You Can't Hide

by Theresa Sneed

“Apparently, he has better things to do.”

  “Why, I’ll—”

  “You’ll what, Mr. Snyder?” She weaved her fingers together on top of her briefcase. “I am a successful lawyer, and I think I can help you.”

  He made a face. “Right. Have you even read my case, Willis?”

  “Of course I have. But are you aware that your rights were trampled upon?” It got the intended result, just as Elle had predicted.

  Merrick’s eyebrow rose, and he leaned forward. “Go on.”

  “Oh, on more than one level, Mr. Snyder, your rights were abused. Did they have a warrant to enter your house?”

  He grumbled. “My mother let them in.”

  Karen shuffled the papers in front of her—notes that she and Elle had put together. “Yes, Winnie Snyder, but are you aware that your mother didn’t call them?”

  He drew his head back. “Of course, she did.”

  She looked him directly in the eye. “No, she did not. Samuel Hancock broke into your house. He found her unconscious, and he called the authorities.”

  He punched the top of the table. “I knew it.”

  “Any first year lawyer would know that. Breaking and entering is illegal and doesn’t negate the need for a search warrant.” She hoped her lies were convincing.

  He drummed the table with his fingers. “Tell me more.”

  Her best lie yet. “Mr. Snyder, I have been interested in your case from day one, and jumped on the opportunity to uh, serve you,” she said softly. Reaching across the table, she placed her hand on his, then removed it quickly, feigning embarrassment. “I, uh, I need to know your story—everything about Merrick Snyder. I’m sure we can find proof that you were set up.” She made a face. “At least, that is what I think happened.”

  He studied her face. “I like you, Willis. What do you need to know?”

  Several minutes later, a knock on the door alerted them that their session was over. Karen wet her lips. “Thank you, Mr. Snyder,” she said, staring at him. “I think I have everything I need.” The guard rose and stepped behind Merrick. “It was nice meeting you.” She pushed her hand toward Merrick, and this time, he took it.

  She waited for the guard to remove Merrick from the room and then followed after them, careful to not let her shaking knees betray her anxious thoughts. Merrick was from Elkmont, a small town in Tennessee—the very information that Elle had hoped she’d find.

  Merrick shoved a twenty-dollar bill into the guard’s hands. “Follow her and see who she’s with.” He paced the hall until the guard returned.

  The guard handed Merrick a small piece of paper with the plate numbers. “A man and a woman with Tennessee license plates.”

  Merrick drew his head back. “Tennessee? Who’s helping her from Tennessee? I need to make a phone call.” He handed the guard a folded piece of paper. “He’ll pay you for your time,” he said, under his breath. “Now, step aside.” He gestured for the guard to move, while he used the phone hanging on the wall.

  Someone picked up on the other end. “She’s on her way, and she’s not alone.”

  “Hancock?”

  “Nah, can’t be him, but double check just in case. She’s with Willis and someone from Tennessee.” He read off the plate numbers. “Got it?”

  “Yep.” The man was silent for a few seconds, then spoke up. “The grave is dug and waiting. I might have to make it a little bigger, but I’ll take care of it.”

  “See that you do,” Merrick said gruffly.

  Nine

  Sally

  Sally stirred, and her head hurt awful. Her throat was raw and dry, worse than it felt when she had a cold. “Mommy?” she said, sitting up. She looked around the dimly lit room. Not recognizing where she was, she began to sob. “Where am I? Mommy?” Her tummy growled, and she pressed her fingers into it. She wrapped her arms around herself. “Mommy, where are you?” Several minutes later, her crying settled into whimpers. Finally, she stood.

  Scuffing the soles of her footed pajamas against the dirt floor, she made her way around the small room, looking for a way out. On one end, stairs led up to a very big door, but it was crooked and hard to lift. It reminded her of the weird door at Gramma Louise’s—the one that led down into the ground. In the middle of the room, a ladder went up to the ceiling. She stared at it for a long time. Seeing nothing at the top that looked like a door, and being afraid of heights, she gave up on it.

  Slumping to the floor, tears slipped down her face. She reached up and brushed at them, and then her hand dropped down beside her and rubbed up against something in the pocket of her pajamas. Pulling it out, she stared at the small, blue fairy—a gift from her Aunt Karen. She remembered putting it there, before she crawled into bed. Holding it near, she walked around the room again, and then carefully set the fairy on a pile of old clothes crumpled on the floor. “You sleep now,” she said bravely.

  Hours passed. With nothing else to do, she began picking things up and arranging the room. An overturned bucket became a table, and though it took a lot of effort, she finally was able to roll a piece of wood over to it for a chair.

  “There,” she said, fighting back the tears. She glanced around. “Sam will find me, just like he did before.” That comforted her some, and she went back to the crumpled clothing, picked up the fairy, and brought it to her table.

  “Did you have a good nap?” She sighed. “What do we do now?” The fairy stared back at her. “Yes, I know, you’re scared, like me,” she said trembling, “but at least, we have each other.” She picked it up and kissed it. “There, is that better?” Forcing a smile, she looked around.

  A pang of sorrow pierced her heart, and she fought back more tears—her eyes were already so swollen that they hurt. Mommy says crying is good for you, but crying at the wrong times can be bad. This is a wrong time.

  She picked up the fairy and walked over to the steps, trying once more to push the door up. The best that she could do only released small pieces of dirt into her eyes. It stung and she wiped at them, but this time, she did not stop the tears. Crawling on top of the crumpled clothing, she cried herself to sleep.

  She dreamt the oddest dream. Papa Joe told her to not give up—to look for little things she could do to get out of trouble—just like Richie Rich.

  Upon awakening, she sat up straight. She glanced over at the door. Shielding her eyes from the falling dirt, she pulled on it, but it still wouldn’t budge. Little things, she thought. She poked at the door, until she found a soft part of it that gave a little. Searching the room for something to use, she spied a pile of broken glass in the far corner.

  Papa was a whittler and had showed her how to carve on soap. He said never to carve without protecting your hands. She looked around, until her eyes fell back to the pile of clothing. Pulling one of the dirty shirts from the pile, she wrapped it around her hand, and then she scraped at the soft wood, carving thin pieces from it. Much later, the part she had carved was no bigger than a teaspoon. “Little things,” she whimpered.

  Ten

  Elkmont

  Karen spread the map out on the picnic table. “Right here,” she said, placing her finger on Elkmont. “We’re almost there.”

  Todd took a bite from an apple he had picked from a tree along the way. “Beautiful country,” he said, gazing up at the mountains.

  “Yes, it is.” Karen folded the map. “Okay, Elle, let me see if I’ve got this right.” She pointed to the car. “We’re going to cruise Elkmont until we find her.”

  Elle lowered her eyes. “Pretty much.” After her friend let out a long sigh, she continued. “We’re going to knock on every door until we find someone who knew the Snyders.”

  “And what are we going say? ‘Hey, we’re looking for Sally Snyder, daughter of a dead cop, murdered by his brother, who is from here?’”

  Elle rolled her eyes. “No, we’re going to pretend we’re taking a survey for the town. We’ll say, the town is thinking of building a retirement center and ask them a
bout their opinion.”

  “Okay, that’s a way into their homes, but how do you ask them about Merrick?”

  “We wait until they sign their names, and then when someone signs Snyder, we—”

  “Oh, come on, Elle. We don’t have that much time to interview every resident of Elkmont.”

  A puff of air escaped Elle’s throat. “You’re right. Any ideas?”

  “Yeah.” Todd tossed the apple in the grass. “Let’s go to the town hall and ask them where the Snyder’s live—they have records there.”

  Elle nodded. “That’s a great idea. Okay, let’s head out.”

  Pulling up to a gas station, Todd motioned for the attendant to come near. “Fill ‘er up, oh, and, where’s the Town Hall?”

  “Down that way.” The young man pointed toward a row of buildings.

  “Say, maybe you know. “I’m looking for my uncle’s house—the Snyders?”

  His eyes widened. “You mean that Snyder that’s been on the news?”

  Todd nodded nonchalantly. “Yep.”

  The attended grunted. “Ain’t no Snyders here no more. House is emptier than a swallow’s nest in the winter.” He pointed the other direction. “Thems all buried in the cemetery.”

  “No Snyders at all?”

  “Not here, mister. Least whys, none that I know of. When the story broke, the only family had already left. House has been empty for seven or eight years.”

  Elle was surprised with that news. She leaned out the window in the back. “He had family here?”

  “Yes’m, a wife, but no one seen her for years. Some thinks she’s in the nuthouse, she had a reputation of being, y’know—nuts.”

  Her eyes widened. “I had no idea.”

  He looked at her strangely then spoke to Todd. “I guess you’re here to claim his stuff.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly why I’m here.”

  “He gots himself a fine home on Summer Street.”

  “Really? And that is?”

  “Down that street and take two rights.”

  Todd paid him, gave him a generous tip, and then took off toward Summer Street. A crooked mailbox in the front had Snyder written across it. “This is it.”

  Elle’s heart raced as they passed by the house. Todd pulled over farther down the road, and they got out. The three of them walked up the sidewalk toward the house.

  The neighborhood was quiet, with more than one empty house on the street. They bounded up the steps. Elle peered through the windows. The house was fully furnished, neat and organized, not at all what she had expected, except that Merrick had been a stickler for order in Taunton, too. Finding both the front and back doors locked, she leaned against the porch rail. “What now?”

  “We didn’t come this far for nothing.” Karen’s voice dropped low. “Get the blanket from the car.”

  “A blanket,” Elle said, dumbfounded.

  “To put over the broken glass.”

  What broken glass, thought Elle, looking back at the windows.

  Karen glanced left and right, picked up a rock, and then hurtled it against the window on the porch. “For Sally,” she said.

  Todd shook his head. “You think you know somebody,” he said, with a smirk.

  Elle hurried to the car and returned with the blanket. After pushing most of the glass away, Karen laid it over the window frame, climbed inside, and then unlocked the front door.

  Todd stepped beside Karen. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “My little criminal.” Once inside, they searched the house. “Do you think Sally could be here,” he whispered.

  “No. Merrick wouldn’t make it that easy,” Elle said. “He wanted me to come here, but I don’t think he wants me to find Sally right away.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s playing a cat-and-mouse game.” She groaned, deep in thought. “So like him. Merrick wouldn’t have told you where he was from, unless he hoped you’d tell me.”

  “No way. I totally fooled him with the lawyer bit.”

  “No offense, but he totally fooled you.”

  Karen’s mouth fell open. “And you’re just now telling me this? Why did you send me in to see him?”

  For Sally, she thought glumly. “I’m pretty sure he’s baiting us, Karen. He wants us to be right where we are, but we’ve got to stay one step ahead of his insanity.”

  Karen put her hands on her hips. “And how is doing what he expected us to do, staying one step ahead of him?”

  A puff of air escaped Elle’s throat. “He’ll never suspect that we know that he’s up to something. That gives us the upper hand.”

  “Huh. I’ll be right back.” Todd lifted the blanket off the broken window, shook it out, and went to the car. Shortly, he returned, and Elle did not have to guess what he had under the blanket—the rifle. “Just staying one step ahead,” he said, under his breath.

  They spent the next few minutes looking through the rooms, inside closets and drawers, finding nothing of interest. “He doesn’t have a single picture of his wife anywhere.”

  “Yes, it’s a shock that he even had a wife.” Elle shrugged. “But not much of a shock that she had mental issues, huh?” She sighed. “Someone must know something. Let’s start asking around.”

  “And draw attention to ourselves?” Karen’s eyes widened.

  “Ah-huh. The more people who know who we are, and why we are here, the better. That is exactly what Merrick will not think we will do.”

  Todd called from the other room. “There’s a door in here that I can’t open.”

  Hurrying into the room, they discovered that the door would not budge, even though the door knob turned easily in his hand. “I don’t see a lock anywhere,” Todd said. He pushed. “It’s like its jammed or something.” All three of them pushed on it, but it wouldn’t move.

  Strange, Elle thought, staring over her shoulder at the door as they went back into the kitchen.

  “Oh. Look,” Karen said, pointing to a ring of keys hanging on the wall. While taking the keys from the hook, her hand knocked against the light switch, and it flickered on. “Wow. Abandoned or not, someone is paying the bills.”

  Elle stared at her. “That is so weird. Why would an abandoned house still have utilities?”

  “Coz, it ain’t abandoned,” a gruff voice said behind her. “What are you doing in my house?” The old man held a gun in his quivering hands. He was tall and broad shouldered, though bent over some. A lock of white hair fell across his unshaven face, but there was no doubt about it, this man was a Snyder. He had Merrick’s square jaw and stern eyes.

  Elle drew back, sudden fear overcoming her. She could barely get the words out. “We were told that this house was abandoned.”

  “Uh, and we’re thinking of buying it,” Todd added.

  The old man’s hand shook. “It ain’t abandoned, and it ain’t for sale.” He stared at the rifle, and Todd lowered it to the floor. “Who are you?”

  Elle patted the air in front of her. “Put your gun down, too. We aren’t here to buy your house.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Are you, by any chance, a Snyder?” He drew his head back, as if she had discovered a dark secret. “The man we thought owned this house took my daughter.”

  His eyes widened. “Merrick?” He lowered the gun. “Nah. Impossible. He’s in prison, right where he belongs. And why would you think he’d take your kid?”

  “Three days ago, my daughter disappeared. Someone broke into our cabin and took her away.” She broke down into tears. “I’m Elle Heard. Merrick kept me captive for—”

  “You’re that poor girl he abducted.” Anguish swept over the old man, and he sank onto the couch. “Oh, my.” The gun fell to his lap. “And then the missing girl is . . . Sally.”

  Elle drew in a sharp breath. “You know her?”

  His eyes were weary. “She’s my granddaughter.” He wiped a tear from his eyes. “Malcom’s daughter, not Merrick’s.”

  Stunned, she blurted o
ut, “You’re Winnie’s ex-husband?”

  “Yep. Name’s Marvin . . . Marvin Snyder.” He shook his head. “Wasn’t much of a husband to her, had my own demons to deal with.” Laying the gun on the couch, he continued. “Spent most of my life in prison, didn’t get out but a year ago.” His eyes filled with tears. “Found Christ in there—I really found him.”

  Elle’s voice softened. “I don’t understand. Merrick never mentioned you.”

  “Didn’t know about him until I read it in the papers. Winnie never told me we had two of ‘em,” he added, with a grunt. “’Course, I was in the slammer then.” He looked around the room. “And then, a few months ago, some lawyer guy contacts me about this house, wants to know if I want it or not.” Marvin shook his head. “Never even been here until a short while ago, but the papers were all in order, so I signed them. It’s a quiet little town to get lost in.” He patted his wallet. “Had some money saved, so, I’m set for a while.”

  Elle moved closer to him. “You never knew Merrick at all?”

  “Nah. And he doesn’t know me. After he murdered a cop, the house was placed in forfeiture, but when they determined the house wasn’t used in the crime, I got it, coz, I’m the next of kin.”

  Elle grimaced. The crimes that Merrick committed were all in Taunton. “But what about his wife?”

  Marvin scratched his chin. “Wife? What wife?” He shrugged. “No one mentioned a wife to me.”

  Maybe the gas station attendant had his facts wrong, she thought, but, why would he make something like that up? “Does Merrick know you’re here?”

  “Nope. Doesn’t need to, does he? He ain’t going nowhere.”

  She nodded, relieved that they had Marvin on their side, someone who knew the town better than they did. Someone who might be able to help them decipher Merrick’s madness.

  But, why had Merrick’s deception led them to Elkmont, and how soon would it be before his partner on the outside came forward—the one that had planted the clues and abducted Sally?

  She looked at the old man. What if he was lying? What if Marvin was Merrick’s accomplice? No, Elle, look at him. He could never have carried Sally downstairs and into a car. Still, she knew she would have to watch him closely.