“Maybe confronting him isn’t the best idea,” I said. “We should call the police.”
“Good idea,” he said. “You stay in the car and call the police. I’ll go and beat the shit out of Dana before they get here. It might be my only chance.”
I’d never seen Carter so upset. He was trembling, and his face was getting red.
“Look,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t even know if Dana is the guy who hurt me. Let’s not rush into this. We need to keep our heads clear.”
“My head is very clear, Sarah. Now, let me deal with this asshole in my own way.”
“You plan to shoot him?”
“No,” he said. “Not unless he provokes me.”
“Of course he’s going to provoke you. He’s a maniac full of testosterone, with mad boxing skills. What do you expect?”
“I expect it’s going to be an interesting chat,” he said, getting out of the car.
As I watched him walk up to the trailer, my body tensed with fear. I prayed he wouldn’t do something he’d regret, or worse, get himself killed. But at the same time, I knew Carter was doing this for me, and it filled my heart with gratitude.
As Carter banged on the trailer door with his fist, I called Detective Bennett and quickly explained the situation. He told me to sit tight; he was sending out a cruiser.
Carter was standing by the trailer door, trying to look into the windows, but all the curtains were drawn.
I finally decided to get out of the car, if for no other reason than to provide back up, in case Carter needed it. He might be pissed at me later for disobeying his request, but he’d get over it.
As I approached the trailer, the door finally swung open, and Bridget peered out at us, dressed in a bathrobe. Her hair was wet, as if she'd just taken a shower. There were bloody smudges on the front of her hands and robe. When she laid eyes on my face, I knew she recognized me.
Carter forced the door open, and we muscled our way inside.
“What the hell,” Bridget yelled at us. “You guys can’t just barge in here like this.”
Carter went to search the place as I looked around. The filthy trailer was littered with dirty dishes, ashtrays, and blood-soaked towels. There was even a sewing kit on the kitchen counter. It appeared as if Bridget had attempted to sew Dana’s gashes up herself. Ouch!
“Where is he?” I demanded. “Where’s Dana?”
“I don’t know,” she said in a whimpering voice.
“He was just here,” I said. “Tell me where he went.”
“Go to hell,” she screamed.
“You were never molested, Bridget. It was all a big scam, wasn’t it?”
She stared at me, nostrils flared. “Get the hell off my property right now, or I'll call the cops.”
“Already done,” I said. “They’re on their way here right now. And once they match your boyfriend’s blood with the blood he left in my apartment, he’s going to jail for a very long time. So you might as well tell me about the lawsuit and why you lied about Bob Owens molesting you.”
Carter came back into the room, looking frustrated. “He’s not here. He must have seen us coming and gone out the back window in the bedroom. The glass is broken.”
Bridget just stood there, barefoot, with wet hair and a bloody robe. She covered her face with her hands and started to cry.
“How could you do that to Bob Owens?” I said to her. “He never hurt you. Just because he kicked you off the soccer team, doesn’t give you the right to ruin his life with bogus allegations.”
She wiped her eyes and looked at me. “It wasn’t my idea, I swear.”
“Then whose idea was it? Kyle Lambert? We know that Kyle was Dana’s trainer in the boxing team. Did Kyle convince you both to help him ruin Bob’s marriage?”
Bridget hung her head, keeping her gaze on her hands. “Yes. Dana said if we followed the plan, we’d get a lot of money.”
“Was the ten grand worth it?” I asked with disgust. “Or did you blow it all on drugs?”
“Dana has a cocaine addiction. The money we got from the settlement was gone in a month.”
“Great,” I said with no lack of sarcasm. “I’m glad the money went to a good cause.”
Bridget shook her head. “None of this is my fault. I didn’t want to do it.”
“If you feel any remorse at all, you'd better help us right now,” I said. “The cops will be here soon. So tell us where Dana went.”
“I don’t know where he went,” she said, breathing heavily, as if she might start hyperventilating. “But he won’t get very far because he’s lost a lot of blood. He refused to go to the hospital, so I tried sewing him up best I could, but it was a disaster. I think he’s going to die if he doesn’t see a doctor soon.”
“Okay,” I said, trying to calm her. “Just take a few breaths and sit down. We’re going to find him, I promise.”
Carter signaled to me with his hand. “I’m going out to have a look around. Maybe he left a bloody trail.”
As Carter exited the trailer, I noticed two police cruisers pulling in to the driveway. Carter spoke with one of the officers, and together they started searching the area. It wasn’t long until they discovered that Dana Clark had been hiding out in the shed right behind the trailer, covered in a blue tarp. He was ghostly pale and could barely walk on his own two feet as Carter escorted him to the ambulance.
I could tell by Carter’s tense expression that he regretted having the chance to punish Dana in his own way, but it was clear to me that Dana was knocking on death’s door as it was. The patch-up job that Bridget attempted looked like something out of a Frankenstein movie – zigzag stitches all bunched up and swollen red. No doubt infection had already set in. I couldn’t imagine it occurred to either one of them to sterilize the sewing needle. I wondered if Dana would survive. But if he did, it would probably be in a jail cell for the next few years at least.
Detective Bennett entered the trailer and showed Bridget his badge. He had a long chat with her that eventually ended with a full confession, and with her throwing her boyfriend and Kyle Lambert under the bus to protect herself. She confirmed that Kyle Lambert and Dana Clark had come up with the scheme to ruin Bob’s reputation, and Dana was able to convince Bridget to help them pull it off. Kyle basically masterminded the plan, promising the two young high school students that they’d make some money.
Bridget kept telling the detective she’d never wanted to do it. She liked Mr. Owens, even if he did kick her off the soccer team. She claimed her boyfriend manipulated her, even forced her to take part.
I don’t think the detective believed she really felt sorry for the part she played in the scam. If she had felt any remorse, she wouldn’t have stayed with Dana for three years after the incident.
As for the attack on me, Bridget claimed to know nothing about it. Dana told her he’d gotten into a fight at a bar. But it didn’t matter how much she denied any knowledge of the attack, because in the end, the proof would be in the blood.
Chapter 23
The next morning, I got a call from Bob Owens. He wanted to talk and asked if I’d meet him somewhere for coffee or lunch. We agreed on the bakery across the street from his house.
I arrived at ten o’clock, and Bob was sitting at a table with coffee mug in hand. He looked up, smiled, and quickly got to his feet.
“Sarah, please let me buy you a coffee.” He joined me at the counter and I accepted his offer.
“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate that.”
Once we sat down at the table together, I noticed Bob looked different. His expression seemed light. His blue eyes seemed brighter, too.
I waited for Bob to speak, because I still didn’t know exactly why he’d asked me to meet him.
He cleared his throat and reached across the table for my hand. “Sarah, I wanted to thank you.”
“For what?” I asked innocently.
“Rebecca called me late last night. She told me that t
he police showed up at her house and arrested Kyle. Apparently, he’s being charged with conspiracy for attempted murder. Kyle is denying any involvement, of course, and he’s hired the best lawyer they can afford. But the best part for me is that Rebecca now understands that I never molested the girl. She believes I’m innocent now.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I said. “I know the past three years have been very difficult. I’m glad I could help make things right.”
“So, what happened with the guy who attacked you?” Bob asked. “Is he in custody?”
I reflexively brought a hand to my lip. The swelling had gone down, but the soreness still lingered. “Oh, Dana Clark is in the hospital. He’d lost a lot of blood from where I stabbed him in the chest with a letter opener. His girlfriend, Bridget, tried to sew him up with one of those cheap sewing kits.”
“Ouch,” Bob said, making a face. “What will happen to him?”
“I imagine he’ll be charged with something, but I think the prosecution is waiting until they know what his recovery chances are.”
Bob nodded thoughtfully and stared into my eyes. “Look, Sarah, I want to apologize for my behavior at dinner last week. I’m very embarrassed at how I handled things. I just assumed you thought I was guilty, and I was angry for your meddling in my private life. But if you hadn’t meddled, then the truth may have never come to light.”
I squeezed his hand. “You have nothing to apologize for. I completely understand.”
Bob didn’t seem to want to let go of my hand. He looked down and smiled with embarrassment. He eventually pulled away and sipped his coffee.
“Does this mean that you and Rebecca might get back together?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. That ship has sailed. I don’t know if I can ever forgive her for abandoning me. I mean, I know that Kyle manipulated the situation, but still. It was ultimately her choice to leave me, and that’s that.” Bob looked into my eyes. “Actually, I was hoping you’d let me take you out to dinner again. Let me make up for last time.”
I smiled sadly. “I appreciate the offer, but I need to be honest. I’m in a relationship with someone. I don’t really know how serious it is, but it wouldn’t be fair to date anyone else until I know for sure.”
Bob nodded slowly. “I’m not surprised. He’s a lucky guy, whoever he is. Maybe you can keep me in mind if things don’t work out with him.”
I couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Sure, I’ll do that.”
He took a deep breath and let it out, then pushed himself up from the table. “I hope I’ll see you around, Sarah.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Me too. And thanks again for the coffee.”
* * *
When I got home, I saw Max’s Jeep parked on my street. I could barely believe my eyes. I rushed up to my apartment and there he was, installing something on the front door.
“What are you doing back so soon?” I threw my arms around him and squeezed him tight. “You weren’t supposed to be back until next week.
“Work can wait,” he said, standing back to look at me. He caressed my lip with a pouty smile. “Poor baby. Look at your face. You're still beautiful, even with all the bruises.”
“You really didn't have to come back. I’m perfectly fine.”
He feigned a hurt expression. “Would you like me to leave?”
I ruffled his wavy brown hair. “No, in fact, I might consider tying you up to my bed so you never leave again.” I gestured to the screwdriver in his hand. “So, what are you up to?”
He laughed while setting the tool on the floor. “I'm installing a security system in your apartment. The next time some idiot decides to break in, well, he ain't getting in.”
I kissed him again. “You really are the best, you know that? But I should probably tell you. I’ve decided to buy a gun.”
Max blinked at me in shock. “What? When did you make this decision?”
“Well, just recently. I guess I need to take my job a little more seriously. I need to be prepared.”
He sighed with resignation. “I suppose Carter is on board with this?”
“Yes. He’s taking me to the shooting range this week.”
“I guess I don’t have to tell you that this is a major game changer. If you’re going to carry a gun, you better feel confident using it.”
“I know. I’ve given it a lot of thought. And the irony isn’t lost on me. I never let Brian play with guns when he was a little kid because I didn’t want to promote violence. And yet, here I am doing just that.”
“I get it, Sarah. Just promise me you won’t go looking for trouble. Guns sometimes give people a false sense of security.”
I blinked my eyes innocently. “Who, me? Looking for trouble? What ever gave you that idea?”
Max pinched my cheek. “Very funny.”
I laughed and hugged him again. He smelled so good, and his arms wrapped around my waist caused a tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach. I realized then just how much I’d missed him.
“When do you have to leave?” I asked.
“Tomorrow. I wish I could stay longer, but, you know how it is.” Max took my hand and led me to the couch. I could tell something was on his mind. Once we were sitting down and facing each other, he sighed with frustration.
“What’s up, Max?” I said, feeling uneasy. “Everything okay?”
“I don’t know.”
I waited for him to continue, but he seemed to be stalling. “Does it have to do with us?” I asked.
When our eyes met, he nodded solemnly. “Look, Sarah, you know how much I care about you, right.”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah, I know. I really care about you, too.”
“Well, how would you feel about moving away from here?”
I felt paralyzed. “Move away? What do you mean?”
“I got a job offer in California. A company called Tech Safe Solutions in San Francisco. They want to hire me as an in-house developer for a new line of security products. The great thing about it, I’ll have a steady paycheck, I won’t have to travel, and I get health insurance. I haven’t had health insurance in years. I actually applied for the job last year, before you and I started seeing each other. They finally got back to me with an amazing offer I just can’t pass up.” Max squeezed my hands in his. “But I want you to come with me.”
A big, fat lump formed in my chest. I knew I’d lose him if I didn’t go to California. And it wasn’t fair to try to convince him to stay.
Max said, “Take some time to decide. The job doesn’t start until the end of the summer. I’m sorry to drop this bomb on you, especially after the crazy shit you’ve just been through. But I really want you to come with me.”
“I’m really happy for you,” I said, trying like hell to keep myself from breaking down. “You deserve this job.”
He tilted his head and regarded me curiously. “So, what are your thoughts?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m a little shocked.” To say the least.
“You’re always complaining about the winters in New England,” he said. “And besides, I’m sure Brian would come out and see us. He’s in Boston, and you hardly see him anyway.”
“What about my job?”
Max’s expression changed. “Well, I’m sure there’s plenty of clients to be had in San Francisco.”
“I’m talking about Carter.”
He paused. “I’m sure he’ll survive without you, Sarah. I mean, I know you two work well together, but you should think about your own happiness.”
I noted that he didn’t offer to decline the job opportunity, so he was basically giving me an ultimatum.
When I didn’t reply to his last comment, he caressed my cheek. “Let’s not talk about this anymore today, okay?”
“Okay.”
When Max leaned in for a kiss, I pressed my lips against his and a rush of emotions swept through my body, some of which confused me.
When he pulled away, he must have sen
sed my lingering hesitation. “Guess what? I’m making you dinner tonight. Anything you want, just name it. Tonight I’m your personal chef.”
“How about macaroni and cheese from a box?” I said, making an effort to lighten the mood.
He laughed. “May I temp you with a slightly better alternative? How about lemon-butter salmon with rice pilaf and steamed veggies?”
I didn’t want to admit that my appetite was gone. How could he act so nonchalant about a decision like this? But I could tell he was happy about his new job, and therefore I wanted to be happy for him. So I forced a smile on my face and said, “Sure. That sounds delicious.”
The END
A Weapon of Choice
Sarah Woods Mystery #9
Copyright © 2014
All rights reserved.
Jennifer L. Jennings
Chapter 1
Sunday, June 22
Sunday mornings are just for me. I sleep in until nine, then drink coffee in my pajamas. Depending on the weather, I might go for a run. On this particular morning I’d decided to forgo the exercise, brew another pot of coffee and lounge on my sofa to watch the Turner Classic Movie Channel.
Alfred Hitchcock movies are among my favorites: Rear Window, North by Northwest, Psycho, Shadow of a Doubt, The Birds, and of course, Dial M for Murder, just to name a few.
I have seen all of these movies many times over the course of my forty-four years. I can still remember the first time I witnessed the infamous shower scene in Psycho.
I was five years old and was supposed to be fast asleep in bed, but I’d gotten up to use the bathroom. Mom and dad were in the TV room, watching their “adult” movie. Naturally, I was curious to see why an “adult” movie was so different from a “kids” movie and I found out that night.
Mom and Dad never saw me crouching behind the sofa, watching the mesmerizing visions on the TV. I held my hands over my mouth, trying not to scream when the murderous knife scene played out. And yet, as horrified as I was, I could not turn my eyes away.
Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 3) Page 22
