Serial Love: Saints Protection & Investigation (10 page)

He ran his fingers lovingly along the flat edge of the knife, careful not to cut himself.
You’re so pretty,
he thought while admiring the knife’s perfection.
You want more don’t you? You want to be used.
Heaving a sigh, he replaced the weapon into its exile and screwed the cover back on carefully.
Soon. Not now, but soon.

Calmed, he left the bathroom able to face the commotion outside.

B
ethany stepped off
of the lodge porch into the early morning sunlight. Another hot, clear day in the Virginia summer and all of the cabins are rented. Smiling to herself, she heaved a sigh of relief. Leaving the advertising company had not been an easy decision, after all, the money had been excellent and the benefits were really good for a recent graduate. And there was a certain excitement living in the large city, where there was always something going on. She had been determined to enjoy life after college—concerts, plays, art shows, and even clubbing with a few friends had filled her time off. Until Gram became sick, then she withdrew to the country every weekend to help out.

Filling her lungs with the clear air, she then sipped the hot coffee that filled her travel mug. Beginning her early morning walk around, she liked to inspect the cabins and road before deciding what needed to be worked on for the day.

“Can I come too?” Gram said, walking out of the lodge.

Bethany smiled as she turned, seeing Gram in a pair of grey striped pants, a pink flowered top, and purple moccasins on her feet. “You got dressed by yourself this morning,” she remarked with a giggle.

“Well of course I did! I’m not a child,” Gram huffed as she made her way to Bethany, who gave her an affectionate hug.

“I know, Gram. And I’d love your company as I do my walk-around this morning.”

Linking her arm through her grandmothers, they started up the road toward the first cabin. The guests had not risen yet and so the morning was quiet, other than for the sound of the birds gathering around the bird feeders she had set out.

As the two continued to walk, Bethany’s mind was on the list of things that needed to be accomplished. The flower box on cabin three was sagging on one side and had to be refastened later before it fell. She had encouraged Gram to spend more money several years ago and have gutter guards installed so the leaves would not clog the gutters. The guards had been a good decision, but cabin four had a small branch down on its roof which could impact the gutters. Checking that out needed to go on the day’s list as well.

“I’ve been here my whole adult life,” Gram said, her voice breaking the morning silence. “Did you know that I was only eighteen years old when Martin and I married?”

Bethany jerked her gaze over to Gram, seeing her clear-eyed and cognizant. Determined to make the most of the memory, knowing at any moment Gram could slip back into time, she said, “Tell me about him.”

The smile on her grandmother’s face was priceless. They had walked several steps in silence again before she began to speak.

“Martin was so handsome and I fell in love with him when I was only fourteen years old. He was two years older and I thought he was so grown up. My daddy wouldn’t let us date until I was fifteen and for a year we were inseparable.

By this time, they had rounded the lake and were coming to the last two cabins. Bethany kept her attention on her grandmother, knowing that she could easily come back later to check on them. Gram was more important by far.

“He went off to the Army when I was only sixteen years old, but I wrote him every week. He was gone for almost two years and the night he got back, he came to my door.” Gram giggled at the memory. “I nearly ran my daddy down trying to get to the door first.” Bethany grinned, imagining the young Ann rushing to get to her love.

“He stepped in, shook my father’s hand and before I could even kiss him, he turned to my father and asked for my hand in marriage. Daddy was stunned, but I knew he was impressed with Martin as a man.” Gram sighed, saying, “We were married the day after I turned eighteen. Never apart for one night. Not one in all those years. Poor years. Hard years. Until we made this place work. But never a night apart.”

The lodge in sight, the two women headed up the path by the lake. Bethany could hear the stirrings of the guests. Two cabins were full of fishermen spending the weekend and they were preparing to leave for the river nearby. The Taylors had left, only to be replaced by other families spending a week or weekend here in the cabins. A couple on their honeymoon had come in the night before and were in the farthest cabin. That was rare since most young couples prefer honeymoons in exotic locations, but occasionally they did come. For the beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains and the peace of a little cabin in the woods.

If I ever get married, I’d like that too,
Bethany thought. With that, her mind rolled to the handsome neighbor who she had tried not to think about. But his dark, brooding face crowded her dreams at night and images of his powerful body on top of hers caused her to wake in a lust-filled sweat.

She glanced down at Gram’s ankle, the tracking bracelet gleaming in the sunlight. Gram had been concerned at first, not understanding why she had to wear jewelry on her ankle, but she soon became adjusted to it.
To give such a gift, and then turn around and leave so abruptly.
And to be silent for weeks. If ever there was a brush off, I guess that was it.
She wished it did not sting…but it did.

Heaving a sigh as they climbed back up the lodge steps, she forced him out of her mind.
Lots to do today and might as well get going.
“Come on, Gram,” she called. “I’ll fix you breakfast.”

Her grandmother looked up at her and smiled. “Sure Helen, and then we’ll find Charlie.”

Bethany just returned her smile, shaking her head.
Well, it was nice while it lasted.

*

That evening, Bethany
left the stew in the crockpot while she ran outside to investigate the noises she was hearing. At first she just thought it was one of the larger groups talking loudly but the increasingly raised voices were now shouting in anger. As she stepped out on the porch, she saw one pickup truck parked in front of the lodge, the occupants out in the gravel drive arguing with the men in the two other pick-up trucks behind them.

A quick glance down at the angry voices, some slurred with alcohol, caused her to stiffen in anger. Her eyes jerked to the side where two families were hustling their children from the lake back to their cabins.
Damnit!
Gram had followed her to the door and Bethany turned and yelled over her shoulder, “Gram, get back inside. Now.”
Please God, let her do what I ask!

“Gentlemen!” Turning back to the scene below, her voice broke through their ruckus. “I ask that you respect the other guests and keep your voices down.”

One man staggered around looking up at her incredulously. “You wanna know what that son-of-a-bitch did? Cut my line. Had a goddamn winner and he cut my fuckin’ line. He cost me the trophy and $250 in winnings!”

She remembered seeing one of the nearby lakes hosting a fishing contest this weekend and now knew why she had several cabins filled with fishermen.

“Whatever the reason is for your argument, you’ll have to keep your voices down and settle it quietly.” Spearing them with a glare, she continued, “And settling it non-violently. I suggest you all sleep it off.”

“Fuck you,” the man slurred turning back toward the man approaching him.

“I didn’t cut your line, you asshole. It just snapped ’cause you’re a fucking idiot who can’t pull back when you should!” another man interjected, stepping forward.

Before he could continue to protest his innocence, his accuser swung a punch landing it on his jaw, sending him staggering backward onto the gravel.

Uncertain what to do, Bethany instinctively stepped down two steps, screaming, “STOP!” but it was apparent that her voice was ineffective with the ensuing melee. Turning she spied a broom on the front porch and she leaned over grabbing it, to what avail she had no idea.

The man on the ground jumped up and rushed the angry competitor, taking him down in a tackle, both landing hard on the gravel. Bethany watched in amazement as the one who had been drinking managed to straddle the other and began hitting him with his fists, cursing wildly.

“Do something!” she screamed at the other men standing around.

“Hell, they can fight it out themselves,” one burly man answered back. “They ain’t hurtin’ nobody but themselves.”

“They’re hurting my business!” she yelled as she bolted down the steps to the two men now rolling on the ground.

“Oh hell, George, get in there and break it up,” one of the men whined to the burly one.

Bethany swung the broom over her head and brought it down with a whack on the back of the cursing man, seeing blood running from his nose.

“What the fuck?” he roared, swinging back with his arm and connecting with Bethany’s shoulder. With his attention focused on her, the other man got another punch in, connecting with his jaw.

She staggered, raising the broom once more, when the burly man stepped in and grabbed her broom handle.

“Now missy, don’t be getting’ in the way of them two working out their disagreement.”

Before she could react further, the sound of gravel crunching had her jerking her gaze to the road. Two large SUVs sped down the lane and skidded to a stop, sending the rocks flying. To her amazement, four men jumped out, immediately descending on the men fighting. Instantly, she recognized the leader.
Jack? And some of his men?

Startled, she staggered back again, the broom still raised, as she witnessed them quell the fight with little difficulty. The large Hispanic man,
Cam? I think,
had one man pinned against the truck, his hand on the man’s throat. The fisherman was attempting to struggle, but Cam seemed to be holding him in place without any effort.

The other two of Jack’s men, whose names she could not remember, also had two of the fishermen on the ground, their knees planted in their backs as they grinned at each other.

Her body shook with adrenaline coursing through her veins and found it was hard to catch her breath.

Jack jerked the instigator to his feet and propelled him to the bottom of the steps. “You got something to say to the lady, asshole?”

The man’s eyes, wide with fear, looked all around as his drunken mind slowly caught up to what had happened. “Huh?” he said. A shake brought the man’s attention back to Jack’s.

“You start a fight on someone else’s property, in full view of families with small children that are trying to vacation. When asked nicely to stop, you get belligerent. And not only belligerent, but you also insult a lady. I don’t give a shit how drunk you are, you’re gonna apologize right fuckin’ now.” Jack’s voice was low, but the growl was unmistakable.

The man lifted his eyes toward her and mumbled, “Sorry ma’am.”

Bethany opened her mouth to tell them all to pack up and get out, unsure that the words would come out, but Jack handled it for her.

“You’re all leaving and be assured your credit cards will be charged for the full amount of the weekend.”

Several of the men not involved in the fight protested. “We didn’t do anything,” they whined. One look from Jack and they shut their mouths, their expressions changing from whining to fear.

“There’re four of you pussies standing around letting these other assholes argue, cause a public disturbance, insult a woman, and get into a fight. That makes you equally culpable. So take your goddamn friends, pack your shit and get out. You got thirty minutes to do it.”

Chastised, they grabbed their friends and pushed them into the two trucks before driving toward the cabins. Jack jerked his head toward the fishermen, and the other three Saints nodded toward Bethany before getting in one of their SUVs and following the pick-up trucks.

Jack turned his gaze back to the woman standing like a statue on the second step, the broom still clasped in her hands. Her khaki shorts were mid-thigh, but in his opinion they were way too short. His eyes moved to her light blue tank top, showcasing her heaving chest as he continued his gaze upwards to her face. Stalking up the stairs he stopped two below her and was still at eye level. His gaze then dropped to her white knuckles clutching her weapon.

“You want to tell me what the fuck you were doing with that broom?” he asked, his hand reaching out, pulling it away from her and tossing it behind her to the porch.

Her embarrassment was masked by her confusion. “How? How did you know to come?”

Not answering her question, he repeated, “You think that broom was going to do shit? You got a problem, you get inside the house, lock the goddamn door and call the fuckin’ police!”

Her expression changed to irritation. “I wasn’t going to get hurt. I just thought that I’d beat them apart. You know, like dogs fighting.”

At that explanation, he found himself speechless…and furious, but before he could retort, she poked his chest with a finger and repeated, “How did you know something was happening here?”