by Ann Mullen
Billy came back to the room, walked over to Denise, and then slapped her across the face so hard, she and the chair went crashing to the floor. “I heard what you said. That was for my mother.”
Blood ran down the corner of her mouth as Billy snatched her back upright. He grabbed the hand towel off the table, wiped the blood from her mouth, and then handed it to me. “DNA… just in case.”
I took the towel, put it in a zip-lock bag, and then tossed it in the refrigerator. Of course, we no longer needed her DNA, but she didn’t know that.
Billy’s hands were trembling. Denise’s confession about what she tried to do to his mother had gotten him riled, more so than I’d ever seen. It was all he could do to refrain from putting her down. If he ever wanted to kill someone, now was the time, and she was the one.
I touched Billy’s arm. “It’s over. She can’t hurt anyone anymore.”
We heard the sirens before we saw the flashing lights. The sheriff was here to take Denise Sutton away. She would be locked up and never be able to cause trouble again. I’m sure the relief showed on our faces when Sheriff Hudson and his deputies walked through the front door with their guns drawn. His men surrounded Denise while Deputy Cole James guarded the door. She was not going to escape again.
Deputy Cole James was my ex-boyfriend, my sister’s ex-boyfriend, and now Savannah Kelly’s boyfriend. I harbored no hard feelings toward him. He had come into my life at just the right time, and faded into the background the same way. We had remained friends.
“Put your gun down, Jesse, before you shoot someone.” The sheriff lowered his weapon, walked over, and relieved me of mine. “The last thing we need is you with a gun.”
“I was guarding our prisoner. I guess Billy filled you in on what happened here, huh? I told you she was coming to our house, didn’t I? You were so sure she hadn’t escaped the hospital, but you were wrong. She came here to kill me, and if anyone had gotten in her way, she would’ve killed them, too. She’s a stone-cold killer, Sheriff. I can’t wait for you to hear her story.”
The sheriff looked around the room as one of his deputies removed the duct tape and pulled Denise up from the chair. Sheriff Hudson hesitated for a second. “Whose knife is that on the table?”
“That’s Billy’s, why?”
“Where’s her weapon?”
“What weapon? She didn’t have one.”
“How was she going to kill anyone without a weapon… talk you to death?”
“She tried to.”
“What? Talk you to death?”
The deputy removed the handcuffs and handed them back to Billy, giving him a dirty look. “Where’d you get these cuffs? Steal `em?”
“Bought `em off the home shopping network,” Billy joked.
In the split second it took the deputy to pull out his cuffs, Denise lunged forward, grabbed the knife from the table and plunged it into Sheriff Hudson’s back. One quick jab and he fell to the floor. She stood there with the knife raised, blood dripping from the blade.
Deputy James fired one round, hitting her right between the eyes. Her head snapped back and she went down. The party was truly over for Denise Sutton—a.k.a— Dakota Stone. She lay dead on the dining room floor.
I was shaking and overcome with panic. I squatted down on my knees and pressed my hand to the sheriff’s back to stop the flow of blood as it soaked through the tear in his jacket. I had no idea how far the blade had gone in, but prayed it hadn’t been deep enough to kill him.
“She didn’t come here to kill anyone,” the sheriff gasped. “She came here to be killed. No weapon.”
“Shh… save your energy. The ambulance’s on its way. You’re going to be fine.”
Sheriff Wake Hudson closed his eyes for the last time.
Epilogue
I sat on the floor, holding the sheriff’s body, and crying. I thought about all the times we’d been at each other’s throats, and regretted the part I had played. He was gone and I’d never be able to tell him how much I liked him… how much I admired him. He was a good man, and a good sheriff. He’d given me a run for my money, but I’d also given it right back. Now… that was in the past. It was too late to tell him how I felt about him… how much I appreciated his saving my mother’s life on that dark, stormy night, or that I knew he’d kept us out of jail when we should’ve been locked up. We’d done a few things… broken a few laws… done the stuff he wanted to do, but couldn’t. What I wouldn’t give to have one more chance to tell him how sorry I was for being such a pain in his butt, or for the times I had lied to him. At least he died knowing Billy and I were the good guys. Of that, I was sure.
And then, he stirred.
I was so startled, I let go of him and fell back on my rear end, shock sucking the breath from my lungs. When I realized he wasn’t dead, I grabbed him again and hugged him as tight as I could. I didn’t want to let go. I was afraid if I did, he really would die on me.
“Hey, pressure to my wound, remember? You want me to die here on your floor?”
I released my grip and put my hand to his back. Blood was still flowing, still running from the tear in his jacket, but at least he was alive.
“You had me scared there for a minute, Sheriff. Thought you were dead.”
“Never thought I’d see the day you’d have your arms wrapped around me. You got a thing for me, or something, Jesse? I always figured you did,” he teased.
“Yeah, in your dreams, pal. Stop talking or I might just have to kill you myself.”
We looked at each other and smiled.
I should’ve known the sheriff wasn’t dead. When a person dies, the eyelids don’t close. They stay open. It’s not like you see in the movies. You can’t run your fingers over a person’s eyes to get them to stay closed. They just pop back open. When preparing a body for a funeral, the mortician glues the eyelids shut to keep them that way.
When notified that Sheriff Hudson was down, every emergency service for fifty miles or more came to the rescue. Two fire trucks even showed up. I guess he was right when he said they all stick together… have each other’s backs, because they sure came through for him. He was prepped for transportation and on the move within minutes after their arrival.
An hour later, the medical examiner and the crime scene technicians had completed their tasks and were on their way, taking Denise Sutton’s body with them. I was glad when the last one of them left. It had been a tense and frightful day.
After soaking up blood from the floor with paper towels and then mopping over the spot, Helene took to scrubbing the blood spatter and what looked like brain matter off the wall. It was a disgusting sight, one that I didn’t want to ever see again, let alone be the one who cleaned up the mess. I gagged every time I looked at the wall.
“Billy, you might have to paint over this stain. I can’t get it all out. I’ve wiped and wiped, but there’s still a brown spot.”
“Yeah, I kinda figured that. I’ve got some paint in the garage that ought to cover it.” He walked over to where I was standing by the sink. “You okay, `ge ya? You haven’t said much.”
“I’ve been trying to wash his blood off me, but I can’t get it out from under my fingernails.” Tears rose in my eyes and promised to spill over. Once the first tear fell, the gate opened. “When I thought Wake was dead, I had that same sad, horrifying feeling like I had when Daniel died… as if I’d lost one of my own. It was awful, Billy. Then, I thought about my dad, and that empty feeling wouldn’t go away.”
“Here, let me help you.” Billy reached down, grabbed a small brush from the cabinet, and then tenderly held my hand as he scrubbed under the fingernails. After doing the same to the other hand, he held both of my hands under the running water. The blood washed away.
I pulled a bunch of paper towels from the roll and started wiping. “Thanks, I needed that. You always know how to make me feel better.” I hugged him, and then kissed him on the cheek.
My cell phone rang, and when I picked it up and
looked at the screen, Sheriff Hudson’s name appeared. “It’s the sheriff! I don’t believe it. What’s he doing calling me? He should be in surgery.”
Helene stopped what she was doing. “Answer it, Jesse! It might not be the sheriff. He could’ve died and someone’s calling to tell us.”
I frowned. “Don’t say that! He’s not dead, is he, Billy?”
“We won’t know until you answer the call.”
Nervously, I said, “Hello, this is Jesse. Is that you, Sheriff?”
His voice was raspy and he sounded as if he’d been drugged. “Yes, it’s me. I called to say thanks. The doctor said what you did helped to save my life. I could’ve bled out right there on your floor, but thanks to you, I’ll live to continue the fight.”
“I hope you mean continue the fight of right and wrong and your police force, not the fight between me and you.”
I could almost see the smile on his face.
“Yeah, that’s what I mean.” He coughed.
“Are you all right? You sound rough.”
“Man… my shoulder’s gonna hurt tomorrow, but for right now, they’ve got me doped up, and I’m not feeling any pain. They’re going to fix me up and then send me home to recuperate, but I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“That sounds like a threat. You say thanks, and then leave me with that?”
“It wasn’t a threat, but we do need to talk.”
“Yeah, I guess we do. Just keep in mind that I saved your life. You owe me.”
He coughed, laughed, and then disconnected.
Helene smiled and walked over to me. “See, Jesse, the sheriff likes you. He took the time to call to let you know he’s okay. That says something.”
“It’s what he didn’t say that bothers me.” I looked at Billy. “He said he’d be seeing us soon. What do you think that means?”
“I think you know what it means, but don’t worry, I don’t think he’s going to arrest us. You heard him. He said you helped save his life. He won’t ever forget what you did for him.”
Helene walked over to the front window. “Did you look outside? The emergency vehicles cleared a path in the snow all the way down the driveway. I guess that won’t last long since it’s still snowing. At least the thunder and lightning quit. Haven’t heard a peep for a while.”
I glanced over to the window, and then looked back at Billy. “I have this nagging feeling he’s going to do something we won’t like.”
“As long as he doesn’t arrest us, how bad could it be? We’re tough. We can take it as long as he doesn’t put us out of business.”
We stared at each other.
“Hmm… so what do we do now? Where do we go from here?”
Billy raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. “We pick up the pieces and move on.”
So… that’s what we were going to do. The blood had been cleaned up, and everything appeared to be normal, except for the leftover tan discoloration on the wall that would have to be painted over. Blood spatter is a strange thing. You can never really get rid of it. You can scrub as hard as you can using every cleaning agent known to man, and you can paint over it, but it will always remain there, hidden in the background. Turn the lights off and spray luminal, and the blood pattern will light up like a Christmas tree, regardless of any effort to cover over it. This brought to mind the other time we had to clean up a pool of blood. I was sure traces of that blood had seeped through the hardwood slats and would remain there indefinitely.
“Can we come out now?” Maisy stood in the hallway. “We heard a loud boom and Ethan’s scared. He’s crying, Mom.” Ethan stood behind her, cowering.
The loud boom they had heard was obviously the gunshot that had put Denise Sutton down, not thunder like they had thought.
Helene went to her. “Bless your hearts. The storm’s over, so there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. Come on, you two. I’m going to fix you some dinner.”
Maisy and Ethan walked into the dining room followed by Athena and Thor, who were shaking almost as much as the kids.
Once we had soothed the kids’ fears, Helene went about rustling up some grub, and then I walked to the hallway to call Mom. I filled her in on what had transpired here in the last couple of hours, and then told her she could come home. The threat was over and everyone was safe now.
A few minutes later, Mom and Eddie came rushing through the front door. They had their share of questions, but they were put on hold until dinner was over and the kids were put to bed. After the kids were out of the room, Mom and Eddie fired questions at us. They had missed the scene and wanted to know every detail.
Billy explained in length about what had gone down here, and when he had finished his account, Mom had a concerned look on her face.
“What about Sheriff Hudson?”
“He’s going to be fine, Minnie. He already called to say thanks to Jesse for saving his life.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, Billy Blackhawk, and you know it. I’m glad the sheriff’s going to make it, but what happens when he recovers? Is he coming after us? Are we going to jail? I don’t think I’d fare well in jail. As a matter of fact, we’re thinking about giving up the snooping business. It’s just too dangerous.”
“That might be a good idea. I’m sorry we ever dragged you into it. You should be at home, playing with your grandchildren, not running around like a bunch of lunatics… like we do.” Billy looked at me. “Perhaps it’s time to change the way we operate.”
Mom grinned. “That’s not going to happen. You can’t change who you are, and you don’t want to. You’ll go on doing what you do, except maybe from now on you’ll be a little bit more cautious about how you approach a situation. Stop taking so many chances. And… by the way, you didn’t drag us into it. We volunteered, remember?”
I looked at Mom. “Well, your services are no longer needed. I have enough to worry about without having to worry about your safety.”
Billy chuckled. “At this point, our future as private investigators is debatable. We might have to retire. We broke our agreement with the sheriff, committed a couple of questionable acts in the process, and have obstructed his justice. If we do manage to stay out of jail, I doubt very seriously Sheriff Hudson’s gonna let us continue to practice. He’ll have our licenses yanked.”
“Can he do that?”
“He can’t actually do it, but he can make it happen.”
“What will you do then?”
“We are not without other talents.” Billy smiled. “We’ll come up with something.”
I laughed. “Maybe Jonathan will put us on his payroll.”
Mom glared at me. “As bounty hunters? Are you nuts? No way—no how. I won’t allow it, and I mean it! Jonathan’s told me more freaky tales than I care to hear about. If you and Billy join up with him and start busting down doors, hunting for bail-jumpers or what not, Eddie and I will pack up and move to Florida. I won’t stand by and watch you…”
“Easy, Mom. I wasn’t serious. My body has taken enough beatings as it is. Besides, Jonathan doesn’t just track down bail-jumpers. He has gone after some of the most violent criminals imaginable. Thanks, but no thanks. I’m still waiting for my face to get back to normal.”
Billy got up from the table and walked to the kitchen. “I’m going to have a bourbon, straight up. Anybody interested?”
Like school children, we all raised our hands, and then waited for Billy to pour the drinks.
He wouldn’t give me one, so I got up from the table, walked over to my purse, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I walked to the kitchen, turned on the stove fan, and lit up.
Mom turned up her nose. “Now, that’s nasty. Do you have to smoke inside?” She looked at me with that evil look of hers. “I thought you quit.”
“I did… four or five times. Sorry, Mom, but I’m a drug addict. Nicotine has a hold on me and is never going to let go.”
“Malarkey. You could quit if you tried.”
Billy poured
another round, and then looked at me. “Sorry, `ge ya. Drugs and alcohol don’t mix. I say we all get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day. Besides, they don’t serve alcohol in jail.”
Helene grunted. “That’s not funny, Billy.”
A third glass did the trick. We retired for the night.
By morning we were all moving a little slower. Perhaps that last glass of bourbon had been one glass too many. Helene handed out aspirin with the coffee to those who needed it.
“My head feels awful,” Mom said. “Remind me to never drink anything ever again. All I want to do is go back to bed.”
“Me, too, Minnie,” Eddie added. “I feel like someone hit me upside the head with a hammer.”
Helene, being her usual bouncy self, followed up the coffee with a glass of tomato juice. “Hair of the dog. Drink up. You’ll feel much better if you do.”
“Don’t need it, Helene. I feel fine. No hangover.” Billy handed the glass back to her. “It takes more than three drinks to do me in. Remember, I’m heap, big warrior. I can drink you guys under the table, before it affects me.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I’ve seen you in action.”
Mom sniffed her glass of tomato juice. “What’s in this? It smells like bourbon. I’m not drinking this junk.” She pushed the glass aside.
“It’s not bourbon, Minnie. Its a little concoction I put together, so drink up.”
“It smells like bourbon.”
“Everything’s gonna smell like bourbon after last night. Trust me. There’s no bourbon in it.”
After we downed our tomato juice, Helene retrieved the glasses.
“Geez, Helene,” I said. “You put Vodka in it.”
“Yep, it’s a real cure-all. Feel better already, don’t you?”
