Throttled

by Stella Bixby

  “Tomorrow we’ll do snowmobile training—or a refresher for those of you who have already gone through the training.”

  Chairs scraped the floor as everyone prepared to leave.

  “Nikki and Rylie, hold up a minute,” Greg said.

  Seamus shot me a questioning look, and I shrugged.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “You two need to head out to the equipment store to get fitted for your vests.” He tapped his chest where his bulletproof vest sat under his blue uniform shirt.

  “Together?” Nikki spat.

  “Yes, together,” he replied in a tone similar to the one my father used when my sister and I fought over whose turn it was to do the dishes when we were kids.

  “Ugh, fine,” Nikki stomped toward the stairs leading down to the garage bays where the ranger trucks stayed when not in use. “I’m driving,” she yelled over her shoulder.

  I glanced again at Greg, and he gave me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t forget to tell them Greg sent you and to charge it to the city. Can you also pick up the new shirts we ordered?”

  “Sure thing,” I said.

  Nikki was already sitting in the driver seat of the huge black Chevy pickup when I jumped in. “Greg said we needed to pick up some shirts while we’re up there too.”

  “Whatever,” she said and practically squealed the tires pulling out of the shop and onto the road leading out of the park.

  At first, the silence was fine. I didn’t care that she didn’t want to talk to me. It wasn’t as if I really wanted to talk to her either. But the death glares she shot me every two minutes got to me more quickly than I’d anticipated.

  “What is your problem?” I blurted out.

  “Like you don’t know,” she took a corner so sharply the back tire popped up onto a curb.

  “You were afraid of ice rescue training. I get it. I was when I first did it too.”

  She slammed on the brakes at a red light and looked over at me with the death stare of a two-year-old who didn’t want to take a bath. “Ice rescue? You think this is about ice rescue?”

  I wracked my brain. What else could it be? “You’re not still mad that Luke and I had a thing, like, forever ago are you?”

  “Oh yeah, forever ago. I know you’ve been texting and talking on the phone early in the morning and late at night.”

  “Me? Texting Luke?” The last time I’d texted or called Luke was when I’d come across a severed head in the trunk of my car. And he hadn’t answered so . . .

  “Don’t play dumb with me.” She hit the accelerator and drag raced a granny in a town car next to us.

  “You should really watch how you’re driving in the ranger truck. Fishbowl and all.” Greg constantly harped on how we were all in a fishbowl. People watched every move we made and would only be too happy to report us to upper management.

  “Don’t tell me how to drive. And stop denying you talk to Luke.”

  “I seriously don’t talk to Luke. Ever. I’m with Garrett, you know that, right?”

  “Yes. I know that. Luke talks about it all the time.”

  “Sounds like you should discuss this with him.”

  “I have. He denies it’s you.”

  “That’s because it’s not me. Here,” I shoved my phone into her face, “do you want to see my phone? You can check my text messages.”

  “You probably delete them.”

  “Why would I delete them?” This girl was freaking nuts.

  “Because you don’t want Garrett to find them. Maybe I should tell him about all of this.”

  “Go for it. He knows exactly where I am in the mornings and in the evenings and, trust me, it’s not talking on the phone.” Actually, it didn’t include much talking at all.

  I smiled to myself.

  “Stop smiling. You’re just covering for him.” Tears began to form in her eyes.

  “Nikki, I know we haven’t exactly gotten along since we’ve met, but I would never date someone in a relationship, nor would I cheat on anyone. I’ve been cheated on and it sucks. I wouldn’t want anyone else to go through that.”

  “But you and Antonio totally hooked up while he was still married.”

  If I had been driving, we would have crashed.

  I jerked my head toward her so violently I thought my neck might snap. “I most certainly did not hook up with Antonio. Not while he was married. Not since he’s been divorced. Not ever.” Now it was my turn to be mad. “Did he tell you we did?”

  I knew they were close, but I didn’t take him for one to make up stories. Especially about me to Nikki. Granted, he had been ignoring me a lot lately.

  “He didn’t have to.” Her tone was smug. “Luke and I just knew.” She pulled the truck into a parking spot and turned to look at me.

  It was nice to know she and Luke had nothing better to do than sit around and speculate about whom I was sleeping with.

  Fun.

  “Maybe the two of you should get a life and get out of mine.”

  I opened the door and slammed it behind me leaving her in the truck. I didn’t have time for her shit today.

  I marched into the uniform store to find rows and rows of various pieces of equipment, boxes of boots, tactical gear, hats, gloves, guns, knives—basically everything you’d need if you were in law enforcement.

  “I’m a Prairie City Ranger. I’m here to get fitted for my bulletproof vest.”

  The lady behind the counter reminded me of one of my friends in high school. Dyed black hair, tribal tattoos running the length of her arms, and piercings all over her face.

  “You one of Greg’s bunch?” she asked thumbing through the neat stack of papers in front of her.

  “Yep.”

  “Says here there’s supposed to be two of you.”

  “She’s coming.” I motioned to the door where Nikki walked in like she owned the place.

  “Just head on back. Michelle will take care of you.”

  I thanked her and made my way through the tightly packed store to where she’d motioned.

  Michelle was busy talking to a man at the gun case, so I decided to look around and avoid Nikki at all costs. My pulse was finally starting to even out.

  “It’s not in yet? I ordered it two months ago,” the man yelled across the counter.

  “I’m sorry, Officer Ward, we’ve had a bit of a mix-up. It’ll be another week or two.” Michelle’s voice was overly sweet. “If this is your duty weapon, I’m sure the department can come up with a substitution for the time being?”

  “It’s a personal purchase.”

  Michelle seemed relieved as her mouth turned upward at the corners. “I’ll be sure to call you myself the moment it arrives.”

  The man huffed away with a mumbled thanks.

  I took the opportunity to introduce myself. “Are you Michelle?” I asked.

  “Sure am.” The woman smiled. “How can I help you?”

  “I’m here to get fitted for my bulletproof vest.”

  I heard Nikki clear her throat behind me.

  “We both are.”

  “Perfect. Let’s head over here and get your measurements.” Michelle was as tall as Nikki but with smooth dark skin and a head of silky black hair. She pulled out a flexible tape measure like my mother used when sewing and instructed me to lift my arms. After taking what seemed like more measurements than needed, she moved onto Nikki.

  “Do you often get people like that guy?” I asked.

  “What guy?” Nikki asked.

  “He was a joy, huh?” Michelle laughed while jotting down Nikki’s tiny waist measurement. “Nah, usually people are really nice. He’s just pissed because he didn’t get his gun on time. I’d probably be pissed too.”

  I nodded. Never once had I ever considered getting a gun, let alone getting so mad over one.

  “All done ladies. Now just remember you can gain some weight—the straps will stretch some—but not too much without the vests having to be altered so don’t get all
fat like me.” She laughed at herself and walked back to the gun counter. “I’ll get these submitted. They should be here in about two weeks.”

  “That reminds me, we are supposed to be picking up a bunch of new uniform shirts,” I said.

  Nikki hung behind me, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “For Greg?” Michelle smiled. “I really like Greg.”

  Everyone did. He was impossible to dislike.

  While she disappeared into the back room, I eyed the guns in the case. The last time I’d held one was when I was with my ex, Troy. He’d taught me to shoot when we’d first gotten together.

  “He’s leaving, you know?” A whisper came from beside me making me nearly jump into the glass display.

  “What?” I turned to see Nikki examining the rough edge of the glass case.

  “He signed up to go to the Middle East to help train law enforcement units.”

  “Luke? Luke did this?” I asked. My head was spinning. Of course, I was with Garrett now, and Luke and I were ancient history, but I still didn’t want him to leave the country.

  “Yes. Luke did this.” She looked up into my face. “You really didn’t know, did you?”

  “I told you, he and I don’t talk.”

  “If he’s not talking to you, who is he talking to?”

  Why did I care? I didn’t need to care. I hadn’t seen Luke for years before we’d reconnected this past summer. It wasn’t as if he and I were ever going to get together.

  “Has he been accepted? Or did he just apply?”

  “He said he applied.”

  “Then he might not even go, Nikki.” Troy had applied once and had never been accepted. “I wouldn’t get so worked up over it. Not yet, at least.”

  It hit me at that moment just how serious their relationship was. She wouldn’t be freaking out if this were the fling I’d imagined in my mind. That fact soured my stomach and made me hate myself for reacting that way. It may be true that I’d never cheat physically on Garrett, but if my heart couldn’t get over a certain someone, was it really being faithful to my actual boyfriend?

  No.

  I was over Luke. Definitely. I was only worried about his safety. If he went to the Middle East, he might never come back. And if he never came back . . .

  “Thanks, Rylie,” Nikki said quietly. “Sorry I accused you of going behind my back.”

  Was she really being nice to me?

  I opened my mouth to speak when Michelle popped out from the back. “Here you go, ladies. These shirts will look nice on you.”

  The shirts looked downright heavenly. They were the cleanest, most wrinkle-free uniform shirts I’d ever seen. I wanted to hug them.

  “Sign here that you received them,” Michelle said, and Nikki signed on the line.

  “Let’s get back to the reservoir, my shift is almost over,” Nikki said practically throwing the pen on the counter. “And don’t bother trying to talk to me in the truck. We’re not friends.”

  “Damn,” Michelle whispered as we walked away.

  4

  Every part of my body ached with exhaustion. Though ice rescue was my favorite of the trainings, it still left me feeling like I’d run a marathon.

  The sun formed a beautiful orange and blue sunset over the snowy prairie. I sipped my coffee while keeping warm in the ranger truck.

  The park was nearly empty besides the couple of ice fishermen who seemed to be making their way off the ice and three high-school kids messing around on the beach. The kids weren’t dressed for the weather. The girl with long blonde hair wore black leggings, a white shirt that covered her butt, and a crop leather jacket. The two boys wore jeans and hoodies—each with the local high school football logo.

  It was apparent the taller boy with dreamy brown hair was dating the girl, and the shorter boy with dirty blond hair was completely jealous. The couple would hold hands and kiss and playfully push each other toward the ice while the third sulked behind, flashing a smile anytime the other two looked at him. Typical high school drama.

  A tap on my window nearly made me spill my coffee all over my button-down uniform shirt.

  “Sorry, Rylie, didn’t mean to scare you,” Reginald, one of the daily ice fishermen said when I rolled down the window.

  “It’s okay. I was off in my own world.”

  “Young love. Sweet.” He nodded towards the kids who were now testing the strength of the ice near the shore. “Maybe not terribly smart though.” Polly—his tiny white dog—popped her head out of the collar of his jacket.

  I laughed. “How was the fishing?” I should have checked his fishing license, but I’d already seen it about a hundred times since the reservoir froze over. I knew he was legit.

  “It was okay. I think your training session scared all the fish away.” He scratched Polly behind the ears, and she licked his nose.

  “Sorry about that,” I said. “Just making sure we can save you if you get in a bind.”

  Reginald—probably in his mid-seventies—looked like he could be Beyoncé’s grandfather. He even had the same hair. “In that case, I guess I’ll give you a pass.” He winked, not in the creepy way some of the fishermen did, but in the cute old man way.

  “Have a good evening,” I said as he walked back to his truck. “Bye Polly.”

  “You too,” he called out over his shoulder.

  I watched the kids as long as I could before I had to begin my closing routine. Being that the park wasn’t busy in the winter months, there usually was only one ranger at Alder Ridge Reservoir to close. And since the sun went down so early, we closed earlier too. That only meant that I’d be back first thing the next morning to open again.

  After closing the smaller gates on the back side of the reservoir, I returned to the plaza and closed up all of the bathrooms and offices.

  The only car left in the lot belonged to the teenagers, and they zoomed past my truck on my way to check on them. Everyone was so afraid of getting a ticket for being in the park too late—or maybe they thought I’d lock them in and then their parents would freak out. Either way, I was only too happy to put the truck in the shop and take off in Cherry Anne. I popped the trunk to put my bag in and nearly fell backward.

  There was a body. In my trunk. The same place where a severed head had lived for over a week this past fall.

  “Ranger Seven, Ranger Two.” My hands shook as I clicked the mic. “I’m going to need some assistance at the shop.” Seamus was working a trail shift that evening.

  “I’ll call yeh on yer cell,” he said.

  “I need to call the police,” I managed to squeak out. Before he responded, my cell rang in my pocket. “I found another body,” I said when I answered. “I need to call the police.”

  “Can yeh describe the body for me?” Seamus asked.

  I didn’t want to describe the body. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the body.

  “I’m just going to call the police, and they can take care of it, okay?” I started to hang up, but Seamus called out.

  “Hold on, don’t hang up Blondie.”

  “What?” I hissed into the phone.

  Why were dead bodies always finding me? Why Cherry Anne?

  “It’s not a dead body. Don’t call the police,” I heard footsteps coming from around the side of the building. I instinctively grabbed for my pepper spray.

  “Whoa, whoa! Put it down,” Seamus said.

  The one light that cast an eerie glow on the parking lot in front of the shop revealed Seamus walking toward me.

  “What are you doing here?” I hung up my phone and shoved it back into my pocket.

  The smile on his face made me want to punch him.

  “Yeh look like shit, Blondie.” He sauntered over to the back of my car. “Like yeh seen a ghost.”

  “Just a dead guy.” How was he this nonchalant? “Can I please call the police now?”

  “I think yeh need to take a better look.”

  I begrudgingly walked to where Seamus stood
next to my work bag that I’d dropped in the snow. At first, I felt like my insides might revolt, but then I realized what was really in my trunk.

  My heart rate was through the roof. I turned and punched Seamus in the arm.

  He didn’t even miss a beat before laughing so loudly it could have cracked the ice.

  “You are such a jerk.” I yanked the dummy from the trunk of my car and tossed it into the snow. It was a wonder Shayla liked this man.

  “Yeh. Should. Have. Seen. The. Look. On. Yer. Face,” he said between gasps of air.

  I tossed my work bag into the trunk. “Are you going to leave or should I lock you in?”

  He grabbed his keys from his belt. “Yeh can’t lock me in if I have keys to get out.”

  “Whatever,” I opened Cherry Anne’s door and slid inside. “I have to be back to open in the morning. I’m going home.”

  “Come on. It was a little funny, yeah?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe a little.”

  “Can yeh imagine if yeh’d found a body in your trunk? I think yeh might’ve gotten fired just for stirring up so much shit since yeh’ve been here.”

  He was probably right. Four murders since I’d been hired. One more and I could be terminated for sheer superstition.

  5

  The morning came too early. Getting home after my parents went to bed and leaving before they woke up had its benefits, as did having two entire days off after working such long shifts.

  I opened the gates and headed to the office to check the phone messages. Seamus hadn’t followed me out the night before, claiming he needed to do paperwork, so I was on guard. I wasn’t going to let him get to me again. My eyes were peeled for a dummy sighting.

  After turning off the alarm systems, I unlocked the same bathrooms and offices I’d locked the evening before and headed to the ranger office with my huge latte. The light on the phone was lit up indicating there was at least one message.