It wasn’t for joy.
Light exploded like a bomb all around us. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw two headlights growing bigger, brighter, and closer with every second. The roar of its engine made the ATV sound like a wind-up toy.
The lights weren’t stopping. I wrenched the handles to the right and we bounded into the shallow ditch that bordered a cornfield. We lucked out, this time. The ditch had obviously been used regularly by other off-road vehicles seeking to avoid the highway. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to branch off anywhere. Worse, a galvanized wire mesh fence ran parallel to the track, making it impossible for us to escape into the cornfield.
The pickup pulled even with us, the passenger side window rolling down. That meant there were at least two of them. I almost didn’t register the significance until the crack of gunshot zinged past my head. I slammed on the brakes and skidded to a near stop.
The bastards had a gun. Handgun, I thought. I didn’t remember seeing the barrel of a shotgun or rifle, thank God. A shotgun, with its wider spray, would have nailed one or more of us, for sure.
The truck barreled ahead, so I took the chance to shoot up the bank, back onto the road, then down into the opposite ditch, hoping to find a way off the road.
Thick hedges bordered the outlying field and were just as impenetrable as the fence. The truck slowed and came up even with us again. I sped up, praying a culvert or other obstacle wouldn’t suddenly materialize in front of us.
Looking across, I found myself staring into Justus’s handsome face. Not so handsome, now—especially since his nose had swollen to the size of an Idaho potato. His teeth were pulled back in a feral grimace, and even as I watched, he swerved the truck, crossing the road as though he was going to plunge the truck into the ditch after us.
Scared the hell out of me.
My only advantage was agility, and I used it. Yelling “hang on!” I braked again, letting the truck shoot ahead.
Don’t say “shoot.”
I popped the ATV back to the road and made as if I were heading for the other ditch. The truck swerved again, trying to cut us off. Whoever was in the passenger seat had already shot at us, so I decided to keep to the left side, if at all possible. I dove back into the ditch on the driver’s side.
They must have figured out what I was doing, because Justus shoved the gun out of his window. He fired, but he was shooting with his right hand angled across his body and driving with his left; it made for an awkward position. Frustration convulsed his features when he missed.
Now, that pissed me off. Just days ago the rat bastard had been panting for Smurf sex while feeling up my calves. I had even stolen two dinner rolls for the asswipe.
I pulled the brake-and-dodge maneuver again. As the truck leaped ahead, I finally spied another road coming up on the left. I slowed even more, trying to make it obvious. Take the turn or not?
Justus raked his gaze back and forth between watching where he was going and trying to keep track of us through the rear window. He was shouting orders, or maybe just screaming. His buddy stuck his head out the window. Adlai. He fired wildly, closing his eyes and turning away as he pulled the trigger. Coward couldn’t even look at us.
I gunned the ATV and passed them, Beth flipping them off as we flashed by. The truck was practically on top of us. I banked hard and made the turn.
Tires squealed, sounding like screams in the night, as Justus tried to make the turn with us. We shot onto the side street, covering ground as the truck wrestled with the turn. The pickup’s back end swung wildly, and I had half a second to hope they’d lose it and roll.
When they didn’t, I took another gamble. Once again, I plunged the ATV off-road, across the opposite corner, angling back to W. We popped back up onto the asphalt, still heading north to Winter. In fact, I could see the town just up ahead.
Behind us, tires screamed in protest again as Justus slammed on the brakes. He would have to turn around or reverse back to W, and that gave us a precious bit of time.
I pushed the ATV as fast as I could, refusing to look at the speedometer. Beth had her head down, hands clenched to the basket, hanging on. Priella had her arms in a vice grip around my middle, head buried between my shoulders. One unforeseen roadkill carcass, one pothole, anything—and we were dead.
We were going so fast that we didn’t approach the town as much as we materialized in the middle of it.
It was the middle of the night, and everything was shut down. Almost everything. Like a homing pigeon, I made for the first bar I saw.
As soon as we slammed to a halt, we all leaped and ran for the door. We burst in, surprising the crap out of the bar folk. Being a week night, there were only a half-dozen farmers and rednecks hanging around, but they grasped the situation pretty quickly.
Three hysterical, sobbing, beat-to-shit looking women.
Bad guys chasing them.
Nuff said.
Epilogue
It’s going to be years before this mess gets cleared up. Maybe it never will. From what I’ve been told, the authorities haven’t even decided which charges will be filed or against whom. My guess is it’s the “against whom” part that is the real sticking point. As far as I can see, the only problem with which charges to file would be having so many to chose from: two murders, three attempted murders, methamphetamine manufacturing and distribution, false imprisonment, and the probable money scams that need to be sorted out. The list goes on and on. In fact, several of the “hens” fled the roost and the police, along with the FBI in some cases, are still trying to gather them all up.
Justus and Adlai were the first to get scooped up. After taking a few moments to “express their opinions” about Justus trying to run three women over with his pickup truck, our barroom buddies held on to the two until the police showed up. In addition to that, Beth and I had to give statements about having seen Justus patrolling the meth camp. We’ll have to testify when he comes to trial. Maggie, Luke, and Ben scattered as soon as the three of us escaped. They were probably the first to run. Maggie and Luke were picked up hours later at a McDonald’s in Eau Claire, where they were trying to catch a Greyhound bound for… well, anywhere. They didn’t much care which direction the bus was heading. Ben still hasn’t been found.
Maggie’s clean now, but she’s also behind bars. Reggie has tried visiting her at the jail, but Maggie refuses. She uses the money Reggie adds to the commissary, though. I’m hoping Maggie will use the services available in most jails for dealing with substance abuse. If I’m honest, I’ve never seen a person who has been court-ordered for treatment make much use of the opportunity. If he or she hasn’t decided on her own to commit to a lifestyle change, it probably isn’t going to happen. Reggie says she won’t give up on her daughter, and I believe her—as long as Reggie stays sober, that is. She’s still coming to meetings and working through the Twelve Steps with Beth, which is a good sign.
Father disappeared too. After sending Justus and Adlai to patrol the road to Winter, while Seth and another Elect member tracked us through the wilderness, Father grabbed as much as he could carry and took off, along with Casper, Dathan, and Mark. Rumor has it Maliah went with them.
Casper and Mark were picked up within a few days. Of course, everyone is claiming they knew nothing about the meth lab or the murders. Although they were in the Seven, Mark and Adlai are both maintaining they weren’t high enough in rank to have been let in on the secret. That might even be true. Father certainly liked to keep his secrets spread out—some knowing this, some knowing that. Casper, as the Elect’s accountant and third highest ranked in the Seven, is pretty much screwed. Eli heard he’s been put on suicide watch.
Moses, of course, was still hospitalized when the others took off, so running was never an option for him. Once the hospital got him stabilized on the appropriate antipsychotics, he was transferred to the jail. Even though it’s obvious that he had his hand in most of the pie, his “diminished capacity” will probably make his prosecution diff
icult. Cozbi visits him as often as visiting hours will allow. She’s hired a lawyer out of Madison for his defense.
Originally, we thought Gabriel had run off with Father and the gang, but he only went as far as Minnesota where he hid out at his sister’s place. After a week of prayer, he returned to Sawyer County and turned himself in to the police. Eli’s gone to visit him at the jail twice. He told Eli that he needs to plead guilty to atone for his sins. The DA, although giddy with the possibility of a confession on the meth charge, had some of that joy tempered when Gabriel refused to cooperate in the case against Father and the others. Aside from himself and Enoch, Gabriel says he won’t implicate anyone. He’s told Eli that while he’s willing to pay for his sins, the others have to be guided by The Spirit on their own. He’s driving his public defender batty. Eli is trying to convince Gabriel to cooperate with his attorney, but so far Gabriel is staying adamant. One of the few things he has been willing to disclose was that Father had a “bug out” plan already in place. Gabriel thought Father was just referring to being prepared for the End Times, but apparently their fearless leader had been busily salting monies into accounts in the Cayman Islands for years and had a fake identity set up and ready to go.
Eli is certain the authorities will catch up with Father, but I’m not so sure. Even if they did, my guess is they wouldn’t be able to charge him with either Enoch’s or Rachel’s murder. Baara’s confession to me only said she “knew what Father wanted.” That doesn’t mean he gave her the order. He could even maintain that sending the Seven out to look for Enoch meant he wasn’t aware of what Baara had done. He could probably get charged with aiding after the fact, or whatever it’s called. Given Baara’s own issues with diminished capacity, Father would probably spin it to look like he was just trying to protect poor Baara.
We still don’t know who killed Rachel, either. I suspect it was “The Flame” again, but there’s no way of knowing for certain now. The police found Baara in the Temple, next to Rachel. Baara had used one of the hunting rifles, a particularly difficult way to kill oneself, but she managed. Most have interpreted her suicide as an admission of guilt, but I don’t think so. I don’t think Baara felt remorse for what she had done. I believe she killed herself when she realized that Father had left her behind. His own little “Daughter of Zion.”
I’ve let Jala and Priella stay in my apartment. It’s only a one-bedroom, so I cleared out and I’m staying at Eli’s. Siggy is in kitty heaven exploring Eli’s old farmhouse.
I’ve told both women to take their time and figure out what they want to do with their lives. Jala picked up as a cook at a local restaurant and they love her there. Priella is working part-time as a check-out clerk at the Aldi’s in town. Between the two, they’re able to manage the rent and utilities, so I don’t have to worry about that. If they start to struggle with the bills, I’m pretty sure Beth and Jimmy would help keep them afloat. Both women are seeing Tracy for counseling.
I’ve thought about it. Counseling, I mean. I could go back to the woman I had seen for counseling after my last escapade, but there’s a certain level of embarrassment at having to admit that I allowed myself to get dragged into another horrible situation. I’m not quite ready to admit what that might say about me. Instead, when I’m feeling anxious, I go down to the cellar and stare at the koi swimming around the water tank. Siggy comes too. We both sit on the deep freezer and watch them. It’s quiet and I’m able to breathe down there. At first, my thoughts ricochet as randomly as the orange-and-black creatures writhing around in the bottom of the dark tank. If I stare long enough, though, the movements shift from chaotic to a gentle, gliding ballet, and so do my thoughts. Siggy just wants to eat one.
I used Jala and Priella as an excuse to move in with Eli, but then he knew that I was doing that, and I knew that he knew I was doing that, so it’s all good. Every couple starts their relationship out with a shared delusion, don’t they? It feels right. We’ve had one or two “don’t squeeze the toothpaste from the middle” issues, and one almost-fight over the need to refill the toilet paper roll when it gets used up, but for the most part, we’re adjusting very well.
One thing, though. One fear—if I can even call it that; maybe it’s just a doubt or suspicion—but it crops up every so often and has sent me to my cellar meditation spot more often than once.
I think Eli is up to something.
He’s been curiously hesitant about his plans to finish up school. I admit, now that I know him better, I have a hard time seeing him as a lawyer too, but what that means for his future plans, I haven’t been able to figure out. He’s quite slippery on the subject. Even more ominous, he and Beth seem to have established some secret squirrel-ESP telepathy whenever the subject is brought up.
It makes me wonder.
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ALSO BY DONNA WHITE GLASER
THE LETTY WHITTAKER 12 STEP MYSTERIES:
THE ENEMY WE KNOW
THE ONE WE LOVE
THE SECRETS WE KEEP
THE BLOOD WE SPILL
COMING SOON: THE LIES WE TELL
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ORDER OF RANK AND STANDING CHART
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Epilogue
CHART
THE BLOOD WE SPILL
By Donna White Glaser
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2014 Donna White Glaser.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’
s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events of persons, living or dead, is entirely accidental.
All rights reserved.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Credits:
Cover design by Cormar Covers
Editing by Linda of Victory Editing
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Blood We Spill: Suspense with a Dash of Humor (A Letty Whittaker 12 Step Mystery Book 4) Page 31
