In the Arms of Stone Angels

chapter two


My chances of getting away were blown apart by the man chasing me. He was too fast. When I knew I wouldn’t make the stone wall of the cemetery, images flashed through my head. I pictured getting raped or killed, but I wasn’t going down like some crying, scared little girl. I stopped and turned, clutching the flashlight in my hands and bracing my body for a fight. And when I flicked on the light, I pointed it at him and clenched my right fist, ready to punch him.

Putting on a show—of courage I didn’t have—was my only defense.

“Stop. Don’t come any closer,” I demanded. I sounded angry, but I was mostly scared. “Why are you chasing me?” My voice cracked.

The light blinded him. He stopped dead in his tracks and raised a hand to block the glare. I kept the light steady on his face, but I saw how much bigger he was than me. And I saw one other thing.

The guy wore a uniform and he carried a gun. I’d been running from a cop. Great, just great!

“I didn’t know you were…” I choked. And I was seriously out of breath. “You…scared me.”

“I identified myself back there, but you kept running.” With all the yelling he’d done, the stuff I never heard, the cop probably did try to identify himself. Now he was winded from chasing me and he took charge. “I need to see ID.”

“You first. Show me your badge.” I had my rights. And even though I wasn’t sure if I’d broken any laws being in a graveyard after hours, I figured it never hurt to stall. After all, I’d lived my life procrastinating. And that wouldn’t change anytime soon, not if I could put it off.

But my biggest reason to stall was that I left home without ID. What the hell? Who knew?

In the pale glow of my flashlight, I got a look at the badge of Deputy Will Tate. He wasn’t ancient like Sheriff Logan. This guy was much younger. If I had to guess, I would say he was in his mid to late twenties. And he definitely tipped the scale toward cute. He had short brown hair and kind blue eyes with a faint dimple on his right cheek when he talked. The deputy hadn’t been around two years ago when I had my troubles. If he had, I would have remembered him.

The way I figured it, I had a slim shot at talking my way out of being hauled in for trespassing by this deputy, except for one obstacle.

Talking. I hated talking, especially in sentences.

It wasn’t my thing, but I had to give it a shot. I sure as hell didn’t want Mom to find out I’d gotten busted on my first night in Shawano. And when I thought of facing Sheriff Logan again, I would have preferred eating glass to spending more time in his jail.

Talking. I had to talk. Shit!

“How did you know I was here?” I asked. A girl had to know where she went wrong.

“I saw you scale the wall.” He didn’t look happy. “What were you doing in the cemetery at this hour?”

It didn’t take me long to come up with an answer.

“My grandmother died and I came to see her. To talk to her.” I had plans to visit Grams before I left the graveyard. I hadn’t completely lied. “I missed her funeral and my mom and I just got back to town. I had to see Grams. We were close, real close.”

I nodded and shoved my hands into my jean jacket, avoiding his eyes. I never knew what to do with my hands. And even though I was laying it on thick, what I’d told him hadn’t all been lies.

“By now you’re probably figuring out that I left home without ID. I didn’t figure I’d get carded at the cemetery. My name’s Brenna Nash. My mom and I just got in to Oklahoma from North Carolina today.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. Using my thumbs, I keyed up the ID on my phone. “See? That’s the 411 on me. And my cell number has the area code for North Carolina. I live in Charlotte.”

He eyeballed me sideways, like he still wasn’t sure.

“Where are you staying here?” he asked.

“My grandmother’s house. I’m helping my mom fix it up to sell.” I gave him Grams’s address and told him about my mom being a Realtor, like he cared. “Like I said, we just got to town and I couldn’t sleep. I had to see Grams.”

I chewed on the corner of my lip, hoping to God that he didn’t ask me to show him where Grams was buried. If he knew I was blowing smoke, he’d bust me for sure. Deputy Tate narrowed his eyes and focused them on me. I knew he was sizing me up.

I suddenly wished that I hadn’t lied to him. He had the kind of eyes that made me want to tell the truth—like lying under the stars—but when it came to self-preservation and avoiding a night in jail, all bets were off.

He handed back my phone and said, “I’m driving you home. Come on.”

“But here’s the thing, Deputy Tate.” I winced. “Mom doesn’t know I’m here. And if I come home in a patrol car on my first night, she’d freak and ground me for life. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was only visiting the grave of my dead grandmother.”

Playing the dead grandmother card was getting old, even for me.

“Is there any way you could cut me some slack,” I asked. “You know, as a welcome-home gesture?”

“I’m not the welcoming committee, Ms. Nash.”

“I know, but you’re a young guy. You know what it’s like, right?”

I didn’t do cute. And I had another problem. I wrung my hands and shuffled my feet. On top of everything I had against me—now I had to pee.

“I’d appreciate a lift, but can you just watch me until I get inside Grams’s house?” I worked hard to control the whine in my voice. “My mom will kill me if I wake her. She had a long day of driving.”

I held up the key to Grams’s house and dangled it in the light. “See? Here’s my key. To my dead grandmother’s house.” I pictured Grams shaking her head. Sometimes—like now—I wished I didn’t have to hear me talk.

“I promise.” I crossed my heart. “You won’t catch me doing this again. I swear to God.”

I hoped he hadn’t noticed my subtle wording that he wouldn’t “catch me doing this again.” I would definitely have to be more careful next time.

Deputy Tate heaved a sigh and pointed a finger at me. “If I ever have to chase you down again for something…”

I didn’t let him finish.

“You won’t. I promise.” I forced a grin. Smiling made my face hurt. “And thanks for the lift. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do.”

I followed him to his squad car and kept my mouth shut, something I wished I had done earlier. But I’d been serious about owing Deputy Tate. A guy in uniform, who knew how to bend the rules for a kid like me, was a good guy in my book and a real exception to the rule in this town.

For some reason, I seriously didn’t want to let Will Tate down—not unless it became really, really…really necessary.

Next Day—Noon

I was dragging. And I was too stubborn to admit that pulling an all-nighter had anything to do with it. The brutal Oklahoma sun beat down on me as I pulled weeds and long strands of Bermuda grass from Grams’s flower beds. And no matter where I worked, the heat made me miserable. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and took a gulp of lukewarm water from a bottle.

I went against my natural instincts as a teenager and didn’t complain. I figured the heat and sweat were my penance for Deputy Tate taking pity on me last night. All things considered, I should have felt lucky, except White Bird was on my mind.

Today was the day I would see him again.

A part of me desperately wanted to be with him and talk like we used to. Even being with him in our comfortable silences would have been great. I wondered how much he had changed or if he would notice that I had grown up, too. I wasn’t that thirteen-year-old awkward girl at the creek anymore. I was a sixteen-year-old awkward girl. But a huge part of me dreaded seeing him in that place—a mental hospital—knowing I had something to do with why he was there.

I hadn’t actually seen him kill Heather and I didn’t know anything about why he’d done it. But walking away from a boy I had grown to love—and betraying our relationship by siding with the sheriff and turning him in without talking to him—hadn’t felt right, either. I was confused and completely unsure if I had done the right thing. And I knew my mom would have never understood that.

No one would.

“Bren? It’s pretty hot out here. You okay?” My mom’s voice came from behind me. She was coming off the porch, heading toward me.

I sat back on my haunches to stretch my back and said, “I’m good.”

“Yeah, you are. You’ve done a lot, honey.” She smiled and handed me a fresh bottle of cold water. “All these beds were really overgrown. This whole front yard used to be nothing but flowers. Do you remember that?”

I nodded and shrugged before I sucked down the cold water.

“Looks like we have an audience.” Mom stared across the street and caught the movement of miniblinds in a front window. I’d been seeing it all morning. We were the new scandal to entertain the neighborhood. And I had no doubt that we were the subject of countless phone calls. If anyone hadn’t found out that we were back in town, they’d know after today. Bad news spread like an Oklahoma wildfire in Shawano.

“Yeah, it’s been like that all morning.” I grimaced and got back to work.

“People used to be friendly in this town.”

Yeah, but friends dry up when your daughter is linked to a murder. I didn’t have to say it. I knew what she was thinking.

“I don’t want you working through the heat of the day, hon.” She handed me her car keys, a piece of paper and cash. “I need more cleaning supplies and a few things from the hardware store. I wrote it all down.”

“You mean—? Ah…yeah, sure.” I almost smiled when I heard she wanted me to drive. I may have had a restricted driver’s license, but that didn’t mean I had a restricted spirit. Driving the car on my own was still exciting for me. After I looked at the list, I said, “Yeah, I can pick these up. No problem.”

“Good. And I found your old bicycle in the garage. It’s not in bad shape. You could put air in the tires when you fill up my car with gas.”

“A bicycle?” I scrunched my face as an image of Pee-wee Herman flashed in my head.

“Oh, come on. You’ll have it when I’ve got the car. Don’t worry. You’ll get plenty of driving time.”

Mom didn’t give me a chance to argue. And I got over the bicycle thing in a hurry. Only one question remained. Could I run her errands and visit White Bird without Mom knowing it? Having wheels would make a big difference. This was too good to be true and I had to take advantage of my stroke of good luck.

I’d see White Bird today, whether I was ready to or not.



Derek Bast had driven around the block more than a few times in his black Ford F-150 truck with heavily tinted windows. He didn’t want the neighbors to notice his interest in Brenna Nash, so he’d parked down the block. And she’d made it easy for him by working in the front yard of her grandmother’s house.

“How did you know she was stayin’ here?” Justin asked and took a sip of his Sonic Blue Slush. “This is an old neighborhood. I would’ve expected her to be at some motel, man.”

“Word spread fast when that Indian-lovin’ skank came back to town. Like I said, she ain’t wanted here. That’s all you got to know.” He grimaced at Justin through the rearview mirror. “And you gotta quit ordering those blue faggot drinks. Man up, a*shole.”

Jeff and Garrett laughed. He knew he’d get a rise out of them. Justin was the guy everyone picked on and it was way too easy. The only reason he let the guy hang with him and his crew was because Justin did everything he was told.

“Hey, looks like something’s happening.” Justin pointed. “She’s goin’ somewhere.”

When her mom talked to her in the yard, she handed over keys and some other stuff. And Brenna had gone back into the house.

“Let’s wait awhile, see what she does.” Derek sent a text message and waited. It didn’t take long for a reply to come back. His cell phone signaled that he had a text.

“Is that her again?” Justin asked, leaning forward to check out his cell from the back seat. “She’s been texting you all morning, man.”

“Shut your pie hole. You’re giving me a headache.” Derek glared at blue-slush boy. “You’re like some nosy little girl, dude. Mind your own business and grow a dick.”

Derek would have thumped Justin in the head, but movement down the street caught his eye. Like he figured, the bitch came out of her house again after she’d changed clothes. She was heading for her mom’s car—and that made him smile.

“She’s on the move. And so are we.” Derek started his engine.

He’d have to follow her at a safe distance until he picked the right time and place to clue her in. She wasn’t welcome here. Before he pulled from the curb to follow her, he sent a quick text message on his cell.

Heather Madsen had friends in Shawano. He wasn’t the only one who hated Brenna Nash’s guts. That bitch would have to watch her back. Today would be a warning.

Next time would be…way more.

Nearly Two Hours Later

After hitting two stores, I had every item on Mom’s list checked off in record time. As I came out of Home Depot carrying my bags and heading for my car, I glanced down at my watch. Visiting hours at the hospital had already started. I could be there in thirty minutes. It would have been tight for me to visit White Bird, but I’d called Mom from the hardware aisle and told her I was hungry and had a craving for Chick-fil-A.

That wasn’t total bullshit.

But my being hungry wouldn’t get in the way of the real reason I was taking a side trip. Red Cliffs Hospital was an examination and detention center, according to what I’d read in the phone book. And I had called the facility earlier to find out about visiting hours. I wasn’t sure how tight security would be in a detention center. Maybe I was fooling myself to think I could walk in and see him, but I had to take a chance.

I owed him that much.

But as I was putting the last of my shopping bags into the trunk of the Subaru, a truck barreled up to my car and screeched its tires behind me. My heart jumped and so did I. When I turned, the chrome grill of the truck was only a couple of feet from my legs.

And a familiar face was smirking at me through the windshield—Derek Bast. He wasn’t alone. Bullies like Derek traveled in herds. They dressed alike. And looked alike. No-neck bubbas in muscle shirts who wore sweats that reminded everyone they were jocks—like “duh,” anyone could forget. But Derek’s brain-dead crew was meaner than most.

They were clones of Derek, a semihuman version of a junk-yard dog. And to make matters worse, Derek was the nephew of Sheriff Logan. That had always bought him special treatment in town, but his status as a football jock had apparently earned him even more star power. I’d read about him and some of the other kids in Shawano on Facebook after I’d left the state.

I knew they wouldn’t “friend” me if they recognized my name and photo so I made up an online name, “Rolo Girl.” I was addicted to chocolate and had the zits to prove it, but the chewy caramel center in a Rolo had reminded me of the color of White Bird’s skin, so I was hooked. And for my Facebook photo, I took a pic of my “screw you” toes and posted it. That worked for me, so I became one of the two thousand plus friends Jade DeLuca had on Facebook. And with her being the apparent heir to Heather’s vacant throne, Derek was always on her page, the idiot.

Whenever he got out of control, everyone in this town knew how to turn the other way and Derek had always known how to take advantage of that.

Mr. Teflon scared me plenty.

“Well, look who’s back, guys.” Derek got out of his truck and his boys followed. Four of his buddies slipped beside him and blocked me in. I couldn’t run, even if I wanted to. “Guess you didn’t get it through your thick skull the first time. Your pal, Tonto, killed a white girl. And he’s gonna pay for that. He can’t hide forever, pretending to be a retard.”

Derek backed me against my car and I could barely breathe. And when I didn’t say anything, he wouldn’t let it go. From the corner of my eye, I saw shoppers coming out of Home Depot. Most of them rushed by and didn’t make eye contact. No one was going to help me…until one woman grabbed her cell and made a call. I hoped she dialed 911, but I couldn’t be sure.

“That damned Indian killed Heather. Ain’t you got nothin’ to say?” He stared down at me. “He’s gonna pay when they stick a needle in his arm.” I felt his bully friends close in and the heat mixed with the stink of sweat and body odor. It was so bad that I had to hold my breath, but Derek’s words were even more torture.

I imagined White Bird strapped to a table in an execution room and it scared the hell out of me—like I needed something else to keep me up nights.

“He hasn’t been convicted. His case never went to court.” I swallowed hard and raised my chin, digging deep for a little defiance.

Being related to the sheriff, Derek wasn’t stupid enough to beat me up in broad daylight, not when there’d be witnesses. But what scared me was what I knew would come. This redneck was only getting started. I had to curb my inner smart-ass and keep my mouth shut or I’d pay later when the jerk could corner me without witnesses. If I pissed him off now, that’s what would happen for sure. I had to play it right and let him think he’d won this round.

“Oh, but he’s guilty. And we all know it.” Derek got in my face, close enough for me to smell his bad breath and get a zoom on his zits. One on his chin was ripe. The dude seriously needed to harvest.

“If you’re so sure, why are you hassling me?” It was the only comeback I could think of. Lame, I know. I had no business arguing with a guy who could break me like a twig. And I didn’t want to die in the parking lot of Home Depot, especially on an empty stomach.

“You were screwing him, weren’t you?” he said.

With guys like Derek, it always came back to sex. What a tool! He couldn’t see a guy being friends with a girl. Correct that, friendship between a white girl and a Native American boy was off-limits in his pea brain. Guys like Derek shouldn’t be allowed to breed.

When I opened my mouth to speak—completely unsure what I’d say—I saw a police patrol car coming and I breathed a sigh of relief when Derek saw it, too. He backed off and leaned against his truck, crossing his beefy arms and acting all innocent. The jerk!

“Is everything okay here? Derek, is that you?” A deputy I didn’t recognize took in the scene. “What’s going on?”

He was older than Will Tate, the cop who had found me at the cemetery. But this guy saw I had shopping bags in my trunk and that Derek and his buddies had blocked my car.

I glared at Derek and made him sweat more than he already was. I could have narked him out, but I knew it wouldn’t end with me filing a complaint for the sheriff’s office to deal with. Derek was the kind of guy who hated losing, especially to a girl.

“Nothing, Deputy. I was heading home. My mom had me running errands, but she’s expecting me. I gotta bounce.” I avoided looking at Derek when I slammed my trunk. He was a guy who had worked hard on his body, but anything above his shoulders needed a serious “do over.” All I wanted to do was get out in one piece.

“Then you better back up your rig, son. Let the little lady out. You’re in her way.”

The deputy stepped between us and got Derek to back off my bumper. And in my rearview mirror as I drove away, I saw that the deputy wasn’t done with the beef boy squad. He kept Derek talking while I drove off the lot. Hell, they were even laughing like it was a damned frat party. Although the cop had given me a head start, I wasn’t dumb enough to believe it was over between me and Derek and his no-neck buddies. Guys like him never let anything go, but I had better things to do.

And all I had on my mind now was seeing White Bird.

Red Cliffs Hospital

Wearing torn jeans and a striped tee with a long scarf, I slipped through the automatic double doors of the hospital and pulled my cap down. With large dark sunglasses, my face would be hidden. I had no idea if anyone would know me at this place, but keeping a low profile wouldn’t hurt.

I pretended to know where I was going. And when it looked as if no one was watching me, I followed signs down a corridor that led me to a reception area for visitors wanting to see patients held in detention. Picking an inconspicuous place to sit, I flipped through magazines and looked bored while I watched the guard and nurse at a desk located outside a locked door. I sat long enough to look like a permanent fixture. Even my butt had gone numb.

There was enough activity so that my loitering didn’t stand out. I kept my head down and sunglasses on, even inside the hospital. Eventually, no one looked at me twice. People came and went, signing a register on the desk. And they showed ID. I got a feel for what was normal and listened to conversations. I even talked to a girl my age that I had followed into the bathroom. She told me what to expect inside after I said this was my first time visiting my old man. I told her it was his birthday and my mother made me come. She bought my story and helped me figure stuff out.

Eventually I got the guts to make a move when the security guard took a break and left the nurse alone at the desk. I signed in using my name because I knew they would ask for ID. I scribbled my name so bad, I knew they wouldn’t be able to read it later. And on the register, under the column for patient name, I listed someone I had seen on the log from an earlier visitor. I kept my head down and acted like I’d done this a hundred times.

The nurse buzzed me through the locked door. Once I got inside, I followed the signs to a large room where visitors met with patients. I didn’t see White Bird anywhere. I looked up and down the hallways beyond the visitor area, too. Nothing. Beyond the locked door, I had limited places to go that I wouldn’t get noticed. I hadn’t counted on that. I thought that once I got past the closed door, I could roam down the halls looking for White Bird’s room, but that wouldn’t happen now.

My trip to the hospital had been a stupid idea.

I didn’t know what I was doing. And if I got caught now, there’d be no explaining it. I’d get busted and Mom would know exactly what I’d been up to. Shit! I had almost given up until I saw a patient in blue pajamas and a matching robe being wheeled down the corridor by a nurse. I noticed they were heading toward a glass door that led outside. And I had nothing to lose, so I raced toward the door and opened it for the nurse.

“Thanks, honey. You visiting someone?” the black woman in uniform asked. She had a big friendly smile, so I grinned back.

“Yeah, they told me my dad was out here. I came to look.” Most days I barely got two words out of my mouth, but for some reason, lying came easy. It was an aptitude I didn’t want to think about. And talking about my dad—the sperm donor I’d never met—felt strange, too. He was more of a concept than a real person to me.

“Well, if you don’t find him, go back to reception and they’ll help you.” She smiled again and wheeled her patient toward a patio. “Take care now.”

“Thanks.” I waved, even though the nurse had turned her back.

Outside the hospital was a fenced-in area that surrounded a garden with walkways and a series of covered patios for patients to sit. It was beautiful and peaceful. And if someone could forget they were locked up in a boot camp for loonies, surrounded by razor wire and security guards, the grounds weren’t half-bad.

But I hadn’t come for the scenery.

Looking for White Bird, I walked through the gardens, deathly afraid I wouldn’t recognize him even if I found him. I hadn’t seen him in two years. And two years was a lifetime, considering what I remembered of the last time I saw him at the creek on that horrible morning.

A flash of dark memories raced through my mind and made me sick with worry. I pictured him caught somewhere between the innocence of the boy I had first met at the creek—the one with the gentleness to heal a small bird—and the crazed killer capable of murdering a young girl nearly his own age.

Someone like…me.

I had walked the last of the patios and hadn’t seen anyone as young as White Bird. My heart sank as a wave of nausea hit me. When I thought about turning around and heading home, giving up on all I had hoped would happen today, that’s when I saw a guy in a wheelchair under some trees near the high fence. He was alone and his back was to me.

My heart crammed in my throat as I walked toward him. And I had trouble breathing. I desperately wanted it to be him. It had to be him. And when tears filled my eyes, I fought the lump in my throat and clenched my hands into fists.

“Please, God. Let it be White Bird,” I whispered as a tear slid down my cheek.

I wasn’t sure God would listen to me. He never had before.