Dead in Bed by Bailey Simms, The Complete First Book Page 4

  I had to stay calm. I had to.

  “Look,” I said to Jason, trying to control my voice. “You know me. I’m obviously not a suspect. All you have to do is move that roadblock and let me through.”

  Jason didn’t stop leaning against my car.

  Instead, he grinned. Again.

  “What’s the rush?” he said. “I mean, I can’t let you out. I already told you that. And, hell, I sure could use some company.” Now he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “Here I am, stuck out here all alone on a chilly evening. What’s the hurry?” He winked. “It’d be just like old times.”

  “Let me the fuck out.” It was everything I could do not to scream. “Right now, Jason. Let me the fuck out. There’s no way this is even legal. Let me the fuck out right now.”

  Jason put his head through the open window and brought it close to mine. He sniffed.

  “You been drinking? Ashley? Are you still drunk, maybe?” He put his finger under my chin and turned my face around toward his. He sniffed again. “I wonder if maybe you’re getting just a little belligerent. I wouldn’t want to have to detain you. But if I have to, I have to. For your own good.”

  I couldn’t even think. I had never been so enraged in my life. I just acted without planning and suddenly found that I’d slammed my foot into the gas pedal.

  My car heaved forward. Jason spun around, and the next I saw of him was just his hand flopping out through the window. I’m not sure, but I may have broken his arm.

  I didn’t have much time to wonder about it, though, because my bumper hit the two wooden police barricades. I lurched forward with the impact, and I worried for a moment that I might not make it through. But I kept my foot on the gas, and my little car surged forward, knocked the barriers aside, and sent them tumbling onto the road.

  I looked into the rearview mirror.

  My taillights were just bright enough to illuminate Jason limping forward. He raised his gun with one hand. I ducked and kept speeding forward as fast as my car would go, but I was already too far away; he lowered his gun without firing, and I turned the corner onto the completely empty highway.

  I drove faster and faster, trying to catch my breath, maxing out at a little over ninety miles an hour. The road was completely empty. The night was completely dark.

  And then I felt it: someone’s hand on my shoulder.

  I froze, terrified.

  I was driving way too fast to take my eyes off the road or move at all. My car was shuddering from the speed.

  As I tried to slow the car, for a moment I reasoned that this was impossible, that maybe my seat belt had tightened when I’d crashed through the barricades…but I wasn’t wearing my seat belt.

  Someone really was in the back of my car—had been in the back of my car this whole time—and now they were touching my shoulder.

  I felt an index finger slowly run up the skin on my neck. Very lightly, it touched my ear.

  I held on tight to the wheel and reached for the gun. I felt its metallic grip at the tips of my fingers.

  But I didn’t grab it.

  Because something really, really strange started to happen.

  It didn’t matter that I was truly afraid Haley had been hurt, or worse. Or that I was so worried I may have cheated on Shawn. Or that I was utterly terrified that someone was in the back of my car, running their finger along the softest part of my neck. Despite all of this, the weirdly euphoric sensation of invincibility that had overcome me after waking up still hadn’t gone away. If anything, it was suddenly becoming more intense.

  And not only more intense. Something else, too.

  Whoever was behind me drew their hand down over my shoulder, slowly across my ribs and abdomen, and then plunged it, very softly, into my underwear.

  I still had no idea who was doing this. And yet, somehow, I was deeply aroused.

  My thoughts flashed to dancing with Bryce Tripp, and lighting my cigarette from his, and his icy blue eyes, and for a moment I thought that someone as confident and audacious as this could only have been him.

  And then I remembered something else: it hadn’t been Morgan who’d talked Ian into having one more shot with us, like I’d thought earlier. It had been me. Morgan had been goading him, but it wasn’t until I spoke up that Ian finally glanced in my direction, and, for just a moment, he gave me this look that seemed to say I’d do anything you ask me to do, anything at all. Then he drank down his second shot.

  I took my hand off the gun.

  Instead, I clutched the fabric of Ian’s hoodie in the seat beside me.

  Whoever it was in the backseat right now, reaching even deeper into my underwear while I tried to keep the car on the road, was probably more likely to be anyone in the world other than my own sister’s husband.

  And yet no matter how well I knew it couldn’t possibly be Ian, for a moment I hoped somehow that it was.

  January 6th, 2014

  11:19 a.m.

  Author’s Update

  I slept so well last night. I mean, yeah, I was terrified because I’d actually put the first part of my novel out into the world. And it’s not like anyone’s actually going to read it, but for a moment I worried that I’d made a huge mistake. I even almost took it down. After all, the story’s not exactly family friendly. Ha ha. But I worked crazy hard writing it over the past week. And after my moment of panic, I started to feel kinda good that I’d posted it. Really good, actually. Even if it was just on this little blog. So I let myself feel a little happy as I drifted off.

  In case anyone actually does start reading this, I should probably say a little about who I am. That’s what you’re supposed to do on a blog, right? Well, I guess I'm just a girl from a small town who loves really good stories. My teacher told me I should try to publish my writing one day, so that’s what I’m trying to do—though suspense thrillers about a plague that turns people into crazed sex-fiends probably wasn't exactly what she had in mind! Ever since I learned about my stupid medical condition, though, I've been stuck at home without much else to do. And I really love writing. It's an escape, and it makes me feel better about things. So I’ve definitely decided to keep publishing new parts until the series ends—or until my dad finds out what I'm doing (if he ever sees any of this, he'll kill me).

  If by some miracle anyone out there starts reading this, it would be awesome to hear from you. Tweet or message @BaileySimms.

  xxBailey

  January 10th, 2014

  4:07 p.m.

  Part 2

  Stiff

  I’m really not the kind of person who would ever act like this—or even think like this.

  First of all, I wouldn’t ever seriously consider sleeping around on my husband, even though our marriage had fallen into a pretty deep rut. And I’m definitely not the kind of person who would ever actually get…well, just a little bit, um, wet at the touch of a stranger’s hand on my shoulder. It was true that I liked sex, just like everybody else does. And for a while I really liked it, especially with Shawn when we were younger and things had been going well between us and we were like best friends. But I would never let anyone put his hand deep into my underwear while I was careening down a highway in the dark—not even Shawn in high school. And what I would absolutely never do with a stranger’s fingertip pressed slightly inside me is actually hope that it was my sister’s husband doing it.

  Or at least I thought I wasn’t that kind of person. Until then. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

  “You’re wet,” a voice whispered behind me.

  It wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t Ian’s voice, that’s for sure. And it definitely wasn’t any guy I knew.

  Before I could react, I heard laughter. Shocked laughter. It was Morgan.

  “Oh my God!” she said, no longer whispering and now laughing out loud. She jerked her hand out of my pants. “You actually got a little into that, I think!”

  Finally I was able to slow the car to a reasonable speed, and I turned
my head just enough to glimpse the outline of Morgan’s face.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I snapped my head back around to keep my eyes on the road, then glanced in the rearview mirror. “Morgan! What are you doing in my car?”

  I was still so startled that I could barely process the fact that the person who’d just had their hand down my pants was my best friend. Maybe one time at a lame-ass football party in high school some of the guys had pressured us into kissing each other, and we’d gone along just to prove we weren’t prudes. But otherwise Morgan had never done anything like this. It really weirded me out.

  She couldn’t stop laughing. “Who did you think I was?”

  “You scared the shit of me!” I said, trying to sound more annoyed than flustered and pretending I hadn’t been turned on. “Morgan? What the hell? I almost wrecked the car! Your hands are like ice! What the fuck are you doing in here?”

  “That was the funniest thing ever!” She kept laughing. “I thought you were so scared, at first. But obviously you weren’t just scared!”

  Still giggling, she climbed over the seat. I pulled Ian’s hoodie out of the way, careful to keep the gun wrapped inside, before she sat down.

  “But, wow, actually,” she said, “I mean, where did your tummy go? There’s like nothing there.” She reached over and felt my abdomen. “I didn’t know you were trying to lose weight, Ash. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”

  I was still flustered. I couldn’t understand why Morgan would decide to hide in my car and then reach into my pants out of the blue. It was bizarre. Nothing was making any sense.

  “You’ve been spending too much time with Jason,” I mumbled.

  But even Jason’s influence couldn’t quite explain how Morgan was acting. I was still basically clueless about whatever weird shit had been happening since last night, but obviously things had gone very wrong in Muldoon, and I had a feeling they were going to get worse. And yet, here was Morgan, still laughing as if everything were perfectly normal and we’d just been out drinking together.

  “I broke it off with him last night,” she said, catching her breath after laughing and settling into the passenger seat. “He definitely wasn’t happy about it. I’ve been avoiding him. Sorry I didn’t help you deal with him back at the fairgrounds. Really, Ash, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want him to see me in the car after everything.” She slapped my arm with the back of her hand. “But that was crazy awesome what you just did! He’s such an asshole! I bet he shit his pants when you broke through that roadblock. I mean, he should totally pay if you have to fix anything on your car. I bet you could even get him fired, after all that pervy shit he said to you.”

  Morgan put her head in her hands. I could see by the dashboard lights that her hair was unbrushed and that she was still wearing the same clothes she’d worn last night.

  We were quite the pair. She looked like she’d just woken up, too.

  “I’m still so fucking hungover,” she groaned, then forced herself to straighten up. “So are you gonna tell me or what?" she asked suddenly. "What happened to you last night? I was worried.”

  I’d been hoping Morgan could help me answer this question.

  I had no idea how much she knew, but I wasn’t quite ready to tell her that I’d completely blacked out and woken up in a room at the Starlight.

  “You first,” I said. At least having Morgan in the car would help take my mind off worrying about Haley while I drove home. Now that I was recovering from her weird prank, I was actually incredibly glad to see her. “How’d it go with you and Bryce Fancy-Ass Tripp?” I asked.

  “Me?” Morgan sounded genuinely surprised. “I couldn’t even get him to notice me,” she said. “Not after we got to the bar, anyway. You were the one he couldn’t take his eyes off.”

  “I doubt that,” I said. “So I guess you didn’t get to see the inside of his bus?”

  “Seriously? You were the one who disappeared with him. You should have seen how worried Ian got before he went out looking for you.” Morgan let out a little laugh. “But after how you were dancing with him, I gotta say. I’ve been telling you all this time to think about leaving Shawn, but I kinda thought maybe you were finally going for it. And, I mean, Bryce Tripp’s not a bad a way to do it.”

  She glanced over at me.

  “Well, you know me.” I shrugged. “I’m the good kid. You said it last night. I couldn’t do something like that to Shawn.”

  I kept my eyes on the road. I could feel Morgan staring at me.

  “Okay,” she said. “So, then, what did you do after we split up? I was looking for you. I was worried, Ash.”

  “Worried? Why? I just ended up back at the beer garden for a little while.”

  I didn’t like lying to Morgan, but I was too confused about what had actually happened to just tell her the truth. I’d explain later, after I got my bearings. She’d forgive me. I hoped.

  “Then after that,” I continued, “I was at the campground with some people I met from Boulder or somewhere. I can hardly remember, actually. It’s your fault you got me so drunk. Then Ian found me and took me home.”

  “Really,” Morgan said, sounding suspicious. “Ian drove you home?”

  I wasn’t sure if she knew I was lying or if she was trying to suggest that I had something going on with Ian.

  “But what about you?” I tugged at her unbuttoned jacket sleeve and laughed. “What did you get up to?”

  “Just stayed at the bar, pretty much. They actually ran out of beer on tap around one o’clock. So everyone just had more whiskey.” She rubbed her eyes, then let out a long yawn. “When the police started making everyone leave, I couldn’t find you, and the phones were all jammed, so I just went to your car. I was gonna wait for you, but I guess I fell asleep. I tried to get out of the fairgrounds in the morning, but they wouldn’t let me. I was so hungover I just went back to your car and tried to sleep it off. I figured you’d show up eventually.”

  “So do you have any idea what happened last night?” I asked. “I mean, have you heard anything?”

  “Not a fucking clue. Some carney died at the high school, and later some kid got attacked at the fair.” She shrugged. “That’s all anyone’s saying. I was kinda wondering if Ian filled you in on any of the details today. He must know more. He didn’t say anything to you?” Morgan had that same tone in her voice again when she mentioned Ian, but now I couldn’t tell if she was suspicious or feeling guilty about something she wasn't saying. I thought about Ian’s army hoodie and his gun in my car, and Morgan sleeping there. Had she been with him?

  Of course not. Ian was married to my sister. I didn’t know why my thoughts even went there.

  “I haven’t talked to Ian,” I said, and I realized I had no idea if that was true or not. I may have talked to Ian last night and just couldn’t remember it.

  In a small town like Muldoon, word about anything gets out fast. Everyone at the bar last night already knew about the body at the high school. So it was hard to believe that no one seemed to know anything at all about the girl who’d been attacked, or who’d done it. I couldn’t figure out why the police would keep information like this secret. I also couldn’t figure out why they would block people from going in and out of the fairgrounds. It didn’t make sense that people had to stay there against their will after the cops had just evacuated the place.

  My headlights reached a car parked on the side of the road up ahead. It was the first car I’d seen anywhere near the highway. Its taillights’ red glow dimly illuminated a hay field that stretched out into the darkness from the road.

  As I drew closer, I could see that both of the car’s front doors were wide open. I couldn’t make out what kind of car it was. As far as I could tell, no one was sitting inside, and I couldn’t see anyone standing around.

  Normally I would have slowed down in case someone was in trouble or hurt. But after everything that had happened, the empty car was unnerving. I sped up just a little and passed it
.

  Morgan watched the car out the window as we drove by, and then turned around in her seat to look behind us.

  “What was that?” For some reason she was whispering. “Did you see that? Out in the field?”

  “What?”

  “Wait—go back, go back. What was that? Something was out in the field.”

  I really, really just wanted to go home. I wasn’t looking forward to confronting Shawn—I still had no idea what I was going to tell him about where I'd been last night. At least when I reached my house, though, I could call my sister and make sure Haley was safe. But I was born and raised in a small rural town, and in small rural towns you don’t just pass a car on the side of the road without making sure everything’s okay. What if someone needed help? If I were hurt on the side of the road and someone just drove by, I’d feel awful.

  I slowed down. I started to loop the car around to make a U-turn.

  “Hurry,” Morgan whispered. She tapped the window, pointing into the darkness beyond the abandoned car. “Out there. Shine your headlights out there.”

  When I was about fifty yards from the parked car, I turned the wheel so the headlights would shine in the general direction Morgan had been pointing.

  It was a hay field, pretty much just like any of the other thousands of hay fields in northern Colorado. The stubble was short; it had been cut recently. Big round bales of rolled hay were scattered as far as my headlights reached.

  “There! There!” Morgan yelled through her whispering voice. “Just turn back a little.”

  I maneuvered my car so the headlights pointed toward a part of the field they’d just passed over.

  I searched the field again, but still couldn’t see anything. There was just the abandoned car with its doors open and lights on and, out beyond, hundreds of hay bales.