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Blood Moon (Bear Sheriff Book 1) Page 6
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There was even less on this side of the street. An old restaurant, the Charming Diner, was closed and when she looked in the windows, it looked like it had been for years. She passed the joint grocery store and liquor store and stepped in, though she didn’t stay long.
She had just left the store, the storm high overhead and everything dark, when she heard a vehicle coming down the street behind her. She turned and saw the Sheriff driving along. Obviously, he must have saw her, because he crossed over into the oncoming lane – which was, unsurprisingly, free of traffic – and pulled up next to the curb. She waited as he rolled down the hand crank window.
“I thought I told you to stay in the coffee shop,” he growled, leaning out of the window.
She just shrugged.
“It’s not safe for you out here.”
“Is it safe for me anywhere, Sheriff? What’d you find out?”
It was his turn to shrug. “Not much. You sure you want to know?” Angie nodded. “She was stabbed six times by an unknown assailant. Most likely a male. The motive is unknown, but based on what you told me back at the station, most likely a result of the revitalization attempt on Charming. A lot of people aren’t happy about it.”
“So I could be next.”
He nodded and said, “They’ll probably come after you next. So, it’s in your best interest to come with me.”
“And where are we going, Sheriff?”
“I’ll take you over to Haven. You can stay there until this is all sorted out.”
“I’m not going to leave town, Sheriff. I’m not going to back down or be scared into leaving. I’m not going to run. Erica and I came here to do a job, and I’m not leaving until it’s done.”
“Respectfully, Miss Campbell, that’s foolish. The killer is going to come back, and chances are he’ll be coming back soon. It isn’t safe.”
“I’ll be fine,” Angie said, turning and heading back towards the hotel. She heard the Sheriff open his door and then slam it, then heard his footsteps behind her as he rushed to catch up. He reached her and stepped in front of her.
“Listen to me,” he said, stopping her in her tracks. “Whoever killed Erica is coming back, and he’s not afraid to kill again. He will be back. You can’t be at the motel when he comes looking.” He paused and thought for a few moments. “Let me get you set up in the Sheriff’s station for a night. I’ll lock it up tight. No one will know you’re there.”
“I’m not staying in a jail cell unless I’m under arrest, and I know I haven’t done anything to warrant that. Or are you going to cuff me and force me, Sheriff?”
“Fine,” he said, thinking again. “Let me take you to my place. Keep you safe there. I have a spare bedroom.”
“I’m not going to stay out at your house with you,” she said, her voice icy. Looking at him – it didn’t seem so bad. She was a woman, after all, and the Sheriff, for all of his ruggedness, was handsome.
“Not with me,” he said, exasperated. “I’ll be in town, watching the motel to see if the killer comes back to finish the job.”
“You can do that with me in the room even better than you can with me out of it,” Angie said, walking around him. “Do your job, Sheriff. Because something tells me you’re good at it, and that’s the only reason anyone likes you around here. Don’t let me get killed.”
Angie walked off, trying to project confidence, though she didn’t feel it. The Sheriff just stood there, silent, and Angie left him alone with his thoughts.
Chapter 9
She couldn’t have known it, but what she had said cut deep. He knew that the only reason the townspeople tolerated him was because he was good at his job, and even some people like Stu Copeland and Jimmy Rivers didn’t even do that.
They hated him here. He was an outsider, almost as much as Angie was. He didn’t like to hear it, but he knew it.
I never should have come here. After everything that happened, why did I think it would be a good idea to come here? I could have went anywhere in the world and I chose Charming. Would she have wanted that?
He looked down at his left hand, clenched it, and cleared his thoughts. He stood there for a few moments as Angie Campbell walked back towards the motel. He scowled; it wasn’t safe for her here in Charming any longer. He knew with certainty that the killer would be back. He’d killed one half of the newcomers, and he would come back again to finish the job.
Why didn’t he kill them both? That thought rattled around in his head. It was meant to be Angie. The killer picked the wrong room. Had he been following them after the bar? Got them confused in the darkness? Who was in that bar?
Thinking hard, Marcus remembered almost everyone there – but he hadn’t paid much attention to the people in the booths because they hadn’t been near the impending fight. He admonished himself; he should have paid attention to everyone in the bar last night.
Marcus ran a hand through his beard, thinking hard. He needed to shave, needed to shower, and needed a few hours of rest. He glanced back at Angie Campbell as she walked back to the motel, then turned into the parking lot.
She’ll be safe for a few hours. The last thing I want to do is fall asleep on lookout.
Marcus started back towards his Bronco when an old farm truck pulled up to the curb.
“Shit,” he growled. He paused for a moment, hooking his thumbs in his belt as the farm truck parked.
“Sheriff Stone,” the driver said as she made her way around the front of the truck. “It’s about to rain, you know.”
“Miss Rivers,” Marcus responded, nodding his head to her. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Joanna Rivers was Jimmy’s older sister. Their father, Walt Rivers, had passed away only a few short months ago. His inheritance had passed down to his five children: Joanna, Jimmy, Clint, Cody, and Cory. Marcus wasn’t in the loop, but what he’d gathered was that Joanna had taken control of her father’s vast empire. He’d owned thousands of acres all around Charming, even some down near Haven, and had a couple hundred thousand head of cattle. He’d also owned vast swaths of cropland, some of which was leased out to many of the local farmers. Charming was still here because of the Rivers family.
Rumors around town said that though Walt had only recently passed away, his mental health had been fading for the past few years. In that time, Joanna had stepped up to help him out. Only in her mid-forties, she’d already become matriarch of the most powerful family around Charming.
Looking at her, he could see how she’d managed it. Even in her forties, Joanna was more beautiful than almost anyone else in Charming. Her looks may have helped her in some instances, but he knew that her most powerful asset was her mind. She’d taken over her father’s empire as if it had been nothing. Her four younger brothers, along with her uncles, had simply fallen in line.
And now, for whatever reason, she was here in front of him – and she’d never even glanced at him before.
“Call me Jo,” she purred. Her voice was sweet, quiet, designed to put others at ease – but Marcus knew better. “Can I call you Marcus?”
“Sheriff Stone will do just fine,” he said, giving her his best smile. “What can I do you for?”
If his insistence at being called Sheriff bothered her, she gave no indication. She said, “I just wanted to apologize for Jimmy. The last few months have been hard on him, with father passing.”
“No need to apologize,” he said. When she didn’t leave, he asked, “Is there something else?
She hesitated, almost as if she didn’t want to – though it was all an act, and said, “I heard there was a murder last night.”
Normally, Marcus wouldn’t comment one way or the other about that kind of business, but around Charming, everyone knew by now. He just nodded.
“What happened?”
“I can’t go into details, Miss Rivers,” he said, and smiled again. He wanted her gone, but he knew she would leave only on her own terms.
“I heard it was one of those women who
are trying to change our town,” she said. Then, almost in an offhanded way, she said, “They’re bad for Charming, you know.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you trying to say something, Miss Rivers?”
“Oh, goodness, no!” she said, surprise on her face. She reached out and squeezed his arm. Marcus bristled at the touch – he hadn’t been touched by a woman in years. He carefully shrugged out of her grip, though he didn’t want to. “I would never wish that upon anyone! You know me!”
He wanted to tell her that no, he didn’t know her, but he instead said, “Just have to ask. It’s my job.”
“I completely understand! So,” she began, pausing for dramatic effect. “Tell me. How’s the investigation going?”
“You know I can’t say.”
“Of course!” she beamed. She was playing up the act, though Marcus could see right through it – even if most of the others in the town couldn’t. She wanted something from him, though he didn’t know just what that could be.
“Miss Rivers, I hate to cut this short – but I’m sort of busy, you understand,” he lied. “Is there something I can help you with?”
He could tell that he’d struck a nerve. She hadn’t expected him to cut to the chase like that, but she quickly recovered and smiled at him. One of her fingers trailed down one of his forearms.
“It’s just that – well, this is bad for the town. It’s more than just losing that poor woman, you know? A big investigation… Well, it brings a lot of press. A lot of bad press. Makes our town look bad, you know? It’s just not what we need – you and I, and everyone else, that is – and I hope it doesn’t hurt our town too much.”
“What are you asking?”
“I know you have to do your job, Marcus. I know. But… Just try to keep it within Charming, if you can. Let’s let you deal with our town’s problems.”
“I’ll do whatever I have to,” Marcus warned.
“I know you will,” she said, smiling. “But just think about what I said.” And she took a step closer to Marcus; he could smell her sweet perfume, the soap she’d used this morning, the expensive shampoo in her hair. It was enough to make his head spin. When she reached out and grabbed his hand, it was almost enough to make him explode. “I know you’ve had a hard time here in Charming. We’re a hard bunch to crack. But… I can help you out, Marcus. I have a lot of sway around here, you know. You don’t have to be alone any longer.”
She pulled away from him, then, and smiled that smile of hers. “Just think on it, Marcus.”
With that, she went back to her old farm truck, smiled and waved at Marcus, and then drove off. Marcus stood there, drops of rain finally starting to fall on his uniform.
He knew what her endgame was. If Mayor Copeland wanted to propel Charming into the future, then Joanna Rivers wanted to keep it exactly the way it was. And could he blame her? Her entire family’s empire was built on Charming’s foundations. Hell, her family’s empire had built Charming. Progress into the future could have a negative impact on her life.
She wants me to keep this close to my chest. Should I?
He could tell what was in it for him. It’s what he’d always wanted: to be a part of Charming. He didn’t want to be the outsider any longer.
And all I have to do is… What? Figure this out on my own? Not take it to Haven, or any other town? Refuse to comment to the newspaper about it?
Can I do that? Is it me?
Truthfully, Marcus didn’t know who he was or even where he stood. But he knew one thing. He was going to solve this murder, and he was going to keep Angie Campbell safe. So what if he didn’t make it larger than Charming? As long as he solved the murder, why would it matter?
He climbed into the Bronco just as the rain really started to come down, rolling up his window as fast as he could. He turned around on the street and drove by the Great Southern slowly. Down at the very end, second room from the last, he could see Angie Campbell’s light shining out into the grayness.
Angie Campbell. Who is she?
He hadn’t had much time to notice, but she was attractive. She was also crass, abrasive, and tough to get along with. He’d realized that almost immediately.
But somewhere deep inside of her, somewhere buried maybe even to herself, she was a good person. She cared about others. She cared about what had happened to Erica, who he knew was a friend – even if she never would have admitted it.
She was also headstrong and determined to succeed, something under most circumstances he would have respected greatly. But now that she was in danger, he wished she would have left town, if only for a few days.
Just long enough to get this sorted out. Get everything figured out.
… And keep it quiet.
He felt ashamed at all of his thoughts of Angie and what she looked like, his desire to be part of the town he lived in, and even his ideas to keep the murder quiet.
I’m in over my head. I need help. There are a couple of guys over in Haven. They don’t like me, but they could help me here. I don’t have to do all of this by myself.
But, like Angie Campbell, he was also stubborn… And he was sick of only being the Sheriff. He wanted more.
He drove home, raindrops falling on his dusty vehicle. He couldn’t think of the last time Charming got a good rainstorm, and he wondered if it was some kind of bad omen. He hoped not.
He got home ten minutes after leaving the motel and pulled into his winding driveway, past the old dried up river. Then he followed it left, going uphill onto the ridge, his cattle pen off to his right. The driveway looped back towards the road and he passed the old barn that had been there long before he had before parking underneath two trees in front of his house.
He walked up the old concrete sidewalk to his house, which sat on the ridge overlooking the road that his house was on. When he’d first moved to Charming, he’d spent almost every night out on the ridge, looking down at the dirt road below him and Charming in the distance.
Marcus needed to go in and shower. He needed to eat and then get a few hours of sleep, but instead, he walked past the house and out to the ridge. He sat down at the very edge, legs dangling over the 10 foot drop to the dirt road below.
He couldn’t see Charming through the rain, which pelted him mercilessly.
But he knew it was there, not too far in the distance. And he knew that somewhere out there was the Great Southern, where Angie Campbell was now. He knew that Joanna Rivers was somewhere out there, too, probably gloating about how she’d managed to work her magic on him.
And out there somewhere was a killer, who Marcus was determined to find.
Chapter 10
Somewhere out there was a killer. Somewhere out there was the Sheriff, who was supposed to be watching her.
Angie let the curtains fall back into place. She’d peered out of her motel window, but could see nothing past the light outside of her room. Rain was still coming down, though it had let up and now was only a slight typhoon. Darkness had fallen a few hours ago.
It was nearly 11 o’clock, and no matter how hard she tried, Angie couldn’t seem to get to sleep. Every time she laid down, her heart started pounding too loudly to sleep.
So she paced around her room. She’d flipped the TV on once, but turned it off almost immediately. She’d killed all of the lights in the room so she walked in total darkness.
After she’d left the Sheriff earlier, she’d come back to her room and checked for every way in. The bathroom had a small window, rectangle shaped, above the tub. She’d peered out of it, deciding there wasn’t much back there besides some old scrap metal and an old fence that was half on the ground.
Curious, she’d steeled herself and went outside while the sun was still up and the rain was still falling. The window to Erica’s room was unbroken, so whoever had killed her had went in through the front door. She’d quickly made her way back inside, locked the door, and waited.
That had been a few hours ago. She was convinced that the
killer would be coming in through the front door, and if there was any luck, the Sheriff was outside somewhere watching.
I just hope he’s not too obvious, she thought. If he spooks the killer off, he may come some other night. A day from now. A week. A month, biding his time.
No, he needs to be caught tonight. I just hope the Sheriff is as good as everyone makes him out to be.
The night was silent except for the pattering rain. Time seemed to drag by and exhaustion was creeping in. Midnight passed and Angie laid down on the bed, the hammering in her chest slowly growing less and less.
Half an hour past midnight and nothing. At 1:00, she felt her eyes drifting shut, though she tried her hardest to fight it off.
She suddenly jerked awake, waking up for no reason whatsoever. Had she heard something? She glanced at the clock: 1:30. Straining to hear, Angie squinted into the darkness. There was nothing out of the ordinary. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, then laid back down and closed her eyes.
And then she heard the sound of shattering glass. The bathroom! Angie jumped up, flipping on the light in the bedroom. She glanced back towards the bathroom. The way the motel room was set up, she could just see inside of it. She saw shards of glass falling into the tub, breaking, and she knew whoever was coming after her was coming in through the window.
Did he know the Sheriff was out there? Is the Sheriff out there? Could he be gone?
The last thing Angie wanted to do was run out into the stormy night, unsure of where she was going or even if the Sheriff was there to help her, but she had no choice. She couldn’t stay in this room. After all, the killer would be in here any time now.
She ran to the door, unlocking the handle and flinging the door open. But it caught on the chain lock, which she’d forgotten to undo. She could hear grunting from behind her, then the sound of boots crunching glass.
He’s in the tub!
She slammed the door shut, unlocked the chain – it was nearly impossible, she was shaking so much – and flung the door open again.