“You too.” I disconnected the strange call. I’d have to tell him what I’d learned the next time we spoke. Right now, I needed to make more specialty cider for the festival.
I shuffled into the kitchen, replaying the short conversation in my mind.
The trees were sabotaged. Exactly as I’d suspected, but what did it mean?
I couldn’t promise not to wonder who would do such a thing, but I could let Colton figure it out without me. I hadn’t realized how thoroughly shaken this week had left me until I saw the unknown number on my phone screen. For a moment, I was certain the killer had been watching me somehow, through the windows or maybe from behind the couch. My skin crawled at the thought. As much as I wanted answers, I would definitely take Colton up on his offer. I’d call him to talk out my questions and voice my concerns. He was the perfect man for the job. He was on the same case I was, had access to much more information than me, and he had an outstanding record of bringing in the bad guys. As a surprise bonus, he was also easy to talk to and a pretty good listener.
I set a pair of clean stockpots onto the stove, then filled them with traditional cider and flipped the burners to medium. Adding generous doses of turmeric, ginger, and cinnamon would give the pretty amber liquid a delicious and healthful boost, not to mention fill my home with multiple mouthwatering aromas. I stirred the warming cider with pride and inhaled the enchanted steam as it lifted into the air.
Several minutes later, I turned the burners off and covered the pots to let the new cider flavors cool slowly. I let my mind wander over Colton’s strange phone call. Maybe I’d call him back tomorrow and tell him about Mrs. Cooper’s selfie addiction and her connection to the plastic surgeon in Winchester. While I had him on the line, I’d see what he knew about Farmer Bentley and the new Extra Mobil plant. Maybe Colton knew which properties Farmer Bentley had purchased. Maybe he also thought the local land purchases and oil refinery plant were connected.
I went to brush my teeth while I waited for the ciders to cool. I loaded my toothbrush with paste, feeling satisfied with myself and my plan. Then I went to work erasing the impact of too much soda and dump cake on my teeth.
A low drone outside the window caught my attention and pricked my ears as I rinsed and spat. A distant vehicle? My gut clenched. An ATV? My imagination?
I wiped the corners of my mouth, then hustled into the front room, senses on alert, listening hard for the sound to grow louder.
And it did.
The kittens stirred. They heard it too. I stroked their little heads and shushed them, praying the rider outside tonight wasn’t the same man who’d flattened me on the steps outside the press house, then escaped on a four-wheeler. I held my breath as the growling engine drew nearer, becoming more distinct.
I pressed myself against the front wall and used one finger to peel back the corner of my curtain. Outside, a four-wheeler rolled to a stop and revved its engine. The rider was dressed head to toe in black, exactly like the last man who’d showed up uninvited and on a four-wheeler.
“Oh no,” I whispered, thinking of my night’s research and the conversations I’d had with Farmer Bentley and Hank. I hadn’t listened to my stalker’s warnings, and my bullheadedness had brought the killer to my doorstep.
I swiped my phone to life and pressed redial on my most recent call.
The ATV jerked forward and raced away, turning at the corner of my house and charging along the side only to sweep around the back and reappear at the front window. His headlight sliced a circle through the night, flashing outside each pane of glass as he passed.
“Winnie?” Colton asked, his voice on alert.
“There’s a man outside my house on a four-wheeler,” I said in lieu of hello. “He’s racing around in big loud circles, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Lock the door,” he said. “Try to keep your eye on him without alerting him to your presence, and don’t hang up the phone. I’m on my way.”
I shifted my gaze across the wide expanse of grass outside my window to the little white farmhouse where Granny lived. I didn’t want to stay on the line. I wanted to make a run for her house, to be with her in case this thing, whatever it was, went pear shaped. But I couldn’t do that. This nut was here for me, and I needed to keep her away from him.
“Winnie?” Colton said, the distinct slam of a car door carrying through the phone. “Breathe.”
“Okay.” I watched in horror as the rider pulled a bottle from his pocket and turned it upside down. Piloting the vehicle with one hand, he poured the contents of the container over the grass as he rode.
“Can you still see him?” Colton asked.
“Yeah.” I could see him, I just didn’t understand what he was doing “He’s pouring something on the ground.”
“What?”
My heart clenched painfully as a dozen unthinkable possibilities jockeyed for position in my head. “I don’t know.” And I absolutely didn’t want to find out. “Hurry.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The four-wheeler took off, making big circles again. This time the rider extended one arm at his side, the white bottle gripped in his gloved fist. I ran from room to room, watching from the windows in fear of what might come next.
“He stopped,” I said softly to Colton, voice quavering as I peered through the back door’s ruffled curtain.
The rider tossed the bottle onto the ground and dug into his pocket.
I squinted and stared through the window, begging my eyes to see better in the dark. “I think that was a lighter fluid bottle!”
Sounds of a roaring engine echoed across the phone line. “I’m almost there,” Colton said. “Four minutes out. I’ll radio dispatch to add a fire truck.”
“He’s moving again!” I spun away from the door and bolted through my home, sliding haphazardly over laminate flooring on fuzzy-sock-covered feet.
A tinny voice rose in the background on Colton’s side of the line. A radio? Dispatch, perhaps? A few familiar words and phrases cut through my rattled brain as I raced to keep my eyes on the man outside my home. Trespasser, fire, Smythe Orchard.
The rider stopped several feet from my front porch and revved his engine. Taunting. His dark silhouette was nearly invisible against the backdrop of night. Only the plume of exhaust in the chilly night air and low rumble of his engine assured me he was real.
“What’s happening now?” Colton asked.
“He’s just staring at the front of my house.” I leaned back a few inches and heaved a shuddered breath. “I don’t understand what he’s doing,” I said, but the minute the words escaped my mouth, I knew. He was punishing me.
The rider lifted one arm over his head. I watched with bated breath. What did it mean? Was it a signal to others waiting in the shadows? A flame sprung into existence from his fisted hand.
“Lighter!” I screamed.
The man’s head jerked in the direction of my voice.
I clamped trembling fingers over my mouth. “There was lighter fluid in the bottle, and he’s going to set it on fire.”
“Three minutes,” Colton said, his voice icy and hard. “Cavalry’s on the way.”
Panic rocked painfully in my chest. Adrenaline beat in my veins. “What do I do?”
“Keep your eye on him. Don’t go outside.”
I nearly laughed. “There’s no way I’m going outside.” Unless he lights my house on fire. The invisible vice around my heart tightened further. “Do you think he’ll do it?” I asked, my words coming in pants. Until that moment I’d naively hoped the theatrics were only meant to frighten me.
But what if he was done warning?
“Two minutes,” Colton ground the words out sounding as dangerous and determined as I was fearful and weak.
A gunshot rang out, and I yelped.
“Was that a shotgun?” Colton demanded.
My heart hammered in my throat as I lifted the corner of my curtain for a better look at what was happening in the dark. The ligh
ter’s flame was out. The rider’s profile was visible. His head was turned away.
“What’s happening?” Colton snapped.
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. “Winnie!” he yelled. “Does the rider have a gun?”
“No.” My stinging eyes filled with tears as I followed his gaze to the small figure holding his attention across the field. “It’s Granny,” I whispered.
She stood defiantly before him, outside her home in nothing but her night coat despite the freezing temperatures. Her beloved shotgun, Bessy, in hand. Was she going to shoot him? I bit my lip against the urge to say the words aloud. I shouldn’t have even thought them, but there she was, facing off with a man threatening to burn her land, and I wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t do it.
“Have her hold him there,” Colton said, sounding strangely relieved. “Give me ninety seconds. I can see the orchard’s lane from here.”
“She can’t see me,” I said, reaching for the door’s knob. “Should I go out and tell her?”
“No.” He hesitated. “You’d better stay put. I’m almost there.”
I gripped the knob, wanting to go to her, but not wanting to become a distraction to her. The standoff was bone-chilling. I reminded myself to breathe when my lungs began to burn from a lack of oxygen.
The man flicked his lighter back to life in one hand, gunning his engine with the other.
Granny shot a second round into the air.
“Now what happened?” Colton barked.
A set of fast-approaching headlights bounced in the distance, making their way up the lane in our direction. He was almost here.
Granny turned toward the headlights.
The rider dropped the lighter and grabbed his handlebars, launching the four-wheeler in Granny’s direction.
“No!” I tore open the front door and flew outside as a patch of flames erupted in the grass.
Granny’s scream barely registered before it was silenced by the impact that threw her small frame onto the ground.
“Granny!” I leaped from my porch, catching air and landing hard before scrambling upright once more. I darted through the small patch of flames, already fizzling in the frosted grass.
The ATV spun hard, kicking a line of loose earth and stones behind it as it changed trajectory, rocketing away from Granny and the large truck tearing up our driveway.
I slid onto my knees at her side, arms extended, prepared to help her up and check her wounds. To tell her it was going to be all right. Colton was here and an ambulance was on its way.
Her eyes were closed.
“Granny?” I stroked hair off her pale face and patted her cheeks, but she didn’t move. “Granny!” I pressed my head to her chest, hugging her where she lay. Her heart beat faintly beneath my ear. Her chest rose and fell in small shallow puffs. Bessy lay at her side a few feet away.
I did this to her. The truth was a punch to my gut. I’d brought her attacker here with my incessant questions and determination to learn his identity. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
Colton’s truck thundered to my side and rocked to a hard stop. “Winnie!” He jumped from the cab, feet in motion as they hit the ground.
I sat up, peeling myself away from Granny.
Relief washed over his features as he took me in. Then he caught sight of Granny. “Tell me what happened.” He knelt beside me, immediately examining Granny with steady, practiced hands.
A blast of light washed over us as a bleating fire truck and wailing ambulance bounded up the gravel lane in our direction, illuminating the night.
I turned my eyes to track the four-wheeler humming invisibly in the distance, too far gone to catch now. Little more than a small white dot of a headlight against the horizon.
“I think she hit her head when she fell,” Colton said. “There’s a good-sized flat stone in the grass back here and some blood behind her ear. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” Anger laced the word. I wasn’t hurt, but I should be. Me. Not her. I dragged my tear-blurred gaze back to Colton as he stripped out of his jacket and placed it over Granny’s torso. “Why didn’t you chase the ATV?” I demanded. Why was he here and not out there making an arrest? Making that guy pay? “We could have had him. Now he’s gone.”
Colton leveled me with a fathomless stare. The muscle along his jaw clenched and released.
“Why?” I croaked, shooting a pointed look at the dark, silent mountain where the psycho had escaped.
I spun back on Colton when he didn’t answer, feeling the fires of guilt and revenge burn hot in my belly. “Why did you stop?” I repeated. “Didn’t you see him?”
Colton shook his head once in the negative, arresting blue eyes fixed on mine. “All I saw was you.”
Emergency vehicles filled the space around us. A pair of deputies included.
Colton stood to wave them in our direction.
I pushed onto shaky legs beside him, wiping frantically at falling tears.
He took notice. “It’s not your fault,” he said quietly before the uniformed men and women arrived. “None of this. You got that?” He was wrong, but I didn’t have it in me to argue.
“Why’d she come out here?” I whined, wrapping trembling arms around my middle to keep from falling apart. “Why didn’t she stay in the house? What was she thinking?”
Colton lifted a palm to slow the approaching responders, then curled me against him with the opposite arm. The act unleashed the worst ugly cry I’d had in years, but he spoke confidently to the newcomers over my sobs, filling them in on what had happened, directing them on what to do and where to go. I hid my face until the crowd had fully dispersed.
Colton stepped back, his shirt soaked, when I finished. “She called dispatch before she went outside,” he whispered. “They knew what was going on when I called it in. First responders and my deputies were already en route when she came outside to protect you.”
I processed the possibilities of that. “You got here first.”
Colton gave one sharp dip of his chin.
“Sheriff?” A pair of EMTs arrived beside us with Granny on a gurney.
“How is she?” I asked.
“We’re going to take her in,” the older paramedic said. “She’s going to be all right. There’s an ugly goose egg at the back of her head that’s going to need stitches, and she’s got plenty of mild lacerations and contusions, but nothing broken. We’ll take good care of her.”
I looked at each of their faces, searching for the thing they weren’t saying. “Why won’t she wake up?”
Their gazes swept to Colton.
The older paramedic kept his face neutral when he swung his attention back to me, but I could see it wasn’t easy for him. “We’ll run some tests at the hospital. We’ll know more soon.”
They didn’t know what was wrong with her. Which meant they’d lied to me. How could they be sure Granny would be okay if they didn’t even know why she wouldn’t open her eyes?
I followed them to the ambulance in a dreamlike state because this couldn’t be my reality. I was numb, and I couldn’t take my eyes off Granny’s slack face or motionless body. My ears began to ring, and my vision blurred around the edges as the EMT pressed an IV needle into her arm.
“Does she have any allergies to medications that you’re aware of?” a low warbling voice asked.
“No.”
“Would you like to ride with her?”
I nodded, unable to find my tongue again.
Colton put a hand on my shoulder. I didn’t have to look to know it was him. “I’ll go with her,” he said, then more quietly, he added. “You don’t have to go alone.” He helped me into the ambulance bay when I didn’t respond, and I took a seat on the bench beside the gurney.
Colton sat stoically at my side. Somewhere in my addled mind I realized that between teasing me and accusing me of crimes, Colton Wise had become my friend.
I clutched Granny’s hands in mine as the doors thumped shut. �
�Find the person who did this,” I whispered.
“That’s a promise.”
* * *
When Dot brought me home from the hospital the next morning, an inch of snow had already blanketed the ground. She’d stayed up with me through the night, drinking gallons of terrible cafeteria coffee and begging for Granny to wake up.
She didn’t.
I hugged Dot goodbye and dragged myself inside to feed the kittens.
Funny how everything looked the same, but I felt completely different. There were no signs of the fear I’d felt just hours before, no indication a lunatic had terrorized me, threatened the orchard with fire, or put Granny in the hospital. My stomach tightened with the awful visceral memories, but my living room was bright with sunshine. Two orange kittens snoozed peacefully on the couch. The paradox of my internal and external realities was unsettling. It reminded me of the days following Grampy’s funeral when the world just snapped back into motion as if our lives hadn’t been tossed completely upside down.
Granny will be okay, I reminded myself. The scans didn’t show any irreparable damage. She just had to open her eyes, which the doctors were confident she would do when she was ready. So, why wasn’t she ready? Didn’t she know I was scared and alone out here? Didn’t she know how worried I was that the doctors were wrong, and I’d lose her too?
I cringed at the selfishness and anger in my thoughts. Granny had taught me to be a silver-lining seeker, and I needed to apply that lesson now more than ever. I also needed sleep. I needed to clear my head and start again when I was up to it.
I curled onto the couch with the kittens, scooting them close to my chest where I could feel their purrs reverberating in my heart. What had happened to my small ordinary life? I didn’t want to run from monsters or solve crimes or live in fear. I wanted everything to go back to the way it had been a week ago when Mrs. Cooper was alive, fighting over nonsense with Granny, and I was happily planning my cider shop.
Had it really only been a week?
I closed my eyes and nuzzled against the kittens’ fur, then sent up a fervent prayer for Granny. Whatever else happened, I needed her to come home.
Apple Cider Slaying Page 18
