Sandy's Story (Ditch Lane Diaries Book 3)

by D. F. Jones

  Ditch Lane Diaries:

  Sandy’s Story

  by

  D. F. Jones

  Sandy’s Story

  Ditch Lane Diaries, vol. 3

  Copyright © D.F. Jones 2016

  I S B N : 978-0-9861227-5-0 ebook

  I S B N : 978-0-9861227-6-7 paperback

  Notes:

  Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with the copyright laws.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, including, but not limited to, scanning and distribution in any electronic forms, and information or storage systems without the explicit written permission of the author.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, that are living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Jones Media

  Editing by Alicia Street

  Proofreading by Jody Wallace

  Formatting by Author E.M.S.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue – What Becomes of the Brokenhearted

  Chapter 1 – When The Going Gets Tough, The Tough Get Going

  Chapter 2 – Sweetest Taboo

  Chapter 3 – That’s What Friends Are For

  Chapter 4 – I Didn’t Mean To Turn You On

  Chapter 5 – Addicted To Love

  Chapter 6 – All I Need Is a Miracle

  Chapter 7 – Broken Wings

  Chapter 8 – Evil Ways

  Chapter 9 – The Way It Is

  Chapter 10 – Greatest Love of All

  Chapter 11 – Human

  Chapter 12 – Live To Tell

  Chapter 13 – Invisible Touch

  Chapter 14 – True Colors

  Chapter 15 – Sledgehammer

  Chapter 16 – There’ll Be Sad Songs

  Chapter 17 – These Dreams

  Chapter 18 – Take My Breath Away

  Chapter 19 – Higher Love

  Epilogue – Who Loves You

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Books by D.F. Jones

  Dedication

  With tremendous thanks to my readers, your support, encouragement, and comments fill me with great joy and inspires me daily to continue my incredible writing journey.

  Fun Fact: Chapter titles are song titles from the 1980’s.

  Prologue

  What Becomes of the Brokenhearted

  Ohio 1966

  Nine-year-old Sandy woke from a slumber to the handsome face of her dad’s boss, Mr. Ben, as he gently shook her leg. “Wake up, honey. I came to tell you the story I promised.”

  Sandy wiped the sleepies out of her eyes and smiled. “I thought Daddy said you couldn’t.”

  Ben smiled back and rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. “Your dad thinks I’m outside for a smoke. Come here, sweet child. Would you still like to hear a story?”

  Sandy jumped up and down on the bed. “Oh, yes, please tell me a story.”

  Ben bent down as Sandy reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. He sat Sandy on his lap and began to stroke her long, silky chestnut hair. “You’re more beautiful than Sleeping Beauty. You’re fairer than all of the princesses in all of the stories ever told, my darling.”

  Sandy snuggled into his arms as Ben told her the story of Sleeping Beauty. She relished every detail, and her innocent eyes were bright with excitement. Near the end of the story, Mr. Ben ran his hand under Sandy’s nightgown and began to rub her bare leg. Sandy frowned and tried to push him away. She struggled with all of her might to wiggle her way out of his grasp, but Mr. Ben held her tightly.

  He whispered, “It’s all right, darling. Prince Charming did the same thing to Sleeping Beauty.” Mr. Ben pushed her down on the bed, placed one hand over her mouth and the other hand inside her panties. Sandy tried to fight him, but she wasn’t strong enough.

  Baldric, her guardian angel, appeared, and Sandy rapidly blinked tears. He whispered, “Do not be afraid, little one. Your father is here.”

  Sandy’s father, Hugh, burst into the bedroom, jerked Mr. Ben up in the air and punched him in the stomach. Sandy pushed with her feet against the wall, her teeth chomping down on the blanket as she shook uncontrollably.

  Hugh yelled a steady stream of curses as he smashed Mr. Ben’s face with his fists, splattering blood on her bed and toys. “You perverted son of a bitch. I’ll kill you, motherfucker, for touching my daughter. I’ll kill you.” Hugh wrapped his hands around Ben’s neck and began to choke him.

  Sandy’s mom, Sally, ran into the room screaming, “Stop it, Hugh! You’re killing him. Stop it.” Sally smacked Hugh several times across the face before he released Mr. Ben, who lay unmoving on the floor.

  Hugh rubbed his face with his hands. With a crazed look, he said, “Call Dad. Tell him to get over here now.” He walked over toward Sandy, and she burst into tears. Frightened and confused about what had just happened, Sandy recoiled from her father.

  “Is he dead?” Sally scooped Sandy into her arms and said, “You call your dad. She’s in shock, and I’m going to put her in the tub.” Then Sandy fainted.

  Sandy didn’t know how much time had passed between the chaos in her room and the time her mom placed her in the bathtub. The warm water soothed her aching privates. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I’m sorry. I wanted the story.”

  Sally reached over in the tub and hugged her daughter. Her voice quivered. “Honey, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about. Let’s get you dried off. You can sleep with us tonight.”

  Wide awake, Sandy lay in her parents’ bed when she heard Papa come inside the front door. Hugh and Papa were shouting at each other downstairs. Suddenly, heavy footfalls rushed up the stairs and into her bedroom. Sandy slid out of her parents’ bed, went to the door, and cracked it open.

  Papa said, “Thank God, he’s alive. Jesus, son, you have to get out of here. The Salingers own this town. Sam will see you behind bars for beating his son.”

  “Are you kidding? Me, arrested? The son of a bitch ruined my baby girl. Dad, I caught him with my baby. I want to kill the bastard.”

  Sandy squeezed the doorknob. She didn’t understand what her daddy meant by ruined.

  Her mom sounded frantic. “My aunt lives in Tennessee. She’s all alone in that big house of hers. I’ll call her. She’s been so lonely since Uncle Dale died. We’ll move to Tennessee. Hugh, I can’t lose you.”

  Papa let out a deep sigh. “Rumors have circulated about Ben’s preference for little girls, but I never believed it. I’ve been friends with Sam since we were boys. I’ll take Ben to Sam and tell him what his boy did to Sandy. Just in case, you start packing. What you can’t take with you, I’ll bring to Tennessee later. Be on the road by daylight. I want you as far away from this mess as possible.”

  Sally cried, “Sandy needs a doctor. She needs to go to the emergency room.”

  Papa said calmly, “Look, Sally, Hugh could get arrested if Sandy goes to the hospital. Sam’s on the damn board. He’d have them bury the records. I know how Sam operates. I’ll take Ben to Sam, and he can decide what to do with him. Ben will live with the scars from tonight.” Papa began to pace about the floor. “I’d kill him myself if I could get away with it. No, I think it’s best to take Sandy and go to your aunt’s house. In the long run, it’ll be the best for all of you.”

  Sandy moved swiftly back into her parents’ bed when she saw her mom walk down the hall. Sally slid into the bed and wrapped her arms around Sandy. “Honey, how are
you feeling?”

  Sandy sniffled, and her voice cracked. “Are we moving to Tennessee? I’m afraid, Mommy. I’m scared of Daddy.”

  Sally brushed the hair away from her daughter’s eyes and pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Never be afraid of Daddy. He loves you and will do anything to keep you safe. I want you to try to sleep. Tomorrow we’re going on a new adventure. You’re going to love the country. Tennessee is beautiful, and my Aunt Ellen’s farm has cows and kittens.” Sally held Sandy in her arms, rocking her back and forth.

  Sandy’s brain wouldn’t go to sleep. It was her fault they were moving away from the only home she’d ever known. Why had she agreed to the bedtime story? Why did Mr. Ben have to hurt her?

  The next morning, slivers of sunlight peeked through the curtains. Sandy covered her face and rolled over in bed. She’d been unable to sleep last night from listening to her mom and dad whisper to each over about her. Finally, Sandy got out of bed and quietly went down the stairs. She peeked through the spindles and watched her parents load the car.

  Sally came in the front door, looked up at Sandy and gave her a smile. “I laid some clothes out for you in the bathroom. You don’t have to go into your room. I have Teddy down here on the couch waiting for you. Are you hungry?”

  Shaking her head in silence, Sandy trudged slowly back upstairs into the bathroom. She changed out of her nightgown and into her play clothes, brushed her hair and teeth. Before Sandy went downstairs, she walked back into her room and hugged herself. The room looked the same, but it was different. She used to love her room. Now it made her want to puke.

  Baldric appeared before her and knelt down on one knee. She stared into his eyes that were the color of spring grass. He held her hand and said, “Daireann, you’re strong. You’re going to be okay, I promise.”

  Sandy leaned over and lightly touched his face with the palm of her hand. “I’ll never be okay again. I’m ruined. Daddy said so.” Baldric’s eyes began to water, and she tilted her head to the side. “What’s wrong, Baldric? Please don’t cry.”

  Baldric held her in his big, strong arms, and for a moment, she felt safe. He said, “I will always be here for you. Let’s go get Teddy.”

  Baldric led Sandy out of her room for the last time. Downstairs, she glanced at Teddy still propped on the couch. Averting her eyes, Sandy walked out the door and down the sidewalk. She’d never play with stuffed animals again. Sandy opened the car door, slid into the backseat, and waited for her parents. She stared down at her clasped hands instead of looking back at her old home.

  On the road to Tennessee, Baldric kept trying to play the game where they talked to each other using their minds. She turned to him. I don’t want to play. I’ve ruined my family. Leave me alone.

  Baldric tilted her chin up with his forefinger. What happened to you last night wasn’t your fault. Do you hear me? Moving to Tennessee was your parents’ decision, not yours. They’re doing what they think is best for you.

  Sandy pressed her forehead to the glass and stared out the car window. She watched as the miles pushed her further away from Mr. Ben. Sandy couldn’t erase the image of his face, the stench of whiskey and his aftershave, the feel of his fingers pushing her panties down and hurting her. His severely beaten and bloody face forced its way into her memory and shut her eyes tight trying to block the image.

  * * *

  Everglade, Tennessee

  Sandy watched as Hugh pulled into Aunt Ellen’s driveway and turned off the ignition. Aunt Ellen’s smiling face lit up as she waved to greet them from the front door. The big two-story yellow farmhouse had a broad front porch and down the steps along the sidewalk lined brightly colored flowerbeds. Several kittens scurried under the porch lattice.

  Ignoring her aunt and parents, Sandy bolted out of the car and ran down the driveway to the bubbling brook running along the farm’s property. She sat on the ground and propped her elbows on her knees. In her peripheral vision, Sandy saw a girl riding her bicycle down the road.

  The red-haired girl wore pigtails, a sleeveless orange and green plaid shirt, and white shorts which hit at the knee. The girl pedaled over to Sandy, hopped off the bike, and used her foot on the kickstand to prop it. “Hey there, I’m Ruby. My mama said Ms. Ellen had family moving in today. Wanna come over and play at my house? My friend, Anna, will be over soon. It’ll be fun.” Ruby placed her hands on her hips while she waited for an answer.

  Sandy plucked strands of grass through her fingers. She cocked her head to the side and slowly smiled. “Yeah, but I need to ask my mom first.”

  Ruby extended her hand to help Sandy up. When Sandy reached for it, Ruby quickly withdrew it and wiggled her fingers. “You snooze, you lose.” Ruby started laughing and said, “Come on, Slick—I’ll race you.” Sandy and Ruby ran to Aunt Ellen’s house.

  * * *

  Later that night, as Sandy lay in her new bedroom, Baldric appeared and sat on the edge of her bed. “Do you like Tennessee?”

  “I love it, especially Ruby. She’s funny and makes me laugh. Her family is loud, and they laugh a lot, too.” She pulled the blanket up to her chin and yawned.

  Baldric squeezed her hand. “I’m happy for you. Ruby and Anna will be your lifelong friends.”

  Sandy remained silent for a moment. Emotion boiled up inside of her soul and tears rolled down her cheeks. “Mr. Ben changed me on the inside.” Sandy placed her right hand over her heart. “I never want to be a princess, and I never want a prince. Fairy tales aren’t real. Friends are real. That’s what I want. Don’t look so sad, Baldric. You told me I was strong, and you’re right. I am strong.”

  Sandy pushed the horrific memories of Mr. Ben to the furthermost corners of her mind, buried them, and locked the door. It would be nineteen years before Sandy reconciled what happened to the little nine-year-old girl.

  Chapter 1

  When The Going Gets Tough, The Tough Get Going

  Nashville 1986

  Sandy monitored the Nashville Police Department (NPD) frequencies on her scanner to pick up leads for news stories while getting ready for work. Listening to the hunt for a shooter, she pulled a black cashmere turtleneck over her head. “All points bulletin for a white male, wearing a black or dark blue hoodie and driving a 1985 black Ford Explorer, license plate TN3490. Ambulance and squad car being dispatched to 17th and Edgehill.”

  The rest of the APB description fell on deaf ears. She recognized the location from other recent crimes in the area. Sandy grabbed her new camera, her car keys and ran for the door. She didn’t have time to call her boss, Art, to tell him she’d be late. He’d forgive her if she came in with a story.

  As an investigative reporter for Channel 3 News in Nashville, many of the stories Sandy covered were unsolvable crimes. But on occasion, she could find the truth through her visions. Clairvoyance was a gift from The Creator she’d received at the age of fifteen, unlocked by a mystical hiddenite stone during a spelunking adventure with her best friends, Ruby and Anna. Over the years, Sandy’s visions blessed her with multiple Associated Press (AP) awards, but awards didn’t help her sleep at night. Sometimes, trying to understand her extrasensory abilities frightened the hell out of her.

  Old Man Winter was back with a vengeance as Sandy navigated the icy roads. She skidded a time or two, but she managed to stay on the road without sliding off into a ditch. She should be driving at a snail’s pace, but she needed to beat the police to the scene to have a shot at seeing the victim’s past and unlocking the secrets of the early morning shooting with just a touch of her hand.

  Sandy turned onto Edgehill, parked in front of the sidewalk, and exited her car. As she approached the crime scene, there were a handful of bystanders huddled together outside in the cold. One woman in the group pointed and yelled, “Hey, there’s Sandy Cothran from Channel 3 News.” The power of television along with Sandy’s face plastered across town on billboards gave her little privacy.

  Sandy strapped her camera bag over her shoulder and nodded
to the group. “Good morning, everyone.” A gold Lincoln Continental’s engine was running with the driver door open. The upper body of a man lay off kilter on the asphalt while the rest of him remained inside the car.

  Placing her camera bag on the ground, Sandy gently touched the man’s forearm. His life force was draining fast. Sandy yelled back at the group of bystanders, “Where’s the freaking ambulance?” The victim was unresponsive. He had a gaping bullet wound in his chest. Sandy took off her winter coat and applied pressure to the wound. He was beyond her help.

  Sandy traveled through her visions on cords of light. At times, she could see millions of strands of light that sometimes ran for miles and spanned decades. Mental images flashed through her mind so fast that it made her extremely nauseated. The victim had a faint pulse as his evening unfolded in her mind at blinding speed.

  A map of downtown Nashville lay across an old walnut desk in a shabby little office with fluorescent lighting. His father had opened Henry’s Tailor Shop nearly thirty years ago. Nick London started working in the shop as a teenager and eventually inherited the store after his dad passed away.

  Nick’s finger trailed the map down the route along Broadway and stopped at the corner of First Avenue. Two red X’s marked the corner block properties.