by Lauren Carr
Stunned by her reaction, J.J. watched in silence while the argument grew increasingly intense.
“We had no suspects until yesterday,” Cameron said. “For the last eight months, we’ve had no leads.”
“We didn’t know anyone was sleeping in the barn until you told us just now,” Joshua said. “And you’ve known that for twelve hours and only just chose to share it with us.”
“I would have shared it sooner if I’d known there was a killer on the loose,” Poppy said.
“Everyone, please calm down,” Suellen said. “Maybe we should have said something to you about what happened last winter, Poppy. Please accept our apologies.” She reached out to the trainer.
“We’ll have Sheriff Sawyer and his deputies come out to check the farm and the orchards to see if they can identify whoever it is that you saw.” Joshua took his cell phone out of his pocket. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some evidence up in the loft.”
“All I found were food wrappers and a blanket and bottles of water.” When Joshua brought his phone to his ear, Poppy added, “I don’t think calling the sheriff is going to do any good. Now that this guy knows I’m here and that there are people around, he’ll be long gone.”
“We still need to have this report on record,” Cameron said. “If it ends up being connected to my case, it could help us track down the killer.”
While Joshua stepped aside to talk to Sheriff Sawyer on the phone, Izzy took Poppy’s hand. “You don’t have to be afraid of some ax murderer coming after you, Poppy. Dad and Cameron will catch him—they’re the best.”
Joshua hung up the phone. “Curt is on his way.” Then he turned to Cameron. “Let’s go take a look up in the loft.” He started up the ladder.
Poppy shot a glance over at the horse stall in which Gulliver, her leopard-spotted Appaloosa, was chomping on some hay. When he saw her looking at him, his ears twitched as if to wave hello.
Anxious to see the evidence of a possible killer, Izzy pushed her way ahead of Cameron and climbed up the ladder to the loft. “Don’t touch anything,” Cameron said.
“Well, I guess we’re going to have visitors,” Suellen said on her way out of the barn. “I should go lock up Charley so that he doesn’t attack the sheriff again. Those two really haven’t gotten along after what happened last time.”
“While you coppers and lawyers are doing your thing, I’ll take Gulliver up to the outdoor arena and lunge him.” Poppy grabbed a lead from a hook in the tack room.
“Lunge?” J.J. repeated the unfamiliar word.
“Exercise,” Poppy said. “I’ve spent so much time with the other horses today that he feels neglected.” She headed for the barn door. “Come on, handsome. Time for you to work out. Let’s tighten up those abs.”
J.J. watched Gulliver step up to his stall door, drop his head over the top of it, and work the latch on the door with his mouth. Once he had unlocked the stall door, he pushed the door open with his snout, stepped out of it, and walked through the open barn door to follow Poppy up the trail to the outdoor arena.
It didn’t take Joshua long to discover the nest that someone had constructed out of bales of hay. The makeshift bedroom contained a worn sleeping bag, a blanket, and a pillow. As Poppy had said, the bed was surrounded by candy and chip wrappers and several bottles of water, some of which were empty and some of which were not. “Yup, someone’s living here all right.”
Cameron went over to the upper-level barn door, which opened up to the pulley used to haul bales of hay up into the loft. The opening provided her with a view of the pasture and the road that led to the crest of the hill. The orchards were on the other side of the hill. “Poppy said she saw him taking off toward the orchard. Maybe that’s where he works. Like she said, he could be a worker who needed a place to stay temporarily and thought he could stay here in the barn without anyone noticing.”
“Or it’s Vinnie Brady hiding out,” Joshua said as he rummaged through the trash in the nest. “But you said Vinnie’s drug-dealer friend put out a hit on him—”
“Something like that.”
“That was at least eight months ago,” Joshua said. “Why stick around?”
“Maybe because of Clyde,” Cameron said. “He did point a shotgun at you when you were here in the barn. Maybe he’s afraid of losing more than his job.”
As soon as Poppy crested the top of the hill behind the barn, she broke into a run. Behind her, Gulliver quickened his gait. He followed her past the outdoor arena, along the trail leading through the trees, and down to a clearing by a quiet stream, which was where Poppy’s truck and camper and the old bunkhouse were.
The bunkhouse was a two-bedroom farmhouse that had been built in the 1940s by two young school teachers who had attempted to make a home on the ten-acre farm. In the 1980s, after their children had grown and moved out of the area, the couple had sold the property to the Russells and moved to Florida to be closer to their children.
Off and on for many years, the Russells had rented the small house for a very reasonable price to farm employees in need of temporary housing. As it had been unoccupied for over ten years, it lacked many modern conveniences, like a dishwasher and air conditioning. J.J. needed to ask the utility companies to turn on the power before Poppy could move in. He wondered whether the outdated electrical wiring and plumbing would be able to handle usage.
Poppy had been content to live in her camper until she’d discovered that, thanks to her new job, she was surrounded by police officers and lawyers.
Without slowing down, she scooped up the folding chair that she’d placed next to the door of her camper and threw it inside. After doing a quick survey of the interior of her camper, she realized that many things were out of place and would be thrown about during her getaway.
Never mind. She’d drive carefully, and then after an hour on the road, she’d pull over to batten down the hatches.
His ears twitching, Gulliver watched her jump out of the camper and run up to the truck, which she had unhooked from the camper. After climbing into the driver’s seat, she checked the rearview mirror, put the truck in reverse, and backed up, trying to be both fast and precise at the same time.
After she had gotten close to the camper’s hitch, she opened the driver’s side door to see how far she was from it and whether the truck was lined up with it.
“You need to turn the steering wheel to the right more.”
A shriek escaped from deep in her throat. She froze. Holding her breath, she slowly turned her head to where J.J. was standing next to Gulliver, who was staring at her with his ears standing upright and forward.
J.J. and Poppy looked at each other in silence.
“Where are you going, Poppy?”
She climbed out of the truck and checked the alignment of her truck and the camper’s hitch. “I told you that I never stay in any one place for too long.”
“I figured that that was because you were nomadic, not a runaway.”
She turned back to him. “I am not a runaway.”
“After you cleared that hill”—J.J. pointed back up the trail—“you started running. And you were running away from us. That makes you a runaway.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever.” She went back to the cab of her truck.
“The jury acquitted you,” he said. “So why are you running?”
With her back to him, she stopped half in and half out of the truck.
He stepped up to her. “They believed that you killed your stepfather in self-defense.”
“Not everyone did, though.” She turned around to face him. “My own mother didn’t believe me—even after she saw the tape of him raping me and trying to strangle me.”
J.J. sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” His voice was soft. “I can’t imagine your own family betraying you like that.” He swallowed. “But we’re not the
m.”
“Your father is a prosecutor, and he called the sheriff, who I assume is his good buddy.” Her eyes narrowed to dark-emerald slits. “They probably go hunting together.”
J.J. shook his head. “My dad’s not into hunting. Neither am I.” He chuckled. “But they have gone bowling together. But when they bowl, they’re on separate teams. Sheriff Sawyer and his deputies are on one team, and Dad is on Cameron’s state trooper team.”
“Whatever.” She flipped her head, and her red hair fell back behind her shoulders. “Fact is, all of you small-town cops and prosecutors work together to protect your pervert friends, twisting and spinning the truth to get what you want no matter who it hurts.”
She started to climb up into the driver’s seat of her truck. He stopped her by grasping her arm. Whirling around, she raised her hand—ready to strike if need be.
Immediately, J.J. released his hold on her and held up both hands in a sign surrender. “Maybe injustice and corruption of power is rampant where you come from, but that’s not the way things are here.” He stepped back to give her space. “Listen, I know that nothing I say is going to convince you that you’re wrong about us. I mean, you were only sixteen years old when they threw you in a grown-up jail and charged you as an adult for murder even though there was a tape of him raping you and trying to kill you.”
“The sheriff and the prosecutor said that since I had set up the camera to record Bill raping me, I had set him up. They said that I’d lured him to my bedroom and made it look like he was raping me,” she said with a scoff. “They even told the media and the jury that I had let him see the camera, knowing that he would get mad, and that since I had my dad’s old hunting knife in the room, I’d planned to murder him all along.”
“Because you claim he killed your father,” J.J. said.
“I know he killed my father.” She slumped against the side of her truck. “Mom told everyone that he’d abandoned us, but I knew differently. My dad was just a simple farmer with horses and cattle. Our farm was next to Bill’s. Well, Bill got wind of the fact that a housing developer wanted our farm. Dad didn’t want to sell it. Bill tried to get the developer to buy his farm, but he refused. Our farm was in a better location. All Dad had was that farm, and it had been in our family for three generations. So Bill seduced Mom, and they had an affair. A few months later, my daddy left to go Christmas shopping, and he never came back. I was seven years old. Within a year, Mom sold the farm to the developer, and a few years after that, a judge declared my dad dead and Mom married Bill. Everyone said my dad had run off, but I knew my dad never would have done that. He never would have left me.”
“And your mother didn’t believe you when you told her that Bill had raped you?” J.J. asked.
“That would have inconvenienced her,” Poppy said. “If she’d believed me, she would have had to divorce Bill or turn him in to the police, and her new social standing would’ve been gone. He made it very clear that he could have me anytime he wanted, so I knew he would do it again. I thought that if I recorded it and made Mom see it for herself, she would have to admit that her new husband was a monster.”
“But things went sideways when he realized you were recording him,” J.J. said.
“Bill went bonkers and tried to strangle me.”
“And the hunting knife?”
“I had put it under my mattress for protection against him before I decided to record him,” she said. “I had actually forgotten that I had it there. Then, while he was strangling me, I remembered it, reached under the mattress, pulled it out, and stabbed him in his side.” She sighed. “And I kept on stabbing him. The prosecutor said that the fact that I’d stabbed him, like, eight times was proof that I’d wanted to kill him.”
“He took your father away and raped you,” J.J. said. “One would expect you to be angry. If I’d been defending you, I would’ve said that the multiple stab wounds were an indication of your temporary insanity.”
“Well, my court-appointed attorney wanted me to cut a deal, but I refused.”
“Good for you.”
“He basically told me to expect to go to jail. I don’t think he believed me either.” She teared up. “By the time we went to trial, the whole town believed that I was a manipulative, vindictive slut.” She let out a hollow laugh. “You want to know the irony?”
“What?”
“I was a virgin when he first raped me.” A tear ran down her cheek. “My only experience…like, with a man was—” She wiped away the tear and scrambled up into the truck. “I need to get out of here.”
“You don’t need to run away from us,” J.J. said. “We’ll protect you. I’ll protect you. I promise that I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that again.”
She turned to him. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough,” J.J. said. “I read the court documents from the trial. They’re public record. When I ran the background check—”
“I don’t use my real name,” she said. “How did—”
“I lifted your fingerprints from the inside of your truck when I helped you set up camp,” he said. “Like you, I have some trust issues. These are very valuable horses, and my little sister thinks that you’re the best thing since puppies and kittens. I needed to know who you were.”
“Even with all of the things that that bastard prosecutor said—”
“Your testimony and the tape convinced the jury that you were telling the truth, and they convinced me too. In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve seen that you are a very strong woman. You had no one. Any other teenage girl would have turned inward—or rolled over and died. But you didn’t. And when everyone was against you—the sheriff, the prosecutor, the town, and even your own mother—you stood up and got on that stand, and you told your story. And you won. That jury saw the truth in you, and you walked out of the courtroom and away from that town.”
“I killed a man.” She gazed down at him. “And you don’t care?”
“Yes, I care,” J.J. said. “I care that you were strong enough to put up a fight and to stand up against a monster who was abusing you. I care that you didn’t back down and cop a plea. I believe that we’d be proud to have you take care of our horses—and we’d be glad to have you spend time with Izzy.”
“Yeah, you say that now, but wait until your father finds out that his daughter is looking up to a killer.”
“He already knows.”
“You told him?”
“My sister is taking horseback-riding lessons from you. She looks up to you. My dad is very protective.”
“What does he think?” she asked.
“The same as me,” J.J. said. “You were acquitted. That makes you innocent in our eyes.” He stepped toward her. “I’m not going to beg you to stay, but I am going to ask you to please think about this. Suellen is counting on you. She sees something in you—she calls it a gift. I don’t know if that’s what it is, but I do see that when you’re around, the horses are calmer. It would mean so much to Suellen if you stayed.” J.J. reached out for her hand. “You said Gulliver was your only friend. I want to be your friend too, Poppy.”
Fear flashed across her face when she pulled away from him.
“I’m not talking about sexually,” he said while stepping back again. “I love Suellen. You can see that she’s sick. I can’t help her and run this farm on my own. I need someone who knows how to run a farm to help me. You’re resourceful and strong. I need someone like that. I’m willing to trust you. You need to trust me.” He held out his hand for her.
She looked down at his hand. There was a long silence, and J.J. wondered whether she was going to bolt after all. She looked over at Gulliver, who had wandered up the trail, eating grass the whole way.
“Well, Gulliver really has taken a liking to Comanche, and she does need me. Plus I did promise Izzy that I’d teach her to ride.”
>
“She’d be heartbroken if you left.”
“She’s a good kid,” Poppy said. “Reminds me of when I was her age—back when I was innocent.”
“You are innocent,” J.J. said.
Sucking in a deep breath, Poppy placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her down out of the truck. She offered him a shy smile. “I haven’t had a human friend in a long time.”
“Nice to meet you, friend.” J.J. grinned back at her.
That night, after a long day of working the case and worrying about Izzy and her new horse, Cameron straddled Joshua’s back and massaged his aching muscles. While it was a gesture of love, she also expected payback after she was finished, which was why she’d insisted that he take off all of his clothes before stretching out on the bed.
“You’re getting too old to be working on a horse farm,” she said while pressing her palms down hard against his shoulder blades.
His face in the pillow, Joshua let out a groan. “Clyde is almost seventy, and he’s still working that farm.”
“He also got kicked in the head last year. You’ve spent your life behind a desk. J.J. runs every morning.”
“I run.”
“Not every morning,” she said. “J.J. also belongs to a mixed martial arts club and competes in bouts with other fighters. If Captain tried to kick him in the head, I think J.J. could kick his butt.” She moved her hands down to the small of his back so that she could work his spine. “What is it about J.J.? What Murphy does is a lot more dangerous than what J.J.’s doing. You’re not fussing over him.”
“That’s what you think,” Joshua said. “Generally, I don’t let people see me fuss.”
Cameron’s cell phone, which was on the night table on her side of the bed, rang. They groaned in unison. She continued to straddle his back and reached over to grab the phone. The caller ID said that the call was from an unknown number. With a sigh, she pressed the button to answer the call.
