by Gray Gardner
She gingerly took the back of his head with both hands and leaned in, pausing only inches from him, his breath warm against her face.
“This will work,” she said, voice barely audible. It sounded like she was saying it more to herself than to him.
He closed his eyes as her breath rushed across his mouth, and her hands ran through his hair, knowing exactly where she was going and thinking it was actually a good idea. Kids got caught in the warehouse all the time doing many questionable things, and this was a common, yet non-punishable offense.
Okay, so he wasn’t a kid, but he didn’t think the police would react any differently in the darkness. Her hands in his hair made his skin prickle. His breath caught in his chest as her lips pressed against his. The twisting in his gut caught him a little by surprise, but he quickly ignored it and recovered. He ran his hands slowly down her back and rested them at her hips, pulling her into him, between his legs, against his growing erection. Well, he also didn’t think he’d like the way she kissed, or how she tasted, or how she felt when she was so close to him. Truthfully? The little troublemaker felt good.
Case wasn’t a prude or anything, but her heart raced as she parted her lips and kissed Hall without holding anything back. His tongue eagerly invaded her mouth and she barely stifled a moan of pleasure. She hoped he couldn’t tell as she pushed up against his chest, his legs apart so she could get even closer. When he touched her back, she kissed deeper, when he held her hips she thought she actually let out a little moan. Why was this so good? It was supposed to be a ruse to throw off the cops. She ran her hands down his neck and stopped at his broad shoulders as his long fingers rested just above her backside. It sent an unwanted thrill through her. This was not good. Not good.
She squeezed his shoulders and gripped his worn t-shirt tightly as a flashlight beam swept over them.
“I thought I heard something back here! You kids go on and get out, it’s dangerous in here!”
Case caught her breath as she pushed back from Hall, who quickly stood up and pulled his hat low over his eyes. No one would understand if they were recognized doing anything together really, but especially in a passionate embrace. Not like he really cared what anyone thought, but Case sure seemed to. All McCanns did. They thought they were so perfect.
“Anyone else back here?” the cop called, shining his light down another aisle of dust covered junk.
Hall grabbed Case’s hand again and pulled her past the bewildered Sheriff’s deputy, out into the bright sunlight, and around the corner to where her bag was still sitting on the curb. The cop’s shouts echoed in the warehouse. They stared at each other for a minute, still feeling the other’s close embrace, hot breaths, and soft mouths.
“I have to go get my car,” Case squeaked, hoping he didn’t notice the high octave of her voice. She turned and grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder.
“Can I… carry that for you?” Hall called, wiping the sweat off his forehead and taking an unsure step forward.
“N-no, thank you,” she replied, waving a hand over her shoulder as she jogged across the street and down Main towards Nixon’s. Her breath came in short spurts, surely from carrying that heavy bag, and she continually swiped her dress down over her hips and thighs in an attempt to chase the memory of his hands away. Her underwear felt damp. Probably sweat. She expected the bile to rise in her throat any minute.
Still vomit free, she nodded her head in understanding as one of Nixon’s guys explained that she’d gotten a lemon and the engine would have to be totally replaced. After commenting that it had been a rental from Bill Gomez, the guy called Bob Nixon out of his office and they selfishly smiled as they assured Case they would handle everything.
“I’ll get this crap wagon back to Honest Bill, don’t you worry about anything, Darlin’. I’ll cut him down to size. No charge.”
“Thanks, Mr. Nixon,” she smiled, turning and walking to the sidewalk. Everyone had enemies and Bob Nixon looked especially happy to call out his. She paused as the midday sun beat down on her light brown hair and bare shoulders. Enemies, like Halston Blackhill. They’d kissed and held each other so close. God, now she could never face him again… could she?
So now what?
Tizzy’s apartment was right there. The bag strap cut into her shoulder. A rat ran out of the unkempt bushes.
Her dirty shoes clomped along the pavement, the occasional car lazily cruising by in the neighborhood where every house looked exactly the same. They were all designed 10 years earlier by Albert Reiner, the town’s only architect. Planned community, he’d called it. She just wished he’d planned a few sidewalks in this community as she shuffled into the ankle high grass growing onto the road every time a teenager whizzed by.
She shuffled through another fire ant pile and quickly kicked off her shoe, leaping around on one foot as she brushed the stinging pests away. Sighing and cursing up at the sky, she continued onto the next block, then the next, then finally hit the barbed wire fence that surrounded the trailer park. She was making progress, though she probably still had about 8 miles to go. The trees that had been creating a nice shady canopy over her head thinned.
Great.
A frown appeared on her face as she found herself wishing that Hall would drive by in that shitty diesel truck. She shook her head as she replayed what it felt like to be so brave and kiss someone… someone nearly nine years older than her… someone who was her sworn enemy.
It was good. And he had kissed her back. Her heart pounded a little faster as she thought about his hand around hers, pulling her through the old cotton warehouse. Then his hands were on her back, gently running down to her hips, where they pulled her closer to him. He smelled like fresh soap, didn’t have coffee breath, and hadn’t shoved his tongue down her throat like the boys at the boarding school down the road from hers.
She rubbed her hand across her brow in frustration. Yep, it was good, but not good enough to try again. She had much bigger things to worry about. Her brothers, her house, not disgracing her family’s name, all of these things were definitely more important. Definitely. His long, sweeping eyelashes were inconsequential. His mouth, taking hers so softly yet firmly, was entirely insignificant.
Sweat rolled down her neck as she huffed along the tar patched, two-lane road. Probably from the heat, not from over thinking. She was about to take a break and seriously consider ditching her bag when she heard a car roll up behind her. Pausing and wishing she had a mirror to glance in, she blew out a hard breath and turned around.
Chapter Five
“And you’re sure you didn’t move anything around?”
Case wrung her hands in front of her and chewed on her lip as she stood in her foyer. After Nelson, the Sherriff’s Deputy, had picked her up on the side of the road and driven her home, he immediately called everyone in. Now her beautiful house was filled with cops from Oakwood and the county, dusting for prints, checking door and window frames, taking flash pictures, making calls on the house phone and handheld radios, basically totally taking over the place.
“Um,” she squeaked, clearing her throat and looking back up at Nelson’s brown eyes and buzz cut. “I… the door was open so I probably touched it just to push it further, and then the phone in the kitchen… and the screen door in the kitchen. Maybe a light switch? But I didn’t touch anything else, I swear.”
“It’s alright, Sweetheart,” Nelson nodded, making a note of where they’d find her fingerprints on his notepad.
“Everyone looks nervous,” she quietly commented as someone with an official looking tackle box brushed by, barking in his radio.
“Nothing to be nervous about,” Nelson reassured her, looking around with a worried face. “Let’s go outside.”
Case followed him to her large front porch, people running up and down the steps to the line of black and white cars and trucks in her circle driveway. A breeze blew through, causing the ceiling fans to turn lazily overhead. She wondered if her family woul
d ever sit out here again with cocktails to watch the horses gallop in the pasture.
“Well, look who’s all grown up,” Sherriff Franks smiled, walking up to the porch and reaching out his hand as he took his Stetson off.
“Sherriff,” Case grinned, firmly shaking his hand, then sighing as she looked back through the tall windows to her dining room. “Anything you can tell me?”
“You were right. Someone’s been in here looking for something, and there isn’t a trace of Jackson. But don’t worry, we’ve got experts coming to help out for the next few days.”
“Experts?” Case asked, frowning as the late afternoon sun glared off of every shiny surface around them. “How many days? Can I stay here?”
“Well, Darlin’, you aren’t really supposed to touch anything.”
“But what about my clothes? I need clothes!” she protested, grabbing a handful of the green cotton dress. She couldn’t wear this awful stuff one second longer than she absolutely had to. Surely, he understood that.
“This is a crime scene now,” he nodded, looking over at Nelson. “Why don’t you go back into town and get something cold to drink. We’ll take care of everything here.”
Case glanced back one last time at her house, then nodded up at the Sherriff. “May I call you in the morning to see if you’ve made any progress?”
“You can call me as much as you’d like,” he winked, placing his hand on her shoulder as they slowly walked towards the steps leading down to the driveway. “Go on back to Tizzy’s. Should I call Joel—”
“No!” she interrupted, turning and staring intensely up at him. She relaxed her face and shook her head. “Sorry, it’s just… he’s busy and told me to handle this.”
“Understood,” Sherriff Franks nodded, swinging his hand forward and giving her a swat to send her on her way. “You be good now.”
“Yes, sir,” she quietly replied, following Nelson down the steps and into his patrol car. The house grew smaller and so did her confidence that she was going to escape this whole situation unscathed. Experts? It had to be the FBI. They would certainly find more than her fingerprints in the house. It would probably come out very soon that she was hanging around with Halston Blackhill. And it wouldn’t be very long before word reached Joel and Townes that she did not have anything under control.
Ugh. She felt sick to her stomach. That lonely, empty feeling crept in again.
“Want me to just take you back to Tizzy’s?” Nelson asked, glancing over at her as the trailer homes began sprouting up on the side of the road.
And risk poisoning from tainted food, or rabies from a family of domesticated rats? No thanks. She shifted in the plush tan seating of the squad car. She didn’t want to hang out with Nelson, either. Halston Blackhill suddenly flashed into her head, his gray blue eyes piercing right through her as he cracked his knuckles.
“Sure, Tizzy’s it is!” she huffed, nodding furiously.
She dragged her black bag up two steps towards Tizzy’s apartment and waved as Nelson pulled away, dust flying up in a storm behind him as he rounded onto Main Street.
“Shit,” Case snapped through her teeth, stomping her foot as she looked around the empty sidewalk. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t stay at home, she wouldn’t stay at Tizzy’s, and Hall… what would they even say to each other if they ever met again? He’d threatened her, she’d kissed him. It was all so confusing.
The Oakwood Inn. That was certainly the best option. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she headed down 1st Street towards the access road on the state highway. She’d just park it in one of their rooms for a few days, get the green light from Franks, and then move back home. No one had to know.
“Hi. Welcome to the Oakwood Inn. Will you be a guest with us overnight or will you stay and enjoy our quaint little town? We are happy to accommodate you for as long as—”
“Chardonnay?” Case interrupted, frowning at the bored sounding front desk attendant who wouldn’t even look up from her Seventeen Magazine.
The girl glanced up and pushed her black hair out of her dark brown, almond eyes. Her cocoa skin glistened as the late afternoon sun beat through the glass wall on the west side of the lobby, showing a magnificent view of Highway 281. Her eyes squinted as she stared in scrutiny at the sweaty short kid wearing a baby doll dress by the entrance.
“Yeah?” she finally replied, sitting back on her tall stool and turning her eyes back to her periodical.
“Uh, it’s me… Case McCann.”
Chardonnay slapped the magazine on the counter and smacked her gum as she leaned over and looked again. She finally raised her brow. “Oh yeah. How’s it going?” she asked like she really didn’t care a bit about how anything was going in Case’s life.
“Um, just… need a room for a couple of days,” Case quietly said, wondering how she was still afraid of Chardonnay Sheridan, one of the prettiest and meanest cheerleaders in the whole town’s history. There were memories of teasing that she’d rather not revisit. So, what was she doing working at the Oakwood Inn?
“Okay. Cable or not?” she asked, pulling out a black leather notebook.
“It doesn’t matter. What… so are you just working here for the summer?” Case asked incredulously. Chardonnay never had to work a day in her life, nor would she ever have to. Her family owned Sheridan Sweets, a chain bakery that sold coffee and pastries all up and down the southern corridor of Texas.
She rolled her eyes and held a pen above the notebook. “It’s like, gross, I know. My parents bought all the hotels where they sold their pastries and are, like, forcing me to work here… for, like, ever.”
“Oh,” Case nodded, trying to smile. It sounded a little weird. She’d imagined Chardonnay basking on the beach at Pepperdine or something, not holed up in Small Town, Texas. “I just thought…”
“What,” she snapped, glaring down at the boarding school nerd who was too good for their town.
“Uh, nothing, just… I… you’re not going to college?”
“I don’t want to,” she smirked, jotting something down in the notebook. “Not all of us are bookish geeks, you know. I’m done with school.”
Case pressed her lips together and nodded. Some things never change… even after graduation.
“Anyway, my parents are total nerds like you, and want me to go to college, too. Whatever! So, they’re making me work here in the hopes, I guess, that I’ll change my mind and decide to go. Gag.”
Case mustered up a little courage and shook her head. “College is fun, you know. It’s not all studying,” she grinned, thinking of her brothers’ stories and how excited she’d been to get up to SMU. Wow, she really felt like she’d lost a little of that enthusiasm. She must have been too worried about Jackson. Shaking her head, she looked back up with a half grin. “You get to live away from home on your parents’ dime, and you don’t have to answer to anybody but yourself.”
She’d been doing that since she was eleven, but Chardonnay was lucky enough to still have both parents. She didn’t seem to appreciate that, though. She rolled her eyes again and fished a key out from the rack under the desk.
“Room 123, Professor,” she fake smiled, turning back to her magazine.
“Thank you,” Case mumbled, grabbing her bag off the floor and heading back outside. This was a normal reception from the kids in town, except for Tizzy. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt as she walked along the breezeway and shoved her key into the lock. Tizzy had been a good friend and she’d just ditched her… but her apartment should be condemned.
The room smelled like stale cigarettes, and the ashtray next to the rabbit ears on top of the television revealed why. It was full of butts. Case didn’t care, though. She fell onto the yellow flowered synthetic bedspread and stared out of the opened curtains into the parking lot. The steady roar of 18-wheeler engines quickly lulled her to sleep.
* * * * *
Her hair tickled her nose. Taking a sleepy breath, she opened her eyes to a side
ways view of the dimly lit parking lot and brushed her hair behind her ear. Was it the middle of the night? She’d gone to sleep in the late afternoon. The wind blew her hair out from behind her ear again. She absently brushed it out of her face again and sat up. Ah, the familiar stench of the Oakwood Inn. The yellow curtains wafted lazily as she rubbed her eyes.
Why was the wind blowing through the room? The closed windows had led to her flipping on the ceiling fan upon first entering the room. She glanced to her right at the clock radio on the bedside table. Big white plastic numbers revealed it was only 10 pm. She glanced to her left and shrieked at the top of her lungs.
An imposing, dark figure stood motionless at the end of her bed. She was paralyzed for about five seconds, then quickly leapt backwards, her head smashing into the fake wood headboard. The figure pounced forward, moving into the light shining from the parking lot outside and revealing a wide chest and bearded face. He looked like he was smiling. Had he seen her from outside and just let himself in through the window?
Case panicked and kicked her foot at his face, connecting with his jaw. He groaned and temporarily halted in his pursuit as she frantically grabbed for the black rotary phone next to the clock radio. Was this really happening? Was a stranger really in her room trying to hurt her?
She suddenly felt hands around her ankles, pulling her towards the foot of the bed. Still holding the phone receiver, she threw her arm across her body and struck the side of his head. As he stumbled backwards, she flipped to her hands and knees and crawled back to the phone.
“Nine,” she huffed, holding back terrified tears as the dial swung around in a slow circle. “One… one…”
The ones were faster but not fast enough. The man grabbed a handful of her lopsided ponytail and yanked her up to her feet as she screamed again. She felt his potbelly taut against his shirt as he pressed against her back. She grabbed behind her head for his face but couldn’t quite reach him.
