In Hell: When Love Kills A Small Town Mystery

Chapter 29

Jamie's call came in a few hours later. The sheriff had just returned to the office. Noble's heart sank down to his shoelaces.

"I'll go tell her if you don't want to do it," Jamie said to Noble. "I don't know her like you do, boss."

"Nah," said the old man. "It's my duty. She deserves to hear about her brother's death from the Sheriff himself. Not from a deputy. I'll do it."

Noble walked to his car with leaden steps. His shoulders drooped. This was not going to be easy, and he would have given anything not to have to be the bearer of such horrible news. Noble pulled the patrol car up to the mansion's door. He cut the motor and sat staring at the place.

So much water had passed under their bridges.

A lifetime's worth.

They had all grown old together on this little patch of God's earth – a hot, steamy, succulent place. A harsh and unforgiving place. A place of great beauty – once.

He wished he could turn back Time. Not an hour or so. But decades.

None of them could have ever guessed how things would turn out. When the plant was busy and the orders seemed like they'd keep coming forever, the town teamed with life.

"We didn't know just how good we had it back then," Noble whispered.

He heard the soft cry of a mourning dove in the meadow. No sense putting it off, he thought, opening the car door. To his surprise, the great doors of the mansion parted before his boots touched the porch.

Golden light from the entryway softly lit the night. Dixie's silhouette stood in the middle. Not even cancer could bow her straight, proud stance, Noble thought.

"He's dead, isn't he," she said. "That's what you've come to tell me, isn't it? Come in, Noble. Come in. I knew it. He was reckless, careless, and laughed in Death's face. Why shouldn't Death have the last laugh?"

"How did you know?" he asked.

"You would not be out here for any other reason," she said simply. "If it was his drug dealing, you would have dealt with that by phone. Besides, I felt it. Some vague heaviness. I knew I'd lose him tonight."

A sheepish look spread across the old man's face. He took off his hat, revealing the white line where the sun had not thickened his skin.

"You're right, Dixie," he said. "Deck's been killed in a motorcycle accident out by Gruin's Meadow."

"He was flying, wasn't he?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid speed was involved."

Dixie poured herself a stiff drink. She offered Noble one, but he declined.

"Stupid fool. I've warned him a thousand times. But he never listens. He's ridden his red dragon into the Eternal Night," she said.

She walked over to the window and stared out into the blackness.

"At least, I won't have to worry about what will become of him after I'm gone," she said softly.

"I'm really sorry, Dixie. If there's anything I can do ..."

Dixie was silent. Minutes passed without her saying one word. What was she thinking about, Noble wondered, watching her stand in front of the enormous window?

He tried to see any signs that the grand lady was distraught, but save for a trembling, birdlike hand, he could detect nothing. This was how the Ashlon legacy was ending. Silently disappearing, like a drop of water swallowed by sand.

She had not taken one sip of her drink. She was running on guts and resolve, Noble surmised. He waited for the collapse, the anger, any number of emotions that this type of news caused people to express. With Dixie, he saw quiet resolution. When she turned to face him, Noble saw a spark of the old steel and determination that was a trademark of her younger days.

"Actually, there is one very important thing I would like for you to do for me, Sheriff."