Running On Empty

by Colette Ballard

  “He sent them on a wild goose chase. Figuring the cops would intercept any mail going to your sister, he sent a postcard from Reno supposedly from you. And another one two days later from two different towns in Oregon.”

  Oh, yeah. That fun.

  “Charlie found out I was on my way to Vegas, so I assume he still has a contact here in Texas.” He shook his head. “He really looked out for you girls. It could’ve ended badly.”

  It could’ve, but it didn’t. Charlie kept us safe without us even knowing.

  The chief drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Now it’s my turn to ask the questions. Let’s start with how you got Rachel Banard’s name and information.”

  I filled him in on everything he needed to know. I told him my suspicions about her family being paid to keep quiet and leave town. He didn’t ask about the accident, and I didn’t volunteer anything.

  We spent the rest of the trip in silence.

  “This is it,” I confirmed as we pulled in to the Banards’ driveway.

  The chief held his hand up when I opened the car door to get out. “You stay in here. I’ll take care of this.”

  “No way. I can get Rachel to talk to me. I know I can. I don’t want this to be any harder on her than it’s already been. She’s scared to death and won’t tell you anything. You just have to get us in the door.”

  “I don’t know,” he grumbled.

  “I’m going in.” I stepped out of the car before he could say anything else.

  Following close, I stood behind him as he knocked on the door. With his crisp uniform, his gun belt, and his hat, the chief looked strong and stoic and very official. Relieved he was on my side, I relaxed my shoulders a little.

  When Ms. Banard answered the door, the chief held up his badge. “Ms. Banard, you know why I’m here. I need to speak to you and your daughter about what happened with Logan Westfield last year.”

  Glancing past him, she shot me an icy glare. “I…I already told your friend here, nothing happened.”

  “I know what you said before, but I have reason to believe otherwise.”

  Fidgeting with the bulky charm bracelet on her wrist, she glanced back and forth from him to me. “You have no proof.”

  The chief took a deep breath and looked past her, eying the tall ceilings and the tiled entryway that spilled into a sizable living room. “This is a very nice place you have, Ms. Banard.”

  With a tight smile, she followed his gaze.

  “Not too many places in Dahlia look like this, you know.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” Her tone was strained.

  “Then maybe you wouldn’t mind telling me how you went from a broken-down house beside the railroad tracks, to this?”

  The color drained from her face, and her bracelet jingled in time with her shaking hands.

  Rachel walked up behind her mother and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “He raped me,” she barely whispered to the chief.

  Ms. Banard closed her eyes for a second before she stepped back and opened the door wider. Leading us into the living room, she motioned for everyone to take a seat. After a quick introduction, the chief leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. With his hands clasped together, he said to Rachel, “Young lady, I need you to tell me exactly what happened with Logan Westfield.”

  Tears sprang from Ms. Banard’s eyes as she put her hand over her mouth and backed toward the entryway. “I can’t be here for this.”

  After her mom left the room, I went over to the couch and sat next to Rachel, who held her head in her hands. “Rachel,” I started softly, “I’m so sorry to put you through this, but I need your help. If this thing goes to trial, the Westfields will make sure I never see the light of day. If we can show the court that I wasn’t the only person that Logan attacked, the Westfields may drop it. They won’t want this news coming out about their son. And they won’t want any bad press for their family. Please.”

  In her own time, Rachel began. “It was the beginning of summer break, and we had just moved to Dahlia. As soon as I met Logan, things started going really fast. He was my first real boyfriend, so when he started acting jealous, I thought it was normal. My mom’s boyfriend had always been really jealous and controlling, so…” She scraped at the chipped yellow polish on her thumbnail. “I just thought that’s what it was like when somebody loved you.”

  I nodded when she looked up at me. Unfortunately, I did know.

  “He really started to pressure me about sex after our first month of dating. I was only fifteen, still a virgin, and not ready to make that step. On the night it happened, we’d been out drinking, probably too much. He took me on some back road.” She was visibly shaking, so I grabbed her hand. “We were making out like we had before, but when I wouldn’t go any further, he accused me of cheating on him. I tried to convince him otherwise. Maybe…maybe I let things go further than I should’ve. But I told him no.” She put her hands over her face, and the tears came. “Over and over, I told him no.”

  Resting my hand on her back, I said, “You told him no, and that should’ve been enough.” It should’ve been, but it wasn’t. Not for her or for me. “I understand what you’ve been through. Your story is the same as mine, except…well, you’ve seen the news.”

  She turned to me, her eyes filled with the pain she’d carried for the past year. “They made it sound like you’d just shot this great football hero for no reason and left him to die. But I knew…I knew you had a reason to kill him.” She swiped away her tears. “I could’ve stopped him from hurting you. If I’d only reported him…”

  I held her tight while she sobbed, rubbing my hands over her hair like we were lifelong friends. I was pretty certain she’d never allowed herself to acknowledge the truth of what happened to her before today, much less say it out loud. My heart ached like it’d been stomped on with metal cleats and my throat burned like I’d drunk gasoline, but I refused to shed another tear over Logan Westfield.

  The chief sat silently, his face drenched in anguish as he watched two girls struggle with the impact that one person had caused in their lives. That one person being his godson—somebody he’d promised to look after. He didn’t look strong or stoic or official anymore, he looked like… somebody’s heartbroken dad.

  When Rachel got control again, she continued, “When he took me home afterwards, before he let me out of the car, he twisted things around. He told me how much he loved me and that we’d be together forever. He had me almost believing it was consensual. It may have worked if it hadn’t been for my friend, Caroline. She was at my house when I got there and saw how shook up I was. I don’t remember much after that.”

  Caroline—that had to be who sent the anonymous note to Jamie. She had to be the only other person that would have known anything about that night.

  Rachel’s mother appeared in the doorway. She stepped into the room and lowered herself into a chair beside us. “Rachel was so upset that Caroline could barely make sense of what happened, but she knew it was something bad. After Caroline told me what she suspected, I headed straight to the Westfields.

  “I found Logan lounging by the poolside, drinking a beer as if nothing had happened. I started screaming at him, demanding to know what he had done to my daughter. It was obvious he was drunk, and his answers were arrogant and cocky. At first, he tried to deny it, but I kept pushing. He got really angry with me and ranted about Rachel being a tease. He said she wanted it, so he finally gave it to her. What he didn’t realize was that his parents were standing right behind him. They had come out when they heard all the yelling. When he turned to look at them, he wasn’t feeling so full of himself anymore. They were horrified when they saw the obvious scratches on his face and arms. He knew he was caught.

  “I was about to leave and call the police when Logan’s father started doing some fast talking. He told me it would be devastating to drag Rachel through a messy court battle. That it would be humiliating for her and that it would be h
er word against Logan’s. Then he asked me what kind of lawyer I would be able to afford. I wanted to claw his eyes out, but at the same time I knew he was right. I wanted his son to rot in jail for what he’d done, but what jury would convict a seventeen-year-old star football player that had, in his words, ‘slept with his own girlfriend’?”

  My gut twisted. Logan had used that very same line on me, right before…

  Ms. Banard continued, “He led me into the office of their fancy horse barn, which was more like a house. I was in such a state of shock, I couldn’t think straight as he presented his plan so effortlessly. He got out his checkbook and began filling it out as he spoke. I vividly remember his words: ‘Logan has mentioned where you live and your rather unfortunate circumstances. You’re a single mom struggling to raise two children—one with cystic fibrosis. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable leaving Dahlia behind and starting a new life somewhere else? Your younger child could get better healthcare in a larger city and your daughter would never have to hear the name Logan Westfield again.’”

  So it was true—Logan liked to date girls from outside of his hometown, from the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak. He thought girls like us would be grateful for him and all the opportunities he could offer. He thought girls like us would put up with his drinking, his obnoxious behavior, and his controlling ways. He thought girls like us would let him have his way and we’d keep our mouths shut. And for a while, he was right.

  “I hated Richard Westfield in that moment.” Ms. Banard’s hand curled into a fist and she placed her other one over it. “I also knew he was right about every single bit of it. Realizing my family could have a real chance, I took the bait.

  “‘How does $350,000 sound for your house and property?’ he’d said and handed me the check. ‘This will buy you a nice house, some good insurance—a whole new life. You could tell your family that you won a medical negligence lawsuit involving your sick child.’ For a second, his eyes held pity, then they went stone cold as he threatened me, ‘But let me make one thing clear: I do not ever want to hear from you people again. If I do, your life will become even more difficult. I can assure you of that.’ He sent two of his employees to follow me home, and we packed everything and disappeared that night.”

  As her mother spoke, Rachel seemed to hang on every word as if it were the first time she’d ever heard it.

  Rachel’s mom smoothed her hands over her gray slacks. “I didn’t feel like I had a choice; our lives would be a living hell if we stayed. I was more than happy to leave the Westfields behind after that.” She looked as though all the life had been drained out of her, and she could barely hold her head up. “I’m afraid of what might happen if I go against our deal. I mean, it’s not about the money or the house, it’s about our safety.”

  Rachel put her head in her hands. “None of this would’ve happened if I had reported him.”

  “It wasn’t your choice to make,” her mom said. “I took that decision away from you.” With pleading eyes, she looked at the chief. “My daughter has already been through so much.”

  With a faraway gaze, the chief seemed to take that in. In a choked whisper, so soft that I could barely make out his words, he said, “So has mine.”

  Warmth radiated in my heart, and if I allowed myself to believe it, I’d say it was caused by a missing piece that had begun to fill in.

  27

  BUSTED

  Sitting up in my bed, I smiled at the first hint of early morning light. I had fallen asleep last night on the way back from Holten, and the chief didn’t try to wake me until we got to Justice’s house. I barely remembered directing him to the cabin. I would’ve stopped to tell Justice last night, but it was late, and I knew he had to get up for work early.

  I was super-anxious to get to Justice’s house to tell him the news about Rachel agreeing to testify. The chief instructed me to be patient and stay put while he tried to gather evidence. Even though he refused to give me any hints as to what kind of evidence he was searching for, due to my history of taking matters into my own hands, his confidence gave me a sense of real hope for the first time in nearly three months.

  Practically skipping to Justice’s, I came through the back of the barn and stopped mid-skip when I saw him standing by a strange car in the driveway. It wasn’t hard to figure out who the car belonged to when he leaned into her window and kissed the red-haired intruder. A searing pain sliced through my heart like an axe through wood.

  I wanted to turn away, run, and pretend I never saw it, but it was like a train wreck I couldn’t stop watching. With his back facing me, he stood up straight and spoke to her for a couple minutes. I tried not to notice the way his white undershirt stretched across his wide shoulder blades, the way his jeans fit him just right, or the way his hair flipped out around his baseball cap. Leaning into her car, he kissed her again and held her hand until she pulled away. Like a soldier saying good-bye to his girlfriend before he went on a year-long deployment, he watched her drive away.

  An unexpected rush of anger came over me, and my fists balled at my sides. Rationally, I knew I had no right to feel that way, but I did, and I didn’t have a clue what I was supposed to do about it. When my instincts got around to kicking in, I turned to slink away. En route to my smooth getaway, I tripped on the same noisy bucket as I had the first night I got back in town. Stupid alarm bucket. Maybe by some miracle Justice didn’t hear it, or one of those trap doors like in Scooby-Doo would magically appear and swallow me in the nick of time.

  “Hold up, Daniels. Where are you goin’?” Justice called after me.

  Or not.

  Be calm, be calm, be calm, I coached myself as I inched back around and showed him my I’m-fine, super-okay, didn’t-see-a-thing face. “I’m…uh, just out for a morning walk.” I shrugged.

  He swaggered toward me. “You obviously came to see me.”

  “Well, I could see you were busy,” I said, giving myself a jaw ache by trying to smile casually while restraining a scream and keeping my mouth shut all at the same time.

  He opened his arms wide. “Well, I’m not anymore.”

  Say something intelligent, River, something that makes sense. “I was, uh…I was just wondering if you had any hair conditioner I could borrow.” Yeah, good one.

  The corners of his lips lifted slightly. “What is it with you and all the hair products?”

  “Lotta hair, I guess.” I pulled on my hair. “Between the three of us…” My explanation was so lame, I didn’t bother finishing it.

  “I don’t have any, but I can pick up some in town for you on my way home from work.”

  “Okay, thanks. See you later, then.” I waved and turned to walk away.

  “Wait a minute. Is that really all you wanted?”

  I swung back around and, to my own surprise, blurted out, “I don’t think you and your girlfriend make a very good match.”

  He folded his arms in front of his chest, a hint of dimple shadowing his cheek. “Based on…?”

  I had no idea, and what a stupid thing for me to say. I racked my brain for an answer, but his mocking grin was too distracting.

  “I’m waiting.” He tapped his fingers on his folded arms.

  “Well…does she make you laugh?” The dumbest question I could think of spilled out of my mouth before I could stop it.

  Cupping his chin between his forefinger and his thumb, he narrowed his eyes then pointed in my direction. “You do.”

  “Never mind, Justice. Forget it,” I growled, then spun around and walked off.

  He laughed as he caught up with me and grabbed my arm. Yanking my arm away from his grasp, I turned on him like a wildcat ready for battle.

  “Sorry, sorry, I forgot.” He put his hands up in surrender, and then made a weak attempt to look serious. “What was your question again?”

  I glared at him but answered anyway. “Does she make you laugh? As in, do you have fun with her?” I could see the bewilderment in his eyes as he tried to figur
e out if it was a serious question or a trap.

  “It’s simple, really.” I put my hand on my hip. “Do you. Have fun. With her?” I enunciated too loudly.

  His eyes danced. He was getting way too much enjoyment out of my little interrogation. “How about I get back to you on that when you’re a little calmer and more rational?”

  “I am absolutely calm and rational,” I barked. “And I don’t even care what the answer is.”

  The corners of his lips twitched up. “River Daniels, are you jealous?”

  “Absolutely not.” What a ridiculous accusation.

  “It’s okay if you are.” He grinned. “I think it’s kinda cute.”

  I shooed him away with my hands. “Just go. Just go have fun with Trixie.”

  “Trina,” he calmly corrected. “Her name is Trina.”

  “Whatever,” I huffed as I stomped away. Hearing his laughter behind me, I had to resist the strong urge to turn around and throw a rock at him. I compromised and turned around and stuck my tongue out at him instead—to which he doubled over and laughed even harder.

  What was I thinking? I should’ve gone with the rock.

  Kat was sitting at the kitchen table having a bowl of cereal when I walked into the cabin. “What happened to you?” she asked around a mouthful of cereal.

  I blew my hair out of my face and tried to act nonchalant. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you look all mad or upset.”

  I pulled out a chair and flopped down. “It’s nothin’.”

  “Spit it out; I know that look.”

  “It’s Justice. I went to his house this morning to tell him about yesterday, and I caught him kissing his girlfriend.” As soon as it came out of my mouth, I knew how pathetic it sounded.

  Kat choked on her cereal and covered her mouth with the side of her fist. “What do you mean you caught him?”

  “Okay, I walked up on him, whatever.”

  “You know he has a girlfriend and that he probably kisses her sometimes, right?”