Chapter 22
The ping of an incoming text pulled Stu Whittier from sleep. He rolled to his side and pulled the blankets over his shoulder. The phone dinged again. And again. Rubbing his eyes, he reached for the phone.
Stu hit the home button and brought up the messages.
There were five different texts. But they all said the same thing.
The cops are on the way.
Meet me at Frisky’s.
Adrenaline surged through his veins. Stu’s heart slammed against his ribs as panic clawed at his throat. He rose from bed and went to the window. Peering through a chink where the blinds had broken, he looked outside. A sheriff’s vehicle rolled into the parking lot.
Stu had only a few minutes before the cops would be on his doorstep. He slipped his feet into shoes and shoved his phone into the pocket of his sleep pants. He walked to the living room at the back of his apartment and opened the window. Stu pulled the screen loose and tossed it aside.
Where were the deputies now? Had they pulled into a spot near his building? Were they, even now, walking to his front door?
He leaned over the sill. The dumpster sat beneath his apartment window. The lid was closed. It was a perfect place to land. Swinging his legs over the sill, he looked back at the dumpster. From where he sat, it looked farther down than it had only moments before.
Outside, he heard footsteps on the stairwell.
Drawing in a deep breath, he launched himself into the air. For an instant, Stu’s stomach rose to his chest. His feet slammed onto the dumpster’s lid, sending him forward. He landed on his knees and his hands. Then, he pitched to the side.
The ground came up fast. Asphalt bit into his shoulder and hip.
From his apartment came the sharp rap of knuckles on wood. “Stark County Sheriff. Open up.”
Stu limped to his feet. A chain-link fence separated the back of his apartment complex from the shopping center. Ignoring the raw flesh on his palms and the ache in his knees, he climbed over the fence. Then, he started to run.
It was noon when Cal dropped Aiden off at the Red Grove University Hospital. After spending a fruitless morning searching for Stu Whittier, he knew that he had to see Lucy. She deserved to know that law enforcement had an ID for the man who’d tried to kill her.
He found Rusty Harris’s room and knocked lightly on the door.
“Come in,” Lucy called out.
He pushed the door open. She sat on a recliner next to her grandfather’s bed. Her shoes were off, and her feet were tucked underneath her. She rested a stack of papers on her knee and held a pen.
In the bed, Rusty was propped up on pillows and stared at a muted TV screen.
“Hey,” said Aiden. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Rusty turned off the TV. “I’m always happy to have company.”
Aiden said, “I heard that you’re headed to rehab in a few days.”
“It’ll be better than just laying around here,” said the old man. “I don’t do well with boredom.”
Lucy lifted the stack of papers. “Ted stopped by with the contract. I’m reading it over. So far, he’s been more than generous. I hate to let the ranch go…”
Her grandfather patted the back of her hand. “But it’s time.” He turned back to Aiden. “It’s funny that for several days, I couldn’t remember the accident. Didn’t remember leaving the house or getting in the truck or any of it.”
Temporary amnesia was a common side effect of head injuries. “I’m sure the doctor already told you this, but your memories will return with time and rest.”
“That’s the thing,” said Rusty. “Bits of memory, like a snapshot, are starting to come back.”
“That’s good news, Grandpa,” said Lucy. “Right, Aiden?”
He nodded. “It means that you’re healing. So, it’s excellent news.”
Rusty’s expression darkened, like a cloud passing over the sun. “It’s just that I remember stepping on the brakes and the truck not being able to stop.”
The old man’s recollections lined up with everything Aiden had found at the scene of the wreck.
The tire marks. The cut in the brake line.
Callum’s deputies had towed the truck to the state police but there were no findings from their investigation yet.
“That’s one of the reasons I’ve stopped by,” he began.
“The crime lab found a partial fingerprint on the lock. It belongs to Stu Whittier.”
“Derek’s old friend?” Rusty asked.
“Old friend?” Lucy snorted. “He’s always been bad news.”
“A BOLO has been released for Stu. Every law enforcement officer in the county is looking for him now. It’s only a matter of time until he turns up.”
“But why would he try to kill Lucy, or me for that matter?” the old man asked.
“He wants the land,” said Lucy. “He made me an offer a while back. Said he was working for someone. It didn’t matter who he was representing. I’d never sell to the likes of Stu.”
“I guess my question is why would he want the land?” Aiden asked. “What’s so important that he’d be willing to murder someone?”
“We all know that it has something to do with the drug trade,” said Lucy.
Aiden didn’t know anything. But he imagined that her guess was correct.
The old man turned to him. “Ted’s your foster brother?”
“Yessir, he is.”
“You’ve known him a long time?”
“Almost my whole life,” said Aiden. “And honestly, I don’t think of him as a foster anything. He’s my brother, same as Callum or Dylan or Wyatt.”
“And you trust him?” the old man asked.
Did he? “Of course.”
Rusty patted the back of Lucy’s hand once more. “It’s time, Lucy. You need to sign that contract. Let someone with more power than us—someone like the mayor—deal with the likes of Stu Whittier and his boss.”
She sat for a minute, looking at the contract. Then, she let out a long breath and scribbled her signature on the document. “There,” she said, tapping the pages on her knee to stack them. “It’s done.”
Aiden rubbed the back of her shoulder. “How do you feel?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I guess I should call Ted and let him know that the deal is done.”
Her cell sat on a table, and she picked it up. After tapping on the screen, she placed a call. With the phone to her ear, she said, “It’s Lucy. I wanted to let you know that I signed the paperwork.” She paused, her gaze shooting to Aiden. “Actually, he’s right here.”
Lucy held out the phone. “Ted wants to talk to you.”
He took the cell. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
Ted said, “I got a call from the bartender at Frisky’s. She thinks Stu is hanging out in the parking lot.”
Frisky’s was a bar, located a few miles outside of town. It was known for its live music, chicken wings, and frequent fights.
His pulse started to race. “Call Callum.”
“I tried. There was no answer.” Ted paused. “I’m going out there now.”
What in the hell was Ted thinking? “You can’t confront someone like that. He might be armed. He’s definitely dangerous.”
“We know where he is at this minute. What we don’t know is where he’ll be later.”
It was the same thing he’d said to Callum earlier this morning.
And still, Stu had gotten away. He couldn’t waste time waiting for someone else to show up.
The gun was still at the small of Aiden’s back.
The grip bit into his flesh. “I’m at the hospital.
Come by and get me. We can stop by the bar and see if Stu’s still there. ”
“I’m on my way.”
Aiden ended the call and handed the phone to Lucy. “Stay here with your grandfather.”
She rose to her feet. “Where are you going?”
“Someone called in a sighting of Stu. I’m going with Ted to check it out.” He pulled her into a hug. “I’ll be in touch.”
She melted into his embrace. “Be careful.”
He tightened his grip and then let her go. There were so many things he wanted to say, but now wasn’t the time. “I’ll see you soon.”
Aiden walked down the corridor. His footfalls rang out like shots.
Pulling the phone from his pocket, he found Callum’s number and placed a call.
It was answered after the first ring. “Hey,” he said, before his brother got a chance to speak.
“I’m on my way to Frisky’s. The bartender called Ted.
She thinks that Stu is lurking around the parking lot. We’re going to check it out now.”
“There was another sighting that turned out to be nothing,” said Cal. “I’m fifteen minutes out. I’ll meet you at the bar.”
The front doors to the hospital opened automatically as he approached. Sun reflected off the roof of Ted’s car as he pulled up next to the curb. “See you there,” he said before ending the call.
Aiden opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. “Thanks for picking me up.”
Ted pulled away from the hospital. “I still haven’t heard from Callum.”
Was it funny that his brother hadn’t mentioned missing a call from Ted? Or maybe there were just so many moving parts of the investigation that he forgot to mention anything. “I just talked to him,” he said. “He’s heading to the bar now.”
Ted gripped the steering wheel tighter. His knuckles turned white. “Will he get there before we do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, then,” said Ted, letting out a long breath. “We’ve got this.”
Aiden wished he had Ted’s confidence. “We’re just going to see if he’s there. If he is, we’ll call Callum. He’s the one who’ll arrest him.”
“Yeah, of course.” Ted dropped his foot onto the accelerator. The car shot down the road.
In the middle of the day, there wasn’t much traffic.
It took only a few minutes to drive to Frisky’s.
The old cinder block building was surrounded by broken pavement and gravel.
There were two windows and a door at the front of the bar.
A neon sign hung in one window. The word Open was illuminated in yellow script.
In the other window hung a sign for Golden Elk, a locally brewed beer.
At the back of the bar was an overgrown wood, filled at the edge with beer bottles and wrappers.
Half a dozen cars were scattered in the lot.
None of them belonged to Stu Whittier.
“I don’t think he’s here,” said Aiden.