by D. F. Hart
***
“The level of preservation here is astonishing,” Grant told Stella as they walked back to his car two hours later. “It’s almost like stepping back in time. I’m really impressed.”
“It’s among the most complete in this entire region of the country, with over five hundred thousand artifacts recovered,” she confirmed, beaming proudly. “Took a lot of years to accomplish, but it’s been well worth it.”
“And the results show it,” Grant told her sincerely. “I just hope I can do it justice in my article.”
“I have a feeling you’ll do just fine.”
He pulled into her driveway, opened her door, and escorted her up the steps.
“Thanks again for your time today, Ms. Williams,” Grant said, extending his hand to her.
“How many times do I have to tell you, young man? Please call me Stella!”
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am. Well, I’d better be going. I have a lot of notes to organize. I’ll send you a copy of the magazine when the article’s published, okay?”
“I’m looking forward to it,” she replied, shaking his hand firmly. “Safe travels, Grant. Talk to you soon.”
She waved from the porch as he pulled out of her driveway and drove out of sight.
***
“Penny for your thoughts,” Rick murmured as they worked together in the kitchen to make dinner.
“Oh, this and that,” Faith replied.
“Whatever,” he told her with a lilting tease in his voice. “Your eyes got as big as saucers when Lizzie asked Trish about wedding plans the other night.”
Did they? Huh. Guess I’m not as stealthy as I thought.
“Is that so?” Faith tried her best to sound nonchalant about it, and Rick grinned.
“Come on, Faith. Talk to me.”
“I... I don’t want things to change,” she stammered. “I love our life together the way it is, and...”
“And you’re afraid getting married will shift it somehow. Is that it?”
“Yes,” she admitted in a small voice.
“Only if we let it,” Rick reassured her as he took her hand. “We’re solid. Rock solid. Know why? Because we keep the lines of communication open and we don’t take each other for granted. We’re still going to have our ups and downs, Faith, whether we’re legally married or not. But what matters is that we stick together, and work through whatever comes our way, side-by-side.”
“I love you,” she murmured.
“I know you do,” he answered, “and I love you, too. You have my heart, and you always will. As far as I’m concerned, we’re already married. But I’ll gladly officially marry you anywhere, anytime. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Rick... what if I’m never ready to take that step?”
“Then things will still be wonderful, Faith. You’re in my life, so I’m as happy as I can be.”
***
From down the block, he watched Grant leave.
Give it about ten minutes, then do it.
He waited patiently, one eye on the clock inside the car. When he’d determined that Grant was just far enough away, he pulled up into Stella Williams’ driveway, walked briskly to her front door, and knocked.
“Well, hello!” she said.
“I had a couple of questions about your fundraiser coming up. May I come in?”
“Certainly! Right this way. Not often I get two handsome visitors in one day. I must be on a lucky streak,” she quipped, then cackled with amusement.
She stepped aside and let him enter, then turned her back to him and shut the front door. As she did, she heard a short beeping sound. Curious, she turned around to speak, and her blue eyes went wide with alarm.
He hadn’t moved further into the premises, as she’d expected. Quite the opposite; he was indecently close, towering over her, and the expression he wore sent ice picks of fear stabbing into her soul.
“Stella,” he soothed softly. “It is all right that I call you Stella, isn’t it?”
Trembling, she nodded, taking a step backward toward her front door.
“I’m sorry to have to involve you like this, Stella,” he continued to speak softly to her as he suddenly gripped her by the throat with both hands and began to squeeze.
“You remind me of someone that was kind to me once. But that’s not enough. It’s nothing personal, I promise. Just part of the game.”
He lifted her off the ground easily, as a child might pluck a wildflower, and held her aloft at arm’s length so he could stare into those panicked, bulging blue eyes of hers as she fought to breathe.
She clawed at his arms to no avail, and tears streamed down her cheeks, dampening the hands clamped around her slender throat. Still he did not relent. She tried to kick him, but missed, and he responded with a chuckle and increased pressure to further cut off her airflow.
It was a long three minutes to wait but finally she stopped struggling. By the end of the fifth minute she’d stopped moving at all.
But he knew he couldn’t let go.
Not yet.
Only when the alarm on his watch sounded again to confirm ten minutes had passed did he relax his grip and lay Stella Williams down on the beautifully restored hardwood floor of her own front hallway. He sighed deeply, rubbing his forearms to relieve the cramping that had crept into his muscles, then reached for her carotid and checked for a pulse.
Finding none, he whistled a tune under his breath as he let himself out her front door, shutting it firmly behind him. Stella’s neighbor, Ms. Allen, had just arrived home and was exiting her vehicle. She waved to him. He smiled, waved back, climbed into his gray rental car, and drove away.
Two rounds played. On to the next.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Grant Forrester was blissfully unaware of anything that had unfolded after he’d left Stella’s house. He headed north, opting to stop for the night in Abilene.
He used the break wisely, grabbing takeout from a drive-through then settling into his hotel room. He arranged his notepad so that he could play back his audio interview of Stella and take notes while having dinner.
She was a lot of fun to talk to, he acknowledged as he smiled. I may have to travel back there someday and say hello.
At the three-hour mark, he paused the audio, stretched, and stood to move around a bit, then retook his seat and kept going. By eleven p.m. he’d capped his pen and smiled in triumph.
“This is gonna make a great read,” he beamed.
Before he went to bed, he crafted an email to the point of contact he needed to speak with about Fort Phantom Hill. With a little luck I can be onsite sometime tomorrow with someone who really knows the history.
Grant slept soundly, rose promptly at nine a.m., and was delighted to note that Benji Patterson had already responded to his inquiry.
I can tell you all about Phantom Hill - and Fort Griffin too, Benji revealed. My family was one of the first settlers in this area, so I know this stuff like the back of my hand. You want the real stories, I’m your man.
Two emails later, the men had set a meeting time of one p.m. at the entrance to Fort Phantom Hill.
Grant Forrester showered and dressed, packed, and checked out of the hotel with a spring in his step.
***
“I’m telling you, he was quite the looker,” Nosy Rosie chirped to Elouise, Mabel and Violet over their gin rummy game at lunchtime. “And he spent all day at her house!”
“You can’t be serious,” Elouise frowned, peering at Rosie over her reading glasses. “Stella wouldn’t do anything like that.”
“I’m just saying, El. He was there when I left in the morning, and he was just going back out to his car when I got home around six o’clock.”
“Well if what you think happened is true, I say good for her,” Violet announced with a sly grin. “Just because she’s seventy-two doesn’t mean she can’t have any fun.”
Rosie gasped. “But...but... he didn’t look more than twenty-five!”
&
nbsp; “Why don’t you just ask her about it, instead of speculating?” Elouise suggested, her voice dripping with disdain. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation that doesn’t involve smut.”
Mabel drew a new card from the center pile and busied herself arranging it in with the ones already in her hands. “The whole thing sounds scandalous, if you ask me,” she sniffed in disapproval. “Oh, and by the way, girls – gin!” and laid down all her cards triumphantly.
***
Grant pulled into the tiny visitor parking lot at Fort Phantom Hill and glanced at his watch. Twelve-fifty-seven.
He stepped out of his car and looked around. Leaning against a wall near the main entrance was a tall, slightly stooped man with salt-and-pepper hair and a menacing look.
Okay, Grant thought. Definitely not the friendliest face I’ve ever seen....
“You Grant?” the man barked, and Grant nodded.
“You’re punctual, I’ll give ya that. Come on, let’s get going. Lots to cover here,” Benji stated firmly, then turned and began to walk away.
Grant raced to catch up and as he reached Benji’s side, his cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen as Benji frowned.
“It’s my mom. I need to take this. I’m so sorry, excuse me one moment,” Grant stammered as Benji glared.
“Hello?”
“Oh Grant,” Bernice said his name on a sob.
A chill ran down Grant’s spine, and he was totally oblivious to Benji’s grouchy expression subtly shifting to one of concern.
“Mom? What’s wrong?”
“I need you to come home, honey. Something’s... something’s happened to your dad.”
“I’m on my way, Mom,” he answered immediately, risking a glance at Benji.
“Family’s more important,” the older man said gruffly. “Go. We’ll do this another time.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Grant called out over his shoulder as he sprinted back to his car.
He climbed in, revved the engine, and hit the button on his steering wheel to convert the call to hands-free.
“Mom, I’m on my way to you now,” he repeated to her as he clicked his seat belt into place and put the transmission in reverse. “I’m about two hours from you. Now fill me in – what’s going on?”
***
He frowned in frustration and pulled into the nearest parking lot once he’d heard the in-car conversation between Grant and Bernice.
Dammit. I hate waiting, he grumbled to himself. I don’t want to pause the game. I’ve waited for three years for an opportunity to take Grant Forrester down a few pegs.
But it couldn’t be helped. This delay was unavoidable. Can’t frame him if he’s not around to frame, now can you? Calm down. Think this through. This just gives you more time to plan. Be grateful – and use this opportunity to your advantage.
He closed his eyes, counting to one hundred to re-center himself, then shifted into drive, pulled back out onto the narrow two-lane road, and began the leisurely drive home.
***
At two o’clock Jandy came bounding into the kitchen with even more exuberance than usual.
“Good meeting with your builder, I presume,” Bella observed dryly.
“The best! His crew starts work on Monday, and he thinks he might be able to get it all done and ready for move in before May first! Isn’t that awesome?”
“That’s great!” Bella agreed.
“And what’s your news?” Jandy said. “I can tell by the look on your face that something’s up.”
“As a matter of fact, there is,” Bella beamed. “I just got an email letting me know I’ve been accepted into the Masters’ program at the University of Texas in Arlington. I start classes in January.”
“Fabulous!” Jandy hugged her sister-in-law tightly. “You know what I think? I think the guys need to take us out to dinner to celebrate it all.”
“You know what? Me too,” Bella decided. “I’m gonna call Kellie and see if she can watch Charlie for me.”
***
It was almost three-thirty before Grant pulled into the visitor parking lot outside the emergency room in Jacksboro, Texas. He leapt from his car and sprinted to the main entrance.
“Bill Forrester,” he panted, leaning on the intake counter to catch his breath. “I’m his son. What’s his status? Can I see him?”
“Grant,” came a small, weak voice from his left.
He pivoted slowly and saw his mother, deep lines of grief already etched into her thin, pale face, arms wound tightly around herself.
He took one hesitant step forward, then another.
“Mom,” Grant started to say as he moved closer, his voice breaking. “Where.... where’s Dad?”
“I’m so sorry, honey.... he’s gone.”
Her only child rushed forward to catch her as Bernice Forrester suddenly swayed, then collapsed.
***
By the time Rosie left Mabel’s house at five p.m. her curiosity about Stella’s handsome young visitor was at a fever pitch, thanks in large part to her very active imagination.
Just ask her about it, she remembered Elouise saying, and nodded to herself.
She parked in her own driveway, then shuffled down to the sidewalk and over to Stella’s driveway, plotting out how best to ask the question as she walked.
Rosie took her time climbing the three steps up to the porch, and rang the doorbell, then waited patiently with what she hoped was a pleasant expression on her face.
But no one came to the door.
“I know there’s nothing wrong with her hearing,” Rosie grumbled under her breath, and rang the bell again.
Nothing happened.
After the third press of the button with no result, she knocked loudly. When no one acknowledged her presence, she stepped over to the picture window, cupped her hands around her eyes, and pressed her face to the glass to peek inside.
At first, she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, and felt a little foolish. Then she glanced downward, and she shrieked in fright. Through Stella’s lace curtains Rosie could see a pair of feet, like someone was lying on the floor.
“Stella! Stella!” she hollered, now banging on the door as hard as she could. “Are you all right? Talk to me!”
After several moments she pivoted and moved down the steps as quickly as her arthritic joints allowed, cutting straight across the lush grass to her house to go call 9-1-1.
***
The ambulance crew and two policemen arrived within ten minutes of Rosie Allen’s frantic call. After notifying dispatch of the situation, the officers broke the front door to gain entry. But the sight greeting them made it clear that the homeowner was beyond their aid, and the coroner’s office was immediately summoned to the scene.
The body was photographed where it had been found, and the surroundings carefully recorded as well, before the senior officer on scene allowed anyone to further examine or touch Stella. Once permission was granted to proceed, the coroner solemnly stepped forward to capture some preliminary data. The liver temperature reading he took indicated she’d been dead for roughly twenty-four hours. He also noticed the deep bruises around her neck, and dutifully pointed them out to Detective Miller, who had just shown up.
As Stella Williams’ body was being loaded for transport to the morgue, a small crowd of neighbors was forming on the farthest corner of her front lawn, chattering nervously amongst themselves about what might have happened to her.
To one side, Mabel, Violet and Elouise were gathered around a sniffling Rosie, patting her back gently and murmuring words of comfort.
Within an hour of calling for help, Rosie was being escorted to the police station by Detective Miller to give a more detailed statement about the young man she’d seen at Stella’s house the day before.
Meanwhile, the gorgeous, historic home belonging to Stella Williams was now adorned with yellow crime scene tape stretching back and forth, not only across the front door, but between the front porch pillars to
block access up the stairs.
***
With Charlie safely under Kellie’s watchful care, the two couples made their way to the steakhouse for a meal. The waiter brought their drinks and took their appetizer order, giving them a moment to decide on their main courses.
“Congratulations to my wonderful sister-in-law, who I know will absolutely crush it in the Masters’ program,” Tony said, holding his scotch and soda high. “And to good news and hopefully a quick build on our new place.”
“I second that,” Nathan said, and grinned at Tony, Jandy and Bella. “But, you know, no rush.”
***
“It’s not fair, really,” Donny observed as they set their bags down inside their hotel room in Kingsport, Virginia. “We only get one more day together.”
He turned to Lizzie with a small smile. “I’ve gotten spoiled, being able to spend so much time with you on this trip.”
She sighed. “Me too. But we know all this will be worth it. I mean, the Academy’s gonna be pretty hard-core, but it’s fast-paced. I bet the next five months flies by. Besides, you’ve got your clients and stuff. And isn’t ski season already going on? You have more newbies to teach.”
He nodded. “That’s true. Plenty to keep me busy for a while.”
Among other things, he added in his head, and fought not to smile and give himself away.
To keep from spilling his secret plans, he switched topics. “I’m thinking Italian for dinner. You in?”
Lizzie smiled at him. “You bet. Lead the way.”
***
“So, you said he was there when you left yesterday morning. Around what time was that?” Detective Miller asked.
“About ten-thirty,” Rosie said firmly. “I had errands to run.”
“And you returned home at what time?”
“Around six,” she proclaimed. “And as I was walking up my driveway, he came out of Stella’s house and got in his car and left.”
“What kind of car?”
“Gray four-door. I have no idea what brand.”
“How tall would you say he was?”
Rosie frowned and rose from her chair. “Stand up.”
“Excuse me?”
“Stand up, young man,” she repeated. “I’m not good with just guessing people’s heights, but I can compare him to yours and mine.”
