by Barb Han
“You ready to pick out your first Christmas tree for your daughter?” he asked. Leanne deserved this. So did Mila. The kid was as cute as a button. He briefly envisioned bringing them here for hayrides and hot chocolate as Mila grew older.
“Can we get any one of these?” Leanne took off running toward the plantings. This close to Christmas the lot had a fair amount of vehicles, mostly trucks.
Dalton hoped he had a way to tie off whatever tree she picked as he chased her through the forest of evergreens.
“What do we do?” she finally asked, out of breath, as she stopped in front of one.
“Get an ax,” he said.
“No.” She spun around, grabbed him and pulled him closer until he could breathe the same air as her. “They’re too perfect. I don’t want to spoil them by taking an ax to one.”
“I can understand your point,” he said, tugging her toward him. “I can.”
He could feel her heartbeat against his chest. Hers pounded from the run, and it reminded him of another time her pulse raced alongside his.
“But this family grows these trees as a source of income. This land is dedicated to growing trees to be chopped down, so it’s not hurting the environment. In fact, it’s helping out a very good family,” he explained before kissing her again. The taste of convenience-store coffee was still on her breath from when they’d stopped earlier to pick up a couple of cups.
“Need any help?” A bear of a man walked toward them. He couldn’t be much more than forty years old.
“Dalton Butler.” He stuck out his hand.
“Hardy.” The man gripped his hand and Dalton was immediately aware of the strength in his handshake.
“Do you work for the Santanas?” Dalton asked. He didn’t remember seeing Hardy around before.
“Pamela’s my aunt,” he said by way of explanation. He wore lumberjack-type clothing and wielded a hefty-sized ax. He wore a serious expression and something darkened his eyes as his gaze landed on the area of Leanne’s shoulder holster. “You like this one here?”
“Yes.” Dalton pulled Leanne closer to him. It was probably just because the guy almost matched him in height and build, and was wielding an ax that caused him to want to keep her within arm’s reach. Primal instinct. Nothing more. “You live here, too?”
“Nah. Just come when I can get away from home. My uncle’s getting up there in years and Pamela can use a hand.” Hardy shrugged, pulled the ax sideways and then got off his first shot at the trunk. He had the form of a professional golfer with similar precision. Wood chips flew from the contact as he made a large dent in the side of the tree. He turned to Dalton and Leanne. “You might want to step back.”
He tagged the tree before pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket and handing it to Leanne. Something else flashed behind his eyes, but it happened so fast Dalton couldn’t be sure.
Dalton put his body in between Hardy and Leanne, linking their fingers as they took a few steps back.
A few hacks at the trunk later and Hardy hauled the tree up onto his shoulder. “What are you driving?”
“Sport utility. Black.” Dalton supplied the license plate number.
“Take that slip I gave you to my aunt to pay. I’ll have this strapped to your vehicle by the time she runs the charge,” Hardy said.
“Will do,” Dalton replied.
“I’ve never had a real Christmas tree before,” Leanne admitted when they were out of earshot.
“There’s nothing like waking up to the smell of pine to tell you the holiday is here.” Dalton had mixed feelings about this year and that was most likely the reason he’d been stalling on finding a tree. Then again, it was his turn this year and he’d been dreading it. Being with Leanne, seeing her eyes light up when she saw “the one” gave him a warm feeling in his chest. Was that cold heart of his finally thawing out? It had been frozen for a very long time. Too long, a little voice in his head said. The voice sounded a whole helluva lot like Alexandria’s.
Deep down, he knew she’d want him to be happy. In the past, attempts to reclaim his life had felt hollow. Not this time. Not with Leanne.
She squeezed his hand with the excitement of a little kid. But the kiss she planted on his lips next was all woman. It also got something stirring they couldn’t deal with out here in the cold.
He smiled at her and she seemed to catch on.
The sparkle in her eyes told him all he needed to know about what she was thinking, too.
“Thank you,” she said, looking right through him to his core. “I haven’t felt this happy, this alive in longer than I can remember.”
“Me, either.” Happiness had always been fleeting in Dalton’s life. And he feared this time would be no different. Yes, his feelings ran deep for the woman at his side, as they linked their fingers again and strolled through the pine forest. But they’d be out of the woods and back to reality soon.
The small wood hut at the entrance to the gravel parking lot had a window for transactions.
“Pamela,” Dalton said as he walked up. She was short. He couldn’t see much more than her platinum blond hair, which was piled on top of her head when he first approached.
“In the flesh,” she chirped.
She wore too much blue eye shadow over brown eyes and had a nice but worn dimpled smile.
“Hardy said I should give you this.” He handed over the slip of paper.
“Excellent choice,” she said, looking over the small sheet. “A nine-foot Leyland cypress. That’s my favorite kind.” She looked harder at him. “I’m sorry I can’t keep you and your brother straight. Are you Dalton?”
“Guilty,” he admitted, pulling out his money clip and peeling off a few twenties after hearing the price.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again. I’m real sorry about your papa,” she said, taking the bills being offered. Her eyes widened. “This is too much.”
“Give whatever’s left over to Hardy.”
“He’ll appreciate it,” she said on a sigh. “As a boy, he went through more than anyone should have to endure in one lifetime. For a while, I thought he wouldn’t come out the other side after witnessing his mother bring man after man parading through the home, each one with his own set of problems. There were severe punishments that...let’s just say that each new male figure seemed to have a new way to torture Hardy. Later on, he got into trouble but he learned his lesson while he served his time,” she glanced up and seemed to have revealed more than she’d wanted to, “and here he is.”
“I’m sorry to hear about his past. Nice of him to help out,” Dalton said, noticing she’d called Hardy a boy instead of a man.
“It gives him running money.” Pamela flashed eyes at him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t talk about other people’s problems.”
“I thought I knew everyone in Cattle Barge,” Dalton added. “Did he grow up around here?”
“No. He’s not from around these parts. Me and my husband bought this farm fourteen years ago to make a fresh start after he lost his job.” Pamela had a wistful look on her face, but she reined it in real quick and then handed him a receipt. “You folks have a nice holiday. Come back and see us next year.”
“We will. And you, too.” Dalton took the paper and stuffed it inside his front pocket.
He and Leanne walked to his sport utility as another car pulled into the parking lot. Hardy was already tying another tree on top of a sedan. The place seemed to do a steady business.
On the road again, something was bugging Dalton.
Chapter Sixteen
“I have a weird feeling.” Leanne hadn’t been able to shake it since she and Dalton left the tree farm.
“Same here.”
They’d winded down the lane and onto the road leading toward the highway.
“Can’t put my finger on it,” she admitted. “Did Hardy rub
you the wrong way?”
“He did.”
A few seconds later, Dalton mashed the brake and pulled onto the shoulder of the two-lane road. He bolted out of the SUV and released a string of swear words.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Check the sign,” he said.
She glanced around the road and locked on to a sign. They were on Farm Road 1207. Immediately, 12-07 shot to mind. The date.
Leanne flew out of the vehicle, because she knew exactly what he was doing. Checking the knot.
“Is it the same one?” she asked.
“Yes,” Dalton said after muttering a few more curse words. The same ones she was thinking. He pulled a slip out of his pocket and then muttered more. “His aunt mentioned that he’d served time. Could explain why there haven’t been any murders in between Alexandria and Clara.”
“She also mentioned something about a traumatic childhood and not being from around here,” she said.
“And that he had a whole mess to deal with back at home.”
“There’s always a trigger with serial killers,” Leanne added as anger filled her.
“Get in.” Dalton was already reclaiming his seat.
“No, Dalton. Stop. Whatever you’re thinking is the wrong move.” She knew based on his actions that he wanted to go back and spend a few minutes alone with Hardy. “We don’t have proof and as much as I want to hurt him, if he’s the one responsible, we’ll only do more damage if we go vigilante.”
Dalton was the kind of man who was used to taking care of business himself. It was one of the attributes she admired most about him.
“I’m going back to ask a few more questions.” His white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel intensified.
“Let’s think this through first.” Sure, his anger was running high now. And she wanted revenge as much as he must. “We want the same things.”
“Then get in and put on your seat belt.” His voice was a low rumble.
“If he’s guilty, I want him to pay for the rest of his life, Dalton. I want him thrown behind bars so he can remember every day what he’s done. We go back there, find out it’s him and take his life, then what? He’s gone. It’s over for him. I want him to suffer for the rest of his life.”
Dalton stared out the windshield, but she could see that her words were making an impact.
“Let’s do this instead. Let’s call the sheriff and tell him what’s going on,” she said.
“What if it’s him? What if he runs and they don’t catch him? He’ll continue to walk free. He’ll hurt more girls and a helluva lot sooner this time.” The anger was still very much present in his words, but she was chipping away at his emotions by using logic. Dalton was a logical man. If she could continue to appeal to that side of him, she had a chance at doing this the right way.
“They’ll go after him. They’ll find him. And if they don’t, we will.”
“But I’m right here. I can take care of this right now. I can make sure that bastard never sees another sunset. As long as he’s breathing and free, he’ll find another target.” The intensity of his voice softened ever so slightly, but she could tell she was making headway.
“Let’s make the call. Do this the right way. He isn’t going anywhere. He doesn’t suspect a thing, Dalton. We have the element of surprise on our side, and Christmas isn’t for a few weeks. He’ll be right here. And now that the sheriff will know what he’s looking for, he’ll build a solid case that will make sure he doesn’t see daylight for the rest of his life.”
Dalton sat there, grinding his back teeth. She knew that the man in him wanted to take Hardy in his bare hands and squeeze the life out of him for what he’d done. It was primal, but Dalton was a good man. She had to believe that he’d act on reason. Or maybe if she was honest with him, she could give him a better emotional reason.
“I have a selfish reason for not wanting you to circle back, Dalton. I’m falling for you, hard. I’ve never felt this way about another man, and I want to figure out a way to see each other when this is all over. I can admit that I don’t know how it’ll work with our lives, but I want to try. See where this thing goes. I want us to have a chance. And we can’t do that if you’re behind bars.”
His gaze intensified on the road ahead. Finally, he ground out, “Make the call. Ask Sawmill if anyone saw pine needles around the parking lot or the tree.”
Leanne wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, and her heart leapt at the thought that he might want the same things.
He’d already pulled his cell out and he was checking the photos from the scene.
She wasted no time retrieving her cell from her purse and making the call to Sawmill. She intentionally left her door open so that Dalton couldn’t change his mind without talking to her first.
“They’re right there.” He cursed and showed her a picture of the base of the tree with pine needles nearby.
After relaying this new information to the sheriff, she ended the call and looked at Dalton. “He’s putting every available resource toward tracking down what happened to Hardy and his family. And Sawmill is on his way.”
“I need to go back and look him in the eyes right now,” Dalton said, his intensity returned. “I can’t walk away when I’m this close, Leanne.”
* * *
DALTON STALKED TOWARD the trees. If he cut a path straight through them, he could get to Hardy within minutes. Anger fueled his steps; fourteen years it had built up inside him like a simmering volcano, and he’d finally found the release valve.
Hardy needed to pay for what he’d done.
“Dalton, stop,” Leanne called after him, and he could tell she wasn’t far behind. Her voice broke through the ringing noise in his ears.
So much anger. So much pain. And the reason stood a football field away.
“We don’t have all the facts yet.” Leanne’s voice sounded desperate. And that dented some of his armor.
“I know all I need to.” He stomped through the underbrush of the nongroomed area of the tree farm.
“Please, stop,” she continued. “If we do this the wrong way, he could go scot-free. I know you don’t want that any more than I do. If you assault Hardy, you’ll be the one in trouble. The sheriff will be here any minute. Alexandria wouldn’t want you to go to jail, Dalton.”
Those words slowed his pace.
“From what I can gather, the two of you cared a great deal about each other. Ask yourself if this is what she would wish for you.” Damn those words were having an effect on him.
Maybe it would be better to think this through instead of acting on his rage. Thinking back, no good had ever come out of his making a decision or reacting from anger.
At this point, he didn’t care what happened to him—although that wasn’t completely true now that he’d found Leanne—but she made good points about Alexandria. One of the things he’d loved so much about her was her compassion.
The feeling of an explosion rocketed his chest.
Leanne was right. Alexandria wouldn’t want this.
Hardy deserved to spend the rest of his life in jail. He deserved to face punishment for what he’d done. He deserved to suffer for the innocent lives he’d cut short. He deserved to wake up every day knowing the pain he’d caused.
Taking in a sharp breath, he spun around. His action wasn’t fast enough to react to the large sharp rock being hurled at his head.
And then he blacked out.
* * *
DALTON BLINKED HIS eyes open. He lay sprawled out on the ground. His head hurt and his eyes burned. He brought his hand up to his forehead and immediately drew it back. Pain shot through him as everything came back to him in a jolt. Leanne.
Footsteps sounded nearby. More than one pair? Running away or coming toward him?
He’d been too caught up in his own anger befo
re to realize they were being hunted. He forced himself upright and scanned the area. She was being hunted. Clearly, Leanne was the one Hardy wanted, considering she was nowhere in sight.
The sounds of footsteps drew closer. Was Hardy coming back for round two in order to finish him off?
Dizziness made it difficult to get to his feet. A burst of adrenaline helped but nausea quickly followed. He stabilized himself by grabbing hold of a tree trunk.
A man in a brown uniform moved through the trees. Dalton recognized the sheriff immediately.
“Over here,” he said loud enough to get the sheriff’s attention and hopefully no one else’s. It occurred to Dalton a few moments too late that Hardy would know this land better than anyone else.
Sawmill shifted his direction toward the sound of Dalton’s voice. His eyes widened when he got close enough to look at him.
“I’ll call for an ambulance,” he said.
Dalton had ignored the liquid he felt running down the side of his face. He touched it and drew back his hand, his fingers now covered in blood.
“I’m fine,” he said. “He got Leanne.”
Deputy Granger came up behind the sheriff. He’d stood back and had been surveying the area.
“It’s clear,” he said.
“The address to the tree farm is 14 Pine Lane. The farm road is 1207. He hung both girls in a tree. And now the bastard has Leanne,” Dalton said.
“Let’s secure the area and interview the aunt and uncle,” Sawmill said.
“She said something traumatic happened in his past and that he’s served time.” Hardy could’ve taken Leanne anywhere on the property. He could’ve killed her already and buried her.
“Moved from where?” Sawmill asked.
“She didn’t say.”
“I want that interview now,” Sawmill barked.
Pamela was still in the shack with a small line of customers when they arrived a few minutes later.
“What happened?” she immediately asked, her gaze flying to Dalton’s forehead and the fresh blood. She burst out the side door. “Follow me. I have a first aid kit in the house.”