Trouble no. 2 RavenCroft Collection

Strolling into the Sheriff’s department the next morning, Bastion RavenCroft paused in the entrance. Observing his three sons: Kalturek, Kahner, and Drayke conversing urgently amongst themselves through the two-way glass window of the Sheriff’s office, he scowled. Snatching up a magazine on the light stand next to him he rolled it in his hands.

Ignoring the deputy’s attempts to halt him at the receiving desk, he banged through the swinging door which separated the entryway from the deputy’s cubicles and desks. Walking with purpose toward Kalturek’s office Bastion’s eyes narrowed to slits. He could see Drayke speaking with animation over the file he held in his hand, then unceremoniously dumping it on Kalturek’s desk. Slapping his son’s office door open with the palm of his right hand, Bastion glared at the three men within, equally disgusted with them all.

“Sareena Davis isn’t even her real name.” Kalturek was saying as Bastion entered loudly, catching their attention.

Bastion grunted. “Of course it isn’t,” he said in a matter-of-fact fashion while rounding Kalturek’s desk.

“That’s identity deception that is.” Drayke’s lips thinned as he pointed toward the file in Kalturek’s hands.

“And forgery if she’s used the social to obtain work.” Kalturek agreed grimly.

“Right, because she would have signed an I-9 form upon filling out employment papers,” Kahner said, snapping his fingers toward Drayke.

“We can get a copy of the original on Monday from her employer,” Drayke supplied.

Tightening his grip on the rolled magazine Bastion whacked at Kalturek’s head unexpectedly. Erupting from his chair irately, Kalturek flung his arms out toward his father after rubbing the side of his head.

“What was that for?” he hollered angrily. His gaze shifted toward the two-way window which allowed him to look out toward the cubicles in the outer office. He hoped none of his deputies had seen that. It would have been highly humiliating considering he was forty years old and a county Sheriff.

Bastion shook the rolled magazine before him, pointing it towards Kalturek, then his brothers.

“That… is for not calling me sooner!” Bastion growled darkly, his gaze shifting between his sons. “And as for Ms. Davis’s subterfuge, what do you expect? She was being stalked by someone and was trying to get away from them, I’d wager. Besides all of this is inconsequential in the light of the fact Kalabernus had sex with her while she was drugged!” Bastion vented in disgust, rounding on his sons.

“Yeah, but dad. He didn’t know that and we can use this to protect Kalabernus…” Drayke began, only to be cut off with a swift smack on the head from his brother Kahner. “Hey!” he exclaimed irately.

“Geez, Drayke. You’re the district’s prosecuting attorney now, not a defense lawyer. Don’t be thinking like some thug. And besides, dad’s right.” Kahner said crossly, fully understanding what his father was getting at. “We’d be going after the victim rather than the person we need to be.”

“The stalker,” Kalturek said grimly in agreement. Pulling the file towards him, he set down in his desk chair. Opening it again he sifted through the papers, lifting each one out individually and scanning them quickly.

“That’s right. Now, what is her name really?” Bastion inquired. “Do we know at least that yet?”

“Angela wasn’t terribly forthcoming when I confronted her this morning about the deceased status of the background check on Sareena Davis,” Kalturek explained.

“Small wonder,” Drayke said, rolling his eyes. He dropped lazily down into the chair in front of Kalturek’s desk, propping his dress shoes up on it.

Shooting his brother, a dirty look, Kalturek grabbed the magazine and flung it at his brother’s feet. Drayke chuckled and grinned, crossing one leg over another as he leaned back, uncaring that he was aggravating his brother. Leaping hastily from his chair Kalturek grabbed the file folder and began whacking at his brother’s feet vigorously.

Watching the exchange from a mere few feet away, Kahner began laughing, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Would you two knock it off! And I swear it’s like the three of you never grew up!” Bastion hollered.

“You’re only as old as you feel, dad.” Kahner laughed, watching the scene before him. He had missed his brother’s antics and his father’s ensuing wrath.

“Then I guess that makes me about two hundred years old then!” Bastion shouted. “How did you become Sheriff anyway?” he asked crossly, directing his gaze toward Kalturek.

“I was elected as you well know. Got me a bright smile and winning good looks. You know that.” Kalturek responded with a grin towards his brothers. His dad had always said he wouldn’t amount to anything and had bet him he’d likely become a school janitor cleaning toilets before he’d ever become Sheriff of Loveland County. Thinking to be funny and to spite him, Kalturek had proved him wrong and got himself elected. He’d never forget the day they’d announced the election results. His dad had insisted on a recount of the ballots.

“Enough!” Bastion thundered over their laughter and smirking. “Think we got a pretty serious matter here, don’t you? Deserves a little consideration.”

“Right, no you’re right dad. Sorry.” Kalturek said quickly, having been properly chastised. Regaining his composure, he continued. “I did a little investigating and learned Ms. Davis has a sister by the name of Ariana. I suspect Sareena switched identities.”

“Oh, that’s pretty,” Drayke breathed, mumbling under his breath. “Pretty name for a pretty lady.

Ignoring his brother Kalturek continued. “Now, Ms. Ariana Davis is alive and well and last known to have lived in Dalton, Massachusetts where she’s got numerous complaints about having been stalked by a rather relentless individual. It seems Sareena Davis, on the other hand, actually died at age sixteen from an auto accident.”

Bastion grunted. The air within the room seemed to shift then freeze in place. “Well, that’s not true. It wasn’t an accident,” he said suddenly, “but continue.”

The three men peered toward their father curiously. His unexpected bits of insight, on things he had no way of knowing of, were often disquieting to hear, but they believed him nonetheless. Far too often Bastion was right.

“So, Ariana takes up the name of her deceased sister in the hopes of disappearing,” Kahner spoke, “and leaving her stalker behind.”

“It was a good thought. Could have worked too,” Drayke observed with a heavy sigh.

“Not likely in this case,” Kalturek disagreed.

“Why?” Drayke asked, head turning toward his brother curiously.

Lifting a page from the file he laid it out on his desk for all to see. “That’s Kami Russell, her former roommate,” Kalturek explained. “It would seem Ariana came home to find her stabbed to death on the floor of their living room apartment. They had apparently argued the night before about whether Kami should move out in the interest of safety after receiving a threat against her, but Ariana had been unable to convince her friend otherwise. The stalker left this behind at the scene.” Pulling out another page, he laid it next to the image. “The note left with it said, ‘now you no longer have to worry.’”

Picking it up Kahner pulled the card left on the table the night before from his brother’s desk and compared it to the one photocopied on the paper. Wincing, his gaze shifted to his father as he passed the card and paper over to him to view.

“It would seem our stalker is no longer having warm fuzzy feelings toward our Ms. Davis.” The disquiet in Bastion’s tone was obvious. His gaze roamed from one image to the next. The card left at the scene of Kami Russell’s death was an image of Sareena, or more accurately, Ariana Davis encircled by a red heart shape. But the new card left last night had her X’d out, implying a more dangerous game was being played now.

“Think it changed maybe because she tried disappearing on him?” Drayke asked, having caught sight of the image on the paper.

“Anything is possible when dealing with nut jobs. The fact is, from what I’ve read so far on her file, this all started innocently enough about five years ago,” Kalturek replied.

“That’s when she thinks it started anyway,” Bastion offered. He gazed through the window outside Kalturek’s office into the parking lot next door. His thoughts were jumbled and distracted and the image before him was hazy. The dreamlike vision of a small red crumpled car came into view then just as swiftly disappeared.

“Regardless, of whether it was sooner or not, her first inkling of anything was a note left on her vehicle outside of her work over five years ago. Her statements seem to suggest she thought it simply an admirer and responded as such, believing she suspected who it was. After several weeks of notes back and forth, left via her car windshield, she approached the individual only to learn he hadn’t been pursuing her. That’s when the notes started getting a little scarier. More possessive.”

Bastion turned back toward his son. “Possessive how?”

“’Don’t go to the movie with Derrick. You deserve better,’” Kalturek read aloud. Lifting a stack of papers, he continued to read more missives that had been left for her. “’I told you not to go. Don’t worry I’ll make sure he never asks again.’ This one here says, ‘Kami’s such a whore, don’t let her move in.’ Another one later says, ‘why won’t you listen to me? You shouldn’t have let her move in. Whatever happens now is on you.’” Kalturek continued to read, the messages becoming more and more disturbing in nature. “’I love you, Ariana, I’ll never let you go. Only death shall part us.’”

“Was that the last one before this Kami Russell was killed?” Kalabernus inquired, startling everyone. His massive frame seemed to fill the room upon entering. He’d clearly been listening in for a while and no one present had been the wiser.

“How is it you manage to do that?” Kahner asked, thoroughly perplexed. Kalabernus was the only one at times that he had trouble sensing, or even reading for that matter.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Now, was that the last one before this Kami Russell was murdered?” Kalabernus demanded urgently.

“It would appear so,” Kalturek said quietly, eyeing his brother cautiously. “Why do you ask?”

“Angela still dating Heaton, or are they, as I suspect, on the outs again?” Kalabernus inquired, not answering his brother. Their gazes locked and instantly Kalturek knew what he was thinking.

“You’re thinking that’s why Ariana responded to Angela the way she did last night, aren’t you?” Kahner asked, having read his mind.

“Shoot, I got that without having to read his mind,” Kalturek said wryly. “Drayke?”

Startled Drayke responded. “What?”

“Well, what do you know?”

“Know what?”

“Angela and Heaten, you git! What do you think I’m asking about?” Kalturek demanded.

“For the love! Just because everyone talks around me, doesn’t mean…”

“Drayke!” Bastion bellowed, not caring whether he was embarrassed or not to be privy to the town’s gossip pool as the result of his gift to glean the truth from people.

Huffing indignantly Drayke scowled. “Oh, fine! Angela kicked him to the curb last Friday because he was apparently giving Marcy Lou eyes during the Kid’s dunk-a-thon at the park.”

“Marcy Lou?” Kahner asked, head jerking his direction. Lifting his hands into a circular motion in front of his chest he continued. “Isn’t she the one with the really nice big…”

“Oh give it a rest!” Bastion hollered, becoming cross.

“You need to get Heaton and Angela in here.” Kalabernus insisted urgently, gazing towards his brother sitting behind his desk. “She needs protection, Kalturek, and he’s the best she could possibly get considering he has a black belt.”

“Oh, no! I am the Sheriff of Loveland County, not the county matchmaker,” Kalturek responded firmly.

Growling Kalabernus yanked the picture of Kami Russell from the desk and shoved it in front of his brother’s face. “Picture this as Angela Powers. We’ve known her since kindergarten, Kalturek! Trust me, you don’t want that image in your head anymore then I want Stacey Lynn’s lifeless face in mine.” Shoving violently at the papers on the desk, he then stalked toward the door.

Calling after his son Bastion saw him pause at the doorway. “Son, you need to talk to this woman, Ariana.”

Kalabernus looked back at his father, his haunted eyes were filled with pain and regret. “No, I really don’t.” With a slight shake of his head, he walked away. His vast solid frame could be seen lumbering toward the entryway through the two-way window in the office.

Lifting his phone from the receiver Kalturek cleared his throat then spoke. “Mark. Do me a favor and get Heaton Jones and Angela Powers in here.”

“You want I bring them in together?” Mark responded on the other end, sounding almost anxious, fully aware of the individual’s explosive relationship.

“No. Send a car to pick up Angela. Have Heaton come in on his own.” Hanging up Kalturek shoved back in his chair in aggravation. “Had I known matchmaking was a part of Sheriff’s work I’d have never run for Sheriff!” he declared, tossing the pencil he’d been twiddling in his hand at his desk.

“Serves you right for spiting me and becoming Sheriff,” Bastion said forcefully, unable to completely mask the glimmer in his eye as he spoke. He headed for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kalturek cringed instantly when his father stopped, then turned toward him. His expression was blank, completely void of emotion. Kalturek hated it when he’d get that way. It made him impossible to read.

“Gotta go. Things to do, people to see.”

“People to see? We got a mess here!”

“No, you got a stalker to catch Sheriff RavenCroft.” Bastion reminded, pointing at his son. “He, or she, is your problem as well as the safety of Angela. The situation between Ariana and Kalabernus is between them and me.”

“Wait, why you?” Kahner inquired, appearing confused. “What happened, occurred between them after all, and she is renting the cabin from him.”

“The deed never got put in his name,” Bastion supplied with a decisive shake of his head. He appeared agitated. “I never got around to it.” Shifting his weight to one foot he kicked the door with the toe of his boot. “As the owner of said property, it falls to me to see to her safety. Being as I am aware that harm may have befallen my tenant while residing within her home, I will be speaking with her shortly. As should you be attempting to contact her and bring her in as well, I would imagine.”

Bastion’s gaze shifted to Drayke and Kahner as he moved toward the door. Both attempting the appearance of nonchalance, instead they looked like a couple of idiots awaiting the impending ruckus between Angela and Heaton. He rolled his eyes in disgust. “For heaven sake! Drayke, go back to work and Kahner go home to your pregnant wife and kids! Thirty-eight and forty years old respectively and you all still act like children!”