by Chris Pike
“Yeah.”
“Better be careful with that,” Kurt said. “If you don’t know what you’re doing, you could accidentally kill her.”
“I’ll try it out on the dog first,” Zack shot back. “If the dog dies then I’ll know I’ve used too much.”
“What if someone else comes looking for the dog besides Amanda?”
“That’s his problem, not mine.”
Ten minutes later Zack and Kurt had snuck unnoticed into the thick woodland adjacent to the Chandler house. They watched the guests milling around the backyard drinking and talking, while others were dancing to a record being played on the Victrola.
* * *
Chandler stopped mid-sentence and tracked Amanda as she strolled over to the group. Walking up to them, the men parted like the Red Sea, watching Amanda sail in.
Her transformation was stunning.
She had on a pair of form-fitting jeans, a stylish jacket over a light-colored blouse, which in the low light didn’t matter. When she turned around and picked up Nipper, the last thing on Chandler’s mind was the color of the shirt. All he could think of was that she looked good. Really good, in the sense he wanted her all to himself, right now. Maybe not right here, but someplace where they could be alone, where the lights were low and where soft music played. Like the secluded cove he had found as a kid where winter grass grew and where a cypress tree had grown tall and heavy with foliage sweeping the ground.
Yeah, he’d like to take Amanda there.
He had been so consumed by the betrayal at the hands of his girlfriend and best friend, well, make that former in both cases, that he had been too blind to see the treasure right by his side the entire trip.
A pair of boots increased her height by three inches. Her hair had been brushed smooth, and when she tossed her head, those long locks swept her shoulders. She looked at Chandler coyly and casually flipped a loose end of a scarf tied around her neck.
Chandler got a whiff of perfume, something expensive and inviting. Something he liked.
They both sensed the tension, and Amanda challenged him with her eyes, made smoky with dark eyeliner, her long lashes darkened with mascara. Her lips were inviting, shiny and full, and everything he had dreamed of. She looked him straight in the eyes and teasingly lifted an eyebrow.
Chandler accepted the challenge. He said, “Hold that thought.” A quick step and a pivot later, he asked Luke to get him two wine glasses and to fill it with their dad’s secret stash, the one he thought nobody knew about. “We’ll be over at one of the tables.”
Chandler took her by the elbow, directing her to an empty table situated under the canopy of a pecan tree where a blanket of crunchy leaves blanketed the ground. Nipper trailed obediently behind, carefully dodging pecans and the sharp edges of the hulls that if he stepped on, pinched the tender pads of his paws. Chandler pulled out a chair and motioned for Amanda to take a seat.
“You look really pretty,” Chandler said.
“You don’t look too shabby yourself,” Amanda replied.
Chandler laughed. “That’s what Luke told me. Believe me, I took the world’s fastest bath in the river.”
Luke came rushing over with two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. He set the glasses on the table and presented the bottle. With a mischievous voice he said, “It’s a fine Massolino Barolo. A full-bodied wine, somewhat tempting and spicy, yet at the same time deliciously floral and sweet. It’s a perfect complement to wild game, which is on the menu tonight.”
Chandler leaned back in the chair, rolling his eyes.
Luke poured a small amount in Amanda’s glass. “Taste it please.”
Amanda took a sip. “It’s fine.”
“Excellent,” Luke said. “Anything else I can get you? Perhaps an appetizer for the lady, or maybe you’d—”
“Get lost,” Chandler said.
“Fine.” Luke pretended to be indignant. “Hey, if you need anything, I’ll be over there.” He jerked his head toward the patio.
“Thanks,” Chandler said. “We’re fine for the moment. On second thought, take Nipper and give him something to eat. Is that okay, Amanda?”
“Sure. He can always eat.”
Luke whistled for Nipper to follow him. “Come on, boy. I’ll get ya something good to eat.”
Chapter 25
Like a good dog, Nipper followed Luke until an irresistible odor wafting from one of the tables beckoned him. He sat up and begged, and when he heard his name, Nipper pawed at the air until he was handed a treat. Being a quick learner, Nipper went to another table to try his luck and to quell his ever growling stomach. His hunger hadn’t been satiated since the beginning of the trip, and the alluring aromas of grilled meat, various pastas, crackers, and something that smelled like cheese drove him crazy. His senses were on overdrive, especially his olfactory ability, so when Zack made the first quacking sound, Nipper didn’t hear it.
“Louder,” Kurt whispered.
Zack blew harder into the duck caller, and this time the dog noticed. Nipper backed away from the table and pricked his ears, listening.
“That got his attention,” Kurt said. “Now quieter.”
Zack blew a soft breath into the duck caller.
Nipper cocked his head and apprehensively scanned the dark woods. The sound came again and Nipper’s curiosity captured him. He belly-crawled under the fence and stood on the other side for a few seconds. His nose twitched, taking in the odor of a treat. His nose guided him to a dog biscuit on the ground and he gobbled it.
He heard that strange sound again.
Nipper cocked his ears listening. He lifted his snout and tasted the air. His superior senses alerted him to the fact that two men were close by. One smelled of old sweat and of a long journey along the roads of Texas, a scent Nipper had smelled before, and his mind whirled trying to identify the person. It had been a fleeting odor, but like a person remembering a new sight, this transient smell had remained in the recesses of Nipper’s mind.
Zack whispered, “Let’s move further back.” Hunched over, Zack and Kurt drew further into the darkness. They crouched down and Zack used the duck caller.
One unsure step at a time, Nipper inched closer to the men and to that unknown sound. On the ground, blending into the dry soil and rocks, was another biscuit. He woofed it down.
A few steps later, Nipper came to where the men had been hiding. He nosed the ground, sniffing, and a brief memory flashed in Nipper’s mind. The odor was associated with a man on a bicycle who had passed them the previous day. The man had said something to Amanda, a greeting of some sort. The scent trail of the other man was full of testosterone and alcohol, an alpha male, one who commanded respect.
No. Not respect, something more primal.
Fear.
That odd sound came again and Nipper froze.
The men had moved further into the woodland, hiding in the shadows, and though Nipper’s eyesight was superior to a human’s in the dark, he was unable to locate the men by sight. He let his nose guide him to them.
Unknowing to Nipper, one of the men had circled downwind of him.
The music and laughter from the party became fainter and fainter, and Nipper found himself deep in the woods.
His steps were silent on the sandy trail, and when he found a pile of dog biscuits, hunger overcame caution. He greedily latched onto a biscuit, crunching loudly. He stood over the pile, tail tucked, and tore into another biscuit as if it was a prized kill.
There was that odd sound again, ever so faint, and Nipper raised his eyes, searching. He only heard the whispers of the wind and the beat of a soft song clinging to a breeze. He dug into another dog biscuit, and—
A man threw a burlap sack over Nipper. He yelped and flinched. Strong hands wrapped around him and jerked him off his feet.
He bucked and thrashed, growled and snapped at the musty smelling burlap, but the hold on him was strong and unwavering.
Nipper breathed hard against the scrat
chy burlap sack, held tightly against his snout. And then a strange odor, one of harsh chemicals, burned his nose.
He tried to jerk away from it, to breathe fresh air.
He kicked his legs and pawed and bit until his muscles became lax; until his legs wouldn’t work; until he could no longer fight.
An overwhelming urge to sleep came to Nipper. Still, he fought it, kicking his back legs one last time, but the need to sleep was too great. He closed his eyes and his body went limp.
“Hurry up,” Zack said, holding Nipper. Kurt had taken the burlap sack off Nipper and had tied a rope to his collar. He looped the other end of the rope to a tree.
“Now what?” Kurt asked.
“We wait until the dog wakes up. When he does, we’ll make him bark. Amanda will come, you’ll see.”
* * *
Once Amanda and Chandler were alone, he asked, “Where were we?”
Amanda raised her wine glass. “I’d like to make a toast to a new beginning.”
Chandler raised his glass and clinked it to hers. Each took a sip. “My turn now.” Lifting his glass, he said, “To us and to our new beginning.”
“I like that,” Amanda said.
“You’ve made me see things clearly,” Chandler said.
“How so?”
Chandler set his wine glass on the table. “When I found out about Crystal’s betrayal, I didn’t think I’d ever find anyone I could trust again. Then I saw you that first time in the barn and—”
“I almost grabbed a pitchfork when you startled me.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. When I saw you that first time, I knew you were something special. It took me a long time to know just how special. You saved my life in more ways than one. You saved me from becoming something I didn’t want to become.” Chandler took her hands in his. “I want you to know something else, and this is hard for me to say.” He paused and took another sip of wine. “I want what I’m about to say to be a lifetime of what it means. Amanda, I lo—”
Luke came running up and Chandler gave him a death stare. “Again, Luke?”
“Bad timing again?” Luke asked. There was urgency in his voice. “Sorry about that.”
“What do you want?” Chandler said gruffly.
“It’s Nipper. He ran off and I can’t get him to come to me.”
“What?” Amanda said. “You let him run off? I can’t lose him.”
“I’m sorry,” Luke said. “He was right behind me and the next thing I knew he was gone. I can hear him barking, but he won’t come to me.”
“You’re probably scaring him,” Amanda said. “He doesn’t know you. I’ll go get him. Do you have a flashlight I can use?”
“I’ll come with you,” Chandler said.
Amanda waved him off. “No, that’s okay. Sit here and enjoy the wine. I’ll be back in a moment. Which way did he go?”
“He ran off into the brush at the edge of the property line,” Luke said, handing her a flashlight. “He probably saw a possum and went to chase it. Just follow the barking. He won’t shut up.”
“I’ll be back in a moment,” Amanda said.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Chandler said.
* * *
“Really, Luke?” Chandler was exasperated at his little brother.
“What? What I’d do?”
“For starters you lost Amanda’s dog.”
“It wasn’t on purpose and he’s not that far away. You can hear him barking. The dog just disappeared. He probably found a possum or something.”
“Yeah, well, let’s hope Amanda finds him, or you’ll be on her list and I’m not talking about a Christmas list. Secondly, you have an uncanny ability for bad timing.”
Luke scratched the side of his head. “Uh, sorry about that. I figured I’d better tell you now about the dog instead of in the morning when he could be miles from here.”
“Don’t tell Amanda that in case she doesn’t find the dog.”
“We’ll find the dog,” Luke assured him.
The two brothers talked for a bit, reminiscing about their childhood and about how incredibly tedious life was without electricity. Half a bottle of wine later, Uncle Billy came over, as did Chandler and Luke’s dad, John. They pulled up two chairs and sat down at the table.
John motioned to the bottle of wine. “Where’d ya get that?”
Chandler and Luke exchanged glances.
“No doubt from your private stash,” Uncle Billy said.
“And how’d you know about that?” John asked.
“There aren’t any secrets around here,” Uncle Billy said.
John grunted, turning his attention to his sons. “What are y’all talking about?”
“The fact that Luke has really bad timing.”
“That’s what your mother used to say.” John cracked a smile.
Uncle Billy laughed under his breath. Chandler and Luke exchanged questioning glances until Luke said, “Don’t go there, Dad. We don’t need to know anything else.”
“Where’s Amanda?” John asked.
“She went to go look for Nipper,” Chandler said. He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Come to think of it, she’s been gone a long time. Too long. Shhh, listen.” After a few silent heartbeats he said, “I don’t hear Nipper barking.”
“I don’t hear him either,” Luke said.
“She shouldn’t have been gone this long. Dad, do you think something’s wrong?” Chandler asked.
“Probably not, but let’s fan out and find them. Luke, you go with Chandler. Me and Uncle Billy will check down by the river. Be back here in twenty minutes.”
The ten acres belonging to the Chandler family was a hilly tangled mix of thick cedars and stumpy live oaks, part of the area known as Panther Hollow. The two brothers silently walked the dry creek beds carved out of limestone over eons. The flashlight strobe cast an eerie unnatural light on the land. Luke watched the hard and rocky ground for any sets of glowing eyes. Chandler whistled for Nipper, then stopped to listen. He heard nothing other than the sounds of the night.
“Let’s split up,” Chandler said. “I’ll check the area to the north.”
“Okay,” Luke said. I’ll circle around and go to the back of the property then I’ll head on down to the river. I can’t imagine she’d go this far.”
“Something isn’t right,” Chandler added. “Be careful.”
Intermittently, voices echoed off the canyon walls. At times, the voices were absorbed by the night and the thick canopy as if the woodland had swallowed them into a black hole. Chandler looked behind trees and peered into the opening of a cave. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he continued calling Amanda’s name, stopping to listen for any unnatural sound. He came to a limestone overhang and shined the flashlight below. Amanda could have lost her footing and fallen, knocking herself unconscious.
Torturous minutes passed.
Sweat beaded his forehead and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
He found nothing so he decided to head back to the house.
Minutes later he was met by his dad, Uncle Billy, Luke, and three other men at the entrance to the gate. Nipper had been leashed and Luke had his hand looped through the handle. The men looked as if they were attending a funeral.
“You found Nipper?” Chandler’s gaze darted to the other three men. “You’re the Sassy boys.” Chandler pointed at them individually. “You’re Ralph, and you’re Nick. I met you at the bridge.”
“That’s right,” Ralph said. “This is my other son, Owen.”
“What are you doing here? And where’s Amanda?”
“Chandler,” John said, “there’s been trouble. Ralph and his sons drove by the checkpoint at the head of the neighborhood a little while ago. They found the men shot dead.”
“Dead? All of them?”
“One of them was still breathing and when Ralph found him, the man told him who did it.”
“Who was it? Does this have anything to do with Amanda? Wher
e is she? Is she okay?” Chandler fired off the questions.
“Slow down,” John said. “A man by the name of Kurt Durant—”
Chandler interrupted. “Kurt Durant? Wait a moment. Is he related to Zack Durant?”
“Yes, they’re brothers.”
“Amanda dated Zack in high school,” Chandler said.
“This is starting to make sense,” John said. “Ralph said Kurt slipped into the neighborhood by giving him a bogus story saying he was looking for our house.”
“Our house?” Chandler asked. “Why?”
“He told Ralph a crock of baloney about his parents being on their deathbeds and how they wanted to thank me and Tatiana for something before they died. You had just crossed the bridge. We think he was following you.” John paused. “Your mother told me a man came to the house before the party. He said something about being at the wrong house, and that when she invited him to the party, he said he’d be back. We think it was Kurt.”
“He was real slick,” Ralph said. “I’m sorry, but I fell for it. I told him where you lived.”
“It’s not your fault,” Chandler said. “He told you his real name?”
Ralph confirmed he did.
“What did he look like?”
Ralph gave a rundown on Kurt Durant’s general appearance, approximate height and weight, mentioning the beard, big eyes, and a baby face. “He was riding a bike.”
“I knew it,” Chandler said. “He was the same guy that came riding up behind me and Amanda yesterday. He looked at Amanda in this predator sort of way. This has to do with Amanda, doesn’t it?” His question was met with blank stares. “Where is she?”
Uncle Billy dropped his gaze. The Sassy boys looked to John. Luke cleared his throat and glanced away.
“I’m sorry, son,” John said. He unfolded a piece of paper. “We found this note clipped to Nipper’s collar.” John handed Chandler the note written on a torn piece of a yellowed paper.
In scribbled handwriting, it read: If you want to see Amanda alive again, be at the Tower at noon tomorrow.
It had been signed by Kurt Durant.
