Whispers of the Heart

by Woster, Barbara

  The same with now. She simply didn’t want to be alone in the yard; although in hindsight she probably could have stayed by Kat’s side – as Kenny suggested – as she did when the barn burned down around the poor woman’s ears; however, in her estimation, to do so would have proved far too dangerous, since someone was firing a gun at Kat. To her self-centered way of thinking, it was safer being in a group of angry men trudging about the brush, than next to the intended target.

  Unfortunately, the men began to scatter immediately after reaching the top of the hill, and she was unprepared to dash after them, so she hung nearby the junior state police officer, Mitchell Brown, who seemed content to traipse along the main trail, literally sniffing out clues. She tagged behind him, silent, and unnoticed for the most part, until Mitchell located that single piece of damning evidence. Then he noticed her enough to shout at her to go find the sheriff. She turned quickly without thinking, and ran back in the direction she’d come. She slipped repeatedly on her way down the hill and determined then and there that she wasn’t going to take another step through the brush until she was suitably dressed. Before she could do that, however, she had to find the sheriff, and since she wasn’t going to go gallivanting around the yard, alone, in search of him, she did the next best thing – she started waving her arms and screaming like a banshee.

  She felt pleased that she’d been there to greet the converging hoard, but once they heard the news, they started heading up the hill en masse, leaving her to stand there gawking after them. All but Kenny. He seemed to sense her distress and stayed to talk to her, comfort her.

  And now, he was going to allow her to tag along with him – all because she’d been too cowardly to stay next to her friend’s side during this crisis. She only hoped that once they got out on the range, Kenny would skillfully keep her out of harm’s way. She sighed and pushed open the door to her bedroom, and immediately pulled her soiled sundress over the top of her head, followed quickly by her torn panties. “Damnable hill. I liked these panties,” she sighed, tossing them toward the wastebasket near the dresser.

  As if just realizing that she’d stripped naked with her door still open, she lifted her foot, kicked off her flip-flop, and then kicked the door closed. She was just about to kick off her other flip-flop when the sight of Cal Withers cowering against the wall near the door stopped her in her tracks. She squealed, and would have ran from the room had she been less full of common sense at that moment. Although his intrusion unnerved her, her mind reminded her that she knew him; that he wasn’t a dangerous stranger – and that she was butt naked. Her skin flushed pink and she slowly moved toward the wardrobe.

  Cal chose that moment to raise his head from his knees and spear her with a daunting maniacal glower, “How could I have been so stupid? It’s going to make me pay for my mistake now, and I won’t be able to stop it. You know how I know it’s going to make me pay? Because its voice isn’t shouting at me for making that enormous blunder, that’s how. It’s silent. Oh God, it’s completely silent.”

  Chloe’s gaze widened in alarm when Cal clasped the sides of his head and began to squeeze tight, as if trying to squash the disturbing thoughts from his mind. Then he returned to muttering nonsensically. At least it sounded like nonsense to Chloe, whose greater concern was to get dressed and then go to find help – for her or Cal she had yet to determine.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t know.”

  “Didn’t know what, Cal?” Chloe asked calmly and quietly, as she reached into the armoire to retrieve another sundress from inside.

  He looked at her again, tears glistening in his gaze, but it didn’t appear as if he truly noticed her standing there. “I didn’t know that the gun had fallen from my pocket. Why didn’t it know? It supposedly knows everything. Why didn’t it stop me? Whenever I make a mistake, it always stops me. It could have said, ‘hey moron, pick up the gun!’ or anything, but it didn’t. It let me blunder, and now, oh God, it’s going to make me pay.”

  “Um, Cal, I’m sure that whatever’s happened, everything will be okay,” Chloe said in an attempt to calm his ever-increasing agitation, but Cal wasn’t listening. He just kept muttering in a self-derisive tone.

  “It warned me that I’d been making too many blunders this time around, but I figured it would step up and fix everything. It’s always fixing everything. But now . . . oh God, it’s silent. Usually, when it goes quiet, it’s only for a few minutes, never this long. Never this long! Talk, damn you!” Chloe stopped her movements again, alarm registering on her face, when Cal began slapping at the side of his head. Not the type of slap when an idea forms, but a hard, skull-rattling slap, as if trying to knock the brain out the other side.

  Oh my God, he’s lost it! She thought, and then another thought registered. He said something about a gun. Her heart started thudding hard inside her chest when she realized she was standing naked in the room with Kat’s assailant; that it had been Cal who dropped the gun that the state patrol officer found on the hill earlier. Tears glistened in her own eyes then, as fear raged and her flight response kicked in. She took a deep calming breath and slowly slipped the sundress over her head. When Cal remained unaware, still slapping at his head, she felt less fearful and more confident that she might be able to escape the confines of this room and go get help – for herself, she now realized.

  She sidled along the wall, careful to keep her movements slow and precise, nothing that would draw Cal’s attention back in her direction. Almost there! She encouraged herself, when she rounded the corner.

  Cal chose that moment to look up. She froze.

  Like a scene from a horror movie, Cal’s head turned slowly until he was staring directly at her, only Chloe sensed that Cal was no longer present. The gaze was different now – steady and confident, commanding and cocky. “Going somewhere?” The voice purred, and Chloe felt the hairs on her body stand erect, as if an electric current slid throughout. She shivered, and then made a leap for the doorknob. Cal was far quicker. He stood and blocked the doorway, his gaze boring into her own.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” Chloe asked, knowing she sounded like a character from a B-rated movie.

  “You’ll do nicely as a replacement for Cal,” the voice continued, but it was Cal’s gaze that moved approvingly over her body. Cal took a step toward her and Chloe took a step back. “We’ll do nicely together. My brain, your body. It’ll be fun.” Cal took another step toward her and Chloe took another backward.

  “I like to have fun,” the voice continued speaking, while Cal’s gaze continued raking over her appreciatively. “And as long as we are one, no one will ever stop us having fun. You’ll have whatever man you want and money to burn. All I ask in return is that I call the shots. I tell you who, what, when, where, and how.” Cal grinned, but it wasn’t Cal. Chloe retreated another step.

  “No, thank you. I think I’ll pass,” Chloe said softly, and retreated again. She kept telling herself that if she could just make it to the window before he stopped her, she could scream for help.

  Cal’s grin widened and he cocked his head, looking at her with intrigue. “Did I say the option was yours?” Cal’s hand lashed out and snagged Chloe’s wrist. Chloe’s breathing intensified, but then suddenly, with little warning, she began to hyperventilate. Cal released his grip, and she fell to her knees, desperately trying to draw a complete breath. She glanced up, gaze widening in distress, but all she saw on Cal’s face was pleasure at seeing her writhe.

  “I like to have fun, and you will have fun with me. I say who, what, when, where, and how. Understand?”

  Chloe nodded, but it still wouldn’t allow her to draw breath. Spots were appearing before her eyes and she felt moments away from passing out – and that’s when Cal’s body began convulsing; bone-jarring spasms that knocked him to the ground. The only part of his body not convulsing was one hand, which reached toward her.

  She wanted to move, because she feared what its touch would do to her this time; espec
ially since she’d begun hyperventilating after its first touch. Unfortunately, she barely had strength remaining to kneel there and pray, much less ward off the approaching hand.

  It clasped tightly to her arm, and she felt an electric charge shoot through her body and then settle inside her brain. Her hyperventilation ceased immediately. She blinked rapidly and then scooted back toward the window at the sight of Cal’s twisted body lying just a few feet away. It seemed unfeasible that a body could convulse into such a mangled mess, but that’s exactly what happened. He looked as if he’d just completed a contortionist performance and was unable to resume his normal posture.

  He messed up too much. The voice said – from inside her head. Chloe clamped her hands over her ears, but the voice merely laughed. It’s you and I now. I can hear your thoughts. I am your dreams. Now do as I say.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Chloe stepped onto the porch, and Kenny immediately sensed something was wrong. He raced up the steps to her side, “What is it, Miss Chloe? What’s happened?”

  Tell him about Cal. The voice commanded. I’ll let you do the talking, as long as you don’t try to say something I don’t approve of. A tingle of warning ran along her arms, and Chloe closed her eyes to steady herself. When she opened them again, tears glistened in her gaze.

  “Upstairs,” she murmured. “Go get the sheriff. Please hurry.” She sank to the steps and lowered her face into her hands, sobs wracking her body. That was how the sheriff found her fifteen minutes later.

  “Miss Chloe,” Sheriff Masters said softly, settling on the steps beside her.

  Get a grip so you can pin the blame for everything on Cal. I need to get out of here.

  Chloe sniffed loudly and looked up at the sheriff, but she had a hard time finding her voice. She shook her head and would have started blubbering again, had the sheriff not asked her a question to help focus her mind.

  “Something’s happened to you, Miss Chloe. That much is apparent, but I need you to explain what that something is, or I can’t help. Did someone attack you?”

  Chloe shook her head and then took another deep, unsteady breath. When she was certain she could talk, she began to explain about finding Cal in her room and what he said before he went into convulsions and died. “Apparently, he planned to plant the gun in my room to try to frame me for Kat’s assault,” she said, but her eyes widened at the implication of her own words, words not formed by her but by the entity now residing in her brain. “When he realized that he’d lost the gun in the bushes, he lost it.” She’d emphasized it because she wanted to try to convey to the sheriff that Cal lost more than his marbles, he lost the it inside, controlling his actions. The sheriff didn’t get it, but her host did.

  How true that is, the entity cackled.

  The sheriff sat listening, shaking his head – not in disbelief of her story, but in disbelief that he’d nearly discounted Cal as a suspect – despite his background – all because he’d been found innocent of prior charges. When Chloe stopped talking, the sheriff patted her on the shoulder and then turned to address the deputy that had followed him in from the range.

  “Cancel the helicopter. Tell forensics to check for Cal Wither’s prints specifically on the gun, call off the search, send for the coroner, and then have Jake return with the ambulance to take Miss Chloe to the hospital to get checked out.” The deputy nodded, and immediately got on his radio to begin issuing the given orders. “I want you to sit right here until the ambulance arrives, and – no argument – let the doctor have a look at you and, if need be, give you a sedative to help you sleep for a little while. You’ve been through quite an ordeal in such a short period of time.”

  Chloe nodded, “I don’t think my legs would carry me very far right now anyway.”

  “Completely understood. Could you just tell me which room you occupied?”

  “Up the stairs, second door on the left. It isn’t a pretty sight, Sheriff. I didn’t know convulsions could do that to a person.”

  You talk too much. Be quiet. I took care of Cal.

  Chloe winced, but the sheriff didn’t notice. He simply nodded again and then went inside. When he reached Chloe’s room, he stopped and took in the scene before him with a confused expression. Chloe was right about Cal being deceased, but her account of his final resting position was way off the mark.

  Cal Withers body wasn’t lying twisted on the floor, rather he was on the bed, his pose serene, as if he’d just lie down and died. The sheriff quirked his brow wondering how to reconcile the sight with Chloe’s version that he fell into macabre-twisting convulsions on the ground at her feet. Certainly, she wouldn’t have picked him up and placed him on the bed before going to seek help. Perhaps she’d been so distraught that her mind concocted a version of events to make it seem more dramatic than what had actually transpired. It wouldn’t be the first time someone dramatized things in order to get more attention.

  He looked back down the corridor in the direction of the front door, trying to decide how best to proceed with this inconsistency, when his radio chirped. “Sheriff Masters?”

  He pulled the radio from his belt and depressed the talk button, “This is the sheriff.”

  This is Phil over at the lab. I was already running the fingerprints your deputy scanned from the gun when your deputy called and asked me to run it against a specific guest – Cal Withers.

  “That’s right. What did you find?”

  Cal Withers’s prints were the only ones on both the gun and the bullets. I think you’ve found your shooter, Sheriff.

  The sheriff nodded, “Thank you, Phil. I guess we can close the book on this one.” He pressed the off button and returned the radio to its pouch on his belt. He shook his head again, his lips twisting in curiosity. “Well, I guess it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie, or in this case, dead murderers.”

  “What was that, Sheriff?” His deputy asked, approaching.

  “I was just thinking how not to kick at a hornet’s nest just to see if there is honey in the hive.”

  The deputy nodded, all too familiar with the sheriff’s quirky explanations by now to know that he wasn’t really thinking about bees and honey, “You thinking something isn’t right about this case, but aren’t certain you should go sniffing about after more clues in the event you might get stung? That about sum it up?”

  The sheriff nodded again.

  “That our suspect?”

  “That’s our perpetrator.”

  “Well, I guess we can close the book on this one then, and let all of these guests finally return to the sanity of their lives. They certainly are going to have a tale to tell their friends about this particular vacation. I wonder what his motive was for going after Kat and/or Dalian? Did Miss Chloe say whether he mentioned motive to her? Or which person he was actually after?”

  The sheriff shook his head, his countenance perplexed. “This appears to be one time when we close the book before all of the answers are written down in it. I can’t say as if it’s the most comfortable of conclusions for me. Not knowing all of the details can really irk a body. Leaves an imagination to conjure all sorts of scenarios which may or may not be factual.”

  “At least Kat and Dalian will be safe now. I guess that’s really the most important thing.”

  “Speaking of which, I think I’ll take a ride to the hospital; see how Kat and Dalian are faring. I’m certain that they will be pleased as punch to know they don’t have to stay at the hospital longer than necessary, nor continue looking over their shoulders the rest of their lives.” What he didn’t say was that he had a sudden inexplicable urge to make Chloe Harper remain looking over her shoulder the rest of her life. He couldn’t say what it was, but there was something off about her story, which made the law enforcement side of him want to know what it was. And since it wasn’t likely he’d ever find the answers he sought in this case, he’d just have to keep tabs on her to see if any other cases popped up involving her down the road. If any did, he’d be there
.

  Of course, the logical side of his brain said that he could simply ask her about the discrepancies, but when he reached the front porch and saw her sitting in the ambulance talking to Jake, something in her gaze said that she wouldn’t be forthcoming. She’d been crying and distraught when he’d left her earlier, but now she was cool and composed, and her gaze was anything but troubled when she looked at him.

  Yep, something definitely not right, he thought, and headed to his Jeep. “Maybe I need to take another look into Chloe Harper’s background after I leave the hospital,” he muttered to himself, as the ambulance pulled out ahead of him. “See if anything pops. Damnation! I’m going to kick that hornet’s nest after all.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Dalian stood the moment Sheriff Masters entered the room, “If you’re here, then I’m assuming you have some news for us?”

  The sheriff clasped Dalian’s outstretched hand and then turned to face the bed, “She sleeping?”

  “I was, but not now.” Kat opened her eyes and released a long yawn. “How is the search going, sheriff?”

  “It’s over. Cal Withers’s prints were on the weapon that was dropped at the site...”

  “Wait a minute! Cal Withers left the ranch long before we were shot at.” Dalian’s tone was incredulous.

  “He came back.”

  Dalian’s brow quirked in confusion, “Came back? When?”

  “All we know at this point is, he drove back through the main gate at 11:30 a.m., and then somehow managed to slip onto one of the main trails winding around through the range, before locating a spot from which to take a shot at either you or Kat...”

  “Whoa, if you know who he is, why are you here? Why aren’t you at the sheriff’s office beating answers out of him? I, for one, want to know why he was taking pot shots at Kat and me? Why he tried to burn a barn down around our ears?”