Hunted

by T. M. Bledsoe

  Both Devyn and Johnna looked at Lanie, panic on both their lovely faces. They were quickly realizing that if the person she’d come across in the woods decided to come after her, and he managed to find out where she lived, they were in the house with her, which meant he might go through them to get to her.

  “I really don’t think that will happen,” Lanie stated, trying to inject some firmness into her tone. “But, you don’t have to stay here if you’re scared. You can call your moms to come get you.”

  She certainly didn’t want them both to spend the next few days being terrified that a crazed maniac was coming for them. That would not be a fun few days for anyone.

  Lanie watched both girls play out the options in their minds. They could either stay with her and risk facing a possible crazed killer, or they could go back home and follow their mothers to the nail salon and around town while they did their errands and got their feet buffed. It didn’t take them long to decide they’d rather face the killer.

  “I’ll stay here,” Johnna answered.

  “Me, too,” Devyn agreed, though there was some trepidation behind the words.

  “I wish you hadn’t done that, Lanie,” Johnna told her, shaking her head. “You have to be smarter than to put yourself in danger that way. Did you even think about what it would do to all of us if something happened to you? Did you even think about what it would do to your dad? It would kill him!”

  Wow. Johnna was going to make a very good mother one day. The guilt was crushing!

  “I didn’t do it to put my life in danger,” Lanie defended herself. “I tried to call my dad, but he didn’t answer. I wanted to get a picture of the car before it got moved, so they’d know what to look for and so they could run the plates.”

  “That was smart, but stupid,” Devyn stated seriously. “I think your grief is clouding your judgment.”

  Lanie thought about that for a moment. Was her grief clouding her judgment? She didn’t think so. She’d been thinking quite clearly, actually. She’d wanted to see if it was the car from The Pub. She’d wanted to stay there and get a picture of it for her dad. She’d wanted…she’d wanted…to maybe somehow see if the car really had belonged to the young man sitting in the corner. She’d maybe…maybe wanted to…possibly catch a glimpse of him?

  Really? Had that been the reason why she’d gone into the woods to look at the car? Because wanting to catch a glimpse of a complete stranger, who very well could be responsible for…doing that…to Stacy, would make her a total nut job!

  “Let’s just hope Sheriff Bancroft finds him and throws him in jail before he decides to do anything else,” Johnna declared sternly.

  “He may not have had anything to do with what happened to Stacy,” Lanie pointed out.

  Devyn looked at Lanie as if she’d lost her mind. “Lanie, do you really think that? I mean, Stacy Miller winds up dumped out in the park with her throat slashed and then this guy appears from out of nowhere, lurking in the woods, no less! And you really think it’s just a coincidence? You can’t be that big a meshugganah!”

  Lanie shrugged. Maybe she was a crazy person.

  Both girls gawked at her with open mouths. “Lanie, cute guys can be evil, too,” Johnna told her unnecessarily.

  Yes, but strangers could also be innocent. Lanie knew that her friends were so quick to point the finger at the young man because it was vastly more comfortable to think that someone who had nothing to do with the town was responsible for…doing that…to Stacy. It hurt, and it was terrifying, to think that a friend or a neighbor might have killed the girl.

  That sudden realization sent alarm racing through Lanie. What if everyone in town, including her own father, was quick to point the finger at the young man? What if he’d really done nothing, yet he was the one who took the blame? And it would be all her fault. She was the one who’d called her dad, she was the one who’d taken the picture of the license plate. Whatever happened to the young man, it was on her shoulders! It was a sickening thought that made her regret ever dialing Sheriff Bancroft’s number.

  “Listen, all this talk is giving me the creeps. Why don’t we forget about it and order a pizza from Tony’s?” Johnna suggested, trying to shake it all off.

  “I’m in!” Devyn said, whipping out her phone. “Do you want the works or just cheese?”

  “This calls for the works,” Johnna said with a heavy sigh. “And order some cheese bread and cinnamon dippers, too.”

  Clearly, Johnna thought the stress of the situation outweighed the need to have thin thighs.

  Devyn obeyed, phoning Tony’s Pizzeria and placing their order, deciding to add in an bucket of wings and three of their famous brownie bars with icing. Devyn had obviously decided to forego any worry about her thighs, too.

  Order placed, they all went down to wait for the delivery in the living room, deciding that while they were there, they might as well dig through the DVD collection and watch some movies while they ate their pizza. While Devyn and Johnna argued over what romantic comedy to watch, Lanie futzed around, fluffing up the sofa pillows and getting some blankets out of the wooden chest sitting beneath the front window.

  As she shut the lid of the trunk, something flashed outside, bringing her attention up to the front yard and the street beyond. With her pulse suddenly racing, Lanie surveyed the world outside, but the yard was still and the street was empty, with not a person or a car in sight.

  Thinking it was just a play of the evening sunlight, Lanie turned away from the window to join Devyn and Johnna, but shot a last glance over her shoulder, just to be sure. There was still nothing there but the deserted street, the old oak tree standing guard by the front gate of the picket fence, and the pale pink sky beyond.

  Sunday morning dawned somber and grey and with the news of what had happened splashed all over the morning paper, which seemed to cement the fact that life in Fells Pointe had been changed forever. There had never been a headline blazed across the Fells Pointe Gazette like this one.

  LOCAL GIRL FOUND SLAIN!

  Seeing it in writing was jarring somehow. Which was why Lanie simply took the paper into the kitchen and handed it to her dad, who was up and getting ready for work even though he’d stayed out until one in the morning the night before. She knew a girl had been slain. She did not need to read about it.

  “You’re up early, squirt,” Sam said, taking the paper and tossing it onto the counter top before pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “Not really,” she answered.

  She hadn’t slept a wink, in fact. She’d done nothing but toss and turn and go over and over her encounter with the handsome young man in the woods. She just could not get him out of her head, no matter how hard she tried. She also could not, no matter how hard she tried, convince herself that the young man might possibly have had something to do with what happened to Stacy. Maybe that made her completely insane, or completely naïve, but she simply could not imagine that he was capable of doing something that horrible to anyone. Her gut just would not allow it.

  “It’s in the paper,” she told her dad.

  “It’s to be expected,” Sam answered. “You don’t have to read it, though. Not if it’ll upset you.”

  She had no thought of reading it. “Did you find the guy from the woods?” she asked, going to the fridge for the carton of juice.

  “Not yet. I’ve got a BOLO out on him, but he hasn’t turned up,” Sam told her. “Don’t worry, though, squirt. There aren’t many places for a man to hide around here, so if he’s still in town, we’ll find him.”

  Lanie felt a slight surge of relief hit her. Maybe the young man had left town, which meant that he wouldn’t be accused simply because no one wanted to believe one of their own was responsible for killing Stacy Miller.

  “Did you find out anything about him?” Lanie asked, pouring out some juice and taking a long swallow, liking the way it stung her throat on the way down.

  “I ran his plates and got some inf
ormation, which you know I can’t give you,” Sam told her with a smile.

  Dang it. She would have at least liked to know his name. “Dad, Devyn and Johnna want to put up a memorial for Stacy, in the park where she…you know. When do you think you’ll be finished there?”

  Sam poured himself a cup of coffee and took a swig of the steaming liquid. “We finished up there yesterday. I think you can go ahead and do it. Her family will appreciate the thought.”

  “Finn said he’d asked his mom so she could run it by Mayor Wylie,” she stated, putting the juice carton back in the fridge.

  “I’m sure Tomas won’t mind. It’s a nice thing to do for the Millers,” her dad said.

  “They want to have a fundraiser, too,” she went on, wanting to keep him informed. “They thought they could raise some money to help the Millers with some of their…expenses.”

  Sam’s brows shot upwards. “That’s a very thoughtful idea. The Millers could probably use a little help with that. What do those girls have planned?”

  “I think they decided on a car wash and a flower sale,” she said, remembering the very involved and lengthy conversation between Devyn and Johnna the night before.

  “Oh? What sort of flower sale?” Sam questioned, setting down his coffee cup so he could straighten his olive green tie.

  “Well, if we can put the memorial up in the park, then they’ll set up a table next to it so they can sell flowers for people to leave there,” she answered.

  “Hmmm. That’s a pretty good idea,” Sam said, impressed. “Those Spirit Squad girls can hustle when they have to.”

  A truer word was never spoken.

  “Are you going to help them out with that stuff?” Sam asked her.

  “Probably. I mean, I want to do something…for Stacy,” she said, taking another gulp of her juice.

  “Well, I want you to pitch in if you’re up to it, but the rules still apply. You do not go off on your own and you have to be back in this house before dark, no matter what else is happening,” ordered her father.

  Lanie nodded. “I know.”

  “When is all this going on? Soon?” came the question.

  “I guess I’ll know today,” she said. “Are we still doing Sunday dinner or will you be busy?”

  “I’ll probably be busy, squirt. This is bad business and there are a lot of details to deal with,” Sam replied and then hit Lanie with a look that caused her stomach to squeeze.

  “What? What’s wrong?” she whispered, not sure she really wanted to know.

  “Well, squirt, you were the last person to see Stacy alive, so I’m going to have to get your official statement for the records,” her dad told her.

  A slightly sick feeling wafted through her belly. “When do you need me to come to the station?”

  “I think you should come around lunch time. I’ll be at the station by then,” said Sam, picking up his cup and taking another swallow of coffee.

  “Okay, but I really can’t tell you anything,” she said unevenly.

  She’d been in the Sheriff’s Station countless times in her life, but never to give a statement. It made her feel nervous and uncomfortable just thinking about it.

  “I know, squirt,” Sam smiled comfortingly at her. “But, you were the last person with Stacy. No one saw her after that, so you’ll need to give me as many details as you can remember.”

  “Alright. I’ll be there,” she said.

  “I’ll be waiting. Just make sure to stay with Devyn and Johnna today and call me and let me know where you’re at and what you’re doing,” Sam told her, putting his cup into the sink and heading for the kitchen door. “And if you see this guy Lanie, or his car, call me. I’ll answer this time.”

  “I will,” she promised her father.

  Once her dad was out of the house, Lanie picked up the newspaper, dropped it into the garbage can and shut the coffee pot off, which her dad always forgot to do, and then made her way through the silent house and out the front door, stepping out onto the porch in time to see her dad’s patrol car disappearing around the corner onto Pine Street.

  The air was damp and too chilly for early October, causing Lanie to huddle deeper into her grey fisherman’s sweater. It was only seven thirty and the world was still hushed, but things were always hushed on Sunday mornings. The grey sky overhead seemed to be threatening rain, and the darkness of it gave the world a very ominous and lonely feel.

  Usually on Sundays, she would be thinking about what she and her dad were going to prepare for dinner, and then Aunt Gretchen would show up and completely derail their plans by jumping in and deciding to cook something completely different. And then after dinner, they’d sit down and her dad would watch football or some other boring guy thing and she’d futz around on her computer or do her homework until time to go to bed.

  Not this Sunday, though. This Sunday her dad would be out trying to find the person who killed Stacy Miller, whose family wouldn’t ever get to have another Sunday dinner with her.

  Before she could stop them, her thoughts slid to a very handsome young man with wheat colored hair and sparkling green eyes, who was so unfortunate that he was sleeping in the back seat of his car. Certainly, he wasn’t having Sunday dinner with anyone. She doubted he’d had a Sunday dinner in quite a while.

  Again, she was swept with the feeling that she’d just caused the young man an unnecessary amount of trouble. That knowledge bothered her. It ate away at her actually, knowing that she’d set her dad on him and yet feeling that there really had been no reason for her to do it. She really hoped, that if he truly didn’t have anything to do with what had happened to Stacy, that he was out of town and long gone.

  Letting out a breath, Lanie sat down in the rocking chair by the front door, feeling the cold instantly seeping through her favorite pair of old jeans. She turned her gaze to the tree lined street and the houses running up and down it, all with darkened windows and empty lawns. Normally, she liked getting up and outside early. She liked the quiet and the peace, the eerie charm of feeling like she was all alone in the world. But, at the moment, it felt more depressing than charming.

  Putting her elbows on her knees, Lanie closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath of the chill, damp air, and tried to force her racing thoughts to be still. They were bouncing around so that she was starting to come down with a headache and all that bouncing wasn’t getting her anywhere at all.

  However, her effort to still her ping-ponging thoughts was promptly ruined when she found herself suddenly seized by that same feeling she’d had in the cemetery, that feeling of sinister eyes on her, watching her. The feeling was strong enough to cause apprehension to tingle along her spine and her eyes to fly open so that her gaze could dart up and down Rosetree Lane. But, there was not a person to be seen. No one was out in their front yard getting the morning paper nor was there a shadowy and mysterious figure peering at her from behind a tree or around the corner of a house.

  Yet, that feeling persisted, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise up and her stomach to clench hard. The feeling became so insistent that it pushed Lanie to her feet and though she probably should have went straight back into the house, she instead headed across the porch, down the steps, past the fancily dressed scarecrow and bales of hay, and out into the yard, stopping when she reached the white picket fence.

  Taking hold of the cold, damp wooden pickets, she leaned over the fence and again glanced up and down the street, searching for anything that didn’t belong, a shadow, a flash of movement, some sign that there might be a pair of eyes watching her. But, the street was deserted and still. Nothing was moving. Not even the wind was blowing through the tree tops.

  Annoyed with herself, Lanie huffed out a sigh, causing a slight burst of steam on the cool air. Clearly, she was becoming paranoid! On the upside, probably everyone else in Fells Pointe was in the same boat with her. Everyone was undoubtedly jumping at shadows and feeling imaginary eyes watching them. She could take some comfort
in that fact.

  “Lanie!” a voice boomed in her ear just as a hand clamped down onto her shoulder.

  A shriek was ripped from Lanie as she whipped around to face her attacker, terror skittering along her nerve endings and her heart leaping up into her throat. Instantly her self-defense lessons flooded back in on her and she pulled her arm back to swing, but let out another shriek and jerked her fist to a halt.

  Her attacker was not an attacker at all, but instead was only Devyn, who was shrieking right along with Lanie as if she was the one who’d had the life scared out of her!

  “Devyn! What are you doing!” Lanie snapped, dropping her arm to her side.

  Devyn, still shrieking like a banshee, couldn’t answer. Her shrill yelps were echoing up and down the quiet street like ear piercing gunshots.

  “Devyn! Why are you screaming!” Lanie demanded, thinking the girl had lost her mind. “You scared me!”

  Hearing that caused the girl’s ear piercing squawks to abruptly cease, which plunged the street back into dead silence. There was a long moment during which she and Lanie just stared at one another, neither of them saying anything.

  “Well!” Lanie demanded, trying to force her heart back down into her chest where it belonged.

  “Oy! Well what?” Devyn said breathlessly, clutching at her own heart.

  “Why on earth were you screaming? You snuck up on me!” she stated, feeling addled.

  “I don’t know. I-I thought you saw something that scared you,” Devyn explained, fanning her cheeks now.

  “The only thing I saw was you!” Lanie said, shaking her head at the girl.

  “Well! I didn’t think I was that meeskeit! How was I supposed to know seeing me would scare you that much!” Devyn said defensively. “I figured if it was bad enough to make you scream, I should scream, too. That way, maybe more people would hear us and come out to help.”

  Lanie stared at the girl for a few seconds, torn between bursting into tears and bursting into laughter. Laughter won out, though it came out sounding rather a bit more like a scornful snort than she meant it to.