by Chiah Wilder
The man with the dreadlocks didn’t move a muscle, just leaned against the wall, his dark eyes fixed on her. She stared straight ahead. Fear bubbled in her chest, but she didn’t want to show it. Turning sideways, she looked at the threatening figure from sidelong glances. He hadn’t moved from his spot. Although every nerve in her body tingled, she plastered on a placid face, showing him that she wasn’t easily intimidated.
Annie pulled out the chair and sank down on it. “What’s going on? You look as white as a ghost. Are you sick?”
Fallon shook her head. “Look behind you. Do you see that man with the dreadlocks? He keeps staring at me.”
Anne turned around. “What guy? I don’t see anyone with dreadlocks.”
Fallon twisted around in her chair and looked at the empty spot. Where did he go? She scanned the bar but couldn’t find him. He must be here somewhere. I know I didn’t imagine him this time. Or did I? Am I going fucking crazy?
“Are you sure you’re all right? You don’t look so good right now. Do you want to go home?”
Her breath came out choppy. “I am feeling out of sorts. I should go home. Sorry if I spoiled your evening.”
“You didn’t. I’ve got to work in the morning. Let’s go.”
The two women paid their tab and left the establishment. Outside, Fallon kept looking around to see if she could spot the man with the dreadlocks. No one was there.
“I had a good time. We’ll have to do it again soon,” Annie said.
“For sure.” Fallon climbed into her car and started the motor.
On the way home, she had a sense that someone was following her. Every few seconds she glanced in her rearview mirror, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You’re just being foolish. Why would anyone want to follow you? That guy’s just got you all spooked.
She pulled into her parking space and got out. As she walked down the path leading to the front glass doors, she heard a shuffle behind her, like a shoe against the pavement. She stopped. Nothing but the soft rustling of the leaves by the night breeze.
I know someone’s here. I can feel them. Iciness traveled through her veins as she took another couple of steps, the light scraping behind her picking up once again. I just need to make it to the front door. I can do this. With her heart slamming against her chest, she pushed onward, ignoring the footsteps. Then a stench like stale cigarettes and beer invaded her nostrils and she looked back. The dreadlocked man’s burning stare—lethal and penetrating—slayed her. His warm breath touched her skin.
“No!” she screamed as she struggled to make it to the front door.
He didn’t say anything before he reached out and grabbed her arm, his jagged nails tearing at her skin. Then the front door opened and a couple came out. The man let go of her and dashed away, and her head spun. Stumbling to the front door, she murmured her thanks to the couple who held it open for her, and she went to her apartment.
Clammy sweat drenched her skin as she leaned against her closed door, gasping for breath. He must have followed me home. He knows where I live. Panic seized her. She felt the urge to run, escape, hide. It was no different than when she was a child fearing the belt, the hairbrush, or whatever her dad came to beat her with. She wanted to jump out of her skin, make her heart stop racing, and catch her breath. It felt as if someone was choking her. Her heart was racing, and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for Diablo to come back to her. She sank to the floor, gasping like a fish out of water, the room spinning out of control.
A long time later, she pushed up from the floor and brushed her hair from her damp forehead. Securing a straight-backed chair, she dragged it over to her front door and placed its back under her doorknob. Then she arranged the sticks she had the man at the hardware store cut down for her in her window and sliding door tracks. She splashed cold water over her face and shrugged off her damp clothes. Lying down on the bed, she took out her phone and sent a text to Diablo.
Fallon: I’m missing you like crazy. Hurry home. ♥♥
Wrapping the comforter around her, she fell asleep waiting for his reply.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“The bitch found out about her grandma. Damnit. Can’t you do anything right?” he said.
“Why’re you always blaming me? She probably got a letter from the law firm on a day that I was away. She thinks she’s so clever. I knew something was up when the lawyer canceled my appointment.”
“We’ll have to go with plan B.” He went over to the window and looked out.
“Damn right. There’s no fucking way I’m letting her get all that money. I’ve had to stay in this godforsaken town and now it’s payday.”
“She must know something’s up. Do you think she’s suspicious of us? I’m sure the lawyer told her someone made an appointment pretending to be her.”
“I was so careful with the damn mail. I can’t believe she found out. It would’ve been much simpler if she hadn’t. She thinks she’s something with her new apartment, job, and biker boyfriend. I’m sure she got some money from the law firm. Fuck.”
“Let her think she’s got us fooled. It’s when they’re cocky that they put down their defenses. And I need a new car,” he said as he looked at his parked in the driveway.
“That fucking cunt has been more trouble than she’s worth. I’ve had to put up with so much shit.”
He sighed. “I know. Pretty soon it’ll be over. Did you already open an account in her name at Bank of the Rockies?”
“Yeah, I’m on top of things. Don’t worry about me. The only problem we have is Diablo. I’m not sure she told him about the money. I still don’t know what he sees in her.”
“Why’re you so obsessed with that? Are you mad that he gave attention to Fallon and not to you?”
“Fuck off.”
“Anyway, we got a couple weeks before she turns twenty-two, and I want to make sure we’re all set.” He turned away from the window and sat in one of the chairs in the master bedroom.
“We will be.”
“It’s about time the bitch paid off.” He laughed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Detective Contreras poured coffee in the mug his seven-year-old had painted for him the previous Christmas, then grabbed a glazed donut and sat down at his desk. The report from the forensic anthropologist on the Jane and John Doe found in Mesa County laid on top. After taking a swig of coffee and a bite of his donut, he opened the report.
First Skull: Female, Caucasian, slight stature, age from twenty-five to thirty-three years old. No soft tissue present on bones. Bones found indicate animal scavengers chewed on some of them. Other bones discovered were rib bones. Fractures to bones of the face and ribs show they were in various stages of healing, which may suggest a history of violence in the domestic setting. The immature molars and premolars were intact. Incisors and canines were absent but located in the soil underneath the remains. From the shape of the teeth, absence of fillings, and possibility of braces, it is presumed that Jane Doe might have worn braces, thus suggesting she came from a family of some means.
Skull showed bone breakage patterns without any sign of healing, which indicates that the injury occurred at or near the time of death. Since the bone was still fresh when the trauma occurred, the fracture edges were sharp and clean. The blunt force skull injury to fresh bone left identifying marks of the weapon used to inflict the trauma—a blunt, oval-shaped club.
Taking into account the surrounding environment, the climate, and the existence of insects and feeding animals, the determination is that the victim has been there for twelve years.
Due to the injury, the determination is that foul play caused the death.
Second Skull: Male, Caucasian, medium build, age around thirty to forty years old. Hand and feet bones indicate animal scavengers chewed on them. Premolars were intact; however, the rest of the teeth are missing and have not been located.
Skull shows two holes, one in the back of the head and one in the left t
emple, without any sign of healing, which indicates that the injury occurred at or near the time of death. Since the bone was still fresh when the trauma occurred, the fracture edges are sharp and clean. The holes indicate that a firearm caused the injury.
Taking into account the surrounding environment, the climate, and the existence of insects and feeding animals, the determination is that the person has been there for twelve years.
Due to the injury, the determination is that foul play caused the death.
Contreras read the report a couple more times and then placed the information he gleaned from it in the National Missing and Unidentified Persons Systems to see if any hits came up. Several images appeared and he shook his head, surprised that so many people were listed as missing.
“What you got there?” Detective Onofrio asked.
“Just reading the report that came in on the Jane and John Doe in Mesa County. I’ll send a copy to Wexler. Haven’t found anything in the database so far. I think we should put it in the papers and television in the area. There was that locket that was found buried in the dirt. Probably fell off the female after decomposition set in. Maybe someone will recognize it.”
“Sounds like a good idea. If they’re not in the national database maybe they weren’t reported as missing.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. Anyway, I’ll get a picture of the locket from forensics. You never know.”
“How long did forensics say the two victims have been in their shallow graves?”
Contreras laced his fingers behind his head. “About twelve years, give or take a year.”
Onofrio whistled under his breath. “Damn. There’s definitely people missing them.”
“Yeah. Jane Doe was someone’s daughter or sister or mother, and John Doe was someone’s son, brother, or father. Their families deserve to know what happened to their loved ones. They’ve been wondering after all these years. I hope we can identify them.” Contreras knew that in some cases an identity was never made. He hoped that wasn’t going to be the case with the recently discovered victims.
“You going to Mirabella’s dance recital?” Onofrio said.
“Yep. I have to cut out of here in a couple hours. I’m going to send this off to Wexler, then check the database another time. Then I have to interview the old lady who says she saw something suspicious in the parking lot when Rachel Dunleavy was murdered. I’m still betting it’s her ex-husband who did her in. Some people just can’t let go.” Contreras sighed and went over to the copy machine, placing the forensic anthropologist’s report in the feeder. As he watched the papers move, he wished they could solve this case and finally let these two victims have the peace and closure they deserved.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Night Rebels flocked into the clubhouse, weary-worn from their mission in Arizona. When the brothers entered the main room, they received a warm welcome from those who stayed behind and the club girls. Brown bottles and short glasses filled with clear and amber liquids glistened in the morning’s light.
Diablo went up to the bar and downed two Jacks, the whiskey going down smooth like liquid fire. After a few days without any alcohol—when on a mission, no drinking was allowed—the smoky whiskey tasted damn good.
“Mission accomplished?” Rooster Mike said as he came over to Diablo.
“Yeah. The fuckers got what they had coming.” Diablo’s jaw twitched.
“Lena’s been cooking up a storm ever since Steel told her you’d all be back today.”
“Smells fuckin’ awesome,” Skull interjected.
“I gotta go see my woman.” Diablo downed another whiskey, then spun around and headed to the kitchen. After talking briefly to Lena, he headed to his room to freshen up and get rid of his dusty clothes. He couldn’t wait to see Fallon. The whole time he was gone she was always on his mind. He’d never felt such a strong pull toward another human being in his life. It was amazing that out of the sea of seven billion people on the planet, she’d entered his orbit softly and unassumingly. But her impact on him was like a galactic storm. He’d made up his mind while he was away that he’d never let her slip out of his life.
Freshly showered and changed, he locked his door, pumped his fist in the air as he walked through the main room, and straddled his Harley before he switched it on and rode to the bookstore.
The store smelled like ink and paper. It was the only one in town that had such a varied collection of both used and new books. The owner, Hattie, had opened the town’s favorite gathering hole for bibliophiles thirty-five years before, and her friendly staff and willingness to find out-of-print books gave the shop its stellar reputation.
When Diablo entered the store, the chiming bell announced his arrival. He scanned the area but didn’t see Fallon. Jerry came up to him, smiling. “You’re here to see Fallon, right?” Diablo jerked his head. Jerry licked his lips quickly. “She’s in the back room opening some boxes we received earlier. Just go on back.”
Diablo went to the back of the store and opened the door that had an “Employees Only” bronze sign on it. He went down a short hallway and stopped when he heard the rustling of paper and the ripping sound of a box cutter. Walking inside the room, he saw Fallon with her back to him, breaking open boxes and taking books out. The way her hips swayed when she’d pull open the top of a cardboard box made his dick punch against his zipper. The truth was he’d been sporting a hard-on ever since he’d come back. It was all he could do to freshen up and come over to the store without losing it.
His woman had changed her wardrobe nicely. Instead of the baggy, shapeless tops and pants she used to wear, she now sported leggings and fitted tops, and she looked mighty damn fine. Her change in wardrobe reflected her growing confidence in herself, something he loved seeing as the weeks went on. Forging out on her own seemed to have really helped her come out of her shell. As much as he wanted her to live with him, he had to admit that she’d been right to have some time to herself to get to know who she really was.
As if sensing him, she stopped and whirled around, a huge smile lighting up her face. Without a word he went to her, pulling her into his embrace and kissing her. “I’m so happy you’ve come back safely,” she murmured against his mouth.
“I’ve missed you so much, woman,” he rasped as his hands skimmed over her hips and cupped her buttocks. He walked her backward to the wall and pushed her against it, his mouth never leaving hers.
“I had no idea when you were coming home. I didn’t hear from you,” she said in small pants as he ran his tongue down the side of her neck, nipping and sucking between the licks.
“You were on my mind the whole time, sweet pea. I’m ready to burst here. I want you so fuckin’ bad.”
“Me too.” She glided her hands underneath his shirt and raked her nails down his muscular back.
In one fluid movement, he’d turned her around, taken off her leggings and panties, and shoved her against the wall so her palms were flat on it. He spread her legs wide and pushed down on her lower back so her ass was up higher. She moaned and looked behind her shoulder, her desire-filled eyes catching his and making his cock hard as steel.
“What if Jerry comes looking for me?” she whispered.
“Then he’ll find us fuckin’ good and hard.” He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, shrugging them down. His hardness poked against her quivering flesh, and he placed his hands on her ass cheeks, squeezing them hard, loving the way she moaned and squirmed when he dug into her skin. Leaning over, he kissed her lower back, then trailed his lips up her spine, landing on the nape of her neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”
Shoving her top up, he grasped one of her tits in his hand and massaged it, then ran his hand down her belly to her pussy.
“That feels so good,” she muttered.
“I bet it does. And I love how wet you are,” he said against her skin as he ran his finger up and down her wet mound. “Do you want me to fuck you, sweet pea?” he asked as he slid his finger next to he
r hardening sweet spot.
“Yes. I really want it,” she breathed.
“Want what?” he asked as he flicked her nub.
“I want you to be inside me. Please?” She turned to look at him and the lust he saw in her gaze sent him over the edge.
He grabbed and squeezed her ass cheeks roughly, then jackhammered into her hard. She cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. For each thrust, he pulled all the way out and then buried his dick to the hilt, his balls slapping her pussy lips and clit. Each time he plunged his cock into her, Fallon’s body was pushed forward, causing her tits to sway. Grabbing one of her breasts, he said thickly, “I’m gonna make you come until you can’t breathe.”
With each thrust, her wet and warm walls clamped onto his cock, drawing it in and coaxing it deeper. Sweat misted over their bodies as their frenzied desire mounted. Then he pulled out quickly, yanked her up, turned her around, and flattened her back against the window. Diablo lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist before he shoved into her again. He dipped his head and kissed her while he pounded her pussy, an enticing combination of wickedness and seduction.
Diablo’s balls tightened and the pressure was strong, overpowering. He stiffened and then grunted, his release ripping through his hardness, his balls emptying thick, hot streams of ecstasy into her. Fallon’s nails dug into his skin as she followed his release with her own pleasure-filled one. Her high-pitched cry rang through his ears as he placed his damp forehead between her heaving breasts.
“Fuck, sweet pea,” he grunted as his breathing slowly returned to normal. She had her arms around his neck, her head buried in the crook of it. It was the best fucking he’d had since the last time they’d come together.
Gently he eased her down and she fell against him. “My legs feel like jelly.” She chuckled. He helped her onto a chair. “I’m so glad you’re back,” she whispered.