Savage (A Blood Feud Novel)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Rachel was in the cellar room.

Colleen, her mother, was tied to a chair. She breathed heavily. Sarah Brandon lay in front of Colleen unconscious.

Rachel grinned. She still had the baton on her. She glared at Colleen. How did her mother know that bitch? Rachel turned and came back upstairs.

She was still waiting for James. It had been an hour since he left. Rachel wondered where he was. She went to the kitchen, opened the fridge and grabbed a can of Sprite. She sat in a chair and gently placed the can underneath her right arm.

"So how do you know the cop, mum?" Rachel asked.

Colleen shook her head. "She just came to the house."

"Really," Rachel drawled. "You seemed to be on familiar grounds with her although you tried to hide it. Now tell me before I go and rip her insides apart."

She was surprised to see tears fall from her mother's eyes. Well, it was interesting.

"Are you going to tell me now?" Rachel asked.

"She was investigating you," Colleen said.

That was news for Rachel. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Someone saw you; she described seeing you in the school a few times. Sarah has been trying to see if you're working with that cop who was said to have killed his family."

Rachel laughed. She had not wanted to kill the cop, but now she was going to do so. Her mobile phone buzzed. She thought it was James when she saw the number on the screen. She answered, "Hello. Where the hell are you?"

A cold and unfamiliar voice on the other end responded, "My name is Cleaver. I have your boyfriend, James Taylor. You have until three this morning to save him. If you don't show up by then, he'll die."

Click.

Rachel stood and stared at her cell phone. What the fuck?

"I guess I will have to deal with you and her later mama," Rachel said.

Colleen looked away. She didn't want anything to do with Rachel. She felt contempt for her. She hated who the child she had turned to.

Rachel turned and went back upstairs. She grabbed a gun from a drawer. She inserted it into the holster on her left side, and after, wore her red trench coat.

She was outside the house again. There was still the issue of that cop to deal with. And she would get rid of her after finding others knew about her involvement in the murders.

Rachel noticed that James's Cooper was still there across the street, but there was no sign of him. She dialed his number. The man on the other end said, "My name is Cleaver, and I have him, Rachel. If you want James alive to be sure to arrive at the local cemetery before three."

"I'm going for a drink. Then I'll come over and sever your insides out!" she snapped. She quickly entered her Cooper, reversed, and sped down the road.

By now it was nightfall, and most of the inhabitants of the town were inside. The Cooper pulled into a stop in front of Gilligan's Pub. Inside the place was packed full of regulars.

Rachel managed to grab a stool for herself in spite of the stuffed crowd. A few heads turned and gazed at her. Rachel smiled at-bartender, a pretty girl who asked: "What will it be, miss?"

"Gin and tonic please," Rachel replied.

She decided she wasn't going to worry about James, at the moment. Who knew if he was doing all this to get her attention, she couldn't put it past him.

The bartender returned with Rachel's drink and placed the glass in front of her. "That is three-fifty."

Rachel slid a five dollar note and politely nodded. She glanced around the place. A man approached her. He was younger looking and had cropped hair. He flashed a broad smile as he gently strode between Rachel and another man who was enjoying his beer.

"Sorry to have cut in like in like that," he said as he offered Rachel a hand.

"Well fine sir, who might you, be?" Rachel chirped.

"My name is Pearce," the man said. "You must be a regular here? I recently moved over from Shelburne. I saw you enter the bar as I was coming in so I thought it would be nice to meet with you."

Pearce was strikingly handsome, and Rachel found herself immediately attracted to him. She quickly thought of James. He might have been in some trouble or danger. But then he deserved it; the bastard had cheated on her too many times to count.

However, at some point, she was going to deal with this Cleaver person. He had dared her, and she was going to mess with him.

"Are you from town?" Pearce asked.

"No, I'm from Cork originally, but I moved here, and I worked in a school," Rachel said.

Pearce seemed to be intrigued with Rachel. He ordered a draft of whitebeer. The man to his left vacated his seat, so Pearce sat next to Racheleasily.