Free Town Darling by Holly Copella Page A

on a stretcher.  She was completely white and appeared lifeless,
although the actions of the paramedics suggested she was still clinging to
life.  Sheriff Wiley stood alongside Vaughn, who leaned his back against the
bloody island counter and stared blankly at the large amount of blood on the floor. 
His arms, neck, shirt, and pants were also covered in Casey’s blood.  Vaughn
uncertainly looked at the blood on his hands and started to tremble.  Wiley
placed his hand on Vaughn’s shoulder.  Vaughn didn’t even seem to realize he
was standing alongside him.
    “You okay?”
    For a moment, Vaughn
appeared unable to respond.  He finally managed a weak, “Yeah, I’m--I’m fine.”
    Wiley firmly massaged
Vaughn’s shoulder and weakly smiled.  “Let’s have a look at our bad guy.”
    Vaughn uncertainly walked
alongside Sheriff Wiley to the dining room archway.  The intruder was gone
without a trace of blood!  Both appeared alarmed as they stared at the
emptiness of the dining room.
    Vaughn vigorously shook his
head and stared through wide, horror-filled eyes.  “He went down right there!”
    “Are you sure you hit him?”
the sheriff asked and seemed reluctant to look at his deputy.
    Vaughn suddenly spun to
face the sheriff with a frightening look of rage in his eyes.  “Three times in
the chest--dead center!”
    Wiley looked at him from his
sudden outburst then appeared to consider.  “No blood.  Bulletproof vest?”
    Vaughn vigorously shook his
head and remained unpredictably hostile.  “This was no random home invasion,”
he exploded.  “He knew the Remington’s were armed!”
    “He couldn’t have gotten
far.  We’ll find him,” Wiley assured him then turned fatherly and sympathetic. 
“You should go home and rest.”
    “No, damn it, I want that
bastard!”
    †
    I t was a little after four
in the morning.  Casey’s gray horse grazed in a lush field not far from an old,
abandoned barn.  The house had been torn down years earlier.  The barn wasn’t
in great shape and had seen better days.  Blood from the gash saturated the
horse’s hindquarters and ran down its leg.  Storm stomped his hind leg several
times while grazing.  A police blazer pulled up the overgrown dirt lane and
stopped several yards away from the horse.  As Vaughn got out of the blazer,
Storm lifted his head and looked at the deputy.  Vaughn removed a halter and
lead rope from the blazer then approached the horse.  Storm snorted while
watching him.  As he got closer, Storm took off across the field.  Vaughn,
still in his bloodstained uniform, appeared defeated, shook his head, and
returned to his blazer.
    †
    I t was five in the morning
and the approaching sunrise was overshadowed by storm clouds rolling in. 
Thunder cracked and lightning flashed.  The large gray horse galloped across
the field toward the back of the fairgrounds.  The faint whinnying of another
horse was heard calling out.  Storm suddenly slowed while turning toward the
distant woods.  A horse and rider emerged from the woods.  Storm snorted with
his head high in the air and pranced a few steps before galloping toward them. 
The large gray horse slowed before the horse and rider and snickered a long,
loud greeting to the other horse, who returned the snickers.  They touched
noses and snorted their greetings.  Vaughn dismounted the mare from the
Remington farm and approached Storm with the halter and lead rope.  He easily
slipped the halter over the horse’s head as the two horses continued to snicker
and snort to each other.  It started raining as he led both horses across the
fairgrounds toward the distant arena barn.  Moments later, Vaughn approached
the large barn with both horses as the rain poured down upon them.  A pick-up
truck arrived at the barn as he was about to enter.  The local veterinarian,
Dr. Stein, got out of the truck and hurried toward them and the barn with his
medical bag.
    Moments later, Vaughn held
the gray