CHAPTER 11

~Your POV~

You awoke with a smile on your face, thinking back to last night’s events. After you professed your love to Mort, you both shared a beautiful and passionate night together. You turned over to face your lover. A calm and content grin was painted on his face.

You gently traced your finger along his chin. His skin was amazingly soft and your lovemaking was blissful. As you both climaxed, you could only describe the moment as complete ecstasy.

You were engrossed with your thoughts that you didn’t feel an arm snaked its way around your waist. You were pulled much closer to Mort. Your lips were barely just above his as Mort captured them in a sweet, delicious kiss. After releasing you, Mort lazily grinned upon your flushing face.

“Good morning,” Mort said.

“Good morning to you too,” you smiled.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. “I never felt like this before. (You), I love you so much.”

“Oh God, Mort,” you said. “I love you with all my heart. You have been my inspiration in more ways than one.”

“I have?”

You nodded. “Remember A Eternal Love? You have helped me to finish it. Despite what’s happened, I know things will turn for the better.”

Beaming, he bent over and kissed your cheek. “I think you’re right about that. You know, you did help inspire me too.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows raised in surprised. “How? Can I see?”

“I don’t know if you want to hear it,” he began.

“I do Mort! Please tell me!”

“It’s a poem actually. I haven’t written one in years and so it might be a little dumb.” Mort got up from the bed and ran over to his desk. You took advantage of the moment by appreciating his lovely backside. Everything about him was breathtaking and he was all yours.

After returning to the bed, Mort adjusted his glasses and held up a sheet of paper in front of his face. “It’s called A Love Forever,” he began.

“The love we share
Can’t break any bonds.
We share a trust that’s
Strong and deep.

We both have an
Understanding about
Each other that
No one knows.

Every moment spent
Together, is priceless
And we sought each
Other for comfort.

Every minute of every
Day, is spent in each
Other’s arms as we
Watch the world go by.

Our cherish love
Will continue on
And shall never die.”

When he finished, tears welled up in your eyes. It was so beautiful and you couldn’t remember anything so sweet done before.

“I take it that you like it then,” Mort joked.

You smack him on the shoulder. “I love it Mort.”

He blushed. “I never thought it would come true.”

“It did and I’m glad it happened,” you said.

Just then the door slowly creep opened and Bandit joyfully walked in. You and Mort’s head twisted around just in time as Bandit jumped on the bed.

“Ah!” you cried as the 75 lb. animal landed on top of you.

You looked up to see the dog’s face staring at you with his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth in a little grin.

“Mort, help please!”

He laughed. “Get her boy!”

Just then that tongue slobbered all over your face. You couldn’t push him off you as you were pinned against the bed. You moved your head to get away, which only increased the dog’s playfulness as he tickled your skin.

“Mort!” you got out before the dog got you below the mouth. Mort continued laughing at your predicament.

After the little torture, Bandit turned around and lay on your legs. You were trapped.

“Mort, quit laughing and help!”

“You look cute that way. And besides, Bandit loves you, see?”

You looked at the dog and then back to Mort. “This is love? I’m losing all feeling in my legs and feet.”

“Good boy,” Mort cooed as he patted Bandit’s head.

“I’m going to kill you Mort Rainey,” you told him.

He shrugged. “It’ll be hard since you won’t be able to chase me.”

“Just watch.”

Bandit’s head jerked up and jumped off of you.

Wickedly, you faced Mort with a murderous look. “Be prepare Rainey.”

“You can’t get me!” Mort scrambled out the room. Quickly, you grabbed the blanket to cover yourself and you went after him.

Luckily for you, you were the best runner in your track team in high school. You caught up in no time as you tackled him to the floor of his kitchen.

“No fair!” Mort pouted.

“If there’s one thing you should know about me, Mort, it’s that I never lose a race,” you grinned cheekily.

“Then I should watch my back then.” It came out so husky and suggestive that you decided to have a little fun.

“You know, upstairs when your pet was slobbering all over me, you didn’t notice where he got me did you?”

“No why?”

“I’ll give you a hint.” You crushed your lips against his. Your tongue teasingly traced his lips as he opened his mouth to you. Taking what you could get, you drove into him as his tongue and yours battled for dominance.

Then, he pushed you off him. “God, I know now!” he groaned. He ran over to the sink and stuck his head under the faucet.

You chuckled. “Serves you right.”

* * * *

After giving Mort one last kiss, you left to go to your place. A smile plastered across your face and there was no way the day was going to be bad.

Fat chance.

Your door was slightly ajar. Hesitating, you push the door opened and carefully step inside. Sitting in your kitchen, overlooking the front entrance, sat your ex-husband Chris. He was all a wreck.

His hair was all messed up and dark rings were forming underneath his eyes. He looked up to you and attempted a smile. “Hello (you).”

“Chris! What are you doing here?” you asked.

He motioned for you to come over and you did. Taking a seat across from him, you gave him a weary eye.

“Sandra’s missing,” he choked.

“What? When?”

He shrugged. “It had to be some time last night. I got home pretty late and the back door was wide opened. She wasn’t there, (you).”

“Did you call the police?”

He shook his head. “With Jessica gone, I didn’t want to get the Sheriff in another missing case.”

“Another missing case? Chris, are you on crack or something?!” you squeaked. “Sandra is your fiancée! Did you go brain dead or something?”

“Why should you care?” he grumbled.

“Because,” you began and then paused. Why did you care? Sandra was the one who stole your husband. “Because, Chris, I do care.”

He snorted. “You care about her? The last time I check, you were ready to kill her.”

“So? She’s missing Chris and that’s no laughing matter,” you argued. “I’m going to call the Sheriff.”

You reached over to pick up the phone when Chris set the phone back into its cradle. “You are not going to call him, savvy?” he said firmly. (A/N: No! He used Jack’s word! Ahh! Writer and reviewers attack Chris)

“Chris, wha-“you said.

“Don’t call him please (you). She’s gone. We can be together again,” he said much more softly.

“Together?” you repeated. “Chris, no, there’s Mort-“

“Forget him (you). You know you still love me and I still love you. Can’t you see that this happened for a reason? Mort was a distraction from your real feelings,” Chris smiled as he cupped your face. “We can be a couple once more.”

“No. I love Mo-“

“No, you love me not that lousy writer.” He lowered his face and captured your lips in a desperate, needy kiss.

You tried pushing him away, but his grip on you was like steel. So you did what you could thing of and you bit down hard.

“Ow!” Chris yelled as he back off. Putting a finger to his lips, a trickle of blood starting falling from the corner of his mouth.

“Get out now! Get out or I’ll call the police!” you screeched.

Giving you one last look, Chris left muttering to himself. You collapsed to the floor, shaking over what just happened. Sandra’s gone and the only thing he can think of is wanting to get back together? You thought. “What a son-of-a-bitch,” you said.

Mort was standing outside your window when he witnessed the kiss. Crazy thoughts raced through his mind as he gripped the sides of his pants. Fury bubbled within and the last thing he remembered was darkness overtaking him. There was one thing to do.

* * * *

You were lying on your couch waiting for sleep to take you. For the rest of the day, you pondered over if you should call Mort to tell him what happened or not. Whenever you looked out the window, it appeared like there was no one home. After a while you decided not to, since Mort already had plenty of things to worry about.

But no matter what, images of Chris kept showing up. Then you thought about Jessica and Sandra. Where were they? Were they safe? Or were they dead? The last thought gave you chills and you tried not to let that be the conclusion. There hasn’t been a murder at Green Lake Shores for nearly a decade. You hoped that this wouldn’t end it.

A sharp knock at your door brought you back. Getting up, you look over at the clock in the kitchen. “Christ, it’s 10:30. Who could that be?”

When you opened the door, a package was left on your porch. You looked around but whoever delivered it must have left in a heartbeat. “I didn’t know they could deliver this late,” you said to yourself.

Picking it up, you were shock to feel how heavy it was. The box itself looks like it was lightweight.

You slammed the door closed with your heel and took it to the kitchen table. After setting it down you picked up a note that was attached to it.

It read: Enjoy

“Enjoy? Enjoy what I wonder?”

Setting the note down, you tried to open the package but it was awfully taped up well. Sighing, you went to your junk drawer for a pair of scissors.

After a couple of times, you managed to cut through the tape to lift the flaps up. A horrid stench filled the room as you dropped it to cover your nose. “What the Hell is that?”

Taking a gulp of fresh air, you opened it again. Right away your hand flew to your mouth to hold in the shriek that was coming through. You back away from the table with wide-eyes as you stumbled over to the end of the room. Looking away from the box you look down at your hand to find it covered in deep, scarlet blood.

Blood all over covered the flaps and inside made your gut twist as you tasted a sourness in your mouth.

The open mouth and shrunken expressions stared up to you accusingly of the once late Jessica and Sandra Green. Two sisters. Missing. Now found.

A screwdriver was wedged on top of Sandra’s always pressed clean blonde hair. The remnants of their bodies were thrown about in a pool of their own blood. A bright diamond was just peeking out by Sandra’s head.

Jessica’s pale features were etched in fear and pain. Her small button pin that she always wore was jabbed into her forehead. The sight was too sickening but the flap that was sticking up facing you read: I love you.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 12

~Mort’s POV~

It was a rough and hot night as Mort tossed and turned. He woke up covered in sweat as his shirt clung to his skin. Combing a hand through his hair, he blinked at the darkness of his room.

Turning over to see the time, he sighed as the clock shone midnight. The past several hours were a blur and everything was all foggy in his head. But the one clear image he saw was you with Chris. Seeing that brought memories of Amy and Ted back.

“No. Not again. Not (you),” he said. He knew you would never cheat on him; even right after you two spent the night together. But the only part that he could see clear was you kissing Chris. He didn’t remember you pushing him away. His brain kept repeating that scene over and over.

After a while, he got up and walked over to the window. You weren’t in bed.

“I wonder where (you) is?”

As if on cue, you came tripping into your room. You frantically closed the door.

Mort peered closely and realized you were crying.

Your eyes were red and your lips were quivering as your entire body trembled all over.

Seeing your current state, Mort then felt something was awfully wrong and the past day’s events disappeared. He flew out of the house to go see you.

~Your POV~

“Dead. They’re dead,” you kept saying. You couldn’t be in that room any longer. That image would stay with you forever.

You sat by your door, getting closer to the depths of hysterics.

“I need to calm down. Try and think this through,” you told yourself.

You tried to think of who could do this. Shooter was the first suspect but didn’t he say he didn’t kidnapped Jessica? So whoever kidnapped and killed Jessica did the same with Sandra. And Mort was with you the whole night. So Shooter was out of the picture.

Then Chris came to mind. Did he do it?

An urgent knock echoed the quiet house and you jumped. Carefully, you left your room and down the stairs. You look over to the foot of stairs and hanging on the wall was your umbrella. Making a swift decision, you picked it up and grasped the handle tightly.

Holding it over your shoulder, like a baseball bat, you moved towards the door. You weren’t sure whom it could be, but you weren’t taking any chances.

The knock grew light but that didn’t settle your nerves. Slowly, you reached out for the doorknob and twisted it open. The door was just a crack and you jumped away quickly and swung it opened with the umbrella ready to strike.

“(You)!” Mort cried.

“Mort? Oh thank God!” you dropped the umbrella and ran into his arms, quivering and sobbing.

“Shh. Take it easy, it’s okay,” Mort soothed.

“No!” you whispered.

Mort gently moved inside and closed the door. You were still trembling and it hit Mort that something horrible happened to you.

“What happened?”

“Gone. They’re gone,” you said.

“What? Who’s gone?” Mort asked.

You grabbed his hand and were about to show him, when you stopped.

“(You), are you okay? Is everything okay?” Mort was growing alarmed. You never acted like this before. It was scaring him a little.

“I found them, Mort. Some sick freak killed them and sent them to me!” you whispered.

“Who is dead, (you)?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it. What if Shooter really did it? Was Mort in on it? But he doesn’t remember anything when Shooter appears, or does he?

These questions swam in your mind, but a clear voice was telling you it couldn’t be. Mort loved you

(I LOVE YOU)

and he’s incapable of hurting anyone

(MURDEROUS TONE IN HIS EYES)

and there was no way he could be involved.

(BUT HE KILLED HIS EX-WIFE)

But what about Chris? He still loved you. And since you rejected him, this could be his way of getting back at you.

(I LOVE YOU)

If so, why would he kill Jessica? She had nothing to do with it.

“(You)? Please, tell me what’s wrong!” Mort pleaded.

You stared, dumbfounded, at his face and nothing seem to register. The blood, the heads, and that message scared the shit out of you and that’s all you kept seeing.

“(You)? (You)!”

* * * *

“Is she all right?”

“I’m sure she will be. Good thing you called after she fainted.”

You heard two voices speaking, but you couldn’t quite clearly see whom they belonged to.

“But she will be all right?” the voice that sounded worried and frightened, had to be Mort.

“I know how she is. Something like this would stay with her for a while but soon she’ll be back, just wait and see.”

You moaned which got the two attentions. “(You)? Can you hear me?” Mort called.

You opened your eyes and took in your surroundings. You were in Mort’s room and standing by your side was Mort and the Sheriff.

“Good to see you back (you)!” the Sheriff said. “You gave Mr. Rainey quite a scare you know?”

“My God! The package!” you cried.

“Don’t worry about that ma’am. Your kitchen is all cleaned up and the box was taken away. I was telling Mr. Rainey a while ago, that it was a good thing he went over to your place. Otherwise, the town might spout off some rumors.”

“My head!” you groaned. You lifted your hand and scratched your head. It was pounding and you wanted the pain to go away.

“Well, I see that she’ll be in good hands, Mr. Rainey. If anything else happens, feel free to call me whenever.”

“I will. Thanks,” Mort said.

The Sheriff nodded and left you two alone.

“What happened?” you asked.

“Well, you fainted in my arms. I didn’t know what to do! Your face was so white and you were so frightened that I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I mean, I write horror stories and I mean to scare people not calm them down. (You chuckle at his statement) So I went into your kitchen to get some water and I saw it.”

You looked down at the bed. “You saw them,” you choked.

Mort lifted your face with his finger. “Yes. I figured out now what bothered you so I took you here right away and called the Sheriff. Oh God, (you) I’m so sorry of what happened.”

“That makes both. Then I assume you saw the message too.”

He nodded. “No wonder. That would freak me out too!”

“I can’t believe it Mort. Jessica and Sandra are gone. Who would do that? Why?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure. But if there’s anything I could do to help, you know I will.”

“Thank you,” you said. “It’s just that this is happening so fast! But I feel bad because I think I could have prevented Sandra’s death.”

“Really? How?”

“Well, Chris was at my house and please Mort don’t get upset, but he told me that Sandra was missing and he kissed me. He wanted me back and he didn’t care that a human being was missing! I told him to leave and I wonder if this was his way of getting back at me.”

“Back at you?”

You nodded. “I bit him when he kissed me. Mort, you are the only person I care about. Chris is in the past and I have no feelings for him whatsoever. I’m actually kind of glad he cheated on me or otherwise I never would have my chance with you.”

This perked Mort up. “I think even if you guys were together, he wouldn’t be the one cheating.”

You playfully smack his arm. “Are you suggesting that I would do such a thing? I’m sorry Mr. Rainey but I believe in the sanctity of marriage and I would never ever cheat on anyone.”

“Maybe. But once you meet Mort you never go back.”

“Ha ha. But listen, I think that these murders aren’t going to be the last ones. Call it women’s intuition or ESP but I definitely think this is not over. Mort I’m terrified. This person knows who I am and where I live. I’m afraid that he would come after me next.”

“No. I won’t allow it (you). You are safe with me. And if it’s Chris then he has to get through me to get to you.”

“Yeah but what if it was-“

“Shooter? Forget him. He won’t hurt you and that is something I know he won’t do,” Mort said confidently.

You smiled and hugged Mort. But deep down, you truly wanted to believe him but you weren’t sure. Could you trust Shooter? And would Chris go after you?

Outside, walking down the street Chris stopped to look at your house. It was dark inside so he guessed you weren’t home. He then looks at Mort’s house. Jealousy and hatred intermixed within him. He didn’t like Mort. Not one bit.

Who cared if Sandra is dead? He wasn’t going to miss her. He doubted that anyone would. Even you. But, Mort was in the way. Something had to be done. And that was something Chris attended to do.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 13

You woke up the next morning still a little bit jumpy. Mort was so understanding of the situation that he didn't try to pull anything funny on you. Thank God, right?

Mort was still asleep so you were careful not to wake him up as you got up from the bed. You tiptoed your way out to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Once you reached the landing, you noticed something sticking out from under the hall closet. Curious, you bent down to pick it up but the object stayed put.

For your next move, you grasped the door's handle and opened it.

"My God," you breathed. The object was a black farmer's hat. "The one Shooter wore."

You picked it up to examine it. In someway, Mort becoming Shooter was connected to it. But why would Mort leave it in there? It wasn't like it was hidden that well.

Without thinking, you put it on. You closed your eyes and waited. Nothing happened.

Shaking your head, you felt silly for doing that. What were you expecting? It was just a hat, nothing more.

You took it off and placed it where it was. Getting up, you closed the door and let out a nervous chuckle. Even though it was an inanimate object, it still was creepy. Getting back to the task on hand, you continued to the kitchen.

You were in the mood for waffles. (A/N: Mmm! Waffles!)

You were just adding the last touches by pouring chocolate chips all over them, when Mort came waltzing in.

"Morning (you)! What smells so good?"

"Breakfast," you grinned. "I hope you like chocolate chip waffles!"

Mort patted his stomach. "Sounds good to me!"

* * * *

After breakfast, Mort left to do some shopping, which left you alone. Well, not alone since Bandit was with you.

You sat at the kitchen table, rapping your nails against the hard surface. Bandit was off to your side, sitting and staring at your motions. You sighed. There wasn't much for you to do. You looked over to Bandit and an idea came to you.

"You know what Bandit? I think I should work on my story. Thank God I also put it on disk," you said aloud. You jumped up but then it hit you that the disk was in your house, in your room.

"Christ," you murmured.

You didn't want to go to your house. Those images were way too fresh and you knew once you entered inside, that's what you were going to remember. Looking back at the dog, you thought why not?

If you brought Bandit with you, then you wouldn't be alone and he'll sense if there was anyone coming. With that comforting thought, you got the dog's leash.

* * * *

The house was silent and empty when you entered. Gulping, you moved further in with Bandit at your side.

"Oh God, (you), get a hold of yourself," you told yourself. "This is your house and no one else is in here. Just get the disk and leave. Okay, I'm fine."

You quickly walked up the stairs taking Bandit with you. You hesitantly opened your door and went in. Your disk was lying on your desk and you quickly went over and grabbed it.

After you closed the door, you were trying to lock it but Bandit kept tugging on you.

"Bandit, wait please! Let me lock the door," you said.

The dog kept pulling your arm, which caused you to drop your key and for the dog to run off.

You quickly picked it up and lock the door and went chasing Bandit.

Luckily, Bandit ran into his backyard.

You stopped between the houses and laid your hand on your chest. You were afraid he would run away, but you pick up pretty fast that's not in his nature.

Shaking your head, you just happened to look down and saw there was something amiss with the grass. Bending down, to inspect it you found a couple strands of hair. Blonde hair.

Sudden impulse made you drop it. But, you felt you owed to the sisters since the person who did it had something for you and you felt you had a part in it. You picked up the strands again and inspected them. (A/N: How detective-like!)

Bandit came trotting over to you, wondering what was taking you so long. He stopped at your face and sniffed the hairs in your hand. Grinning, you patted the top of his furry black and white head. Satisfied, the animal turned his head and went towards the end corner of the house.

You watched him go and you couldn't help but wonder if he had witnessed the murders.

"Stop it, (you)," you told yourself firmly. "Mort didn't do it so Shooter couldn't have done that."

But that didn't explain the hairs in the grass. And didn't the Sheriff say that some neighbors heard Jessica yelling by Mort's house?

"No," you said aloud. "Could just be a coincidence. She could have been walking by and someone grabbed her. That doesn't mean Mort was the one."

All of a sudden, a sharp whine brought you to look over at Bandit. He had his head bent down staring at something and crying. He looks to you and wagged his tail and continued to whine. He must want me to go over there, you thought.

You got up and went to Bandit. You dropped down beside him and glanced over of what was upsetting him. Somewhat hidden in the grass and dirt, a tiny item was poking out. You picked it up and after brushing the dirt away; you recognized it as Jessica's stud earring. You couldn't remember if she was wearing them or not. She probably was.

"Or it could be someone else's," you mused. But who else would wear earrings? Not Mort.

Bandit softly whimpered and you patted him on the back.

"It's okay. No need to be upset," you told him.

Your legs were starting to cramp and you weren't sure when Mort was getting back. For one thing, you didn't want him to see you out here in the dirt. Stuffing the earring in your pocket and the hairs, well, you put them in your pocket too. You didn't want to leave the evidence out.

Picking up Bandit's leash, you took him back into the house.

After letting him run wild, you went searching for Mort's computer. Eventually you found it and got it running.

~45 minutes later~

You were just finishing up when Mort came in. He was all flustered and red in the face.

"My God, Mort what's wrong?" you asked alarmed.

"I think I saw Jessica and Sandra's killer," he gasped.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 14

"What?" you blurted as Mort crashed down on the loveseat across from the computer.

Mort nodded. "I think I saw him, (you). I was over at Sam's Grocery and I saw Chris-"

"Chris? Mort, are you implying Chris did it?" you interrupted. "I know him and he couldn't kill anyone. He is too squeamish at the sight of blood."

"Just hear me out and you can judge later," Mort said. "He was over at Hardware's and he was asking Joe for a new screwdriver. A new screwdriver," he added with emphasis.

You stared at him. "A new screwdriver? C'mon Mort, that doesn't mean he committed the crime," you pushed. You knew suspected him, but you never heard it aloud and not from someone else. Now, you were starting to doubt your suspicions and possibly even Mort. Which one have you known the longest? The answer was obvious.

"He probably needed a new one because his old one is rusted or something. Chris loves to do housework and that wouldn't surprise me if he needed a new screwdriver!"

"That's not the point!" Mort argued. "He could have killed them! Didn't you say he wasn't at all remorse over Sandra's disappearance? Didn't you say he tried to convince you come back and nearly force himself on you? This seems to add up to me and it all points to being guilty."

You sat beside him and took his hand. Looking deeply into his almond orbs, you said slowly, "Mort I understand what you're doing and what you're saying. This is way too dangerous for you to get involve and I know you worry about me, but please try to understand. I think you're only accusing Chris because of what he's done to you and me. You don't know him like I do, Mort. I know for a fact that murder is not in Chris's nature."

"So, what you're trying to say is that ex-hubby didn't do it, but new boyfriend did. Right?" Mort replied, hurt evident in his voice.

"No! That's not-"

He removed your hand and got up. "Yes, that's exactly what you meant. Poor Chris couldn't have, but I could!"

"Not you Mort," your voice getting louder.

"No but Shooter could. If you forgotten, Shooter and I are the same goddamn person! I can't control his actions so I get most of the blame. I'm sorry that you feel that way, but that's reality! You knew what you were in for after I told you about him. You had a choice for Christ's sake and now you're considering that I would have killed them?!"

Distress in Mort's beautiful brown eyes added to the emotions that were arising. You sat there, speechless, not knowing how to fix it. If only you didn't open that damn mouth. If only Mort didn't leave. If only you haven't found those clues. They were the ones that made you think Mort could have and you were letting your old feelings for Chris merged to the surface and pushing your new ones deep to the bottom depths of Davy Jones locker.

Mort stood there for a few more moments, waiting for you to say anything. When all you did was sit and stare, he sighed angrily and stormed off. He ran to the bathroom, locked the door, and took out a box of poison sticks he had hidden. Lighting one up, he sat on the toilet just puffing and thinking.

He knew better than to go right out and accuse Chris of the murders. But never in his wildest dreams that you take Chris's side and his. But why though?

Could it be possible that you might have feelings for your ex-husband? Or could it be that you knew the truth, but weren't willing to accept it?

That's how he felt when he caught Amy cheating on him. He wasn't willing to see the truth that his marriage was over. Taking another drag, this seemed valid. You could right now be having conflicted emotions, torn between two loves. One former and one freshly new and passionate. But which one would you believe?

(Her last love)

No. It couldn't be. But would you?

(You know the truth. Face it)

Could

(You're)

it be true?

(Not Chris)

An agonizing moan came to Mort's lips. He didn't even realize it was him. He put out his cigarette and took another. He never smoked more than one, but right now he really needed one. Lighting the second one, he let himself be succumb to another place. It was soothing Mort a little, but he wanted you to comfort him despite the heated argument that just occurred.

A low chuckle echoed through the small bathroom. Startled, Mort jumped up and spilled his box of Pall Mall.

"Shit," he swore. He bent down and started to pick them up.

"Looks like you got yourself in a jam, Pilgrim."

Mort turned to face his worst nightmare.

"What do you want Shooter? You've already ruined my life once, so back off!" Mort yelled.

Shooter shook his head. "Whoa slow down Pilgrim! No need to get yourself in a tizzy Mr. Rainey. I know what's going on and I can't believe you're letting her ex-hubby win."

"What do you mean?" Mort said between his teeth.

Shooter smiled. "You're letting your emotions show. Big boys don't cry," he taunted.

"Shut up. Shut up you goddamn monster!" Mort ranted. "Get out! Get out! Get out!"

"You can't deny what's in front of your eyes! Mort, she rather be with Chris because he's more of a man than you. Besides, I don't think a fine woman like that would want a killer as a lover," Shooter smirked.

"Killer? You mean you-?"

"Maybe I did Mr. Rainey. I'm not telling you much. Why, Mr. Rainey, you're turning red! Are you having some recollection or something?"

"You!" Mort was fuming. "You! Who do you think you are? You're ruining my life! What did I ever do to you? What do you want from me?"

"Simple. I'm glad you're starting to get your senses straight mister. There's a tiny favor I want from you. Then, I'll leave you and (you) alone."

"Fine!" Mort sighed. "Anything. Then will you leave us for good?"

"I promise. Now, I would like you to . . ."

~Your POV~

You were still in the study when you heard a shrill scream.

"Mort!" you breathed.

You scrambled out and flew up the stairs and to the bathroom door. Gripping the handle, you pulled. Nothing.

"Damn," you muttered. You tried jingling it and the door wouldn't budge. He must have locked it, you thought.

"Why Mort! There's no need for that," you heard behind the door.

You recognized that cold voice. "Shooter!" you cried. In fear, you grasped the doorknob once more with both hands and shoved against it with all your strength you could muster. You had no clue what was going on, but with Shooter it was nothing good.

"Let him be!" you screamed at the closed door. "Mort! Mort!"

"(You)!" you heard Mort yell. "It's all right. You can go."

"No I won't!" No way were you giving up on him.

"(You), it's okay!" Mort told you.

You stopped and leaned your forehead against the door.

"What do you mean? I heard screaming and Shooter's voice. Mort come out please!"

There was some movement and then the door opened and Mort came out with a huge smile on his handsome face.

"Christ, what the Hell was going on?" you screamed.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Nothing? You call screaming nothing? I heard Shooter in there!"

"I was joking! I was peeved and I thought I would lighten the mood by pretending Shooter was in there with me," Mort explained.

You gave him an odd look. "I don't believe you. Mort, I know he was in there. Don't lie to me. I can tell there's something wrong. Look in the mirror, Mort, and look at your eyes. Fear is written in them, Mort. Now, please, tell me what happened. What did Shooter say?"

Mort stood in awe but he knew he couldn't mask his true feelings now in front of you. How could one explain this? How does one begin to say that you have to kill . . .?

"Mort?" you interrupted. "Look, I'm sorry I got all defensive and everything is just that I don't know what to think anymore. I know I sounded like I was taking Chris's side before, but I want you to know that I'm always on your side. I love you Mort and this whole thing was blown out of proportion! It's not easy to hear from someone else that your spouse-"

"Did it," Mort finished with downcast eyes. "(You), I'm afraid more now than ever. I know why you said those things and I don't blame you. I want Shooter gone! I want him to disappear and never return. But something so simple isn't easy to achieve."

"Mort, please," you pleaded. "Tell me what did he say to you that made you so upset?"

He looked into your eyes. He couldn't bring himself to say the truth. Realization dawned on you as your face crumpled into sympathy and sadness. Shooter was taking over both your lives and there appeared to be no hope of ever escaping.

"(You)," Mort started.

You collapsed into his embrace and held onto your love. "I'm so sorry to have brought you into this mess," Mort whispered into your hair.

"No. It was me," you said quietly. "Poor Chris."

Mort nodded in agreement.

* * * *

Chris was out cutting his grass. He stopped and swiped the sweat off his forehead. It was a hot day and with the sun peaking out the clouds it wasn't helping much.

He paused and waved to a few passing neighbors and continued on with his labor. His mind traveled over to what he could do to Mort. The guy appeared to be weak and so Chris knew he could take him on whenever.

Pictures of the fallen writer brought a smile to his face. That would be perfect. After giving Mort Rainey a lesson or two maybe he'll leave town for good. Chris was never the jealous type and the one looking for trouble until he laid eyes on Mort.

It was his fault for making him feel that way now. But in a way, it was his own fault for letting Mort get to him. If only he didn't go off and cheated on you. Why did he do that? His parents were in a happy relationship and the word "infidelity" was never part of his vocabulary or theirs. He never was exposed to the dark depths of any relationship that one might be seduce into. But he was seduced. And her name was Sandra.

He sighed. The details of that one unforgettable day haunts him now and then. The anguish look on your face was enough to send him to his grave. How could he be that stupid and blind to think that she would never be affected? He wanted to save the marriage, he truly did, but he's no superman. Sandra came back and tempted him to go with. So he did. And now he regretted everything even moving here.

Normally, he thought he would feel glad that you found a guy who respected you since he was happy with Sandra. But it didn't. Instead, it gnawed at him and he had Sandra find any bit of information about the writer. The rumors and tales of the Tashmore murders greatly disturbed him and the thought of helping you escape was the only thing in his mind.

Sandra called him "silly" and "naive" and "that you were a big girl to know the truth." He knew you were capable of making good decisions but what if this Rainey had you wrapped around his fingers like Sandra did to him?

That's when he came to a conclusion that he wanted you back and away from the estranged man. He wanted to know that you were safe. He tried numerous times to get you, but you were being stubborn and refused any type of help. He knew you never had a mean bone in your body and leaving someone with no explanation wasn't in your nature.

He thought about just taking you away and letting you off in a different state to go about your life. Of course, he would warn you about Mort and you being conscious would have never looked back at him again. It would hurt Chris that you wouldn't be there with him, but as long you were safe that was enough.

Images of the actions in your kitchen shown up. Kissing you wasn't the smartest idea ever. He suspected you had feelings for Mort, but he didn't know that you loved him.

He finished mowing the lawn and went to put back the lawnmower. Stuffing it inside, Chris locked up the new shed he finished building a couple of weeks ago. A large crimson stain was on the wall. Chris was thankful it was inside and not outside. "Have to paint it up soon otherwise someone would think I killed someone in here," Chris mused.

Satisfied, he went into the garage and took out the new screwdriver he purchased. Giving it another thorough examination, Chris went into the house to begin his next project.

He sat down at the kitchen table that Sandra was sat in and picked up her great-grandmother's vintage clock. The clock stopped working about a month ago and Sandra was on his case about fixing it and among numerous tasks. He didn't know why he decided to do it today, but something struck a chord in him when you yelled at him about her disappearance.

Chris couldn't point a finger as to why he did such a thing. Who knew? Sighing, he lay back in his seat and thought about Sandra. He did miss her. For the first time, he truly did. This was too much for him to take. Mix emotions tore at him and he wished in the bottom of his soul that he never hurt Sandra.

* * * *

You opened your eyes to glaze upon the sleeping man who held you in his arms. After the spill, you both went into the bedroom and talked amongst each other about Shooter and Chris. Becoming tired, you both drifted off into sweet slumber.

Mort's handsome features etched the innocence of what laid before you. I could get lost in him, you thought dreamily. In truth, you were already. You gently moved back a stray piece of hair away from the sleeping form. Your thoughts went back to the hidden treasures you found in your pocket.

A crazy idea came of taking them to the Sheriff's office and possibly get a DNA check to see if the hairs were in fact Jessica's. It couldn't be Sandra's since the last appearance of Jessica was done around the house as said by the neighbors. This still surprised you since you saw her leave and you never heard any screams. But, then again, it was early and you were still in sleep mode. Your mother always told you that you slept like a rock and you couldn't hear a thing. "A bomb could explode right in your ear and you wouldn't hear it," she once told you. And that fact still holds truth to this day.

You didn't want to tell Mort what you found in fear that Shooter would also find out. You had to know the truth right now.

Carefully, you removed the arms that held you so protectively as you ease yourself out of bed. You took a pen and paper from Mort's personal stationery out of the drawer in his nightstand. You scribbled out a quick note that you were going for a walk and would be back soon. Pausing, you finished it off by saying don't worry and love (you). To emphasize it, you drew a bunch of little hearts around love and your name. A girlish giggle erupted and you quickly covered your mouth so it won't wake up Mort. Giving him one last glance, you headed out.

When you walked outside, the burning heat greeted you. You weren't sure where you were going to so you left that up to your legs.

Soon you headed off towards town. By the time you stopped, you were standing in front of the Sheriff's office. Instinctively, you reached into your pocket and withdrew the contents. Looking hard at them, you came to the final notion that this would not only lead to the beginning of the truth but the possibility of sending Mort to jail for life. Would you be willing to do that? You always done what was right as a practical person, but did you have it in you to turn over the man you love?

Before you could realize it, you were leaving town. You couldn't do that to Mort even if Shooter was a dangerous criminal and he happen to be the one person you most admired. Shooter.

You recalled how Mort said that Shooter wanted you. Could the murders and the bloody 'I Love You' be Shooter's perverted way of expressing how he feels? You knew that Chris and Mort loved you and since both were incapable of such crimes, Shooter might be the one to pull it off.

You kept moving until you were a few miles away and headed straight into Shilling's Forest. It had been awhile since you walked in there and seeing it once again brought a smile to your lips. Odd since the latest turns of events.

During the Spring and Summer seasons, the woods are beautiful and most inviting to any persons driving along the highway. Ironically, the autumn and winter seasons causes the forest to be frightening and haunting. This of course, sparked many legends, myths, and tales spoken to the children in Green Waters Shore. The stories, you found, to be quite entertaining and one day you were going to interview the elders and published all the tales of Shilling's Forest.

As you traveled, you came upon the nature trail that was made for the tourists and any of the locals who wanted to take time and enjoy the scenery. You took it and the one story of how the forest got its name came to mind. It was a chilling but sad tale of Old Gregory Shilling living in his old worn down wooden house mourning of the loss of his beloved Annabel. Annabel was a beauty that so many envied and Gregory was the lucky man to be wedded to her. After their marriage, Annabel caught a terrible illness and died as soon as they returned from their honeymoon.

Gregory was horribly upset and took the body with him deep in the forest in the wooden house he specially built for her. There for three months, he attempted to nurse her back to health. Despite she was dead, Shilling refused to believe she was gone until there was no hope of ever seeing her angelic smile again. He buried Annabel out in back of the house and lived alone for the rest of his life.

It was only a tale that supposedly occurred many years ago but everyone forgotten the true story to the name so the townspeople made up one that would attract outside visitors. And it did.

You came up to a fork in the path. The one on the right was closed due to a terrible accident and only the left was opened. You noticed a disturbance to some of the fallen leaves on the right path. Since it was closed for years, a buildup of leaves of course would settle down. You looked closer and the way the leaves were lined up appeared as if a heavy object of something was dragged.

After a moment, you headed down the right path and further you found more leaves out of alignment and tint of red on some of the brown leaves.

"Blood," you gasped. "This has to be the place the killings happened."

Becoming excited, you ran and followed the trail until you stopped in front of a large, twisted oak tree. Your heart race quickened and your breath came in short quick breaths as you saw the blood trail go up the tree. Stepping closer, you found some strands of hair stuck in the bark.

You reached out and pulled what you could out. Dry blood was on the strands and the sight was quite grotesque. You took out the strands you found and compared them to the new ones. The shade was an exact match.

"Oh Jessica."

* * * *

Knock, knock.

Jessica turned and was about to leave when a dark shadow overcame her. She slowly twisted her head around and let out a startled shriek.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 15

Mort woke up in a cold sweat. He ran a hand through his hair and he quickly looked around the room. The dream seemed so real. So real in fact, that Mort could actually feel and hear Jessica. He saw her standing on his porch knocking on his door. He could see the horrified look as he reached over and covered her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. He could feel blood running down his hand as she bit his finger. He could see her trying to escape and he tried telling her to go but no words would form on his lips. It was like his body was someone else and he was the mind and eyes, but had no control.

Too real.

He turned his head to tell you about it when there was no body next to him. He saw a note on the nightstand so Mort scooted over to read it. He set the note down and sighed. You shouldn’t be out. Not when you both didn’t know anything of what’s happening.

That dream.

Was it a dream? Mort didn’t know. He had dreams before that did feel real but were indeed just a figment of his imagination brought by stress (A/N: That is so true. I get them all the time when I become way too stressed). But the feeling he had. He could still right now recall what happened exactly and it started to terrify him. It had to be Shooter. Why else would Mort have these dreams, meaning, and memories?

You.

He sprung out of bed. He now knew that Shooter, not Chris, did it. He killed Jessica. But who killed Sandra? Mort didn’t want to sleep again if a dream came about Sandra. But why would Shooter kill Jessica? She had no involvement whatsoever.

(You don’t know what she did to her)

Wait. Shooter mentioned something about how Jessica done something to you. But what? Could it be something that Shooter decided it needed to be avenged?

(I Love You)

That gruesome declaration lit up in Mort’s head. Was it Shooter’s way of saying how he feels? Could he even fall in love? (A/N: Thanks peroxide! That was an interesting idea to think about. Hmmm. Maybe in this case Shooter can fall in love).

You shouldn’t be out alone. He needed to go look for you.

“Wait Mort,” he said aloud. “No. You can’t do that. Did Shooter take (you)? If he did, then he might want me to go look for her. Damn him. It’s not safe for me to go out.”

Mort was stumped of what he should do. If he can’t go then he had to get someone else do it for him. That way you could be safe.

He went over to the phone. Screw Shooter’s favor. He wanted it done out of jealousy. Chris had no part in this and he doesn’t deserve to be killed, even though he is somewhat of a jerk.

The phone rang for a while and then someone picked it up.

“Hello? Hi Sam, this is Mort.”

* * * *

After stuffing the new evidence in your pocket, you went around and studied the tree. You felt like Nancy Drew solving a mystery. And in a way this was.

“I wish there will be some sort of sign as to who did it,” you murmured. “I know who the victim was.”

Night began to settle and a very chilly breeze swept through the forest. Goosebumps covered your arms and legs. It was amazing how the day would be like an oven and at night it cool off so fast.

“I should head back.”

But a part of you didn’t. You were so close you could taste it. And literally you did. The wind grew fast and something blew into your mouth. You took the object out and peered at it curiously. It was some sort of cloth. The material was black and very tiny. Someone had to rip it off of whatever the piece came from. You weren’t sure where the piece could have come from. Then the black hat came to mind.

Shooter! He must have killed Jessica, the bastard, you reasoned.

It made sense. Jessica probably tried escaping and rip a small piece of the hat off before he killed her. You bet he didn’t even know that she left a piece of him behind so someone could find. So when he went to discard the hat, he didn’t think about hiding it well. But when did this happen exactly? What was he out to prove?

You looked up into the tree and found a blindfold of some type stuck in one of the branches. Taking a deep breath, you started climbing up. You were about a few feet up when you almost started to fall off. The tree was old and not quite sturdy. But not willing to give up, you found your ground and grabbed onto the nearest branch.

It was strong enough to support your weight so you were able to pull yourself up on it. Standing in a hunched position you got the fold in your vision. You then slowly crawled over the branch. The fold was above you so you reached out with one arm to get it. Once you felt the cloth in your hand you gently pulled down and it came off nicely.

Turning back around, you crawled your way back to the tree. Holding onto the branch you slowly put out your legs until they were dangling in the air and leapt. You landed face first but that didn’t matter. Ignoring the pain in your head and ankle, you got right back up to look at your prize.

The cloth was a bit wet in the center, but to your relief it wasn’t blood.

“Shooter must have used it as a gag so she couldn’t yell,” you mumbled.

Now things were becoming a bit clear. Shooter gagged Jessica, but how did he bring her here without being notice? There was no tire marks and it would be quite obvious if he were walking with Jessica at his side.

You grew excited at your discoveries. You needed Shooter to confess to all this. But there was no way you were bringing the police into this. No way José.

“(You)?”

Snapping your head around, you almost lost your balance as the movement was too sudden and your head was still banging from the fall.

“Sam?”

“Thank God I found you! Mr. Rainey was upset when he saw that you were missing. Why in the world are you doing out here? This path is dangerous you know that,” Sam scolded.

You smile out of despite. “I know but it’s just I found-“

“You found what?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you said quickly.

Sam strikes you behaving odd. “Are you sure? What’s going on? Mort was going crazy.”

“I left a note,” you replied meekly.

Sam shrugged. “Well then I don’t know why he called me. It doesn’t matter. C’mon he wants you to stay with me.”

“Why?”

Again, Sam shrugged. “The fool wouldn’t say. Just said, ‘Look for (you) for me please. I can’t leave the house and I’m afraid she’s in trouble!’ When I heard him say ‘trouble’ then man I shot out of the house like it was the Fourth of July! I’m glad that I came into Shilling’s Forest. Almost didn’t.”

You laughed nervously. “Well, here I am! So, Mort didn’t say anything else as to what he meant?”

Sam thought for a moment. “Nope. I don’t believe so. Well, c’mon (you) let’s head to the store. There are some things I need to pick up and then we can head over to my place. Maybe at the store you should call Mr. Rainey. He sounded awful worried.”

You nodded as you followed Sam from behind. Was there something Mort knows that he couldn’t find you himself?

~Flashback in Shooter’s POV~

~End Flashback~

Mort, nervously, walked back and forth through his living room. These memories or whatever they were, were now coming too fast for him to handle. It was strange really. It was like he could hear Shooter’s thoughts. Mort was curious as to how Shooter knew something about you and Jessica. How could he?

He sat on his couch and drummed his hands on his knees as he contemplated. This was becoming way too much for him and he felt that Shooter knew this also.

~Flashback~

~End Flashback~

Mort couldn’t stand it anymore. It was Tashmore all over again. The truth was slowly coming out and he all he could do was watch. Mort now came to the conclusion that Shooter did all of it. He kidnapped Jessica, he kidnapped Sandra, and he killed both sisters out of what? Jealousy? Revenge?

“Shooter, why did you do it?” Mort murmured.

CHAPTERS 16-20

Review This Story