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Authors: Fern Michaels

Sara's Song (37 page)

BOOK: Sara's Song
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“You're humoring me again.”
“People simply do not rise from the dead. I really don't want to talk about my brother. Let his soul rest in peace.”
“He's not dead, Adam.”
“He's dead. Now let's drop it.”
“Would you care to make a wager?”
“What kind of wager?” Adam's voice sounded suspicious.
“You told me you promised Dallas Six to Dallas. If I'm right, I get the pup. I'll leave the explanations up to you. In my opinion, there's nothing worse than breaking a promise.”
Adam stared at Sara in the dim light. Was it possible? Could Dallas really be alive? His head started to pound. Miracles happened to other people, not people like him and Dallas. It was Christmas. Christmas for as long as he could remember was a time of miracles. Make the bet or not? What if by some chance she was right. “I can't part with any of the dogs, especially Dallas Six.”
“That's what I thought.” Sara huddled deeper into the woolly robe. “He's out there. Waiting and watching.”
“Don't you think it's about time for him to make a move?” Tom asked.
“When the time is right. It's starting to get cold in here. I told you, he's not the old Dallas who does things on whims. Don't ask me how I know this. I just do.”
“Did you hear that?” Adam whispered. He was on his feet in the blink of an eye.
“Yeah.” A second later Tom was on his feet.
Sara huddled deeper into the corner.
Chapter Nineteen
He stalked her, carefully stepping into the tracks she had made. If she heard him, she gave no sign. He was careful to stay far enough behind her so that she didn't have the advantage over him. It was amazing that he could see her at all in the swirling snow. She stopped as though she were listening to something. He stopped, too, straining to hear whatever she thought she was hearing. The wind howled and shrieked as the icy snow buffeted upward in giant swirls. He thought for a second that he'd lost her when the snow obliterated her form, then he relaxed, knowing all he had to do was follow her steps in the snow. She was moving again, this time more purposefully. He waited a moment, and then called out to her. He cupped his hands around his mouth to be sure the sound carried ahead of him. “Sandi, it's me, Dallas. Wait up.” She must have heard him because she stopped again. He remained where he was, statue still. He called out again. “I can't let you hurt Sara, Sandi. Give it up and go back now before something happens to one of us.”
“Shut the hell up, Adam. Don't think you can scare me. I have a gun so be warned. The song is mine. Dallas wrote it for me.”
“I wrote it for Sara. Who are they going to believe, you or me? I'll drag you through every court in the land. You can't get away from me; Sandi.”
“Come and get me you stupid jerk.”
“I warned you, Sandi. I gave you a chance. It's over now.”
“It's over when I say it's over and not before.”
 
 
The silence in the room was shattered by an eerie shriek, so high-pitched in intensity that Sara clapped her hands over her ears.
“What the hell was that?” Tom shouted.
“It sounded like a wild animal,” Adam said.
A moment later the door to the cabin was kicked open. Sara struggled to her feet, gasping at the sight of Dallas with Sandi Sims slung over his shoulder. Relief left her so faint she had to clutch at the door for support.
“Are you okay, Sara?”
“I'm fine, Dallas. You must be frozen. I'll get you some dry clothes.” She was aware of Adam's stunned surprise and Tom Silk's gaping mouth.
So much for my hallucinations,
she thought.
“I'm okay, but can we build up the fire? I need something to tie up Sandi.”
Adam stood in a trance, his eyes never leaving his brother's face.
Tom staggered out to the kitchen to hand over two red plaid dish towels. They all watched as Dallas pushed Sandi onto one of the kitchen chairs. He tied her hands behind her back, interlacing the towels with the spokes on the back of the chair. The singer's booted foot swung up and out. Dallas danced away as the chair toppled over. “Stay that way. This floor is cold, and it's going to get colder.”
Obscenities filled the cabin as hatred spewed from Sandi's eyes.
“Adam, Jesus, it's good to see you. You must be Tom.” Dallas snapped his fingers in front of Adam's face. “Did you hang up my stocking?”
Adam's voice was a croak of disbelief. “Dallas. Dallas, is it really you? Talk about your Christmas miracle. Yeah, yeah, I hung it up. I filled it, too. How . . . what . . . ?”
“I don't think I've ever known you to be at a loss for words, Adam. It's kind of nice. I hate to think what would have happened to the three of you if I hadn't shown up.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Come here, little brother.”
Tears filled Sara's eyes as she watched the two brothers hug each other. How sad that it took a tragedy to bring two people back together. When she was old and gray, she could talk about the time she personally witnessed a Christmas miracle.
Tom nudged Sara to move closer to the kitchen area where Sandi Sims sprawled in the upended chair. Sandi continued to curse, her voice venomous and vitriolic. Sara stared down at her. What would Carly do or say at this particular moment? Whatever Carly would do or say didn't matter anymore. What mattered was what Sara Killian thought or said. “I hope the authorities fry that jiggly ass of yours.”
Tom said, “Hear, hear!”
“Judge Iverson is still alive. They operated on him earlier. You screwed up, Sandi. Attempted murder not once but twice is going to get you some real downtime. You'll be fifty or sixty when you get out of jail. Think about all that greasy food and starch you'll be forced to eat. Your face will be one big zit. No designer duds in the big house. No makeup. No hairstylists. You'll learn to love Lava soap, bedbugs, and coarse sheets. Those acrylic nails will be the first thing to go. Degenerates and lowlife scum will be your best friends when they aren't stabbing you in the back.”
Sandi Sims stared at Sara with clinical interest. “It will never happen.”
A chill ran up Sara's spine. The singer sounded so sure, so positive. “I'll make sure it happens. If necessary, I'll dedicate my life to that end.”
“What will you use for evidence?” Sandi's voice was nonchalant as though she were discussing the possibility of rain.
“Let me worry about the evidence. I don't even know why I'm bothering to talk to you.”
“I don't know either,” Sandi snapped.
Tom poked Sara and jerked his head in the direction across the room where Adam and Dallas were huddled, talking quietly and intensely. “For two bright, brilliant people, it's amazing how they screwed up their lives. It looks to me like things are back on track. Adam told me the thing he wanted the most was to call up Dallas and ask him to go fishing the way they did when they were kids. Homemade fishing poles with peanut butter for bait. They'll probably take all seven dogs with them.”
Sara smiled. “I bet they ask you to go along.”
“Do you think so?” The frown lines between Tom's eyes disappeared.
“Yes, I do. I think you're going to be a good friend to both Dallas and Adam. I wonder what they're talking about.”
“I think they're talking about everything they always wanted to say but never did. Everything they thought about over the years. They have a lifetime of words to make up for. The actions will come later. I wish I knew if it really were Christmas or not.”
“I don't know, Tom. I've felt like I've been in a time warp for days now. It seems to me it is. The only thing missing is Santa coming down the chimney.”
“Give me a break!” Sandi Sims growled from her position on the floor.
“I wouldn't give you the time of day if you were in a dark room,” Tom shot back.
“Neither would I,” Sara said smartly. “I have to get Dallas some dry clothes. Keep your eye on our . . . Christmas guest.”
Sara returned with a pile of clothing. “The bathroom is to the right. You need to get out of those clothes quickly, Dallas.”
Sara sat down on the hearth, the heat from the fire toasting her back. “It's wonderful, isn't it? Your own Christmas miracle. I hope the two of you don't screw it up this time around. It's rare that anyone gets a second chance at anything. Do you have any idea of just how lucky you are?”
“Yes, Sara, I do,” Adam said.
“Did he tell you how . . . what . . . ? Where has he been?”
“He said he would tell us everything when he was dry and warm. It must be a long story. You were right. He's not the same person anymore. I can't put my finger on what it is exactly.”
“I think I know.”
“You know?”
“I said I
think
I know. Dallas has always considered himself ... for want of a better word, retarded. He is not retarded, he is dyslexic. I tested him one evening. I wish . . . I wish you could have been there to see the joy, the relief in his face. I swear to God, he changed right in front of my eyes. All of a sudden he seemed taller, his shoulders went back, then straightened up. That vague look in his eyes was gone. Don't say anything to him about what I just said. I'm sure he'll tell you himself at some point in time.”
“Dyslexia? Jesus, and we all thought . . .”
“I know. You didn't have to voice what you thought. He knew what all of you were thinking. Can you imagine carrying that around with you all your life?”
“My God!” Adam's shoulders slumped. “I don't know what to do.”
“That's good. That you don't know what to do I mean. Dallas knows. It's his turn now. My advice, for whatever it's worth, is to go with the flow. Don't look back. The past is gone. You can't change anything. Tomorrow isn't here yet. You have today to start a new life. All the sweet tomorrows are yet to come for both of you. Now that's a song title if I ever heard one.”
Dallas crossed the room to sit down next to Adam, his gaze speculative.
Adam clapped his brother on the back. “Sara and I were just talking about how wonderful this all is. I like the word ‘miracle.' Now, tell us what happened. Don't leave anything out.”
“There really isn't all that much to tell. I flew to Vegas on a chartered flight. It was just me and the pilot. At the last minute his brother came on board. Don, the pilot, asked me if I minded if Bruce hitched a ride with us. I said no. I slept the whole way. I woke up when the plane broke up and hit the ground. I know it's unbelievable, but it's what happened. The main body of the plane exploded into a ball of fire. I couldn't get close enough to check. Trust me when I tell you there was no way anyone could have survived that explosion. You could feel the heat a mile away. I didn't know what to do so I walked away in a daze. I just walked and walked. It was all I could do to remember my name. It was like that time I fell out of the tree. I walked for miles and miles. Then I fell asleep by some trees and bushes. I woke up with some guy standing over me. He smelled, and he had a straggly beard. I thought I was dead, and he was God. He had this beat-up old truck and he took me to a road stop with a motel in the desert. I hung out for a couple of days to come to terms with things.
“I had a wad of cash on me. You know me, I was going to hit the tables when I got to Vegas. I rented an apartment and a car. I didn't have any concrete plans at that moment. I bought some clothes, got a haircut, took out the earring and pawned it. I went to the pound and got myself a dog and bought him a pricey collar. I was set to begin a new life. I think I thought I could start over somewhere and just be an ordinary person. It was great walking down the street just looking in windows, stopping for a hot dog and not having people screaming and mauling me. I'm on a program at the university.
“For a while everything was mixed up. I finally realized I couldn't start a new life until the old one was ended. I thought I could just fade away and start over some place. My money was dwindling. I went up to the house to take some out of the safe. Your dogs knew I was there. The big one let me pet her. Guess she smelled my dog on me. Adam, do you know how good that sounds? Me saying, my dog. My landlady is watching him for me. I stuck around and listened to what was going on. That's when I started following Sara. I was always one step behind. I almost had Sandi when she came out of your garage, but she got away from me. I went to her old apartment, but she doesn't live there anymore. It got to the point where I didn't know who the hell I should be following. I decided to stick with Sara. The rain, the highway, the cops fouled me up so I didn't get to that nurse's apartment till after Sara bolted.
“I pulled over to the side of the road and tried to figure out where Sara would go to be safe. I knew she'd go to see Judge Iverson. Once, a long time ago, Sandi referred to her political friend Ronnie. Iverson's name is Ronald. Sara had told me the judge was a friend of her father's, so I put two and two together. I thought the old guy was playing both ends against the middle. I was right. It was stupid, dumb luck that I hit it and came up here. I didn't know if I was behind Sara or behind Sandi. I know now that I was behind Sandi. I saw her lift the hood of that old truck and toss something in the snow. I'm assuming it was the distributor cap. I was stumbling around in the snow, debating if I should let Sara know I was there, when I saw a figure move inside the house. I couldn't tell who it was. Then I saw Sara outside with the flashlight so I knew that it had to be Sandi in the house. I tried to lead Sara away, but she let go of my hand and I lost her. I turned back to go after Sandi. But she'd left the house. The three of us were stumbling around in blind circles.
“I don't know how much later I heard you two, and then I heard Sara call out. I knew the three of you would be okay, so I concentrated on Sandi and I stalked her. Just the way we used to stalk Billy Sweet when we were playing in the woods. I remembered all that stuff you taught me, Adam. Then I threw in a little scary stuff and started to call out to her. I spooked her. She panicked and I got a hammerlock on her. Here she is. God, I'm hungry. Is it Christmas? If it is, I have to make a phone call.”
Adam laughed. “None of us seem to know. This is your show, kid. By the way, do you have a new name?”
BOOK: Sara's Song
3.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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