“I’m here for you, Casey,” Dina was heard softly speaking over her.
Casey looked around the cemetery as the rain continued to drench her. She could hear Dina, but she couldn’t see her. Where was she? She was all alone! She allowed her face to fall into her bloodied hands and sobbed softly. A hand touched hers. She sniffed and looked up. The rain had suddenly stopped. She stared into her father’s eyes. He stood before her while holding her hand and smiled reassuringly.
“You’re not alone, Casey,” he said gently. “I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.”
Casey held back her sobs and squeezed his hand in response. He warmly touched her face then kissed her forehead. Her father pulled back and looked into her eyes.
“You must go with him,” he said gently.
She stared into his eyes with bewilderment. “Go with him? Who?”
There was a blinding light. Voices were shouting over her, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. Casey shielded her eyes and watched her father vanish into the light. The light was warm and inviting. Her mother’s voice was heard from the other side. Casey smiled and headed toward the light. She wanted to see her mother again; she wanted to hold her and tell her how much she loved her.
“I’m coming, Mom,” she cried out while holding back her tears. “I’m here!”
She felt someone grab her hand. She looked behind her to a shadowy figure just outside the light as he clung to her blood covered hand.
“Casey, come back,” the male voice cried out.
She stared at the man’s outline a long moment and attempted to see his face. She was sure he wasn’t her father, but she couldn’t make out the voice. There were too many voices shouting over her now. She held his hand but remained confused. The way he held her hand was so comforting, she didn’t want to let go.
“Stay with me, Casey,” he sobbed softly while clinging to her hand. He sounded so frightened. She squeezed his hand and moved closer to him. “That’s it; stay with me.”
His voice was now soft and comforting. She listened to his voice while straining to see who he was. It was no use. She couldn’t see him. When she looked back, the light had vanished. Her mother and father were gone. She’d lost them again. As she turned, the man holding her hand had also vanished. Dina was now speaking over her. She wanted that man back. She felt so cold and frightened now. She looked around, but she was alone in the cemetery. Dina’s voice was now louder and clearer. She was somewhere close by, but she didn’t see her.
“I’m here for you, Casey,” Dina said gently.
Casey looked around the empty cemetery for her friend. All three caskets were now gone. She was completely alone except for the sound of Dina’s voice speaking over her. A strange, repetitive beeping sound caught her attention. What was that sound? Where was it coming from? She again turned. A brilliant bright light shined in her face. She shielded her eyes and blinked almost painfully from the light. Casey slowly opened her eyes and saw Dina hunched over her where she lie. Dina held back her sobs and clung to Casey’s hand. Casey uncertainly looked around and realized she was in a bed. It was morning, and the sun was shining on her from the open blinds. Had it all been a dream? Was her family still alive? As she painfully looked around, she could see several lines attached to her and monitors steadily beeped, indicating she was still alive.
“Hey--” Dina said softly with a warm smile although she struggled to keep from crying.
Casey stared at Dina and realized it hadn’t been a dream. It was true! Her family was dead! She shut her eyes and sobbed softly. Dina quickly moved onto the bed and gently held her.
“I know. I’m here, Casey,” Dina said softly. “It’s going to be okay.”
She clung to Dina despite the tremendous amount of pain involved. Everything hurt, but she could only think of what had happened to her family. “They’re dead, Dina,” Casey gasped while sobbing. “My parents and Grey--”
“I’m not dead yet--” Grey gasped softly from nearby.
Casey managed to look past Dina to where Grey lie in the next bed. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow, but he was alive! Casey smiled and sobbed tears of joy.
†
It was a little after seven that morning. There was an urgent pounding on Ernest’s front door. Ernest wearily walked down the stairs dressed in his finest, satin pajamas and approached the front door to the unrelenting pounding. The little gray cat rubbed against his legs. He shoved the cat aside with his foot then proceeded for the door, looking exhausted and irritated.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!”
Ernest unlocked and opened the heavy front door to reveal the mayor. Lance stormed into the foyer in a state somewhere between panic and rage.
“What the hell did you do?” Lance exploded while repeatedly running his fingers through his hair as he paced the foyer.
Ernest stared at him with surprise and finally appeared awake. “What are you talking about?”
“What am I talking about? Where the hell have you been all morning?”
“It’s barely even morning,” Ernest retorted while looking annoyed. “I was sleeping until you started pounding on my door. What happened?”
“What happened? What the hell do you mean by ‘what happened’? I didn’t want Brandon running for mayor, but I didn’t expect you to have him killed!”
“Killed?” Ernest suddenly cried out with astonishment. “Brandon Remington is dead?”
“Brandon and Catherine! And don’t act all surprised!” Lance stopped pacing and pointed a warning finger at Ernest. “I have half a mind to call Sheriff Wiley and tell him what you did! Casey and Grey are clinging to life in ICU! I told you not to let them hurt her! How could you do something like that? I--I should shoot you where you stand!”
Ernest stared at Lance with surprise and possible horror to the news. He vigorously shook his head. “I don’t know what happened last night, Lance, but I had nothing to do with it.”
“No, you had my half-witted nephews do your dirty work!”
“Lance, you need to calm down.”
“Calm down? I’m an accessory to murder--double homicide, to be specific!” Lance cried out and again returned to his paranoid state. He once again paced and shook his head. “I won’t be a party to this. I have to tell Sheriff Wiley before he calls in a homicide detective. This was not what I meant when I asked for your help!”
“Damn it, Lance, relax!” Ernest shouted.
Lance stopped pacing and turned to face Ernest with a strange look in his eyes. His hostility was quickly replacing his paranoia once again. Ernest took a deep breath and looked into Lance’s eyes with a serious expression.
“I had nothing to do with what happened to the Remington’s last night,” Ernest said firmly. “I swear to you, my boys had nothing to do with killing anyone either. There was a fight at the tavern, the police showed up, and they came home. I swear, Lance, they didn’t leave the house after that.”
Lance appeared surprised while staring at the sincere look on Ernest’s face. “My God, you’re telling the truth, aren’t you? Neither you nor my nephews had anything to do with what happened at the Remington farm.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Ernest announced and appeared to relax, although he was clearly shaken. “My boys aren’t killers. You, of all people, should know that.”
†
It was later that same afternoon following the night of the brutal slayings at the Remington farm. Casey was partially elevated in bed and stared at her unconscious brother as the nurse checked on him. She’d been watching him nearly all morning, and he hadn’t said much since he proclaimed he still lived. She was concerned he wouldn’t pull through. The nurses seemed reluctant to tell her his condition. ‘He’s fine’ seemed to be the only answer she got. Since she hadn’t seen this nurse earlier, perhaps she’d surrender more information.
“Is he okay,” she asked the nurse.
“He’s fine,�
�� the nurse replied.
Casey wondered if there was something they weren’t telling her. Was he really fine? Or were they just humoring her because of her fragile state?
“He’s on a lot of pain killers,” the nurse continued. “He’s going to be in and out. Give him a day or two.”
At least her answer was a little better than the answer the others had given. Sheriff Wiley and Deputy Holt entered the room looking almost like she felt. The nurse looked to the doorway, saw them, and appeared cheerful while looking back at Casey.
“Oh,” the nurse said. “You have company.”
As the nurse left the room, Wiley and Vaughn approached her between the two beds. Wiley gently touched her hand and smiled with an odd tenderness she’d never seen before. His look was almost fatherly.
“How are you feeling?” Wiley asked.
“I look better than I feel.”
Vaughn glanced at Grey and appeared concerned about his condition. He gave a nod toward her brother. “How’s Grey?”
“He feels better than he looks,” she said while attempting a smile. “He’s loaded up on the good painkillers.”
“I’m glad you’re finally awake and alert,” Wiley announced. “Dina said you were clinically dead.”
Casey smiled matter-of-fact. “Supposedly I went to the light--twice.”
“That’s pretty scary,” he remarked gently then hesitated and cleared his throat. “What do you remember about last night?”
She considered the question and drifted out a moment as if reliving some dark trauma. “Three gunshots and then a feeling of peace,” she said softly. She snapped out of her trance and looked at Sheriff Wiley. “Who was he?”
Wiley and Vaughn tensed simultaneously. Vaughn looked away. It was hard to tell if he was ashamed or enraged.
Wiley fidgeted, clung to Casey’s hand, and looked into her eyes with sincerity. “We don’t know. He got away.”
Casey’s expression suddenly shattered. She felt her entire body tremble, which was undoubtedly a spike in her already frail blood pressure. Her attention immediately focused on Vaughn, who kept his head down.
“I thought you shot him?” she suddenly cried out.
Her sudden outburst caused him to look up and meet her glare. “I did,” he announced defensively. “Three times.”
Casey’s mind was racing and her entire body was twitching with her spiking blood pressure. The monitors attached to her started reacting with a series of loud beeps.
“Why didn’t you make sure he was dead? How did he get away?” she suddenly demanded. Her look turned hateful and her eyes cut through him. “You were right there!”
Vaughn stared at her and appeared momentarily traumatized by her tone and the unpredictably wild stare. “I assumed he was dead. He should have been dead. I needed to keep you from bleeding out.”
Sheriff Wiley attempted to comfort Casey and calm her with a soothing tone. “Casey, Vaughn did the right thing,” he assured her. “If he’d released pressure on your wound, you would have bled to death. You can’t blame him for saving you.”
“He should have left me die!”
Both men stared at her with surprise. Casey was almost surprised by her own outburst. She’d meant it too. Grey’s eyes slowly rolled open to his sister’s shouts.
“What’s happening?” Grey asked in a groggy tone from his nearby bed.
“Did you hear that, Grey?” Casey demanded while gripping the bedrails.
“The part where the killer got away?” Grey said softly. “Yeah, I heard that.”
Casey shot up straight in bed despite the pain it caused her and glared at Vaughn with a vengeful look in her eyes. “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t kept me in the back of your cruiser the whole night, I would have been there,” she lashed out. “I could have stopped it!
Vaughn stared at her with a look of guilt. He appeared unable to respond. He knew he had screwed up and nothing he could say would fix it. Wiley again attempted to calm her.
“If he would have taken you home when he should have, you’d be dead, Casey,” Wiley gently informed her. “The killer entered through your bedroom window. Deputy Holt saved you and your brother.”
Casey didn’t care. She just wanted to jump out of her bed and hurt Vaughn. The pain in her abdomen was finally getting the better of her. She clutched her lower abdomen and cringed with pain while maintaining her venomous glare.
“Get him out of here!” she shouted.
Grey was already out again. The nurse and doctor hurried into the room, looked at Casey, and appeared alarmed. Blood seeped through the sheets and between Casey’s fingers from her abdomen. She’d almost certainly torn her stitches.
“I’m sorry, you have to leave,” the furious doctor informed them.
Vaughn stared at the blood and appeared momentarily traumatized. He turned and left the room without another word. Vaughn hurried into the hallway and leaned against the wall just outside the door. Wiley appeared from Casey’s room, paused before him, and patted his shoulder while giving him a reassuring look.
“You did the right thing, Vaughn,” he announced firmly. “You’re a hero. She’ll eventually see that.”
Vaughn stared up at the ceiling tiles and groaned softly while shaking his head with disgust. “I did everything wrong last night,” he remarked softly with the hurt evident in his voice. “I should have shot him in the leg, but I went for the kill shot. If I hadn’t let my emotions take over, he’d be in custody.”
“The man had just stabbed Casey,” Wiley informed him with an odd look of mayhem in his eyes. “He was holding a knife. Anyone would have done the same thing. I want a piece of that bastard, and I wasn’t even there to see what he’d done.”
Vaughn rolled his eyes shut and allowed his head to fall into his hands with a groan. “I’ll never get over the sight of her bleeding like that.” He lifted his head and looked at his trembling hands. “I had her blood all over me.” He groaned softly and allowed his head to hit the wall behind him as his eyes closed. “I don’t even remember pulling the trigger.”
Wiley gently rubbed Vaughn’s shoulders. “Go home, Vaughn,” he said gently. “You were up all night chasing her horse. You need some sleep.”
Vaughn’s eyes suddenly opened and he glared at Sheriff Wiley. His look was vengeful. “I’ll sleep after I catch the killer.”
Chapter Nine
Vaughn slept restlessly in the chair behind his desk within the police station bullpen. He twitched in his sleep, gasped, and suddenly woke. He looked around the nearly silent, mostly empty bullpen. He groaned softly, placed his feet on the floor, and half collapsed on his desk while rubbing his eyes. He was obviously exhausted, despite his freshly showered appearance. As he looked across the bullpen, he saw the Harford boys leaving the station. Tucker and Mitchell stood in the interrogation room doorway and silently watched the four leave. Vaughn quickly stood and had to catch himself from falling back down. He caught his balance and hurried to his fellow deputies.
“What’s going on?” Vaughn demanded to know. “Why are the Harford boys leaving?”
“We finished questioning them,” Tucker replied while looking over Vaughn’s appearance with concern. “Shouldn’t you be at home getting some rest?”
“I wanted to be there when you questioned them,” Vaughn said firmly. “Wiley told you that.”
“All four have airtight alibis,” Tucker replied. “There was no reason to wake you.”
“Vouching for one another isn’t airtight,” Vaughn snarled in protest.
“All four boys returned home an hour after the tavern brawl a little after midnight,” Tucker announced. “Wayne’s girlfriend showed up a few minutes later and spent the entire night with him. Both she and Ernest swore none of them left all night.”
“As if they couldn’t have slipped out unnoticed,” Vaughn remarked. “And a girlfriend and father aren’t exactly credible alibis either.”
“Yes, they could have slipped out
unnoticed,” Tucker agreed. “But her car blocked theirs in the driveway, and she insists none of the cars were moved the next morning. I went by that way myself around two in the morning.” He fidgeted at his own comment and gently cleared his throat. “Their cars were there just like she said.”
“You were out that way around two?” Vaughn asked.
Tucker remained tense then timidly smiled. “Mel got off work at the tavern around two,” he announced. “I just stopped by her place to make sure she got home okay, that’s all.”
Mitchell snorted a devious laugh. Tucker glared at him, causing him to flinch. Vaughn frowned with disgust. It wouldn’t be the first time Tucker saw a little action during the line of duty.
“I get it,” Vaughn muttered, not needing to hear the intimate details of his rendezvous with Melanie. “Did you happen to notice if their cars were still there when you left Melanie’s house?”
Tucker frowned, having been caught slipping out to sneak one in with his girlfriend, and nodded. “Yeah, they were still there when I left around three.”
“It couldn’t have been them,” Mitchell informed Vaughn. “Why are you so convinced it wasn’t just some drifter or a random home invasion?”
“Because the killer wore a bulletproof vest,” Vaughn remarked sternly to Mitchell. “He wore a vest, because he knew Brandon Remington was armed. Our killer broke into that house with the sole intent to kill everyone inside. That means it was personal and premeditated.”
“And I’m telling you,” Tucker assured him, “it couldn’t have been any of the Harford boys.”
Vaughn frowned and returned to his desk. He collapsed behind it with disgust.
†
It was later that evening when Dina entered Casey’s hospital room with some fresh flowers in a vase. Casey sat up in bed while holding her lower abdomen. She stared blankly at the sheets and didn’t acknowledge Dina. Grey was now awake and alert. He played with the remote for the bed and simulated sounds while raising and lowering his head. He was obviously still on the good painkillers, and they worked, because he certainly wasn’t feeling any pain. He immediately noticed Dina entering the room and appeared a little too enthusiastic.
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