Wild Hearts

by Sharon Sala

  By the time Trey left town for his mother’s house, he had more than food on his mind. All day he’d kept thinking of Dallas. He hadn’t heard from her and wondered if she’d found anything in the house that would help the case. If he hadn’t stayed so busy at the office, he would have been hard-pressed not to call her just to hear her voice. But the day was over, and tonight he was not on call. He intended to enjoy every minute of the evening, even though the weather was turning nasty.

  Halfway to the farm, it began to mist and the sky looked like more was imminent. He stepped on the gas, anxious to get to the house before the weather worsened. He turned on the windshield wipers and turned up the heater, thankful he’d thought to bring a jacket.

  By the time he reached the farm, the mist had turned into a drizzle. He jumped out on the run, leaped over the front steps and onto the porch only seconds before the sky opened up.

  “That’s timing,” he said, laughing at himself, and then opened the door and walked in. “I’m here!” he yelled, and hung his hat and jacket on the hall tree.

  “We’re in the kitchen!” Betsy called back.

  Trina was at the stove and his mom was at the cabinet when he walked in. Trina’s boyfriend, Lee Daniels, was at the table nursing a beer, and gave him a quick nod and a grin.

  “Birthday boy is here,” Lee said.

  The women stopped what they were doing to give him a hug.

  “Happy birthday, big brother,” Trina said, and kissed him on the right cheek.

  “Happy birthday, son,” Betsy said, and kissed his left. “Your presents are on the sideboard.”

  Trey grinned. “You shouldn’t have.”

  Trina poked him in the ribs. “That’s what I told Mom, but she said I had to.”

  “Trina Lee Jakes, that’s uncalled for,” Betsy grumbled.

  Trey grinned.

  Trina rolled her eyes.

  “I always knew you were her favorite,” she said.

  “Oh, no way, little sister. Sam is her favorite, and she’ll tell you so herself. Am I right, Mom?”

  Betsy looked over her shoulder. “Of course Sam is my favorite. He’s the only one who really left home.”

  They all burst into laughter as Trey got himself a beer. Then he picked up his presents and sat down, chose one and began with the card. The first one was from Lee.

  “Hey, man, you didn’t have to buy me a gift,” Trey said.

  Lee shrugged. “I heard about what a great meal this was going to be. I thought if I sweetened the pot a little it might get me some seconds.”

  Trey opened the package and found a half dozen of his favorite fishing lures.

  “These are really nice! Thanks a lot.”

  “You’re welcome. Trina put the bug in my ear.”

  “She’s my favorite sister,” Trey said.

  “I’m your only sister,” Trina muttered.

  Trey arched an eyebrow and picked up the second package. It was from Trina.

  “Since we’re home and she’s standing within spitting distance of me, I’m gonna assume it’s not rigged to blow.”

  Trina giggled.

  Trey opened the box and pulled out a new wallet.

  “Trina! Thanks, honey. I needed this,” he said.

  “Yeah, we know. You sewed your old one back together with fishing line.”

  Trey grinned. “I’m into recycling. What can I say?” He was still smiling when he picked up the last one. “And this one is from Mom.”

  “Hurry up and open it,” Trina begged. “She wouldn’t tell me what it was, and I want to see, too.”

  Betsy was standing with her arms folded across her breasts, listening to all the teasing and wishing their father were still alive to see what great people they’d grown up to be.

  Trey winked at his mom as he tore into the package, then he opened the lid and froze.

  “Oh, hell. Oh, Mom.”

  Lee leaned over and looked in the box. “Damn, that’s a Colt .45. Is that pearl inlay on the handle?”

  Trina was in tears. “It was Daddy’s. I haven’t seen it in years.”

  Betsy wrapped her arms around Trey’s neck and gave him a big hug.

  “He would want you to have this, Trey. Happy birthday, son.”

  Trey turned and hugged her close.

  “Thank you so much, but you know Sam’s not gonna be happy about this.”

  “Sam already knows. It was his idea,” Betsy said.

  “This means a lot to me,” Trey said softly.

  “Your dad would be really proud, knowing you turned to law enforcement, too,” Betsy said.

  For a moment the room was silent, all of them thinking about Beau Jakes, an eighteen-year veteran with the West Virginia Highway Patrol, who’d been shot and killed beneath an overpass when he’d stopped to write up a speeder.

  A loud ding sounded behind them.

  “That’s the casserole,” Betsy said. “Your birthday supper is officially ready. Trina, help me get food on the table. Lee, you’re assigned to putting ice in the glasses for sweet tea. Trey, please clean the wrapping paper off the table and grab that big metal trivet and put it in the middle.”

  No one argued. They were used to taking orders from Betsy Jakes.

  It wasn’t until they got to dessert that Trey brought up Dallas’s name.

  “Hey, Mom, while you’re cutting the cake, would you please cut a big slice and wrap it up? I promised Dallas I’d bring her some before I went home tonight.”

  Betsy smiled. “I sure will, and that’s real sweet of you, honey. I went to see her today. I took her some chicken potpie and that marinated salad she always liked.”

  Trey stifled a pang of jealousy that his mom could go see her so much more easily than he could.

  “How was she?”

  “Oh, about like you’d think. We both had ourselves a cry and probably felt better for it afterward. I dreaded going. It still feels to me like I’m somehow attached to what happened to her father.”

  Trey frowned, remembering what shape she’d been in yesterday. She’d gone from screaming uncontrollably to almost comatose by the time he’d found her.

  “No, Mom. No. You found him. You did not kill him.”

  Betsy sighed. “I know, but I can’t describe how blue I feel. It’s the same sad I had after Connie died. I know they said she was driving, but I was there—we were all there—only we lived and she died. Just like now. Dick is dead, and I was there. He’s dead, and I’m still alive. There’s a tragic connection between the four of us that will never go away.”

  Lee frowned.

  “Who’s Connie?”

  “Oh, right. I forgot you wouldn’t know anything about my sordid past,” Betsy said.

  Trey and Trina both yelled at her at once, “Mom! Your past is not sordid.”

  Lee looked embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  Betsy shook her head. “Oh, Lee, don’t worry. You didn’t do anything, and it’s not really a secret. You’re just too young to remember. It happened the night I graduated high school. All through school there were four of us kids who hung out. At first we were just friends. Dick and Paul were buddies. Connie and I were best friends. As we got older, we sort of paired up into boyfriend-girlfriend. Dick Phillips was sweet on Connie Bartlett. I was sweet on Paul.”

  “That’s Paul Jackson. Mr. Jackson, who owns Jackson’s Auto Repair,” Trina added.

  Betsy nodded. “Right after our high school graduation, the four of us took off in Connie’s brand-new pink Cadillac. What happened after that is still a mystery. They found the car wrecked three hours later. Connie was dead. The three of us were critical. No one expected any of us to survive, but we did. Only we have no memory of where we went or what happened to cause the wreck. They told us our blood alcohol level was off the charts, but we didn’t even remember drinking. Now Dick is gone, too, and I’m sorry I got off on such an ugly subject and ruined the party.”

  “The party isn’t ruined,” Trey said. �
��We have you, and we have cake. Nothing bad about that.”

  Betsy blinked back a few tears, and then laughed.

  “Four pieces of Italian cream cake, coming up.”

  “And one for Dallas.”

  “Yes, and one for Dallas, which reminds me, I offered to stand in as the hostess at her house for the meal. She’s set the memorial service for 10:00 a.m. day after tomorrow, so I’m roping all of you into helping move tables and chairs, and anything else that might need doing at the dinner.”

  Trina nodded. “I can do it, but Lee has to work.”

  “I’ll be there, too,” Trey said. “We’ll make it happen.”

  “Thanks, all of you. My life would be very empty without my babies...even if you’ve all gone and grown up on me.”

  * * *

  Dallas was still going through tax receipts and files of farm-related invoices, hoping to find something that would give her a clue as to where her dad’s big money was supposed to come from, but so far she’d had no luck.

  It had been raining since before seven o’clock, and it was now after nine. She wondered if Trey was still coming by and secretly hoped he was. This would always be home, but it was incredibly lonely in this house without her father.

  She’d gone through the last file of receipts and was putting them back when she saw car lights flash across the back wall. Trey was here! She tossed the rest of the stuff in the box, shoved it in a corner and then took the band out of her hair and combed her fingers through it to shake it out. The almost headache she’d been nursing began to dissipate the moment that band was released, and she made a mental note to take her hair down when she wasn’t working outside. When she ran to answer the knock moments later, she did it without thinking why she was suddenly so happy he was there.

  “Come in,” she said. “I was about to give up on you.”

  “I don’t go back on my word,” he said, resisting the urge to kiss her. “Here’s your cake. Mom says hello and hopes you enjoy it.”

  Dallas smiled as she took the little bag.

  “I love this, and you know it. Will you help me eat it?”

  “Oh, Lord, no. I can’t eat another bite,” he said. “But don’t let me stop you. You get a fork. I’ll get something to drink and join you.”

  “I have stuff to tell you,” she said, as she grabbed a fork and slid the cake onto a plate.

  “Want to sit in here?” he asked, as he got a cold pop from the refrigerator.

  “Let’s go back to the living room. I have a spot already warmed up on the couch.”

  He followed with the Dr Pepper, happy with his view of her backside. She was tall and leggy, with a very shapely butt, and he ached, thinking of how good it felt to make love to her.

  She sat, took the first bite and rolled her eyes. “Mmm, just as good as I remembered.”

  Trey watched her for a few moments before it hit him what was different. She wasn’t on the verge of tears.

  “You said you had stuff to tell me,” he prompted.

  She took another bite and then set the cake aside. A blast of wind rattled the storm door and made the damper pop inside the fireplace.

  “Sounds like that storm is getting worse,” she said.

  “Are you uneasy here?” he asked.

  “Not really. It’s lonely here now, but it’s still home, and I’ve learned a lot of new stuff today about Dad. I’ve already passed the info on to Sheriff Osmond, but I want you to know, too.”

  “Did you find out something in your Dad’s papers?”

  “Yes, and I came so close to calling and crying on your shoulders. As it turned out, I’m glad I waited.”

  He set his pop aside and leaned forward. “Tell me.”

  “Dad mortgaged the farm to put me through school, and I never knew it.”

  Trey was shocked. The land had been in the family forever, free and clear. “You’re kidding!”

  “No, and I wish I were. I would have happily worked my way through college. If they’d only said they couldn’t afford it, I would have figured another way to make it happen.” She looked at him, and then looked away. “I was so dead set on getting out of Mystic, I didn’t pay close enough attention to the people who loved me.”

  Trey didn’t comment. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t start a fight.

  “So he owed money on the farm,” Trey said. “Lots of people are in debt and don’t kill themselves.”

  “Did you know Dad quit raising tobacco a couple of years ago?”

  Trey frowned. “I don’t guess I did. That’s not something we ever raised, so I wouldn’t have necessarily noticed if someone else quit growing it, especially since I didn’t come out here anymore.”

  She wouldn’t let herself think why that had happened. She felt guilty enough as it was.

  “Well, I didn’t know, either, and it’s worse on me, because this was home, he was my dad and I was so caught up in my world I never knew how his was changing. I wouldn’t have known any of this if Mr. Woodley hadn’t come by for eggs this morning.”

  “So he’s the one who told you about the tobacco.”

  “Yes, but that’s not all. I called the bank. Mr. Standish told me that Dad was two years in arrears and we’re losing the farm in twenty-seven days.”

  Trey took a deep breath and then shoved his fingers through his hair in frustration.

  “Sweet Lord, Dallas. Are you saying you think that’s why—”

  “Oh, hell, no,” she said. “I make good money, and he knew it. I have three times the amount in my savings account that he would have needed to pay off the loan, and a decent amount in my checking. I would have paid it off with a smile, and he would have known it. He might have been a little embarrassed, but he would never have thought it was the end of the world, or that he’d done something so unforgivable that he had to be too ashamed to face me. He would never have lost the farm.”

  “Then what? I don’t get the big revelation. If anything, the debt makes a stronger case that your dad did commit suicide, despite what you think.”

  “Mr. Woodley had something else to tell me. He didn’t believe Dad killed himself because he said Dad hurt his shoulder pretty badly last week. Badly enough that he was barely able to use it and was talking about going to the chiropractor this week. Mr. Woodley went down to the barn and looked at where Dad’s body was found. He said there was no physical way Dad could have hanged himself.”

  Trey jumped to his feet and began to pace.

  “This is exactly the kind of evidence you need to make your case. If the coroner can verify that injury when he does the autopsy, this will pretty much end the supposition that it was suicide.”

  Dallas nodded. “That’s what Osmond said. But there’s one more thing. Woodley said Dad wasn’t bothered by the loan coming due because he said he was coming into big money very soon, enough to get him completely out of debt, with some to spare.”

  “Money from where?” Trey asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve been looking through his papers all evening, trying to find something that explains it.”

  “If you can figure that out, if you can prove that money wasn’t an issue for him, and the coroner can verify the shoulder injury, then we can officially say we have a killer in Mystic. The downside of that is that the big money your Dad claimed was coming could be connected to the killer. In a way it makes everything even more mysterious—and maybe more dangerous.”

  Six

  “It also means there’s no way this was impulsive. Impulsive is shooting. Beating. Not this. Someone had to bring a rope, someone who knew the layout of the barn and wanted people to think it was a suicide. The question is, why?”

  Trey frowned. “In a place this small, it’s almost inevitable that your dad knew his killer. The only reason they would have been in the barn together is if your dad believed the killer had come to buy eggs. He doesn’t advertise, so the killer has to be a local. Your dad turned his back because he trusted the killer, and that brin
gs up something else I noticed when I first saw him hanging.”

  “What?” Dallas asked.

  “The back of his clothes was dirty, but the front wasn’t.”

  “You mean muddy? Or dusty?”

  “Very dusty, but only the back.”

  Dallas frowned. “So how did that happen?”

  “I don’t know... Maybe someone grabbed him from behind. He would have fallen on his back and—”

  Dallas moaned. “If his shoulder was bad, he wouldn’t even have been able to fight back. The pain might have even made him black out.”

  “Someone could even have thrown the noose over his head from behind and yanked him backward,” Trey said. “He would have choked, maybe been stunned by the blow to the back of his head when he fell.”

  “I’m going to be sick,” Dallas mumbled.

  She flew down the hall and into the bathroom, and threw up until she was shaking. When she flushed the toilet and turned around, Trey was standing at the sink with a wet cloth in his hand and a look of contrition on his face.

  “Damn it, Dallas. I am so sorry. I got caught up in trying to figure out the how of it and forgot it was your father we were talking about.”

  She took the wet cloth, grateful for the cold shock on her face. Then she rinsed out her mouth and sat down on the closed lid of the commode.

  “Don’t apologize, Trey. I’ve already been through the hows and whys of it a hundred times in my head. Once I accepted that he was murdered, I was under no misconception that it was painless. I got carried away with the scenarios myself. The nausea surprised me. I thought the shock had finally passed. I was wrong.”

  Trey still felt bad. “Look, I’ve screwed up your night enough. I’m going to leave and let you get some rest. Just be grateful for the fact that your instincts were right.”

  Dallas didn’t think. She just got up and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “I’m grateful for you.”

  Trey pulled her close, his voice gruff with emotion as he said, “When you hurt, I bleed, and time hasn’t changed that. Come on, so you can lock the door behind me.”

  She followed him into the living room, then stood in the doorway as he walked out into the rainy night.