Death of a Country Fried Redneck

by Lee Hollis

  “Did your sister tell you when she would be home?”

  Dustin propped his head up with his hand, elbow on his pillow. “Reid dropped her off hours ago, before you even got home.”

  “Well, where is she?”

  “She went over to spend the night at Carrie’s house.”

  Hayley’s heart stopped.

  “She left you a note,” Dustin said, yawning.

  “The only note I got was a text message telling me she was going out with Reid.”

  “That was from this afternoon. You didn’t see a newer note?”

  “No!”

  “Oh, wait. She asked me to tell you. I forgot. Sorry.”

  Hayley started shaking.

  “What’s the matter, Mom?”

  Hayley threw on some tennis shoes, grabbed her car keys, dashed down the stairs, and ran out the door.

  The only thought in her mind was that at this moment her daughter was inside the house of a possible killer.

  Chapter 31

  Hayley banged on the door of the Weston house, desperately trying to stay calm.

  The porch light flicked on, and the door swung open.

  Ned Weston stood in the doorway in a red-and-black plaid shirt, blue jeans, and an annoyed look on his face. He lowered his reading glasses and gripped the newspaper in his fist.

  “What are you doing here? It’s almost ten o’clock at night!”

  “I need to speak with my daughter. It’s important.”

  “Couldn’t you have just called?”

  “Now, Ned,” Hayley barked.

  Ned rolled his eyes and stepped back inside, calling upstairs, “Gemma! Your mother’s here! She wants to talk to you!”

  Hayley could hear music playing upstairs.

  She recognized the tune.

  Some British songstress barely old enough to vote.

  Adele.

  Ned yelled again. “Gemma!”

  “She obviously can’t hear you because the music’s too loud. Let me go get her,” Hayley said, pushing her way into the house.

  Ned blocked her path. “You can’t just come into my house uninvited.”

  Hayley exhaled a breath and stepped back outside. “Fine, Ned. Just get my daughter for me and I’ll leave.”

  Ned gave her a curious look. “Why are you acting so strange?”

  Hayley was tapping her foot nervously.

  She ignored the question.

  “I’ll go get her,” Ned said, eyeing Hayley suspiciously and then pounding up the stairs.

  Hayley glanced around.

  Everything appeared normal as far as she could see.

  After a few moments, Gemma hurried down the stairs, Carrie and Ned on her heels, and stared at her mother, perplexed.

  “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

  “I need you to come home with me,” Hayley said evenly.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want the third degree. I just want you to come with me right now.”

  “Is something wrong, Mrs. Powell?” Carrie asked in a soft voice.

  “No, Carrie. Everything’s fine.”

  “Then I don’t understand why I have to leave,” Gemma said, anger rising in her voice.

  Hayley took Gemma by the arm and squeezed tight. It was her usual signal that she was in no mood to argue and there would be painful consequences if Gemma did not start cooperating immediately.

  Gemma shrugged and turned to Carrie. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

  “Carrie, why don’t you walk us out?” Hayley asked as casually as she could.

  “No, Carrie, I want you to stay here,” Ned said, shifting uncomfortably, trying to figure out what was going on here.

  “Dad, I’m just going to walk them to the car. You can see me the whole time from here, okay?”

  Ned didn’t want to appear too controlling so he nodded, his eyes fixed on Hayley like a laser, his mind racing.

  “Let me just go get my stuff,” Gemma said, turning to go back upstairs, but Hayley squeezed her arm tighter.

  “We can pick it up tomorrow,” Hayley said, forcefully pulling her daughter outside and toward the car.

  Carrie followed them.

  They were halfway across the street when, out the corner of her eye, Hayley spotted Sergio’s police cruiser rounding the corner and heading down the street toward the Weston house, the blue lights flashing.

  She picked up the pace, dragging Gemma alongside her. Carrie was still a few feet behind them, oblivious to the approaching cop car.

  Hayley fished in her coat pocket for her car keys and remotely unlocked the doors of the Subaru.

  She glanced back. Ned Weston’s tall frame was still filling the doorway. Even in the dark from across the street, she could see his angry eyes glaring at her.

  The blue lights from the cruiser washed over Ned’s face and he suddenly snapped to attention and jerked his head around to see the approaching police car.

  Hayley was distracted by Carrie, who was tugging on her coat sleeve. “Mrs. Powell, what’s happening?”

  Carrie had noticed the cruiser.

  Now, so did Gemma.

  Hayley didn’t know what to say.

  “Mom . . . ?” Gemma asked, her voice trailing off.

  The police cruiser stopped in front of the house and Sergio, accompanied by Officer Donnie, stepped out of the vehicle.

  Hayley glanced back to the front door of the Weston house.

  Ned was gone.

  “What are the police doing here?” Carrie wanted to know.

  “They want to speak to your father,” Hayley said quietly.

  “My father? About what?”

  Hayley couldn’t bring herself to answer.

  Sergio and Donnie were now on the front stoop, looking around, wondering why the front door was left wide open. Sergio turned around to see Hayley and the two girls standing by Hayley’s white Subaru wagon. He raised an eyebrow, surprised to see her here.

  “Hayley?” Sergio asked.

  “I just came by to pick up Gemma and take her home.”

  Sergio nodded, understanding instantly. “Carrie, is your father home?”

  “Yes. He must have gone back inside,” Carrie said.

  “Mind if we go inside and have a talk with him?”

  Carrie nodded, and Hayley put an arm around her, sensing how frightened she was, not knowing why the cops wanted to question her father.

  Sergio and Donnie walked inside the house and began calling for Ned.

  But Hayley knew they wouldn’t find him.

  She knew Ned Weston would have run off into the night when he saw the cops in front of his house.

  And it just made him look guiltier.

  Hayley still had her arm around Carrie.

  “Why are the police looking for Mr. Weston, Mom?” Gemma asked.

  “I’ll explain when we get home. Carrie, why don’t you come stay at our house tonight?”

  “No! I’m not going anywhere until Chief Alvares tells me what he thinks my father has done!”

  Carrie broke away from Hayley and dashed back inside the house.

  “Mom, we can’t just leave her,” Gemma pleaded.

  Hayley felt vulnerable in the pitch-black night.

  Ned Weston was on the loose.

  He could be anywhere.

  And her single thought was getting her daughter home safe.

  “Gemma, in the car,” Hayley said.

  Gemma got her mother’s tone immediately.

  Without another word, she opened the passenger-side door and slid onto the seat.

  Hayley got behind the wheel, and they pulled away in time to see Sergio talking to Carrie, who looked scared and alone.

  Chapter 32

  After Hayley explained to Gemma about the recovered gun being registered to Carrie’s father and how they suspected it might have been used in the murder of Mickey Pritchett, Gemma frantically began texting Carrie to see if she was all right.

  After w
hat seemed like an eternity, Carrie texted back that she was fine and at her house with Sergio waiting on word from her father. There was still no sign of him.

  It was now after eleven, and Hayley could barely manage to keep her eyes open. Gemma retreated to her room, while Dustin was already asleep when they’d arrived home.

  Leroy followed Hayley up the stairs to her bedroom, jumped up on a footstool, and looked outside, tail wagging, as Hayley undressed, slipped on some sweats and a ratty old t-shirt, and climbed into bed. She made a whistling sound and patted the comforter for Leroy to join her, but he was staring at something on the street. She noticed his tiny tail stop wagging and a low growl building.

  The growl erupted into a bark and Hayley sighed, throwing off the comforter and putting her feet down on the cold hardwood floor to snatch her pup away from the window. Leroy barked at anything that moved outside so she assumed it was just a squirrel or a night owl or a deer that had wandered into the yard to munch on her flower bed again.

  It was none of those things.

  It was the figure of a man.

  Standing in the shadows just outside the glow of a street lamp.

  Watching her house.

  It was Ned Weston.

  Hayley wasn’t going to waste a moment speculating on why he was stalking her. Her nervous behavior had certainly tipped him off that something was about to go down. He knew her relationship with Sergio. It was no coincidence that the police had showed up only minutes after she had pounded on his door demanding to take her daughter home. He knew Hayley was responsible and maybe he was here for revenge.

  But it didn’t matter.

  What mattered was protecting her kids.

  So, like any threatened mama bear, she slipped on some shoes, snuck into Dustin’s room and grabbed a baseball bat from his closet, and marched down the stairs.

  She didn’t stop to think about what she was doing, because she didn’t want time for fear to take over.

  She kicked open the front door and saw the man in the shadows jump back. She raised the bat over her head and broke into a run, heading straight for him.

  “Whoa! Wait! Stop!” the man yelled, throwing his hands up in surrender.

  It wasn’t Ned Weston.

  She saw the silhouette of a cowboy hat.

  It was Wade Springer.

  “Wade! What are you doing lurking around here at this time of night?” Hayley asked, relieved, still holding the baseball bat above her head.

  Wade cautiously reached over and lowered the tip of the bat with his index finger. “I was debating on whether I should bother you so late. But, hell, honey, I can see now that you were still up!”

  “You scared me half to death,” Hayley said, clutching her chest.

  “That makes two of us, darling,” Wade said, wiping his brow.

  “Why are you here? What’s happened now?”

  “Nothing. I heard they caught the killer and I wanted to come by and see if you were okay. But when I got here I realized how late it was and you were probably already sleeping. Hell, maybe I was just looking for an excuse to see you. I still feel responsible for all this.”

  “I already told you, none of this is your fault!”

  “Like hell it isn’t. I’ve turned this town upside down just by being here. Nice, quiet little place and then after I show up, there’s murder and scandal and Lord knows what else. Seems like a tornado of troubles always seems to follow me around. And I threw you right in front of it with Mickey putting the moves on you and Stacy Jo’s insanity, hiring that kid to scare you. Let’s face it, if I never came here in the first place, you wouldn’t have had to deal with any of this craziness.”

  “Well, I got to meet my idol, so in a weird way, it was worth it.”

  Wade smiled.

  Tipped his hat.

  “So now that the murder’s been solved, what do you say we start all over again. Let me take you out after the show tomorrow night.”

  “Who told you the murder was solved?”

  “That reporter who works with you, Bruce something. . .”

  “Bruce Linney.”

  “Yeah, he dropped by the hotel bar for a drink about twenty minutes ago and said he heard some local man shot Mickey because he made unwanted advances toward his daughter.”

  Bruce no doubt heard about the search for Ned Weston on the police scanner.

  It must have driven Bruce crazy to find out Hayley was so far ahead of him.

  “So what do you say? Dinner? On me? Tomorrow night after the show? I know it’ll be late, but I’m betting I can convince at least one restaurant to stay open. I’m Wade Springer, after all!” Wade said, flashing his killer smile.

  “I’m sorry, Wade, but I can’t.”

  Wade looked crestfallen. “Why not?”

  “Ned Weston is still on the loose and I’m not going to be able to concentrate on anything, especially enjoying dinner with you, until the police have him in custody.”

  There was no arguing her point.

  Wade nodded. “I understand.”

  There was a chill in the air.

  Hayley hugged herself to keep warm.

  “You still coming to the concert?”

  “I hope to. We’ll see.”

  Wade tipped his hat again and started to go, but then he stopped. He took Hayley by the chin and gave her a soft, lingering kiss on the lips.

  “Good night, darling.”

  And he was gone.

  Hayley looked around to make sure there weren’t any more men skulking in the shadows outside her house and then hurried back inside.

  Chapter 33

  The following morning, the day of Wade’s second and final concert in Bar Harbor, Hayley was up early only to discover, much to her horror, that she was out of coffee. Not ten minutes ago, she had reluctantly agreed to let Gemma drive over to Reid’s to pick him up and take him out for Sunday brunch. She still wasn’t comfortable with the idea of Gemma driving, let alone dating so seriously, but she did feel better that Gemma was not alone and had a good, strong, hearty boy around her, given recent events.

  Hayley desperately needed coffee. She hooked the worn red nylon leash onto Leroy’s collar and headed out to the nearest corner store. It was only a half mile from the house, on lower Main Street, and she could use the exercise.

  She cut through an alley to shorten the distance, as her head was already pounding from a severe lack of caffeine. This led her onto a tree-lined side street. It was chilly and there was a heavy mist and the cars parked along the street had morning dew on their windshields.

  Leroy scampered along, tongue hanging out, just excited to be out walking.

  But then, suddenly, he stopped.

  His ears perked up.

  And there was that low growl again.

  Just like last night when he saw Wade lurking outside the house.

  Leroy began barking.

  Hayley looked around, but there was no sign of anyone out.

  She tugged on the leash.

  “Quiet, Leroy. You’ll wake the whole neighborhood.”

  Her firm yank on the leash caught Leroy’s bark in his throat and he settled back into his familiar low growl.

  Hayley decided it was just a squirrel or a cat and hustled past Leroy, pulling him along.

  He put up a fight.

  He wasn’t going anywhere.

  His little butt dragged across the pavement as she forced him.

  “What is the matter with you?”

  Leroy stopped barking and stared past her.

  Suddenly, Hayley felt someone behind her.

  She spun around.

  Ned Weston.

  Hayley shuddered.

  “Don’t scream, or so help me . . .”

  “What, Ned? You’re going to shoot me? Like you shot Mickey Pritchett?”

  “You don’t know anything,” Ned spat out.

  Hayley surmised Ned had to have been hiding behind one of the trees waiting for her to approach so he could co
nfront her, and Leroy had spotted him peeking around the trunk and started to bark as a warning.

  God, she loved her dog.

  But since she hadn’t paid attention to him, the poor little guy was no longer in any position to help her.

  Ned’s face was drawn, with dark circles under his eyes. He probably hadn’t slept all night, trying to avoid Sergio and his officers. He also smelled. But not of sweat and dirt.

  No, it was a sharp, distinct, familiar fishy smell.

  “I’m warning you, Hayley, leave this thing alone. I don’t want to hurt you. But if you keep poking around playing detective, I’m afraid I’m going to do something we’ll both regret.”

  “Innocent men don’t make such blatant threats, Ned.”

  First Jesse DeSoto.

  Now Ned Weston.

  How many more men would threaten her with bodily harm before all this was over?

  Ned pointed a finger in her face. “I’m not going to tell you again!”

  He got right up close and the smell was overpowering.

  It nearly brought tears to her eyes.

  Ned kept his finger pointed at her and Hayley noticed it was shaking slightly. Like he was scared.

  Meanwhile, Leroy’s yapping was getting louder, and Hayley noticed a couple of people looking out their windows out of curiosity. The barking startled Ned enough that he stuffed his hands in his coat pocket, brushed past Hayley, and ran off down the street.

  Hayley didn’t follow him.

  She knew where he was probably going.

  Coffee would have to wait.

  She picked up Leroy and ran back home, since she had forgotten to bring her cell phone with her.

  She slammed through the front door, grabbed the phone off the kitchen counter where she’d left it, and speed-dialed Sergio, who picked up on the first ring.

  “This is Sergio.”

  “I know where you can find Ned Weston.”

  “I’m all earrings.”

  “Ears, Sergio. It’s just ears.”

  “I’m listening!”

  “I just ran into him.”

  “Where?”

  “Doesn’t matter. He took off. But I know exactly where he is going. Lex Bansfield’s fishing boat. There’s a nice little futon below deck. He’s hiding out there.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’ve been there. I’m an adult, Sergio. If I want to spend some quality time with a man on his boat, then that’s nobody’s business but . . .”