After the deputy took his time in scrutinizing the three women, he shook his head in obvious disapproval. “I don’t see where any crime has been committed here.” Then he ambled over to Ricky. “Ms. Lane, I suggest you stay away from this barn. As I recall, you’re a suspect in Mr. Spears’ death.”
Ricky visibly paled and shrank against the car. Rhetta stepped between them.
“Officer, Ms. Lane is not under arrest. None of us is. I suggest that you are threatening Ms. Lane, and maybe you ought to stop. Go after the real killer, Adele Griffith.” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. She could imagine how she must look—filthy with bits and pieces of dried hay sticking out from her hair.
The deputy shook his head. “Arrest Mrs. Griffith? That’s a leap. I don’t have a warrant for her. All I have is the word of three, shall I say, highly emotional women.”
Rhetta said, “I’m reporting your attitude to your boss.”
Ricky said nothing.
“Oinker,” Mylene said.
With that, the deputy glared at them, snapped his notepad closed, tucked it into his shirt pocket. He nodded toward his partner in a signal to leave. They touched the brim of their hats as a goodbye gesture and ambled to their patrol car.
As soon as they both reached their car, Rhetta asked Ricky, “Can I have my phone back?” Ricky reached into her jeans pocket and handed it over. Almost no battery power remained. A few more minutes of a phone call and a red line would replace the green and she would be out of power. Her charger was still at home in her Trailblazer.
“Ricky, please go home and call Randolph. Tell him what’s going on.” Ricky nodded and hopped over to her car. The Trans Am rumbled to life. Ricky punched the accelerator. She shifted, then zigzagged down the driveway as the muscle car sought purchase on the gravel. The throaty LT1 resonated as Ricky defied the speed limit down the county road.
Rhetta turned to Mylene, patting the Viper’s hood. “How fast can this baby get us to Bollinger County?”
Chapter 61
Rhetta collapsed into the passenger seat as Mylene ran to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel, and was still buckling in when Mylene took off. A quick glance assured her that Mylene had fastened her seat belt. Another glance, this time at her cell phone confirmed that her battery was dead.
“Do you have a cell phone?” she asked Mylene.
Mylene shook her head. “I lost it sometime today, probably at the barn.”
“Then I sure hope Ricky called Randolph, or we may be out there by ourselves.” At Mylene’s questioning look, Rhetta explained. “Randolph is my husband, and if Ricky called him, he’ll be burning rubber to get here, and will call the sheriff.” Rhetta massaged her side, grateful that the pain was subsiding. Maybe she didn’t break a rib after all.
Mylene turned to Rhetta when then hit the highway and the Viper was throttling toward Bollinger County. “What does your husband think of you chasing all over creation after bad guys?”
Rhetta waited to answer until Mylene stopped skidding along the gravel. She didn’t want to be the reason Mylene would slide off the road. She needn’t have worried. Mylene handled the Viper perfectly. “Let’s just say that if Adele doesn’t kill me, Randolph might.”
Mylene shot her a sideways glance. “I owe you for what you did back there at the barn. I truly thought Adele would shoot me. She’s hated me all my life, as she hated Jeremy. Actually, as it turned out, she hated Malcom, too.” Mylene downshifted as she came to the four-way at Highways 51 and 34 in Marble Hill, rolled through the stop and zoomed left in front of a log truck lumbering across the intersection. Then she scorched rubber and headed west. Rhetta squeezed her eyes closed and prayed. By the time she opened them, Mylene was sailing past Merc’s and across the bridge out of town.
Mylene went on with the conversation as though she hadn’t just nearly killed them both. “She’s always been nuts. She’d go berserk if I did the least little thing and would take a rubber hose and beat me. She’d get a crazy look in her eye and tell me she’d kill me if I told my father. Then she’d laugh and beat me some more.” She floored the Viper out of town toward the cabin.
“I loved my father, even though the world saw him as a scoundrel,” Mylene said. “I was his pal and his daughter. He taught me to smoke and drink at a very early age. He never was allowed to be a father to Jeremy, and frankly, didn’t like him all that well, even though he was in love with his mother.” Mylene laughed. “We should plaster all our pictures in the dictionary under the word ‘dysfunctional.’”
“I already have Anjanette Spears there in my dictionary, so I could make room for the rest of you.” Rhetta made the mistake of pulling the visor down to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun and ended up catching her reflection in the visor mirror. She’d seen a horror movie with a zombie that looked better than she did. “Adele sure had everyone fooled,” Rhetta said, tucking the visor back up. She couldn’t stand looking at herself. “I thought she was this frail old lady. She’s about as frail as a rattlesnake and twice as deadly.” Rhetta felt a deep sadness for Mylene not experiencing the love from a mother to a daughter and knowing Adele passed Mylene off as her natural child. Rhetta shook her head. Tears welled for a moment as she remembered her own mother. She knew absolutely that her mother had loved her beyond anything else in the world. A hollow ache caught her heart as she remembered her mother’s painful death.
“Dang allergies,” She muttered a she swiped the back of her hand across her cheek.
Mylene swerved left again and barreled up a familiar gravel road. Rhetta sat up and peered ahead through the cloud of gravel dust, searching for Adele’s truck. At the top of the hill they would make a right turn into the cabin’s driveway and be a big red target for Adele’s high-powered rifle
“Let’s stop here and walk the rest of the way,” Rhetta suggested. “We don’t want Adele shooting at us.”
Mylene veered over into a turnout from a private drive and killed the engine. “You’re right, of course,” she said, shrugging out of her seat belt and shoulder strap. “You should wait here, Rhetta.” She reached across Rhetta to the glove box and withdrew a .38 pistol. That was indeed the gun Rhetta had seen her carry when she was out here before.
“Not on your life, sister. I didn’t ride along just to keep you company. Let’s go.” Rhetta pushed open the door and hoped that Mylene didn’t see her wince. She realized that she felt a lot better. Probably from adrenaline kicking in. Her heart began hammering the instant she slammed the door. Her in-her-head voice asked her if she was crazy. Yes. To Mylene, she said, “I sure don’t see any law here.” They picked their way slowly toward the cabin’s driveway. The roadside was uneven, the loose gravel making Rhetta’s sandals worthless as protection. She stubbed her toe on a rock the size of a cantaloupe. “Ow.” Mylene ignored her discomfort.
“I think she’ll head for the shed and that truck right away,” Mylene said, checking her weapon.
“If she’s here, where’s her ride?” Rhetta asked, taking in the empty yard and driveway.
“Last time she parked at the neighbor’s empty place just behind here. She only has to walk about thirty yards to get to the shed.” Mylene indicated the shed where Rhetta and Ricky had been shot at. “Or, if she’s really sneaky, she’s upstairs and going to shoot at us through the window. Also like she did last time.”
“So that was you I saw walking around the shed carrying a .38? I knew it wasn’t a man by the size of the footprints.” She leaned placed one of her feet against the side of Mylene’s foot. “Your feet aren’t any bigger than mine.”
Mylene nodded. “Adele was upstairs when she shot at the two of you. When I heard the shot I followed her. I figured there was something out here that she wanted to get rid of. It has to be the truck.”
Rhetta shuddered. “Randolph said he thought the shot came from above our heads and he was right. Lucky for us, she missed.”
“Probably because she’s losing som
e of her eyesight and is too proud to wear glasses, the old witch.” Reaching one of the rock pillars at the entrance, Mylene crouched low, and motioned for Rhetta to do the same.
“Let’s try to get to the garage and wait there,” Mylene said. “She’ll come, because she has to destroy the truck. It’s evidence.” Crouching, Mylene scrabbled her way to the shed. Rhetta followed. At the shed, Rhetta was breathing hard. She paused, forcing herself to take deep breaths. She wasn’t out of shape, so the hard breathing had to be due to pure, unadulterated fear.
Mylene stood against the windowless end of the shed and motioned Rhetta to stay behind her. They eased along the wall, rounded the corner and saw the big sliding door. The door stood open a couple of feet. Rhetta was sure they had closed it up when they’d left. Her heart pounded. “I think she’s here,” she whispered. Before Mylene could answer, the smell of gasoline filled Rhetta’s nostrils. Mylene must have noticed it, too. She bolted forward, shouting, “That bitch!” And disappeared inside the barn. Seconds later, an explosion slammed Rhetta to the ground. Flames burst through the door.
Momentarily dazed, Rhetta slowly pulled herself up. When she realized what happened, she forced herself to sprint toward the door, shouting Mylene’s name. As she reached it, a small figure emerged, screaming for help. Rhetta grabbed her, and pulled her to the ground where she rolled her in the dirt. She recognized who she’d grasped. Adele had scorched her shirt and singed her hair and eyebrows, but seemed otherwise unhurt. Rhetta pulled the old woman to her feet and screamed. “Where’s Mylene?’ She shook the old lady when she didn’t answer. Sobbing hysterically, the woman pointed to the barn. Rhetta had no sympathy for the murderous old bat. She shoved her aside roughly, took a deep breath, and ran inside the burning shed.
Where was Mylene?
Chapter 62
A putrid black smoke filled the metal building, blinding Rhetta, and making her choke. Each cough produced a spasm of pain from her side, but she pushed forward, searching for Mylene. The old truck they needed for evidence was nothing but a charred hulk, and several fires burned the stacks of parts and rags scattered throughout the shed. Adele had set the truck on fire. The fumes and gasoline in containers in the shed had exploded, sending fuel and debris flying.
“Mylene,” Rhetta gasped. “Where are you?” She choked and coughed again. She tried covering her mouth with her hands, but it wasn’t enough to keep the smoke from her nostrils. She fought for breath. Her head began to spin and she went down on her knees. She knew she was running out of oxygen. She’d have to leave or die inside with Mylene. When she crouched closer to the floor, she found a small pocket of less smoky air. Her eyes stung, sending tears cascading down her face. She sucked air and inched toward the sliver of light she prayed was the door.
Her head began clearing, so she stood. Desperately scanning around the shed one more time, she spotted Mylene, crumpled on the floor near the front of the truck, about ten feet farther in. Rhetta dropped to her knees again, then to the floor where she rolled over and over toward Mylene. When she was next to her, she pulled herself to her knees and knelt over her, shouting at her. “Mylene, wake up! Mylene, we have to get out!” She shook her, but still Mylene didn’t respond. Rhetta put her ear to her chest. Mylene breathed shallowly. Rhetta pulled her up to a sitting position, then faced her, and placed her unmoving arms over her own shoulders. With all the strength she had left, Rhetta grasped Mylene under her armpits and heaved her to her feet. When she did, Mylene moaned. She’s still alive. I’ve got to get us out. “Come on, Mylene, help me,” Rhetta urged as she dragged her toward the door. Rhetta coughed and gasped for a breath. Her head spun again. Mylene was too heavy. She was afraid she couldn’t carry her all the way. Rhetta stopped, her heart pounding wildly, her head wringing wet with sweat and her eyes full of smoke and tears. She willed herself to keep dragging Mylene toward the door, toward the air, toward life.
Ten more feet to the door, then eight, then five. Then she was at the door. She propped Mylene against the wall and shoved the sliding door as hard as she could. Fresh air from outside rushed in. Gulping air into her scorched lungs, Rhetta grabbed her and toppled outside on to the ground. She lay gasping, sucking as much of the fresh air that she could. Gradually her head cleared. She leaned over and raised Mylene’s head and ordered her to breathe. “Breathe, Mylene. You need oxygen. Breathe!” Mylene’s chest heaved and she took a tiny breath. She followed it with a few more shallow breaths until her eyes fluttered open. Then they closed again, but she kept breathing.
The shed was in blazes, orange and yellow spires jutting through the tin roof. Heat rolled out through the door along with more flames. “We’ve got to get away from the shed. It may explode,” Rhetta said, still panting. She struggled first to her knees, then finally stood and pulled Mylene to her feet. Grasping Mylene around her waist, she tugged until she managed to drag a stumbling Mylene away from the burning shed. Straining to fill their lungs with air, they collapsed on the grass thirty feet from the inferno.
“We’re safe, now.” Rhetta said, and lay back against a hard maple.
“Are you sure about that?” It was Adele. Rhetta stared up at the business end of a rifle for the second time that day.
Chapter 63
Although Rhetta knew it was Adele, the woman could have been mistaken for the other zombie in the movie Rhetta had seen. Rhetta’s initial appraisal of the woman’s injuries was way off the mark. Adele’s face was blackened with soot, her shirt was covered with scorch marks and burn holes ringed in black. Her arms were red and oozing from the burns. What was left of her grey hair was singed and stuck out at every imaginable angle from a tiny head, and her eyebrows were completely gone.
Yet she stood defiantly in front of them, waving the rifle, as though in no pain at all. A wicked grin split her blackened lips.
That must hurt. Rhetta wondered how this old lady could have such a high pain threshold. Mylene ignored the woman and lay on her back, still breathing in shallow gasps. Rhetta leaned against the tree and held her hands up, palms out. “Adele, you’re finished. The sheriff’s department is on its way here with the fire department.” God, I hope that’s true! “Unless you get out of here this instant, they’re going to catch you and arrest you.”
“I’m going to tell them you two were trespassing and set my shed on fire, and I caught you red-handed. You tried to run away, so I shot you. That’s what I’m going to tell them.” Adele’s voice was high pitched and her head bobbed furiously as though convincing herself.
“Should we stand up and start running so you can take us down, to make your story work?” Rhetta heaved to her feet. “Otherwise, how are you going to explain shooting us under the tree, here?” Rhetta turned toward the tree, and Mylene, still on the ground. “Or do you plan on dragging our bodies and positioning them. You could always hook up a chain to your truck and drag us. Honestly, Adele, don’t you think the cops would figure that out? And really, you don’t have time for all of that.” She turned back and threw her hands up. “So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to find a more comfortable spot and try to get my breath. I suggest you hit the road while you still can.” Rhetta turned, pretending to search for a spot to lie down.
Her stomach spasmed. She was going to puke. She never thought about how people’s knees could knock together before now, but she was learning firsthand how that phenomenon feels. Her heart was running the Kentucky Derby. Absurdly, she realized her side didn’t hurt any more.
In spite of her quaking, she formed a plan. While talking to Adele, she’d spotted a fallen limb roughly the diameter of a ball bat, about four feet in length. It nearly touched her foot. If she could distract Adele even for an instant, she’d grab the stick and try to smack her head. She only had one chance. If she missed, Adele would shoot. Adele meant to shoot anyway, so anything was worth a try.
Rhetta calculated that Adele was at least six feet away, which meant that she’d have to grab the stick and lunge forward in order to
connect with her. Precious seconds could be lost. Enough time for Adele to turn the gun and fire. Rhetta swallowed down the bile, praying she wouldn’t throw up.
She leaned over Mylene and inventoried her condition. She’d need to get her to a hospital soon. Her breathing was still shallow, her responses nil.
Rhetta straightened and glanced toward the road. Did she see a cloud of dust? Maybe two or three? Was help coming? Would they get there on time?
“Too late, Adele,” Rhetta pointed to the road and the dust clouds. “The cops are on their way.”
With a stricken look, Adele turned sideways. That was the distraction Rhetta had prayed for. She snatched the deadfall limb and surged toward Adele, screaming at the top of her scorched lungs, “You miserable hag!” She swung at her head as hard as Babe Ruth had ever swung a bat. She miscalculated and connected with Adele’s upper arm, instead—her scorched upper arm. Adele howled in pain and grabbed her arm, dropping the rifle. Rhetta pounced on it and swung the business end around towards Adele. “Enough of this, you old bat. Get over there and sit down and shut up!” She ordered Adele to the driveway and forced her to sit on the hard gravel. “There, that ought to suit you.”
Three clouds of dust materialized in the driveway and morphed into a sheriff’s car, a fire truck and Randolph’s truck. The fire truck roared past them and on down to the burning shed. The sheriff’s deputy stopped short of running over Adele. Rhetta had no idea who’d called the cops, but she was overwhelmingly grateful that they, and her husband, had arrived in time.
Randolph’s truck squealed to a stop behind the patrol car. He threw his door open and rushed to his wife.
Rhetta collapsed in his arms.
Chapter 64
Four Weeks Later
“Are you sure Mylene is coming from Paducah for this shindig?” Randolph asked as he padded into the kitchen. He poured them each a cup of coffee and joined his wife on the newly cleaned and spruced-up patio. They’d both enjoyed an exhilarating morning run, followed by a spoil-your-wife breakfast that Randolph had prepared. She’d snarfed down the blueberry pancakes without a single thought about any calorie budget.