Town Darling (10 page)

Dina stared at the building
and frowned.  She obviously wasn’t convinced of it.

T
wo years later.  The once
beautiful Remington farm was overgrown with tall weeds.  The wooden fence was
falling down, the landscaping was overgrown, and the boarded up house was in
desperate need of paint.  The sheriff’s blazer drove up the overgrown driveway
and parked in front of the house.  Vaughn got out of the blazer and approached
the house.  He walked up the porch steps, and instead of approaching the door,
he comfortably sat on the railing with his back to the support beam.  He rested
his head against the beam, shut his eyes, and appeared to escape into another
world.  His uniform proudly displayed the sheriff’s badge on the breast
pocket.  The months that followed the double homicide of Casey’s parents were
the roller coaster ride that changed the town’s perspective in many ways. 
Although the murders remained unsolved, Sheriff Wiley recommended Deputy Vaughn
Holt to become his successor as sheriff.  The town unanimously agreed. 
Somehow, he was deemed a hero.  He had saved the lives of Casey and Grey while
thwarting the first murderer the town had seen in its history.  Despite his
skepticism for the reason behind his promotion, Vaughn accepted the sheriff’s
position.  Now, two years later, he still sat at the scene of crime while no
closer to solving the murders than he had been the days that followed.

A thump within the house
caught his attention.  Vaughn leapt from the porch railing and approached the
front door.  He uncertainly placed his hand to the doorknob.  As he turned the
knob, the door opened!  It was supposed to be locked.  Vaughn removed his
revolver from its holster, carefully pushed open the door, and slowly entered
the house.  As Vaughn entered the kitchen, it was obvious the occupants had
left in a hurry.  Everything remained within the house, although now with a
thick, dusty layer covering it.  His eyes immediately strayed to the island
counter, but the blood had been painstakingly cleaned two years earlier by the
crew Dina had hired.  As Vaughn stared at the dusty area before the island
counter, the echoing of three gunshots from that chilling night could be
heard.  Vaughn tensed and took a deep breath.  The boarded windows allowed
little light to enter, but through the light of the open door, Vaughn saw
footprints in the dust across the floor.  They headed into the dark living
room.  Vaughn removed a small flashlight and shined it toward the living room
archway.  A floorboard creaked within the living room.  Vaughn leveled his gun
at the archway and firmly gripped the trigger.  The flashlight shined in the
face of a man in his early fifties.  Rory, the real estate agent, gasped with
alarm and immediately raised his hands.

“Don’t shoot, Sheriff,” he
announced defensively and allowed a tense laugh to escape.  “It’s just me.”

Vaughn groaned and replaced
his weapon with disgust.  Rory lowered his hands and attempted to relax.  The
rumor had spread rapidly through town of how Deputy Vaughn Holt supposedly shot
the killer three times in the chest after witnessing Casey’s stabbing.  The
cowboy mentality of the town rejoiced the deputy’s quick reflexes and swift
actions.  They didn’t want a sheriff who was unwilling to pull the trigger when
faced with life and death.  On the flip side, a large portion of the town
suddenly feared the man they most respected.  Although he’d only drawn his
weapon on a few occasions since that night, most were chilled when they saw
Sheriff Holt holding his gun. 

“What are you doing here,
Rory?” Vaughn asked with the bewilderment clearly on his
authoritative
face.  “How did you even
get here?”

“The wife dropped me off. 
I’m waiting for the electrician,” Rory explained.

Vaughn appeared immediately
curious while staring at the realtor.  “Electrician?  For what?”

“Didn’t you hear?  I guess
some guy is renting the old place,” Rory said proudly.

The sheriff appeared
surprised then said eagerly, “You spoke to Casey or Grey?”

“No, their uncle called and
asked us to get the power turned back on and hire someone to clean and cut the
weeds around the house,” he replied.  “Usually that means they’re looking to
rent or sell.  He didn’t ask for a sign, so I’m guessing they have an
interested renter.  Guess those kids went through their inheritance and need to
recoup some losses.  I expect the place to go up for sale in the near future. 
Be nice to get someone into that old antique shop too.  I’m tired of looking at
the place all boarded up.”  Rory made a face and appeared squeamish.  “Such a
grim reminder of what happened, you know.”

“It’s been two years,”
Vaughn said with a gentle sigh.  “No one expects them to ever come back.”  He
casually looked around and seemed to have trouble looking past the island
counter.  Vaughn was almost certainly off reliving bad memories.  He finally
looked back at Rory and appeared casual.  “Looks like they left almost
everything behind.”

“Pretty much,” Rory
replied.  “Although they did empty out the gun cabinet.”  He fidgeted but
managed a weak smile.  “I’ll admit I was concerned about what I might find. 
I’d heard Dina had the place cleaned after, you know, but I still wasn’t sure
what I’d find.  I can honestly say I didn’t want to see any grisly reminders of
what happened here.  I heard it was pretty gruesome.”

“Yeah,” Vaughn said under
his breath.

Rory immediately fidgeted
with a strange realization.  “Oh, I’m sorry, Sheriff,” he said gently.  “I
almost forgot you were here that night.”

“I never have,” Vaughn
scoffed and uncertainly ran his fingers through his hair.  He again looked at
the island counter, subconsciously wiped his hands on his pants, then looked at
his clean hands and frowned.

†

O
ne week later.  The
fairgrounds appeared deserted in the early evening setting.  Storm clouds had
rolled in and thunder rumbled in the distance as flashes of lightning lit up the
clouds.  The annual fair was growing near and would soon be flooded with locals
and visitors alike.  On the opposite end of the fairgrounds from the horse barn
and arena was the stage used for the talent show and bachelor auction.  The
faint sounds of hammering and shouting voices were heard from near the stage. 
Mayor Lance and his wife, Abby, rode in a stylish golf cart toward the distant
stage.  Lance was dressed casual for his fairgrounds inspection, but Abby was
dressed to impress, even though there would be few to impress.  As Lance
stopped the golf cart near the stage, Ernest appeared on stage with former
sheriff Wiley.  Although a little older and a little rounder, Wiley appeared
more relaxed now in his retirement.

“I thought we’d add a few
more lights to the stage this year,” Wiley informed Ernest and casually
indicated their locations.  “Last year it was getting close to dark before we
finished.”

“I know an electrician who
will give us a deal,” Ernest informed him.

Lance and Abby disembarked
their luxury golf cart and approached the large stage.  Both walked up the
steps leading up to the stage.  Abby’s high heels clunked across the stage. 
She paused and looked around with an approving smile.

“I like the new surface on
the stage,” Abby boasted to no one in particular.  “Melanie is going to be
pleased.  She got a splinter in her foot last year.”

“Nothing’s too good for my
darling niece,” Ernest announced cheerfully to his sister then grinned.  “I
paid for the upgrades myself.  When Melanie wins this year, it’ll be--what? 
Four years in a row?”

“Five, Ernest,” Abby
playfully scoffed then smirked and shook her head.  “Honestly, how can you
forget these things?  She’s your only niece.”

Wiley tensed and looked
around while pretending not to listen to the conversation.  There was being
proud of your child and then there was stacking the deck in your child’s
favor.  There was a fine line between the two, and it was difficult to say
whether Melanie actually won on her own talents.  Most of the judges were supporters
of both the mayor and Ernest.  Abby suddenly glared at Wiley in an almost
scolding manner.

“You’re suddenly very
quiet,” Abby remarked and raised a cocky brow.  “Something on your mind,
Wiley?”

“No, nothing,” Wiley
replied.  His carefully hidden look revealed there actually may have been, but
he wasn’t about to speak his mind.

Lance inspected the stage
while grinning proudly.  “This year’s fair is going to blow our town away.  One
hundred years,” he announced cheerfully.  “The entire town is psyched for it. 
It’s going to be spectacular.  Our expected attendance is nearly double.  We
have vendors coming from all over the country to participate.”  He then looked
at Ernest with a serious expression.  “I don’t want
anything
ruining
it.”

“Relax,” Ernest grumbled
and apparently took some offense.  “My boys have been perfect angels.  Now that
Wayne’s married, they’ve all settled a bit.”

Abby rolled her eyes.  The
term ‘settled’ was apparently subjective.  Wiley frowned and looked away,
possibly in fear of saying something he shouldn’t.

Ernest obviously felt the
mood shift, appeared humored by it, and shook his head.  “Trust me,” he
announced boldly.  “
Nothing
is going to ruin this fair.”

The shrill sound of a horse
neighing in the distance caught their attention.  All four looked across the
fairgrounds toward the distant hillside.  There was a clap of thunder.  A
large, gray horse reared up with a sharp squeal as lightning flashed behind
it.  The horse’s hooves pawed the air then harshly struck the ground.  The gray
horse snorted loudly then galloped across the field toward the woods with a
loud neigh that almost resembled a war cry.  All four watched the running horse
as if they’d seen a ghost.  Wiley walked to the edge of the stage with his
mouth hanging open and watched the horse disappear into the woods.

“Was that--?” Lance gasped
softly.

“It certainly was,” Wiley
replied while staring in disbelief.

†

I
t was later that same
evening.  The storm had passed through quickly, although the roads remained
wet.  Despite the early hour, there were several trucks already parked in the
tavern’s parking lot.  Even though it was only Thursday, there would be a good
crowd since a live band would be playing later.  The tavern appeared nearly
empty, with the hard-core drinkers hanging out at the bar.  A weary looking
Dina carried a pitcher of beer to the pool area.  It was early, and she was
already exhausted.  She appeared unhappy and lacked enthusiasm.  As she
approached the pool area, it was easy to see why.  The Harford boys played pool
at one of the back tables and joked around.  Apart from the four men, the back
was empty.  Dina appeared reluctant to approach them and, instead, set the
pitcher on the nearby table.  She attempted to slip away unnoticed.  Wayne must
have slipped around the front and cut her off before she could escape.  The
cheap grin on his face was enough to cause her to cringe.

“Where are you going so
fast?” Wayne asked in a devious tone.  “Don’t you want your tip?”

Wayne flashed a dollar bill
and attempted to slip it down her shirt.  Dina took a quick step back to avoid
his hand near her cleavage.  The last two years took their toll on her, and she
appeared to have little fight left within her.

“Leave me alone,” Dina
muttered and attempted to go around him.

Wayne again stepped in
front of her and grinned cheaply while playing with the dollar bill in his
grease-stained fingers.  Someone suddenly bumped into Wayne from behind.  His
attention sharply fixated on the man who had run into him.  A meek looking man
in his late forties, who stood no more than 5’8”, gave Wayne an apologetic
look.

“Pardon me,” Ruger
announced politely and attempted to walk past.

Wayne gave Ruger a jolting
shove to his shoulder, preventing him from passing.  “You have a problem?”
Wayne snarled and stared down upon the meek man.

Dina watched the exchange
with concern and uncertainly slipped out of the pool area.  Ruger stared at
Wayne, who towered over him by several inches, and appeared completely innocent
of any wrongdoing.

“No, I don’t have a
problem,” he replied casually.

“Well, you’re about to have
one,” Wayne growled and grabbed Ruger by his shirt.

Ruger didn’t flinch nor
show emotion to Wayne’s hands on him.  A tall, muscular man appeared behind
Ruger and glared at Wayne over top of Ruger’s head.  The stranger stood two
inches above Wayne at an impressive 6’4”.  He folded his muscular arms across
his chest and raised his brow in question.  His green eyes pierced through
Wayne’s with a look that would chill most men.  He oddly resembled a science
experiment gone astray.

“Is there a problem?” the
large man gruffly asked while staring down Wayne.

Wayne stared at the
thirty-something year old, muscle-bound man with a look of surprise and quickly
released Ruger.  He chuckled softly and shook his head almost meekly. 

“No, no problem,” Wayne
replied while taking a quick step back with his hands in the air.

The tall, muscular man,
Diesel, nodded his approval and smirked most sinister.  “Glad to hear,” he
replied then nodded Ruger to the nearby pool table.