porch in a pair of Casey’s borrowed shorts and t-shirt. She hugged her knees to her chest while her fixed gaze overlooked the pastures surrounding the Remington farmhouse. She looked exhausted from little to no sleep last night after her close call. The screen door opened. Casey walked onto the porch, eyed her quiet friend, and sat on the porch railing facing her.
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