Page 9 of Ghosts From Christmas Past

“Yes, we were close, and I miss them terribly.” Paul glanced up, surprised at Dylan’s stare. “The thing is, with the exception of you and your deputy and his wife, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around from her past. You’re the only family she has.” He stopped briefly for a breath. “Have you told her you two are married yet?”

Dylan wasn’t sure why he’d hesitated to mention his and Charlie’s marriage to her. God knew she needed someone she could count on. Maybe it was because they’d been married less than a day when the attack happened.

“Not yet,” he said and kept his attention on his sleeping wife. “I don’t want to rush her. I can’t imagine what’s she’s going through. Waking up from a coma and realizing she’s been out of it for eight years and has no recollection of her past.” He was her husband, yet she didn’t remember anything about him, much less their brief marriage.

The doctor patted his shoulder. “I know how hard this has been for you as well. Many would have given up. Had the marriage annulled.”

He swallowed several times. He’d never given up on her, but he’d almost lost hope. Wondered if Charlie would spend the rest of her life trapped in the coma. “I love her. I could never have our marriage annulled.”

Paul smiled. “She’s lucky to have you. I’ll leave it up to you to tell her about your marriage. But perhaps when she’s stronger, maybe you can find the time to show her around town a little. Maybe take her to some of the places you two used to hang out at as teenagers. Anything that might spark a memory.”

Dylan’s spirits lifted. “Oh course. I’d be happy to.”

“Good. I believe you’ll be the one to help her fill in the missing pieces of her life. You knew Charlie better than anyone. Hopefully, you can help her make peace with the past. It won’t be good for anyone to hold onto that tragedy. I’ll see you soon.” Paul headed back to his office, and Dylan stared after him.

Make peace? Not find out who was responsible for killing her parents? A strange way of putting it, or was he simply looking for a killer everywhere?

Dylan headed out to his patrol vehicle. Darkness had found them, even though it was barely five. In the Rocky Mountains of Wyoming, night came on quickly. The snow that had been falling most of the day intensified the darkness in his heart. As he drove through town, all around him brightly lit Christmas decorations announced the season was upon them.

He drove past Trawick’s Drive-In where he and Charlie had spent so much time as teenagers. They’d had their first date there, shared their first kiss. He’d asked her to marry him in that same corner booth. Happier memories swamped his heart. Their lives would forever be interwoven no matter what the future held.

Dylan headed out of town toward his family’s ranch. With his parents’ move to Texas and warmer temperatures, he’d decided to stay on at the ranch. It was the only home he’d ever known, and he enjoyed working the cattle.

He’d been sheriff of Bitter County for almost a year now, and yet he still felt as if he were learning the job. While he knew just about everyone in the county, and the crime rate was slim compared to other parts of the state, he and his two deputies kept busy enough most days.

Dylan drove past Charlie’s family home as he had every single day for the past eight years. On a whim, he turned around and pulled into the drive.

Something claimed his attention right away, and he stopped hard. Tracks. Someone else had been here recently. The tracks showed through the current snowfall.

Dylan grabbed his flashlight and got out. Shining the beam on the ground, he studied the tracks. They appeared to be like the tread found on any truck around the community, and there were plenty. He walked a little way down the drive and focused the light all around. Was the trespasser still here?

The place had sat vacant since that day. The house and property had gone into a trust that was administered by a trustee of the Swenson family. Dylan had been appointed caretaker of the home. He stopped by a couple of times a month to check on things. There’d been no break-ins. Nothing stolen from the property.

But someone had been here recently. With what intent? Had they been lost and used the place to turn around? Or was the killer returning to his hunting grounds to relive the murders?

An uneasy feeling sped between his shoulder blades. Dylan climbed back into his cruiser and drove down the winding drive while he avoided using the tracks. There didn’t appear to be any attempt to turn around. Almost as if the driver had known where he was going.

The house appeared through the trees, its dark silhouette a sad reminder of the past and the people who had once lived here. Every single time he came by, the memory of Charlie lying on the floor in a pool of blood was in his thoughts.

Snow filtered through the headlight’s beams. Dylan studied the place that had been like a second home. Darkness surrounded the home that had once been filled with so much life, and it was heartbreaking.

Something off captured his attention inside the house. A light was on. He was positive he hadn’t left any lights on the last time he visited.

Someone had been or was still inside the house.

Dylan immediately unholstered his weapon and grabbed the flashlight. Opening the cruiser door, he eased out and carefully closed the door without making too much noise. As quietly as possible, he slid to the steps and climbed them, then he stopped in front of the door. It stood slightly ajar. Just like that morning.

Fear shot up his frame. He inched the door the rest of the way open with his weapon, waited a breath, then went inside. The light came from the living room. The rest of the house was dark.

He spotted the small lamp that sat near Barlow’s favorite chair. Dylan could remember all the times he’d come here and found Barlow reading the Bible there in that same spot.

Everything in the room appeared as he’d left it. . . until he got a better look. On the end table by the chair, Barlow’s Bible now lay on the floor as if someone had come inside and had a look around. Picked up things. Probably had no idea they’d even knocked the book over. Or was it intentional?

Dylan quickly searched the rest of the house and cleared it before he called his deputy, Jesse Walker.

“What’s up, boss?” He and Jesse had known each other almost as long as Dylan had been friends with Charlie.

“I’m over at the Swenson place. I need you and Sam here now.Someone has broken in.”

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