Authors: Jerri Drennen
Inside, he took a left and ambled down the aisle, surprised the place was so quiet. Then again, there was a Wal-Mart superstore off the interstate. He was sure most shopped where everything was cheaper.
He turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Standing in front of him, talking to one of the Kroger employees, was Regina and Tiah.
The woman they were talking to glanced his way and smiled.
Trace took a calming breath and walked up to them.
“Can I inquire as to what happened to your car?” he asked from just behind Regina.
The two swirled around, and both of their complexions faded to white.
“Well,” he prompted.
“Well … ah, what was the question?” Regina asked.
“How did you get that long scratch on the side of your car?”
She cleared her throat. “I got sideswiped.”
“Did you report it?”
“I didn’t catch the license plate.”
Trace studied Regina closely, his gaze honing in on a large red scratch on the side of her elbow. “What happened here?” He grasped her by the arm and drew her closer to get a better look at the injury.
“Okay, I was standing by the door when this truck came barreling toward me. I got out of the way. My car wasn’t so lucky.”
Trace’s blood ran cold. “Are you saying that someone tried to hit you?”
“I don’t know that.”
“Of course you do.” Tiah looked from Regina to Trace.
“When did this happen?”
“A few hours ago.”
Trace fisted his hands to try to return circulation to them. He could have lost Regina today, and his reaction told him he was in love with her. “What are you two doing here?”
“We came in to find out if anyone knew where the former sheriff, Brighton, lives.”
Trace couldn’t have been more surprised to learn of their reason. He was a cop, and he was just getting around to finding the man. Hell, had the two read every Nancy Drew mystery novel on the shelf growing up to know what to do in an investigation? “And?”
“And what?” Regina looked confused.
Trace blew out a breath and asked, “Did you find out where the man lives?”
“Yes. Dee here said he lives out at Crane lake. A manmade lakefront property a couple miles out on Twenty-three.”
“Great. Let’s go. You ladies are coming with me.”
Outside the grocery, he opened the passenger side doors on the cruiser and went around to get into the car.
He was happy to see the women were seated with the doors closed, both fastening their belts.
Trace pulled out of the parking lot and drove out of town. He hated to have to take them to Brighton’s, but he couldn’t leave them alone knowing someone had tried to kill Regina.
He sped down the highway, going over everything he planned to ask the former sheriff once he arrived at the man’s house.
“Are you angry?” Regina asked, interrupting the questions in his head.
“What do you think?”
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just sit around and wait for something else to happen, Trace. I wanted to see if we could find more on Kelly Marley. Why wasn’t she found? I mean, Groves is a small town. How could an eighteen-year-old girl vanish like that?”
“It happens every day. It’s just never came to your attention.”
Regina’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?”
“Yes. I’ve been a cop for years. Young people vanish all the time. From big cities to small towns.”
“And they’re never found?”
“Sometimes they are. A lot of times, they’re not.”
Trace could tell Regina was getting upset. It was time to change the topic to something that had been bugging him. “Why didn’t you call me when that truck tried to slam into you?”
She turned away. “It was just another warning.” Regina glanced back. “We’re getting close to something, Trace. I can feel it.”
“You wouldn’t have been feeling anything had that truck hit you.”
She huffed. “Why can’t you see that someone is scared about what we’re doing? That’s why this happened. Kelly Marley is the key.”
“You might be right, but you should have let me handle this.”
“There’s the exit to the lake,” Tiah said from the backseat.
He’d drop the subject for now. He needed to concentrate on this meeting with Groves’ ex-sheriff.
“Watch for Brighton’s mailbox,” he said as they neared the lake.
All three turned to a line of boxes on the right.
“See it?”
“No.” Regina shook her head.
“There’s another one at the end of the road.” Tiah pointed to a large box about two hundred feet from where they were.
Trace drove to the turnaround and was happy to see it was Brighton’s.
“When we get to the house, I want you two to stay in the car. Do I make myself clear?”
“But …
Trace slammed the heel of his palm into the steering wheel. “You will, or I’ll handcuff you both. Understand?”
Regina looked disappointed, but nodded.
He glanced over the seat at Tiah, who hesitated, then did the same.
Trace turned down the lane, wondering why the man chose this particular place to retire. The gravel drive seemed to go on forever; tall, reed-like grass was taking over on both sides of the road. The property was definitely secluded and in need of a good brush hogging.
“Not exactly picturesque, is it?” Tiah asked. “I imagine it’s pretty creepy here at night.”
Trace had to agree. It would be downright eerie in the dark.
“There’s the house.” Regina placed her hand on his arm, her touch sending heat racing over his body. He seriously couldn’t think clearly when she was around.
He made a right into the drive and heard Regina suck in a breath.
Trace turned to see her face had gone ashen.
“What’s wrong?”
“That’s the truck.”
“What do you mean? What truck?”
“The one that tried to run me down.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Look at the long scratch on the side.”
Trace studied the pickup, then glanced at the house, where he saw a thin man exiting. “You two stay in the car. I don’t think he can see you through the tinted glass. I’ll just go ask him a few questions, and we’ll leave.”
Trace opened the car door and got out. The man stood on his porch, his gaze narrowed on Trace. Somehow he had to get through this interview without alerting the man’s suspicions, while trying to figure how the former sheriff fit into everything.
“Hello. Can I help you?” the fifty-plus-year-old man asked.
“Are you Carl Brighton?”
“Yes, and you are?”
“I’m Trace Langston.”
“Sheriff of Groves.”
“Right. I never did get a chance to meet you before you retired.”
“So what brings you out here, Sheriff?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the Kelly Marley case.”
The older man shrugged. “Can’t tell you much. She ran off, and far as I know, never came back.”
“So you do know she left on her own accord?” Trace didn’t like the man’s shifting eyes. He wasn’t telling the truth. But what was he hiding? He studied them closely, and for some reason they looked familiar.
“Kelly’s parents were very strict. They wouldn’t let her out of the house without knowing where she was going and when she’d be back. I guess she got tired of it and ran off.”
“But why stay away for fifteen years? Not even call?”
He shrugged again. “You’d have to ask her.”
“If you don’t think she’s dead, then why the headstone at the cemetery?”
“That was her parents putting her to rest after seven years. They thought it’d make things easier for them.”
“I see.” The conversation had gone as far as it could go, and Trace was nervous about who could be in the house, since he’d seen a curtain flutter while he was walking to the porch. “Okay. Thanks for your time. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.”
“If I can ask, why all the sudden interest in Kelly Marley?”
“We have a missing woman in town. She was a friend of Kelly’s in high school.”
“Who’s that?”
“Sharon Evans.”
“Carol’s daughter?”
“Yes. That’s her.”
“I hope you find her.”
“I do, too. Her mother is very upset.” Trace shifted his belt. “Again, thanks for the information.”
“Sure,” the man said before his attention darted to the cruiser. “Who you got in the car? In my day we weren’t allowed to transport family around with us.”
Trace wasn’t going to deny Tiah and Regina were family. Not when the man standing on the porch could have tried to run Regina over.
“Times change.” Trace turned and headed for his police car. He needed to get out of there, get back to town, and do some digging. The man wasn’t who he appeared to be, and Trace was determined to find out what the ex-sheriff of Groves was hiding.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Regina unlocked the door to Healthy Glow, her thoughts consumed with why the former sheriff of Groves had tried to run her down. Trace had refused to talk to her about the man on the drive to Gatsby, and then he’d followed her and Tiah back to town. They parted ways once they hit the city limits, and she didn’t know what he planned next. Nor did she know who would be outside her place tonight, but the sun was starting to set, and suddenly being without Trace made her feel anxious.
Inside the store, she secured the locks and glanced at Tiah, who looked as nervous as she was.
“You tell me why Carl Brighton would try to run you over? I’d say we were getting a little too close to something that had to do with him—something he’d kept hidden.”
“Yeah, something to do with Kelly Marley.”
Tiah nodded. “Exactly. Maybe he made the girl vanish and was hoping her case would never again be brought to light. I mean, he was the powers-that-be at the time. Who better to keep the disappearance under wraps?”
Regina sighed. “But why? What would be his motive?”
Tiah shrugged. “That’s the question we need to find the answer to.”
“How do we …” A banging at the door had both spinning around.
Regina walked over and glanced out the door’s window, surprised to see a large group of townspeople outside. “I think we’re in trouble. Call Trace,” she shouted over her shoulder at Tiah, just as glass shattered from somewhere in her apartment. “They’re trying to get in the back door.” What the hell were they going to do? Break in and kill them?
Tiah ran to get Regina’s purse and dug for her phone.
“Punch four,” Regina instructed when her friend had it in hand, then flinched when the picture window in her storefront shattered.
“We need to get out of here,” Tiah said, the look on her face grim. “Trace isn’t picking up.”
A voice from behind Regina just about stopped her heart. She whirled to find Garrett and Trace. “We have to get you two out of here and to the police station. I found out our mayor did some digging and learned you two are Wiccan. They think you killed Keith and Sharon in some kind of satanic ritual and are determined to put an end to your wicked ways.
Regina’s heart dropped into her stomach. What did they plan to do? Burn her and her friend at the stake? What was this? 1692 Salem? Did they seriously think they could get away with something like that?
“Hurry. Before they realize we’re here.”
Regina followed Trace and Garrett to the door, then waited for them to give the all clear before racing to the cruiser. She never dreamed a town so serene could turn into some kind of mob mentality so quickly.
In the car, Regina closed her eyes and took in a ragged breath. Maybe this was all just a nightmare—one she’d sooner or later wake from.
Trace eased the car out of the drive and took a right, obviously hoping to go unnoticed by the crowd.
It took only a few minutes to get to the station. They parked around back, rushed inside, and Trace locked the doors. “Okay, let’s leave only the main light on—the one we always do—and hope no one realizes we’re here.” He placed his hands on his narrow hips. “Stay away from the windows and doors.”
“We can’t hide here forever, Trace. Surely those people will calm down and think about what they’re doing. Right?”
“I can’t rely on that, Regina. I’ve seen this kind of thing before. Crazed people feed off one another. We’ll be all right as long as we stay put until morning.”
* * *
“Some town you got here,” Nathan stepped from Trace’s office.
Trace rubbed at the days’ worth of growth on his chin. “I guess no town is perfect.”
The detective laughed. “True, but most don’t turn into the Salem Witch Trials when something like this occurs. Apparently, an angry undercurrent has been bubbling in this town for some time.”
“For about fifteen years. Since Kelly Marley disappeared,” Tiah said, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Who’s Kelly Marley?”
“An eighteen-year-old girl who went missing, and no one seemed to care, especially the former sheriff of Groves, who by the way, I had a talk with today, and I know is hiding something. I need to find out what.”
Nathan frowned. “Where do we start?”
“We begin by finding out who the man is. Where he came from.” Trace walked into his office, for once happy the room didn’t have windows. He could use his computer without alerting anyone to the fact they were in the police station.
Determined to find answers, Trace booted up the computer and typed in Carl Brighton’s name. He scrolled down the links on the page and found one that revealed Carl’s family came from Gatsby and that his father used to be sheriff there back in the late sixties. Carl became sheriff of Groves in early eighties and was working as such some twenty years before he retired. Nothing looked strange or out of the ordinary. The guy seemed to have an exemplary record. So why had he tried to run Regina down? This whole thing made no sense.
“See if you can find any other missing girls from the area in the past, say, thirty years,” Nathan said from over his shoulder.
Trace typed in “missing persons,” and his jaw dropped. There were three since the late seventies. All around the same age. None had ever been found.
“Hmm.” Nathan’s eyes widened. “What do you make of that?”