The Coltons: Return to Wyoming

Nina had told her to stay in bed, drink lots of fluids and had promised she’d stop by this evening with dinner for both her and her son, Billy.

Just before she finished packing up the food, she threw into the bag a couple of her special double chocolate chip cookies, knowing that they were one of Billy’s favorites.

Billy was almost a daily visitor to the diner. Grace worked an eight-to-five schedule, and Billy would come in after school during the weekdays and take a two-top table in the corner to wait for his mom’s shift to be over.

He was a cute kid with shiny brown hair and blue eyes like his mother. He was also a good kid, who sat quietly and did his homework, never bothering anyone while he was there. Nina had taken to him immediately, as she did most of the younger diners who came in with their parents.

Darkness had already fallen when Nina finally stepped out of the back door of the diner where her car was parked. Clad in a long-sleeved white blouse and a pair of black slacks that all the waitresses wore, she wished she’d thought of bringing her coat with her that morning as the night had brought with it a nip of a wintry chill.

She got into her car and placed the bag of food on the passenger seat and then turned her key to start the engine. She frowned at the sound of the familiar whir-whir of her battery refusing to catch. She turned the ignition off, waited a minute and then tried again, grateful to hear the engine finally roar to a start.

Gus at Dead River Auto Body had put in a new battery for her last week, but had warned her that the problem might be her alternator.

She waited for the heater to begin to blow warmth, trying to decide when she could take the time off to get the car back in for Gus to fix. Most days and evenings she was at the diner.

She supposed she could drop it off on the way to work one morning and pick it up on the way home. She could get either one of the cooks or a waitress to drive her from the auto shop in the morning and take her back there in the evening.

As she waited, she thought of all the recent events that had changed the town she had come to love and call home.

It was hard to believe that it was just a month ago that Mimi Rand, a local socialite, had returned to town with a baby she claimed was Flint’s brother Theo’s, the result of one night the two had spent together.

She’d arrived at Theo’s house, introduced him to the three-month-old little girl and then collapsed.

Dr. Lucas Rand, the head doctor at the Dead River Clinic had worked desperately to save the woman, who was also his ex-wife, but she had died anyway. By the time of her death, another man was dead along with two children, also suffering from the same mysterious symptoms.

When Flint’s grandmother, Dottie Colton, had fallen ill along with a teenage boy, the town was shut down by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Overnight the town had transformed from a small tight-knit community to something out of a science-fiction film. CDC trailers and equipment now surrounded the Dead River Clinic, and National Guard and other security forces, who looked like space men in their HAZMAT gear and guns, formed a perimeter around the town. Nobody in...nobody out.

With warm air finally blowing out of her car’s heater vents, Nina pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward Grace Willard’s small home.

She hoped her words to Molly proved true, that Grace had a simple cold or a common case of the flu and not the Dead River virus, of which the initial symptoms were very similar but then escalated quickly until the patient was deathly ill with severe respiratory issues and a high fever.

Nina wasn’t afraid for herself by going to Grace’s house. She figured she’d already been exposed to the virus day after day with the stream of people who came into the diner to eat. Of course, as a waitress, Grace would have the same kind of exposure and so would Billy.

There had also been the escape of a hardened criminal and Molly’s heartbreak, and all of these issues had changed the very heart and soul of Dead River.

Everyone regarded everyone else with suspicion, wondering who might be sick with the mysterious illness or who might be some sort of carrier. Then there were the suspicions of who might be helping the two fugitives in town, killer Hank Bittard and Molly’s jerk, Jimmy Johnson.

She desperately hoped that the Thanksgiving feast she had planned would bring people together, bring back a sense of community and remind everyone that they were all in this mess together, but the holiday was still weeks away. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem likely that a cure would be found by then.

Just before turning onto the side street where Grace lived, she frowned and slowed as she saw a couple near the streetlamp just ahead. As she drove closer, a sense of horror swept through her.

In the spill of illumination from the light, she could now see that it was a man and a woman. The man had a rope around the woman’s neck, and although Nina couldn’t hear a scream or a single indication of the woman’s terror, she felt it ripple through her blood.

Nina stopped her car, unsure what she should do but knowing she needed to do something and fast. It would take her too long to dig her cell phone out of her purse and call for help.

Still, if she didn’t do something quickly she knew that the woman would be strangled to death. She opened her car door and stepped halfway out.

“Hey,” she cried out. “Hey, you, let her go!”

At that moment the woman fell to the ground in a boneless drop that made Nina realize it was too late, the woman was definitely unconscious or possibly dead. As the man raised his head and stared at her, Nina’s heartbeat raced with a frantic rhythm.

He started toward her, and she nearly stumbled as she got back into her car and locked the doors. She had to get out of here and fast. Her heart nearly halted as she realized her car had stopped running.

“Come on, come on,” she cried as she turned the key and heard the familiar grinding noise. She glanced out the window to see that the man was getting closer...closer.

“Please,” she begged as she pumped the gas and tried to start the car again, knowing that if she didn’t get rolling she was a sitting duck for a man who had just possibly committed a murder right in front of her eyes.

Chapter 2

Terrified, sobbing gasps escaped Nina, and she cried out in relief as headlights appeared from a car coming from the opposite direction on the road. Maybe the presence of another car, of other people, would stop the man and save her.

Her engine finally started. For a single instant her gaze caught the killer’s, his cold and glittering with unsuppressed rage.

She threw her car into gear and spun out, nearly losing control of it in an effort to escape the scene. She sped down the residential road, passing Grace’s house as she continued to play and replay in her mind what had just happened, what she had just seen.

She needed to get to the police station. Maybe the woman on the ground wasn’t really dead, but had just been strangled to unconsciousness. If Nina got help soon enough, maybe she could still be saved.

Surely the man had run from the scene when he’d seen the other car coming and knew that if he stuck around, there would be more witnesses to what he had done.

A glance in her rearview mirror showed no car pursuing her. She hadn’t even seen a vehicle near the corner where the man might have come from, but she’d been riveted to the struggle, not looking for nearby cars.

It took her only minutes to pull onto Main Street and squeal to a halt in front of the police station. She jumped out of the car and raced inside, still crying with shock and fear.

She flew past Glenda McDonald, who worked the night shift at the front desk. “Hey, wait,” Glenda yelled in protest as Nina burst through the door that led into the inner sanctum of the station.

Flint appeared seemingly from nowhere and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Nina, what’s wrong?” he asked urgently.

“I...I think I just saw a murder.” She was once again overwhelmed by sobs as she tried to choke out what had happened. She was vaguely aware of Officer Mike Harriman moving closer to where they stood with Flint still firmly grasping her.

She feared that if he released his hold on her, she’d fall to the floor as her legs shook so badly beneath her, and she couldn’t halt the violent trembling of her entire body.

“Where did this happen?” Flint asked, his handsome features tense, and his green eyes piercing as he stared at her intently.

“At the corner of Cherry and Oak Street. I was on my way to Grace Willard’s house when I saw them struggling near the streetlight. I think he killed her, Flint. I think she was dead when I drove off.”

Flint gave a nod to Mike, who immediately left, taking with him Officer Sam Blair. Flint guided Nina to a chair and gently pushed her to sit. He knelt down to one knee, his calm demeanor a counter to the terror that still screamed silently inside her.

He didn’t speak for several moments, and she finally stopped crying and felt his calm slowly sweeping through her. Even the scent of his woodsy cologne smelled of safety.

“Better?” he asked.

She nodded and released a deep sigh. “A little better.”

“Good. I need you to be as clearheaded as possible and answer some questions for me.” He stood and grabbed a chair from a nearby desk and pulled it in front of her. He sat close, his knees almost touching hers. “What did the man look like?”

Nina frowned, trying to fight the fear that leaped back into her throat as she thought about the man she’d seen. “He was dressed all in black, and he had dark hair and evil, glittering eyes.”

“What color eyes?”

“I’m not sure. I think they were dark, but the lighting was bad.”

“Was he young or old?”

“Maybe late twenties or early thirties,” she replied.

“What kind of build? Tall...short...skinny?” Flint’s gaze never left hers. She hadn’t noticed before that his green eyes held a faint touch of gold right in the center, along with a sharp focus that made it appear he was looking not just at her, but rather into her very soul.

She finally broke their gaze, looking down at her trembling hands in her lap. “He was tall and had a muscular build.” A sob welled up, and she swallowed hard against it as she remembered the sight of his arm muscles bulging, his taut neck muscles as he pulled the rope so tight against the woman’s throat.

“Sounds like Bittard. Was it Hank?”

Nina shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know...maybe. It was dark and everything happened so fast. I didn’t get a solid look at him. Plus, I’ve only seen Hank a couple of times and that was before he murdered Donny Gilmore at the gas station. Hank never came into the diner so I only saw him from a distance. That, plus his mug shot.”

The conversation was interrupted by the ring of Flint’s cell phone in his pocket. He grabbed the phone and stood, walking away from where Nina sat as he answered.

Nina tracked him with her eyes, afraid that if she didn’t look at him she’d fall back into the utter terror that had momentarily gripped her and still simmered just beneath the surface.

Flint was on the phone only a minute or two and then he came back to her and sat once again, his face a study in both weariness and a simmering anger.

“It had to have been Bittard. The woman is Jolene Tate, and she is dead.”

Nina gasped, and tears rose to her eyes once again. “Why would he kill her?”

“She was Hank’s off-and-on girlfriend and was at the Dead River Gas Station the night Hank killed Donny. She was a key eyewitness to the murder and intended to testify against Hank.”

He slammed a fist against his thigh. “Dammit, I should have insisted she go into protective custody when Hank escaped, but she wanted nothing to do with it and refused to even talk about it.” He rubbed the center of his forehead, as if attempting to ease a headache. “Did he see you? Did the man you saw strangle Jolene get a good look at you?”

Nina raised a hand to her throat, a new fear searing through her. “I...I don’t know. I mean, I can’t be sure how well he saw me. He was more in the light than I was, but I’m not sure if he recognized me or not. I’m not sure even if he got a good look at me that he would know who I was.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I should have done something more. I should have done something to help her.”

“You did the right thing in getting out of there and coming right here,” Flint said. “We shouldn’t take any chances and assume that he didn’t recognize you. You need to be in protective custody.”

“Protective custody?” She repeated the words mindlessly.

He stood once again and for just a moment his eyes were a haunting deep green that she was sure held deep, dark secrets. “You can stay with me at my place.”

“But surely that isn’t necessary,” she protested.

“Jolene Tate was just murdered, and you’re an eyewitness. I don’t have the manpower right now to keep you covered twenty-four-seven. With two fugitives on the loose, we’re just stretched too thin.”

“I’m not even sure how much of a look he got of me. I was across the street from him, and we didn’t have any real interaction before he looked up. It’s very possible he couldn’t pick me out of a lineup.”

She stood, surprised to find herself still a bit shaky. His offer to stay in his house had stunned her. The idea was both a little bit thrilling and a little bit scary. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, but I would appreciate it if you’d drive me home. I have to confess, I feel a little too shook up to drive myself.”

He frowned. “Nina, I still think it would be best if you didn’t go home, if you aren’t alone until I get this creep back into custody.”

“Flint, I appreciate your concern, but I’m not going to hole up somewhere on the off chance that he actually got a good look at me. It’s a dark night, and I only saw him because of the streetlight, but I wasn’t in the light.” The last place she wanted to be was confined to Flint’s home and living in his space.

She had a business to run, a life to live, and it didn’t include being in his protective custody. Besides, the more she thought about it, the more she was fairly certain that the man probably hadn’t seen her well enough to identify her. The entire incident had only taken mere seconds, although it had felt like an eternity when it was happening.

“Please, if you’ll just take me home, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I can have one of the waitresses take me to work in the morning and then somebody can bring me by here tomorrow evening to pick up my car.” She raised her chin in a show of strength. “Besides, with everything that’s going on around here you have more than enough on your plate without worrying about me.”

Flint raked a hand through his hair, as if to show a frustration he didn’t want to verbalize. “It’s my job to worry about you, but if you insist, I’ll drive you home,” he finally relented. “However, if you feel threatened in any way by anything, you have to promise me that you’ll call me immediately, day or night.”

“I promise. In any case I have a security system at my house, so I’m sure I’ll be just fine.” She frowned as she remembered the reason she’d turned down that particular road in the first place. “Could you do me one favor on the way? I was taking Grace and her son, Billy, some food. It’s in my car, and if you could stop by her house and run it into them, I’d really appreciate it.”

He stared at her as if she were an alien creature. “You just witnessed a murder and yet you’re worried about Grace and her son having dinner?”

“Grace is sick. I promised to bring by a meal tonight. No matter what just happened, she and Billy are still expecting supper from me.”

He pulled his car keys from his pocket and grabbed his hat off a nearby desk. “Okay, let’s get moving.”

Within minutes they were in his car, the bag of food on Nina’s lap. “If you think of anything else that might be helpful to me finding Bittard, you call me immediately,” he said as they pulled away from the police station.

She nodded, surprised to find a bit of comfort in the fact that the car smelled of his pleasant cologne. She was also grateful that he took another route to Grace’s house, avoiding the place where the murder had occurred.

When they pulled into Grace’s driveway, Flint turned to her. “You sit tight in the car, lock the doors when I get out and I’ll deliver the food to the door.” His voice brooked no argument, not that she was of a mind to. He took the bag from her, opened the car door and got out.

She locked the doors and watched him walk up to the front door, wondering if she’d made a mistake in insisting he take her home. She felt calm enough now that she could have just driven herself.

She frowned and rubbed the center of her forehead as a headache attempted to take hold. Had the man seen her well enough to know who she was? Did he know her name? Where she lived? Would he now come after her in an attempt to kill another witness?

She wished she had family in town. She wished she had somebody who could take her in for a few weeks, but if there was danger she certainly didn’t want to bring it close to any of her friends. At least she had the security system that would alert her to anyone attempting to enter her house.

She knew Flint and his team of deputies would be more determined than ever to catch Bittard with this new murder. Surely she’d be fine until they got the killer back in custody.

She watched as the door opened and light spilled out. Grace waved and then took the bag from Flint. As he started back to the car, Nina unlocked the doors.

“She said to tell you she was feeling a little better,” he said when he was behind the steering wheel once again.

“Thank goodness. She went home yesterday with a headache and a cough. I was afraid she might have caught...” She allowed her voice to trail off. She didn’t even want to speak her fear aloud. “By the way, how is your grandmother doing?” She knew that Dottie Colton had come down with the virus and had been in the hospital for the past couple of weeks.

“According to Dr. Rand, she’s stable, but she’s still unconscious.” He cast her a sideways glance. “Is it easier to talk about the virus than the fact that you just witnessed a murder?”

A chill invaded her despite the warmth inside the car. “I don’t want to think about that poor woman. I just wish I could have done something to stop it from happening. I wish I could have done something to force him to leave and run away before she died.” She clenched her fists in despair.

“Then I might be investigating two murders, Jolene’s and yours. You did the right thing by driving away, by not engaging with the man, especially if it was Bittard. He’s a cold-blooded killer and we now think he might possibly be armed again. There’s been some robberies in the past couple of days and among the things stolen have been a knife and a gun and rope.”

“Rope that he used to strangle Jolene,” she said flatly, fighting against another chill that tried to shiver down her spine.

“Forensics will tell us if the rope used to strangle Jolene is the same kind that was stolen. We’ll know more in the next couple of days after a full investigation is completed.”

In the glow from the dashboard, his handsome features looked slightly haggard, as if he hadn’t slept well for weeks. “You’ll catch him, Flint. You’ll catch him and that little creep, Jimmy, too. The doctors will find a cure for the virus and before you know it, Dead River will be back to normal.”

He slid her a wry look. “From your lips...” The rest of the sentence wasn’t spoken as he turned onto her street.

Nina looked out the front window of the car and gasped in surprise. The street was alive with the swirl of red lights from patrol cars and fire trucks that serviced the small city.

Firefighters in full gear ran with hoses toward the blaze that lit up the entire street and licked upward to the sky. Black smoke rolled up, creating a dark cloud in the otherwise clear night.

What was happening? What on earth was burning so fiercely?

Nina stared at it all in stunned disbelief. It was her house. Her house was on fire. A choking sob welled up inside her and released, followed by another...and another.

Flint pulled to the curb behind one of the fire trucks. “Stay here,” he commanded sternly. “Lock the doors and do not get out of this car under any circumstances for anyone but me.”

She couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it as she watched the window of her living room explode outward. She’d bought the house just a little under a year ago and had spent the past months making it into the home she’d always dreamed of, and now she watched as everything she’d worked so hard for went up in flames.

She’d hand-picked each and every item from the bright yellow throw pillows on the sofa to the little water fountain that sat on one of her coffee tables. Gone...they were gone.

She saw Flint talking to a man she recognized as Stan Burrell, the fire chief. She watched the two men for only a moment and then turned her attention back to the house in time to see the roof collapse.

Numb. She was completely numb as she realized she’d lost everything. The flowered pink lamp in her bedroom, the cheerful daisy arrangement that had greeted her each morning on her kitchen table...everything was destroyed.

Had there been a wiring problem? Had she accidentally left on an appliance that morning that had shorted out and started the fire? How on earth had this happened?

Her neighbors stood on the sidewalk. Thank God there was no wind tonight, nothing to aid a spark from finding its way to their homes. In any case, it appeared that the firefighters had given up attempting to save her place and instead worked to make sure the fire remained contained to her home alone.

It was probably easy to contain a fire that had already consumed everything inside, she thought in despair and watched an outside wall fall inward. She wasn’t even aware she was crying until she reached a hand up to her cheek and found it wet.

How had this happened? Her life was suddenly a scene from some crazy movie she didn’t want to watch. Her mind worked desperately to find the positives. Thank God she hadn’t been home and she didn’t have any pets.

Thank God she had good insurance. She could use the cot in the diner and live in the back storage room until she rebuilt. Thank God it was just things that had been destroyed and things could always be replaced.

Still, no matter how many positives she tried to make of the situation, she continued to cry silently. She’d thought she’d left all the bad things behind her when she left home. She’d believed that had been the worst time in her life, but tonight was right up there on the list of terrible things she had endured in her lifetime.

Flint returned to the car, a tense pulse in his jaw working overtime. “I’ll have a full report sometime tomorrow, but there’s no question in Stan’s mind that this was arson. The ignition points appear to be all four corners of the house, and he believes gasoline was used as an accelerant. Somebody intentionally set the fire, either as a warning to you or hoping you would be inside. If I were a betting man, I’d wager that the man you saw kill Jolene tonight definitely recognized you.”

She stared at him, the fear so great inside her she couldn’t find words to speak. He started the car. “You’re coming home with me,” he continued. “You’ll be staying at my place until I find Bittard and get him behind bars.” He said the words not as a suggestion but rather as a statement of fact.

She simply nodded, knowing that even though the last place she wanted to stay was Flint’s house, it appeared she was out of options. She couldn’t deny the fact that her life was in danger.

* * *

Flint stood at his kitchen window, watching the first streaks of dawn beginning to light the sky. He was already working on his second cup of coffee, knowing that with the lack of sleep the night before, he’d need a good caffeine buzz to get him through what promised to be a long day ahead.