HAVEN: Beards & Bondage

by Rebekah Weatherspoon

  “I guess you will.” She holds up her now bare ring finger. I flash her a tight smile and continue down the hall. Sarah is a good girl. Too good. Not the woman for me.

  When I turn the corner, I find Cliff Watson where she said he'd be.

  “Visiting hours aren't until later,” he says in his gravelly voice. The Watsons don’t care for any of the Olsens. The feeling is mutual.

  “I'll keep that in mind when I come back later to check on her,” I say.

  “Have it your way. You deal with Fern’s wrath and Jerry’s.”

  I roll my eyes and knock on the door that is part way open anyway. Claudia opens her eyes and looks at me.

  “Hey. Hi. Is it okay if I come in?” I ask.

  “Hi. Yeah.” She lets out a weak cough as I step inside. “Shep.”

  “Yeah that's me. Wanted to come check on you.”

  “See how I was doing?”

  “Yeah. Something like that. Do you mind if I sit?”

  “No. Please. Can you pull the chair there though? It hurts when I move my head to the side too much.”

  “Of course.” I pick up the blue chair and move it further down the length of the bed.

  “It's nice to see someone who isn't in some type of uniform. One of the sheriffs told me they found my brother.”

  There is absolutely nothing I can say. “They didn't tell me much."

  "But they talked to you?" she asks.

  "Yeah."

  "I owe you—"

  "You don't owe me anything."

  "Except my life." I look down at the pale blue hospital blanket as she opens her bandaged hand. The tips of her fingers are scratched up, but clean. And not bleeding. I gently take her hand.

  "Please stay for a while,” she says.

  "No plans for the day." I'd already emailed my boss at the forest service and the dev guys at my other job. They know they won’t be hearing much from me until I get back into my house.

  "So you live on the mountain?" Claudia asks.

  "I do. We don't have to talk if you don't want to. You can rest."

  "You're not much of a talker?" Something in her voice makes my blood rush to all the wrong places. I shift in my seat.

  "I can be."

  "So you live on the mountain?" she urges again.

  "Yeah, most of my life. That's my grandfather's place. But it's just me now."

  "So we have something in common." I tilt my head. "It's just me too. It was just Miles and me. We lost our parents right after I graduated from college."

  "Claudia—" She shakes her head a little.

  "You know, I hate the woods. I hate camping. I’m a city girl. Manhattan is the place for me. But Miles just finished his residency at Stanford and he wanted to get away for a while so I flew three thousand miles to catch up with my brother, get in that sibling quality time we’d been missing so much. Some fucking getaway."

  "They caught him. The guy who attacked your brother. He'll get life for this. Maybe more,” I tell her.

  "Good." A few tears run down the side of her face. She quickly wipes them away with a tissue she’s gripping in her other hand. "Do you like it here? I didn't get to see too much of the town before we headed up the trails. It seems nice. At least the nurses are nice."

  "Have the sheriff's boys been treating you alright?” I ask.

  "Yeah. I got a little bit of the hysterical woman treatment, but I know they are just worried and a little out of their depth maybe. They weren’t being dicks or anything though.”

  "I'm sure they'll let you out of here soon."

  "I’m not looking forward to a six hour flight banged up like this, but it'll be nice to sleep in my own bed."

  "Is there anyone you need me to call?" I don't know what makes me offer. Fern has probably made sure it was taken care of herself.

  "I wasn't due back to work until Wednesday, but I told them who to look up."

  "Good."

  "It hasn't even hit me yet and I just miss him. I've gone months without seeing my brother, but just the idea that I'm never gonna see him again..."

  "It's a lot."

  "It's a lot,” she says.

  "When something bad would happen, my grandfather used to tell me to imagine all the ways it could have been worse."

  She lets out a harsh burst of laughter. More tears stream down her face. She doesn’t bother wiping them away. "Oh please. Try me."

  "They could have been clowns,” I say. “I've encountered some crazy shit in these woods, but never clowns."

  She laughs for real this time. "Oh my god. That would have been fucking awful." She laughs a little harder, grabbing her side. "Oh my god. I wouldn't have run. I would have sprouted wings and flown the fuck out of there."

  "Yeah, if I'd seen a clown when I opened my door, you would have been on your own." I chuckle a bit myself, watching her as her laughter becomes a bit more hysterical. And then it hits that point. She finally cracks. That moment I think she's been waiting for finally hits. She loses it and starts sobbing.

  I look over as Cliff throws the door open, making her jump. She starts shaking.

  "Jesus, dude," I say. "Just give her a second."

  "Sorry," he says, realizing his mistake. He eases back, closing the door all the way.

  "I know we just met, but do you want me to hold you? I'll do it, happily. I'm only asking ’cause I want it to be your choice. I figure you might do with some comforting," I say.

  "Please."

  There’s no room on that hospital bed for me, period, but I gently move her IV stand and lift her into my lap. She lightly rests her head on my chest and cries.

  Three

  I let Claudia cry herself out and sometime after she’s snoring softly on my chest, I pass out. I don't know what time it is when shouting in the hallway jerks us both awake. Claudia grimaces and grabs her forehead.

  “Shit. You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just really tender.”

  I ease out of the bed, giving her some space to get comfortable again without me in the way.

  “They are both in there?! Together?” the voice that woke me up says.

  “Yeah—it seems so.” That’s Jerry.

  “Jesus. You guys really know how to run a tight ship.”

  “Listen—”

  I take a deep breath and move the IV stand closer to the bed as Claudia adjusts her covers. When I look up, a White man and a White woman in dark suits are standing in the doorway. Jerry’s behind them, his face all puffed up and red.

  “Shepard Olsen? Claudia Cade?” the woman asks.

  “Yes?” we both say.

  “I'm Alice Lightfoot and this is my partner, Scott Tanner. We’re with the FBI. We need to speak to you.”

  I glance down at Claudia.

  “Okay. Speak,” I say.

  “Shep.” I look at Jerry over their shoulders and shoot him an incredulous look.

  “What?”

  “We need to speak to Miss Cade as well. Without you.”

  I glance back down at Claudia. She looks terrified, but when her fingers brush mine I realize she’s trying to comfort me.

  “For fuck’s sake. Fine. I'll be back,” I tell her.

  “Actually, I don't think that would be a good idea. Miss Cade needs some time to recover,” Agent Tanner says.

  “Am I under arrest?”

  “We’d like to talk to you first.”

  “Fine.” I give Claudia’s damaged fingers a light squeeze. “I will be back.”

  “Okay,” she says. Her voice is weak, but there’s confidence in her unbruised eye. She knows I’ll be back for her.

  We walk out in the hallway. Jerry follows us to the main entrance. He cuts off and walks toward his cruiser near the curb.

  “Sheriff, let's see if your men can follow orders this time. She doesn't get any visitors. Hospital personnel only,” Lightfoot says.

  “We'll see to it.” He's still red when he jumps behind the wheel and floors it. I watch Jerry speed away and try not to
consider what it means that he’s left me with these assholes.

  “Where are you going, Mr. Olsen?” Tanner asks.

  I turn around. “To my truck.”

  They share a look.

  “Why don't we come with you. And then we’ll give you a ride back to the station.”

  I hold in an annoyed grunt. “Sure thing.”

  We walk out to the visitors’ lot. I see right away that May-Bell and I didn't exactly aim for precision when we were scrubbing my truck down. There’s still a few specks of blood on the door.

  “Can you unlock it for us?” Agent Lightfoot asks.

  I unlock it remotely without taking my keys out of my pocket.

  “It's a nice truck. Expected something a little more beat up for someone who lives on the mountain,” Tanner says as he snaps on a pair of rubber gloves. Lightfoot is slowly walking around of the front of my Chevy.

  “Yeah, rusted out classics with no heat are great when they break down in the pass,” I say.

  “Touché.”

  I watch them as they slowly inspect every inch, doing my best to keep my mouth shut. Tanner calls Lightfoot over to the passenger side. He mutters something and then she pulls out her phone.

  “Yeah. We need someone down here to collect evidence from Shepard Olsen’s vehicle.” She pauses. “Not much. He scrubbed it pretty good, but there’s still some trace evidence.” She ends the call with a “Yep.” Then turns to Tanner, who's taking off his gloves. “Why don’t you two go have a chat?” I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

  Tanner nods, then turns to me with this creepy as fuck smile. “Come on. We’re right over here.” Right over here is back in front of the hospital’s main entrance. They’ve left their car in a red zone. There’s only a few people coming in and out of the main doors, but that’s enough to get people talking. I climb into the front seat to keep the rumors that I’m the real suspect to a minimum. Tanner doesn’t object.

  “How do you and Miss Cade know each other?” he asks as we drive away from the hospital.

  “We don’t.”

  “No doubt you two are already bonded through this experience, but from the looks of things you seem pretty close. I saw the way she looked at you from that hospital bed. My wife isn’t even that protective of me.”

  “That sounds like a problem between you and your wife.”

  “Hmm.” Tanner grunts and then he laughs. He doesn’t saying anything else until we’re back in the Sheriff’s station. We go through the whole song and dance, but this time Tanner sits me down with a video camera pointing right at me over his shoulder.

  “So tell me what happened last night,” he says.

  “I heard screaming outside my cabin and then someone banging on my door.”

  “Mhmm? Go on.”

  “I got up, grabbed my gun and when I opened the door, Claudia—”

  “Miss Cade.”

  “She told me her name was Claudia. You want me to be more formal?” I ask.

  “I want to make sure you two aren’t tangled up in this some other way.”

  “Tangled up how? Do you think she and I planned this? Do you think I shot the wrong guy?” I don’t have time for this shit.

  “I want to make sure we put the right guy away. Please continue.”

  “I opened the door and Claudia basically fell into my arms.”

  “And she was injured?”

  “Yes, she was covered in blood. She said someone was chasing her—”

  “Was she out of breath?”

  “Yes.” I sigh. I prefer Jerry’s method of questioning where he barely asks any questions. “Not even thirty seconds later, the guy—the one I shot—came out of the woods.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “I told him not to move and he said something about how their little game had come to an end. Like he’d been hunting her.” Tanner nods, then writes something down.

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “He said we could share her.”

  “And then you shot him?”

  “I warned him not to come any closer and when he did, I shot him.” I swallow, ignoring the fact that the kickback bruise on my shoulder is still aching.

  Tanner goes on. “When was the last time you fired your weapon?”

  “Maybe two months ago, down at the range.”

  “You ever have to use it up in the woods?”

  “Just once. A bear came after my dog, but a warning shot scared it away.”

  “Was your dog present last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he touch either the victim or the deceased?”

  “No. I shoved him into the bathroom. You can ask Jerry. He was still in the bathroom when him and the boys went up.” They’re not dragging Titus into this.

  The door opens then and Lightfoot walks in and sits in the open chair next to Tanner. I can’t wait to see who’s going to be the bad cop.

  “Shep,” she says.

  “Shepard works fine,” I say.

  “Shepard. What can you tell me about Miles Cade?”

  “Not much. All she told me was that her brother was back at the campsite. They were both attacked and he told her to run.”

  “So you didn’t go back down to the campsite to check on him?” Lightfoot asks, her frown adding a little extra guilt to the accusation.

  “No. I had a woman who was in clear need of medical attention. She didn’t mention her brother until we were halfway down the mountain.”

  “In your truck.”

  “Yes.”

  “From the looks of your cabin, there must have been a lot of blood in your truck. When did you clean it?” Lightfoot asks.

  “This morning before I came down. I went to the diner for breakfast.”

  “So we have the timeline clear. You’re in bed. Miss Cade shows up at your door. You fire on the deceased, then bring Miss Cade down to the emergency room in Quinten,” Tanner says.

  “That’s it. I was at the hospital for a while and then I came here and spoke with Sheriff Bingham. I told him the same thing I’m telling you, exactly as it happened. Is there anything else? Am I under arrest?”

  “No, you are not,” Tanner says reluctantly, which makes no fucking sense.

  “I thought they got the other guy,” I reply. “I’m not sure what the problem is.”

  “There’s no problem—” Lightfoot starts.

  Tanner interrupts. “We’re just in the middle of a multi-state investigation. There’s evidence that Douglas Smith, the man you killed, and his accomplice are connected to a series of murders across the national parks system.”

  “And that’s why the Feds are involved.”

  “That is correct.”

  I stand and slip my hat back on. “Well I’m not going anywhere if you have any more questions.”

  “Thank you. Let’s see if we can get one of the deputies to give you a lift back up to the Tierneys’ place. Is that where you’re staying?” Tanner asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you head back up there?”

  “And what about my truck?”

  “We’re just giving it a good twice over,” Lightfoot says. “We’ll let you know when we can turn it back over to you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, my tone dry.

  Sally Morgan is on the day shift and she’s waiting for me with her keys when we come out of the interrogation room. I hate seeing this look on her face. She’s nervous as hell. Most action she’s seen since joining the force is a hiker who broke his ankle.

  “You ready, Shep?” she says, her eyes darting between me and Tanner, who thinks I can’t be trusted to walk to the front of the station.

  “Yeah. Thanks for the lift,” I say as she leads the way outside. “You okay?” I ask when she’s behind the wheel.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just—I wasn’t expecting this when I came into work this morning. I mean, I’m in uniform, but…”

  “I get it.”

  “I feel
like—I feel like I should quit.”

  “Hey.” I look over and see Sally is dashing tears from under her eyes. “Jer told me I would answer the phones, direct traffic, and poke Mr. Harmon to make sure he’s breathing when they have to stick him in the drunk tank.”

  “Here, pull over.” I was sure she could see, but she was starting to hyperventilate and it was starting to rain. She doesn’t need to swerve into oncoming traffic. The shoulder is clear up ahead and she stops and smacks the hazard light. I reach up and turn it off.

  “Someone will think your cruiser’s broken down.”

  “Right.” Sally lets out a shaky breath, then she turns to me. “They sent me up to your house this morning. The body wasn’t even covered. Jerry told me there was a body, I just didn’t expect it to be out in the open like that. I’m not cut out for this.”

  “Don’t quit, Sal. Really. This will be over soon. And I promise I won’t shoot anybody else as long as I live on the mountain,” I say, then nudge her shoulder a little with my closed fist.

  When she looks over at me her eyes are still watery. “Oh Shep. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, really.”

  “I should quit anyway. You’re going through all this, I’m just a spectator and I’m crying all over you. Let me get you back up to Jad’s.”

  “Actually, can you drop me back at the hospital?”

  “I can’t, Shep. Strict orders. I have to take you back to the Tierneys’.” I can hear what she’s not saying. The last thing she needs is to get chewed out by Jerry or the FBI just because I’m not good at following instructions. She’d quit for sure.

  “Yeah. Okay. Let’s head up before it starts coming down harder.”

  She checks her mirrors, then pulls back on the empty road. “Gosh, I can't believe it's raining again.”

  “Hope they got all the evidence they need,” I say, more to myself, as I look out the window.

  “I think they did and Milligan confessed.”

  “Why were they grilling me then?” I ask.

  “The Feds don't trust us. They always expect us to foul things up, but Jerry was thorough and they took pictures of every square inch this morning. Those should hold up fine in court. If this goes to trial.”

  We slowly make our way up toward the Tierneys. I try to look up my road as it forks off the main, but it’s tapped off and blocked by an unmarked sedan and another sheriff's cruiser.