Gwen left the Jeep in drive, keeping her foot on the brake. She wanted to be able to make a quick getaway should the need arise. She wasn’t a foolish woman, and she certainly wasn’t taking any unnecessary chances that could result in her life being cut short.
She pressed the button on the steering wheel that changed her radio display to her contacts. It didn’t take her long to choose Mitch’s name and connect the call. While she waited for him to answer, she slipped her hand inside her purse for her weapon and checked to make sure she had a round in the chamber. The safety was on. In the service, they called a weapon in this configuration a condition one weapon.
Within a few seconds, the Beretta was fit snug against her palm and ready for action. She checked her mirrors to ensure no one was sneaking up on her, inspecting her blind spots, as well.
“Sis, I can’t talk right now. Chester and Stella are fine, but he somehow rammed their vehicle into a utility pole earlier tonight. Half the town is without power, and I can’t reach Irish.” Mitch muttered a few curse words before answering someone’s question that must have been there with him. “Get Byron to run over to his apartment above the garage. He should be there.”
Gwen breathed an inaudible sigh of relief so that Mitch couldn’t hear it over the speaker. It would explain why her father’s house had electricity, but her place didn’t. The farmhouse was located on the opposite side of town, though that was only a few miles drive from one end to the other.
“You’re not going to find Irish, Mitch.” Gwen stored the firearm back into her purse before parking the Jeep. “Chad and Miles were run off the road by a drunk driver. His truck got stuck in a ravine, so Irish headed out that way to give them a tow back to town. I figure they’re around forty-five minutes out, give or take the time it took to do the recovery.”
“Son of a bitch.”
Mitch began relaying her message to whoever was on the scene, but Gwen wasn’t going to keep him any longer than necessary.
“Mitch, go take care of Chester and Stella.” Gwen let the engine idle while she finished up the call. “And for Christ’s sake, get the electric company out there to fix that pole. I don’t want to be stumbling around in the dark for the rest of the night.”
Gwen severed their connection before Mitch could ask her why she’d called him in the first place. She didn’t want him to think she couldn’t handle things on her own or else she’d be coddled by him until she was in her nineties. That wasn’t going to happen, because she planned on beating her brothers at shuffleboard when they were old, grey, and hunch-backed.
She turned off the key in the ignition, cutting the engine. With a flick of her wrist, she was able to get the dome light to illuminate the interior of the Jeep. She dug out the small pad of paper she’d been keeping the list of items needed done at the house, taking time to add the generator.
Jace was a really big advocate of having a full-sized generator that ran on natural gas, but most rural areas had very limited access to natural gas service in this part of the country. Any generator would sure as hell come in handy tonight. The backup battery on her sump pump in the basement would only last so long.
After thinking of a few other things to add, she finally clicked the pen and shoved both the writing utensil and pad back into her purse. She removed her weapon more for psychological security than anything else. She couldn’t be too careful. There was a valid reason her house had been descended into darkness…and it had nothing to do with the serial killer that had plagued her hometown for far too long. Caution was important, and she had been trained to always be observant of her surroundings.
Gwen reached into the glove compartment for the flashlight she kept on top of her registration and insurance papers. Once she had everything in the proper grip, she exited the Jeep before pressing the button on the key fob. The vehicle’s alarm echoed throughout the still of the night, most likely giving the wildlife a brief start.
Sure enough, there weren’t any crickets to be heard once the ringing in her ears began to fade.
A gust of wind came from the western field.
Damn, it was getting cold early this year.
Gwen quickly made her way up the porch steps. She held the flashlight in between her teeth as she steadied the beam on the deadbolt. It didn’t take long to slip the key into the slot and disengage the bolt. She did the same with the doorknob, finally welcoming the warmth of the house.
The electricity couldn’t have been out for too long. Her father had thought she was crazy, but she’d already set the heat to come on at night for a comfortable seventy degrees. Her decision to do so was probably the only reason her house didn’t feel like the inside of a refrigerator right now.
Gwen used the heel of her knee-high boot to close the door behind her. She set her purse and keys down on the small table she’d tucked against the wall, still waiting for the large ceramic bowl she’d ordered online. It should arrive tomorrow, along with the throw pillows she’d purchased to add a bit of color to the living room.
The faint fragrance of pumpkin spice filled the air, courtesy of the plug-ins she’d strategically placed throughout the house. She doubted she would have time to bake this fall, and the delicious scent reminded her of Mary Kendall’s homemade pumpkin pies. They would normally have had that for dessert at dinner tonight instead of apple pie, but her mother’s recipe was missing from her recipe box when Gwen had gone looking for it.
Gwen kept the beam steady in front of her as she slowly made her way into the kitchen. One of the kitchen boxes she’d unpacked the other day had been her previous junk drawer. It was a rather well-organized junk drawer, but it still had an assortment of items…such as extended lighters she used for the various candles she had around the house.
The ringing of her cell phone coming from the living room had her using a few more epithets than her brother had. Then again, he hadn’t been in a dark house that could have been written into a horror movie. She promised herself that wouldn’t be the case once she did all the upgrades and the exterior was brought up to her satisfaction.
Gwen snatched the lighter from right where she’d left it, closing the drawer with her hip. She did take time to store her weapon in the small of her back at the waistline of her jeans. She really should get her holster out of the closet, but having a weapon on her during normal business hours wasn’t so conducive when speaking with clients.
She made her way back into the living room, but the call must have gone to voicemail. It was no doubt Chad, calling to tell her that he was on his way. She’d call him back in a few minutes, after she lit a few candles so that she didn’t have to continually hold the flashlight. It didn’t take her long, and she’d even gone into the bathroom on the main level to light a smaller candle she’d set on the back of the toilet.
There.
The downstairs was done, but the upstairs could wait until she spoke with Chad. With him being back in cell phone range, Mitch had no doubt gotten ahold of Irish. She could still relay the message regarding Chester and Stella’s slight mishap with the utility pole.
Gwen rounded the corner from the bathroom off of the kitchen, carefully making her way into the living room when she came up short. She forced herself to blink, her instincts reverting back to her time in the service.
A dark silhouette shifted slightly in front of a candle—the only candle left burning—making it impossible to tell who was standing in the middle of her living room. The shadows had all but contoured the front of the male figure, but she instinctively recognized that it wasn’t Chad or any of her brothers. This intruder had obviously been blowing out the candles she’d lit, thus making it almost impossible for her to make out his identity.
“I’ll give you three seconds to head for the door,” Gwen said softly, though doing her best to keep her voice steady. She would show no fear. It didn’t matter that her heartrate had accelerated, perspiration had coated her body, and adrenaline was now pumping through her veins. The training she’d u
ndergone in the military allowed for adrenaline spikes and stress while still completing the mission—and her goal was clear. “If you don’t leave, I’ll be forced to kill you.”
Gwen had already scanned his silhouette for any indication of a weapon, seeing nothing but his fingers dangling at his sides. That didn’t mean anything in this standoff, other than she might have a second or more advantage. She wouldn’t waste the time given to her, either.
“Three.”
Gwen ever so slowly inched her arm behind her, finally able to even out her breathing once her palm slid over the pistol grip of her Beretta.
“Two.”
She was able to ease the weapon out of the waistband of her jeans with practiced simplicity. A hundred scenarios ran through her mind, but she shut them off after three or four. There was no place for doubt in this moment.
It was her life or his, simple as that.
He’d apparently made the decision not to leave, which meant he’d taken the choice out of her hands. She had no intention of dying today, not with everything she had to live for right here in Blyth Lake. There was no time for second-guessing, reservations, or remorse.
“One.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“You know, this could be a sign that you should hire someone,” Chad said, lifting his hand in response to his father’s goodnight gesture. Irish kept the tow truck idling as they both watched Miles enter his home through the side door. The old man never used the front door, and neither did anyone else that wanted to see him. For all Chad knew, the damn thing had been painted shut years ago. “Even Delaney had Murray Jones helping him out on these late-night calls, though I’ll admit they’re probably few and far between. And mostly in the winter.”
“I thought about hiring one of the Keller boys, but who knows if I’d have any tools in the shop come the next morning.” Irish carefully drove around the driveway and out onto the road, still needing to drop Chad off at Gwen’s house. After that, he needed to take Chad’s truck back to the shop, unhook it from the tow rigging, and then head out to collect Chester’s car. “I’ve heard about their reputation for sticky fingers.”
“No worse than mine back in the day,” Chad admitted, thinking back to his misspent youth. “They’re good kids, Irish. They’re just teens living in a small town with nothing to do. They need a firm hand and some discipline.”
“Don’t you dare tell me those boys are just bored. They could go fishing, hiking, or to the damn movies.” Irish came to a stop sign, using the small break to rub his tired eyes. He hadn’t been the same since coming out to the town about being a lawyer in his past life or that his sister had been one of the victims in the lake. “Honestly, it’s one of the reasons I thought about hiring one of them…or both. They can learn to change oil, rotate tires, or restore old cars. It would at least keep their asses out of trouble.”
“Are you getting soft on me in your old age, Irish?”
Chad waited for some quick-witted reply by trying to reach Gwen once more. He’d tried a couple of times ever since they’d gotten into cell phone service range, but she hadn’t picked up. Irish had suggested that maybe she was still over at her dad’s place, but it was pretty late. More than likely, she’d fallen asleep on the couch or was in the shower.
“You don’t think about having kids?”
Okay, this sure as hell wasn’t the quick-witted reply Chad had been expecting. The line had already connected to Gwen’s voicemail, so he ended the call and studied Irish to see where this conversation was headed.
“It’s crossed my mind a time or two,” Chad confessed, resting an elbow against the window. It was rare that either one of them ventured into this type of territory, usually keeping things casual on the surface. It was easier like that. “I mean, it’s not like either of us are getting any younger.”
“Enough kidding around. Is she the one?”
Chad didn’t ask Irish to clarify on the she. There was only one she in his life—Gwen Kendall.
“I didn’t go looking for Gwen,” Chad revealed, using his cell phone to rub his chin as he pondered on the direction his life had taken recently. This was the type of conversation he should be having with his brothers, but that would never happen. Honestly, Irish was as close to a brother as Chad had ever gotten. “She pulled up in that red Jeep as if I’d ordered the perfect woman on Amazon Prime. There isn’t one thing I would change about her, Irish.”
They rode through town in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.
“Chester must have done a number on that utility pole,” Irish muttered, entering the back half of town and taking the side road that would lead to Gwen’s farmhouse. “If you want, I can take you and Gwen back to your place. The west side of town seems to have electricity.”
Chad was already shaking his head, figuring the electric company would be onsite and have things up and running soon.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. Mitch is probably chomping at the bit as it is.” Chad breathed a sigh of relief when Irish slowly drove down Gwen’s long driveway. Her red Jeep shone brightly in the headlights of the tow truck. “See? Gwen came home, so we can always take her Jeep over to my house if need be.”
Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea, given that the entire house had been descended into darkness. The clouds overhead had gathered enough to edge out the moonlight for the most part, though every once in a while a beam or two made it through to the ground.
“Roger that.” Irish carefully maneuvered the tow truck so that he could easily drive around the gravel circle without having to reverse. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow with the damage estimate.”
Chad wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the damages were to his truck, but it wasn’t like he could go without a vehicle for any stretch of time.
“I get the friend’s discount, right?”
Irish just laughed, so Chad slammed the passenger door shut. He smacked his palm on the side of the tow truck, giving Irish the all clear that he could pull out. Chad didn’t waste time and was on the porch in just a few giant steps. He pulled out his keyring, having already taken off the truck key to give to Irish.
There was one problem.
The front door wasn’t locked.
Gwen had the habit of locking everything and anything, most likely acquiring that irritating habit from her time in the military. This was Smalltown, USA. No one ever locked any of their doors. That was until recently. Now everyone and their mother were locking all their doors, windows, and anything else that had the ability to keep a killer at bay.
Chad turned the doorknob, giving a slight push to the wood so that he wasn’t directly on the threshold in case he needed to react. He wasn’t one of the Kendall boys, having served in the Marines. Chad owned a rifle or two, but he had never needed a handgun. That didn’t mean he was without common sense.
He purposefully didn’t call out Gwen’s name. There was no way she wouldn’t have noticed the headlights coming through the various windows at the front of the house. Maybe it was time she got a dog.
Had Gwen simply forgotten to lock the front door? Was she upstairs in the shower or perhaps taking a bubble bath to chase away the chill that had settled in the old house?
A candle flickered on the entry table she’d positioned by the door. It gave off a bit of light, but not enough for him to have a clear view past eight feet. The arch between the living room and the kitchen was pitch black.
He shot a glance toward the staircase, but it faded into the shadows after three steps.
It was then he realized that the only sound he could hear in the stillness was his own uneven breathing. There was no jangling of pipes to indicate that water was running, no swish of moving water from upstairs, and absolutely no reverberation that signified someone was in the house.
It was as if the home had been abandoned once more.
A decision had to be made, though he did have to fight against his instinct to instantly seek out Gwen. Something was wrong. He
could feel it eating away at his gut, but he wouldn’t be foolish enough to put her in danger.
Chad made sure to look in both directions as he quickly accessed his phone that was still in his grip. He didn’t like the sense of being unprotected out in the open, so he took a step over the metal plate and allowed the screened door to quietly close behind him.
“Kendall.”
“Mitch, you need to get out to Gwen’s place. Now.”
Chad didn’t wait for Mitch to reply. He disconnected the call and used his phone as a flashlight, which was only slight better than the candle for a source of light. He still reached out to touch the glass jar. It was hot as hell, which meant that Gwen had lit it some time ago. She’d been here a while.
He saw the evidence that everything wasn’t okay almost immediately—there was a bullet hole in the wooden frame of the door and a shell casing on the floor.
Son of a bitch.
Chad once again had to fight the inherent need to scream her name.
She’d discharged her weapon right here. There was no way in hell she would have done so if she hadn’t been in fear of her life. The smell of expended gunpowder had faded to almost nothing.
With every step he took, he continued to listen intently for any indication that Gwen was nearby. He was half expecting to find her lifeless body lying on the floor, but he prayed to the contrary. She was everything he wanted in his future, and he couldn’t accept that she had been taken away from him.
Chad made it as far as the kitchen, stopping long enough to weigh the odds that whoever she’d shot at had gotten the upper hand. Had she been taken upstairs? He couldn’t recall seeing anything out on the front porch that would indicate a struggle or a body being dragged.
Once again, he was faced with a decision. Did he retreat and begin looking outside? Did he retrace his steps to the stairway and take a look around upstairs? Or did he continue into the kitchen?
The choice was made for him.
Directly in front of him in the kitchen was the sound of something metal scraping the floor. Before he could react, there was literally a brilliant flash of light…a split second before the piercing sound of a weapon being fired reached his ears.
Unlocking Shadows (Keys to Love, Book Four) Page 17
