The Mourning Tree

Nathan didn't have an answer to that, but Sheriff's Sandusky's footsteps on the stairs saved him from having to think of one.

"The downstairs is clean. No sign that Travis was ever here."

"I told you that already," said Imogene.

"Sorry for disturbing you," said the sheriff.

Imogene started to snap an angry response but doubled over coughing instead. She leaned on Sandusky's arm, and he gently guided her back downstairs to her chair.

"Do you need me to call anyone?" he asked worriedly.

"I'll be fine. The church sends someone over every afternoon to check on me."

"I see. Well...We will be on our way then."

"Don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya!" growled Imogene reclining backward.

"So, we're back to square one," said Nathan in the car.

"Yeah, I was hoping we might find something to lead us to Travis," said Sandusky.

"It might be time to admit that he just isn't here."

"Probably. There is one other person we could talk too, but I've been avoiding it."

"Oh?"

"Travis's Uncle, Ray Coleman. He lives out on Old Boggy Road, even for here it's the middle of nowhere. The two of them weren't exactly tight, and Ray is almost as big an asshole as his brother, but in a pinch, Travis might have turned to him for help."

Nathan shrugged, it was better than nothing.

SINS OF THE FATHER -

The police cruiser bounced like a rubber ball as the sheriff tried to avoid the many potholes that lined the old dirt road that wound back into the forest.

"Sweet Jesus!" exclaimed Nathan when his head hit the back of the seat hard enough to remind him he still had a headache.

"Sorry...This road has seen better days."

"I can see why you didn't want to come out here."

"The road wasn't the only reason. Ray can be a bit skittish around law enforcement. He did some time for petty theft about twenty years back, and he's had a low opinion of cops ever since."

"Is he dangerous?"

"Depends on how drunk he is, and whether or not the Wranglers lost recently. He's a big fan."

The road turned and dead-ended in a small clearing next to a dirty looking trailer that sat up on cinder blocks. The windows were so grungy one couldn't see inside, and the woods were alive with the sounds of birds and buzzing insects as they exited the car.

"Hang back," cautioned Sheriff Sandusky.

The chunky lawman put one hand on his holster and stepped toward the door.

"Ray! It's Sheriff Sandusky! I need to talk to you."

Silence answered his call, and he took another step toward the trailer.

"I know you're here, Ray, your pickup is parked. Why don't you come on out and we can talk like men?"

Again, he didn't get an answer.

"Maybe he went for a walk or something?" suggested Nathan.

The sheriff turned to answer when the whip-crack sound of a rifle shot broke the silence and sent Sandusky sprawling to the ground.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted, holding his leg where a bullet had punched through his upper thigh, leaving a spreading bloodstain on his pants.

Nathan drew his sidearm in one smooth motion answering the gunfire with a volley of his own. He fired half-a-dozen times at where he had seen the rifle flash near one of the dirty windows shattering the glass and boring holes in the aged aluminum.

"Hang on!" shouted Nathan sprinting forward, still firing, to grab one of the sheriff's beefy arms and drag him back toward the safety of the open door of the cruiser.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid..." groaned the sheriff holding his leg, "I knew better than to go trotting up there like that...this was exactly what I was trying to avoid."

"How bad is it?" asked Nathan slapping another clip into his weapon.

"Not serious, I don't think. Bullet went right on through; if it had hit the artery, I'd be bleeding a Hell of a lot more."

Another rifle shot shattered one of the car windows, and Nathan ducked down.

"Can you cover me?"

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't like getting shot at. I'm going to go register a complaint with the owner."

"That's not a smart idea."

"Maybe not, but it's been that kind of day."

The sheriff grunted and managed to pull himself up, slipping his gun from its holster and sighting along the barrel.

"On three..." said Nathan.

"One."

"Two."

"Three!"

The sheriff cut loose, and Nathan waited for a heartbeat for the bullets to start striking the trailer before he broke from cover and sprinted the short distance toward the front door. As he suspected, the door was in terrible shape, and he crashed through it with almost no effort throwing himself flat as he came on. A tall, thin man in a ratty t-shirt lay on the ground, not ten feet from him taking cover from Sandusky's fire, a hunting rifle next to him.

"Is this any way to greet visitors?" yelled Nathan, point his gun at the smelly homeowner.

"You're on private property. I got the right to defend my home!" wailed Ray as Nathan handcuffed him and hauled him to his feet.

Nathan leaned Ray Coleman against the hood of the cruiser while he went over to check on the sheriff.

"We need to get you an ambulance."

"I tried the radio, but the transmission isn't getting through," said Sandusky.

"O.K. I'll drive you back. Let me get Mr. Stink here in the back."

It took a heck of an effort, but Nathan just managed to man-handle the sheriff's bulky frame into the passenger seat.

"Why the Hell were you shooting at me, Ray?" snapped Sandusky over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Bart. I thought you was after my still, and I ain't going back to jail!"

"Your fucking still? Jesus...Ray. Yeah, making your own hooch is illegal without a license, but it's a fucking misdemeanor. I wouldn't put you in jail for that, you moron!"

"Shooting a police officer, however..." cut in Nathan.

"Shit..." mumbled Ray looking down at the floorboard.

"We came because we were looking for Travis Coleman."

Ray snorted, "Travis? Shit, I ain't seen Travis since he left town years ago."

Nathan looked over at his colleague.

"We just can't catch a break."

The town didn't have a proper hospital, but Deputy Hammond called the local doctor who came to check on the sheriff and stayed with him while an ambulance was sent over from the county seat in Bradshaw. While they waited, Ray Coleman was processed and locked up.

"It's been a heck of a day. I think we ought to call it, " said Sandusky from where he lounged in a chair his leg propped up.

"Yeah...I suppose so. My ribs are killing me, anyway. I think I'll go back to the hotel. Maybe I'll swing by the hospital tomorrow and check in before I go."

"I take it you've had enough?"

"I'm convinced I'm not going to find him here. It's looking more and more likely, he went south as we figured all along."

"Well, if you change your mind, I'm sure Gary here would be happy to help you with the locals."

Deputy Hammond rolled his eyes but didn't offer a comment.

"I don't know. Let me sleep on it and see how I'm thinking in the morning."

The ambulance pulled up outside, and Thelma Martin made a big production out of chasing everyone else away while she made sure that her boss was safe and sound onboard.

"Quit being such a mother hen, Thelma. I'm going to be fine!" said the irritated sheriff.

"You wait until your wife hears what happened, Bart Sandusky! There is going to be Hell to pay!" she assured him.

Bart made a face knowing she was right about that.

"Don't you go telling her, Mrs. Loud Mouth. I'll do it myself."

The loud cry of the sirens drowned out whatever Thelma said in reply.

Nathan chuckled to himself at the goings-on while walking back to his car. It may not have been Houston, but Harwood had turned out to be much more of an adventure than he had expected. Starting the engine, he turned down the main street headed back to his hotel when he spotted the florist shop, and an idea began to take shape in his head. He swung the car into an available spot and went inside, looking at the explosion of color that was the interior of the store. For a small shop in an equally small town, it was well stocked with every type of flower he had ever seen. A large vase of red roses caught his eye, and he stepped over to take a look at them.

"Yellow roses," said the old woman who sat behind the counter.

"I beg your pardon?" replied Nathan.

"Holly likes yellow roses. If you're going to apologize, that would be the way to go."

Nathan shook his head.

"Small towns..." he thought absently.

"How did you know I was buying flowers for Holly?"

"You'd be a fool not too."

"Fair point. O.K., Miss?"

"Violet. Violet Stemple, Detective. I'll wrap some up for you."

"Thanks, Violet."

"Do you want to pick a card?"

"No...I think I will deliver these in person. Thanks."

He went back to the hotel to clean up properly and then stopped in town one more time at the toy shop to buy a present for Sam before making the long drive out to Holly's place.

The old farmhouse was lit in the failing light, and since his previous arrival, a pair of carved jack-o-lanterns had taken up residence on either side of the steps up to the front porch. Their leering faces almost made him shudder, and as always, he fought down a feeling of loss as he passed them.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

The door swung back, and once again, he was struck momentarily speechless by the beautiful face of Holly Mansfield.

"Jesus! Nathan, what happened to you?" she said, stepping out on the porch.

"I guess for once the gossip hasn't made it's way out to you yet. I got in a little scrape. It's nothing."

She stepped closer to look at his face.

"I should see the other guy, right?"

"Guys...and I think I may have gotten the worst of it. Look, Holly. I came to apologize for my behavior last night."

"You scared the shit out of Sam," she said defensively.

"I know, and I feel terrible about it. I brought him something. Would it be alright if I apologized to him in person?"

Holly's face softened.

"Sure, but he isn't here right now. I let him spend the night with his cousin, Teddy."

"Oh..." said Nathan, disappointed.

"Is there something wrong with your arm?" she asked.

Nathan had been keeping his other arm, the one holding the flowers, behind his back. He swept it around with a flourish holding the bouquet out to her.

"These are for you. Again, I'm sorry."

"Yellow roses. My favorite. You've been talking to Violet Stemple."

Nathan laughed, "It is a small town as I'm quickly coming to learn."

"Come on in then," she said.

Holly got down a vase in the kitchen and worked to cut the flowers and place them in it with some sugar and water.

"I was just about to sit down and eat. It's leftover meatloaf, but I have plenty if you want some."

"That sounds great. Thanks."

"We could have some wine with dinner since Sam isn't here?"

"Um...actually, I don't drink anymore," he said quietly, and Holly just nodded, opting not to pry.

They sat at the same table where two nights earlier, Nathan had enjoyed some of the finest fried chicken in the known world. He decided after two bites that Holly's meatloaf was pretty darn close to perfect as well. They ate mostly in silence, enjoying the food.

"You should open a restaurant. You're an amazing cook."

"Keep kissing my ass. You're getting back on my good side," said Holly with a wink.

"I do feel very badly about what happened," he said, putting down his fork and pushing back from the table.

"We don't have to talk about it unless that's what you want?"

Nathan took a deep breath.

"Can we sit outside?"

"Sure."

Holly quickly cleaned off the table, and they went outside, taking a seat on the white porch swing that Holly's dad had made himself by hand when she had been a child. The evening was clear and crisp. The temperature was finally starting to drop, and stars showed brightly across the night sky.

"I've never seen so many stars," said Nathan.

"I guess in the big city, it all gets blotted out."

"Yeah...You wouldn't think too much light could be a bad thing, but then you look up and realize what you're missing."

"Whose Jonah?"

A long pause followed the question while Nathan seemed to contemplate the sparkling sky.

"Jonah...Jonah was my son..."

Holly watched him, not prodding, but waiting patiently while Nathan struggled to move forward, rubbing at his pants legs with shaking hands.

"He...Uh...died along with my wife in an accident last Halloween. They were crossing the street, and a car turned right into them... a bunch of drunk kids."

"That was why you freaked out when you saw Sam standing at the crosswalk?"

"Yeah...for just a second, I was back there again. I was standing there, and I saw Jonah. I saw him plain as day about to walk out into all that traffic, and I had to do something. I didn't mean to scare Sam."

"I know you didn't," she said soothingly, reaching out to take one of his hands.

He squeezed her tiny hand in his as if it was an anchor, and by holding it, he could stay grounded and not fly off into the grief that wanted to consume him.

"Thousands in therapy bills, and you think I would have a better handle on things."

"There are some things that only time and distance can ever make better. I bet you've come a long way from where you were."

"True...back in the day, I would be face down in the gutter by now."

"Then, I would say this is a big improvement."

"Tell that to Smitty."

"Honestly, I think he looks better with the broken nose."

Nathan laughed.

"I'm glad you're here. I haven't talked about Jonah to anyone since I got out of therapy. I guess I still have some things to resolve."

"They tell me down at the beauty salon I'm the best listener in the place. Just asked Rose Murdle, 'Who gives the best relationship advice?'"

"I have no doubt it would be you."

"Yep! Back in high school, all the girls used to come to me to sort out their love lives for them. I just wish I had been better at sorting out my own."

"Typical. It's always easier to advise on other people's lives than to see where you could use some advice about your own situation."

"Don't feel bad for me, though. It's not like I had a tough life back then. Heck, I was head cheerleader for the state champion Harwood Wranglers!"

"You were head cheerleader, huh?"

"Yes, sir. I can also quite proudly say that I can still fit into my cheerleader outfit, not many women can do that when they're my age."

Nathan felt his heart race in his chest when his mind conjured an image of Holly in a cheerleader outfit.

"You know, they put me on the cover of the yearbook. It was quite an honor."

"I bet you were the talk of the town."

"Would you like to see it?"

"Sure..."

Nathan followed Holly back inside, realizing at the same time that she had deftly maneuvered him into not dwelling on Jonah.

"Woman should be a licensed therapist," he said under his breath.

She guided him to the couch and went over to a bookshelf returning with a heavy, bound volume that, as she had stated, had a picture of her on the front in a cheerleading uniform beneath a wide banner with the school's name and mascot painted on it.

"Wow! Look at you. You've hardly changed."

"Keep kissing," she said with a chuckle.

They started to flip through the pages looking at pictures from years ago. Holly was featured in a lot of them, and so was Travis.

"Homecoming..." she said wistfully.

"My mom worked for weeks sewing that dress. I kept trying to get her to lower the neckline, and she kept telling me, 'Holly Mansfield, you got nothing to show off, so why draw attention to it!' My mom wasn't one for being subtle."

"You looked beautiful. Way prettier than any girl I ever dated back then."

"Oh...I think you're shining me on! A handsome guy like you? I'll bet you were quite the lady killer back in the day."

"I dated around my fair share, but no one like you; that's for sure..."

A quiet moment followed where the two were looking at each other. The sort of universal moment that sometimes happens between two people who share an attraction. A pregnant pause with the world holding its breath to see what will be born from all those longing stares, assuming one or the other is brave enough to take the plunge.

Nathan hadn't needed that kind of courage for a long time, but he found it somewhere within himself, and he closed the distance between him and Holly, meeting her lips a second later.

Holly's soft, full lips were unadorned but just as silky smooth as they appeared. He drank in the feel of her, the warmth of her mouth, the velvet caress of her lips, sweet rubbing that made shivers roll down his spine. Her hand came up to brush against his face, touching the skin, fingertips brushing across the stubble. The kiss lingered, grew more hungry, heads sliding from side to side. Holly surprised him by slipping her tongue into his mouth, teasing the tip of his with slow, sensual flicks. He groaned, feeling a rising tide of desire sweeping through him. Without thinking, he slid his arms down and pulled her toward him, letting her legs drop to either side of his so that she was entirely in his lap. She slipped her arms around his neck, kissing him harder, more desperately, their tongues dueling in a wet, passionate exchange.

When they finally parted, they were both panting and trembling.

"Is this o.k.?" she asked in a low voice.

"I want it to be o.k," he replied.

She answered with a smile and reached down to pull her shirt off over her head.

In the low light of the single lamp in the living room, Holly's flawless, fair skin shown bright as newly fallen snow. A gorgeous, milky expanse that Nathan didn't hesitate to run his hands across, up along her ribs, and across her perky, bra-clad breasts gently cupping them through the thin material. Holly gasped when he briefly rubbed her hard nipples through the cloth, and he smiled wickedly at how sensitive she was to his touch. They came together, kissing again, hot, needful kisses filled with deep, probing licks and lots of rubbing.

Nathan's searching hands found the hooks holding her bra in place, and he opened them on the first try, mentally patting himself on the back for remembering how.

The restraining cups fell free, and Holly leaned back again to give Nathan a full view of her bare chest. Though not impressive in size, her perfectly round B-cups were firm, sitting high on her chest, their creamy white perfection capped with small, light pink areolas and very stiff, dime-sized nipples that were darkening into brick red knots even as he looked on.

"Damn...Holly...You're so beautiful..."

She cried out into the empty room as he took her breasts into his hands and brought his mouth to them. He sucked them hungrily, letting his tongue tease her nipples into swelling even further, poking into his mouth. Holly leaned back, breath coming in hard gasps, body shaking while Nathan toyed with her aroused tits. When he bit down on one round, turgid cherry, she grabbed the back of his head.

"Fuck! Yes! Ah! Nathan! You have no idea how bad I've wanted you to touch me like this...Oh! Baby! You're making my tits feel so good!"

The heat between them grew more quickly now, Holly rubbing her crotch up against his stiff penis, feeling the hardness of it through his pants and wanting to feel it much, much closer. She slipped out of his lap, reluctantly pulling her spit covered breasts from his suckling mouth so that she could strip off her shorts. Beneath, all that remained was her thin, lacy pink panties, and she watched Nathan's eyes glitter with even more excitement when she pushed them to the ground exposing her neatly trimmed, bright red bush.

Nathan began to unbutton his shirt frantically, finally opting to pull it and his undershirt off over his head. Holly almost laughed at his comic effort to get up off the couch to remove his pants, but in the end, she moved in to offer aid.