Authors: Jerri Drennen
“I think we have a pattern here, and it seems to revolve around the Brightons.”
“Exactly. See if old man Brighton was sheriff when the first girl went missing. Maybe this thing goes all the way back to him.”
Trace looked up the records and found that to be the case. “The first girl disappeared around the time Sheriff Brighton was getting ready to retire from Gatsby. You think the old man might have started all this?” Trace glanced at Nate.
“Sure as hell looks like that could be the case.”
“What about Keith? Could his murder be related in some way?”
“Not sure, but all this has a strange feel to me. Keith was murdered in a type of ritual killing. What if that’s what this whole thing is? What if the Brightons are into the black magics, and the girls who vanished were some kind of sacrifice?”
“We need to find a connection between Keith and Brighton. Also, when I was out at his place, I got the strangest feeling I knew him from somewhere.”
“Any idea why?”
Trace shook his head. “No, but it’s going to bug me until I figure it out.”
“You said you were out at his place. What’s it like? Could he get away with hiding a body out there?”
A light bulb went on in Trace’s head. He sure as hell could. The place was perfect for something like that. “I believe so.”
“I think we need to go out there and take a look around.”
Trace agreed, but tonight wasn’t the right time, since the town wanted to string Regina and Tiah up and burn them alive. He had to make sure they were safe before going off on some witch hunt of his own. “Where did the girls go?”
“I believe they’re in with your prisoner.”
“What?” Trace jumped up and took off toward the holding ceil, intent on sending both women off to get some rest on the other side of the building—far away from Rod Stevenson. What would possess Regina to go in and talk to him? The man tried to kill her for God’s sake. What did she want to see him for?
Outside the holding area, Trace held back. He wanted to hear what the three were talking about. Rod’s impromptu discussion had him questioning what the man was up to and wondering if Regina would fall for it.
Enough was enough.
He stalked into the room. “I think you two should go to the lounge and try to get some rest.” His request had both women turning to meet his glare.
Regina sighed, then slumped her shoulders and left the room.
Tiah hesitated, her eyes making contact with his for a split second before she, too, exited the room. What did the two think they were going to gain by talking to Rod? Did they hope he’d somehow changed from a few days in jail? Trace knew better. The man was determined to get Regina back or kill her if he couldn’t. Trace wasn’t going to let that happen. If Rod laid one hand on her, Trace would make sure the man never touched anyone or anything ever again.
He glanced at the man, who graced him with a wry smile that almost sent Trace into the cell to punch his lights out. Tomorrow he was going to have the man transferred to Little Rock and charge him with breaking and entering, not to mention resisting arrest. That would keep him incarcerated for a while and hopefully wipe the smirk from the jerk’s face.
He walked out, his fists clenched at his side. He could hardly wait to see Rod’s expression when he learned he was going to sit in a Little Rock jail until Trace decided what other charges he planned to file against him.
Down the hall, he ran into Garrett. “I got the ladies settled in for the night. Can I ask what you plan to do?”
“I intend to wait it out until morning and hope the light of day will make that crazed mob disband.”
His deputy’s gaze narrowed. “What if it doesn’t, Trace. How do we protect Regina and Tiah from the whole town?”
“I guess we cross that bridge if and when we have to. Right now, I just want to get through the night without anyone realizing we’re here. So, like I said, stay away from all the windows and doors. We don’t want anyone to see us. Oh, I meant to ask you earlier if you knew the former sheriff.”
“I did. The man gave me the willies growing up.”
“How so?”
Garrett shrugged. “I was young, Trace. Everyone in authority scared me. I think in his case, it was his eyes. They seemed really cold.”
Eyes
. That was it. There was something about the man’s eyes. But what was it? They were hazel with gold flecks. Why was that familiar?
His mind replayed everything that had happened in the past week. Dead birds. The rock. Keith’s death. Finding out about Kelly Marley, which in turn triggered Sharon’s disappearance.
Wait a minute
. Sharon had Hazel eyes. With gold flecks.
Trace sucked in a breath. Sharon was Carl Brighton’s daughter. But how? Carol had been married to Hal Evans. How could Carl be Sharon’s father, unless the two had an affair some thirty-plus years ago?
Did Carol’s husband know about it before he died? That would be a hard thing to swallow. Maybe it killed the man.
If, indeed, Sharon was Carl’s daughter, did the ex-sheriff know? And if so, wouldn’t he have been more concerned about her being missing?
Man, this whole thing was too strange for words. What else happened in Groves in the past that he had no clue about?
Regina comes to town, and things that had been hidden for years resurface
.
Why?
Trace wished he could go out to Brighton’s tonight and see what he could find. He wanted to know what more the man was hiding in plain sight.
Why hadn’t any of the residents noticed the similarities in Sharon and Carl? Was he just more observant than most, or had they all known about the affair and just pushed it aside because Carol was such a large part of the community and no one wanted Groves to become another Peyton Place? These were questions that needed answered, and he planned to get some in the morning when he and Carol had another talk—one he wasn’t going to allow her to avoid even if she was upset over her daughter’s disappearance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Trace’s strained voice forced Regina out of a sound sleep. She rubbed her eyes and glanced up at him, her stomach somersaulting at his grim expression. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to leave. Apparently the mob figured out we’re here and are trying to break in. Nathan and Tiah are waiting in the car. Garrett is going to stay and try to reason with our mayor.”
Regina’s throat closed off, and she swallowed past the lump to take in a breath.
Trace grasped her hand and pulled her off the cot. “Come on. We’re going to get out of town for a while.”
She nodded, then followed him to the back of the building. “Won’t they be watching both doors?” she asked when they’d reached the exit.
“Yes, but only the people who work here know the place has a third entrance.”
She looked around her. “Where is it?”
Trace smiled and tripped a button. A panel popped open, revealing nothing but darkness in the narrow space beyond. He removed the flashlight from his belt and switched it on, illuminating a passageway, which led them about one hundred feet from the police station.
A light flickered in the distance, and Regina saw Nathan in the driver’s side of a dark sedan, Tiah sitting in the front next to him.
“Hurry.” Trace dragged her to the car and opened the door for her. As soon as she and Trace were inside, Nathan took off and headed toward the outskirts of town.
“Where are we going?” Regina asked once they were on the highway to Gatsby.
“We’re going to find out what Groves’ former sheriff is hiding out at his place.”
Regina wasn’t sure how she felt about the plan. What if they got caught? As she recalled, there was a NO TRESPASSING sign posted to that effect. Then again, Trace was sheriff of Groves. Surely they wouldn’t arrest him.
“What do you think you’ll find?”
“I’m not sure.”
Regina studied his shadowed features. “Okay, so, what are you
hoping
to find?”
He looked her straight in the eye. “Kelly Marley.”
Her jaw dropped. “You think he buried her out at his place?”
“The man was hiding something with that girl.”
“Right, and according to the sheriff of Gatsby, he refused help on the case from any other law enforcement agency. Why would he do that if something wasn’t going on? How come the authorities didn’t question that back then?”
“Because Brighton’s father used to be sheriff of Gatsby. The family’s revered. No one would suspect a thing, and that’d be the perfect situation for hiding a murder.”
Regina shook her head. The whole thing was unbelievable. Who would suspect a law officer of criminal wrongdoing? Let alone murder? No one, especially if the family was well-known and beloved by everyone.
Regina looked out the window, noting how strangely dark the moon was that evening. Somehow, that made things even more eerie, and she felt as edgy about what they intended to do. Going out to Brighton’s place in the dead of night was crazy and possibly dangerous, since the man used to be a cop and no doubt had an accurate aim when shooting a weapon.
Regina gulped and turned back to Trace. He seemed to be in his own thoughts. Were they on the same realm as hers? Or was he sure of what he was getting them into? She hoped he was. Right now she needed him to be secure in their intent.
She reached over and clasped his hand, in need of his strength.
He turned and smiled at her, then squeezed her fingers tight. “It’ll be all right, Regina. When we get to Brighton’s, I want you and Tiah to stay in the car. As long as we’re not spotted, everything will be fine.”
He seemed confident in his words. Regina wished she could be that sure. But nothing had gone right since she’d moved to Groves. Why should it start now?
Regina turned in time to see Gatsby fly by. When they took Crane Lake Road, her heart started a frenzied beat. She wanted to be anywhere but here—except maybe Groves. She was sure she’d be in a sorrier state if left to deal with the people there.
Nathan drove halfway down Brighton’s driveway and pulled the vehicle over.
“We’re going to walk in from here. You two lock the doors once we’re gone. Okay?” Trace said to Regina.
“All right. Be careful.”
The two men exited the car and started down the gravel road toward the house. From the front seat, Tiah flipped the door locks, then turned to face Regina. “I hope Brighton is sound asleep.”
“Speaking of sleep, how long were we resting before Nathan came in to get you?”
Tiah shifted on the seat and turned away. What the hell? Her best friend was hiding something from her.
“What’s going on, Tiah?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you all of a sudden so nervous?”
“Look where we’re at. I mean, Brighton could have seen us coming up the drive. We could all be arrested, or worse.”
Regina studied her friend’s face. If she got a better look at her eyes, then maybe she could tell if Tiah was lying or not. She’d have to believe her for now. Tomorrow, in the light of day, she’d ask again and see if her friend was telling the truth.
* * *
Trace led the way up the road, staying close to the tall grass, hoping they wouldn’t be spotted.
Nathan tapped his shoulder when they reached the turn to the carport. He pointed to the left and nodded.
Trace returned the gesture, then sprinted in the opposite direction. The two had discussed a plan before getting the girls and had determined that splitting up would cover more ground.
He followed a foot-worn path, which took him behind the house. A glowing in the distance caught his eye. He moved down the trail toward the orb of light, wondering why someone would have started a fire at night, especially in the oppressive summer heat.
As he got closer, a faint sound drew his attention. It was almost musical—maybe a radio.
About fifty feet or so from the flickering glow, the sound became clearer. It wasn’t a radio. It was voices, and they were chanting something he couldn’t make out.
Trace stopped long enough to pull out his Glock, then moved on.
“Hail, Satan, Hail, Satan,” he heard in the distance.
Holy Mary, mother of God
. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. He’d never come across anything like this before. He’d only seen it in movies.
Trace needed to find Nathan. Maybe he’d be able tell him how bad the situation was.
A rustling from behind stopped his heart.. He turned in time to see Nathan ducking out from under a tree, his gaze on the light. He spotted Trace and pointed toward the fire.
Trace nodded, and they headed in the direction of the light, the chanting getting louder and louder, the voices blending together as one.
When they got within twenty feet of the group, they dropped to the ground and crawled toward the fire’s glow. Trace scanned the crowd, and his jaw dropped.
So much for Sharon Evans being kidnapped. She must have been the one spying on him from the window when he came to see Brighton. He moved on to the next person, not all that surprised to see Rayland next to her. After all, the two had dated in high school. Why not be in a satanic cult together?
This whole thing was surreal.
Trace’s attention slid to the person next to Rayland.
No
. He had to be seeing things. Sylvia Heart? No way. Why would a woman like her be a member of something so evil? Next to her was none other than Sharon’s mother, Carol. So all that crying over her daughter had been nothing more than an act. He’d have to give her props or an Oscar. He’d fallen for it. Hook, line, and sinker.
His gaze advanced to the next robed person, and he did a double-take. What? He had to be seeing things this time. The last time he’d seen the man standing next to Carol, he’d shared a cubicle with him.
Everything from eight years ago came crashing back. The man in the glowing circle had been the one to find him the job as sheriff of Groves in the first place, said Trace was meant to live in the small town. He’d wished him the best and shoved him out the door. But why had his ex-partner wanted him here?