DON'T TELL (Jack Ryder Book 7)

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DON'T TELL (Jack Ryder Book 7) Page 4

by Willow Rose


  "Thanks, Bridget," Jack said. "A table for seven?"

  Betsy Sue cleared her throat and looked at Shannon for help.

  "Don't forget Billy," she said while Tyler pulled her arm to get to a big bear statue standing in the corner next to an old map of the area.

  Jack gave her a look. "I can't keep setting up an extra seat for him everywhere we go."

  Shannon tilted her head, her eyes pleading. Jack glanced at Betsy Sue, then sighed.

  Bridget looked from one to the other, then down at the girl, her face lighting up in a big smile.

  "We have a perfect table for eight down in the corner," she said and winked at the girl.

  "Thank you," Jack said. "That would be perfect."

  Bridget showed them to their table, and as soon as they stepped closer, Shannon realized why it hadn't been possible for Jack to reach anyone at the sheriff's office. At a huge table next to where Bridget seated them sat a handful of men all in the same uniform.

  9

  "It's usually a good sign when the police eat here," Shannon said and sat down, placing Tyler next to her. "That's what my mom always told me."

  The kids each found a seat, even Billy, and I was about to sit down too when Deputy Winston spotted me from his seat.

  "Hey there," he said. "Ryder, right?"

  "I should go say hello," I said to Shannon.

  She nodded in agreement.

  I walked over and shook hands with Deputy Winston. "This is Detective Ryder that I told you about. The guy from the crash yesterday."

  The others nodded. A heavy guy, probably twice my size and a little older than the rest, reached out his hand.

  "Nice to meet you, Detective. I'm Sheriff Franklin. Winston tells me you're from Florida?"

  "Cocoa Beach Police Department. Used to work at the Brevard County Sheriff's Office but you know…" I said and glanced at my family.

  "Too many kids to take care of?" The sheriff asked. "We know how that is. Beautiful family."

  "Thanks. Listen…I actually called your office just a few minutes ago to ask about that woman…the one from the crash last night. Do you have any news about her? Did she make it?"

  The sheriff cleared his throat. "She's still alive, but not conscious."

  I breathed in relief. "But she'll survive?"

  "They don't know yet," Winston said. "The crash caused a lot of damage to her brain, they say."

  I nodded. "Okay. At least she’s still alive. We've been so worried. That was a bad crash. I just hope she'll make it."

  Sheriff Franklin chewed a piece of pancake and cleared his throat. "Not that it’s any of your concern, but you might want to know that she was running away from the scene of a crime."

  I wrinkled my forehead. "She was?"

  "Murder," Winston said.

  "Really?"

  "We don't know the details yet, but she was seen leaving a house where we later found the body of a man, fatally shot in the chest. We found traces of his blood in the car that crashed and on the steering wheel. We took samples of the blood on her hands too and found the blood on hers was mixed with that of our dead man."

  "We got one of them magic boxes," Winston said. "You know…the rapid DNA machines."

  I knew what they were talking about and knew many police departments all over the country had gotten them within the past ten months. The magic box was a machine that provided results in ninety minutes, and the police could operate them themselves. It was called a revolution in DNA processing since we'd usually have to wait days for the same results from a lab. I was impressed that they had gotten one of these out here in the mountains when we were still waiting for ours at CBPD.

  "So, you think she killed him?" I asked.

  Sheriff Franklin finished chewing and sipped his coffee, slurping it. He seemed like a man who liked to take his time to think before he spoke.

  He put his cup down, then got up and put his hat on, then tipped it. "We do. If she ever wakes up, we'll charge her as the first thing. It was nice to meet you, Detective. Enjoy skiing and your family."

  10

  Maggie Valley 2017

  He took her to meet his family. For Savannah, that was a big step after only three dates, but Benjamin insisted that they wanted to meet her. He picked her up at the campground and drove her to his house, while she stared out the window, nervously fiddling with the edge of her shirt.

  "Are you okay?" he asked.

  Savannah nodded, biting her lip. "I’m fine."

  It was a lie. She was everything but fine. She had no idea how his family would react when he brought home a girl like her. She wasn't exactly in his league. Benjamin was a pastor's son and his family was influential in this town; whereas Savannah was a poor girl who had no father and lived in a trailer park. They owned it, yes, but still. They had spent all they had on buying the campground and couldn't even afford a proper house for themselves.

  Benjamin chuckled, then put his hand on her thigh. "They're going to love you. Don't worry. As soon as they realize how crazy I am about you, they'll welcome you with open arms."

  Savannah forced a nervous smile, then looked out the windshield as they drove up to the house. She gasped when Benjamin stopped the truck in front of a beautiful old Queen Anne style house with decorated gables and a three-story tower anchoring the center, topped by a spire. As Benjamin held the door for her, Savannah got out, then felt like she was being watched and looked up at the double-story porch that extended across the front, where she spotted a figure standing there, looking down at them. In the distance, she could hear the rippling creek that went through most of the town and also through the Rutherford property. Benjamin had talked about it and how he and his sister would often go fishing during summer break and how he couldn't wait to take Savannah there as well. Savannah wasn't very fond of water, but she hadn't told him that.

  "That's my sister," he said and waved at the girl standing up on the porch. "You're gonna love her."

  Benjamin pulled her by the hand and onto the porch, while Savannah wondered if this was a good idea. She didn't have a comfortable feeling about it. Maybe she was just nervous.

  "Mom, Dad? This is Savannah," Benjamin exclaimed as soon as he had dragged her through the door.

  A tall and very blonde woman came down the stairs, walking with style and elegance, looking almost like she was floating lightly across the floor as she approached her. She had an air of arrogance, and the way she looked down at her made Savannah feel even smaller than she already was. The woman smiled, but it didn't seem friendly to Savannah. Not when it was combined with an elevator stare that made her regret having worn those ripped jeans that Benjamin had promised her wouldn't be a problem.

  "So, this is Savannah. We’ve heard so much about you," his mother said and reached out a cold hand that Savannah shook with a nervous chuckle. She grew bewildered by her aloof tone.

  "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Rutherford."

  "I want you to meet Penelope," Benjamin said, then yelled up the stairs. "Penny! Come down here!"

  He gave her a look of excitement while they waited, and Savannah tried to hide just how awful she felt. Benjamin's mother's eyes were on her constantly, like she was studying her every feature to find out what her son could possibly like about her, wondering why he had dragged her home with him, why her of all the girls he could have chosen.

  "PENNY!" Benjamin yelled, and his mother scolded him for yelling inside the house before she went into the kitchen. Penny still didn't show herself, but the dad did. He came out of his study, looking at his son, not even seeing Savannah.

  "Benjamin, why are you yelling?"

  "Dad, this is Savannah, the girl I’ve told you about."

  The father forced a smile. "Hello, Savannah. Nice to meet you. Now, you two be quiet, please. I am working on my next sermon."

  "It was nice to meet you, Pastor Rutherford," she said. "I enjoy your sermons very much."

  The father grumbled something, that sounded like a thank you,
then turned around and went back into his study. As Savannah turned around, someone was standing right behind her, and the shock made her jump.

  "There you are!" Benjamin said as he turned around as well. "About time. Didn't you hear me call?"

  The girl in front of them stared at Savannah up and down. She was a year and a half younger than them but looked to be about the same age. She was gorgeous and taller than Savannah, just like their mother, making her almost intimidating. Her straight blonde hair fell heavily on her shoulders, and her bright green eyes sparkled behind her bangs. Her skin was pale and her lips so ruby red they stood out in her face.

  Savannah smiled. She had been looking forward to finally meeting Penny, whom Benjamin spoke about so much. She hoped that they could become friends so that she would have an ally in the house.

  "Hi, Penny, I’m Savannah," she said and reached out her hand. She had thought about how to greet her while they drove there. She knew Penny was important to Benjamin, so she wanted to make a good impression on her more than anyone. But what was the best way to greet a boyfriend's sister for the first time? Did you hug her? Did you shake hands? In the car, she had decided that shaking hands was too formal, too grown up, yet there she was, holding out her hand for Penny to shake.

  Penny stared at her hand, then looked up at Benjamin and smiled, almost beamed when their eyes met. She then threw herself into his arms in a warm embrace. He laughed and lifted her in the air, then spun around, while Penny's eerie glare met Savannah's and she felt her stomach churn.

  11

  "So, she was a fugitive?" Shannon asked.

  I shrugged. We were sitting in the lift, being hauled up the mountain, the freezing air biting our cheeks. Beneath us, people were skiing the slopes, and my stomach fluttered at the thought of me being one of them in a few minutes. I couldn't wait. My snowboard dangled beneath me as I looked at Shannon.

  We had dropped all the kids off at the ski school and signed the seemingly thousands of papers, then kissed each one of them and left. It had taken Shannon a few minutes before she was ready to leave Tyler, so we had stayed to watch them on the bunny slope for a little while to make sure he was all right. As we saw him wave and smile widely after his first ride down the small hill, we knew it was going to be okay and left. The instructors seemed nice and very competent. Now, I couldn't wait to snowboard with my love and have a little time for just the two of us doing something that we both loved.

  "I guess so," I said. "It makes sense. It explains why she crashed and why she was speeding."

  Shannon looked pensive as we were lifted higher and higher up.

  "What's wrong?" I asked.

  She shook her head. "It's nothing."

  "Come on; I know you," I said. "I can tell you're thinking about something. You get that look on your face like you want to say something, but you're holding it back."

  Shannon sighed. "Well…it's just that…I looked her in the eyes, Jack. I saw her right before she crashed, and all I saw was this…this intense, deep fear. She was scared, Jack. I can't stop thinking about how terrified she looked. I’ve never seen anything like it."

  I nodded while looking down at a snowboarder who didn't seem to know how to stop and ended up sitting down, then sliding a few yards before he stopped.

  "We don't know her motives or if she killed this guy or what was going on in her life," I said. "But I do know that if you're running away from the police, most people would be scared too. She had lost control of her car; that's pretty scary too."

  Shannon exhaled. "It's just…I think it was more than that."

  The lift ended at the top of the mountain, and we slid out of it, then glided down to the beginning of the black slope that the locals had named OMIGOSH. I put on my gloves and latched my helmet, then smiled at Shannon.

  "This is our vacation," I said. "How about we let it go? The police are dealing with this, and there really isn't anything else we can do. Plus, we’re here to enjoy ourselves, remember?"

  She smiled and lifted her eyebrows. "Look who's talking. You’re never able to let go."

  That made me laugh.

  "Touché. Race you to the bottom," I yelled.

  I got myself ready to slide down the slope, then sent her a happy smile before tipping over the edge and riding down. As the cold air hit my face and I felt the joy lift me up, I still couldn't stop thinking about the truck I had seen drive away from the scene. What was it doing there and why was the driver in such a rush to get away when I spotted it? I hated to admit that Shannon was right, but something about this whole affair didn't feel good.

  12

  They picked up the kids to have lunch with them. Shannon felt exhausted—and a little sore—from hours of skiing, yet she couldn't stop smiling. It felt good to be back on the slopes again, and it was nice to have some alone time with Jack doing something they both loved. Even though Shannon got the feeling that Jack had been a little frustrated most of the morning, not quite able to make his snowboarding work. Shannon kept telling him it had been so many years that it was only natural that he needed extra time to get back into it. But proud as he was, he wouldn't admit it, even when he fell again and again and yelled angrily at the snow.

  "I hate it."

  The words came out of Austin's mouth as soon as he spotted his dad. Shannon grabbed Tyler in her arms and lifted him up. He was one big smile and had obviously enjoyed it. Angela and Betsy Sue seemed to have had a great time too, and Abigail said she loved every second of it.

  "What do you mean, you hate it?" Jack asked, surprised. "You've been at it for three hours. You can't possibly know after that short of a time."

  Austin looked at his father. "I do. I hate it. I hate the snow and how wet it is; I hate snowboarding; I hate falling; I hate the lifts. I hate everything about it, even the teachers except for Lyle; he’s nice."

  Jack sighed. Shannon felt a knot growing in her stomach. She knew how much Jack wanted his children to love snowboarding the same way he had always loved it and loved surfing. But he seemed to have forgotten—or ignored—the fact that Austin didn't enjoy surfing either. Austin wasn't the boy that Jack wanted him to be, and he kept falling short of his expectations. Austin enjoyed sitting inside and drawing or playing computer games, whereas Jack had always been the outdoorsy type who constantly wanted his son to come outside and skateboard or surf or climb trees. But that wasn't who Austin was, and in all the years Shannon had been with them, she had seen how he constantly failed to realize this. His twin sister, Abigail, was the tomboy. She enjoyed all that stuff that Jack did, but not Austin. And Shannon feared for the boy's self-worth if Jack kept this up. Would he end up thinking he wasn't enough for his dad if he constantly felt like a disappointment to him? Of course, he would.

  Shannon hadn't wanted to meddle in how Jack raised the twins since he always got so defensive if she said anything, but she wasn't sure she could keep watching him do this to the boy over and over again. He was about to reach an age where he needed his dad's support more than ever.

  "Nonsense, you just need to give it another try," Jack said and started to walk up the wooden stairs to the restaurant. Shannon followed, her heavy boots slamming hard into the surface of the steps.

  "But I don't want to. I don't want to go back there ever," Austin said after him, but Jack was already up on the porch, and couldn't hear the boy, or maybe he was just pretending like he couldn't. Meanwhile, the girls all followed him closely, chatting and laughing, talking about how starving they were.

  Shannon exhaled, then put Tyler down so he could walk the rest of the way on his own. She smiled at Austin, whose eyes had turned wet, then reached out and took his hand in hers.

  "Let's get something to eat. Everything looks better on a full stomach, huh? I heard they have hot chocolate. I think hot chocolate is exactly what you and I need right now."

  13

  The figure in the long dark coat watched the children as they skied or snowboarded down the small slope, huge grins on
their faces, some shouting with joy, others cheering loudly. It was the afternoon session, and they had just come back from their lunch break when the figure had arrived to watch. The figure stood at a distance among a small flock of parents who had been told they could watch, but not go beyond the fence. Some were clapping, others cheering loudly, but the figure didn't. The figure stood like it was frozen and simply observed.

  Not all the children on the slope were happy, though. There was one kid, a boy, who kept sobbing and crying every time he fell. The figure watched as he was helped back up and then urged to try again. The boy cried and said he didn't want to, that he didn't like it. The teacher turned to another instructor for help, and they talked for a few seconds, then the first one told the boy that he could sit down for a few minutes, take a break, and then come back up with the others.

  The figure's eyes followed the young instructor as he went back up the slope to the group of children and they started to descend one after another, sliding down the hill, some ending in falls, others lifting their arms in the air in excitement. Meanwhile, the boy from earlier unhinged his snowboard and walked to the side, dragging the board and throwing it in the snow, then sat down, sniffling.

  The instructor let the others come down one after another, and they continued like that for about fifteen minutes before the instructor finally approached the boy again, kneeling next to him. The figure watched the two of them have a longer chat, and the boy kept shaking his head heavily and saying no so loud that everyone standing there could hear it. The instructor then looked up at the others and signaled that he would take the boy inside. His colleagues both gave him a thumbs-up, then focused on the other kids while the instructor helped the boy get up and they walked back inside the building housing the ski school.

 

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