Page 27 of Property of Bull
“Okay, Miss Tucker, I’d like you to go over there with Deputy Deming and give her your statement. Lehmann, you’ll take Stryker’s statement. My body cam recorded our earlier call, but you might think of something you didn’t think mattered. Try to remember everything you touched, maybe on other visits to the house.” The sheriff is meticulous with his instructions.
“George wasn’t home yet when I picked Margo up, but Han was out here chopping wood,” Bull says, and it occurs to that he technically broke into the house yesterday.
“He came to see me the other day,” I blurt out, drawing looks from everyone.
“I was mainly up in her room,” Bull confirms, keeping his eyes on my face as he makes it sound like we’ve been screwing around.
“The sun was close to setting when we left earlier,” I say, looking back over my shoulder, looking to see that lights are shining from each window. “Granddad would have turned all the lights on as it got dark, but they were off when we got here. It was just the TV that was on.”
“We’ll print all the switches, don’t you worry.”
I suddenly remember his name is Clark as I nod my head and continue on to where Deming wants to interview me.
Once she’s finished, I cross back over to Bull and tilt my head at him. “Where would you put this on a scale of first dates?”
“All over the fucking board,” he chuckles, pulling me into his arms. “Good news, bad news. We have permission to leave, but you can’t take anything from the house for a few days. So in addition to those bras I promised you, we’ll pick up a few changes of clothes tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to,” I start until he quickly cuts me off. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”
“I’m not,” he says so smoothly, I wonder if it’s a line. “Come on, I gotta get some sleep.”
Chapter 7
Margo
Bull falls asleep seconds after his head hits the pillow and barely grunts when I slip from the bed and head out to the living room. I sink into a well-worn but comfortable couch, pulling the blanket from the back over my legs. There was no chance of Bull’s pants fitting me, so I’m only wearing one of his shirts.
I start scrolling through news articles on my phone, but any and all mention of David’s disappearance has seemingly faded. The only exception being on his family’s social media accounts.
My ex’s oldest brother was a cop in the area we lived in and was one of the first responders to the scene on the night David broke my arm and tried putting my head through a wall. Quickly understanding the situation, he left before being asked to.
I respected him for that, in the moment. It was in the weeks following, that I didn’t appreciate the frequency with which he seemed to be parked between my job at the radio station and my house on such a regular basis. Especially since I worked nights, and the roads were mostly empty.
Restraining orders can only do so much, and mine was useless the morning I woke up to a clattering noise downstairs. With less than two hours of sleep, the sound of David breaking into my house was intermingled with my dream, but I darted out of bed regardless.
Hiding in the bathroom across the hall, I waited until David entered my bedroom before I tip toed downstairs as fast as I could, cursing myself for not taking the time to open the gun safe in my closet. I was nearly in the garage before he caught up to me, drunk, angry, and cursing me out for ruining his life.
I kept moving, hitting the garage opener with the thought of getting to the neighbor’s house; except he hit the button seconds before getting a hold of my ponytail. Flailing backward, my good arm managed to grab a hammer off one of the built-in shelves and I swung it behind me without looking.
Straight into his temple as luck would have it.
Still scared shitless after landing on him, I raised it up and struck him another time.
Bashing in his head in nearly the same manner that I found Granddad tonight.
I sat in the garage, trying to figure out what to do for nearly an hour before the garage door opened. Dad had turned into a wanderer with short trips during my senior year of high school, but this past summer, he had set out to the furthest reaches of Alaska. It was days after David’s initial attack that I was able to reach my father, and now he was finally home.
There’s no amount of time that will ever erase the memory I have of Dad looking between me and the body of my ex, with a hammer still embedded in David’s skull.
He simply got out of his RV, walked toward me and reached up to hit the button for the garage door above where I was sitting on the two steps that led into the house. Pulling me up and into his arms for long moments, he finally took a deep breath and looked me in the eye.
“Good job, honey. I got it from here.”
While I was terrified of my dad being complicit, it turned out he knew much more about David’s family than I did; which almost sent me into a tailspin.
Once David’s family reported him missing, we knew I had to make myself scarce, so I gave notice at the radio station, telling them I was afraid that he might be coming after me. Afterall,his car was found abandoned in a shopping center not far from where I lived.
We locked up Dad’s house and he set out for Florida as I bee-lined it for South Dakota, staying off the radar the best I could. Granddad knew I was going through a hard time and being recently widowed was happy for the company.
