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Abby should have known her afternoon was going to stink given the depressing discussion at lunch. Every single patient she saw had something to say, a piece of advice or out-and-out orders for her. Many of them were suspicious of Smitty for no other reason than he was a newcomer to town. Others thought she’d done something illegal or immoral while overseas at that bloody rock pile they all called Syria and brought whatever trouble she’d gotten into home with her.
It annoyed the crap out of her.
Then her dad, a virtual walking thundercloud, showed up and she gave serious consideration to signing up for a third tour.
She washed her hands, then invited him back to her office. “What’s up, dad?” she asked as she took the seat behind her desk. He ignored the other chair in the room.
“I know what happened yesterday. Someone needs to die,” he growled, all six feet four inches of pissed off rancher.
“Really? Who might that be?”
“The moron who tried to kill my baby. Who is he, honey?” He shook his head. “I don’t care what you did to start all this, just let me finish it.”
“What I did?” she asked, her hands clenching into tight fists. “What I did?” Her voice rose. “I didn’t start anything with anyone.”
He frowned and tilted his head to one side. “But...over there in—”
Her snort interrupted him. “Most of the people I served with over there are dead.”
He rocked back on his heels like she’d decked him.
“What about this Smitty guy?”
“Smitty is the only reason I’m alive. He killed at least a half-dozen insurgents to protect me.”
“So, you really don’t know who took a shot at you?”
“No,” she said enunciating every word carefully. “I don’t.”
He went silent, his mouth tight and unhappy. “Time to come home. We can protect you better there.”
Home. Her parents, her brothers, her room with the curtains and wallpaper she put up with her mom when she was twelve.
Home. Peaceful, happy, safe.
Not if she brought the boogeyman back with her. Not if she dragged whatever shit she was in back with her to that oasis.
“No.”
“This is one time I won’t take no for an answer.”
“I’m a big girl now Dad and I’m over eighteen, you don’t get to tell me what to do any more.”
“You’ll be my daughter until the day I die.”
“I will not destroy the only place I have left to run to when things get really bad.”
He spread his hands and asked with a voice that was as angry as it was incredulous, “This isn’t really bad?”
“Oh, Dad. This...is a cake-walk.”
His shoulders fell and he finally sat down in the chair facing the desk. “What the hell happened to you over there?”
“The truck I was riding in was blown up and I landed in Hell. I spent six hours there. And for those six hours the only thing that kept me alive was one covert ops soldier named Smitty and a shit load of bullets.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this before?”
“Because I didn’t know how to tell you. I still don’t.”
He stared at her for a moment, then said quickly, “I know about the dynamite you throw into the lake every morning.”
“Yeah, I figured that.”
“Your mother and I decided to let you do things at your own speed, but this...” He took a breath. “This is something else. We can’t stand by and let you handle it alone.”
“Dad, if I had any idea of what was going on I would have told the Sheriff. I really, really don’t know.”
“Come home. Please.”
“I won’t bring this to your door.”
“Knock, knock.” Her office door swung inward, framing Smitty in the doorway. “Sorry, but I couldn’t help overhear some of your conversation.”
“It’s okay, Smitty. Come in.”
He came into the room, closing the door behind himself.
“Is there anyone else out there?”
“No, I sent your receptionist home and locked the front door.” He held out his hand to her dad. “Good to meet you, sir. I’m Spencer Smith.”
Her dad got up and shook Smitty’s hand. “Can you tell me what’s going on? My daughter has decided I don’t need to know.”
“Your daughter is trying to protect you. She tends to do it to everyone except herself.”
“Hey!” She smacked Smitty on the shoulder.
The two men ignored her.
“The latest info from the Sheriff is that the round that nearly took her head off is one popular with police and military snipers. I checked in with a couple of friends, but they haven’t heard a thing about anyone going after Abby. Whoever it is, they’ve got nothing to do with her military service. I think it’s someone from here with an axe to grind. Can you think of anyone who might have had sniper training or is an avid hunter?”
“Half the county hunts on a regular basis and we have several veterans who are good with a rifle, though I don’t know of any who were snipers specifically.”
“The Sheriff is trying to find the spot where he took the shot.”
“Don’t know how much good that’s going to do.”
“Agreed. We need to draw the bastard out without making her a target.”
“I’d rather make her disappear.”
Abby crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “I’m not giving up my practice.”
“That’s not what I’m suggesting, sweetheart,” her dad said. “What I mean is disappear for a few days. Force whoever is shooting at you to break cover.”
“Make him come to you,” Smitty added. “It could work. Especially if we lay a trap for him.”
She winced. She was about to say something both men were likely to react badly to but it still had to be said. “It was only one shot. Maybe it was a stray?”
Her dad and Smitty looked at her like she’d lost her mind.
“One shot is one shot too many,” Smitty said.
“A stray?” Her father sounded appalled.
“We have to assume there will be another shot,” Smitty said.
That captured her attention. “Why?”
“Because if we don’t and it happens anyway, the second shot might be successful. I’m not willing to risk your life.” He turned to her father. “Do you have a vacation or hunting cabin somewhere hard to get to?”
“We’ve got a cabin on a great fishing lake a few miles into the bush north of our place. It’s on our land, so no one but family goes there.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“You should take her there today.”
“Today?” she blurted out. “But it’ll be dark in a few hours.”
“You can pack fast. I’ve seen you,” Smitty said without an ounce of sympathy.
“I’m not in the military anymore.”
“I think you just got conscripted,” her father said. He glanced at Smitty. “I’ll go home and prepare some supplies, food, etc. Do you have a weapon?”
“I assume you mean something other than a handgun.”
At her father’s nod, Smitty grinned. “I brought my baby with me.”
Abby crossed her arms over her chest. “I always knew you liked your rifle more than me.”
“Well, she’s only got me to take care of her.”
“She is an inanimate object.”
“Enough banter you two, get busy,” her dad ordered.
Smitty’s grin got wider. “Yes, sir.”
“He didn’t mean that.” Abby rolled her eyes. “You’re such a guy.”
“Thanks for noticing.”
“Get out of my office you two, if I’m going to disappear for a few days, I have some calls to make.” She waggled her fingers at them.
“Walk me to my truck,” her father said to Smitty.
“I need him in one piece, dad.”
“Don’t worry, honey, I won’t hurt him. Much.”
The two men left. She shook her head as she picked up the phone. If she didn’t know better, she’d think her father liked Smitty.
She called the Sheriff and let him know what they planned. His reaction was ridiculously happy and he asked to have Smitty call him before they left. She also got a hold of the other doctor in Bandit Creek, who complained about having to cover for her again, until she pointed out that it was better than having her in the morgue. The last person she called was her receptionist, letting her know that the other doctor was covering for her.
She shut her computer down, locked her door and went searching for Smitty.
He was nosing through some of the medical supplies she kept in the clinic. “You finished?” he asked when he saw her.
“Yeah, let’s go.” She led the way to the backdoor, opened it, and stepped out.
And nearly stepped on JD snoring on the doorstep.
He startled awake and glared at her in a drunken, disoriented way.
“JD, what are you doing here? Again.”
“Sleep’in. Again.”
“I can think of a dozen more comfortable places than this to crash.”
“Yeah, well, none of those places is close enough to guard the door.”
Guard? She glanced at Smitty, who narrowed his eyes and squatted down next to JD.
“Guarding the door from what?”
“The ghost.”
Smitty tilted his head to one side. “This ghost have a name?”
“It’s what they called him back in Nam. Bastard could shoot an apple out of your hand from more than 1000 yards away. He saved my life once, back then, but I don’t think he’d make the effort now.”
Smitty studied Jack’s face with a soldier’s seriousness. “Ghost was a sniper?”
“He was more than that. Used to go on long patrols alone. Live off the land, killing any VC he found.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Compared to him the VC were a bunch of Girl Scouts.”
“You were scared of him?” Abby asked, fascinated and horrified the same time.
“I’m drunk, not stupid. Of course, I was scared of him.”
“And now?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m still not stupid.”
“So, why are you guarding the doc’s door?” Smitty asked.
“It’s not her time to die yet.”
“How do you know that?”
“The other ghosts told me.”
“Other ghosts?” Smitty asked slowly.
“Yeah, all the ghosts in the mine and at the bottom of the lake.”
Abby felt the blood drain from her face. “What?”
“They’re loud too. Always bugging me to make sure you’re okay.” He shook his head. “It’s not your time to die, but the Ghost wants what you found.”
“I don’t understand. What did I find?”
“The door. To the mine. That’s where you got the dynamite you’ve been throwing into the lake. Old dynamite.” JD rolled over, got to his knees, then rose to wobble on his feet. “You’re lucky the ghosts haunting the old mine like it when you throw dynamite into the lake. You remind the living that they exist. That they still have secrets.”
“I didn’t find the door to the mine. That mine has been inaccessible since it collapsed.”
“You sure there, missy?”
“Absolutely. I’ve been lighting the dynamite I found in my grandmother’s garden shed and tossing it into the lake to detonate it safely. She also had some really old Cuban cigars in there.”
“That ain’t the only reason, is it?”
“JD, you talk like a fortune cookie. Could you get to the point?”
He leaned toward her and grinned, showing off his yellow and black teeth. “It feels good to destroy somethin’, don’t it? Maybe a little too good, eh?”
“That’s it,” Smitty said, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to tell this ghost friend of yours that Abby didn’t find the mine entrance, that her dynamite has nothing to do with any mine. Then you’re going to make yourself scarce. Disappear. You’re not going to bother Abby with any more ghost stories. Got that?”
“I got it, boy.” JD winked at Smitty.
Smitty released the drunk with a groan of disgust and pushed him away.
JD stumbled a few steps, then stopped and gave Smitty an evil grin. “Better be careful, boy or you’ll end up a ghost yourself.” JD nodded at Abby. “She’s the only thing keeping you from it.” He laughed and weaved his way down the alley.
Abby glanced at Smitty. “What did he mean by that?”
“I’ve got no fucking clue.”