The Prey Bites Back: A Jesse Watson Mystery Book #8 Read online

  The Prey Bites Back

  A Jesse Watson Mystery

  Book #8

  Ann Mullen

  www.aftonridge.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Any characters portrayed, living or dead, are imaginary. Any resemblance to actual persons is completely coincidental. Any places, business establishments, locales, events, or incidents in this book are the product of the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously.

  Afton Ridge Publishing

  271 Entry Run Road

  Stanardsville, Virginia 22973

  Copyright © 2014 by Ann Mullen

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced

  in any form without permission.

  ISBN 13: 978-0-9828776-9-2

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Also by Ann Mullen:

  Jesse Watson Mystery Series:

  What You See

  South River Incident

  A Crying Shame

  Middle River Murders

  Greene County Killer

  Death on the Bella Constance

  All About the Money

  Short Story Collection:

  Lunch Break Shorts

  Chapter 1

  When most folks tell stories of their RV experiences, there always seems to be something disastrous that happened along the way—a flat tire, engine problems, somebody getting left behind at a rest stop or gas station by mistake—you name it; I’ve heard it all. So, we did our best to prepare ourselves in advance. We discussed all the things that could go wrong and made a pact that whatever happened, we were going to take it in stride and enjoy ourselves. We had money, guns, cell phones and a satellite phone. What else did we need?

  Billy had rented a Winnebago fully equipped with everything we needed, and we were just going to get on the bus and go. No destination. No timeline.

  Hello. My name is Jesse Watson. Years ago, I moved with my parents to Stanardsville, a little town in the beautiful mountains of Virginia, got a job working for a private investigator, and then married him. Billy Blackhawk and I have been together now for almost ten years.

  Dad died shortly after we moved here, and then a while later, my mom Minnie found Eddie. They were married in a triple ceremony at Chief Sam and Sarah’s house along with my sister, Claire, and her guy Randy Morgan, and Billy’s brother, Jonathan, and his fiancée, Lu Ann Knotts. It was a huge celebration done up in grand Cherokee style. But the party was over, the newlyweds were off on their honeymoons, and we were still out of a job.

  Let me explain. Not long after I hooked up with Billy, I got my P.I. license and the two of us set out together to dig into peoples’ lives. It was our job to get the dirt and we did it very well using pretty much any means we found necessary as long as it was legal… mostly.

  Unfortunately, we crossed the line a few times and Greene County Sheriff Wake Hudson finally called us out on it. We reached an agreement with him that would keep me and Billy out of jail for our dirty deeds by promising to take a hiatus from work for six months. But not to worry, we came up with a backup plan. Mom and Eddie were going to take our place when they got back from their honeymoon. They were going to do our snooping for us. We had to keep the business going.

  Billy and I live in Charlottesville, Virginia, on the Blackhawk Compound in the same house he once lived in with his first wife, but that’s okay by me. We have two children, Maisy and Ethan, who are attended to by Billy’s cousin Helene, the best nanny in the world. We also have two dogs and a strange cat, making us the typical family.

  Since we were temporarily unemployed, we decided to take a long vacation and see America. What else was there to do if we couldn’t work?

  I knew we were going to have a great time and hopefully there wouldn’t be too many horror tales to tell, but low and behold, we hit a snafu right from the get-go. We couldn’t get Athena on the bus. She had always hated riding in cars, so why did I think this was going to be any different? After twenty minutes of chasing her around the bus, the yard, and through the house, I was about ready to give up. The kids were getting cranky, Billy was frustrated, and Spice Cat wasn’t happy at all about being in a cat carrier—which was only temporary until everyone was inside and the bus got on the road.

  Although it was the end of October, the weather was still hot and humid at times. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I glared down at Athena and Thor. They had been acting like rats trying to find high ground in a flood. I yelled, “Get on the bus or we’re going to the vet!” I emphasized the word vet.

  Both of them ceased their running around, stopped and looked at each other. I swear, if they could’ve shrieked liked people do, they would have. A minute later, both were on the bus looking for a place to claim as their own.

  It was a minor glitch to start, but now we were on our way, and after an hour on the road, everyone had settled in. It was going to be a good trip.

  Three weeks later, after days of sightseeing and stopping at every tourist trap there was from Charlottesville to Denver, the thrill was gone. I’d had enough. I was ready to go back home and get to work.

  We were sitting in a roadside diner on the outskirts of Denver eating yummy hamburgers when I looked at Billy and said, “I’ve had about as much fun as I can stand. I’m ready to go home. I’ve put on five pounds and there’s no more room on the bus for souvenirs.”

  Billy looked hurt. “Aren’t you having a good time, `ge ya? I thought you loved eating out and stopping at all those quaint little shops.”

  “Of course she’s having a good time,” Helene said as she wiped catsup from the corner of Ethan’s mouth. “She’s just had enough. So have I. It feels weird being on vacation for so long… and you two have been spending money like drunken sailors on shore leave. It’s time to pull the plug on this party.”

  We talked, laughed, and joked as the bus carried us back home. That all stopped when a young punk tried to carjack the Winnebago at a gas station in Topeka, Kansas. He made it a half mile down the road before the cops stopped him. The guy was barely twenty years old and said he only did it on a dare. What an idiot. Who in their right mind would ever think they could make a getaway in a Winnebago?

  Fortunately, our kids weren’t on the bus, but the dogs and cat were. The cops said the guy was trying to fight off the dogs and the hissing cat sitting on the dashboard when they pulled him over. The young man couldn’t get out of the bus fast enough. They arrested him without incident, but after it was over, I told Billy to remind me to never visit Kansas again.

  “You can’t blame the great state of Kansas for what one criminal does. The scenery’s beautiful and the people seem to be so nice.”

  Helene popped up and said, “Except for the kid who tried to steal our bus. He wasn’t such a nice person. What if the children had been on the bus?”

  Billy didn’t have a response, but I knew what he was thinking. He would’ve gone after the guy, even if he had to steal the car on the other side of the gas pump to do it.

  “Kansas was the name of that guy who tried to kill my mother,” I added. “No more Kansas for me, thank you very much.”

  And wou
ldn’t you know it? Just before we reached the Kansas state line, about ready to leave that fine state behind, the skies turned dark and a wall cloud appeared on the horizon. Way off to our left, a funnel cloud was well on its way to touching down. The tornado was behind us, but it could be on us any minute.

  Poor visibility, gusting winds, and heavy rain made it almost impossible for Billy to control the bus. Then the hail started. A minute later, a bicycle came careening through the air like a rocket, slamming into the passenger side and knocking the mirror off in its wake. The mirror disappeared into the black abyss. Much to our relief, the tornado disappeared before it caught up to us, but it had been a mighty close call.

  After the initial shock wears off, being carjacked gives you plenty of fodder for conversations, and almost being sucked up into a tornado really ups the ante for things to talk about.

  “Now we can tell our friends about our busjacking,” Helene said, chuckling. “Who would ever believe…”

  “And what about that tornado?” I added. “That was about the scariest thing I’ve ever been through. The whole time I kept thinking about Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz.”

  “So was I,” Helene agreed, chuckling. “I kept waiting for a house to fall on us.”

  Then, while we were cruising through Kentucky in the middle of the night, Billy hit a deer. I freaked out and Helene had a spaz attack when we saw the poor thing lying in the road, squirming and kicking in agony. So, Billy did the right thing. He shot the deer and dragged the carcass off the road into a field. Try explaining that one to a state trooper when he pulls up and sees a man in his headlights, covered in blood up to his elbows, coming out of a field. That was another exciting experience.

  We had a fun time from Charlottesville to Denver, but once we turned around and headed home, the trip back left a lot to be desired. Busjacking, tornado, hitting a deer—what next? I kept asking myself that question over and over. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bigger and worse was about to happen. The answer came all too soon with a single phone call.

  We had just pulled into the rest area on I-64 for one last stretch when Billy’s cell phone went off. It was a 9-1-1 from Jonathan. Billy said little, and when the conversation was over, he turned to us and simply said, “My mother is in the hospital. We must go.”

  Like zombies, we sat motionless, doing a steady seventy-five in a Winnebago all the way to Charlottesville, not slowing down for anything. Once we reached the Hydraulic Road exit, Billy eased off the gas pedal and kept it that way until we reached Martha Jefferson Hospital. He had said little the whole time, but I could feel his pain, and I could see it in his eyes. His mother was seriously ill and the doctors were doing their best to find out why.

  Billy is a Cherokee Indian. They feel things differently than we do. They cover their pain. We shout it from the rooftops. We cry out loud. They suffer in silence.

  I was numb. I knew there was something wrong with Sarah. Her health had been declining over the past few months, but nobody had talked about it. I just didn’t know it was that bad. I should’ve seen it coming. All the signs were there.

  Our stop at the hospital was brief. Billy had gone in to see his mother, but she was out of it and didn’t even know who he was. She was hallucinating and screaming at anyone who got near her.

  Once we got home, everything seemed so gloomy. The house was dark, the sky was overcast, and a strong wind was blowing in from the northeast. A storm was brewing.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Billy as we stepped out of the Winnebago. “What can I do? I want to help, but I don’t know…”

  “I am fine, `ge ya. We must carry on. When we finish here, I must go be with my father. He will need my comfort.”

  “Sarah’s going to pull through this, Billy. I know she will. She’s strong…”

  “I fear the worst,” he said softly. “She did not look well at all. She is pale. Her words did not make sense. ”

  Contractions. When Billy didn’t use them, he was in Cherokee mode. This was something I had learned early on about him.

  I expected the dogs to knock us down trying to get off the bus, but instead, they quietly followed Helene into the house. Neither one let out a single bark. Neither one tried to run off into the woods. That was a strange, rare occurrence. It was as if they were sad, too. Spice Cat was… well… Spice Cat. His main concern was his next meal and finding a spot to lounge.

  We took the children in the house, got them settled, and then went back to the bus to finish the daunting task of unloading our belongings. When I’d carried in the last bag of gifts and set it on the kitchen table, the bag fell over, spilling out the silk scarf I had chosen for Sarah. I picked it up, looked at Billy, and then started crying.

  Normally, he would be right by my side the minute the tears came, but not this time. This time, he was in his own world. I didn’t say anything when he picked up his cell phone and walked outside. He would talk to me about his mother when he was ready. Helene had disappeared.

  Like a robot, I put the dirty clothes in the laundry room, the clean ones where they belonged, and then restocked the cabinets with the leftover canned goods and food from the bus. I grabbed up the bags of gifts and took them to the hall closet, crying the whole time. Unlike Billy, I had to get it out. I finished my tasks and then went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Coffee always seemed to help, no matter what the problem was.

  My cell phone buzzed and then played a tune I had recently set for my mother—a nifty little number from James Garner’s TV series, Rockford Files. Now that Mom was deep into the snooping business, I found it only fitting.

  “Hello, Mom,” I said in a low, sad tone. “I’ve been crying, so don’t mind me.”

  “I understand,” Mom replied, sympathetically. “We’re all praying for Sarah. Did the doctor say what they’ve found out? The last I heard, Chief Sam said she’d been acting strange and then she just flipped out… went off the reservation.”

  “Billy said she’s in another world, Mom.”

  “Oh, my word. I didn’t know. I saw her early this morning and she seemed okay. I mean, she was a little out of it, but she could carry on a conversation… somewhat.”

  “What do you mean, somewhat?”

  “She acted like…”

  “Like what, Mom?”

  “Well… she said some weird stuff. She talked about her kids as if they were still little. She was angry at Chief Sam because he wouldn’t let the boys play in the snow. Then, she looked at me and asked me if I wanted to go to the mall. I just figured it was the drugs they were giving her.”

  “Maybe she had a stroke.”

  “No, she didn’t. I asked the doctor.”

  “I can’t explain it, Mom. Sarah has always been as sharp as a tack.”

  “I know. That’s what surprises me. She didn’t seem herself, but I figured it would pass when she started getting better.”

  “I can’t get Billy to talk about his mother. At first, when I asked how she was, all he said was that she was not well.”

  “Give him a little time, honey. He’s probably in shock after seeing his mother acting crazy. He’s used to her being the sane one in the family. He always said she was the one who held everything together. Now she’s falling apart and he can’t handle it.”

  “The last few hours have been bad. Billy’s gone silent. You know what that means.”

  “He’s not getting ready to kill someone, is he?”

  I laughed at Mom’s silliness. “Not today, Mom, but the day isn’t over.”

  “Sarah will get better and then he’ll come out of it.”

  “I made a pot of coffee.”

  “We’ll be right over. Is that all right?”

  “Please do. I need someone to talk to. Billy’s outside on his cell phone, the kids are napping, Helene’s wandered off, and even the dogs are nowhere to be seen, not to mention Spice Cat. I have no idea where he is.”

  “Maybe we can talk about the case,” Mom added. �
�Give you a chance to think about something different. I’ve… we’ve come up with some interesting stuff.”

  “I doubt if I’ll be able to concentrate. I can’t get my mind off Sarah.” I took a deep breath. “It’s so sad, Mom.”

  “I know, honey.”

  “Billy didn’t want us to see Sarah until he’d had a chance to figure out what was going on. I figured he needed time with her alone, so I didn’t argue. This is just so weird. Sarah has to get better.”

  “Chief Sam said she’d been acting a little strange, but it got worse right after the big wedding shindig. I hope it wasn’t too much for her. I mean—three couples getting married at the same time at her house was a lot for her to take on. I’d hate to think it was our fault. Maybe it put too much strain on her.”

  “No way, Mom. Sarah loves throwing big parties and she’s good at it. It wasn’t that, I’m positive.”

  “I sure hope not.”

  Mom and Eddie arrived an hour later. By then, the kids were up, Helene was fixing dinner, and Billy was still outside. After a quick shower, I was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. Helene had added a shot of bourbon to my cup.

  “I just talked with Billy,” Mom said, walking over to the table. She gave me a hug and then moved on to the kids, giving each a hug and a kiss. Eddie did the same. “He’s holding up well. I figured he’d be a head case by now. Says he’s going to see the chief in a little bit. I guess he’s psyching himself out, so he can see his father without falling apart.”

  My mother’s a fine, semi-old-fashioned (but getting more in-tune with each passing day, thanks to Billy and me) Southern lady who doesn’t smoke, drink or curse, and she has God on her side. They don’t come much better than that. I would say we were a bad influence on her, but that would be a lie. She likes the work we do and loves getting involved in our cases.

  “Has there been any further word on Sarah’s condition?” Eddie asked. “She seemed fine the last time we saw her, well, more like her old self.”

  “Can I get y’all some coffee?” Helene asked from the kitchen. “I’m making spaghetti for dinner in case anyone’s hungry. Care to stay?”