Vetted Again

by K'Anne Meinel

  “You and your wife are going to turn that trust over to me and my brother,” he said, a gleam in his eye. “I’m going to take yer brat with me as collateral. You just write me a check, and when it clears you’ll get him back.”

  Allyssa could tell by the way he was holding Erin that Peter had never held a baby. Erin was upset. His nice, secure, little nap had been interrupted. She was sure it would only be a moment before the other two started crying. “It doesn’t work that way,” she began, and she could see he wouldn’t believe her. He figured since they owned the ranch they were rich, and that trust had a lot of money in it, right? “It isn’t worth–” she began but knew he didn’t believe her. She stopped and stood there squarely in the yard next to the empty fountain, briefly noticing there was a layer of dust on it from the dry, hot summer. Their water fights the previous night had left marks from water splatters in it. Time seemed to slow down as Peter barked more demands for the money. Allyssa could see that Erin was becoming more hysterical. The unfamiliar man was frightening the baby, the awkward hold he had on the child making him feel insecure. Allyssa reached for the gun in her belt. She instinctively slipped off the safety, cocked the gun in a smooth, practiced motion, brought it level, and calmly shot Peter in the head, right between the eyes, in the middle of his ranting demands for money. She saw his head take the impact of the bullet and jerk backwards as he went limp and his body fell to the porch. Fortunately, Erin bounced off his body and was unharmed. Juanita screamed as she ran towards the baby. Allyssa calmly walked up and checked that Peter was dead before slipping on the gun’s safety and putting it back in her belt. She took the baby from Juanita’s hysterical arms, Juanita’s tears and Spanish murmurings annoying Allyssa as she took the screeching baby. The unfamiliar man, the way he had held her son, the menace that even the baby had felt, had all come to a head. The noise of the gunshot and falling had upset the baby, and he was screaming his head off. Allyssa immediately began to comfort Erin as she held him. Lexy was trying to get to the man, a growl in the back of her throat that Allyssa had never heard from the dog before. She heard the other two babies start crying, the noises too much for them to sleep through.

  “Juanita! Juanita!” she shouted over Erin’s screams and her housekeeper’s hysterics. She considered slapping her but wondered if she dared. Hell, I just shot another man, I can slap my longtime friend, she thought, but before she could raise her arm, Juanita stopped. She realized the other babies were crying and went running to comfort them.

  Sheriff Bradley showed up with two deputy sheriffs’ cars and an ambulance behind him. All three exited their vehicles cautiously, looking all around the ranch. He found Allyssa Herriot sitting on the wicker rocker comforting her son. He saw the dead man on the porch, staring sightlessly at the ceiling with a neat, little bullet hole between his eyes. He was certain that was the cause of death.

  “Allyssa?” he said gently.

  Allyssa looked up from Erin, who had finally calmed down and had even given his mother a smile. She had heard Juanita playing with the other two babies, distracting them from the noises that had awoken then. “Oh, hello, Sheriff Bradley,” she responded, putting the baby down on his unsteady feet. Erin held himself up by clutching at the wicker of the nearby chair. He was staring up at the man in the hat, not sure if he should cry again or not.

  Allyssa got up slowly and said, “I have a gun in my waistband. I think you are going to need it for evidence.”

  He nodded once and watched, his own hand on his gun holster, as she took the gun out and handed it to him butt first. Surprised at her reaction, he took it before he asked, “Are there others?” His eyes flickered to the dead man.

  Allyssa shook her head. “This is Peter Kapatrick,” she said, gesturing towards the dead man but not looking at him. She had looked at the body while trying to calm Erin’s cries, realizing her son was also reacting to her upset and stiff body. Finally, she relaxed and looked away, crooning to the baby and calming him until he stopped crying. “Trever Kapatrick tried to rape me in the cabin, and I shot him too.”

  “Is he still in there?” the sheriff asked, seeing one his deputies ready to go investigate but waiting to hear what she had to say.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I got him in the shoulder, and I think I may have grazed him a second time, but he got away. He was waiting in the cabin to attack me. If you look down the driveway,” she pointed with her chin as she turned back to Erin, who was trying to balance between pieces of furniture, “there should be blood drops from where I stabbed him and shot him and possibly grazed him.”

  “So, you stabbed him and shot him twice?” he confirmed, glancing back at Peter and trying to sort it out.

  Allyssa nodded, wincing at the pain she now felt in her neck.

  “Which one of them did that to you?” the sheriff pointed to her obviously bruised neck. It looked tender.

  “Did what?” she asked, distracted by the baby.

  “Your neck?” he asked.

  “What’s wrong with my neck?” she asked. Her hand automatically went to her neck and she winced. “Oh, yeah...Trever choked me when he tried to rape me,” she told him, the shock starting to set in. She needed to concentrate on Erin again.

  Sheriff Bradley could see she was distracted by more than just the toddler. He recognized a victim in shock. “Then one of them got away?”

  She nodded, wincing again as the pain from her neck became more apparent. “Yes, Trever got away. He ran up the driveway, but he was limping and holding his shoulder where I shot him. I’m not sure, but a third bullet may have grazed him.”

  “You shot him three times?” he asked, becoming a little confused.

  She shook her head. “No. I shot him once when I got hold of my gun in the desk drawer–”

  “You weren’t wearing it?” he interrupted, remembering the few complaints they had gotten about both Fey and Allyssa wearing sidearms around the county. Oregon allowed this though, and both women had been issued permits.

  “No, this is the gun we keep in the drawer,” she said matter-of-factly. “My Glock was put away because of these guys,” she said, picking Erin up again. She had seen through the window when Juanita came downstairs carrying Tom and Molly. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. This isn’t going to be an easy interview,” she apologized as she took Molly from Juanita and led the police down to the grass.

  “Did you see anything?” he asked the housekeeper.

  “Yes,” she said, her accent becoming thicker as she looked wide-eyed at the three sheriffs’ cruisers parked in the ranch yard. She took Tom down to join the other babies, so they could play. Allyssa was examining Lexy, who was panting and slapping her tail on the porch but seemed unable to walk well yet.

  “Juanita, could you get a bowl of water for the dog before you tell the sheriff what you saw?” she asked, and Juanita nodded, hurrying inside and giving the body a wide berth.

  Allyssa explained what she had seen. One of the deputies recorded her statement as she told how she had thought she had heard something earlier, and the dogs had been sleeping but that was nothing new; they always snoozed the hot days away. Then, she started over and told how she had driven the older children to the fair, dropped them off, and returned. She also stopped at the post office for her mail before coming home to work. After the children had gone down to nap, she had started some inventory work that was waiting but kept thinking she was hearing noises. Now, in retrospect, she knew it must have been Trever hiding out in the addition to the cabin. “When I think about what he could have done...” she said, shuddering as she continued with her story. By the time the coroner arrived, they also had Juanita’s story on tape. Juanita’s story corroborated Allyssa’s story without any prompting. She explained that Ms. Allyssa, as she called her, had shot Peter when he threatened Erin’s life.

  “You could have hit your son?” the deputy making the recording asked.

  “I’m an excellent shot, and he had my son in a precarious position
,” she told him firmly, angered because she knew she could not have hit Erin, but in hindsight, Peter could have broken the baby’s neck. The thought of him going off with the boy still upset her.

  The paramedics checked Allyssa out, advising her to have x-rays on her neck, and just then, Fey pulled in with the RV. She got out, looking at the three sheriffs’ cars, the ambulance, and the coroner’s van in alarm. She ran, thinking one of her children might be hurt, and one of the deputies tried to stop her. Her strength had built up again from wrestling animals larger than herself, and she downed the man without a thought as she rushed to her family. Relieved to see Allyssa sitting there, she took her in her arms.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, her heart beating frantically as she looked at her wife, pulling her close. Upon closer examination, she saw the rapidly forming bruises on her wife’s neck. “What happened? The children?”

  “I’ll be okay,” Allyssa told her, starting to cry now that she knew the children were fine and Fey was here to take care of things. “I shot Peter and Trever. Trever got away after he tried to rape me,” she started crying in earnest as the last few hours came crashing down on her.

  Fey looked over her wife’s shoulder as she held her comfortingly and saw the angry deputy advancing on her. Sheriff Bradley stopped him and nodded to Fey, confirming what Allyssa had been telling her.

  Slowly, the complete story emerged. As it was a clear case of self-defense, the sheriff would not be filing any charges. Fey drove Allyssa, who was still crying occasionally, to the clinic for an x-ray of her neck. She left Juanita to watch the children and one of the deputies remained to guard them all. Sheriff Bradley promised to issue an all-points bulletin on Trever Kapatrick. The media showed up just as Fey was driving Allyssa away from the ranch.

  Fey held her wife’s hand the entire drive to the clinic. The sheriff called ahead to warn the clinic staff to expect the women and to keep any media away from them. Fey and Allyssa entered the clinic. Fey couldn’t stay with her wife while they x-rayed the tissue around her wife’s neck, but she held her hand and remained with her during the examination.

  She had to explain twice that she didn’t need a rape kit. She hadn’t been raped; he hadn’t succeeded. Allyssa appreciated her wife’s calming presence. She could feel herself sinking into depression over the day’s events. She’d started running the ‘what ifs’ through her mind and they were preying on her. What if Trever had succeeded? Would her wife want her after that? What if she had killed Trever too? What if she hadn’t killed Peter and he had hurt Erin? What if Peter had dropped Erin and he’d been hurt? What if her bullet had hit their son instead of the monster who held him?

  “Well, your larynx was crushed,” the doctor announced in a cheerful sounding voice as he entered the room. “Fortunately, he didn’t hold it long enough to cause permanent damage. You are going to have some bad bruising, and we’ve taken several pictures for the police report as per Sheriff Bradley’s instructions. I need your authorization to release them to the authorities though,” he told her, showing her a paper and where she had to sign. Allyssa didn’t hesitate; she signed it. “You are going to have a lot of discomfort and probably a stiff neck as the muscles tighten up,” he explained. “Just try to relax. I’ll give you a prescription for some muscle relaxants to aid in that. I know you have children?” he asked, and she nodded, wincing at the effort. “I know telling you to relax makes it more difficult, but you really need to try. Take lots of hot baths if you have jacuzzi?” he asked hopefully, but she shook her head again, which caused her to wince. “Don’t do that,” he advised.

  Allyssa grinned, knowing he was trying to help. She hurt, but she was feeling better after crying off some of the grief and having Fey there to support her. “Did anyone come into the clinic with a gunshot wound?” she asked casually, almost innocently. Only Fey knew what she was implying.

  “Not that I know of,” he responded, frowning as he wondered why she would ask such a question.

  She nodded slightly, trying not to hurt herself.

  “The pain will wear off with the bruises. If it doesn’t, see your primary care physician,” he advised as he wrote out the prescription and handed it to her. “Rest is the best thing you can do while nature takes care of your injuries. You can go when you are ready,” he told her. “I’ll have your release papers at the nurses’ station.”

  “Thank you,” Allyssa said meekly, sounding hoarse and feeling incredibly exhausted.

  “Thank goodness you are okay,” Fey said as she helped her wife get dressed again.

  “We have to go pick up Sean and Traci soon,” Allyssa warned her, looking outside once she had signed her paperwork.

  “I thought they were staying until after dark?”

  Allyssa realized her sense of timing was all off. It had been a long day. “Oh, yeah. I...” she began, sounding confused.

  “Let’s get this prescription filled and get you home,” Fey said comfortingly, knowing Allyssa was suffering from shock and a bit disoriented.

  Allyssa subsided into the comfortable seat of the Suburban and let her wife take care of her. She wasn’t even aware Fey went through the drive-through at the pharmacy to fill her prescription and was headed home until they arrived. Fey helped her inside, got her out of her clothes and into a hot bath, then left her to check on the babies and relieve Juanita for a bit. She glanced outside. The sheriffs had taken pictures of the cabin, the blood spatters on the floor where Allyssa had struggled with and stabbed Trever, and where she had shot the bastard. She wished her wife hadn’t been so lenient and had shot him through the heart instead of the shoulder. Then, they’d have both bodies here instead of just one and they would know where Trever was. One of the deputies had found a spot where a car had been stashed farther down their driveway. The tire marks were fresh and deep in the dry, dusty dirt, and it was safe to assume that was what he used to get away. She wondered if the APB was going to help find him.

  Allyssa relaxed in the hot water, surprised that a hot bath could feel good in such overly hot weather. She’d had trouble breathing in the heat before, and now, with a swollen neck, she was finding it difficult to swallow. Fey had gone to get her a cold drink of water from the filtered pitcher they kept in the refrigerator, so she could swallow her pills. She closed her eyes, trying to relax and shut off her worry about the ‘what ifs.’

  Fey returned and helped her out of the tub, insisting she eat a sandwich since she had no idea when she had last eaten. It was hard to swallow but she got it down. The cold water felt better going down too, and she managed to swallow the two pills that would relax her. Fey helped her change into shorts and a t-shirt before helping her climb into bed.

  “I’m sorry, Fey. We certainly don’t need this,” she said, gesturing helplessly at the drama she had caused.

  “Are you kidding me? You saved our son and defended our home once again. I’m keeping you. I don’t know how I’d cope without you,” she said in a cheerful voice, the tears pooling in her brown eyes as she looked at her wife and leaned in to peck her on the cheek. The bruises were getting darker as the day went on, and against Allyssa’s white skin, they looked horrible. You could clearly see the finger marks now. She was determined to take pictures tomorrow to add to those taken at the hospital. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you...” she said, her voice breaking as she contemplated what could have happened if her wife hadn’t acted so decisively. “Try not to shoot anyone again though, okay?” she said, leaning down to place her forehead on her wife’s and murmuring that last comment in a choked whisper as she started to cry.

  “I love you, Fey,” Allyssa whispered, clasping her wife close.

  “I love you, Allyssa,” she responded, holding her for a very long time until the pills began to relax her and the exhaustion of the day took hold. As she made to leave, Allyssa’s hold tightened momentarily. “I have to go get the kids,” she murmured, and Allyssa relaxed her grip, caught in that semi-conscious state between
reality and sleep. Fey stood up, watching her wife sleep for a moment as she caught herself suffering from the ‘what ifs.’ In her case, they were more ‘what could haves’ as she contemplated the day. She hadn’t even thought about her interns when she came home and saw the sheriff there; she had immediately thought about her family. She left the master bedroom and checked on their babies that were happily playing in the living room with Juanita.

  “Everything okay here for a moment?” she asked in a quiet voice, smiling down at Molly who was determinedly playing with a block.

  “Sure are,” Juanita said, smiling at Tom, who was trying to climb over the older woman’s legs.

  “I’m sure no one has asked yet, but are you okay?” Fey asked, grateful beyond belief for the woman’s presence.

  Juanita looked up, turning her smile on the doctor. “You are good for that gal. I can’t imagine her doing what she had to do today without your influence.”

  Fey had never felt so flattered, and she returned the smile. “Thank you, Juanita. Are you okay?” she repeated.

  “I’m fine, Doctor,” she nodded as she caught Tom before he fell against her. He giggled.

  “I’m going to check a few things,” Fey said and nodded towards the front door. The housekeeper returned the nod and watched as the doctor went outside.

  Fey didn’t see the dogs, so she headed for the clinic. She was surprised to see the broken glass had been swept up; she knew the police hadn’t done that. Then, she found her two interns checking on the dogs. “How are they?” she asked as she came into the addition.

  “We haven’t determined what they were given, but it was some type of drug that incapacitated them,” one of the interns said as he looked through Fiona’s microscope.

  “Are they getting any control back?” Fey asked. She had been sure the dogs were poisoned, but maybe the men had only given them a knockout pill or something instead. She’d hate to have to put the dogs down.