December 1, Monday
bottlingthe final step in bourbon production where the aged spirit is filtered, proofed, and packaged
THE PAINbrought me around—a throbbing agony pulsing through my skull like a hammer striking an anvil. Then came awareness: rough gravel scraping against my back, cold air biting through my jacket, and the horrifying realization that my mouth was sealed shut.
Teddy Reeves, my creepy neighbor at the Happy Trails Campground, had knocked me out with a club and put duct tape over my mouth.
My eyes flew open to a kaleidoscope of stars and shadows. The wind whipped branches overhead. I tried to scream, but only a muffled sound escaped.
I was moving. No—being dragged. He was kidnapping me, taking me somewhere out of earshot to do God knows what to me. Panic exploded in my chest.
My heels bounced over the uneven ground as his strong hands gripped me under the arms, hauling me backward across the campground. I thrashed, kicking out wildly, but my sneakers found only empty air.
"Stop fighting," Teddy hissed. "Why couldn't you just die from the Doll's Eye?"
So the poisoning wasn't accidental. Had Marilyn known?
I tried to wrench free, but his grip only tightened. I was being pulled farther from the lights of the few occupied campers, deeper into the darkness.
The woods loomed ahead—a wall of black trees marking the boundary of the campground property. Once he got me in there, I'd be completely alone with him.
I bucked harder, throwing my weight sideways. My elbow connected with something soft—his stomach maybe—and he grunted.
"I told you to mind your own business," Teddy growled. "You convinced Marilyn to leave, didn't you? You're going to tell me where she is."
Even as my mind spun, I registered relief that Marilyn had escaped him. My lungs burned as I struggled to breathe through my nose. I kicked backward and my heel connected with his shin. He stumbled and cursed, but maintained his grip. The tree line was maybe twenty feet away now. Fifteen. Ten.
Then suddenly another figure materialized from the shadows and tackled Teddy from the side with enough force to send us both sprawling.
Teddy released me as he went down hard. I rolled away, gasping against the tape, my vision swimming as the two men grappled on the ground.
Through my disorientation, I recognized the second man.Boyd Biggs.
What was Dylan's father doing here… at midnight?
Boyd landed a solid punch to Teddy's jaw that produced a sickening crack. Teddy crumpled, going limp against the ground.
For a moment, Boyd stood over him, breathing heavily, his fists still clenched. Then he turned to me.
"Bernadette." He knelt and helped me remove the tape from my mouth. It was painful but the relief of being able to breathe freely again was overwhelming. I gulped air.
"Are you okay?" Boyd steadied me as I sat up.
"My head," I managed, my voice hoarse and shaking. "He hit me with some kind of club."
Boyd's jaw tightened. He pulled out his phone and punched in a number. "I need police and an ambulance at HappyTrails Campground. A woman's been assaulted. The attacker is unconscious."
I heard someone approaching through the darkness. Lou Oney emerged, wearing a bathrobe and carrying a tire iron, his eyes wide as he looked from me to Teddy's prone form.
"Bernadette, what happened?"
"He attacked me," I said.
"Watch him," Boyd said. "The police are on their way."
Lou nodded, positioning himself over Teddy with the tire iron at the ready.
The police arrived within minutes, then the ambulance. One officer took my statement and Boyd's while the other roused Teddy, then handcuffed him. A paramedic checked me over, then I was loaded inside the ambulance, despite my protests.
