Blackwood

by Celia Aaron

  Something large landed on my chest, knocking the wind out of me and blocking what little vision I had left.

  Everything went quiet except the whine in my ears, and I realized this is what dying feels like.

  The shadowy woods flew by in a rush. I bounced along like a bag of potatoes, lifeless and heavy. It was cold, getting colder, and I couldn’t seem to gather my thoughts. The pain in my head didn’t stop and dimly echoed from other places in my body. And I cried. Not because of the sharp aches like razors across my mind, but because of the man in the grave.

  After what I imagined were hours, the jostling stopped. Strong arms lifted me.

  “She doesn’t look so good.” A familiar voice. My ears had stopped ringing, but sound only came through in muffled tones.

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Another voice, this one laced with worry. Sheriff Crow. “Help me get her into the truck.”

  “Yes, sir.” The fuzzy shape moved away. Rory, maybe?

  “You’re going to be all right.” The sheriff walked gingerly, cradling me close to him. “Hear me? You’ll be okay.”

  I tried to respond, but nothing made it past my swollen lips.

  He laid me down, my head slightly elevated. The engine cranked, and faint warmth poured against my left arm.

  “We’ve got you, Ms. Vale.” Rory. The back of my head rested on his leg as he pressed down on my forehead. More agony bloomed where he applied pressure, and I tried to swat his hands away as the truck began to move.

  “Stay still.” He didn’t move his hand. “I have to stop the bleed. Shh. Please, let me help you.”

  I dropped my hands, my fingers prickling as feeling returned. Try a little closer to home. Garrett. Cozied right up. Garrett. I dry-heaved, my body convulsing as everything inside me rebelled at the thought.

  Rory leaned over and pressed his forearm across my hips to hold me still. “Sheriff!”

  “Keep her steady, goddammit! I’m going as fast as I can.”

  “I don’t know if she’s going to…”

  Their words faded away as my thoughts circled Garrett like a murder of crows. The man I’d slept with, the one I’d come to love—he was responsible for my father’s death. He’d played me this whole time. But what was he trying to hide? My thoughts scattered until an unwavering determination remained. I would find out. Garrett would answer my questions. And then he would pay.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “—about fifteen hours, give or take. I’ve given her something for the pain every two hours. Lessened the dose a little while ago.”

  “When do you think the swelling will go down?”

  “Days. These injuries are pretty bad, and head wounds take a while to stop swelling and bruising.” A cough. “Do you have any leads on who did it?”

  “That’s an ongoing investigation, Doc. Can’t say more.”

  Someone squeezed my hand. “You’ll heal, dear. You’ll heal in time.” The hand disappeared. “I’m going to get something to eat, then come keep an eye on her.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll sit with her while you’re gone.” Sheriff Crow’s voice grew louder.

  I forced my good eye open and blinked several times to clear the film. I lay in bed in a darkened room with a wide window looking out onto woods. The walls and ceilings were made of rough-hewn logs, and the décor was rustic with two sets of antlers on the wall near the door.

  “Elise?”

  “Yes.” My voice came out in a croak.

  “Here.” After a beat, a straw pressed against my lips.

  I drank as best I could. Sheriff Crow took the cup away and wiped the water off my chin.

  He stared into my good eye. “You had me worried there for a minute, young lady.”

  “Makes two of us.” My voice scratched through my throat.

  “You’re safe here. I was trying to get you to the hospital, but you sort of had a fit on the way and then lost consciousness. I radioed up to the Lodge, hoping like hell Doc Lewis was here or nearby. We lucked up. He was on his way.” He swiped his hat off and dropped it on the small wood table next to my IV stand.

  “Can you talk, or would you rather wait?” He took my hand, grasping gently.

  “Talk.”

  “What happened out there?”

  “I saw a grave. That day when Garrett was shot.” His name felt like a curse word on my tongue. “I went back out there myself to see if it was…” I swallowed hard.

  It was too late now. My secret was out. The sheriff and Rory must have seen the grave, the skull.

  I took a deep breath. “To see if it was my father.”

  He squinted in confusion. “Why would your father be buried in Blackwood like that?”

  “He died there. Vince Gallant.”

  A spark of recognition lit, like a popping ember in a fire, and he opened his eyes wide. “Vince Gallant was your daddy?”

  “Yes. That’s why I’m out here. To find him. Find out what happened.”

  “Hell.” He ran a hand through his hair and sat back. “I haven’t thought about him in a while. Didn’t know he had a daughter.”

  “You knew him?”

  “Yeah. Went to high school together. I was a couple years ahead of him. Then he came back around about two years ago or so. Didn’t see him after that.” He shook his head. “From the looks of that grave, he’s been here the whole time. What the hell happened out there?”

  “Danny killed him.”

  His expression soured and he moved close again. “That crazy old coot.” He paled. “Jesus. If we hadn’t been out looking for poachers nearby, we never would have heard you screaming. Heard the shot.”

  “I’m glad you found me.”

  “Me too.” He squeezed my hand. “That day’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life. First time I’ve ever killed a man in the line of duty.”

  “I can’t imagine how that must feel, but thank you. You saved my life. He was going to kill me.”

  “Then that makes it all worth it.” He scooted closer, the legs of the chair clacking against my bed frame. “More than worth it.”

  We sat in silence for a while as I replayed the scene in the woods. Other than Danny’s words, I had nothing to go on. And I couldn’t sort through them. Why would Garrett want me dead?

  “Sheriff?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Danny said things. I don’t really understand what he meant, but maybe you will.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Like what?”

  “That he killed my father. That someone put him up to killing me.”

  “What? Who?”

  A ruckus in the hallway had the sheriff on his feet with a hand on his gun. He hurried to the door and peered out.

  I shuddered, a tremor shooting through me at the thought of more danger, more violence. Clenching the sheets between my hands, I stared at the door and imagined any number of horrors coming for me.

  “Where is she?” Garrett’s voice, wheezing but still strong, shot into the room.

  Sheriff Crow relaxed.

  “Don’t.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Don’t what?” He glanced over his shoulder at me.

  I stared at the door, then glanced back to him.

  He seemed to understand and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Garrett, calm down. You aren’t well.”

  “Where the fuck is she?” he roared.

  I cowered, my entire body shaking right down to my soul.

  “Garrett, you shouldn’t be up.”

  “Is she in there?” A scuffle erupted outside the door. “Red! Red!”

  “Garrett, stop!”

  More scuffling, and the door burst open. Garrett ran in, blood soaking through the gauze over his chest. Wild eyes, hair even wilder, he lunged toward the bed. I screamed and held out my hands as a pathetic defense.

  Confusion crossed his eyes before Sheriff Crow tackled him to the ground. I stared down at the struggling mass on
the floor, and only sank back into the bed when Sheriff Crow clicked his cuffs on Garrett’s wrists.

  “Calm the fuck down, boy.” The sheriff clambered to his feet and pulled Garrett up with him. “Doc!” he yelled out into the hallway.

  “What happened?” Garrett still tried to surge toward me even as I pushed back into the pillows. “Who did this to you?” Rage infused his words, and I almost believed it. Almost.

  “You know who did it.” I hated the quaver in my voice, the weakness I’d just shown.

  “How would I know who?” He shook his head before glowering. “All I know is I’ll fucking kill him.”

  “What in seven hells?” Dr. Lewis poked his head through the door.

  “You need to check him.” Sheriff Crow yanked on Garrett’s arm to try and pull him from the room.

  “No, you need to tell me who hurt you. Now, Red.” Garrett strained against the sheriff’s hold, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “Come on now. I’ll put you next door so you can calm down.” Sheriff Crow pulled again, but Garrett wouldn’t budge. “It was Danny, all right? Now come on.”

  Garrett rattled his cuffs. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

  Sheriff Crow slumped a little, his shoulders pitching forward. “You won’t have to. I already did.”

  “Red, tell me what the hell is going o—”

  “You need help, Sheriff?” Rory had arrived in the hallway.

  “Just keep an eye on her. Come on, Garrett. Let the doc patch you up, and I’ll tell you what happened.”

  “I’m not leaving her.”

  My bottom lip trembled as I stared at the man I thought I knew, not sure if I wanted to run away from him or into his arms. It was all acting, had to be.

  “She’s in no state and neither are you.” Sheriff Crow gestured toward me. “You’re scaring her. Just look at her and have a little mercy, Garrett.”

  Garrett relented enough for the sheriff to pull him a few steps away. “I’ll be next door. Just next door. Nothing will hurt you. I promise. Not while I’m here.”

  “Not even you?” A tear rolled down my cheek and stopped at the patch of gauze across the middle of my nose.

  “What?” Hurt bloomed in his eyes like blood in clear water. The sheriff pulled him away, and pain welcomed me back into its thorny embrace.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I sat up in my bed, a steak knife I’d stolen from my dinner concealed under the covers.

  “You said I could see her. Let me the fuck in.” Garrett’s pissed off growl in the hallway had me clutching the knife harder.

  “Hold on a minute, now.” Rory kept his voice even. “The Sheriff left me in charge of this whole rodeo, so you can go in when I say you can go in.”

  A thump sounded against the rustic wood walls. “Fuck, Garrett. Get off!”

  “Move!”

  The door opened, and Garrett rushed in.

  “Hey!” Rory followed close on his heels. “Ms. Vale, I can throw him out of—”

  “Just you fucking try it, Deputy Douche.” Garrett whirled on him.

  To Rory’s credit, he didn’t back down. But it didn’t stop Garrett from grabbing him and tossing him into the hallway. Garrett closed the door and clicked the lock. My ears began to burn, my stomach in a knot.

  “Ms. Vale!” Rory banged on the solid door.

  “I’m okay,” I called. “Just wait outside.”

  Garrett rushed to me and sat on the bed, then pulled me into his arms. “Jesus, what’s going on?”

  He pulled away and ran his palm down my swollen cheek. “How could he? I knew Danny.” His demeanor turned to stone. “I would kill him with my fucking bare hands for doing this to you.”

  “Would you?” I tried to weigh his worth, to decide if he was a monster or a man.

  “What do you mean?” He pulled me into his arms again.

  The furnace of my heart sputtered and sparked from the nearness of him, but doubt darkened any flames.

  “I mean that Danny said things.” I hadn’t released the blade.

  “Like what?” He kissed my forehead, his warm lips reminding me of nights spent safe in his arms.

  “About the graves.”

  He leaned back and peered at me, his hands still cupping my face. “What about them? Does he know where they are?”

  Why couldn’t I sense his lies? Everything from the tilt of his head to the worry in his eyes screamed that he was innocent, that he didn’t know what I was talking about.

  “I’m tired.” I backed away from his touch and pressed into my pillows.

  “Red, please, just tell me.” He clasped my hand between his. “Let me help you.”

  “The doctor said I need to rest if I want to get my strength back. We’ll talk when I’m better. I need some time. Alone.”

  The hurt that flashed across his face echoed in my heart, stabbing into the soft tissue and starting a slow bleed. But how could I trust him? The simple answer was that I couldn’t. I should have listened to my mother. Until I found the graves and dug down deep enough to hit the truth, I couldn’t trust anyone.

  Not even the man sitting in front of me with love in his eyes.

  “You all right?” Rory walked down the hall with me.

  I glanced back to the room where I knew Garrett was holed up. The sheriff had tried to escort him off the property twice since he’d visited me. Each time was met with broken furniture and more curses than I’d ever heard in my life. He stayed in his room, and I slept uneasily the past two nights.

  “I’m fine. Just hungry.” I gave Rory a wan smile.

  He returned it five times brighter and put his hand at the small of my back. “Breakfast is already cooking.”

  The smell of bacon and butter wafted on the air, and my stomach growled. My appetite had returned once Dr. Lewis stopped the IV. Once the pain from my injuries had receded to a dull ache, I spent my time hunkered down in my room, trying to form a game plan.

  Rory and I turned the corner and passed the large glass windows giving a view of the Lodge’s gym and sauna area. A few older men walked on state-of-the-art treadmills and stopped their conversation to give us small waves.

  “Mayor.” Rory kicked his chin up.

  I stared harder and recognized him. Mayor Freeman walked at a steady pace, his beady eyes focused on me. He’d come to visit me once, assuring me that the school was aware of my condition and that the sheriff’s department was personally overseeing the exhumation of my father’s bones. We continued down the wide hall lined with rustic décor and modern amenities.

  Rory pushed the door leading to the large dining room. Antlers and game heads covered the walls and clear windows looked out onto the barren woods. A light dusting of snow had fallen overnight, giving the ground a pathetic smattering of white. The darkness shone through, the rotted leaves and decay overpowering the perfect flakes.

  I let Rory lead me to a table next to the windows, and we sat. Pam, the cook and waitress, didn’t need our orders. We’d had the same thing for the past few days.

  “Are you sure you want to leave today?” Rory flipped over our coffee cups and poured from the carafe that had already been set out.

  “Yes.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  I took my coffee and sipped it, the bitter sting reminding me I was still alive. “Finish my survey.” Find the graves on Blackwood property.

  “I’ll go with you.” He leaned back as Pam put a plate of sausage, eggs, and pancakes down in front of him.

  “No thanks.” I slid my napkin into my lap as Pam served me.

  “Elise, you can’t go out there alone. Not again.”

  I wouldn’t. I intended to go back to campus and get a handful of undergraduates, lots of university attention, and a solid grid-by-grid inspection of Blackwood. The mass grave wouldn’t stay hidden with that sort of inspection. Once I found it, I’d figure out what the hell had gone on—what had gone wrong—at Blackwood. And I’d know for certain if Garrett was r
esponsible for the deaths.

  “You still in there?” Rory’s voice snapped me back to the dining room.

  “Yeah, sorry. I’m not going alone. I want to get some backup from school. Bring some undergrads to speed up the process.”

  He met my eyes. “Good. I’ll be there whenever you want to go. The sheriff won’t give me any shit about spending time with you. Protection is part of the job.”

  “What about the mayor?”

  “He won’t say anything.” He shrugged and speared a piece of sausage. “Sheriff Crow is the boss of me.”

  “You weren’t able to find out anything else about Danny?” I tasted my grits, but gave up on them when I realized nothing could compare to the ones Ty whipped up at the diner.

  “No. That’s a kicker.” He shook his head, his short sandy hair barely moving. “I can’t even trace him back to a house, under a bridge, anywhere. I don’t know where he was living. That sort of ruins the whole search for clues. I think he was just crazy, you know?”

  I chewed through my disagreement and remained silent.

  “Just like, found your dad out there, killed him. Found you out there, tried to kill you. Crimes of opportunity. He got lucky. You got unlucky.”

  “Sure.” I bit into my bacon and tried to gauge whether Rory was truly clueless. My bullshit meter didn’t blink, but I’d been wrong before. The thought of Garrett, of the things I’d done with him, burned through me until I couldn’t eat another bite.

  “I’m ready.” I folded my napkin next to my plate.

  “Now?” Rory spoke around a mouthful of pancake.

  “Yeah.” I stood as he took a gulp of coffee.

  “Sure.” He followed me to my feet. “I was thinking it would be this afternoon. I have to run to the back of the Long property first, check on a report of a deer in the road. Can you wait for me to get back?”

  I didn’t want to spend another minute in my room. With my mind made up, it was time to leave. Time to get started on finding the truth no matter how much it hurt. “I’ll just go with you.”

  He put a hand on my shoulder. “There might be a dead deer. Is that okay?”