Lone Ranger

by VK Powell

  Carter shook her head. “Please, Ann.”

  “Carter, it’s time.” Ann’s voice had a hard, cold edge she’d never heard. “You need to hear this as much as Emma does.” Her tone softened and became almost a whisper. “I’d never do anything to hurt you. Please, just listen. I’ve held this inside too long.”

  Carter felt like Ann was about to dissect their lives and open old wounds for the world to see. She wrapped her arms around her middle to stay the sick feeling.

  “Now, if I remember, the last installment of the story ended when I found out Cass was pregnant by that scumbag Theodore Thompson.”

  Emma nodded.

  “We didn’t see each other for a while, as you can imagine. I was pretty devastated. One night out of the blue she called and asked to see me. She wanted to meet at the furniture factory because she was closing up after the cleaning crew left. She said Thompson was probably with one of his other women.”

  Ann rocked as she talked, her gaze focused on the ceiling as if seeing her story unfold like a movie. “I bundled little Carter up and drove into town. I parked the truck in the alley beside Tanner’s drugstore, and we walked to the factory, keeping to the shadows. The streets were mostly deserted because it was colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra.”

  Carter suppressed a grin and shook her head at Emma. The little smile that curved Emma’s lips did more to reassure Carter than anything in the past several days.

  “You two stop making goo-goo eyes at each other and listen. Here’s where it gets interesting. Cass got there around ten forty-five, and we walked through the plant to make sure nobody else was there. We ended up by the discard chip pile, and she told me the best news I’d heard in years. She’d decided to leave Thompson and live with me, convention be damned.”

  Emma shivered beside her. “Cass finally came to her senses. What happened next?”

  Ann smiled, and her eyes sparked like a fire had reignited inside her. “I kissed her within an inch of her life, that’s what. I was completely lost in that kiss and will remember it in slow motion as long as I live.”

  “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” Emma sighed and gave Carter her hungry look that had made Carter want to kiss her the first time.

  Carter felt tears welling in her eyes. “You never told me this before.”

  “I never told you, darling, because of what happened next. We were so happy at that moment neither of us saw or heard it coming.”

  “Saw or heard what?” Emma moved closer to the edge of her seat, reached for Carter’s hand, and then quickly withdrew.

  “Theodore burst out of the shadows, running toward us like a mad bull. He’d followed Cass from their house. His face was bright red, and he was yelling and cussing, calling us vile names. He head butted Cass in the stomach at a full run and knocked her for a loop.”

  “Oh my God,” Carter and Emma said in unison.

  Carter clenched her fists and felt the blood rush to her face. “That son-of-a-bitch. What happened then?”

  “Well—”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t answer that,” Emma said.

  A few seconds later, Emma’s warning registered, and Carter glanced at her. “Emma has a good point. I can see the headlines now: Female Lover Kills Husband in Jealous Rage.”

  “Be quiet, both of you. The truth is coming out, and I’d rather you hear it from me before I tell the cops.” Ann took another swig of brandy. “You can imagine when he hit Cass, I was all over him. I could smell the booze then. He kept swinging and missing, and I kept landing punches. Carter was scared, crying in a corner, and Cass crawled over and shielded her. Thompson and I took a couple more swings before I landed a good one right on his nose. It opened up like a gusher.”

  “You go, Ann. Give it to him.” Emma was on her feet cheering like she was at a boxing match. Then she froze. “Oh, shit.”

  “Yeah,” Carter said. “She just admitted assaulting a murder victim. The good news is Thompson was still alive at this point.” She pulled Emma back down on the sofa, praying she would keep an open mind.

  “And then what?” Emma asked.

  “I collected my little family and left. The last time I saw Thompson, he was wallowing on the floor next to the chip pile holding a handkerchief to his bloody snout. And just so there’s no confusion, I didn’t have a weapon of any kind, and he was very much alive when we left.”

  “Is that the last time you saw him?” Emma’s tone was flat, making the question sound like a police inquiry.

  “Yes. I helped Cass off the floor and scooped Carter up in my arms. She was still crying when we walked down Main Street to the car. We hadn’t gotten very far when Cass started having abdominal pains. I tried to call an ambulance on the pay phone, but it was out of order.”

  “Oh, no.” Emma wiped tears from her cheeks. “Is that what happened to the baby?”

  “We got to the hospital just as Cass started bleeding. She lost the baby a few hours later. The doctor kept her for observation. Carter wouldn’t let go of her hand, so we slept on a rollaway right beside her.”

  Carter’s chest was tight. She coughed for a clear breath, and her cheeks burned from tears. She grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and dabbed her eyes. The tears kept coming. Ann had fought for their family and might have to do so again. Carter would do the same to save her. Whatever it took.

  Emma scooted closer and pulled Carter to her side. She rocked back and forth as Carter cried. “You’re all right. Ann is going to be okay too. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Ann squeezed onto the sofa with them and put her arm around Carter’s shoulder. “There’s no need to cry, my sweet girl. I didn’t do anything terribly wrong, and the three of us had a great life, didn’t we?”

  Carter nodded.

  “This was the second trauma and the reason Carter didn’t speak for months.” Emma’s question sounded more like a statement.

  “Is that right?” Carter asked.

  “Yes, darling, it is.” Ann rubbed her back and tried to calm her.

  “And this is what you’ve been keeping from me all these years? Oh, Ann, I’m so sorry. I knew something bad had happened, but I couldn’t figure out what.”

  “You probably thought I killed the bastard. That’s why you’ve stayed so close through the years, never going after your dreams or falling in love, even when I told you I was fine.”

  “I never believed you killed him.” Carter held Ann’s gaze. “Really. Never.”

  “You’ve always thought I gave a flying rat’s ass what the people in this town thought of me—then or now. You wanted to protect me from the story, from the police, and from Emma.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “It was ancient history. You didn’t remember what happened, and the story died down over the years.”

  “Can you ever forgive me?” Carter rested her head on Ann’s shoulder.

  “There’s nothing to forgive, child. I was protecting you, and you thought you were doing the same for me. That’s what families do.”

  She and Ann held each other and cried, purging years of secrets and pain and comforting each other in the process. They’d devoted much of their lives to shielding each other from a harm that didn’t exist.

  After they stopped crying, Ann gave Carter a final hug and rose from her sofa. “That completes my portion of this evening’s entertainment. I’ll give my statement to the sheriff and Ms. BCI tomorrow. You’re welcome to come along if you want a repeat of the story.”

  “Of course I’ll come with you,” Carter said.

  Emma wiped her eyes again and cleared her throat. “Before you leave, Ann, I’d like to apologize to you and Carter for the problems I’ve caused with this article. I never meant to hurt anyone, especially you. I’m meeting with someone tonight who might know the truth about how Thompson died. He’s been reluctant to come forward until now.”

  “It’s just a big misunderstanding. Billie’s going to take care of
everything.” Carter’s voice lacked the conviction she’d hoped to relay, and Ann rolled her eyes.

  “Well, that’s certainly my cue to leave,” Ann said. “The two of you have some talking to do. And just for the record, Emma, I don’t believe one measly word that comes out of that fake Dolly Parton’s mouth. I know you’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ann.”

  Carter hugged Ann. “I love you. Wait for me at the office. I’ll pick you up shortly.”

  “Take your time. You have things to say.” Ann kissed her cheek and closed the door behind her.

  When Carter turned around, Emma was sitting rigid on the sofa like a soldier waiting for orders. Carter wanted to go to her but couldn’t without touching and reassuring her. She’d need all her concentration and courage to get through this conversation. “Can we talk?” Carter twisted her cat’s-eye necklace, hoping Cass would send some divine intervention.

  “That’s probably a good idea. We need a strategy to protect Ann.”

  Carter was momentarily taken aback. She’d been thinking of a more personal topic, but how would Emma know that? “The truth is our strategy. Ann won’t have it any other way. Actually, I meant a talk about…us.”

  “Carter, I’m in love with you. You don’t have to say anything because I saw you and Donovan this morning. I know you spent the night with her. The only thing left for me here is to find the murderer.”

  Emma’s voice was strained, trembling at the end, and Carter started toward her but stopped. She’s in love with me? She stared at the old wooden floor. Why had she even considered getting more involved with Billie? How could she make Emma understand she’d been trying to help Ann? “I’d like to explain.”

  “You went home with her last night?” The words sounded forced.

  “Yes. I mean, no. I went to her hotel but—” The room closed in on her as she struggled for an answer, and Emma drifted farther away.

  “And you had…sex…with her.” Emma almost spat the words between choking sounds.

  It should be so easy to just say no, but she’d considered having sex with Billie. Carter wanted to explain how her feelings had shifted. Carter’s necklace was knotted at her throat and she kept turning. Her words and her tongue were as twisted as the chain of her necklace.

  “Where’s that Carter West honesty?” Emma tried to laugh but coughed instead. “Did you have sex with her? Please say it, so I can move on like I did with Sheri. I can’t do this again.”

  “But I don’t want you to move on.” Carter’s world was turning on end. Ann’s confession and now Emma’s admission had stirred too much emotion at once. She retreated to her quiet, safe place. Her words wouldn’t come. She needed time to think, process what she wanted to say. She always choked at emotional conversations on the fly, but Emma wasn’t in the mood to give her more time. “I can explain.”

  “I’ll survive without a play-by-play of sex with Donovan. I get the picture.” Emma fumbled with her watch.

  “But, Emma…I…like…you. I mean…I—” Carter’s next words were frozen on her lips by Emma’s icy blue stare.

  “I see.”

  “No, you don’t.” Carter’s chest tightened, and for a second she felt light-headed. Emma loved her. Tell her you love her too. Do it now.

  Emma glanced at her watch again, jumped from the sofa, and ran toward the door. “It’s almost eleven, and I have to meet someone.” She grabbed her messenger bag and looked back at Carter one final time. “I hope you’ll be happy with Donovan. You deserve it. But please be careful with her. She’s not what she seems.”

  “But…” Carter started after her, but Emma slammed the door. “Wait…”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “You idiot!” Emma ran from the cabin to her car, trying to outrun the events of this night. She’d blurted her feelings to Carter, only to have her evade the question about having sex with Donovan. Her words had exploded like something foul and putrid, destroying their one beautiful night together. Game over.

  How could she have been so wrong? She’d known from the beginning that Carter was a player, but she’d thought their attraction was strong enough to hold her, at least until they fell in love. She should’ve known better, based on her track record.

  She’d gone into their affair backward, disregarded her internal warnings because of chemistry. She’d felt a connection with Carter she’d never experienced before, a joining of kindred spirits and an unparalleled passion. With each recrimination, the pain in her chest circulated faster. She pressed her palm against the pressure and cried out. Her stomach churned, and she swallowed the bitter taste bubbling up. How do people recover from feelings this powerful?

  Emma rolled down the windows, and the inside temperature dropped quickly. She welcomed the cold damp air to soothe her raw emotions. Her skin prickled and her hair whipped into an uncontrollable mass. As she raced toward Stuart, teeth chattering, she forced her thoughts away from losing Carter and back to the Thompson murder.

  Her instincts about Ann had been right, but now she needed to prove Ann’s innocence beyond any doubt. Donovan wasn’t interested in letting Ann off the hook. Her freedom didn’t fit with Donovan’s plan for Carter. But in Emma’s opinion, Billie Donovan didn’t fit into Carter and Ann’s life, whether Emma was in it or not. As Emma had watched Carter and Ann support and comfort each other tonight, she realized they’d always be a part of her understanding of family and love, even if she never saw them again once her assignment ended.

  She pulled up to the back door of the warehouse where Clem Stevens worked and parked beside an old pickup truck. Sheriff Echols wasn’t here yet, but she didn’t intend to wait. If this was her only chance to help Ann, she didn’t want to blow it by being late. She brushed and patted her tangled hair but gave up on taming it. She silenced the phone’s ringer, opened the voice-memo app, and slid it into her coat pocket.

  She entered the door, leaving it unlocked for the sheriff and Donovan. The huge room housed loading pallets stacked almost to the roof, their contents obscured by green plastic wrap. Overhead fluorescent lighting flickered sporadically, alternating dim light with eerie shadows. She followed a narrow path through the slanted walls and called out. Her words seemed to fall around her, absorbed by the overstuffed room.

  She wandered farther into the storehouse, wishing with every step she’d waited for the sheriff. What if this was a trap set by the murderer? What if Donovan had arranged it so Emma would be killed, and she could have Carter? But she already had Carter.

  “Mr. Stevens?” Emma called as she walked. “Mr. Stevens, are you here?”

  “What’s the matter, Ferguson? Your source didn’t show?”

  The voice behind Emma sent a spark of fear through her. She whirled around to Donovan, who stood with hands on her hips, looking too perfect in all black.

  “I really wish you’d stop sneaking up on me.”

  Donovan’s self-satisfied grin irritated Emma even more today, since she’d spent the night with Carter. She fought the urge to rip the tailored ninja suit off her shapely body. “I didn’t see your car out back.”

  “I parked in front. So, where’s your informant?”

  “Don’t worry. He’ll show up, and when he does, I’ll finally get the facts I need to clear Ann from your bogus suspicion.”

  “Have you forgotten you gave me the information implicating Ann in the first place, Emma dear?”

  “I’m not sure who told you about Ann and Cass, but it certainly wasn’t me.”

  “But we’re the only ones who know that. As far as Ann and Carter are concerned, you’re the bad guy, not me.”

  “I don’t think that’ll last. It’s just a matter of time before the truth comes out. You can’t fool Carter for long.”

  Donovan laughed out loud and slid a hand over her breasts and down her torso. “I wouldn’t count on that. After last night, Carter’s all mine. You should’ve been there, Ferguson. Want me to tell you what
happened?”

  Emma’s stomach roiled. She burned with anger, but her heart bled with each hurtful word. Donovan had gouged her wound and broken it open again. She was paralyzed by her feelings, unable to move or respond. She prayed to disappear, but instead a faint voice pulled her back to her purpose.

  “Ms. Ferguson, is that you?”

  Flashing Donovan an I-told-you-so look, Emma turned and called out, “Mr. Stevens, I’m here. Where are you?”

  “Follow the yellow overhead lights. I’m up in the office.”

  “Who is this Stevens person anyway?” Donovan asked.

  “Be quiet for once and listen. Maybe you’ll learn something.” Emma heard a noise from behind a stack of bundled paper towels and hoped it was Sheriff Echols finally joining them.

  She and Donovan followed the overhead lights into a clearing, where the office was constructed on a raised platform in the center of the space. The half-glass, half-aluminum sides made it resemble a hovering spacecraft grounded only at two corners by heavy metal steps. The landing provided an excellent perch for supervisors to keep an eye on employees.

  Emma climbed the stairs and entered the front of the office as an elderly black man entered from the back. He had salt-and-pepper hair, wore creased khaki pants and a white shirt, and stood tall as he walked. Emma’s immediate impression of Clem Stevens was of a proud man who would make a great witness.

  “Are you Ms. Ferguson?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you for agreeing to meet me, Mr. Stevens.” Emma offered her hand and was impressed with his firm handshake and direct eye contact.

  “Call me Clem.” He pointed behind her. “This doesn’t look like the sheriff.”

  “He’s on his way. This is Agent Donovan with Virginia BCI. She’s working the case.”

  Clem shook his head. “I only want to tell this story once.”

  “He should be along any minute.” Emma pulled her phone out of her pocket, tapped a couple of times, and placed it on the table between them. “We can get started, if you don’t mind. I’ll catch him up when he gets here.”