Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Londyn put the stack of books that she'd been using back. The law firm that she worked for didn't have the most up-to-date versions of them, so she mostly used her computer to find case material. After getting all the books put away, she was headed to her cubie hole to gather her things up and head home.

"Miss Rice?" She smiled at Donnie when he approached her. He was, she thought, one of the nicest people working at the firm. He worked in the mailroom and delivered the mail to the offices during the day. "I have some envelopes for you. I did find some about four months ago with your name on them, but I didn't hear back from you. Did you get them?"

"No. I don't know why I'd be receiving mail here. Do you know who you gave them to when you found them?" He told her that it had been Mr. Daily. "He's my direct report. Maybe he forgot."

"No, miss, he didn't. When I was going through the mail again about a week later, there were a couple more. He told me that he'd take care of them, but I've been watching him. The envelopes were put into his trash the next day." She didn't know what to think about that as she'd told Donny she'd never had mail sent here before. "I have them with me now. Not the old ones, but the new ones that came in over the last couple of months. I've been waiting to find you alone."

She didn't bother looking at the cameras that were all over the room. Not one of them worked. She knew that for a fact. As did most of the people working there. They were put in when she'd started here and never set up with the program that would make them run. Donny seemed to know that, too, and didn't try to hide what he was handing her from the white cameras.

"I don't know what these would be. Do you?" Donny told her that they had a law firm that wasn't this one on them, and a lot of them had insurance names on them. "That's really strange. All right. Thank you for giving them to me, Donny. I don't know what it could be about, but I'll look into them on Monday. I just want to go home and take a nap, then sleep for several days."

They both laughed, and he walked her to the bus stop. There were security guards that were supposed to do that for anyone leaving the building late, but she'd never been able to get them to get off their butts and help her out. She did wonder at times if it was because whatever they were watching on the little television that they brought in nightly had anything to do with it.

She was on the bus when she pulled out the first of the eight envelopes with her name on them. Not opening, fearful of what it might be saying, she stuffed them back into her bag and waited to get home. Whatever they were about, it had been this long. A few more minutes wouldn't make that much difference.

She got off the bus right in front of her building. Londyn had lived here since she'd gotten into college and knew the place and the people residing here like she did her own hand. As she was pulling out her keys, waiting just long enough for the man coming out to go in, she made her way up to the fifth floor, taking the steps two at a time. Which she thought was quite a feat, with her wearing high heels.

Changing her clothing to some comfy jammies, she hung up her skirt and blouse on the curtain rod so that it wouldn't get wrinkled. She didn't have much in the way of clothing. Two skirts, five blouses as well as two different sweaters that she wore when she was supposed to be going to court. She snorted when she thought of that.

Londyn hadn't been in the courtroom once, where she was the actual lead attorney. She could have been taking her own cases and making them work for her. But she'd been told, not less than a dozen times since working at Davis and Davis, that it was a man's world out there, and having a little bitty thing like her taking cases wasn't going to cut it. Also, she was told that the men of the firm all had families to support, and she'd just be taking food out of their families' mouths if she were to go to court. Londyn only had four more weeks before she'd be free of the obligation she'd signed when she'd gotten out of college.

Even graduating first in her class didn't give her any goodwill with the firm. She had resigned to the fact that it would be after she got out of this place before she was able to do what she had wanted all her life. Be an attorney.

After making herself a nice cup of tea, she opened up the tin of cookies that she'd baked last weekend. Londyn didn't allow herself too many of the treats. They weren't in her budget, nor could she make any more until her next week off. She was looking forward to the next four months.

There had been a retreat or something like a convention out in California, and the big-named attorneys were all going out there for the entire four months. She didn't know how they ever justified it, leaving the firm in the hands of the few people who weren't invited—her being one of them, but it was their thing, and she was just happy that they'd be all gone when she served her last day there. Having to calm herself down so she didn't dance, Londyn pulled out the envelopes again.

Using a butter knife to open them neatly—she had a pet peeve about people just ripping open an envelope like a savage and put them in order of mail date. The first one she pulled out was a firm by the name of Winston Jacobson Underwriters. Something fell out of the envelope, but she was too busy reading the letter to bother with it right now.

"Ms. Rice, I hope this correspondence finds you well. I wish to extend my deepest condolences about the loss of your loved one, your grandmother. The insurance check is in this envelope, and that would conclude our business with the estate. Please let us know if there is anything we can do for you in the future."

Bending over, she picked up the check and stared at it for several minutes before she realized that it really was for just under a million dollars. Lying it back on the table, picking up the next envelope, she was astonished to find that it was nearly for the same amount, but the letter was saying that she'd lost her father.

Londyn didn't have any family left. She'd not had anyone since she'd been seven, and her entire family was wiped out in a flash flood that took their home down a long slope. Her grandparents had lived with them, and the ones that hadn't were already gone by the time she came along. Opening the other envelopes, she wasn't surprised that all of them were telling her that they were sorry for some member of her family and that there was a check.

Adding up the amount in her head, she laughed, a nervous one, when she realized that she had just under ten million dollars in check before her. They had her name on them, too, even with the strange spelling of London. Leaving them on the table, she went into her living area and turned on the television. There had to be some kind of weird shit going on because there wasn't any way that she had that much money. Especially since her family had been gone for nearly twelve years. And she'd been in the system in all that time she had been alone.

When she realized she didn't have any idea what was on the television, she turned it off and sat there in the dark. It was nearly three in the morning when she was startled out of her thinking when her cell phone went off. With shaking hands, she answered the call from Mr. Davis, one of the partners in the firm.

"What are you doing taking my mail home with you?" She asked him what he meant. "My mail. Not yours, and it's at your home. I wouldn't have thought you would be a thief, Miss Rice. Please tell me that you didn't open it. It could be bad for you if—"

"You mean the mail that has my name on it? The letters addressed to me that are about family members that I don't have? That mail?" He snarled. It scared her so badly that she had to change her phone to her other hand. She was shaking so hard. "I demand that you tell me why you have checks made out to me that I knew nothing about."

"You bitch. Now you've done it. I should have taken care of that little fucker Donny when he realized that I was having the checks come to me with your name on them. Well, there's no hope for you. I'm going to have to cut my vacation short. Go out there and kill the two of you for putting your nose in my business." She asked him what he'd just said. "Oh, don't get all squishy now. You should have just done what you were told and stayed out of the business of the big boys like me. Damn it all to fuck and back. And to think that I was going to give you a fat bonus come this Christmas. You'd better be there when someone comes for you, Londyn, or so help me, I'm going to enjoy killing you more than I should."

When the phone went dead, she tossed it across the room. How did he know? Kept going through her mind. Not wasting any time with that right now, she grabbed up the checks and envelopes and stuffed them into her bag. Going to her room, she pulled panties and bras out of her drawers and nearly screamed when her cat, Maxi, leaped up on the dresser. Talking to the cat somewhat calmed her down. It also made her think beyond Mr. Davies telling her that he was going to kill her like he was quoting the weatherman about tomorrow's forecast.

"He's going to kill me. What will happen to you if he…well, he'll try and get you too. I don't know why, but he's just mean enough to…should I pack any food? No time for that. I have to get out of here." Picking up her cat, the only true friend that she had, ten minutes after the call, she was in the stairwell walking as calmly as she could with her favorite person, her cat.

Making sure that she had remembered to pick up her cash, very little of it compared to what she had in her backpack with her name on them. Londyn also remembered at the last minute to not bring the cell phone with her. As surely as the shows that she got caught up with in the evening, murder shows, there was going to be something in that cell phone that would give her away. She wondered briefly if they had tampered with any of the things that she now had on her.

Londyn was at street level when a long black car slid to a stop in front of the building. There were four men who got out, and then the car drove down the street, turned around, and headed back to the front door. No one tried to stop her, thankfully, and she just continued walking until she was out of sight of the building. Even from where she was hidden in one of the alleyways, she could hear the popping of guns. Or perhaps she thought that's what she was supposed to hear, so it was playing in her head. Her mind wasn't on right now. She was just too nervous to think beyond getting out of here in one piece.

She was just getting to the edge of town, Maxi following her now instead of being carried. He was fine to be hauled around when he wanted it. But not when she was in a hurry, it seemed. Christ, why didn't she just leave him behind?

"Because I love you, you big furball." He kept rubbing his head around her legs, nearly tripping her up when she heard a car coming. Slipping into the woods, thankfully, Maxi decided to come with her. She stood there against the trees as the big black car made its way out of town. While she didn't know where Donny lived, she wished that she had some way to warn him that he could be hurt. She only hoped that he was able to get away as she'd done. So far.

When the car paused, slamming on its brakes really, she stood as still as she could, holding onto the tree with one hand and the cat with the other. She even managed to hold her breath for nearly too long when she let it out as quietly and as silently as she could.

Maxi seemed to sense there was danger, so he curled himself up and around her neck, nearly making it impossible for her to breathe, much less see the car. When he backed up, flashing a huge light over the woods that she was hiding in, Londyn closed her eyes.

Like her not being able to see them was somehow going to translate into them not seeing her. Opening her eyes, she closed them tightly again when the light flashed over her tree. Not moving, so desperately wanting to take off running, Londyn stood her ground and waited. Finally, in what seemed like forever, the car took off again.

She didn't move out of the trees. Thinking that she was at least marginally safe since they'd not found her. Turning her back to the road, she made her way down the hill, careful not to fall and break something until she came to a clearing.

All kinds of things popped into her head then. Did they have drones looking for her? Was there a snipper just lying in wait for her? She was going to have to keep from watching those stupid shows, or she was going to be a basket case all the time. But instead of going through the clearing to God knew what else, Londyn sat down on the very edge of what she thought was summer wheat and leaned against the tree behind her.

"I'm in a pickle, Maxi. I don't know anyone to call that would want to come out in the middle of the night and rescue me. Because I don't know if you're aware of this or not, but we are in a pickle." Opening her pack up, she dug into it to see if there was anything that she could munch on. Finding a beef stick and a bottle of water made her a little leery. "I've never bought a beef stick in my life. But I must have, right? Want some?"

She kept talking to her cat, though she was careful not to talk too loudly. There were cars going back and forth on the road she'd been on, and she didn't want to alert anyone of her hiding place. Thinking how the beef stick smelled, she did think about if it would give away her cover, then hurriedly finished it off, giving a large portion to her companion.

The sun was coming up when she realized how exhausted she was. There were probably only a few miles between her and the town she'd been living and working in, so she was going to have to stay on her toes. Just as she was thinking that she had to pee, Londyn closed her eyes to let her mind settle a bit before she got up and moved on.

~*~

Waylon kept his eyes on the three men that had come into his shop. They didn't strike him as the do-it-yourself kind of people. Nor did he think that they knew the difference between a screwdriver and a wrench. Funnier things had happened, he supposed. When they went up to the counter, he didn't listen in very hard as he knew that his grandda Dixon would be able to take care of them without any trouble. Just as he was going to dust off the next shelf of items, his grandda called him up front. However, it did put him on alert when he only called him Grandson and not Waylon like he normally would have. He made his way up front, picking up items that were in the wrong place as he went.

"This here man wants to know if we've seen a girl around these parts. I told him that there were a lot of them down at the pool in the summer months, but he didn't take kindly to that. Did you mister?" He explained to Waylon what he'd asked Grandda. "See, he's looking for a girl. Didn't that be what I just said to you?"

"You did, Grandda." He had to smile. Grandda could play the old senile man better than anyone he knew. "A girl, huh? No, I mean, I've seen them at the school like my grandda said, but no one in here. Girls and women do come in here to shop. More and more of them are doing projects alone, but nope, none that I don't know."

"She's about twenty, I guess. Blond hair. Purple eyes, too. That alone should tell me if you'd seen her before." Waylon said that he'd not seen anyone that fit that description at all. Then Grandda suggested that he go to the post office. That's where new people tended to hang out. "I'll do that. Thank you."

He reached into his coat pocket. The man was dressed in an expensive three-piece suit, complete with a holster under his arm. He was carrying, too. Handing him a business card that simply had a number on it, no name, Waylon put it on the cash register. It was Grandda who asked what the girl might have done to be hunted down by the likes of him.

"You just mind your own business, mister, and you won't have any trouble with me or my boss." Grandda didn't even look in his direction, but he knew that he was reading the minds of the men. He did as well, but it was harder for him, trying to make sure that no one was hurt. When they were nearly to the door, one of the men already going out, and Grandda spoke up again.

"Hey, did you hear about Donny Lawson? He was killed the night before last. Poor old soul. Wonder why anyone would hurt someone like him." He was talking to him, but he knew that the men were listening too. That was just the way that Grandda had planned it, the old goat. "His momma, she's not going to make it, I was told. She was right there in her bed when someone went right up in her room and shot her. Donny did some suffering, I heard. That's a right shame, too. They're saying that it might have to do with his job. Did you know that he worked for DD law firm?"

"I did know that, yes. Why would you jump to that conclusion? I mean, he's worked there as their mailman for about twenty years, I think." Grandda said it was a right shame. The men left them, closing the door quietly behind them. If not for the little bell that hung over the door, he might not have known they left. He looked at his grandda and asked him what the hell he was doing.

"Getting a reaction. I got me one, too. I was there with the police that night. Each man in here, just now, they've been in Donny's place. That big feller, he's the one that shot his momma too. I can smell it on him." Waylon was always surprised when his grandda told him something that was so profound, like he'd smelled those men at the house. "If I don't miss my bet, they'll be hanging around here for a few days to make sure that she's not around."

Waylon reached out to his family and the rest of the people in town they had a connection with. Telling them about the man and that Donny had been killed, people wouldn't say a word to the men that had just left his shop. As he was getting ready to pull out something for the two of them to have for lunch, Dallas told him that there was a report of a strange cat hanging out at the deli in town.

"Why do you think that's important?" Dallas told him, and he supposed that it made sense to be on the lookout for anything queer and strange. A cat? Maybe not the first thing that he would have thought about, but it was Dallas who had the most experience with animals, him working at the zoo. "Where is the cat? I can see if it leads me to anything. I mean, it happens on those shows that Mom likes to watch."

After finding the cat, he picked him up to pet him. The name on his collar said Maxi, and then there was a phone number. It was Dallas who met him in front of the library where the cat had been hanging around, and after touching the cat's collar—he could sometimes track things that way, he told him that a woman was hiding in his barn at the house. Waylon wasn't happy to know that this dumb girl had somehow gotten him involved with some pretty big guys.

He didn't go home right away but worked until closing. At six, a few hours after Grandda left for the day, Waylon took his time in doing the paperwork that was needed to balance out the day. He had fourteen receipts from Grandda that he'd given stuff away to someone in need. And another twenty that said that things were paid for. If his grandparents worked for him more than a couple of days a month, he'd be broke. As it was, they liked to give things away to those they found needed a little extra help. Last week, his Grandda Simpson had given away a wheel barrel because a woman didn't have a way to carry her flowers out to her little garden. It made him smile when he read over the little notes that they'd write on the receipts.

He'd heard twice from the man who had insulted him. Waylon wasn't one to hold a grudge, but the man had also burnt his bridges with the other construction companies around the area. He'd told one of them that they'd build his house for free if he didn't get his head out of his ass. Why? He had no idea if the man had a reason. As it was, no one would work with him on getting his grand house plans put together.

Once he had stopped by the bank to make the deposit, he carefully looked around town to see if he could see the other men. He didn't have to be told they were in the big black SUV with the darkened windows. He just knew it was them. And when they got out of the oversized car, he watched them as they made their way to the diner where he'd been having his dinner at for the last ten or so years. It was by far his favorite place to eat other than his mom's house.

Going inside, he heard from his Grandda Dixon once. Telling him that he'd left out a case of water for the person living in the bard. He also told him that he could smell her. The woman didn't take that as well as it was meant when you told them you could smell them—her scent was all over the cat. He'd also left some cat food out for the kitten, he told him. Waylon didn't care one bit for cats. He was a dog man if asked.

The diner would be closed tomorrow, so he was ready to order his lunch for tomorrow when Dixie laid a full-sized sub next to his plate. Thanking her, one of the men sat down at the bar then, and the other two sat across from him. When one of them picked up his meal for tomorrow, he slapped it out of their hand.

"I wouldn't touch your food, and I expect the same from you. Leave my meal for tomorrow alone, or I'll have to tear your arm off and beat some manners in you." He picked up his glass of tea and sipped from it before picking up his fork. "It's a good meal. Meatball subs aren't one to last very long, so if you want one, you should order it now."

"You think you're going to eat that all by yourself? Big men like you have trouble getting a girlfriend, from what I've noticed. Also, they say that big men have the tiniest dicks too. Or do you have a little girlfriend on the side that you're going to—"

Waylon didn't weigh the consequences of his actions. Didn't second guess what he was about to do. When the man started talking to him like he had a right to know his business, Waylon punched the man in the throat and didn't move when he struggled to breathe.

No one in the diner reacted either. When Dixie brought him his dinner of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, she simply stepped over the man when he fell out of the booth he was in and asked Waylon if he needed anything else. Just a soda pop, he told her and he'd be just fine.

Waylon was just about finished with his first slice of meatloaf when Dallas walked in. Amy was with him, and she stood there tapping her toe while the other man scrambled to get out of the other side of the booth. He loved the fact that even with a stranger, they knew better than to fuck with her. She sat down across from him and asked him for a bite. Without missing a beat, she had taken a bite of his mashed potatoes and told the other man, the one standing, to get out of the place. He asked her about the girl.

"You are seriously thinking that this is the right time to ask me about someone? Don't you see that we're trying to have a nice meal here?" She glanced at him before looking at the man again. "You're lucky that I don't kick your ass. Because, as of right now, you're getting on my last nerve."

Again, he noticed that no one was saying names. He also thought that if he had been asked, he could have told anyone what all three men were wearing and the smell of their cologne. As the second man was helping the one on the floor up, the big guy at the counter grabbed Dallas by the arm. Standing up, protecting Amy as best he could, Dallas dealt with the man quickly and bloodily. Then he picked him up by his hair and dragged him to the door. Touching strangers wasn't something to do either.

Enjoying their meal when the three men drove off. He expected the police to show up but didn't know if the idiots would call them. When they were out of sight for about an hour, a young woman about six foot tall and with purple eye color came out from behind the counter and sat at the counter. Dixie didn't say a word but put a half-eaten plate of food, the meatloaf special in front of her, and that was all that was said. He figured that he'd just seen the girl that the men were searching for and was glad that she was all in one piece. The cat, it wound around her feet but didn't jump up on the counter. That was one of the reasons that he disliked cats so much. They didn't understand boundaries.

They talked about the things for the upcoming Fourth of July street fair. Dallas asked him if he was going to be running any contests like he had in years past. They acted like, which he was happy for, that men like that came in all the time and had to be dealt with. Waylon was all right with that too.