by Chrys Fey
Beth glanced over at Donovan. He was shirtless and in basketball shorts. His arm muscles bulged as he swayed his arms back and forth with perfect form. He had an amazingly fit body, and it was hers to enjoy. Smiling, she pushed a little harder, getting a few strides ahead of Donovan.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” He caught up to her and edged a little farther.
She ran with him to their stop sign where she came to a stop and put her hands to her knees to catch her breath. When she looked up at him, panting beside her, she laughed. He tilted his head to her. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Nothing. It’s just that this was one of my relationship goals with—” She stopped when he glared at her. “Before,” she amended.
“So, Craig didn’t like to run?”
“Please, he only ran on a treadmill with a mirror in front of him.”
Donovan shook his head. “I can’t picture you with a guy like that.”
Beth thought about it. “Actually, neither can I, but he weaseled his way in. Somehow.”
He twirled her ponytail around his finger. “I like the part where you kicked his ass right out of your life.”
She smirked. “So do I.” She poked Donovan in the ribs. “Race you home.” And she took off running.
“Cheater!”
Her feet pounded up the driveway and the walkway to the front door. She spun around on the welcome mat as Donovan came up behind her. His arms locked around her waist, and his body pressed into hers. The smell of his sweat teased her nostrils. “You’re sweaty,” she said.
He put his mouth to her throat. “We get sweaty together all the time,” he muttered,
She let him lavish attention on the sensitive spot below her ear. “I have to shower before work.”
“Shower for two?”
“If we take a shower together, we’ll do more than shower.”
Donovan chuckled. “That’s the point.” His mouth trailed down to her breasts.
“If we do that, on top of this run, I’ll be too exhausted to go into work.”
“That’d be a bonus.”
She pushed him back. “Sorry, cowboy. Not happening.” She entered the house and headed for the stairs.
“You sure know how to break my heart.”
Beth shot a look over her shoulder as she started up the stairs. Donovan still stood on the welcome mat, as if he had forgotten how to walk. She blew him a kiss and swayed her hips just a little more on her way to the second floor.
She came back down twenty minutes later in paint-splattered workout clothes. Passing the sliding glass door, she tried not to look, but she couldn’t stop herself. She paused in front of the glass. Her favorite chair was no longer there, and everything appeared normal. No messages.
No knives. No blood.
The fact someone had been on their porch, so close to being inside their home, rattled her. It reminded her of the time, six months before their wedding, when someone had broken into their apartment during a freak lightning storm. The only thing that had gone missing was a picture of Beth and Donovan. It had been on their refrigerator, beneath two magnets. Even after moving, it never showed up. And no prints were found.
Was it possible for a crime that occurred two years ago to be linked to the crime that happened here two days ago? Unlikely, but not impossible.
She hurried into the kitchen where Donovan was pouring milk into a bowl of cereal. “What if the guy who broke into our apartment and took our picture did this?” She pointed toward the porch.
Donovan set down his bowl. “I hadn’t thought of that. If it is the same person, it sucks that nothing was uncovered. We have no leads.”
She let out a breath. “I know.” It had been a good revelation, but it didn’t help them in knowing who that culprit was.
She got down her own bowl and fixed herself cereal. At the kitchen table, she sat across from Donovan. “What are your plans for today with your truck temporarily out of commission?”
“I have a meeting with my sponsor. They’re curious about the truck and the investigation and are looking into a hood latch protector and other ways to prevent tampering.”
“That’s good.” She never wanted anything like this to happen again. Watching Donovan make a successful high jump was one thing. It was exhilarating. She’d cheer just as loud as anyone. But watching his truck fall nose-first was another. She had felt helpless.
“I’m sure my team’s not happy about the repairs.”
“That’s not your fault, though. They should be happy they still have their driver.”
“They are. I got a lot of texts making sure I wasn’t dead or paralyzed.” He smirked. “They sure made it clear they didn’t want another driver. I felt loved.”
Beth laughed. “That’s because my man is the best.” She winked at him.
“Despite the crash, a lot of people are thinking the same thing. Apparently, several companies want to help us advertise. Advertisers mean money. I sure didn’t do it as a stunt, but it seems everyone loved it. Mitch says it’s because no one had ever seen me crash like that. Or crash period. It got me noticed.” He shook his head. “I would think the opposite would work, but who am I to question what gets fans and advertisers hyped?”
She didn’t like that everyone was excited about his crash. It could’ve been worse. It could’ve been deadly. Perhaps the fact it was the highest any truck had ever risen, and he had survived, was what thrilled everyone. What would happen if he landed that jump perfectly? She didn’t want to know, because attempting to go that high again, or even higher, could result in countless injuries.
“Donovan, you better not try to jump that high again.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t.”
Satisfied with his promise, although she knew that didn’t eliminate him from attempting to jump past the world record mark, she left for work. At The Fighting Chance, Beth had several minutes to herself. Corissa wouldn’t be there for another twenty minutes, and since she had run before work, she didn’t have to get a warm-up in before her first class. She sat in the chair behind the front desk, with nothing to do but think. And she could only think about the bloody knife she had found. Who would leave that for her to find? Who would want to scare her?
She considered the possibilities. A bloody knife and a birthday note were personal, as Donovan pointed out. And for it to happen now had to be a sign. She’d had two birthdays since Jackson Storm was arrested, so she had to believe this crime wasn’t connected to him. What had happened recently? Who had she pissed off before her birthday?
One name came to mind. Dave.
Anger simmered inside her, bubbling to the surface until her breathing quickened. Her hand lashed out, and she picked up the phone. Her finger punched in Dave’s phone number as she seethed. The ring tone only aggravated her more.
“Calling to hire me back?” Dave’s voice made her hand clench around the phone.
“In your dreams,” she spat. “I hired Amanda to be my new assistant.”
“Amanda? The girl who can’t even look people in the eye?” He laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Amanda has more skill in self-defense than you ever did.”
“Please. She doesn’t like to touch people. How is she supposed to teach? Does she wear oven mitts?” His laughter grew louder.
Beth ground her teeth. “Let’s just say she doesn’t touch them in places she shouldn’t.”
There was a fleeting moment of silence on the other end.
“You’re lucky all I did was touch Maria.”
Beth’s jaw unhinged. She got to her feet, as if he was in front of her and she could knee him in the groin until his manhood was beyond use. “You’re a sick son-of-a-bitch. You came to my house on Saturday, didn’t you? You were pissed that you got caught sexually assaulting someone, pissed that I fired your scumbag ass, so you slaughtered a pig to leave a bloody knife on my porch. What else did you do to the pig, Dave? You’re a pig, yourself. Did killin
g it get you off? Did writing ‘Happy Birthday’ on a note make you giddy? Did sneaking onto my property give you a rush? If you did it, I promise you you’re going to go down.”
“I didn’t do that, you lunatic. A detective was already here. I have an alibi.”
“I hope it’s a good one,” she hissed.
“I was job hunting all day Saturday. So, I have you to thank for my alibi. If you hadn’t fired me, I would’ve been home all day. Alone. Luckily, I have a paper trail for all the places I went to inquiring about job openings and submitting applications.”
“I hope you didn’t put down The Fighting Chance on your resume, because if potential employers call me, you can bet I’ll tell them you’re a threat to their female clientele and staff. And if I ever hear you’re working at another studio or gym, I will have a one-on-one meeting with your boss. Maria has filed a complaint against you. The police will be investigating, so good luck trying to get another job in this line of work. I’ll make it my personal mission to make sure the only job you ever get is as a pest control worker killing cockroaches, or worse.” She slammed the phone down before he could reply. Needing to blow off some steam, she looked forward to her first class. Too bad Dave wasn’t her assistant anymore; she usually took out her frustrations on him.
****
That evening, Beth came home, showered, and changed into cotton pajamas. After her day, she just wanted to laze on the couch. Her bare feet padded into the kitchen. She had to figure out dinner, though. That was the thing about being a wife; she didn’t always want to cook, or even think about what to have for dinner. She opened the drawer next to the refrigerator and inspected the menus for local takeout. She was debating between Thai food or deli sandwiches when Donovan came home.
“Talking to sponsors and advertisers can be more draining than wrestling with a beast of a truck,” Donovan grumbled as he came into the kitchen.
“I’m drained, too, so you won’t fault me for ordering take out, will you?”
He kissed her temple. “I love take out.”
“Break the tie.” She held up the two menus.
He peered over her shoulder at the options. “Deli subs sound simple. I need simple right now.”
She dropped the Thai menu back into the drawer. “Subs it is.” She called in their usual order, requested delivery, and then shuffled down the driveway to check the mail. Through the tree line, she could see a wisp of smoke stretching toward the sky. Although it appeared close, she knew it could be miles away. The sight of it still filled her with dread.
She paused in front of the mailbox and pulled down the plastic door. Something long and black tumbled out and fell at her feet. She looked down. A scream flew from her lips. A black snake lay on the road, inches from her toes. She hopped back. Chills of disgust rolled through her. She hustled up the driveway, shaking her arms and legs as if she could dispel the morbid image seared into her mind.
Chapter Thirteen
Donovan heard Beth’s scream. He looked out the kitchen window to see her hurrying up the driveway, looking as though she were doing a strange dance. He opened the door.
She waved her arms and jumped from foot to foot. “Gross, gross, gross.”
“What’s wrong?” Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from lifting.
“It’s not funny!” She smacked his arm several times while hopping up and down. “A black snake just fell out of the mailbox.”
He looked toward the mailbox. A black wavy line was still on the road. “Did you kill it?”
“That would entail touching it, so no, I didn’t kill it!”
“Okay.” He rubbed her arm. “I’ll go check it out.”
Beth was afraid of snakes. Although black racers were harmless, that wouldn’t stop her from freaking out over glimpsing the tail of one slithering away in the grass. As he walked down the driveway, he was aware of Beth creeping close behind him. He made sure to keep his laughter from breaking loose.
He stood in front of the mailbox and studied the snake. It wasn’t moving. He bent over to get a closer look. “It’s dead.”
“Why would it go into our mailbox to die? And how could it get in there? It was closed.”
He glanced at her. She was several feet up the driveway, not wanting to get any closer to the serpent. “It didn’t. Someone cut the head off.”
“Ew.”
“And put it in our mailbox.”
“You mean the snake’s body, right?”
He shook his head. Inside their mailbox was the severed snake’s head. “I mean both.”
Beth took two giant steps back. “That’s sick.”
He nodded. “We need to call Thorn.” In their house, he picked up his cell phone.
Thorn answered on the second ring. “Whenever my phone rings, I always expect it to be you or Beth, making my day more complicated than it already is.” He sighed. “What happened?”
“Someone put a dead snake in our mailbox. Its head was severed and included as a little present.”
A hissing sound sounded on the other end. “Did Beth see it?” He also knew about her fear.
“She was the one who opened the mailbox. The damn thing fell out at her feet.”
“Damn it. I’ll be right over.”
Thorn arrived shortly after he ended their call. Investigators took pictures of the snake on the ground and the head inside the mailbox. They even bagged both body parts and swabbed the inside where the snake’s blood had collected.
When an investigator came over to dust it for prints, Beth said, “Just take the mailbox.”
They all looked at her.
“Seriously. I don’t want to ever touch that thing again, so take the whole fucking box.”
After collecting their samples, they pried off the box and put it into a large evidence bag. Then they left. What sort of work they could do with a dead snake, Donovan didn’t know, but he was glad it was gone.
“So…” Thorn stood with the two of them by the front door. “Are we thinking this is related to the knife on the porch?”
“I think it is,” Beth muttered. She sat on a white porch chair. “I’m the one who’s afraid of snakes, which isn’t exactly a secret.” She looked up at them. “You might want to start with Dave. I called him while I was at work and sort of threatened him.”
She looked at Donovan. “I guess I had no right to get mad at you for threatening Craig when I can’t even take my own advice.” She addressed Thorn again. “It didn’t end pretty. He told me I was lucky that all he did was touch Maria, which set me off. I told him I’d make sure he’d never work in my line of business again.”
Thorn let out a deep breath. “I’ll question him, but—” He looked back and forth at the eaves. “Didn’t you get a security system set up with cameras?”
Donovan’s eyes widened. He had already forgotten about the camera. There was one in each corner of the house, facing opposite directions. Surely, one of them had caught the perp’s face. The three of them crowded in front of his laptop as they studied the feed from that day. Donovan rewound from the point that he had stopped the recording. No one had come close to the mailbox all day, and the mail truck had driven right past it.
“It’s a good thing we didn’t have any mail today,” Beth said. “The poor mail woman would’ve had a heart attack.”
Donovan had the same thought. Their mail woman was sweet. He’d never want her to get that sort of rude surprise.
He continued to rewind the feed straight through into the previous night.
“Stop.” Thorn pointed to the screen. “I saw something.”
He played the footage, and they all leaned forward. According to the time, at three o’clock in the morning, a dark vehicle had pulled up to their mailbox. The pitch-black window on the passenger’s side rolled down, and a person’s upper body emerged in the glow from their motion-sensitive lights. The man wore a black ski-mask over his face. He pulled the dead snake from a bag and stuffed it and its he
ad into the opening. He fiddled with it just a little before quickly putting the lid into place. The moment he was done, the car sped off.
Donovan craned his neck, but from that angle, he couldn’t even catch a glimpse of white on the license plate. He input the CD from the other camera, hoping that angle would give them a clear view. It did, except a black square completely covered the license plate.
Thorn cursed. “They’re smart. They probably covered their plate with black paper or duct tape before coming down the street, and then they uncovered it before getting back onto the main road.”
That didn’t make sense to Donovan. “Why would they do that?”
“They could’ve seen the home security van out front when you were having the cameras installed.”
“Which means they’re watching us?” Beth asked.
“Yeah.”
Donovan sat back in his chair and stared at the frozen frame on his laptop. It didn’t reveal anything, but seeing the man put the dead snake in the mailbox and fool with it before leaving got Donovan thinking. The culprit had made sure it would fall out when the door was lowered. He wanted it to fall out for bigger impact. Something coming at you was more frightening than merely seeing something immobile. It was a fear tactic as much as a warning or threat.
Putting a dead animal or serpent on someone’s property jived with what many stalkers had done for decades; they enjoyed it. So, it could be another sick message for Beth. Or not.
A knock at the door made him tense.
“Our food,” Beth said. “I’ll pay for it.” She returned a couple of minutes later with a bag. “Thorn, do you like California clubs?”
“What’s not to like?”
“I’ll split my sandwich with you,” she offered. “I’ve sort of lost my appetite.”
While they ate, Donovan went over everything that had happened recently. While the bloody knife and dead snake seemed to fit, and both appeared to be targeted at Beth, he felt as though he was missing something. He mulled it over as he consumed his sandwich.
