The Long Road Home 22 - Home Changes, page 16
part #22 of The Long Road Home Series
Ken snorted. “You think I wasn’t already headed there?”
Seth didn’t smile.
“He shows his face here, we shut it down fast,” Ken said, voice hardening. “This town doesn’t have a lot of rules, but we don’t take kindly to men like that thinking they can pick up where they left off.”
“He threatened to kill her, and she has no doubt he’ll do it.”
Ken exhaled slowly, tightly. “Then he doesn’t get the benefit of the doubt.”
“She's terrified he'll go after her aunt in North Dakota. If he knows she's not with her, that might be the only thing keeping her aunt safe.”
“I contacted North Dakota law enforcement. They’ve got eyes up there. Discreet.”
“Good.”
“I want that watch,” Ken added. “Just in case we can pull anything from it.”
“I’ll bring it to you. I have to get Dad anyway.”
“Hey, Seth?”
“Yeah?”
“Be ready. Make sure Allison knows what to do,” Ken said. “He might already be close.”
Seth ended the call without another word. Gomer stood near the back step, muscles tight, ears perked, watching the shadows at the far end of the alley.
Seth looked out the picture window in Allison’s apartment. There was nothing but a few parked trucks, closed shop windows, and the slow flicker of a porchlight turning on in the distance. The fucker might be close, which would put Allison in danger. He held onto Allison as he made another call.
“Hello?”
“Sarah, I need your help.”
“What do you need? Is Dad okay?”
“He’s the same. We have a situation here, and I need to be free to handle it.”
“Talk to me,” Sarah said, and Seth laid it out for her.
“Okay. I’ll make some calls. Gramma and Grandpa Miles should be okay with watching the girls for a week or two if you need me to stay longer. I have to put things in order. I’ll be there tomorrow night.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. He is a cranky old fart, but I love him, and I told you we’d share the responsibility of taking care of him.” Sarah huffed. “I’ll see you late afternoon or early evening tomorrow. Do I need to bring anything?”
“A pillow and some linens, and blankets for your bed.” He hadn’t gotten around to ordering anything for the other rooms. He and Chester were set, though.
Sarah chuckled. “I can do that. I haven’t slept in a twin bed in years. I’ll see you soon.” The line went dead.
Seth glanced down at Allison. “Sarah’s coming so I can focus on you and Lottie.”
“I’d feel better if you were here with us at night.”
“Starting tomorrow night, I will be.” He wanted that fucker. It was the most basic feeling. If anything happened to Allison, he’d fucking go insane. What they had was new, but it was something he’d kill to protect. Feral didn’t come close to the primal sensations that flowed through him. He would protect Allison. He wouldn’t fail.
CHAPTER 19
Seven motherfucking weeks since he’d come home to find her gone. Seven weeks of rage at the audacity of the fucking little bitch. Eric had let that rage settle into a specific plan of action. He had been tracking that slut with her watch, but it went dead right here. In Hollister. The bitch had probably let it run out of power. But he figured she’d charge it back up. She hadn’t. So, he did what he thought she would do. He went to her aunt’s in North Dakota. That was a waste of time.
He'd taken as much vacation from work as he could. Then that bitch made him quit a good paying job to find her. Whatever. He’d find her, and she’d pay. His knuckles cracked as he gripped the steering wheel. For over two weeks, he’d parked down the block from her aunt’s house in Fargo. Two weeks of watching the front porch, the back alley, and the curtains at night. Nothing. Not a shadow. Not a whisper of her.
He'd waited. He'd followed deliveries. He meticulously tracked her aunt to church, the grocery, and even a hair appointment.
Loretta never showed.
Which meant she’d lied.
Which meant she knew exactly what she was doing when she ran. She’d had a plan, and she was laughing at him now. Laughing because she’d played him.
His jaw flexed, slow and tight. His hand curled into a fist on the worn leather of the steering wheel.
He couldn’t forgive her for making him look like a fool. No. That had to be corrected.
The truck engine ticked as it cooled, the only sound in the otherwise dead parking lot of the Bit and Spur. No cars. No lights. The bar was closed. It was too early even for the drunks and the drifters, and that was why he liked it. The parking lot was roped off, and the building was decorated. Obviously, a big party was happening soon. What the fuck ever. He would be gone as soon as he found her.
Eric sat behind the wheel of the Silverado, watching the sleepy town of Hollister across the highway like a hunter waiting for a twitch in the grass.
So small. So smug. The little Main Street was lit by a string of old-fashioned lamps, one or two flickering yellow against the lingering darkness. A bakery light glowed like a beacon down the street. He’d been there before. He stared at it the longest. Her watch had pinpointed that building. But the business was closed. It closed at two, and when he was there, it was two-thirty.
Loretta was there. He could feel it. He’d followed the trail of her smart watch. He’d enabled that tracker on the watch before giving it to her.
Eric smiled coldly. The last ping from her watch was smack dab in the middle of this town. It might not have been the bakery, but she was close. He knew it. Then it went dark. But not before it gave him a place to come back to, after he returned to the house and gathered a few things. He even went back to North Dakota, not believing the bitch was smart enough to go somewhere else. But once again, he couldn’t find her. He’d even broken into the fucking house when the aunt had left for church. Nothing. No clothes, no extra things that indicated another person was in the house. He’d left a message, though. He’d trashed that house and taken out his anger on every possession that old woman had. It had been therapeutic and dulled his rage. That was how he’d devised the plan of watching the sleepy little town. She wouldn’t say shit. She knew he’d kill her if she did. So, he only needed to wait, watch, and be invisible.
He reached for the coffee he’d bought an hour ago from the diner and took a slow sip. It was damn good, but taste didn’t matter. What mattered was that Hollister felt … soft.
Too few buildings. Too many open spaces. These were the kinds of places where people left doors unlocked and assumed their secrets were safe. He could already picture it. The look on her face when she saw him again. Shock, then maybe terror. Oh, then … yeah, then that empty look of resignation she always gave him when she knew she’d gone too far.
He missed that look. It was his favorite. The one he loved the most. Just before the first strike. That was the best. He craved that look and that feeling of his fist against her body. The rest of the blows didn’t give him that high, but her small cries got him to the point where he could stop and go jack off. She always got him to that point. Others hadn’t.
And the bitch thought she’d gotten away. He’d taught her better than that. She would leave him when she was dead. Not before.
Eric’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, scanning the empty lot again. He hadn’t parked facing the street. That was amateur stuff. Park at an angle where his plate couldn’t be seen from the highway. He wasn't stupid.
He’d give this town more time. Just watch. Map out the comings and goings. Who went where? What businesses opened early? What buildings had upstairs windows? There weren’t many.
Then he’d move. He’d start at the building where he lost her signal. And locked doors wouldn’t stop him this time.
The bakery smelled like yeast and butter and fall seasonings. Allison had just pulled the first tray of pumpkin coffee cake from the oven when the bell above the front door jingled. She frowned. It was too early for her regular customers. She frowned, wiping her hands on her apron as she crossed into the front room.
“Edna?”
The older woman didn’t smile. Her winter coat was unzipped, lipstick smudged a bit, so she’d probably been at the diner having her caramel roll. Her wispy gray hair frizzed around her ears from the brisk wind outside.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said, voice low. “You got a minute?”
Allison nodded. “Hi, yourself. What brings you by so early? Come on back. Coffee’s fresh.”
Edna followed her behind the counter into the kitchen, her boots tapping sharply on the tile. She didn’t sit. Just stood there, her eyes flicking toward the stairwell that led to the apartment upstairs.
“She still up there?” she asked quietly.
Allison nodded. Everyone knew where Lottie was staying. The news had spread like wildfire as soon as Ken had told Edna. The people of Hollister now did a double-take at everything and everyone. “She is. I haven’t heard her, so she’s still sleeping, I think.”
Edna exhaled through her nose, then leaned in. “I saw a truck this morning. I was heading into the diner. Took the long way because it’s my morning to have a caramel roll with Kate. Need to burn some calories.”
Allison’s stomach dropped. “What kind of truck?”
“Dark blue Chevy. Extended cab. Dent on the passenger side big as a sin. Parked outside the diner before sunup.”
Allison gripped the edge of the counter. “Did you see the driver?”
Edna nodded slowly. “Didn’t recognize him. Not local. Stocky fella, military haircut. Face looked tight. Mean. Like someone who hadn’t smiled in a long time and didn’t plan to.”
“Did he talk to anyone?”
“Nope, not that I saw. I came in just after him. He got a coffee to go from Corrie. Didn’t make eye contact. Left fast. But he looked around like he was checking every corner of this town. Like he was mapping it in his head.”
Allison swallowed hard. “He see you watching him?”
Edna gave her a sharp look. “Honey, I’ve been blending into diner booths since before you were in training bras. He didn’t give me a second glance.”
The tremble Allison had been holding at bay settled in her hands. She turned toward the coffee pot, pouring herself a mug so Edna wouldn’t see her face.
“Damn, what do I do now? What do I tell her?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Edna’s hand came to rest gently on her back. “You keep your chin up. You keep that girl safe. And you let the rest of us do what we do best.”
Allison turned.
“And what’s that?”
Edna’s eyes narrowed. “We notice everything. We talk. And when danger rolls into town wearing a dented truck and a bad attitude, Hollister circles the wagons.”
Allison reached for her phone. “Ken knows?”
“I called him before I came. He’s already moving. Seth, too, I imagine. Although he has Chester to care for.”
Allison shook her head. “No, Sarah, his sister came in last night. Seth called her when Lottie told us what had happened. He wanted to be able to move without worrying about his dad. She’s staying for a week but can extend it to two weeks if …” Allison swallowed the knot rising in her throat. “Can you watch the shop? I’m going to run up and tell Seth.”
Edna leaned in, voice like gravel and steel. “You got it. This asshole picked the wrong damn town.”
CHAPTER 20
Seth settled into a booth at the diner. One with an unobstructed view of the street and the bakery. He jerked his eyes to the door when the bell rang. As he recognized who’d come in, he blinked and then smiled. “Gregg?”
Gregg Koehler frowned and looked over. “Well, I’ll be. What the hell are you doing back here?” Gregg walked over, and Seth stood up, shaking his old friend’s hand.
“Came back to take care of my pops. Sit with me?”
“I can do that.” Gregg sat down, and Corrie came out. “Hi, Gregg, the usual?”
“Yes, please, ma’am,” Gregg said and took off his cowboy hat. “You done with the military?”
“Yep. Retired. You?”
“I work for Mr. Marshall as a ranch hand.”
“Not with your dad anymore?” Seth asked as he took a sip of his coffee.
“My dad killed my mom and fucked us up, bad. He’s dead. The old ranch was plowed under. Good riddance.”
“Holy hell.” Seth set his coffee cup down. “I’m so damn sorry, dude. I knew things were bad out there …”
Gregg shrugged. “Bastard mentally and physically abused all of us. Christian the most. He escaped. Married. Has a son.”
“Really?” Seth cocked his head.
“Yeah.” Gregg looked him in the eye. “His husband is a good man. I don’t tolerate anyone saying anything about either of them.”
Seth smiled at his friend. “I wouldn’t. Not my place nor my business.”
“What are you doing here? Your pops okay?” he asked after Corrie put a platter-sized caramel roll and a coffee before him.
“Sarah is with him right now. I’m keeping an eye out for a certain truck.”
Gregg stopped with his coffee halfway to his lips. “Been briefed. Seen it?”
“Edna did yesterday morning. Deputies are keeping it casual, but we haven’t seen it again. Everyone is watching.”
“I’m off today. Come in on my off days for this.” He nodded to his plate. “I could stay if you’re needing help.”
“I wouldn’t mind the company.” Seth leaned back in the booth. “You realize you’ll have to tell me the whole story, right? About your mom. I thought she left.”
“You always were a nosy son of a bitch,” Gregg said before shoving a forkful of caramel roll into his mouth.
“That’s what friends are good at.”
Gregg huffed and asked around his food. “You staying?”
“Yeah. Allison and I have the start of something special. Dad is going to need care for quite a while. Or at least I’m hoping he will. Alzheimer’s.”
Gregg nodded. “Knew that. You going to take that job at the ranch?”
Seth cocked his head. “How did you know about that?”
“Ranch manager said Mr. Marshall had words with you. Figured you must have a military skill he needs.” Gregg looked at him. “And I didn’t say that.”
“Best kept non-secret in town.”
Gregg pointed his fork at Seth. “That,” he said.
“Start talking, Koehler,” Seth said as he poured another cup of coffee from the carafe that Corrie had brought out.
Gregg sighed and leaned back. “Well, Christian and I are the only ones left.”
“What? What happened to Clint?”
“Turns out he was a serial killer,” Gregg said, shrugging.
Seth blinked. “You’re shitting me.”
Gregg shook his head and looked around the diner. “What do you say we wait for this conversation until after I finish? We can stroll around town, look for that truck, and I can fill you in on all of it.”
“Deal.” Seth took a sip of his coffee. My God, Hollister wasn’t short on drama, was it?
The streets of Hollister were wrapped in dusk, the kind that stretched long across the prairies. The purple light bleeding into deep shadow. The bakery had closed hours ago, but Allison’s light still glowed above the back door. Seth’s gut had been twisting all day. That weight he got before everything went sideways. He, Gregg, and Gomer had walked the town all day. That damn truck wasn’t in sight. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.
“Did you hear that?” he asked Gregg. Gomer’s ears were pinned forward, and he growled low in his chest. “Come on.” He and Gregg started jogging toward the back of the bakery.
He turned the corner just in time to hear Allison scream, “Let me go!”
He sprinted forward, Gomer at his side, Gregg just behind him. The road behind the bakery stretched out dark and narrow. Halfway down, he saw Allison struggling as she was dragged toward a truck.
And the man dragging her?
It had to be that motherfucker. Eric Danvers.
Big, blocky build. Blond hair with rage pouring off him like smoke off a fire.
Then Seth saw Lottie crumpled on the ground near the rear door. Unmoving.
His vision tunneled. “Gregg, get the women!”
Eric dropped Allison at the sound of his voice. She stumbled back, breath ragged, and Gregg swept in, grabbing her and pulling her to safety.
Seth didn’t slow down.
He slammed into Eric with the full force of his weight, both of them crashing hard against the side of the truck.
Eric snarled, “She’s mine!”
Seth punched him. Once. Twice. Eric took the hits and answered with a fist to Seth’s ribs, then a wild swing that split Seth’s lip. They grappled, each looking for an advantage. Fists flew when separation happened. Seth’s boots slipped against the gravel, but he didn’t back up, and neither did that fucker Danvers.
Eric drove a shoulder into Seth’s gut, slamming him into the trash cans. The edge caught Seth’s back hard, and he grunted and twisted sharply, elbowing Eric in the temple. Eric staggered, eyes wild. “You think you can take her from me?” he panted. “You don’t know what she is.”
“I know what you are,” Seth growled. “A coward who hits women.”
Eric roared, pulling a folding knife from his back pocket and flicking it open. Seth barely dodged the first swipe.
“Gregg!” he barked, never taking his eyes off the blade.
“I’ve got them!” Gregg shouted from the back of the bakery. “Both are breathing!”
The knife flashed again. Eric slashed across Seth’s forearm, cutting deep. Pain flared, hot and bright, but Seth didn’t stop. He stepped in fast, inside the blade, grabbed Eric’s wrist, twisted until bones popped, and slammed his wrist against the blue truck. The knife clattered to the pavement.
