Page 4 of Spiritwarrior

“We don’t have to worry about Marty anymore.”

Karter raised his head. “Obviously, we do, if he mailed a letter to you.”

“Marty didn’t mail the letter to me—a lawyer did. I went to the lawyer’s office today. Marty’s dead.”

Her mother started sobbing, while Karter jerked to his feet to go back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Sophie knew why Karter had left—her stepfather didn’t want her to witness the same reaction her mother was having.

Sliding over the couch cushions, Sophie placed an arm over her mother’s shoulders. “He’s dead, Mom. You and Karter don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“Are you sure he’s dead? This could be another of his tricks.”

“He’s dead. I called the police department in Treepoint on the way here and talked to the sheriff. He is dead.”

Her mother cried harder. “Thank God,” she mumbled as she started rocking herself back and forth.

“It’s over, Mom. Marty can’t torment us anymore.”

“Thank you, God.”

Karter returned to sit down next to her mother on her other side, pulling her into his arms.

“It’s finally over,” she sobbed into his chest.

Sophie left them to go into the kitchen and found a full pot of coffee. She wanted to leave them so they could be by themselves but needed to discuss what else she had learned.

When she went back into the living room with three cups of steaming coffee, she told them, “That’s not all.”

Her parents turned their heads in her direction.

“He left a restaurant to me.”

“The one in Tennessee?”

“No, this one isin Treepoint, Kentucky.”

“Treepoint, Kentucky?”

“Yes.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

Sophie debated telling her the whole truth about what Mr. Keates had told her then decided against doing so. Her mother would argue for her to sell it before she could go and check it out. She didn’t want to make the decision until she saw the restaurant.

“Nothing yet.”

“Then what are you going to do?” Her mother wiped her tears away with the palms of her hands.

“I’m going to Treepoint.”

Chapter Two

Jody watched the numbers slowly flick over on the gas pump. The turn-of-the-century pump was slow as shit. It would be worth the twenty-minute drive to another gas station just to save his fucking time.

A car pulling up on the other side of the pump caught his attention.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, seeing the woman get out of the BMW.

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