'Til Death (A Rebel Ridge Novel)

by Sharon Sala

  “Do you mind showing them to me?”

  “Not a bit. Come on in. Shut the door behind you when you do. It’s hard to keep heat in the house.”

  Marlow sighed. There was no getting around it. He was going to have to go inside, and, as he’d feared, the place was as big a dump inside as out, and smelled twice as bad. His deputy walked back into the living room as Fagan went to get the guns, and Eddy glared at his boss for making him search through the filth.

  Marlow grinned. Giving orders was the only perk of his job. “I take it Prince is not on the premises?”

  Roger shook his head. “No one here but Fagan and some more dogs.”

  Marlow nodded, curiously eyeing the mounted hunting trophies and a pair of women’s bikini panties hanging from the rack of a twelve-point buck’s head. Then he spotted a picture hanging on the wall and moved closer. It was a picture of Prince holding up a big tom turkey that he’d killed, but it wasn’t the grin on Prince’s face that Marlow was interested in. It was the black leather biker’s jacket he was wearing and the Confederate flag patch on the sleeve.

  First the car charm.

  Then the bike.

  Now the jacket.

  Things were adding up fast against Prince White.

  Fagan came back carrying three guns, all rifles.

  “You don’t have any handguns?” Marlow asked.

  “I don’t care much for ’em,” Fagan said.

  “What about your brother? Does he have any weapons?”

  Fagan thought about lying, but the way he figured it, the more honest he was, the less trouble Prince could get him into.

  “Yeah, he’s got a couple rifles and a pistol.”

  “Can I see them?” Marlow asked.

  Fagan shrugged. “The rifles are on that rack behind you. He usually carries the pistol in his truck.”

  “Does he have a license to carry?”

  Fagan was getting pissed at this line of questioning, as if the White brothers were the only gun-toting people on Rebel Ridge.

  “Dang it, Sheriff, everybody up here carries weapons in their vehicles, and I doubt a single one of them has any license to carry. Why do you keep harpin’ on us?”

  Marlow took that as a slur against his leadership as an officer of the law, but he could hardly contest it. It was pretty much the truth.

  “So where do you think Prince went?”

  Fagan frowned. “I can’t say. He does his thing, I do mine. What’s this all about, anyway?”

  “We have a witness willing to testify to the identity of the man stalking Meg Lewis.”

  Fagan’s belly rolled. “Oh, yeah? Well, that’s good, right? She’s a nice lady. Seems a shame she’s been put through all that.”

  “Look, Fagan, let’s quit talking around the obvious,” Marlow snapped. “Your brother has been identified as the stalker. I’m going to file charges against him, which means there’s going to be a warrant out for his arrest. So if you talk to him anytime soon, tell him it will go better for him if he just comes and turns himself in before this all gets real ugly and something happens that can’t be taken back.”

  Fagan wanted to retaliate but was too afraid he’d be drawn into the arrest, so he opted for surprise.

  “I had no idea, and I’m shocked and sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine why he would do something like that, and I’ll find it hard to believe until I hear it from his own lips.”

  Marlow glared. “Believe this,” he said. “If I find out you’re hiding him, then I’ll arrest you, too, for harboring a criminal. So if you want to stay on the outside of a jail cell, then I expect your cooperation in letting me know if he shows up back here.”

  Fagan glared back. “You’re asking me to turn my own brother in?”

  “No. I’m telling you—unless you want your name added to the arrest warrant. At the moment Mrs. Lewis is an unhappy woman, and she has three very big brothers who are going to be mighty damn upset when they find out who’s been terrorizing their sister. Even though I will warn them to let the law handle things, I can’t control what they might be tempted to do if the danger to their sister is not removed.”

  Fagan felt the blood drain from his face. This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen.

  “If I hear from Prince, I will call you, and if he calls, I will try to talk him into turning himself in. Is that enough to keep you off my ass?”

  “I make no promises other than if I find out you’ve been lying to me, you’re going down, too. Deputy Eddy, we’re done here,” he said, and went out the door with Roger right behind him.

  “How do you think that went?” Eddy asked as they headed back to Boone’s Gap.

  “I’d bet money he’s on the phone with his brother as we speak, which is fine, because I’m filing charges and issuing a warrant for Prince’s arrest as soon as we get back to the office. However, I want to stop at Meg Lewis’s house on the way down and reassure her that we’re well on the way to getting her situation under control.”

  * * *

  Meg had been in her sewing room for the better part of the morning, bonding the layers of her Storm at Sea quilt together with tiny, perfect stitches. The task was mindless and calming, with the radio playing softly in the background. When she had to stop to rethread the needle she noticed it was almost noon. She had planned on driving up to her mom and Jake’s this afternoon, so now was as good a time as any to quit. She stuck the needle into her pincushion and stood up, stretching to get out the kinks from sitting so long.

  The house felt chilly as she moved down the hall, and with good reason. The thermometer registered sixty-eight degrees. She shivered, thinking it must be getting colder outside, because it had been comfortable in the house earlier on. She turned up the fire on the propane heater in the living room and turned on the TV so she could listen to the noon news and weather forecast, and she lit the stove in the kitchen, as well.

  With an eye on the clock she reheated soup, dug a box of crackers out of the pantry and sat down to eat. As she suspected, the weatherman was forecasting a drastic change. An early Arctic cold front was coming down from the north, increasing the possibility of snow at the higher elevations.

  She ate without worry, confident her store of cut wood outside and a nearly full tank of propane would keep her warm. While she was cleaning up the kitchen she heard Honey barking and made a run for the window to make sure her stalker wasn’t back. When she saw the sheriff and his deputy getting out, she opened the door and called Honey down so they could pass. As she did, a strong gust of cold wind whipped through the door and around her legs.

  “Sorry to come unannounced, but I have some news,” Marlow said. “Is it all right if we come inside?”

  “Absolutely. It sure is getting cold,” she said. “Take a seat. Can I get you some coffee?”

  “I’d love one, and I take it black,” Deputy Eddy said.

  “If it’s no trouble, and I’ll take black, as well,” Marlow added.

  “I just made it fresh. I’ll be right back.”

  She returned a couple of minutes later with the coffee and a plate of cookies and set everything on the coffee table in front of them.

  “Help yourselves,” she said, and then sat and waited for them to get settled.

  “I came with good news,” Marlow said as he chased his first cookie with a sip of coffee. “We’ve identified your stalker.”

  Meg’s stomach knotted; she dreaded the revelation that it would be someone she’d thought she could trust.

  “Who is it?”

  “Prince White.”

  She was dumbfounded. “Prince White? Why on earth would...” And then it hit her. She stopped, pressed a finger to her mouth, as if to stifle a gasp, and then let her hand fall to her lap. “Oh, my God.”

  “What?” Marlow asked.

  Just saying the words aloud gave them a power she didn’t want to face. “My ex-husband killed his oldest brother, Wendell.”

  Marlow frowned. Could that actually
be the last piece to this puzzle? “That must have been a long time ago. Why wait ’til now to do something about it? Maybe he’s just got a thing for you,” he said.

  “Feuds have started for less reason and lasted for generations in these hills, and you know it,” she said. “And I can’t see any other reason for this to happen. I’ve been here for years without him so much as looking my way. Something must have happened to trigger this. What did he say when you arrested him?”

  Marlow frowned. “He’s not exactly under arrest yet. And he’s disappeared. But I’m filing charges and issuing an arrest warrant. I wanted you to know, so in case you ran into him somewhere you’d be forewarned.” He took another bite of cookie and glanced up at her again. “Do you ever have any contact with your ex, Bobby Lewis?”

  She frowned. “No. The day my divorce was legal, I set that part of my life aside, and I try not to revisit it any more than I have to.”

  “Is he still in the same prison here in Kentucky?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “Hmm, I wonder...”

  “Wonder what?” she asked.

  Marlow pointed at his deputy. “Roger, go out to the cruiser. Bring me the black notebook out of the console.”

  The deputy grabbed another cookie from the plate as he ran for the door.

  “What are you thinking?” Meg asked.

  “I don’t know...just playing a hunch. What’s Lewis’s full name?”

  “Bobby Ray Lewis,” she said.

  Marlow made a mental note as the deputy came back, bringing a gust of cold air with him. He handed the sheriff the notebook and helped himself to another cookie.

  Marlow scanned a list of names and numbers he had on file, then took out his cell phone and began making calls.

  Meg couldn’t help but be anxious. All these years she’d tried to live down the shame Bobby Lewis had brought to her life, but if the sheriff thought there was a tie to the attacks...

  After being put on hold twice, Marlow finally located the prison and was connected with the warden.

  “Warden Bristol. This is Sheriff Mel Marlow. I’m out of Boone’s Gap, just north of Mount Sterling. I’m calling to inquire about the status of a prisoner incarcerated in your facility. His name is Bobby Ray Lewis. He’s a lifer....Yes, thanks. I’ll hold.”

  He glanced up at Meg. “He’s checking.”

  The warden came back on the line. Meg watched Marlow’s face, and when his eyebrows rose suddenly, she unconsciously clenched her hands into fists.

  “One more question,” Marlow said, still talking to the warden. “Has he had any visitors in the past few months?” A few more seconds passed, and then his eyes narrowed sharply. “I see. Yes, thank you for your help,” he said, and disconnected.

  “What?” Meg asked.

  “Bobby Lewis is dying of lung cancer. When they notified the family a couple of months ago, one of his brothers, Claude, went to visit, and then a few days afterward Lewis had another visitor. Prince White.”

  Meg was shocked. “Why on earth would Bobby want to talk to Prince? And after all these years?”

  “I don’t know,” Marlow said. “Maybe Bobby wants forgiveness for his sins. He’s dying, and people have done stranger things for less reason. I’ll check with Claude and see if Bobby told him anything that would help us figure this out.”

  Meg was struggling to take everything in. “I don’t understand how you knew it was Prince. We had next to no clues...just that little car charm off a key ring, a vague physical description and a description of his coat. How did you figure it out?”

  Marlow hesitated. Fox had asked him not to advertise his presence, but he didn’t have to tell her the name.

  “We had a witness come forward. I don’t know if you’re aware of it or not, but someone has moved into the old Fox place.”

  Meg frowned. “How do we know he wasn’t the stalker?”

  “He only just arrived the night your mom and Jake went home. And he’s too damn big to be your man. Remember when you said the stalker fired his pistol, then your security alarm went off when you opened the door and you two exchanged gunfire? Well, your neighbor heard all that, and a short time later he saw a man running across his place in the dark. And then he heard a dirt bike start up and leave. So when I went up to investigate after leaving your place, I saw the gate was down at the road and went in to check it out. I found him setting up camp in a travel trailer. I knew the minute I saw him he wasn’t your stalker, because like I said, he’s a big man. When I questioned him, he told me what he’d seen, and I explained about your break-in. So the deal is, last night, he heard that bike coming back and went out and confronted the man.”

  Meg hadn’t known anyone was living there and was impressed that a total stranger had acted on her behalf.

  “What happened then?” she asked.

  “He actually recognized the man as Prince White, then scared him off. As soon as the guy accused Prince of harassing you, Prince freaked out, went running back to his bike and rode away. After that the guy called me. Roger and I went up to White’s place this morning, talked to his brother Fagan. Prince is gone. Fagan swears he doesn’t know where he is, but I warned him that if he concealed his whereabouts, I’d include him in the arrest warrant, too.”

  Meg shook her head. “All that was happening, and here I was sleeping peacefully without a clue.”

  “I’d say it’s about time you got some peace back in your life,” Marlow said, then frowned at Roger, who had just taken the last cookie off the plate.

  Roger caught the look and grinned. He considered it his due for having been sent in to search for Prince in that pigsty of a house.

  “About the man who bought the Fox property, is he planning to live there?” Meg asked.

  “I believe he is,” Marlow said, and then stood up before she could ask him anything more. “We need to get back. Thank you for the coffee and cookies. You take care, and I’ll give you a call when we run White down.”

  Meg walked them to the door. “Thank you, Sheriff, and you, too, Roger. You don’t know what a relief it is to at least know my enemy’s face.”

  Marlow grinned, pleased to have given her some good news.

  As soon as they were gone she ran to change into some warmer clothes. She was horrified by all she’d learned and anxious to talk to her mother, but not on the phone. And, if the weather was going to change, she needed to get over there before she got snowed in.

  She called Honey inside. If it was going to get that cold, she didn’t want the dog stranded outside until she got back. She put out food and water for her in the kitchen and gave her a quick scratch behind her ears.

  “You take care of the place while I’m gone, okay?”

  Honey licked Meg’s fingers, then flopped down close to the heating stove and closed her eyes.

  Meg was still smiling as she got in her TrailBlazer and drove away. When she passed the road that led up to the Fox land, she thought of her new neighbor and all of a sudden remembered Marlow saying the man had recognized Prince White. That meant he wasn’t a stranger to the mountain. But who was he? She wished she’d thought to ask.

  * * *

  Dolly was thrilled by Meg’s unexpected arrival and ushered her into the kitchen, where she was making pies for supper. Her two stepsons, Cyrus and Avery, had been unloading firewood in the backyard when Meg arrived, and they came in to greet her. They were big men, like their father. Both were redheaded like Jake had been, although his hair had long since turned white.

  Cyrus gave Meg a quick hug. “Good to see you,” he said.

  Avery followed suit with a wink and a grin. “I see your feet healed up okay.”

  “Yes, thank goodness. Where’s Jake?” Meg asked.

  “I’m right here,” Jake said as he walked up behind her. “It’s good to see you back on your feet, girl.”

  “I have news,” she said.

  Dolly slid the last pie in the oven to bake, then wiped her hands and moved to
ward the kitchen table, where Meg had taken a seat.

  “What happened?” Dolly asked.

  “Sheriff Marlow identified my stalker. It’s Prince White.”

  Dolly gasped. “No!”

  Jake realized Dolly’s reaction was more than just surprise. “What am I missing?” he asked.

  “You may not remember, but Meg’s ex went to prison for killing Prince and Fagan White’s oldest brother, Wendell,” Dolly said.

  Everyone began talking at once.

  “Wait,” Meg said. “There’s more. Sheriff Marlow called the prison. Bobby is dying of cancer. When the prison notified the family, his brother went to visit him, and then just a few days afterward, Prince showed up, too. I don’t know what all that has to do with me, but Prince isn’t around to ask. Sheriff Marlow went up to interrogate him and he’d skipped out.”

  Dolly groaned. “I don’t understand. How on earth did Mel figure all this out?”

  Meg related what Marlow had told her about the man who’d taken up residence on the Fox place.

  Jake frowned. “You say the man recognized Prince?”

  Meg nodded. “That’s what the sheriff said.”

  “Then whoever bought the Fox place isn’t a stranger, or he wouldn’t have known Prince White.”

  “I thought of that, too,” Meg said. “But not before Marlow was gone, so I didn’t get a chance to ask his name.”

  “No matter,” Cyrus said. “You’ll find out soon enough. For now, it’s good to know that sorry-ass White is on the run.”

  “I’d rather he was behind bars, but you’re right,” Meg said.

  Dolly gave Meg’s hand a quick squeeze as she stood. “This is good news, and I’m going to take it.”

  Meg smiled. “I knew this would make your day.”

  “It’s call for a celebration, for sure,” Dolly said. “I’ve got a chicken stewing. I’m making dumplings for supper. If I get it all ready a little early, will you stay and eat with us?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve been missing your cooking and can’t think of anything better.”

  Jake left the women to visit, saying he needed to take care of some things before the snow hit. He penned up his tracking dogs and put fresh straw in their houses while his sons continued to haul up more wood. By the time they were finished, the food was done. They sat down to an early supper, laughing and talking about family and making plans for Thanksgiving, which was only a few weeks away.