by Mary Coley
When she looked over at the vehicle, the driver grinned.
Mandy pressed the brake pedal to drop back as the approaching semi neared. But the sedan slowed, too. She tapped her brakes. The big car matched her pace.
The approaching semi-tractor trailer driver laid on his horn. Mandy panicked. The sedan would not let her back over.
Mandy swerved to the left shoulder and off the pavement into the dirt. The semi blew past, horn blaring as she skidded to a stop.
Dust swirled around the vehicle. When it had settled, the big sedan that had forced her off the road was parked yards ahead on the opposite shoulder.
A car topped the distant hill. As it grew closer, the blinking lights on the top of the black and white car came on. It pulled in and parked at an angle beside her.
The sedan on the opposite shoulder eased back onto the road and drove on.
Mandy jumped from her car and hurried to the officer as he got out of his vehicle. One of his hands rested on the butt of his pistol.
“That guy tried to run me off the road,” she shouted, pointing down the highway.
The patrolman glanced at the retreating vehicle and shrugged. “You’re parked on the wrong side of the road, Miss. I’m going to have to cite you for that.”
“The man in that car wouldn’t let me pass. Then he wouldn’t let me pull back into the lane. A truck was coming. I had no choice but to pull over to this shoulder. It was that or die in a head-on collision.”
“Please return to your vehicle. I need to see your license, proof of insurance, and registration.”
Exasperated, Mandy led the officer back to her car. She stretched across the passenger seat to the glove box for the requested documents. The dog watched with big eyes. “Seriously, sir, the man tried to make me have a wreck. He should be the one who receives a citation.”
The policeman studied her, shone his flashlight at the dog, into the backseat, and around the car’s interior. “Wait a moment, please.”
He returned to his patrol car with her documents. Mandy waited. Her cell phone rang.
“That was lucky,” a man’s voice said.
“What?” Her blood froze.
“The cop. Lucky for you. It should have ended there, with you dead.” With a click, the call disconnected.
She touched the call back button with trembling fingers. The message screen read Number not available.
“Did you get the license number?” The police officer leaned over to peer into the window. She jerked. “The tag number of the vehicle playing cat and mouse with you. Did you get it?”
“Of course not! I was too shook up. And he just called me on my cell phone.” Her voice squeaked.
“Must be someone you know. Did you recognize his voice or get a look at him?”
“No.”
The radio clipped to his shoulder crackled and he stepped away.
He tapped on the side of the car door. “I’m going to let you off the hook. Sounds like you have a problem. If I were you, I’d get off the highway for the night. You can follow me into Medicine Park. Flash your lights if you see the vehicle.” He glanced at the dog and smiled. “My girlfriend has a goldendoodle. Smart. What’s his name?”
Mandy glanced at the dog. Name? To name him would mean he was hers. If he wasn’t hers, whose was he? She said the first thing that came to mind. He was big and white. “Moby.”
“Like the whale. I like it.”
Hands shaking, Mandy followed the policeman back onto the highway. She focused on the cruiser’s taillights trying not to think about what could have happened out on the road with the truck if she had not pulled off. She glanced down every side road as they neared the small town. She shivered despite the hot air outside the car. She rolled down her windows.
In Medicine Park, the patrol car turned down a street and parked in front of the small police station.
As the policeman walked toward the station, she called to him. “Can you suggest a place to stay?”
“Straight on in town there’s a small motel and cabins to rent. Not the big chain operations, but clean. And they won’t care about Moby if you’re only staying one night. You didn’t see the car as we came into town?”
Mandy shook her head.
“Maybe the guy had enough cat and mouse.” He walked over and handed her a business card. “Call if anything happens tonight, or if you spot his vehicle. Highway games are dangerous.”
She read his card and shoved it into the unused ashtray on her console.
“Thanks, Officer Findley. I appreciate it.” She drove away from the station, still glancing down alleys and side streets, looking for the dark sedan that had run her off the road. When she saw a sign advertising cobblestone cabins, she turned in.
At the office, she paid for one night’s stay in a tiny cabin. The clerk, an older bald man wearing coveralls, smiled at Moby.
“Your dog well-behaved?” he asked as he handed her the key to her cabin.
“Never had any trouble with him chewing anything he shouldn’t.” The man had no way of knowing she’d known the dog less than 24 hours.
After parking in front of the tiny cabin, she snapped the leash onto Moby’s collar and let him sniff around the landscaping while she noted the unusual red cobblestones that made up the cabin’s exterior walls. The air was quiet and still, and at least 90 degrees. Hairs rose on the back of her neck. Was someone watching her?
She rushed back to her cabin. Moby trotted in behind her, jumped onto the bed, circled, and lay down. She pushed the deadbolt into place, latched the chain, and fell onto the queen-size bed beside the dog. Her hands trembled.
What had she gotten herself into? Someone had tried to kill her.
~ Chapter 22 ~
Will
Will closed the door to his hotel room and sat on the bed. He was still unsettled by his last conversation with Mandy. Despite what he wanted her to do—had insisted she do—she was going right ahead with her plan to find and rescue Jenna.
What was it with her? Was a friendship so dear to her she’d begin a dangerous rescue mission with no preparation?
Mandy had no idea what she might be getting herself into.
He and Sean had talked about what might happen if Jenna realized her cover was about to be blown.
Of course, she didn’t know they both knew who she really was. That would have defeated the purpose of the charade all three of them were playing. But now Mandy had intruded, and the game was heading in a direction they had not foreseen.
He pushed a button on his cell phone. The screen read, “Calling Mandy.”
“Hello?” she sighed.
“Where are you? What’s happening? I thought you were going to call?” The words exploded from his throat, and he wished he could erase them from the airwaves, as if they’d been written on a dry erase board.
“Sorry, I just arrived. A jerk tried to run me off the road on my way here. I followed a policeman into town.”
“This is insane. You’re making me crazy.” And she was. He was bonkers. He’d never expected to begin to care for her so much, to want to protect her, to love her. How had this happened?
To a certain extent, he was in control of his emotions, as he tried to stay in control of everything he did, and said, and even thought. But with Mandy, it wasn’t easy. At first, he’d been just going along, wanting to provide part of a couple Sean and Jenna could interact with. But things had changed. It had become something more.
“Have you heard from Sean?” Mandy asked.
Initially, Will had insisted there was nothing to worry about with Sean. The short voice mail from Sean gave nothing he could share. “When I call his cell, I get his message. The house phone has been disconnected.”
“You finally agree with me this is odd?”
“He’s done this before. They’ve suddenly decided to move someplace else, and Jenna has gone along with it. He doesn’t have to check in with me for approval. Tulsa is the only place we’ve lived in the sa
me town since college.”
Will scratched an imaginary itch on the back of his neck. He would feel better about all of this if he had talked to Sean. The message Sean had left him this morning had told him little.
“Okay. You’ve said that before.” Her voice sounded lonely and sad. “Maybe I’m wrong to have come here. Maybe I should have flown to Toronto to be with you. Maybe I should be back in Tulsa looking for an apartment we could share.”
Panic surged through Will’s brain. This was not the way he wanted the conversation to go. He wanted Mandy to stay in Tulsa and mind her own business. It would be a disaster if she flew to Toronto. “Go home to Tulsa, Mandy. Wait for me there.”
“Can you think of anything that might help me? Did Sean ever talk about Jenna’s past or mention any secrets she was keeping?”
She was ignoring his advice. He heard the earnestness in her voice. It speared right through the walls he’d built. He took a deep swallow before he lied again. “He didn’t know much about what happened with her parents or her sister other than that the parents died so she was an orphan.”
“So, she did have a sister. What happened to her?”
“Sean told me Jenna hadn’t seen or heard from her sister in twenty years.” At least that wasn’t a lie.
“Maybe the painting sent Jenna a message about her sister?”
That painting of the glass coffin was a problem. He couldn’t figure out where the painting fit in, or why it had frightened Jenna so much. Maybe Sean knew, but since they hadn’t talked… He had to continue to believe that within a few days, he’d hear from his friend. “You saw the picture. Did it send you a message?”
“Someone is in danger. Someone who looks a lot like Jenna. What if it wasn’t Jenna, but her sister? What if it meant her sister was in trouble? Maybe she’s running to help and not running away.”
“She could have read something into the picture, whether that was its purpose or not. It could be a sicko’s fantasy.” He hoped what he was saying was true. He liked Jenna. She was the perfect balance to Sean. They both tolerated each other’s secrets. Will still wasn’t sure Mandy could handle his secrets. “I don’t want you to stay down there alone. I’m worried about what you might find. Go back to Tulsa tomorrow.”
He heard a whine in his voice, which he didn’t like.
“If it’s any comfort to you, Will, I’m worried, too, and I’m being careful. Jenna asked me to come, and I’m going to follow through even though I don’t have much to go on.”
“Mandy, is there anything I can say that will convince you to drive home tomorrow?” He anticipated her answer and wondered how he was going to cope with it.
“I don’t think so. This B&B may be a dead end. I’ll have no choice but to leave. At any rate, I’ll see you Sunday.”
That was it. What he’d said had made no difference. His heart was a lump in his chest. He took a deep breath and said, “Call me tomorrow, promise?”
Part 3 - THURSDAY
~ Chapter 23 ~
Mandy
Mandy looked out of her cabin window early Thursday morning, shortly after sunrise. Only a few cars shared the parking lot with hers, and none of them were white Denalis or sedans like the one that had run her off the road last night.
“Let’s go find breakfast, Moby.” The dog’s tail wagged slowly. A drip of doggy spit rolled off the end of his tongue. She grabbed her purse and the directory listing Jandafar as a B&B and left the tiny cabin.
The August air was already warm. She rolled up her T-shirt sleeves.
Mandy strolled down the main street toward what might be a café. Patrons were sitting at outside tables. Hopefully, Moby could sit with her while she ate. She didn’t want to leave him in the motel room. No telling what the dog might do when left alone.
Was it because both she and Jenna had lost their parents that the two of them had become such close friends? Mandy wished she knew the story behind Jenna’s tragedy. Jenna had been old enough when her parents died that she’d lived on her own. What had happened to her sister? Mandy was grateful to have had her aunt in Austin and not to have been completely alone.
The last two years of high school when she’d lived with Aunt Grace, she’d been rebellious. Her aunt’s constraints were suffocating. During college, she had pushed to have her own way on more and more decisions. But she’d stayed in Austin to be near where Grace lived and worked. Taking the job in Tulsa, a nine-hour drive from Austin, had been her breakaway move. Her aunt had finally stopped trying to direct her life. She sent cards on holidays and called weekly, but she left all decisions up to Mandy and rarely berated her.
How would Grace react if she knew Mandy had quit her job to search for Jenna? Most likely, there would be panic in Grace’s voice as she asked questions. Then, silence. If Mandy didn’t comment, Grace would realize her words had no effect. The topic of conversation would change to something safe, and within a minute the phone call would end.
Like Will, Grace would want her to return to Tulsa.
Two of the outside tables were unoccupied when Mandy reached the cafe. She stepped inside and waited until someone noticed her by the Please Wait to be Seated sign. Moby sat obediently behind her.
“Hey there.” Middle-aged, dark hair streaked with a few gray strands, the waitress was still slim and healthy-looking. “I’m Nancy. Table outside is open, since you’ve got your dog with you.”
“Thanks. I’ll have coffee and a water with lemon. Two eggs over medium, bacon and biscuits, no gravy.”
“I’ll bring it out in a jiffy.”
Mandy stepped back outside and settled into a chair at one of the sidewalk tables. Moby lay at her feet. She opened the Bed and Breakfast directory and read the directions to Jandafar Hills. It was several miles west and north, an easy drive from Medicine Park. She flipped through the directory and found other lodging facilities, cabins, and cottages, in the surrounding area.
Nancy, the waitress, placed a mug in front of her.
“You worked here long?” Mandy asked, closing the directory.
“A while.” She filled Mandy’s coffee mug. “My folks moved here when I was in high school. It’s peaceful here, and this café stays busy. Tips are decent.”
The waitress worked her way down the sidewalk, checking other outside customers, refilling coffee mugs. A few minutes later she came back to Mandy. “You visiting?”
“Thinking about looking for work around here,” Mandy said. It was becoming easy to lie.
“What kind of work?”
“I’ve always thought a bed and breakfast would be a great place to work. Smaller than a motel, something along the lines of an inn, or maybe even a dude ranch. Any place like that around here you could recommend?”
Nancy quickly surveyed her tables. “There are small lodging operations here in town. Not sure anyone’s hiring. But there’s Jandafar Hills outside of town. Used to be a dude ranch. Turned B&B several years ago. Don’t know if they need any help. Summer’s winding down, but fall is still busy around here. You could try there.”
“Good people to work for?”
“I’ve never heard anything one way or another. They seem to do well in the summer. Locals use their gazebo and dining hall for parties, reunions, weddings and things. Owners are Dale and Max Hardesty. They probably wouldn’t mind if you drove out and asked about work. I might even have a flyer with their listing in the brochure rack. I’ll check.”
“Thanks.” She liked the feel of the town. Peaceful and quiet.
Minutes later, Nancy slid a plate of food in front of Mandy. “Here you go.” She handed her a double-fold flyer listing area bed and breakfast inns. “This has directions. It’s a twenty-minute drive from here, twisty road, but beautiful vistas of the Wichitas.”
“Any history about the place I ought to know? Ghosts or anything? I’m superstitious.”
“Never heard anybody talk about ghosts. Seems like a woman died on a trail ride back when it was a dude ranch. And there was a
fire out there once. I never paid much attention. Might ask the Hardestys.” Nancy tore Mandy’s bill off her order pad and handed it to her. “I’ll be your cashier.”
“Thanks.” She thought about what Nancy had told her. A woman died, and there was a fire. Did Jenna have anything to do with either event?
Mandy glanced at the brochure as she ate. It listed area lodgings, including Jandafar Hills Bed and Breakfast Inn. If she was truly looking for a job, she’d check all those places.
A white Denali with tinted windows and a chrome cattle guard maneuvered into a parking space in front of the café.
Mandy’s appetite disappeared. She nibbled a slice of bacon, her gaze on the Denali. No one got out of the vehicle. She studied the other customers. No one looked interested in the giant SUV.
Nancy came outside and refilled her coffee mug. Mandy poked at the plate of food, ate part of a biscuit and a forkful of egg. She sipped her coffee and waited.
What were the chances this vehicle was the same one which had rammed Mike’s car in Tulsa? She didn’t see any dents in the front fender, but the cattle guard was scratched.
It could be a coincidence. Even so, she dreaded the short walk back to the cottage to get her car even though it was broad daylight and the café was full of people. Vehicles were driving by in the street. It seemed unlikely she’d be attacked here, now.
She pulled out her wallet and laid down the right amount to cover her bill and a tip. Then, she untied Moby’s leash from the table leg and set off at a fast walk down the sidewalk. Twice she turned and looked back. The Denali remained stationary.
At the little cabin, she retrieved her things and turned in her key. She checked the street for the Denali. All clear.
In her car, she reread the directions for Jandafar Hills, then started the engine.
“Off we go, dog. Here’s hoping we find Jenna today.”
She drove down the street, past the café and the white Denali, and turned west out of town. Mandy opened the sunroof and cracked the back two windows. The road wound around hills or climbed them before descending into valleys. S-curves meant slow speeds.
