Page 41 of Diamonds in the Mud

Before I had a chance to open my email, Quincy poked his head in my door.

“Good, you’re here,” he said, stepping in and shutting my door behind him.

“Not for long,” I said, opening the few emails I had. One was from Randy with Edith’s updated chemo schedule.

“We need to talk,” Quincy said, sitting down and leaning forward.

“About?” I asked as I opened the second email. I froze in place when the fuzzy image of Jameson and me filled the screen. The image of us embracing while standing on the porch of the cabin that morning had my heart pounding so loudly that I couldn’t hear or focus on what Quincy was saying.

I shut down my system by quickly hitting the button on the tower. “I… need to head out.”

“We haven’t talked…” Quincy called after me as I rushed from the room.

“Later. After lunch,” I called back. I’m pretty sure I bumped into a few people as I retreated out of the building.

Before I could climb into the patrol car, I got a text message from Jameson.

“Thanks for last night. I enjoyed watching the movie The Surveillance with you.”

Shit. Yeah. We had been watched. That message was loud and clear now. Obviously, the cabin was no longer a safe place. Why? Why were they watching us? Who were they watching? Him or me?

I typed back. “It was a great movie. Next time, you can pick. I trust you can find something that will entertain us. I’ll see you at lunch.” I hit send.

I got into the patrol car, slid on my sunglasses, and, as I backed out, I glanced around.

As I took off down the street, I rolled my eyes at the obvious sedan occupied by two Reapers parked across the street from the precinct.

I must have been tired or stupid not to spot them following me earlier. Now, however, as they tailed three cars behind me, I wondered why. I wanted to pull over and confront them, but instead I headed out to the Bobbys’ place. The second I turned into the driveway, the sedan disappeared.

Lost interest or knew where I was going?

I parked behind a massive black truck and climbed out of the car just as Bobby Sr. walked out onto his porch.

“Morning, Bobby,” I said, stepping onto the porch.

“Rayne.” He nodded. “Coffee?” he asked, holding up the mug he had.

“No, I got my own, thanks.” I sat on the chair he motioned for me to take, and he sat across from me.

From there, I could see the side of the Taylor’s massive house, which sat less than two hundred yards away.

“We didn’t like Sharon much. She always complained about us not having our property clean and tidy, but she didn’t deserve what was done to her,” Bobby said, leaning back in his chair.

For a man in his sixties, Bobby Elwood Sr. was in great shape. There were only a dozen or so lines that crossed the man’s face. He was in good enough shape that he could probably outrun a boar.

The Bobbys were known for causing trouble in town but their home life was quiet. They’d never had a call out to their property for fights or complaints. Bar fights were their usual thing and normally involved a Reaper or two. Hell, most good people in town mixed with a Reaper on a regular basis.

“Want to tell me what you heard that caused you to call us?” I asked.

“Not me, my boy,” Bobby said. “Junior,” he called through the screen door. “Rayne’s here to talk.”

Bobby Jr. was the spitting image of his dad. Same build, same shaggy mud-colored hair and eyes. Junior had been a few years before me in school. I’d heard he’d been the star of the football and basketball teams in high school. He was good-looking enough that everyone wondered why he was still single.

“Hey, Rayne.” Bobby sat across from me while he sipped his mug. “Coffee?”

“No, thanks,” I answered. “What did you hear?” I asked.

Bobby sighed. “Screaming. Like a banshee in the middle of the night. I’d stepped out to take a smoke. Paw doesn’t like me to in the house. My maw never allowed it when she was alive.” Jr. smiled. “I thought of heading over to the big house myself, you know, to check and see if all was all right, but then it stopped.” He shrugged. “Figured it was a bobcat, you know. They scream just as loud when they’ve been cornered by a bear or boar.”