by Gray Gardner
“Uh, yeah, yes ma’am… I’m just…”
“Saddle sore,” Hall winked arrogantly, sitting across from her at the table and slamming the bulky black walkie-talkie down. “Among other things.”
Case shot him a death glare as her eyes flashed over to the housekeeper.
“Do you call them?” the housekeeper asked, setting two full plates down in front of them. They were overflowing with green chili chicken enchiladas, some white cheese actually bubbling over onto the tabletop. Case’s stomach rumbled and she forgot to kick Hall under the table.
“Yes, they’re calling off the search and heading home. Oh, by the way, Helena, this is Case…” he paused deliberately before revealing her last name. Then he just continued. “Case, this is Helena.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Case smiled, holding out her hand. Hall looked surprised at her etiquette but she ignored him. She wasn’t the backwards hick he’d imagined her to be… though neither was he.
After quickly scarfing down their food, they “retired” to the library where Helena brought them both a brandy in a Waterford crystal goblet she recognized. It was the same pattern her family had. She sat back in a puffy brown leather chair and half grinned at Hall as Helena left them in the room, the fire in the oversized fireplace providing the only light in the bookshelf lined two-story library.
“I’m sure you know the girl in the dorm who can get you alcohol,” he smirked, taking a sip of his brandy and relaxing on his chair next to a long French window. He’d been well acquainted with that guy at boarding school, too. He enjoyed his end of the day routine but wasn’t really used to having company… especially company like this. He wanted to feel comfortable, though. “But if you don’t like the taste I’ll take it.”
“My darling, I was the girl in the dorm who got you the alcohol,” she replied, taking a sip of the brandy. It warmed her instantly and she smiled as she leaned back. Lie. She hadn’t really been that enterprising, but her roommate had been, so she’d gotten all of the illegal substances she could ever want during her four years in the upper school. She’d taken instantly to scotch, but this brandy wasn’t bad, either.
He gave a half laugh, then stood and approached a state of the art sound system in the shelf by the window. The only new thing in the house, she noticed. He began flipping through cassettes as he sipped his drink.
“Do you like music?” he asked, running his finger over album titles.
“Yeah,” she smiled, sitting up a little. “In the dorms we listened to NWA, Beasties, and GNR like, all the time.”
He turned and looked at her pensively.
“You know,” she leadingly said, holding out her hands. “Straight outta Compton? NWA? Come on!”
“Sorry,” he laughed, turning back to his cassettes. “I have… uh, George Strait, Guns’n Roses…”
“Yeah, that’s what I said, too! GNR…duh.”
“Right,” he grinned, popping out Appetite for Destruction and shoving it into the player. He knew a little about rap music. If her parents had been alive, they would have wrung her neck if they found out she listened to bands that used that kind of language. As it was, no one’s parents had a say in anything they did anymore in that town. It seemed to work out for most people… except Jackson McCann.
“Mr. Hall, Sergio take Ouisie to the stables,” Helena called from the hallway.
“Thanks!” he called back, as Welcome to the Jungle began to play from the speakers surrounding the room.
Case furrowed her brow as she sloshed her brandy to the side. “Wait, wait… you named your horse Ouisie?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged, standing and refilling his glass. He turned and approached her, refilling hers as well with the crystal decanter. His hand enveloped hers as they held the glass. He quickly finished and cleared his throat. “The other one was already named George…”
“Your horses’ names are George and Ouisie?” Case asked, an incredulous look on her face. Her parents had only bought purebred horses that came with names like Born on the Bayou and The Duke of Kent. Her horse had been an imported Arabian named The Queen of Denial. Her brothers had gotten into breeding and selling quarter horses, and they had important names, as well. She smiled as he sat back down.
“What?” he asked, taking a sip. “It’s a good show.”
“I agree,” she shrugged, holding her hands up in a fake surrender. Why did he keep surprising her? It was a little unnerving. She didn’t like to think of herself as a presumptuous snob. And she hated herself for holding her breath the whole time he’d held his hand around hers as he poured her another drink. She knew he’d noticed. She went back to sarcasm quickly. “Move on up to the east side, I always say.”
“Finally gotta piece of the pie,” he sighed, closing his eyes.
“You’ve always had the entire pie, Halston Blackhill,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
“Call me Hall, please,” he replied, not opening his eyes or showing any change in his mood at that comment. “And you’re one to talk, Case McCann.”
Squinting her eyes, she sighed and ignored him, leaning back in her chair. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimed ten times, and she suddenly filled with dread. She took the entire brandy down in one sip.
“You have to call your brothers now, don’t you,” he stated, suddenly standing up when she did.
Looking down at her white tennis shoes, she nodded, taking a deep breath. Fun time was over. Now she had to take the heat. Hall surprised her after he turned down the music by handing her a phone with a long curly white cord and another drink. She took a long sip and dialed Joel’s number on the rotary.
“Hello?”
“Chrissy? Hey, sorry, it’s Case…”
“Casey? What’s wrong? Was your apartment not ready in Dallas? I told the movers to have all of the things I bought moved in and arranged by the time you got there! Do you need something else?”
“Chrissy… uh, can I talk to Joel?” she asked, looking up as Hall watched her. She knew he could hear everything. The least he could do was give her a little privacy. She turned and tucked her chin into her chest.
“Hey, Chrissy worked really hard on that place. The least you can do is thank her…”
“Joel, I’m not in Dallas.”
“What? You’re still at school? I thought the campus closed on Sunday.”
“I’m in Oakwood.”
“What?”
She held the receiver away from her head as she tried to get the courage to say what needed to be said. “Joel… Jackson isn’t here, and it looks like he hasn’t been here for a couple of months.”
“You went home? Doesn’t your internship start in a couple of weeks?”
“Joel!” she loudly stated, gripping the phone tightly. “I just told you that Jackson is missing! The bills are piled up, he hasn’t been there in weeks, and… the place is trashed.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I think… maybe we were robbed, but… it looks like Jackson might have been… kidnapped.”
“Casey. That’s ridiculous. Jackson has gone off on some bender and he’ll be home to take care of everything soon. I can’t believe you went there and didn’t tell me. Does Townes know? That apartment in Dallas is expensive, Sweetheart. If you aren’t going to stay in it—”
“Joel!” she yelled, closing her eyes and wishing that Halston Blackhill wasn’t there to see what was happening. “I… you know Jackson and I are close, and we’ve been talking, but he’s been distant. And then… he stopped taking my calls. And then the house… and the bills….”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“The bills are months past due and the house looks like a tornado blew through!” she shouted, holding the receiver in front of her face as she yelled. “Jackson got himself involved with a Mexican drug cartel and I think… I think he’s in trouble. I think they might have kidnapped him or… you know. Worse.”
She swallowed a
s she glanced back up at Hall. This was all very scary and slightly humiliating. Airing dirty laundry and all that.
“You knew this and you never said anything to me? Case, you’ve done some pretty irresponsible things in the past, but this is unforgivable! You knew Jackson was involved with these people and you never said anything? I can’t believe you! He could be anywhere! He could be dead! Did you ever think of that? Were you just too concerned with protecting your little friendship you have going on that you didn’t think about reality and the consequences of your actions? Huh? Just wait until Townes hears this! He’s going to come straight down there and skin you alive!”
She held the phone against her head as she waited for him to finish. There really wasn’t anything left to say. Not only was he the one in charge, but he was kind of right. She probably should have said something.
“God, Casey, okay. Well they haven’t turned off any of the utilities so we can at least get caught up on those payments first thing tomorrow.”
“Yeah, they’re all cut off,” she sighed, closing her eyes suddenly and wishing that she hadn’t just admitted to that.
“So… how are you calling me then? Are you in town?”
“Y-yes,” she quickly replied, frowning up at Hall as he shook his head. He didn’t want her lying, either. “I’m, um, at Tizzy’s.”
“Okay, give me the number so I can at least reach you.”
She gave Hall a desperate look as she furiously pantomimed a pen writing on a piece of paper. He shook his head and tried to grab the phone from her. She turned her whole body and gripped the receiver as tightly as she could. This could get exponentially worse if he got on the phone.
“Case? What’s going on?”
“You’re breaking up!” she grunted, holding Hall’s arm against her body as she pressed the phone against her face as hard as she could. “Southwestern Bell had some lines down from the storm.”
“Just let me talk to him,” Hall grumbled, reaching around her and trying to get the phone. This was ridiculous. Did she really think she could keep the phone away from him?
“Tizzy’s boyfriend is here! Gotta go! Call you tomorrow!” she yelled, slamming the phone down onto the cradle and wrestling out of Hall’s grasp. “Could you not shut up for five minutes!”
“He’s worried about you! He needs to be able to reach you at this number and I need to explain why it’s mine!”
“He’d be even more worried when he spoke to the owner of the Blackhill residence!” she shouted, throwing her hands up into the air. God, didn’t he get it?
“You’re his baby sister, Case. I can imagine that trumps neighborhood rivals.”
“Nothing trumps being on Blackhill land,” she grumbled, glaring at him before she walked towards the door. She paused and shook her head as she looked at the floor. “Besides, didn’t you hear him? He’s so mad at me.”
“He didn’t see that house… I did. He just doesn’t realize how serious it is, that’s all,” he replied, trying to calm his voice. She was doing that sad puppy thing again.
“Oh, it’s serious,” she sighed, rubbing her head. “And it’s my fault I didn’t tell anyone about Jackson earlier.”
“Case,” he sighed, as she rubbed her hand across her eyes and left the room. He was going to give her a minute to compose herself but he suddenly heard the front door slam.
Damn it.
Chapter Three
Case charged down the steps and out into the blackness of the asphalt road leading up to the house. If she kept up a slow jog, she could reach the town in about an hour and a half. She could run about a ten-minute mile, and if she heard or saw a car, she could very effectively hide in the brush. She didn’t know what she thought would happen when she told Joel, but it felt worse than anything she could imagine. Total disappointment.
She and Jackson were close. He did tell her everything and she should have let Joel and Townes know what he was up to. She was responsible, and she’d let all of her brothers down.
“Hey!”
She looked over her shoulder as the dark silhouette of Hall barreled down on her and she let out a short squeal as she picked up her pace. Another person angry with her. That was all she needed at the moment. And if she hadn’t been so tired, she probably could have outrun him.
He easily reached her and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up and turning back for the house. She kicked in the air and whipped her messy ponytail around.
“Stop! I have to leave! You don’t understand!”
“No, I don’t!” he shouted, dropping her as she wriggled down towards the ground. Why was she being so reckless?
She fell to the still sun-warmed asphalt and glared up at him. The lights from the house behind her cast angular shadows all over his face.
“You have to let me go! I have to fix everything!”
“You can fix everything tomorrow,” he stated, holding out his arms and knowing full well that there was nothing she could do. He hadn’t meant for it to come out as condescending as it had.
“Nothing will ever get fixed once word gets out that I stayed here!” she huffed, pushing up to her feet. “You don’t get what it’s like to have siblings! We’re all responsible for one another, and I let everyone down! I didn’t do my part. You don’t know how that feels!”
“No, I don’t!” he yelled, shrugging dramatically. “But I know that a twenty-five-year-old man shouldn’t have his teenaged sister be held responsible for his actions. I know that two grown men shouldn’t yell at their little sister for trying to fix things, and keep the harmony in the family! Damn it, Case, if you… if you were my little sister, I wouldn’t even let you anywhere near this place. What the hell are you doing in Dallas in your own apartment anyway? Can’t you stay on the east coast with the rest of your friends? Doesn’t the school have summer programs for boarders? Or, can’t you go to camp or something?”
“What… how old do you think I am?” she asked, holding out her hands and shaking her head in the darkness. “I’m not just some dumb little girl!”
“I never said you were dumb,” he argued, placing a hand on his hip as he wondered how he’d come to find himself having a heated disagreement with a child on his front lawn in the middle of the night.
“But you think,” she began, a look of clarity spreading across her face. She thought back to his incessant need to protect her without even knowing her. Then her mind wandered to his reaction at first meeting her. “Oh my God! You think I’m a little kid… that’s why you keep calling me kiddo. That’s why you… oh my God!”
“Case…”
“Tell me!” she shouted, pointing at him with a small accusatory finger. “Tell me how old you think I am.”
He took a breath as he stared at the ground, both hands on his hips now, then finally glanced back up at her with, “I don’t know. Fourteen, fifteen?”
“What the hell!” she yelled, stepping forward and smacking his arm as hard as she could. “You really are an asshole!”
“What?” he asked, not able to find any other words as he rubbed his arm. There was the McCann crazy he’d heard so much about. Why on earth was she so angry?
“Next month is my birthday, you moron! I’m turning nineteen! Nineteen!”
He peered down at her, his right arm holding his left shoulder, with absolutely nothing to say. Surely, she couldn’t have already been eighteen. He was certain he’d just seen her skipping through the town a couple of years before behind her worthless brothers. How could he have been so wrong? When did she grow up?
“Oh, shit…” he muttered, looking away. She wasn’t a child… though at times she kind of acted like one. Still, it probably wasn’t the best idea to treat her like one.
“Yeah!” she huffed, throwing her hands up in the air and turning away. No wonder he’d been treating her like that. He thought he was with a little girl. Well, technically, she wasn’t the tallest girl in her class, but she was definitely an adult. She hoped his new discovery w
ould at least lead him to consider her as a peer.
“Just, come inside, please,” he sighed, gesturing at the house behind her. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, which was a thick mess, pointing in all directions from wearing a hat all day and from chasing her around.
She glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to him. He did look slightly disheveled, tan shirt untucked and black hair swept up, spiking in a few places on top of his head. He didn’t seem so scary at the moment. It was the eyes, really. She recognized compassion in those dark eyes.
“Okay,” she sighed, frowning. “But if you murder me in the middle of the night, your housekeeper will hear my screams.”
They began the short jaunt back up the road and onto the path leading to the large porch.
“Helena went home so really it’s just you and me, kiddo.”
“Quit calling me that,” she snapped, pushing open his front door and pausing in the hallway.
He laughed as he followed her in, turning and locking the front door behind him. “After what happened at your place we can’t be too careful,” he stated, raising his brow. He’d never even touched the bolt on the front door before but if a situation ever called for a double lock, this one did.
“Or maybe you’re just trying to lock me in,” she grumbled, trying to conceal a yawn.
“Come upstairs, I’ll show you where you’re staying,” he offered, turning for the long, wooden staircase at the opposite end of the hall from the kitchen.
Glancing once at the large, brown front door, she turned and obediently followed. If the downstairs was semi-impressive, the upstairs was full on overwhelmingly impressive. They passed hand carved wooden doorframes, with doors opened into rooms that rivaled those at Versailles. Windows as tall as the twelve-foot ceilings lined the hallway with drapes sweeping down in silky crimson folds. They finally paused at the second to last doorway, the final door at the end closed. That must have been his room.
“Please,” he insisted, holding his hand in the open doorway as she eyed the door to his room. She finally turned and walked in, quickly catching her breath.
