Somewhere Over the Freaking Rainbow - By L.L. Muir Page 0,14
not. I just thought maybe Jamison might like to talk to her, but if she's busy—”
The screen squeaked open again and another man stepped out. This one was just as tall, a little leaner, and had dark hair down to his shoulders that waved in all the wrong directions. Jamison's first thought was that someone should knit him a nice white hat. And holy crap, he should wear it all the time.
There was something about his face that made up for the rudeness of the blond. At least he wasn't grinning. And he wasn't fixing anything. The squeak of the tight spring ended abruptly when the door slammed into its casing. They’d been more careful the night before.
“Have you all met?” the sheriff asked.
Jamison shook his head.
“Forgive me. Lucas, this is Jamison Shaw, Kenneth's grandson, as you already know. Jamison, this is Lucas Somerled and that's Jonathan.”
Jonathan nodded. Lucas kept grinning. Jamison wanted to knock that grin into the dirt.
Lucas laughed as if he'd read his thoughts.
“All right, Jamison. We're here. Get on with it.” The sheriff moved a little closer and faced the Somerleds alongside him. Poor guy. He probably thought he was there to ask Skye to the stupid dance.
Jamison was disgusted when his brain started weighing the possible benefits of doing just that, instead of making a fool of himself, like he'd planned.
Please God, he prayed silently, let me be brave this one time, for my friends.
Lucas stopped smiling and Jonathan started. Maybe Lucas didn't like the idea of him asking Skye out and Jonathan did. Who knew what was going on in their minds? He'd never understand these people.
Jamison cleared his throat. Twice.
“Actually, Sherriff, I came to get my friends. Ray Peters and Burke Costley. They were here last night and never left.” He folded his arms and waited. Brave wasn’t so bad. He wished it had been an option in Texas, but it hadn’t.
Lucas was smiling again, but only slightly. “Were they here last night?” His hands never left his hips.
“They were, and apparently they never left. They weren't at school, and the Peters’s house looks abandoned.”
The sheriff grabbed Jamison's shoulder and turned him, looking him in the eye.
“Oh, son. I wish you would have explained what you were up to. I could have told you your friends aren't here. Let's drive over to your place and we'll talk about it, with your mom.”
The bottom fell out of Jamison's stomach and his heart dropped through the gap, to the gravel at his feet. He’d never get the rocks out now; his friends were dead and it was all his fault.
“My mom?” Jamison's mouth moved without his help. “I've got to pick her up at work.”
“That’s all right. You run home and I'll pick her up. She got on at Marsden & Marsden, right? We'll meet you back at the house.” The man headed for his vehicle. “Lucas? Can you see Jamison makes it home, please?”
Jamison headed for his car, trying not to scurry away from the murderers, but then stopped. He wasn't going to scurry anywhere. He stepped up close to the SUV as the sheriff backed up to pull around the car.
“Wait. Sheriff, wait.” The SUV stopped, the window came down. “Don't you want to know what happened here last night?”
The sheriff turned off his engine and looked over Jamison's head, exchanging a look with Lucas. Every horror movie Jamison had ever seen started playing through his mind, or rather, the parts where the main character had chosen the wrong person to trust.
Dear God, please don't let them be in on it together.
The sheriff took off his hat and laid it on the seat next to him, then leaned his arm on the open window. “What's the boy talking about, Lucas?”
Lucas shrugged. “His friends aren't here. That's all I can say.”
Jamison grabbed the sheriff's forearm.
“They...they...they've got a man missing. Ask them.”
Lucas walked closer, the other one, Jonathan, right behind him.
“Yeah, I guess we're short a man, sheriff, but only because Marcus has left us. He's been called away. Other farms aren't doing as well as ours.”
“We had a little going-away party for him last night,” offered Jonathan. “Perhaps the boy thought his friends came here for that. Although I didn't know Marcus knew the other two.”
Jamison heard a voice in his head pleading with him to let it go, but he couldn't. Not this time. He wasn't going to allow his home to become like Texas; he wouldn't hide anymore.