There was an odd silence between them. Casey now stared back at him through the mirror. Although not nearly as intimidating as she remembered, staring into his eyes even through the mirror wasn’t easy.
“There’s nothing connecting them to the murders,” he informed her. “I’ve been over it a thousand times, and I’m no closer to a suspect than I was two years ago.”
“Perhaps if you made sure he was dead--” Casey muttered and stopped herself from saying anything more. That subject was a hot button issue and now wasn’t the proper time to get into that particular debate.
“Don’t start with that,” he retorted. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about that night.”
Vaughn rested his elbow on the door and held his temple with disgust. It was obvious he didn’t know what to do. He quickly straightened and composed himself. He once again looked at her through the mirror.
“If you’re going to stay in my town, you’re going to play by my rules,” he announced firmly. “If you have a problem, you come to me. You will not take justice into your own hands. Do you understand?”
There was a strange silence. Casey stared back at him through the mirror. “Yes, I understand.”
Vaughn put the blazer into gear and drove back onto the road. The sheriff’s blazer pulled into the tavern parking lot and up to Grey, who casually leaned against the hitching post with a strange smirk on his face. Vaughn got out, eyed Grey’s smirk, and opened the back door for Casey. She casually got out and handed Vaughn the handcuffs.
“I believe these belong to you.”
Vaughn took the handcuffs and gave her a look of surprise. Casey and Grey mounted their horses and rode away. Vaughn stared after them with a concerned look.
†
Country General Hospital was located nearly twenty miles from town. It was situated in what some might consider a city, although not much of a city, but it was certainly large in comparison with Darwood Falls. For a Thursday night, the hospital appeared busier than usual but not nearly as busy as late night on weekends. Country General Hospital was where Casey and Grey had been airlifted to on the night of their brutal attack. The emergency room had few patients waiting to be seen, but the hospital was loud with commotion. Fred Harford leaned against a nearby wall and watched his three brothers writhing in agony within the waiting room. The few remaining patients watched them and kept their distance from the unruly, angry men.
“What the hell is taking them so long?” Wayne demanded while holding the bloody cloth to his still bleeding mouth and showed general discomfort to nearly every part of his body.
Blain was unusually silent as he sat in a chair while holding his jaw and kept his eyes closed. Ryan writhed in agony while clutching his foot and ribs. Ryan glared at Fred, who watched in silence and appeared mostly unscathed. Ryan obviously wasn’t pleased that his youngest brother wasn’t suffering alongside them.
“Go get a doctor, you idiot!” Ryan shouted at Fred.
“If you actually stopped to think about it,” Fred began then grinned slightly, “it’s kind of funny.”
All three suddenly glared at him. He tensed slightly and tried not to grin.
“I’m going to kick your ass in three seconds,” Wayne growled lowly. “Did you even try to stop her?”
“Sure I did,” Fred protested. “She punched me in the gut and knocked me on my ass with some sort of karate leg sweeping thing. Face it, Wayne; she’s not a girl we want to piss off.”
“Really?” Wayne scoffed with the hostility in his eyes as he sprayed blood while he talked. “Well, I’m going to bring that bitch to her knees.”
“Before or after she takes your head off?” he asked with a cocky tilt of his head.
Wayne sneered at Fred. The hospital doors were thrown open to reveal Ernest. He stormed across the emergency waiting room and approached his sons. He stopped short of them and stared with surprise.
“What the hell happened?” Ernest demanded. “Were you messing with those biker guys again?”
“No, it was Casey fucking Remington,” Ryan lashed out and immediately doubled over while clutching his ribs.
Ernest stared at his injured sons with his mouth hanging open. “Casey’s back?” He suddenly shook his head in disbelief. “Wait, are you telling me Casey did this to you?” He instantly became enraged. “One woman beat the crap out of all four of you?” he suddenly demanded.
“She pulled some martial arts bullshit on us,” Ryan groaned while attempting to find a comfortable position.
Ernest stared at the three writhing in agony then looked at Blain, who barely moved and refused to speak. “You’ve got anything to say?” he demanded.
“She broke his jaw,” Fred said flatly from the wall behind his father.
Ernest spun and looked at Fred. He appeared surprised he wasn’t writhing in agony with them. “Sat this one out?” he scoffed. He obviously knew Fred wasn’t much of a fighter.
“I took a few hits,” he replied while casually straightening. “I was the only one smart enough to admit defeat.” Fred appeared reflective. “You know, I get the feeling when she said ‘no’ she actually meant it.”
Ernest glared at Fred. He stared back at his father and tried hard not to smile.
“I’m going to get some coffee,” Fred announced casually. “You want anything?”
“Yeah, a son with a backbone,” Ernest scoffed. “You stand up for your brothers.”
“They were wrong,” Fred simply informed him.
“That doesn’t matter,” he snapped with hostility. “Family comes first! Right or wrong, we take care of our own. You remember that.”
Fred frowned and walked away. Ernest rolled his eyes and shook his head with disgust. “He’s getting to be like his mother,” he scoffed.
“What are we going to do about Casey Remington?” Wayne gasped and then spit blood onto the floor.
“You leave that to me,” Ernest informed him. “The law will protect us. Remember who you are.”
Chapter Thirteen
It was early the following morning. The Remington farm was neatly groomed, the fences were mended, and several horses grazed in the pasture. The house appeared almost pristine with fresh landscaping and paint. The sheriff’s blazer pulled up to the house. Vaughn got out of the blazer and looked at the jeep and car parked in the driveway as he walked toward the house. The garage door was partially open to reveal a black, vintage sports car, which briefly caught his attention. He walked onto the porch, approached the front door, and promptly knocked on it. A moment passed before the door opened to reveal Diesel in only a pair of floppy shorts. His muscles had muscles, and his mere presence was overpowering with testosterone. Vaughn stared at the large man who towered over him by several inches and seemed surprised by the barely dressed stranger who answered the door.
“Yeah?” Diesel snorted with little interest.
“Sheriff Holt,” Vaughn announced casually. “I’m here to speak to Casey about an incident at the tavern.”
Diesel stared at him only a moment without emotion. “She’s in the shower. Come back later.” He shut the door.
Vaughn stood before the door with a shocked and dumbfounded look. The door once again opened to reveal Ruger, who smiled timidly.
“Sheriff Holt? I’m sorry about Diesel,” Ruger announced. “He’s not really a people person. Please, come in. Casey will be along soon.”
Vaughn eyed Ruger and uncertainly entered. He followed Ruger across the kitchen. Diesel sat at the island counter and read the sports section of the newspaper.
“Could I offer you some coffee and doughnuts while you wait?” Ruger announced pleasantly.
“Uh, yes, thank you.”
Vaughn eyed Diesel and leaned against the nearby counter. Ruger opened the doughnut box and appeared surprised when he discovered it was empty.
“Huh? Fresh out of doughnuts.”
“Coffee will do,” Vaughn replied simply and kept an eye on both men.
; Ruger poured some coffee into a mug and handed it to Vaughn. Grey entered the kitchen, glared at Diesel, and rolled his eyes with disgust.
“God, Diesel. Put some clothes on,” Grey scoffed. “It’s too early in the morning for all that testosterone.”
Diesel didn’t react or bother looking up from his newspaper. “Fuck off.”
Grey approached the doughnut box, opened it, and groaned with disgust. “What happened to all the doughnuts I bought this morning?” he demanded then glared at Diesel, who didn’t bother to look back. “A dozen doughnuts--?”
Diesel glared at Grey. Grey grabbed his car keys with disgust and left without acknowledging Vaughn. Ruger casually prepared two mugs of tea. Vaughn observed the scene in the kitchen and remained curious.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t catch your name,” Vaughn finally initiated an introduction with Ruger.
Ruger glanced at him and maintained his cheerful mood. “I’m Ruger Quinn and that’s Diesel Mann.”
Diesel didn’t bother looking up or even acknowledging the introduction. Vaughn focused his attention on the seemingly approachable man.
“Are you the uncle we’d heard about?” Vaughn asked while leaning on the island counter.
Ruger grinned and appeared humored. “I’m an unofficial uncle. It’s an honorary title. Friend of the family.”
Diesel snorted a laugh. Ruger glared his disapproval at Diesel, who still didn’t look up, and then looked back at Sheriff Holt with a charming smile.
“Just ignore Diesel,” Ruger announced. “His manners are the only thing worse than his attitude.”
Casey entered the kitchen in a worn tank top and a pair of old shorts. She saw Vaughn standing by the island counter, immediately stopped, and groaned lowly with disgust.
“Oh, God. What now?” she muttered.
It was too early in the morning to deal with Sheriff Holt. Mornings were particularly difficult for her. She was never quite herself until early afternoon. Her emotions usually ran rampant in the morning. She was liable to say anything. Ruger noticed her and smiled warmly. She’d been seen. There was no chance to retreat to her room and avoid the hellish morning awaiting her. Casey forced a smile and approached Ruger by the counter. He smiled and handed her a cup of tea. She kissed him on the cheek, took the tea, and eyed Vaughn.
“Good morning, Sheriff,” she announced while attempting to hide her sneer. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Vaughn removed a carefully folded paper from his jacket and tossed it onto the island counter. “The Harford boys are pressing assault charges against you.”
Ruger casually picked up the paper, glanced over it, and appeared curious. “Assault? You mean self-defense.”
“Broken fingers, sprained wrist, broken jaw, cracked scapula, three cracked ribs, fractured cheekbone, and a dislocated shoulder,” Vaughn informed him.
Casey appeared stunned and uncertainly shook her head. “That can’t be,” she protested then smiled slyly. “I distinctly remember breaking someone’s foot.”
“This is serious, Casey. I have to arrest you,” Vaughn informed her.
“Yes, I’m sure you’re very excited about cuffing me again but hold that thought,” Casey announced while grinning.
Ruger removed a laptop from the counter behind him, placed it on the island counter, and opened a file. A video of the entire incident played on the screen taken from a spy cam. Vaughn watched the entire incident with astonishment. Once it ended, he looked at Casey.
“You knew they’d do that, didn’t you?”
“I knew they’d do something,” she casually replied. “I just needed to walk into the room. This is what they do to women. Someone had to do something about it.”
“If that’s the case, why hasn’t anyone ever reported it?” he asked with a curious look.
“Because nothing ever happens,” she growled, quickly losing patients. “It just gets swept away. My mother pressed charges against Wayne once. A week later, the report vanished.” Casey folded her arms across her chest and glared at Vaughn. “I read it in her journal.”
The accusation surprised him. “I never heard about that.”
Casey smirked knowingly.
Vaughn appeared tense and quickly considered his next move. “I’m going to need a copy of that video to get the charges against you dropped,” he informed her. “I’d also like to see your mother’s journal.”
“You don’t need a copy of the video,” Casey informed him. “Grey sent it to Judge Burke, Mayor Ridgeway, Wayne’s wife, and a dozen or so guys from the tavern.” Her look hardened. “As far as my mother’s journal--that’s private.”
“It could help solve the murders,” he informed her and appeared surprised at her reluctance to share it. “Why would you withhold it?”
“Because there’s nothing in there that implicates anyone. I’ve read through it dozens of times,” she informed him bluntly. “Besides, it’s my mother’s private thoughts.”
Vaughn placed his hands on his gun belt and stared at her while shaking his head with disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re this uncooperative. You know I’m trying to help,” he announced then appeared disgusted. “And I hope you realize that by sending that video around town, those boys will just want a bigger piece of you next time.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
Vaughn stared at Casey and appeared more defeated then surprised. “You’re digging yourself a grave, Casey,” he announced firmly, “and your pleasure over it scares me.” His look softened. “Why won’t you trust me?”
There was an odd silence as she stared at him. Her look caused him to tense almost as if he already knew her response.
“It’s difficult trusting the law when they follow a corrupt mayor,” she finally replied.
“I take the law very seriously,” he informed her with sincerity in his tone. “Things are different since I became sheriff of Darwood Falls.”
Casey cleverly raised her brows and tilted her head. “Weren’t you dating the mayor’s daughter?”
Vaughn stared at Casey in silence or was it surprise. Ruger stared at his tea while hiding his smile. Apparently, he was enjoying the sheriff roast. Diesel finally looked up and grinned his humor. If Vaughn was disturbed, he hid it well.
“Briefly, but that had no influence on the law,” he replied with some reluctance.
“Never underestimate the value of a good blowjob,” Diesel retorted then chuckled.
All three glared at Diesel. He smirked and looked back at the sports page without further comment. Vaughn set down his coffee and appeared disgusted.
“Obviously, I’m not getting through to anyone here, so I’ll be in touch.”
Vaughn left the kitchen and headed from the house. Dina appeared in the doorway as Vaughn left, stared after him, and then looked at Casey.
“Is this a bad time?” Dina asked.
“When Sheriff Holt stops by, it’s always a bad time,” Casey muttered.
Dina approached her near the island counter, eyed Diesel without his shirt, and appeared amazed. “Oh, wow--” she said softly to Casey. “Thanks, but I didn’t get you anything.”
Casey snorted a laugh. That was the standard reaction to Diesel without his shirt on. At least he wore shorts. His willingness to strut around in his brief underwear was quickly shutdown by Ruger a long time ago. There were just some things no man wanted to see first thing in the morning. A muscle-bound man in briefs sporting morning wood was high on that list.
Dina’s look turned more serious. “Can we talk?”
Casey nodded to the kitchen door. Dina left the kitchen with Casey, only briefly glancing back at Diesel on the way out. They walked onto the porch and sat on the recently restored rocking chairs. Casey glared past the porch to the sheriff’s blazer that remained parked out front. Vaughn was standing alongside his blazer in the driveway while talking to Grey with his box of doughnuts. Dina noted Casey’s cold stare at the sheriff. Dina tensed and shifted in her chair.
<
br /> “Why didn’t you call or write?” Dina finally asked, breaking Casey out of her death stare at the sheriff. “I thought I was your best friend.”
As Casey stared at Dina, her expression softened, and she lowered her head. Things were more complicated than she could possibly explain. “I was in a very bad place for quite some time,” she said softly and drifted into her own thoughts.
An image of Casey and Grey arguing flashed through her mind, although their words were inaudible. Casey suddenly punched Grey in the mouth. He clutched his bleeding mouth and looked at her with the horror evident in his eyes. Casey snapped out of her daze, avoided looking at Dina, and fidgeted.
“When I finally sorted out my life, it just seemed like too much time had passed,” Casey replied gently.
“I wanted to help you. I was here for you,” Dina said sternly. She suddenly appeared defeated, looked down, and spoke more softly. “They were like parents to me too.”
Casey could only stare at Dina. It pained her to know she caused such turmoil for her longtime best friend. She finally shifted in her chair and avoided looking at her friend.
“I’m really sorry, Dina. I was just angry.”
Angry was an understatement. She was insane with anger and consumed with grief. Only one thing kept her focused, and that’s what brought her back to Darwood Falls. Dina again spoke, snapping Casey back to reality.
“I would have taken anger over nothing,” Dina replied then inhaled deeply and attempted a tiny smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re back, even if I am still mad at you.” She then appeared curious and attempted to hide her smile. “So what’s the deal with the living god in there? Are you and he--?” She lustfully raised her brows in suggestion. “--you know.”
Casey suddenly laughed. “No, he’s a free agent,” she replied then appeared to give it some thought and added, “and he’s kind of a whore.”
“Yeah, but--who cares,” Dina said while grinning. “With a guy like that, one night is more than enough.”
Town Darling Page 10
