by B. T. Lord
“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
He shrugged. “At first I didn’t take it seriously. I was always getting all kinds of crazy notes when I played. Fans get way too emotionally involved, especially when a team loses. But tonight’s note was different. Not only was it in my house, but it was the first one to made a direct threat.”
Cammie studied his face, calling on her instincts to tell her if he was lying. Eli calmly raised his eyes and met hers. “I’m not screwing with you, Cammie. I’m serious.”
He was. She could see it. And feel it. She slowly let out her breath. “I’ll get the Explorer and follow you over.”
“I can drive you.”
She shook her head. “Not a good idea.”
He smiled mirthlessly. “That’s right. I’d end up having two people wanting me dead.”
Cammie frowned. “Jace would never hurt you. He’s just--” Her words trailed off.
“Yeah, I know. If I had a woman like you, I’d fight for her too.”
Cammie rolled her eyes, hating the syrupy statement that she knew was untrue. She quickly opened the door and stepped out. Before she shut the door, she looked at him. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot behind HQ.”
“I’ll wait here and drive you over. It’s too cold to walk.”
“Eli, for God’s sakes –“
“Cammie, you’ve been shivering ever since you got into the Navigator. Stop being so damned hardheaded and let me at least drive you to your truck. I’m sure Junior could understand that.”
“If you continue to call him Junior, you’ll have three people wanting you dead.”
Before he could respond, she slammed the door and hurried across the street into Zee’s.
Inside, she found Jace downing a bottle of beer. She quickly took in the two empties already there, not including the two they’d shared that evening. What the hell? She’d only been gone five minutes!
Her stomach unconsciously clenched. Jace wasn’t much of a drinker. Two beers were his limit. In a place where alcoholism was widespread in hopes it would make the long winters more bearable, Jace was an anomaly. It had been one of his attractions for her. Memories, all of them bad, raced through her mind. Her father’s drunken silences, Harlan’s alcohol fueled rages. All the warm and loving feelings she’d felt earlier that night instantly evaporated.
“You’re goin’ to his house, aren’t you?” he said accusatorily, his expression glassy, his words slurring.
She sighed. “Yes, I’m going over there.”
Torment filled his eyes. She took a deep breath and leaned over him, wondering if her words would penetrate his beer soaked brain. “He’s been getting threatening notes. I need to go check it out. I’ll be back in an hour, tops.”
“Why didn’t he bring them here?”
“He was so frightened, he came straight to town looking for me.” He harrumphed, clearly indicating how little he believed her statement. She rested her hand on his arm. “Jace, try to understand. What if these notes are real? What if something happened to him?”
He slowly turned until his bloodshot eyes met hers. “And that would be a bad thing?” He angrily ran his fingers through his hair, leaving his bangs askew. Cammie resisted the urge to pat them down. “He’s luring you over there, you know. Can’t you see that he’s still in love with you?”
“Eli has been and will always be in love with Eli.”
“Send Rick. He can go get these notes.” He reached over and covered her hand with his. “We can then finish what we started.”
She knew what he was referring to. And she wanted to. So very much. But she couldn’t.
“I’m the sheriff, not Rick. It’s my responsibility.”
He angrily shook his head as he snatched his hand away. “Cammie, people here don’t give a shit that you’re a woman. They all know you’re a good sheriff. The only person you’re so busy trying to prove it to is yourself. When are you going to stop fighting a battle that you won a long time ago?”
Cammie was stunned. And speechless. Not knowing what to say, she slowly straightened. As she withdrew her hand from his arm, he suddenly grabbed her fingers and held on tightly.
“So you go and do what you have to do and prove to yourself once more that you’re a good sheriff. That you’re only doing your job. That this is what you were elected to do.” He abruptly let go of her hand and rose unsteadily to his feet. “But just know one thing. I’m not waiting here all night for you. You said one hour. Okay, one hour. I’ll even give you an additional fifteen minutes. But anything after that, all bets are off.” He grabbed his parka and flung it over his shoulder. “I’m going to play pool.”
He turned his back to her and walked erratically towards the back room.
A slew of emotions flooded Cammie. Astonishment at his words, anger at his belligerently macho attitude and fear that what he’d said might actually be true. With a heavy heart, she plastered a neutral look on her face and slowly made her through the dancing couples, past the increasingly questioning glances and out into the frigidly cold night.
Cammie remained silent as Eli drove her to her vehicle. Eli, sensing her mood, wisely kept silent as well. Reaching the Explorer, she hopped out of the Navigator, ran into her truck and was soon following Eli out of town, trying her best not to hear Jace’s accusations playing over and over in her head. It was a losing battle.
Carolyn Haskell felt the darkness she thought she’d long ago left behind rise up, slowly creeping over her flat stomach, her double D breasts, her hard toned limbs, until it reached her heart. There, it turned foul and fetid until the rage it evoked choked her.
In a moment of lucid clarity, she realized she’d never completely killed off the fat, pimply faced Carolyn of her teenaged years. That disgusting creature had lurked just beneath the surface, hiding in the shadows, always ready to spring forward and take the new Carolyn Haskell by surprise. Now that the old Carolyn had the new Carolyn by the throat, it wasn’t going to let go that easily. It whispered in her ears, reminding her of all the insults she’d suffered when she was younger. All the broken dreams, the endless nights of bitter loneliness. What the voice of the old Carolyn couldn’t tell her was that many of those memories were of her own making. She’d stood apart from her classmates because she’d chosen to. She was lonely because she’d imposed it on herself. She’d licked her wounds of martyrdom, all the while planning for the day when she’d be able to enact her revenge on all the slights she’d built up in her head.
Because she was unable or unwilling to see the large role she’d played in her own unhappiness, she had to find the scapegoat – the one person she could pile her anger, her rage, her self-loathing on. That person outside herself whom she could blame for everything bad – large and small – that had happened in her life.
All roads led to Cammie Farnsworth. Even during the years when Cammie lived away from Twin Ponds, the hatred continued, festering unseen in Carolyn’s heart. When she’d suddenly returned and worse, when she’d been elected sheriff, the hatred resurfaced, ready at a moment’s notice to boil over. Today, it had finally been released in all its ferocity.
The good student, the excellent hockey player, the confident girl who’d risen above her own trials and tribulations mocked Carolyn. Just as she always had. But things were different now. Carolyn was no longer the helpless, fat teenager who couldn’t get out of her own way. No, it was time to finally bury fat Carolyn. Put her out of her misery and send her into oblivion. The only way she was going to do that was to send Cammie Farnsworth into that same hole. Bury the both of them together, throw the dirt on them, tamp it down and walk away, no longer encumbered by either.
Jace had no clue what time it was. Had one hour passed? Two? Maybe even three? Somewhere in his alcoholic haze, he vaguely remembered giving Cammie some sort of time limit on how long he’d wait for her. But that seemed so long ago. Where was he anyway?
He looked about and found himself perched on one of the stool
s, idly watching a group of his hockey teammates play pool. Squinting his eyes, he realized he was still at Zee’s.
Glancing down, he saw what looked like a forest of empty beer bottles in front of him. There was also what looked suspiciously like a martini glass. He leaned closer to it and sniffed at the rim. Oh yeah. His buddies had bought him an Apple-tini. Or was it a Chocolate-tini? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was that it was some sort of tini, whatever that was. He did remember how smoothly it had gone down. In no time at all, his head was swimming, his eyes were unfocused and he was finding it increasingly difficult not to slide off the stool onto the floor.
Slowly, bits and pieces of the evening began resurrecting themselves. Dancing with Cammie. Holding her in his arms. Picturing all the erotic things he was going to do to her once they got home. Hearing – finally – ‘I love you’ coming from her lips.
All up in smoke when that prick Kelley showed up.
Hard to believe he’d actually once admired Eli, wanting to be just like him on the ice. How many hours had he spent – wasted – on the freezing ice, in plunging temperatures, practicing his slap shot so he could be the next Eli Kelley?
He guffawed bitterly at the memory. What an asshole he was.
It didn’t matter anymore. The truth was, he’d lost as soon as Eli walked into Zee’s a few nights ago and spied his ex-girlfriend. Now that ex-girlfriend, the woman he happened to be in love with, was off in the night with the Puckmeister. Doing her job. Proving to everyone what a good sheriff she was, while he sat here on his ass, alone, getting pathetically drunk.
Christ. Could he be an even bigger idiot?
“Hey honey, you look like you’re in bad need of company.”
He swung his head around and saw a large pair of perfectly round breasts squeezed into a pink angora sweater staring him in the face.
Uh-oh.
Cammie was halfway to Eli’s when her radio went off.
“Sheriff Farnsworth here,” she answered.
“It’s Emmy. We just got a report in of a three-snowmobile pile up over on Berk’s Bluff. No fatalities, but the drivers are seriously injured. Rick is on his way over there now. We also got a two car accident out near the intersection of Mason and Brookfield. No injuries, but I could hear the drivers yelling and cursing at each other. Doesn’t sound good. Over.”
“I’ll handle the two-car. Call Doc and tell him to get over to Berk’s Bluff. Then notify Mark there’s a probable airlift to Cary Medical. Over.”
Because of Twin Ponds’ relatively small size, the largest hospital was over two hours away in Houlton. Although Doc was an excellent doctor, there were times when more was called for. Mark Nelsson was a local who’d learned how to fly helicopters during the Gulf War and spent twenty additional years flying rescue missions for the Coast Guard. He now supplemented his income as a wilderness guide by continuing to act as a rescue pilot, a much needed commodity in the dense forests that surrounded Twin Ponds. If the accident was as bad as Emmy indicated, Mark would need to fly the victims to Cary Medical as soon as possible. And unfortunately listen to Doc bitch the whole way back and forth. Great doctor, lousy flier.
Cammie frowned as she hung up the radio. Damn, this was going to make a long night even longer. She reluctantly put on her flashing lights and signaled Eli to stop. Bracing herself against the cold, she dashed out of her Explorer and jogged over to the Navigator.
“I just got a call on a fender bender. There are no fatalities, but if I don’t get there, the drivers may end up killing each other. I’ll get to your place as soon as I’m done.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“It will be easier to handle without you there. It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so.”
She could tell Eli was reluctant to leave her. What was it lately that men were suddenly deciding they needed to go and protect her, as if she couldn’t do her -- Cammie abruptly veered her mind away as echoes of Jace’s words came back to haunt her.
“Just go home, Eli. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done,” she replied, her lips already growing numb with cold.
“And if my murderer is waiting for me?” Cammie sighed with frustration. Eli took note and waved his hand at her. “Never mind. I’ll find something to defend myself with. Go do what you have to do.”
She turned on her heel and hurried back to her vehicle. Turning on the siren, she pulled a U-turn and sped away in the opposite direction. With one hand on the steering wheel, she punched the speed dial button for Jace’s cell and waited for him to pick up.
Through the alcoholic fog that refused to lift, Jace felt the tingling touch of someone tracing a line over the back of his hand. He glanced down and saw it belonged to a long, fire red fingernail. He didn’t need to look further to see who was leaning up against him, suffocating his nostrils with the aroma of musky perfume.
“Hello Carolyn,” he managed to say past a tongue that was suddenly too thick for his mouth.
Carolyn glanced at the empty beer bottles and martini glass in front of Jace and inwardly smiled. She leaned against Jace and placing her hand on his upper thigh, gave it an affectionate squeeze.
“What do you say we get out of here and go someplace quiet?” she whispered in his ear.
Jace felt the pressure of her breasts against his arm and the heat of her hand near his crotch. A small voice told him to push her away and keep pushing until she disappeared. But the warning went unheeded as images of Cammie and Eli frolicked before his blurred vision. If Cammie could go off with the fucking Puckmeister, he could go off with Carolyn. Fair was fair.
“What do you have in mind?” he said before hiccupping in her face.
She bit back the sigh of disgust, forcing her features to remain seductively alluring. So the town jock was a cheap drunk. She could live with that. Just as she could live with the incredibly good luck in finding Jace so susceptible. A quote she’d once read in one of her romance novels came to mind. Revenge is best served cold.
How right they were.
“Come home with me and find out.”
She wondered if he’d refuse. Just as she was calculating how many more beers she’d need to ply him with before she could bend him to her will, he leaned over and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”
He jumped off the stool and collided with her, almost knocking them both to the floor. She instantly threw her arm around his waist to steady him.
“Take it easy, hot shot. You don’t want to kill us,” she laughed.
As she leaned him up against a nearby table, she felt a presence at her elbow. Turning, she saw the concerned face of one of his teammates.
“Hey, Jace, why don’t you let us take you home?” he asked, warily eying Carolyn.
“I’m fine, Hank.”
“It’s no problem, really. We’re done here and –“
Jace suddenly reached out with his arm and threw it around Carolyn’s shoulder, pulling her roughly to him. “I’m busy. You too blind to see that?”
Although Hank was built like a tank and actually had the nickname ‘Hank the Tank’, his respect for his team captain outweighed the fact that he could easily take Jace on drunk or sober. He put his hands up and backed off.
“Whatever, bro,” he replied.
“Come on, Carolyn. We got things to do.” He gave her an unsteady wink. Carolyn wiggled out of his iron grip and proceeded to get his parka on him. Just as she was zipping it up, she heard his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. She glanced at him, but he appeared oblivious to it. She surreptitiously eased it out of his pocket and peeked at the screen. It was Cammie. She promptly turned the phone off, dropped it back into his pocket and together they left the poolroom.
Cammie listened as Jace’s cell rang several times before being bounced into voicemail. Thinking he might not have heard the phone over the loud music in Zee’s, she speed dialed again. This time the call went immediately into voicemail. She was about to dial Zee and ask him to fetch Jace to the phone when it occurr
ed to her that Jace was, in all likelihood, deliberately ignoring her phone call. He was probably still angry and had turned off his phone in a childish attempt to punish her for going over to Eli’s.
“Well, screw you too,” she fumed as she jammed her phone into her pocket and gunned the Explorer towards the accident scene.
Ninety minutes later, an angry Eli climbed back into his Navigator and headed towards town. Cammie had said one hour. What the hell could be taking her so long? It was a simple fender bender. It shouldn’t be taking this much time to sort the whole thing out.
There was only one reason she hadn’t shown up yet. And that reason was the insipid boy toy she’d been stupid enough to involve herself with. She’d probably gone back to Zee’s to soothe the brat’s fragile ego. Christ, what was she thinking? Had she really been that lonely to shack up with that punk ass kid?
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. No matter the reason, he wasn’t going to allow Junior to screw up his plans. Not with Cammie. And definitely not tonight.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Cammie fought to maintain her composure. She wouldn’t lose control. Not here. Not in front of Jace and certainly not in front of Rick.
She felt their eyes on her. Jace’s accusatory; Rick’s quiet and non-judgmental.
What to say?
Jace was right. She had left him at Zee’s so she could come here last night. She probably had been, with the exception of the murderer, the last person to see Eli alive.
There were good, valid reasons for that. And she would do it all again if she had to.
No, that wasn’t quite true. There was something she would have changed. Something that, in her explanation to Rick earlier that morning of what had occurred between her and Eli the night before, she’d deliberately left out.
It was a little piece of information no one would know of unless she chose to bring it up. An impossibility. Because she knew if she took that memory out and looked at it, it would add more sorrow to the burden she already carried.
