Town Darling (16 page)

T
he fairground was busy that
afternoon.  Locals and out-of-towners had volunteered to scrub the buildings
and prepare the grounds for the upcoming fair.  The parking field was being
roped off and signs were pounded into the ground to help direct traffic flow. 
Former sheriff Wiley played with the sound system at the stage furthest from
the main entrance.  It made an ear-piercing screech that caused everyone within
earshot to grimace and turn.  Abby stopped her luxury golf cart and glared at
Wiley.  He grinned his apologies.  Ernest and Mayor Lance stood on stage and
shook their heads while pointing at Wiley at the sound system toward the back. 
Abby drove up to the stage and joined her husband and brother.  Wiley continued
to fiddle with several switches.  When his sound check didn’t shatter any
eardrums, it was obvious he’d gotten in right.  Vaughn approached Wiley and the
sound system from across the fairgrounds.  Wiley glanced at him, grinned, and
returned to his duties.

“What brings you out this
way, Vaughn?” Wiley asked.  “Pre-bachelor auction jitters?”

“You’re a funny man,”
Vaughn scoffed.  “Don’t quit your day job.”

Wiley looked at him and
uncertainly sat on the table.  “You look a little distracted.  I’m guessing
it’s something more than putting your butt on the auction block.”

“I’m way beyond
distracted,” Vaughn informed him sternly.  “I’m disturbed and possibly sickened
by something I’d just read in Catherine Remington’s journal.”

Wiley stared at Vaughn with
a look of surprise.  “Catherine Remington’s journal?  I don’t remember anything
about a journal.”

“Casey gave it to me,” he
replied and waved his hand.  “We’re getting off subject.”  Vaughn tensed while
staring at Wiley.  “She filed an assault report against Wayne Harford six
months before she was killed.”  He was unusually silent then raised his brows
and continued.  “I searched every file we have, and I didn’t find any report.”

Wiley stared at Vaughn and
appeared frozen.  Vaughn stared back and didn’t blink.

Vaughn slowly nodded and
appeared to understand the silence.  “You know what I’m talking about, don’t
you?  What happened to that report, Wiley?”

Wiley took a deep breath,
uncertainly looked around, and then took Vaughn by the arm.  “Let’s walk.”

The two men walked away
from the stage area and into a large clearing void of activity.  Vaughn
continued to cast glares at Wiley, who appeared reluctant to speak as they
walked.

“Yes, Catherine filed a
complaint against Wayne for attempted sexual assault,” he reluctantly
remarked.  “I took down every word she said, believing every word she said.”

Vaughn stopped and forced
him to face him.  His look was stern and harsh.  “What happened to that report,
Wiley?”

There was a long silence. 
Wiley frowned.  “Ernest happened.”

Vaughn looked up, shook his
head with disbelief, and almost laughed.  He looked back at Wiley and glared
his annoyance.  “You let Ernest bully you into burying a sexual assault
complaint against his son?  The bastard intended to rape Catherine Remington. 
The only reason he didn’t succeed is because
she
stopped him.  How could
you allow something like this?”

“I didn’t allow it,
Vaughn,” Wiley protested then fell silent and appeared ashamed.  “I buried the
report to protect her; to protect the Remington’s.”  He took a deep, shaken
breath and stared across the fairgrounds at nothing.  “There had been a lot of
talk going around town that year.  Rumor had it Brandon Remington was going to
run for mayor.  The powers that be didn’t like it.”  He finally looked back at
Vaughn.  “Ernest came to me with Wayne’s side of the story.  His version would
have caused such a scandal; it would have destroyed any chances Brandon had to
win an election.”  Wiley appeared exhausted.  “Yes, Ernest wanted me to bury
the complaint, but I didn’t do it to keep my job.  I buried Catherine’s
complaint so Brandon would be angry enough to run for mayor.”

“That’s wrong, Wiley,”
Vaughn scoffed.  “You manipulated the law.  That’s what we’ve been trying so
hard to put an end to.  Brandon was going to run anyway.”

Wiley shook his head with a
defeated look.  “No, he wasn’t,” he replied softly.  “I had to turn him against
me, it was the only way.”

Vaughn shook his head and
looked away with disgust.  “That complaint could have made the difference in
our search for Catherine and Brandon’s killer.”

“I know you think Wayne did
it, Vaughn, but it couldn’t have been him,” Wiley announced.  “As much as I’d
love to pin it on them myself, they didn’t do it.  Even Casey admitted the man
who attacked her couldn’t have been Wayne.  He’s too big.”

“Then it was Ryan or
Blain,” Vaughn interjected.

“We’ve checked their alibis
a hundred times,” Wiley replied.  “They checked out every time.  If you really
want to solve the murders, you’ll need to come up with a different suspect.”

†

V
aughn entered his office
with a look of disgust and flopped down in his worn chair behind the desk.  He
leaned back, clasped his hands over his abdomen, and immediately looked at the
ceiling.

“What could have been done
differently?” Vaughn asked softly aloud to no one.  “If Catherine had reported
it to me, would it have made a difference?  Or were the Remington’s sentenced
to death no matter what?”

He shook his head with
disgust, leaned forward, and rubbed his already tired eyes.

“The answer’s in her
journal,” Vaughn muttered.  “I need to go back further.”

Vaughn removed his keys and
reached for the upper, right hand drawer.  He stared at the drawer and suddenly
hesitated.  The wood had fresh splinters along the edge.  Vaughn tossed his
keys aside and pulled open the drawer.  The journal was gone!

“No, no!” Vaughn cried out
and rummaged through the drawer in vain.

He violently slammed the
drawer and pushed his chair away with such force, it struck the wall.  Vaughn
sprang to his feet and looked around the office while attempting to control his
rising temper.  His body trembled as he put his hand to his forehead several
times while searching for some answer.

“It wasn’t Wiley,” he
insisted softly.  “He wouldn’t have done this.”  He remained deep in thought
while scratching his brow.  Vaughn suddenly looked up and appeared enraged. 
“Son-of-a-bitch!”  He violently kicked the desk, jolting it several inches.  He
collapsed into his chair, groaned, and covered his eyes.  “Casey’s going to
kill me.”

†

I
t was after two in the
morning on Sunday.  The tavern’s parking lot was nearly empty, with most of the
locals finding their way home after a long night of drinking and rowdy
adventures.  The few trucks remaining out front belonged to those with no place
better to be or the few workers attempting to clean up.  Wiley counted the
register while Dina swept the floor.  She was the last waitress remaining,
since it was her turn to close-up with Wiley.  A few hard-core drinkers
remained at the bar and attempted to talk Wiley into one more round.  At this
time of night, he no longer acknowledged them.  It was the only way to get them
to leave.  Once Dina finished with the floor, she began straightening chairs. 
Her attention briefly shifted to the corner table.  Dina’s mother sat slumped
in her chair with her elbows on the table and attempted to hold up her head
with her hand.  She fumbled with her drink, the glass stained with red lipstick
prints.  Olivia dropped the glass and it shattered on the floor, alerting Wiley
and the remaining patrons to the drunken woman’s presence.  She looked up and
appeared unable to focus.  For the first time, she stared directly at Dina as
her body swayed with intoxication.

“What are you looking at?”
Olivia scoffed in a low, slurred voice.

It was possible she didn’t
even recognize her own daughter these days, not that it mattered, because she
didn’t acknowledge she had a daughter for many years.  Dina frowned with
disgust and returned to straightening chairs.

“Go home, Dina,” Wiley
announced from across the bar.

She looked at him and
appeared surprised.  “But I still have--”

“I’ve got it,” he replied
firmly then offered a tiny smile.  “Go on.  Get out of here.”

Dina smiled gratefully. 
“Thanks, Wiley.”

He gave a slight wave. 
Dina tossed her apron onto the bar, accepted her purse from Wiley from behind
the bar, and hurried for the door.  She glanced back only briefly.  Olivia was
now slumped over the table out cold.  Dina headed out the door and showed no
emotion to the woman’s condition.  She walked across the nearly empty parking
lot toward her old car parked alongside Wiley’s pickup truck beneath the vapor
light.  As she approached her car, she saw the back tire was flat.  Dina
groaned with disgust.

“Great,” she scoffed. 

She’d end up having to wait
for Wiley to finish his work in order to give her a ride home.  It seemed
inconceivable that anyone she knew would be up this time of night.  Instead of
getting home half an hour early, she was going to be at least an hour later. 
As she approached her car, she visually assessed the damage to the tire.  Her
eyes strayed to the front tire.  It was flat as well!  Dina’s eyes widened, and
she suddenly appeared horrified.  She took two, quick steps backward then
turned to run back for the tavern.  A man in a mask stood between the two cars,
blocking her route to the tavern.  Dina gasped and stood frozen while staring
at the man.  She glanced behind her.  Her only option was the nearby woods. 
They were dark and intimidating.  She glanced back at the man as her breathing
became heavy.  He lunged for her.  Dina screamed and ran for the woods beyond
her car.  Her screams would go unheard.  The walls were too thick in the
tavern.  Her attacker chased after her.  Dina ran into the woods without
looking back.  In the dark, they’d be difficult to navigate, but there was a
path somewhere up ahead. 

There was the sound of a
loud grunt just behind her.  Dina uncertainly looked back and suddenly
stopped.  Her attacker lie on the ground, writhing in agony.  She hesitated
only a moment then uncertainly headed back for the parking lot and the
motionless man.  The man in black slowly moved to his feet while clutching his
shoulder.  Dina jumped with alarm and prepared to turn back for the woods.  Her
assailant suddenly turned and ran away.  Dina watched him run across the
parking lot and disappear into the woods across the street.  She uncertainly
entered the parking lot near her car and scanned the area.  Nothing moved. 
There was no one there, but someone had to be there.  Something or someone stopped
the man from chasing her.  She looked back at the tavern and ran across the
parking lot for the door.  A police blazer pulled into the parking lot.  Dina
suddenly stopped and watched the blazer approach.  The interior light came on,
revealing Deputy Tucker.  He looked at Dina through the open window and offered
a charming smile.

“Hey, Dina,” he announced. 
“Just making my rounds.  Everything under control tonight?”

She just stared at him with
her mouth hanging open.  Two seconds sooner, and he would have run over her
attacker on the road.  She appeared relieved and hurried to his open window.

“You just missed him,
Deputy,” she announced while now panting and holding her chest.  “This guy
slashed my tires then came after me.  He took off into the woods that way,” she
said while pointing across the street, “just two seconds ago.”

Deputy Tucker appeared
stunned and quickly grabbed his cell phone.  He pressed the walkie-talkie
button.  “Mitchell, you out there?”

There was a moment of
silence.  His phone beeped and Deputy Mitchell’s voice followed.  “Yeah, I’m
here, Tucker.  What’s up?”

“I’m at the tavern,” he
announced while glancing at Dina.  She was looking more flustered now than
before.  “Some guy slashed Dina’s tires then attacked her.  He’s in the woods north
of the tavern.  Patrol the area on the other side.  I’m having a look-see.”

“Roger,” came Mitchell’s
reply.  “Should I call the sheriff for backup?”

“Negative,” Tucker
replied.  “I don’t want to give him too much of a head start.  I’ll take
Winchester.”

“Copy that,” came
Mitchell’s reply.

Tucker jumped out of the
truck as Wiley appeared on the tavern porch.

“What’s going on?” Wiley
suddenly asked.

Tucker nodded Dina to
Wiley.  “Stay with Wiley until one of us gets back,” he informed her.

“You can’t go after him
alone,” Dina cried out.

“I’m not,” Tucker announced
and removed his rifle from the blazer.  “I’m taking Winchester.”

D
ina sat at the bar with the
few remaining drunks surrounding her with great interest as Wiley slid a glass
of whiskey on the bar before her.  She accepted the glass in trembling hands
and sipped it.  Dina made a face and set it back down.  She remained visibly
shaken as Wiley and the drunks stared at her.

“He started to chase me,”
she said softly and shook her head, “and, next thing I know, he was down.  He
was just lying there in agony.”

“Think the idiot fell?”
Wiley asked.

She shook her head
defiantly.  “No, he was taken down,” Dina announced firmly.  “Someone took him
down, and they took him down hard.”

“But you didn’t see
anyone?”

“No, no one,” she replied. 
“It was the strangest thing.  Who was he, Wiley?  What did he want?”

Wiley uncertainly shook his
head.  “It was obviously an ambush, being your tires were slashed,” he informed
her, “but no one would have any reason to go after you.  You haven’t done
anything--”  He suddenly fell silent.

Dina stared at Wiley as he
fidgeted.  Her look turned concerned.  “You think he came after me because of
Casey?  Someone wants revenge on her, so they came after me?”

Wiley appeared tense and
straightened.  “It could be anything, Dina.  Let’s not go jumping to
conclusions.”

Dina picked up the glass in
her trembling hand and drank the entire contents.  It was possibly the first
alcoholic drink she’d ever had.  The tavern door suddenly opened, startling
everyone inside.  Grey looked around the bar, saw Dina near Wiley, and hurried
for her.

“Are you okay?” Grey asked
while placing a hand on her shoulder.

Dina suddenly burst into
tears, jumped from her chair, and clung to Grey.  He uncertainly held her
against him as she sobbed into his neck.  Her emotional outburst surprised
him.  He immediately turned soothing and clung to her.

“It’s okay,” Grey said
softly.  “I’ll look after you.”

Grey looked at Wiley behind
the bar.  Wiley offered a timid smile and shrugged.

“Thanks for calling the
house, Wiley,” Grey said gently.

“Sorry to wake you,” Wiley
replied.

“I wasn’t sleeping anyway,”
he responded.  “I’m going to take her back to my house.  The boys can wait
until morning to talk to her.  Give them the message.”

Wiley nodded.  Grey pried
Dina from his body and guided her from the tavern with his arm securely over
her shoulder.

†

G
rey’s jeep pulled up to the
Remington farmhouse a little before three in the morning.  The farm seemed
particularly quiet, although several lights were on both in and outside the
house.  Dina got out the passenger side of the jeep and appeared almost
sedate.  That shot of whiskey and near exhaustion appeared to take its toll on
her.  The sound of thundering hoof beats were heard.  Both looked across the
farm toward the barn.  Casey rode her large gray horse across the driveway at a
fast gait and slid to a stop several feet before them.  Her horse pranced
around excitedly while she stared at both with surprise and concern.

“What’s going on?” Casey
suddenly asked.

Dina stared at Casey on her
horse but was too tired to speak.  Grey frowned while placing his arm around
Dina’s shoulder and pulled her to his side.

“Someone attacked Dina as
she was leaving the tavern tonight,” he replied then gave her an odd, nearly
scolding look.  “Where the hell were you?”

“Attacked?” Casey suddenly
demanded with a shattered look in her eyes that quickly turned to anger.  “What
do you mean attacked?”

“She’s okay,” Grey insisted. 
“She wasn’t hurt, but the guy got away.”

“Where?” Casey growled as
her eyes narrowed and her grip tightened on the reins. 

Storm’s massive body
pranced as he snorted to her rising emotion.  The horse was prepared to explode
on her command, almost like a racehorse in the starting gate.

“You never mind where,”
Grey snapped.  “Put the horse away and get your ass inside.  Let the law handle
this.”

“Let the law handle this?”
Casey suddenly cried out.  Storm slung his head in response and reared slightly. 
“Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Yes,” Grey scoffed.  “Your
friend needs you.  Make the right decision for once.”

Casey stared at Grey with a
wildly unpredictable look then glanced at Dina’s sedate condition.  She groaned
softly and relaxed her grip on the reins.  As her body sagged, the gray horse
relaxed.  She leapt off the horse’s back without using the stirrups and headed
for the barn, leaving the reins around the horse’s neck.  Storm turned and
followed her without prompting.  Grey guided Dina toward the house.

“Casey will draw you a
nice, hot bath in the jetted tub,” Grey informed her with a soothing tone as
they approached the porch.  “And I’m going to make you a special hot toddy to
settle your nerves.”

“Thanks, Grey,” she said
softly.  “I don’t know how to repay you.”

“You’re family, Dina,” he
replied.  “We look out for one another.”

†

C
asey was once again alone
in the cemetery.  Several weeping willow trees were dripping with early morning
dew and the ground was wet from the earlier downpour.  She uncertainly looked
around and her eyes gravitated to the two headstones several feet away.  They
were overgrown with vegetation.  She approached the headstones and removed the
plant life covering the name on the first one.  She stared helplessly at her
parents’ names engraved in the whitish gray marble.  It was a grim reminder
that her mother and father were still dead.  She allowed the grief to consume
her for only a moment before focusing her attention on the second headstone. 
Grey was alive.  She knew he had survived.  Why was there a second headstone? 
She removed the vegetation to reveal the name engraved on front.  Dina
Crawford.  Casey suddenly gasped and jumped away from the headstone.  Her heart
pounded roughly in her chest.  She suddenly felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her
lower abdomen.  Casey clutched her abdomen and looked at the blood seeping
between her fingers.  She lifted her bloodied hand as it trembled and stared at
it.  She looked around with fright.

“Dina!” she cried out, but
there was no one there.  No one answered.

A faint, muffled voice
could be heard.  It sounded like Dina screaming, but it sounded so far away. 
She looked around and attempted to locate from where her voice was emitting. 
Casey suddenly tensed and looked at the grave.  She uncertainly approached
Dina’s headstone, knelt down, and listened.  Dina was screaming from her
casket!  Casey cried out with alarm and began ripping through the ground with
her fingers.

“I’m coming, Dina!” she
cried out as tears streaked her face.  “I’ll get you out, I swear!  I’ll save
you!”

“She’s not in there,” came
a familiar, soothing male voice.

Casey suddenly looked up
from where she knelt before the grave and stared at the shadow of a man
standing before her.  She stared at him and tried to make out his face.  He had
come to her once before in a dream she vaguely remembered.  She remembered his
voice but still didn’t know who he was.  Dina’s screaming from the grave ceased
and all was quiet.  Casey looked from the grave to the shadowy figure standing
over her.  She slowly straightened.  He extended his hand to her.  She eagerly
accepted his hand.  She remembered the warmth of his touch from before.  His
touch soothed her and her anguish vanished instantly.  She moved into his arms
and rested her head on his shoulder.  She couldn’t believe how good it felt
being in his arms.

“I want to take care of
you,” he whispered softly while holding her against him.  “Let me take care of
you.”

She slowly lifted her head
and attempted to look into his eyes.  Despite his shadowy appearance, she
wanted this man.  It didn’t matter who he was.  She wanted to feel his body
against hers as he made love to her.  He lowered his head to hers.  She
strained to meet the lips she couldn’t see.  A blinding light suddenly hurt her
eyes.  Casey slowly woke and looked across her bedroom at Ruger standing before
the large window as sunshine poured in through the open curtains.  He looked at
her and grinned.  She loved the man, but she felt an overwhelming desire to hit
him for ruining her sexually fulfilling dream.

“Good morning, sunshine!”
Ruger announced a little too cheerfully.

She groaned and pulled the
covers over her head.  “Go bother someone else,” she scoffed lowly.

She wanted to finish her
lustful dream with her mystery man in the cemetery.  The covers were suddenly
pulled back, causing her to jump.  Ruger hovered over her and smiled in an
almost sinister manner.

“We have matters to
discuss,” he informed her.

“Can’t they wait until the
crack of noon?”

“No, they can’t,” he
replied firmly then suddenly turned serious and commanding.  “We need to
discuss what we’re going to do about your friend.”

Casey looked at the clock. 
It wasn’t even seven!  She groaned and slowly sat up.  She was moderately
disheveled from what few hours of sleep she’d actually gotten.  There was no
point to ignoring Ruger; he wasn’t going to go away.  He was annoying that way.

“What do you suggest?”
Casey muttered.  “Stuff her in the wood chipper and press puree?”

“You’re disturbingly morbid
in the morning,” he casually replied while sitting on the edge of the bed near
her.

“Fine,” she scoffed. 
“We’ll discuss Dina.”  Casey flopped back down on the bed and groaned softly. 
“And then I’m installing a lock on my bedroom door.”