Whispers of the Heart (25 page)

The old woman’s brow quirked again, but this time a knowing gleam lit the dark pupils in her eyes. She nodded slightly and cocked her head, indicating he go right, “If it is still in business, there is one on Pine Street, but I do not recall the name.” She turned to leave again, but again Cal bade her wait.

“Um, I really hate to be a bother, but could you give me an idea where Pine Street is located? I’m afraid my GPS isn’t functioning in my rental car.”

“It run out of gas too?”

Cal blushed, but decided not to reply. The woman eyed him for a few minutes more before speaking again, “Turn right out of the parking lot. Stay on 2
nd
Street. You will see Pine Street a few miles down to your right. Take Pine until you are close to 5
th
Street. Are those good enough directions for you?”

“I appreciate your time, ma’am.”

“Enough to pay for it?” The woman snorted again.

Cal pulled out his wallet and threw two fifties on the counter, “You have a nice day, ya hear?” He turned and walked from the building, leaving an old native woman standing there wondering who was going to die.

“Good morning everyone,” Dalian called as he strolled into the dining room early the next morning, his gait as light and cheery as his disposition. “I understand I owe each of you a debt of gratitude.” Forks lowered at his declaration, and all gazes turned in his direction. “Harvey tells me that you folks spent the better part of yesterday clearing out the rumble, while I was out on the range tending to my . . . cattle.” No one but Harvey caught the pause in that explanation, and he quirked a brow at his friend.
Cattle my eye
, he thought with a smirk. “Anyway, if you folks are able and willing to help a bit more, we’ll be raising us a new barn this morning, with the help of my neighbors. That’s one of the elements of my life I appreciate more than most – the willingness of a neighbor to help another. We have some mighty fine people living around here that you are going to have the pleasure of meeting and working with today. Now, bear in mind, that this isn’t necessarily what you signed on for, so you aren’t under any obligation to assist, but many of you came out here because you wanted to experience what this sort of life was genuinely like. Well, building and repairing our buildings is a daily part of living. And if you need incentive to work today, well our women folk get together to ensure that we men get fed a hearty meal that you can rest assured will be some mighty good eating. And there’s bound to be some fresh-baked homemade pies for dessert.” Murmurs of appreciation sounded at that announcement and Dalian grinned.
Yep,
he thought,
men everywhere are pretty much the same. Mention food, sex, or money and you can get them to do about anything.
“And before you go fretting, Miss Chloe, I’m not going to be asking you or Kat to pick up a hammer today, but you’re mighty welcome to help Mrs. Guthrie and the neighbor women in the kitchen, if you’d like. That’s what Kat said she’s gonna do.”

“That sounds more my speed, for certain.” Chloe said, sighing in relief. “And Dalian, I know you and Harvey are doing everything humanly possible to keep our minds off of what happened to you and Kat, and we appreciate that, but has there been any further news from the sheriff’s office? Weren’t you supposed to hear something sometime today?”

“I expect to be hearing something from the sheriff this morning, or early afternoon at the latest, but what I don’t expect is that he’ll have anything negative to say about any of you. After all, I can’t see that any of you have acted in a suspicious nature.” Dalian heard murmurs of concurrence, and suddenly appreciated that his assertion comforted him also. Not one person seated in his dining room had been enraged at having their lives turned topsy turvy, had objected overly much at being named a person of interest; had, in fact, worked in concert with Dalian, Harvey, and the sheriff to see things returned to normal as quickly as possible. Each person could have demanded a refund and an end to their vacation, but not one had – except for Cal Withers. It gave him hope for humanity. In fact, he could not recall a time in recent history when turbulence and joy concurrently filled his life. The sense of serenity faded as his ponderings concluded with a ‘yeah, but there is still someone out there who’s determined to do you or Kat harm. And if not one of these people, then who?’ thought.

He sighed and looked at Harvey, who quickly read the worry in Dalian’s eyes. He stood, “Well, folks, if any of you are willing to get a little sweaty and dirty, we’ll be starting on that barn in about an hour. In the meantime, eat up. You’re gonna need your energy.”

As soon as everyone refocused on his or her meal, Harvey made his way over to Dalian, “You alright?”

“I don’t know. At times, it’s easy to forget what happened earlier in the week, and at other
times, I feel as if there is a boogieman just in the shadows waiting to catch Kat or me unawares. It’s no way to live, old man.”

“I agree, and I certainly admire your attempts to keep things running as routine as possible while the sheriff conducts his investigation. Keeping busy is one of the better ways in which to keep thoughts from running amok,
that’s for certain. Why don’t you give the sheriff a call and see if he has any comfort to give? I’m especially curious to know if he turned up anything on Mr. Cal Withers.”

“I was considering giving him a call, but then decided to wait. He’s got a lot of information to wade through and doesn’t need me harping at him. So, what makes you say that about Cal?”

“Didn’t notice Cal isn’t among the guests this morning? Mrs. Guthrie said the rooster had only just signaled a start to the day when he was loading up his stuff and driving off. Apparently, the sheriff’s request that he wait here until fingerprint clearance was issued didn’t sink in deep enough. Makes a body wonder as to what secrets he’s running from.”

Dalian scanned the faces of his guests, but didn’t spot Cal. For the second time in a twenty-four hour span, his curiosity over Cal’s behavior was peaked. First, he acts contrary to a man of his dimensions, and then he bolts against the advice of law enforcement. Both, characteristics of a person with something to hide. “Could he be the assailant?” He asked Harvey. “But, if he is, what is his motivation?”

“I don’t know whether he is or not, but his behavior is seriously contradictory.”

“I can’t argue that. Still, it could be simply that he’s behind on child support or something
like that. You know how I feel about jumping to conclusions.”

“Yeah, a person jumping to conclusions is likely to jump into an unseen pile of dung.”

“Yep, still, it might be best to inform the sheriff of his early departure. See what he has to say about it. Of course, I don’t like to borrow trouble. Could be the man really is a coward in a body-builder’s physique. Being physically fit doesn’t automatically equate a person with bravery.”

Harvey sighed, “True enough, and if I was to be honest about it, there didn’t seem to be anything off about him. He seemed like a regular Joe Blow; a bit jealous over your relationship with Kat, but I can’t say as I blame him for that. Being jealous doesn’t mean being willing to kill. I mean, look at Marsha and Chloe. Both women would jump into bed with you with just a crook of your finger, but neither would kill another woman just to get there.”

“True, although I still have my doubts about both women’s mental stability, but I don’t really know enough about Cal to make any sort of assessment. It does make you wonder though. I mean, being a regular Joe Blow doesn’t preclude violent tendencies. Everyone probably said that David Berkowitz, Carroll Cole, Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer
[3]
, and others like them, were just regular guys – and now I’m just psyching myself out.”

“Yeah, you’re psyching me out too with your eerie knowledge of so many serial killers. I’ve known you the better part of twenty years, and didn’t realize you had that level of fascination with the macabre.”

Dalian laughed, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, old man.”

“Obviously. So, you definitely planning to help with the barn today? Or do you and Kat have another picnic planned?” Harvey asked with a wink of the eye.

Dalian grinned, “I’d like nothing better than a repeat of yesterday, but no, I plan to help out with the barn, which means I’d better get some food in me before it’s all gone. You eaten yet?”

“Nope, and I just realized that Kat isn’t around. She isn’t alone is she? She planning to eat breakfast?”

“I left her in the kitchen with Mrs. Guthrie. They’re planning to eat while they bake. Apparently they anticipate feeding an army.”

“Well, if past experience is any indicator, they probably will be.”

The two men continued their amiable discussion as they piled food high atop their plates and settled in to eat.

Cal slowed his speed as he approached the front gate of The
Heart of the Mountain
Dude Ranch, but his pulse refused to slow. As when he left, the horde of reporters converged on his car when each realized his destination was the ranch. He sighed heavily and pulled to a stop at the gate, delighted that law enforcement prohibited the nosy journalists sticking microphones in his window. He took a deep breath and affected a calm demeanor when the police officer approached.

“Mr. Withers, isn’t it? We were under the impression you didn’t intend to return.”

“I wasn’t planning to, but I left my IPod and some other personals in my room. I need to get them.”

“Not a problem.” The officer nodded at the sheriff manning the entrance to the main drive. With a return nod, the sheriff opened the immense gate and swung it open, just wide enough for Cal to slip past the wrought iron without scratching the gray paint on his rental car. He waited until he rounded the first bend in the drive, when he was certain he was out of sight of both the main gate and the main house, and then turned off onto one of the many paths used by both guests and maintenance vehicles. He hadn’t thought much about these off roads on his first trek up this drive; however, when he’d spotted it on his way out – or rather when his constant mental companion noticed it – it became part of the plan. The objective at this point, was to wend around without a ranch hand or guest spotting him, and find a location in which to hide the car. A place that he could easily access for a quick escape, once he executed his cerebral collaborator’s plan.

There
! His mind shouted so loudly that he instinctively stomped on the brake.

“Would you mind not screaming inside my head like that? Especially when “there” doesn’t do me a bit of good. Where is there?”

If you kept your eyes opened as well as I do, I wouldn’t have to shout, and if you’d just turn your head to the right, you’ll see the there to which I’m referring.

Cal saw the space between the shrub grasses, backed up a short bit, and then turned the wheel to the right. “I only hope the car doesn’t get bogged down in something, or that we don’t wind up in a ditch.” He muttered beneath his breath. He winced as he heard the branches of bushes scratch at the car’s surface. He imagined they were the tiny fingers of demons taunting him; waiting to haul him off to hell for allowing his mind control over his actions. Of course, he’d allowed that control for the better part of twenty years, so why he suddenly felt apprehensive over his mind’s actions was beyond his comprehension. “Maybe because you never played this sort of game before. Pitting your charm and looks against another. Having to commit murder to get a person’s interest.”

No, you just committed murder when it was time to move on to another target. Now stop mewling like a banshee and man up.

“I wish you’d stop talking as if I were the only one to kill those people...”

You were.

“Yeah but you’re the one that decided it was time to kill them.”

It was. Stop here.

Cal obeyed as he’d done his entire life – with a sigh of resignation, growing agitation, and
renewed desire for a return of individualism. If he had any courage at all, he would kick the entity out of his head, but he knew it was more than just a lack of bravery, it also had to do with a lack of knowledge, and, admittedly, a small measure of gratification. He neither knew how to get rid of the voice in his head, nor knew how to live a life without it. The voice was right, without it, his life would have been ho-hum, lacking excitement and wealth. Or would it? Did he only believe that because the voice made him believe it?

You seem to have forgotten that I can hear your thoughts.
The voice said in a contemptuous manner.
You are beginning to doubt the benefit of our symbiosis. Perhaps I’ll just leave now and let you explain your way out of all of this yourself. Explain why you left against the sheriff’s dictate, why you are carrying a gun in the car, why you’re creeping about in the bushes . . .”

“No! Stop! I’ll curb my thoughts.”

Without me, you’re nothing. You’d have nothing. Say it!”

“My life would be nothing without you.”

And you best not forget again, that the only thoughts you’re permitted are those that I give you.

“I understand.”

Good. Get out of the car, collect the gun, and let’s get into position. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let someone take what I want.