Chapter Thirty-Six
As soon as I got out of the hotel parking lot I smashed down on the accelerator. "Gramma Turner found a note that was like the one Mom found on her car the day of the murder," I told Charli. "It said, 'The ref is dead. Who killed him? Fred. Morley park. Monday night. Ten P.M.'"
I looked at my watch. "It's nine fifty-five now."
"Maybe it was a joke. Maybe whoever wrote it lost it before they could give it to the person they intended it for. Maybe we should go back to the party. We should call the police. Where’s your phone?" Charli tried to argue.
"Nessa took it, remember. Where’s yours?”
“John has it. In his pocket. In case the sitter called. We figured he’d feel it vibrate.
“Okay. So, we need to go to the park and check it out. I have a bad feeling about this." I looked over at Charli.
"I have a bad feeling, too. That's why we should stop somewhere and call the police," Charli kept arguing.
"We will. We'll just go to the park, see if anyone is there, and then we'll go call the police."
It took six minutes to get to the parking lot of the sewing factory that sits on the other side of the railroad tracks from the park. I stopped the car. We climbed out and crossed over to the other side of the tracks. There were two cars in the park's lot. Fred Thompson's and a dark colored pick-up truck. Vanessa?
"Is that John's truck?" I asked.
"I don't know. I can't tell from here. You don't think it's Vanessa, do you?"
"I don't know. I just don't know."
We snuck up the road to get a closer look. It was too dark. The park didn't have much in the way of night lighting yet. Like the restrooms, they were scheduled to be put in later. The only light came from a small pole next to the basketball court.
"Look. Two people are back by the portable toilets," Charli said. "I'm pretty sure one of them is Fred."
"Who's the other one? Is it Vanessa?"
"I can't tell. Could be. Or Nancy Winslow. Maybe even Steve or Beth. Whoever it is, they're pretty tall. Damn. It's just too dark."
"Should we go see?"
"What if they've got a gun? I thought you said we were going to call the police."
"There's no time," I said. "Fred might kill again."
"Fred? Fred killed Warren?" Charli looked scared.
"I think so. Do you have a tire iron or a jack or anything in the trunk?"
"Just John's golf clubs. Why?"
"Let's each get one. If we need a weapon, we can use the clubs."
"We're going up against a murderer --someone with a gun -- armed with golf clubs. Good thinking, Marty."
"Do you have a better idea?"
We went back to the car and grabbed the golf clubs out of the trunk. I retrieved the recorder from my purse and handed it to Charli. "Stick this in your jacket pocket."
She took the recorder. "Now what?" she said.
"Let's go down the side of the fence and around to the rear through the woods. I think there's a gate back there. Maybe we can sneak up on them that way," I said.
"Should we split up?" Charli asked. She was whispering.
"You don't have to whisper yet. I think we should stick together. Safety in numbers."
"Okay. But we should try not to make too much noise."
We gently closed the trunk and crept back over the tracks and down to the woods next to the fence. It was a fairly clear night. Crickets and cicadas hummed and buzzed. I slapped at an overly determined mosquito.
Charli gripped my arm as we went into the little thicket. "Do you think there are any snakes in here?"
"Probably."
She shuddered. "You better hope I don't step on one."
We went a few steps and Charli pulled on my arm again. "My heel's stuck."
"That's what you get for wearing high heels. Take your shoes off."
"No way." She leaned heavily into me and yanked on her foot. "There. Damn! I broke the heel. Those shoes cost ninety-five dollars."
"Charli, forget about your damn shoe. Let's go."
We made our way through the woods to the rear of the park. There wasn't a gate, but there was a place where the fence didn't meet the ground. It looked like the ground had washed away. I motioned to Charli to get down and crawl under. She motioned for me to go first. I laid on my stomach and slithered underneath while she held the fence wire up.
Once I was on the other side, Charli slid the golf clubs under. I held the fence wire up so she could crawl through. Her hair caught in the fence wire and I had to sort of yank it loose. I hated to think about how her ivory suit was going to look in the light. We crept up toward the portable toilets.
I heard Fred's voice. "It was you? All along? Did you kill Warren? Well, did you?"
I couldn't hear the other person's response.
"Did you hear that?" Charli whispered directly into my ear.
I nodded and motioned for her to move closer to the toilets. We moved up until we were right behind them.
"For Christ sake, put the gun down," Fred said. "Let's try to work this out."
"I knew there would be a gun," Charli whispered. "We should get the gun."
I missed the other person's answer because of Charli. I put my finger to my lips.
"Please," Fred said, "Just give me the gun. I'll do whatever you want. Anything."
I inched around behind the toilets to try and get a look. The moon came out from behind a cloud and I could see pretty clearly. There was a gun pointed at Fred's middle.
"Mom," Zach yelled out, "Drop the gun."
He ran through the entrance gate and across the grass toward where Roberta and Fred were standing.
I heard a gasp behind me. I looked around at Charli. Her eyes were like saucers. "Mom? Roberta?" she whispered.
I nodded.
"No. Zach, you get on back. This is between me and your dad. He's ruined my life and I won't let him get away with it anymore. I'm going to make him pay for everything he's put me through."
"Please, Roberta. Let's try and talk this out. If it's about me leaving you, I won't. We'll go get counseling."
"It's not that and you know it. It's everything. It's what you've turned me into. I hate you for what I've become."
"Mom," Zach yelled, "Please! Listen to me. This isn't going to help anything. It's only going to make it all worse."
"Worse? How can it be any worse? I've already killed one person. I'm a murderer, son. Do you hear that? A murderer. You think it's going to be any worse if I kill him?"
"No!" Zach's cry was agonizing. "Stop saying that Mom. You're just confused. You had a bad dream, that's all. Come on, Mom. Give me the gun. I know you didn't kill anybody."
"Yes, Zach, I did. I killed Warren. When your dad didn't come home the other night I thought he was with that woman again. After he'd promised me he would stay away from her. I took a baseball bat and I broke into her house. He was in the bed, sleeping. I hit him as hard as I could with it." Roberta dropped her voice so low I could barely hear her. "Only it wasn't Fred. It was Warren. Oh God, it was Warren."
"No, no, Mom, don't say that," Zach said. "Please stop saying that."
"But it's true, Zachie. I'm so sorry, but it's true. When I realized what I'd done, I panicked. That's when that woman got involved. Imagine, the one person I hate more than anything in the world, and I have to turn to her for help."
"Nancy helped you?" Fred said.
Roberta let out a little snort of laughter. "Yes. Isn't that rich. It was her idea to put Warren in the trash can. Although, I came up with the idea of putting that precious softball jersey of yours on him. But it cost me. It cost me plenty. I had to give her ten thousand dollars. But that wasn't enough for her. No. She wanted everything. She wanted to take away everything."
Zach let out a low, horrible sounding moan.
Roberta looked over at him and let the gun sag. Fred lunged toward her, going for the gun. The gun fired. The noise was deafening.
&n
bsp; Fred lay on the ground yelling, blood running down his leg. "Jesus Christ, Roberta! You shot me. You coulda killed me!"
Roberta held the gun back up, aiming it at Fred's head. Her back was to me. "Next time, I won't miss," she said.
I whispered to Charli. "Distract her."
Roberta was just a few feet away. She held the gun steady, still pointed at Fred. I whispered a prayer and waited for Charli's distraction. I sure did hope it was a good one.
Charli threw John's golf club as hard as she could. It smacked into the green trash tote that replaced the one Wart had been stuffed into. Roberta swung toward the sound and fired the gun. I hit her in the back. She fell hard to the ground. The gun flew out of her hand and landed a couple of feet in front of her. Even though she was thin, she was strong. She tried to roll over, but I pinned her down.
"Zach," I said, "get the gun."
He knelt next to Fred, frantically trying to stop the bleeding. "It's going to be okay. It's all going to be okay, isn't it Dad?"
I heard a siren in the distance. Charli grabbed the gun. I was sitting on Roberta. She'd finally stopped struggling and was just laying there, crying.
Tim's truck peeled to a stop and he ran over to where we were. "Is anyone hurt?"
"Fred. Can you get an ambulance?" I said.
"It's on the way. I called nine-one-one as soon as I read the note. Miz Turner way-laid me, hollering about how 'the snooty girl who'd put Warren in the trash can tried to steal her letter.' She was hollering and waving around a piece of paper. It took me a good two minutes to get her to show me her 'letter'. She said y'all took off out of the party like a bat out of hell." He looked over at Zach. "Said she told you first when you asked her if she'd seen Marty. You're a real prize, Thompson. Marty and Charli could have been killed because of you! You should have called for help."
Zach didn't even look at him. It was like he was in another world.
"Tim, leave him alone," I said. "He's been through a lot."
"And he's going to go through a whole lot more now that we've got the goods on his dad. Guess this wraps up the case pretty much."
"Not his dad. His mom."
Tim looked down at Roberta. "Her?"
"Yes. She killed Warren. Charli and I both heard her admit it."
"Yes," Charli said. "It's true." She held up my little recorder. "I taped it."
We told him the whole story. "And I expect that Nancy was the one that set the shed on fire, almost killing me and Zach."
Tim let out a low whistle. "So Nancy's involved in covering up a murder, not to mention arson, attempted murder, and running an illegal gambling operation. Well, that ought to get her a few years."
"God, I hope so. She's evil. She was also committing blackmail and extortion."
He smiled. "Well, we know about that. We were about to bring her in and have a little chat with her, as a matter of fact. This will all make it a much more interesting conversation."
"How'd you know about the blackmail? Vanessa?" I said.
"Vanessa. She came over to see Detective Luray today. She had quite a story to tell."
"I'm so glad."
"Me too," said Charli. She looked down at her grass-stained, dirt-encrusted suit. Dirt streaks covered her face. Her hair was wild, like she'd teased it. Or slid underneath a fence. "Well, should we get back to the party now?"
I looked down at my equally filthy dress and ripped tights. "The party," I groaned. "Mom is literally going to kill us."
Just then, a bright light flashed on. "Miss Sheffield," Giselle St. James said. Charli looked at me. I nodded. I took Rockin’ Robbie.
Giselle didn't realize what was happening. She kept talking, "Would you care to comment on...OOF!"
I slam dunked the camera into the big, green, ninety gallon trash can. Charli tossed the microphone in after it. Sisters. You gotta love 'em.