Pecked to Death (15 page)

Luke ripped off the chicken head and unzipped her, grasping her hand when she wobbled. At last she shook free of the suit, and then they were running into the dense forest. Sadie couldn’t be sure, but she thought she caught sight of the blurry form of their attacker picking his way down the ravine.

“Where are we going?” Luke asked. He was panting; he had never been a runner.

“Gideon’s deer stand,” Sadie said. She was barefoot, wearing only a skimpy pair of shorts and a sports bra, but there was no time to think about that now. They had to get to safety, and she was thankful that she knew exactly where they were since she had helped Gideon build his stand. The thought occurred to her that it had been a lifetime ago, and it might not still be there, but at last they reached the appropriate tree, and she saw the sketch of the camouflaged stand. It was well hidden by the leaves, and no one who didn’t know about it would be able to find it.

“What are you doing?” Luke asked when she began herding him up the stand. She didn’t answer. She simply kept shoving until he popped the hatch and clambered through the hole. There was one small stool-like chair. He sat. Sadie scrambled through the opening, closed the hatch, and plopped in his lap.

Sadie Cooper had a six pack. She was petite and curvaceous. For some reason Luke thought that meant she would be soft and sort of doughy. He tried not to picture her at all, but she kept shooting messages to his brain with announcements about her state of undress. Now he was confronted with the reality because she was wearing some sort of bra, a tiny pair of shorts, and nothing else. True, women in bikinis were less covered, but they usually weren’t sitting in his lap. Sadie was, and for the last twenty minutes, he had been sitting on his hands, staring studiously at a spot in the far corner while they sat in silence, listening for the crunch of leaves and twigs.

“What are you staring at?” Sadie whispered. In order to make herself heard, she had twisted toward him, arching up to reach his ear.

A bead of sweat gathered on Luke’s temple and rolled down his face. “Spider.” He was glad he was whispering. Otherwise his voice would have cracked.

“What kind?”

Since there was no spider, he had to think fast. He said the first thing that popped into his mind. “Orb-weaving death angel.”

“Hmm, I don’t see it.”

“You’re not a scientist.”

“You are, obviously, because you have a scantily-clad woman in your lap, and you’re studying arachnids.”

“Science demands dedication,” he whispered.

“Uh, huh. Do you by chance remember who bought you your first spider identification guide and then listened as you read it cover to cover to cover to cover?”

“You,” he said.

“Right, so I know that there is no orb-weaving death angel.”

“My mistake.”

“What are you so afraid of, Luke? You have a girlfriend, so I assume you’re not frightened of women in general. I’ve sat on you hundreds of times. What gives?”

Yes, she had sat on him hundreds of times, preferring to use his body as a pillow whenever the need arose, but then they had been kids. Then there hadn’t been the potent chemistry between them unless—what if she didn’t feel it? What if it was only one sided? The scientist in him did take over then because he was curious. Did Sadie feel the attraction bouncing between them, or was it only him and his imagination? He put up a hand to swipe at the sweat now covering most of his face, and let it rest on her back when he was finished. She sucked in a breath and sat up straighter, and he smiled. There, not just one-sided, then.

“I think I have a cut,” she whispered. She twisted so he could see the large gash beneath his hand.

So much for her undying attraction to him. “Let me see,” he said. He leaned over and inspected the cut. It was jagged but not deep, as if she had been snagged by a briar. “Doesn’t look too bad. We’ll clean it with some antibiotic stuff when we get home. I don’t even think it will need a bandage.” He sat back, but Sadie remained frozen.

“You smell good,” she whispered.

Zing!
Just like that, the chemistry was back and bubbling between them again. “So do you,” he said, his tone rueful.

“Why do you sound mad about it?”

“Because you spent four hours in a chicken suit that smells like mushrooms, and yet you come out smelling like gardenias and honeysuckle. And you’re beautiful. Why did you have to grow up beautiful, Sadie? Was it to torture me?”

“You think I’m beautiful?” she whispered, her delph-blue eyes luminous, even in the darkness of the hideout.

“You know you are,” he said.

“Well, yes, but it’s still nice to hear it once in a while. You’ve certainly never said it.”

“Of course I have.”

“Not to me. Do you know the last time you commented to me on my looks? It was when we were thirteen and I wore makeup near you for the first time. You said I looked like a clown.”

“You did. You never needed that junk.”

“I had just come home from a pageant. You had to wear makeup at pageants.”

“I hated the pageants,” he said. His tone was petulant and full of the old bitterness.

“Really? If only you had made your opinion known,” she said, heavy on the sarcasm.

“They were beneath you.”

“They helped me pay for college, and they made my mom happy,” she said.

“They made you someone you’re not,” he said.

“They made me confident,” she argued.

“They took you away from me,” he hissed.

She had no answer for that, at least not for a while. “Why would you care? You don’t like me,” she said at last. “You think I’m shallow, selfish, brainless, and a heartless man-eating user.” She dropped her head and stared at her hands.

“Sadie, that’s not true,” Luke said.

“I took those words from you; they’re direct quotes.”

“Okay, I said them, but try to see it from my perspective. I had this amazing best friend who was the most fun, special, and wonderful person on the planet. She could make me laugh at anything, and she had a tender heart as big as the moon. And then one day she was gone, replaced by some girl who made out with football players under the bleachers and cared more about mascara than she did about anything else, including me.”

“I’m still the person I was; that’s what you never understood, and what hurt the most. A woman can care that her nail polish coordinates with her lip gloss and still have a workable brain and functioning heart. I can be both a gawky tomboy and a cheerleader.”

“I don’t want the cheerleader; I just want the tomboy.”

“Then you don’t want me because you can’t pick and choose the traits and flaws that you want your friends to have. I can accept that you would rather dig for tourmaline than go to a new release on a Friday night. Why can’t you accept that I care what
Vogue
has to say about next season’s shoes?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. He had never realized that he was trying to pigeonhole Sadie into the person he thought she should be instead of accepting who she was. Was it possible that she was still the same girl he knew and someone new, too? And was it possible that he could like the person she was instead of resenting the loss of who she had been? Now was probably a good time to talk about what else had passed between them, but he couldn’t bring it up when they were finally getting along and having a real conversation.

She rested her head on his chest before drawing a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I’m so tired, Luke.”

He resettled his hands on her waist, being careful not to touch the scratch. “Adrenaline takes a lot out of you.”

Sadie didn’t bother to correct him. It wasn’t just that she was physically exhausted, though she was, but she was emotionally drained from keeping a stiff upper lip and happy smile all the time. Now that Abby was gone, she had no soft place to fall, no system of support.

Absently, his thumb traced over her stomach, outlining the ridges in her abdomen. He didn’t realize what he was doing until Sadie sucked in a breath and clutched his shirt, and then awareness came, along with bubbling, broiling tension. She eased away from his touch and looked up at him, her hand now resting on his shoulder. She was trying to give him an out, but to Luke it felt like she was weaving a spell, casting a net and reeling him in. The tiny part of him that was still rational screamed at him to stop, but he ignored it.

Sadie eased farther away. “This seems like a bad idea.”

“The worst,” he agreed, but he didn’t stop advancing.

“You have a girlfriend,” she reminded him.

“Duly noted.” His face reached hers, and she moved her palm from his shoulder to his cheek.

“I’m terrible for you, like poison.”

“Beyond terrible, worse than poison,” he agreed. She leaned away again, and he moved from besotted to agitated. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”

“More than I would have thought possible,” she said.

“Then stop acting like me, act like yourself, and do something stupid and impulsive.”

“Okay,” she agreed. She stopped trying to spare him from himself and gave in just as the trap door beside them banged open, and a head and a gun sprang into view.

Sadie screamed and threw her arms around Luke’s neck.

“What is going on in here? Why are you in my deer stand?” It was Gideon and, surprise, he didn’t sound happy to see her.

“Dad?” Sadie said, still unable to believe it was him, and still unable to unwind the death grip she had on Luke’s neck.

“Who else did you expect?” Gideon asked.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I saw Luke’s car at the side of the road, got out to inspect it, and saw your chicken suit lying at the base of the ravine. What are you doing here? Has this been your make out spot all these years? Because that’s not the kind of information I want to learn when I’m holding a gun,” he said, eyeing Luke with disapproval.

With effort, Luke unlocked Sadie’s arms from around his neck. “We don’t have a make out spot. We were hiding from some crazy reporter who tried to kill us.”

“What?” Gideon said.

“Can we talk about this on the ground?” Sadie asked. “I need to check my uniform.”

Sadie led the way back to the edge of the ravine while Luke explained the situation to Gideon. “Why didn’t you call for help?” Gideon asked.

“Because neither of us had our phones,” Luke said. “Mine was in the car, and Sadie…” he gestured to Sadie as if to say
where would she have put it?

“And why are you half dressed, child of mine?” Gideon called.

“Because the suit is a million degrees,” she said, not bothering to slow down as she practically steamrolled back to the spot where they had left her suit. They reached it, and she picked it up to examine it. “Not too bad,” she decided.

“Not too bad?” Luke repeated. “Sadie, it’s filthy, missing half its feathers, and has little holes all over it.”

“I can wash it and glue on some new feathers.”

“And the holes?” he asked.

“At least it will be more breathable now,” she said.

He shook his head. “You can’t wear that again.”

“I have to or else I have to pay three hundred dollars to replace it, and that’s more than I’ve made. So this is going to have to do.” Her voice cracked. She stopped talking and took a breath, clutching the hideous suit close.

“If you had been diligent about saving money like I taught you,” Gideon started, but Luke interrupted.

“Not now, Gideon. Can’t you see she’s been through enough, and she’s tired? Just let it go and leave her alone.”

If Sadie hadn’t been so tired, and so on the verge of an emotional collapse, then she might have laughed at the shocked expression on her father’s face. Receiving a reprimand from mild-mannered Luke was probably the last thing in the world he expected. After a moment of stilted silence, Gideon spoke again, to Luke this time.

“I already called a tow for your car. Do you need anything else?”

Luke shook his head.

“Fine. Sadie, in the car, let’s go.” He turned and stormed in the direction of his truck. Sadie trotted after, clutching the chicken suit like a lifeline. “Bye,” she mouthed to Luke.

In answer, he waved and turned to watch her as she walked away. It was a good thing she couldn’t hear his inner monologue because he was calling himself every kind of fool for his near miss in the tree stand. What had he been thinking? He hadn’t; that was always the problem when it came to Sadie. When they were kids, she could talk him into crazy stunts. Now she didn’t even have to use words; she simply had to turn her unfathomable blue eyes on him, and he was a goner. When he realized that he had both proposed to her and tried to kiss her in one day, it somehow seemed far crazier than the fact that someone had taken shots at him while he tried to rescue her.

 
She had to go before he lost what was left of his sanity, and since the only way to ensure that was to help her wrap up her investigation into Aunt Abby’s death, he determined to do whatever was necessary to help. And then he would personally put her in her car and drive her out of town if that was what it took to get rid of her.

Sadie, on the other hand, had always been able to compartmentalize unpleasant or complicated things. She put away the incident with Luke for further inspection, and turned her attention to mending her suit.

“Luke’s right; you can’t wear that,” her father said.

“Once again you both underestimate my determination,” Sadie said.

They rode in silence a couple of minutes while Sadie plotted how to salvage her suit.

“Why would a reporter shoot at you?” Gideon blurted.

Since Sadie was doing her best not to remember the horrific afternoon, she hadn’t given much thought to the question. Now that she did, it didn’t make sense. “I don’t know. But if it wasn’t a reporter, then who was it?”

“A crazed stalker, maybe? Have you been getting any weird letters or phone calls?”

“No.”

He was silent a few more minutes as he pondered. “Maybe it wasn’t gunshots at all.”

“It was gunshots. Someone was shooting at us.”

“You’ve always had an overactive imagination and flair for drama, Sadie.”

“Then how do you explain Luke’s missing rear window and side mirror, Dad? Or the fact that I saw the gun and heard the shots, and so did Luke. To my knowledge, an overactive imagination isn’t something you can pass from one person to another, so if I imagined it, then he did, too.”

“I’m just saying that in the heat of the moment, things can become confused.”

“You never listen to me, Dad. You never listen to anyone. Is this what happened with Abby? Was she trying to ask you something or tell you something, and you refused to listen?”

“Abby said a lot of things that nobody listened to, Sadie, especially near the end. Not even Doc Jones believed her, and he knew her better than anyone.”

“Yes, well, Doc Jones may be changing his mind soon.”

Gideon white-knuckled the steering wheel. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that he started to rethink some of whatever happened to Abby before she died; I’m talking about the fact that, unlike some people, he actually listened to me, and is willing to figure out the truth of what happened to Abby.”

“What truth? Abby died, Sadie. She died peacefully and happily. Why can’t you accept that? People die and life goes on.”

“Sometimes it goes on before people are even gone,” Sadie muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“Exactly what it sounds like, Dad. Mom’s death was barely a blip in your radar. I was surprised you even took a day off work for it.”

“You have no idea what your mother’s death cost me,” he said.

“You had a funny way of showing it. You all but ignored her for the last few years, and before that, all you did was argue.”

“You want to know why?” She didn’t answer, but he pressed on anyway. “Because I spent the first years of our marriage trying desperately to make her happy. She hated I was a cop, she hated where we lived, she hated the way I arranged my clothes in the closet. She even hated the way I chewed my food. After a while, I gave up trying to make her happy, and focused on surviving. And then you came along, and I tried my level best to make sure you didn’t turn out like her.” He gave a sad little laugh and shook his head. “Some joke. Not only do you look exactly like her, but you act just like her, too. You’re practically a clone.”

They arrived at the house, but made no move to get out. “No, Dad, I’m not, but not for lack of trying. I tried to be everything Mom wanted me to be. I wanted to be a popular cheerleader, just like her. I tried to do everything she said for me to do, to live the life she wanted me to live. But here’s the kicker—she never would have survived what I’ve been through. I’m stronger than she ever was, and I’m glad because now that Abby’s gone, I’m all I’ve got.” She stepped out, dragging her chicken suit behind her.

She hadn’t eaten supper, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was to go to bed and give way to the tears that were threatening to spill over. But the suit needed cleaned, so instead of going into her room like she wanted, she bypassed it and went into the bathroom where she spent the next two hours cleaning and repairing the suit. Somehow in the last few days, the chicken suit had come to represent Sadie’s will to survive. She had no money, no career, no prospects, no future, no family, no friends, and she was a national laughingstock. But she was making it one day at a time, even if it meant she had to cluck for dollars, she was still alive.

Finally, the suit was wearable again. She hung it in her closet, and fell into bed. Sleep wouldn’t come. Instead her traitorous brain wanted to try and remind her of everything that was going wrong. She wouldn’t let it. The key to survival was getting out of town, as quickly as possible. In the morning, she would once again work on clearing up what happened during the final days of Abby’s life. After that, she would take her meager savings, hit the open road, and drive until the gas tank read empty.

Cheered once again by the prospect of going someplace else, Sadie finally fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

In the morning, Gideon’s bad mood increased Sadie’s sense of urgency and impatience. She had to finish and get out of town, the sooner the better. With that thought in mind, she decided to make another visit to Doc Jones. She wanted to reassure herself that he was actually working on what he had promised. Somehow she sensed that he was the key to unlocking the mystery of Abby’s strange behavior. He was the one person in the world who knew all of Abby’s secrets. If Sadie could convince him to open up and share, she could find peace of mind and closure.

The morning felt almost brisk—a pleasant change from the heat and humidity of late. Since she was already dressed in yoga pants and an old cheerleading shirt from college, she decided to go for a run after talking to the doctor. Maybe he would give her the information she needed and the run would feel like a celebration. Maybe she could leave after her shift at work was over. After today, she would have enough money for one tank of gas. How far from Virginia could she go on one tank?

While her brain was consumed with trying to calculate gas mileage and fuel economy, the short walk down the street to the doctor’s house passed without her notice. Like the Kaplans, he lived too far to be considered a part of the inner neighborhood circle. His connection with Abby was all that had kept him at the core of the group. Sadie wondered if he moved to the neighborhood to be close to Abby or if it was a happy coincidence. There was something both sad and sweet about him moving close to the woman he loved—sweet because it was a romantic gesture, and sad because it hadn’t worked except to make them neighbors. Would he move now that Abby was gone? Or would he stay? Did the sight of her house, now under the care of Luke, make him feel sad and lonely?

She reached the front porch and put out a hand to knock. There was no answer. She checked her watch. It was still early, but how early did doctors go to work? She knocked again in case he was outside or hard of hearing as everyone suspected he might be. Sadie had once heard Abby tell him to get hearing aids; it was one of the many things they had bickered about. There was still no answer at the door. Sadie turned to go, intending to catch him at his office, and that’s when she heard it. A faint sound came from inside, almost like a cat meowing. She froze and held her breath, and the sound came again.

Did the doctor have a cat? She didn’t know. But she wasn’t even sure it was a cat. There was something off about the sound, something that made her heartbeat kick up a notch and sweat break out on her palms. She knocked again and pressed her ear to the door. She heard the sound again. Was it a moan?

“Hello,” she called.

There was no answer.

She tried the door. It was unlocked. She opened it and took a step inside, calling again. “Hello, Doctor Jones? It’s Sadie Cooper. Is everything okay? Hello?” She walked as she talked, announcing her presence in case he was home and all was well. She did not want to have an encounter of the just-leaving-the-shower variety.
 
“Hello?”

She walked toward what she presumed was the kitchen. No lights were on and the shades were drawn, so it was dark. As soon as she hit the tiled kitchen floor, she slipped and grabbed at the wall to right herself. Her adrenaline kicked into overdrive, and she could hear herself breathing heavily, but she wasn’t the only one. Grasping about frantically for the light switch, she finally located it and threw it on. The floor was drenched and slick with blood. Sadie could see the streak her shoe left when she slipped. She followed the trail of blood around the corner of the island and saw Doctor Jones lying in a tidal wave of his own blood.