Chapter Twenty-One
It was time for life to return to normal, time to return to my beloved rut, and past time for me to call Andrea. There were three messages on my voice mail from her -- the last thirty minutes ago, at two thirty -- each sounding more agitated than the previous. The third time her message was brief.
"Damn it, Thea, where the hell are you?"
Swearing from Andrea -- a sure sign of near hysterics. I called her.
"Where the hell have you been? Why didn't you call me?"
"I'm sorry --"
"I've been worried sick about you!"
"I'm sorry, I --"
"Are you all right? You aren't in the hospital, are you?"
"No, I'm fine, I --"
"Well, for the love of --"
"Andrea." Once able to insert a complete sentence, I told her about the results of our trip to the Broken Axle and my visit to the sheriff's office.
"Okay. I forgive you. You've been busy. But I'm telling you, Thea, I was ready to call the cops."
"I'm hoping they've got their hands full with Jonathan right now."
"Until you know he's in custody, you be careful. Understand?"
"Yes, mother."
Thus humored, she permitted me to get back to work, since I knew, even if Andrea didn't, that there was nothing more to worry about.
It was close to six when I wrapped up my accounting work. If I hurried, there'd be enough daylight left for me to ride my horse. Uncle Henry had lights for his arena, but they were expensive to run. I didn't like to use them if I could avoid it. I changed my clothes, put on my old sneakers, and grabbed my riding boots to change into later.
I opened the front door and the piece of newsprint taped to it flapped in my face. I snatched it off the door and read it. "So sad, too bad, BC."
My riding boots and purse fell from my hand as a sickening jolt of realization smacked me full in the gut. It was Greg, not Sarah, who'd left the notes. And he'd put this on my door while I worked in my office.
But that wasn't the worst of it.
Because of me, Thurman was going after the wrong man.
Frantic, I looked up and down my street. Nothing. Gone. But when? How long ago?
I ran, dodging through the hedge, to my neighbor's house and pounded on the door. Be home, please be home. I needed to know when he'd been here. A long moment passed and I raised my fist to knock again, but I heard footsteps and Mrs. Baron opened the door.
"Hello, Thea. Goodness, what's wrong, dear?"
"You didn't happen to see someone at my house in the last little while, did you?" Please, please, let this one-woman block-watch-program have seen something, I prayed to all available gods.
"I'm sorry, dear, but I've been watching TV. Oprah's on, and she's doing one of those makeover programs. I hate to miss her show."
I shrugged off her next half dozen questions, trying not to appear anxious, then jogged back toward my house. I pushed through the hedge, and stopped. One of my riding boots lay in the middle of my walk. I hadn't left it there. I picked it up and raised my eyes to my porch. The front door stood opened. I knew I'd shut it.
I approached the house, eased up the three steps to the porch, and listened. Nothing. From where I stood I could look through the living room and down the hallway that led to my bedroom. My other riding boot stood in the middle of the hallway near my bedroom door. God damn it. The son-of-a-bitch was in my house. I ran through the door, down the hall, snagged my other boot, and skidded into my bedroom, boot raised above my head, ready to beat him senseless with it.
Empty.
Except for the note on my pillow. "You're going to be too late," was handwritten on a plain piece of paper.
The front door slammed. I spun and dashed into the hall.
Again, no one.
Nothing but the feel of cold air coming from the back of the house. I ran to the kitchen. The back door stood open. I was the only one in the room. The wind must have blown the front door shut when he went out the back.
Or he could still be in the house.
I closed and locked the kitchen door, then pulled a carving knife out of the knife storage block by the sink and eased toward the pantry.
No one.
I crept silently to my bathroom. That, too, was vacant. I checked under my bed, in my closet, my office. I rushed through the house, abandoning stealth.
I was alone.
Back in the kitchen I put the knife away, but my hand trembled so much I had trouble sliding it into its proper slot.
Damn him. What was he playing at? Then I knew -- Blackie! I dashed to the phone and dialed Uncle Henry's number. It rang once. "Pick up, come on," I pleaded. It rang again. "Come on, come on, pick up." It rang four more times. "Damn. Damn. Where are you?"
Okay, Thea, now think, think. It's Friday. What goes on Friday afternoons?
"Aunt Vi's hair appointment, and …." I looked at the clock.
Uncle Henry has a lesson scheduled right now. That's why no one is answering the phone.
Okay, made sense. And my brain was working instead of reacting. I grabbed my cell phone, purse, and keys, locked the front door and headed to my car. Two steps off my porch, the obvious hit me.
Delores.
I flipped my phone open and punched Maria's number, praying someone was home. Maria answered. Silently I thanked her Dios.
"Maria, it's Thea. Do you know if Delores is back yet?"
"I do not see her car," she said. I could hear her walking around, probably looking out the windows.
"Listen, this is important. What exactly did she say to you this morning?"
"She said she was going to look at a horse a man was selling and should be back before too long."
I bit my lip and tried another tactic.
"Did she say she was going to see a man about a horse?" I held my breath.
"Yes, yes, that is exactly her words. How do you know?"
I flew to my car, phone pressed to my ear. "It's an expression. It doesn't have anything to do with horses." Although in this case it was close. "I'm pretty sure I know where Delores is. I'm going to get her."
I disconnected and punched the speed dial for Juliet's cell phone while I scrambled into the driver's seat and jammed the key into the ignition. Relief. The engine turned over on the first try. Things were going my way. I shoved the car into gear and peeled away from the curb. Juliet wasn't answering her phone. Damn. I need her to go to the farm to check on Uncle Henry and Blackie.
In quick succession I tried the Copper Creek office and her apartment, met with identical results, and ran a red light. I tried Eric. No answer. Where the hell was everyone? Calm down. It's Detective Thurman you need. Frantically, I punched his number while swerving through traffic. I hit the send key and my battery went dead.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" I jammed it into my purse.
There was no time to drive all the way to his office. I couldn't give Greg that much of a head start when Delores's life was on the line.
Greg's last note taunted, "Too late," "too late." My foot pressed into the accelerator.
I left forty-five behind in a twenty-five zone and hoped a cop would see me. No luck. Where were the speed traps when you wanted them?
It was after six o'clock. What kind of shape would Delores be in if she hadn't taken her meds on time or eaten a regular meal? That would have been the good news. Greg had killed Valerie. What would he do to Delores? No, stop thinking like that.
A pickup truck obeying the speed limit slowed me to a crawl. I pounded the steering wheel and honked repeatedly. He tapped his brakes at me.
"Move, dammit!" Use the pedal on the right!"
I passed him on a curve on a double yellow line and got a severe horn blasting for my heroics.
"Screw you," I muttered to my rear-view mirror, leaving him in a cloud of exhaust.
Once on Carpenter Road, I found an overgrown lane just past Valerie's property. I hoped it wasn't someone's private drive. Still, I'd rather risk that than pull up
to the house and announce my presence to Greg. I wedged my car into the bushes then, not bothering to conceal myself, I ran as best I could up the long, steep driveway to the estate. I halted when I reached the top of the hill and bent double, my hands on my knees, sucking air into my lungs. The middle of the driveway was not a good place to recover from the dash. A small cedar tree stood a short distance to my left. I darted to it, and dropped into a crouch, hiding myself in its wide, aromatic branches.
As I caught my breath and the burning left my calves and thighs, I peered through the damp foliage. Before me lay an empty expanse of lawn, dotted with a few specimen plants and evergreens. The driveway angled to my right before it divided, one branch curving to the house, the other skirting around back to the barn.
The only car I could see from my hiding place was Valerie's BMW, and it hadn't moved since last weekend. I didn't see Greg's car or Delores's, but that didn't mean anything. She'd probably parked behind the house and gone to the kitchen door. Greg's car might be in the garage on the far side of the house.
Shouldn't you check for vehicles first before you look for Delores?
But what if he's gotten rid of her car? The absence of her car wouldn't mean anything.
Hey, the house is dark. It doesn't look like he's here.
Could I be so lucky?
Maybe. But there was no way to know without ringing the doorbell, so I waited and watched and listened, trying to pick out any sound beyond the tree frog cacophony, any movement through the darkened windows.
You should have been planning on the way over instead of driving like a mad woman. How are you going to find Delores? Come on, think.
Right. A systematic search was called for -- systematic but stealthy.
And for God's sake be smart. Don't do anything to draw Greg's attention -- if he's here.
The barn would be the quickest to search and my best bet for avoiding Greg. How was I going to cross that huge lawn without being seen?
Impatience and dread plucked at me, demanding a decision. I couldn't hesitate any longer so, good plan or not, I chose to circle to my left and come at the barn from the route that afforded the most opportunity for cover. I pulled off my light colored jacket and stashed it beneath the wet branches. My dark cotton shirt soaked up the dampness as I brushed against the foliage. I shivered. The cold went right through me.
I kept low and snuck from shrub to shrub, watching the house for any sign of Greg, until an open portion of the lawn was my remaining obstacle. Then I swallowed my fear, broke from my cover, and pelted toward the house. I reached the foundation plantings and fell to my knees, panting. As my breath steadied, I heard the soft sound of hurried footsteps on the grass. They were coming toward me. Terrified, I dove behind a bush and fell headlong into a window well. Instinct caused me to grab at anything within reach to arrest my descent, but I landed in a heap among the wet, rotting leaves anyway. Holding my breath and willing my heart to stop pounding so hard, I listened from my uncomfortable, contorted position.
Silence.
Except for … tapping. What of? A faucet dripping into a sink?
I stopped breathing again.
The tapping didn't stop, but became louder and more insistent. I turned my head toward the basement window. A face, in deep shadow, peered at me through the dirty glass. Hair stuck out in all directions and the mouth opened and closed like a puppet. One hand made weird gestures. I drew a sharp breath, but before I could scream recognition hit me full force. It was Delores.
My exhale would have been a sob of relief, but the decomposing leaves I'd stirred up at the bottom of the window well provoked a sneeze. Delores had her finger to her lips. Yeah, yeah, quiet, I got that. The words she mouthed, however, were incomprehensible. I shook my head and she closed her eyes with an expression of labored patience and tried again, slower. This time I understood. Greg had been there, but she thought he wasn't there now. If she was right, he would come back soon. Considering I'd landed in the window well looking for a place to hide from pursing footsteps, chances were good he'd returned. I had to hurry and be very cautious.
Then she added something more. Her mouth seemed to form Sarah's name. Sarah was there, too? That couldn't be right. I shot her a quizzical look then sneezed again. She rolled her eyes. What she said next I understood: Be careful. Be quiet.
I heaved myself out of the well and crawled under the bushes, listening. Soft footsteps came rapidly toward me and I froze like a rabbit.
"Thea? Thea? I know you're here somewhere. It's me, Juliet." She whispered so loudly, she might as well have stood in the middle of the driveway with a bullhorn. I edged out of my hiding place, startling her.
"Oh, Thea, thank God!"
"Shh," I hissed and grabbed her arm, pulling her down next to me. "How did you know I was here?"
"I followed you." She picked dead leaves out of my hair. "Eww."
"What? Why?"
"I was worried about Delores and came to look for you." She brushed at my shoulder, her nose wrinkled in distaste.
"Stop that." I pushed her hand away.
"When I went to your house and you weren't home I thought you might be at the farm, so I went out that way and caught sight of you careening down the road. When you didn't turn to go to the farm I followed. I left my motorcycle by your car. I figured if you were being cautious I should be, too."
I had to give her credit for clear thinking. "Delores is here," I whispered.
"You found her!" She clapped her hands and bounced.
"Shhh!"
"How did you know?" She hugged me, then turned me loose, her nose wrinkled again.
"I'll explain later." Or not at all, to avoid looking like an idiot. "Do you have your cell phone?"
"No. It's at home, charging."
"Damn." I took a breath. "Okay, look, we have to hurry. Greg may be back soon."
"Greg?" She blinked in confusion, then her eyes widened. "Shit. You mean he's the one who killed Valerie?"
I nodded.
"Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"Maria's harangue interrupted me." Fortunately.
"Why's Delores here?"
"I don't know. I'm guessing she came to talk to Greg. Maybe he called her. We'll ask her about it later. Right now we've got to get her out of here."
We ran to the back door of the house and cautiously tried the knob. Locked. We tried the front. Locked as well. Remembering the keys I'd found, I sprinted to the outbuilding with Juliet close behind. The key ring was back on its nail, but the only key remaining was to the tractor. In frustration, we went back to the window well and Delores.
"Does this window open?" I mouthed to her.
She looked at the frame and nodded. The latch was inside at the bottom of the small window, but she had difficulty with it, and used only her right hand. After a moment she disappeared from view. Sarah took her place. Juliet and I exchanged stunned looks
Sarah glanced at us before setting to work on the latch. If the look on her face was any indication, she was straining hard. She stopped and looked over her shoulder then moved aside. Delores replaced her and grabbed the latch with her right hand and yanked. Her expression tightened as if she was in pain, but even so she managed what Sarah could not. With a screech of protest, the window opened. We all sighed with relief, but it was short lived.
"Take our hands, Delores. We'll pull you up," Juliet said.
"Can't," she panted, the pain obvious in her voice. "I think the bastard's broken my arm. It's swollen and hurts like hell when I try to move it."
"I can come up," Sarah said.
"Like hell you will," Delores snapped at her. Sarah shrunk back. "She'll run right to Greg."
"No! No, I won't!"
Delores rolled her eyes. "I've been listening to her bleat all afternoon. If it weren't for this arm she'd be trussed up and gagged."
"But he loves me," Sarah wailed and held up her left hand. Aha! That's where the other diamond ring ended up. "He asked me to ma
rry him last night at the hospital. I snuck out and came here like he told me to. He loves me!"
"Don't even bother," Delores said to us. "She doesn't understand being tossed down here with me is not a sign of love."
"He does too love me," she said. "He wanted me to keep an eye on you while he was gone."
"You're dumber than a box of rocks," Delores said.
"He told me Valerie forced him into proposing to her and the whole other thing was her idea, too." Sarah directed her last comment to me, and I had no idea what she was talking about.
"We're wasting time," Delores said. "We need to get out of here."
Juliet grabbed my arm. "Why don't I go down through the window and help lift her through? After all, I'm taller than you. And stronger."
"Okay." I didn't think it was such a hot idea. We could hurt Delores more in the process, but there seemed no other way. Besides, Juliet was more than capable of trussing up Sarah, if need be.
I backed out of the bushes to give Juliet room to maneuver. She grunted as she squeezed through the awkward opening.
So intent was I on Juliet's efforts that I didn't notice the approaching footsteps. Before I had time to react a large hand clamped over my mouth and nose. A metallic click sounded dangerously close to my ear as I was dragged away from my sister and friend. Juliet's voice sounded a million miles away.
"Okay, I made it. Thea? Thea?"