The News in Small Towns (Small Town Series, Book 1) (27 page)

BOOK: The News in Small Towns (Small Town Series, Book 1)
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There was no doubt about it.  I had found The Compound again, but from another angle.  This then, was where the two backpackers had come from.

None of the people I had seen earlier were in sight, and for once, I heard no rifle shots.  I tried the padlock, but it was fastened.  The boards of the fence were too close together for me to squeeze through so I handed my bow through to the other side and started climbing.  It was only when I had gotten to the top that I realized that my heart was beating so fast I was about to pass out.  As I swung my leg over the top board and began to climb down, a wave of vertigo swept over me. My foot missed the next board and I slipped from the top of the fence onto the soft grass on the other side.  I tried to cry out, but the wind had been knocked out of me and my voice wouldn’t work.

I turned my head.  Two or three men had come out of the barn and were walking toward the field; they looked to be carrying rifles.  On the porch of the largest house, someone else was moving but male or female I couldn’t tell.  I lay back for what must have been a few minutes but, although my breath came back in thick bursts, my strength was gone.  I put my hand out and touched my bow.  The arrow I had been carrying with it was just out of reach, but I shifted my body enough to take it in my fingers.  It was probably the hardest physical thing I ever had to do, but I somehow raised myself to my knees and drew the bow.  The house was nearly a hundred yards away so I had to pull hard and allow for plenty of arc.  With my strength now completely gone I let the string slide over my fingers and felt the arrow fly.

I saw nothing else, felt nothing at all.  I just lay there in the grass.  A horse neighed in the distance.  An instant later,
thunder growled like wild dogs and the sky cracked open.

Chapter 18

 

I woke up in an antique store.

There was a chair with doilies, what looked like tintypes framed on the thick paneled walls, tiny toy animals and other bric-a-brac on shelves and tables.  Shaded lamps with fringe.  Even the bed I was lying in was a large, four-poster with quilted coverlet and white, white sheets.  There was a fireplace against the far wall with a solid oak mantle.  I heard rain splinking against the tin roof.

“Are you all right?” I heard a soft masculine voice from the corner and tried to turn my head in that direction.  It was an effort.  All my energy seemed drained away like blood from a corpse.  In the corner, sitting in what appeared to be a mahogany rocker, was a pretty young man in his early twenties.  His black hair was wavy and long, his face clear and dreamy.  Short, from the way his feet didn’t quite meet the ground as he sat in the rocker.  He looked tired, concerned. 

“Umm,” I tried to speak.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.  “Are you hurt?”

“I . .  . I think I just had . . . I think I just had a thyroid storm,” I managed.  That’s what you get if you don’t take your medicine, boys and girls.

“What’s that?”

“I . . . have a thyroid condition.  I have medicine but I didn’t bring it.”  My voice was getting warmed up and I was finding it easier to speak.  “If I don’t take it my body releases too many hormones.  Have I seen you before?  You look familiar.”

“I don’t think so.”

“What’s your name?”

“Smokey.”

“Listen, Smokey—cool name by the way—where am I?”

“Don’t you know?”

“I’m in an old house somewhere.  Some strange bed.”

A new voice, familiar but stern, came from the direction of the doorway.  “You’re in Torrington.”

“Clarence?”

Clarence Meekins came in the room and stood before me looking seriously worried.  “It’s me, Sue-Ann.  God’s family jewels, what made you come out here?”

“I’m too sick to talk about it right now, Clarence, but you know why.”

“Didn’t I try to tell you—”

“If you want me to talk, you have to give me pills.”

“Pills?”

“I need my thyroid medication.”

“Where is it?”

“I left the bottle in my purse.  White Lexus, parked at that old Pure station near the market.  The key is in my . . . where’s my pants?”

“I’ll get them,” said the young man named Smokey.  I watched him leave and suddenly had a powerful déjà vu.  I may never have seen his face before, but I had very definitely seen the back of his head.  Clean, longish hair, carefully cut and combed.  He left the room for only a few seconds and came back in with a pair of wet and muddy camos in his hand. 

“Right-hand pocket,” I said.

“Want me to take care of it?” asked Smokey.

“I’ll go,” said Clarence.  “But you and me, Sue-Ann, are going to have a long talk when I get back.”

“Bring it on,” I said, and passed out.

When I woke up again the room was dimmer.   I didn’t know how much time had passed and there was no one in the room to ask.  I felt somewhat better and managed to sit up a bit.  “Hey!” I shouted.  I heard footsteps in the hall and Smokey came back in the room.

“You awake?” he asked.

“My horses,” I said.  “I have to feed my horses.”  I thought of asking for a phone, but who would I call?  Gina and Cal were who knows where, Jack was gone.  I had to get up and do it myself, but I doubted I could even make it to the door.

A new voice from the doorway, feminine this time and vaguely familiar, said, “I can do it.”  Krista Torrington walked in carrying a glass of water and my purse.  She was wearing new Nike running shoes which made no noise on the wooden floors.  Her long blonde hair was combed over her ears and curled down in a cascade over her shoulders.  She was much more attractive than I had thought.

“I told you we’d meet again,” I told her.

“Here’s your pills,” she said, taking the bottle from the purse.  She helped me to get one down my throat by lifting my head and letting me have a sip of water.  She laid my head back gently on the pillow.  Smokey had left the room again and I was alone with the girl.  “Why’d you come here?” she asked me.

“Where’s Clarence?” I countered.

“He’ll be back later,” she said.  “He had something to do outside.  Where are your horses?”

Slowly—I couldn’t believe how much effort it took me even to think, much less give directions—I told her how to get to my house, where the feed was, and how much Alikki got.  “Check the water buckets and make sure they have hay in their stall.”

“I have horses,” Krista reminded me. 

Smokey came back in the room carrying a tray.  “I brought you some tea and toast,” he told me.  Krista made to leave.

“Wait,” I told her.  “I need to thank you,” I managed.  “Both of you.”

“For what?” the girl asked.

“For saving my life,” I told her.  “This makes twice, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.  “And don’t thank us yet.”  Then she left the room.

“What did she mean by that?” I asked Smokey.

He sat back down in the rocker and smiled thinly.  “Don’t know,” he said.

Now that I was awake and at least halfway observant, I realized that his was the first smile I had seen since I had been there.  An aura of gloom surrounded the house like thick fog and I felt like I had stepped out of time into the middle of a nineteenth-century funeral.

I managed to take a sip of tea and a bite of toast and I was suddenly very hungry.  I took more bites until the toast was gone.  I drank half the tea and put it back on the table near the bed.  “Did I ask you how I got in this bed?” I asked.

“Jeremy was coming around the side of the house when your arrow almost knocked off his cap before it smacked the side of the house.  Made a hell of a noise, even with all the thunder.  It took five ex-marines fifteen minutes to get to where you were lying.  So scared of a woman with a bow that they were ducking from tree to tree and crawling through the grass and the mud.  They liked it, really.”

“Who
really
found me?” I asked.

“I just told you.  Jeremy and some of his buds.”

“I saw men with guns,” I remembered.

“Yeah, that would be them.  They’re all ex-combat troops.”

“Did someone pick up my bow?” I asked.  “If it’s left out in the rain, the laminations might—”

“It’s in the other room.   Why did you try to kill Jeremy?”

“I—I didn’t.  I was about to pass out and I couldn’t get my voice to work.  I was just trying to get someone’s attention.”

“You got it.  Listen, if you’re so sick, why did you come way out here?”

“I wanted to tell you . . . I wanted to tell you—all of you—that you were safe.  You don’t have to worry.”

Smokey seemed to think about that for a while, then got up and went out of the room.  I heard some vague noises somewhere in the house, heard the wind blow droplets of rain from the overarching oaks onto the tin roof.  I must have dozed off again, because the next thing I heard was a commotion from outside the room.  It was totally dark now.  I tried to sit up again and half succeeded, reached out and found the lamp chain and pulled it.  A soft light allowed me to see movement from the doorway.  The voices got louder. I heard the words “Don’t—” and “You can’t—.”  Then a louder voice broke in, a very familiar voice.

“Ain’t neither of y’all any bigger than a minute, so git your little butts outta mah way,” and the next thing I knew, Gina was in the room, standing at my bedside.  Krista and Smokey crowded in behind her, arguing.

“Hi, darlin,” Gina said.

“Gina.”

“These kids takin care of you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure,” I said.  “How did you find me?”

“Ah was in your house waitin for you when that little gal showed up.  Ah convinced her to bring me here.”

“How?”  I was still so astonished to see her that I could hardly speak.

“Told her ah’d call Dilly and have her arrested for stealin Jack’s car.”

“Gina.  I . . . I saw you with Cal in the jewelry store.  Did y’all elope?  Are you married?”

“No, baby.”

“But—”

“We’ll talk about all that later.  Raht now ah want to fahnd out how you’re feelin.”

I had to think about it.  “I’m okay, I think,” I told her.  “I’ve gotten some strength back and my heart seems to be about back to normal.  Gamma gave me a pill a while back.”

“Who?” Gina asked.

“That girl.  Krista.  She calls herself Gamma when she’s on the radio.”

I looked at the two young people and smiled.  Smokey shrugged his shoulders at Krista and said, “
I
didn’t tell her.”

“Gina, this is Gamma and Smokestack, my two favorite deejays.  Smokey, you and Krista related?”

“She’s my sister,” he said.

“So you’re a Torrington, too.”

“Yeah.  You really listen to our shows?”

“They keep me going.  They also scare the shit out of me.”

“Cool.”

A clump of thick footsteps on the wooden floor made us turn our faces toward the door in time to see Clarence.  He looked in a hurry, but stopped dead when he saw Gina at my bedside.  He looked at both Krista and Smokey with disbelief.  “How did Ginette get here?” he asked them.

“She just . . . came,” shrugged Krista.

“God’s titties, Krista!” Clarence exclaimed.  “What’s your grampa going to say?”

“The Zombie can kiss my tush,” Krista replied sulkily.  “I’m tired of all this secrecy shit.”

“And all these fucking guns and arrows around here are weirding us out,” added her brother.

“What’s everybody talkin about?” Gina broke in.

“Butt out, Ginette,” said Clarence.  “The less you know the better off you’ll be.”

“All right, Clarence,” I butted in, “We’re going to have all this out right now, while I’m still alive and awake.” 

“God’s—”  We never got a chance to hear what part of that deity’s private anatomy Clarence was going to call upon next, because I didn’t let him finish.

“Clarence,” I said firmly.  “You can stand or get chairs.  We’re going to be here awhile.”

“Come on, Clarence,” said Smokey.

The three of them left and I was alone with Gina, which was pretty much all I wanted in the world at that moment.  She sat on the side of the bed and stroked my hair.

“Betty called mah cell and told me about Pauley,” she told me softly.  “We came back as fast as we could.  We read your story as soon as we got to the office.  Cal went to fahnd Paul and ah went to your house.  Ah thought you maht do something stupid and ah was raht.”

“Stupid for not taking my pills,” I said.

“Stupid for not takin
me
,” she corrected.

Clarence, Krista, and Smokey came back in, carrying matching chairs that looked like they were borrowed from a nineteenth-century dining room.  Smokey presented Gina with the chair he brought in and took his place in the rocker.

When everyone was seated, I struggled until I was sitting upright.  I noticed that I was wearing a thick cotton shift, soft and warm.  I took a breath, and began.

“Which one of you put the goat in the dumpster?” I asked.

“Both of us,” Smokey answered.  “Me and Krista. Clarence, too.”

I looked at Clarence with daggers, but he just shrugged.

“I had to lie to you, Sue-Ann,” he said.  “Torrington’s been a secret for over a hundred years.  This is where the first settlers of Pine Oak built their homestead.  And there are a lot of reasons why this place needs to stay a secret.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that,” I said.  “But let’s get back to the goat.  How did you find the goat in the first place?”

“Granpa and I were out riding in the woods,” Krista began.  “He was on Trigger and I was on a mare named Bob.  We heard some voices and some kind of chanting, so we rode closer.  The bushes were really thick near the trail so we were able to ride close without anybody seeing us.  Then one of the kids threw up and the noise or the smell must’ve spooked Trigger, because he reared up and the other two kids saw him.  The girl screamed and they all ran like demons were after them.  I picked up the book they left and gave it to grandpa.  We rode home, called Clarence, and the four of us made a plan.”

“It was a good plan, too,” I said grudgingly, looking in Clarence’s direction.  “If you leave the goat out in the woods, nobody knows about it except you and the kids that stole it.”

“We thought if we called attention to it,” Clarence said, “those kids might get in trouble with either their parents or the police.”

“And they wouldn’t come back into our woods,” Krista added.

“And then your secret would have been safe,” I finished.

“It would
still
be safe if you hadn’t followed that blood trail out into the woods,” Clarence said.

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