You Can't Hide

by Theresa Sneed

  And he had been useful, until he’d seen the kid. Went soft on him. Couldn’t rely on him anymore. Shame. The newspapers said the old man was the murderer and got caught in his own web. He chuckled. Marvin Snyder’s death would take the Feds off his back, and with Merrick Snyder on death row, he let out another chuckle, no one would even know he existed.

  He looked around. The place would soon be up for grabs, and it held far too many secrets for anyone to see. He stepped in front of the cellar door and kicked at it. Good, still secure. Bending over, he removed the bottom panel, reached inside, and jimmied the steel rod wedged against the door and the top step. Standing up, he pushed the door open. The rod clanked, as it slid down the steps, followed by his heavy footsteps.

  Spanning the cellar, he wondered how long it would take someone to find his shrine. Ha! Even if they did, they’d think it was Marvin’s. He stared at the pictures of Heard and the young kid tacked to the wall, and almost left the shrine intact. But then, he removed each one, and put them with the new clippings of their deaths, in a bag slung over his shoulder.

  Back upstairs, he didn’t bother to secure the cellar door, but went straight to the front door, and slammed it behind him. Down the street, he pulled into the gas station. The young kid that was always there, met him at his car window.

  The kid went straight to the gas pump. “Fill ‘er up?” After receiving confirmation, he stuck the gas pump into the fuel tank and then went about cleaning the windows. He made light talk. “Too bad about that fire outside of town that killed those people.”

  The man grunted and tried to ignore him.

  “My dad says that Snyder guy did it.”

  The man stared straight ahead and then glanced down at his watch.

  “I dunno though, my uncle, he works at Rawlings Funeral Home up Sevierville way, and he says something really weird is going on.”

  That caught his attention, and he looked up at the boy. “What?”

  “Seems a couple bodies came up missing in the morgue that evening, too. Weird, huh?”

  The man’s hand slipped down into his pocket, and he fingered the blue fairy. Rage swelled within him, and he squeezed it so hard, he felt the head snap off. His tires spun, as he pulled out of the gas station. On the outskirts of town, he pulled over. “No!” He whammed the steering wheel. Pull yourself together man.

  Later, by the light of the moon, he pried the side door of the funeral home open, his gun in hand. Strands of moonlight seeped through the blinds casting eerie shadows on the walls and floor. His eyes adjusted. He moved through the rooms, stopping only once to try a locked door. The door had a small window revealing a morgue. The lock was new. Like that would keep him out. He grunted. It wasn’t what he wanted anyway.

  Moving quietly from room to room, he came to an office with the door left ajar. Inside, he shuffled through papers on the desk and opened the file cabinet. He couldn’t find a shred of evidence that any bodies had ever come up missing, but then again, if the Feds were involved, there would be no evidence.

  Wait, what’s this? A few pictures were tucked in the pocket of the file. He shuffled through the pictures of the charred bodies of three adults and one child and then spread them out on the desk. Appeased, he was about to leave, when footsteps sounded down the hall. He stepped into the next room and peered through its partially opened door.

  It was a woman. She took one look at the pictures and gasped. With a shaky hand, she rummaged through her pocket and pulled out a piece of crumpled paper. She picked up the phone.

  “You said to call, if anything was suspicious. Well, the pictures you took are laying out on the desk. You didn’t leave them there, did you?” She put the receiver to her other ear. “Yes, yes, I’ll wait for you. Call the cops? No? Okay.”

  She hung the phone up and stared at the pictures. “I knew this would get him in trouble. Someone knows about the switch.”

  Switch? The blood boiled in his veins. He maneuvered his way through the back room and out the side door, unseen by the woman. Walking swiftly to his car, he got in, and took off. He slammed his fists against the steering wheel. “A switch?”

  Fuming, he squeezed the steering wheel tight. “I will find you, Miss Heard. Someday, you’re going to resurface, and I’ll be there.” It was time to go back into hiding—in plain sight. Back to his regular life, undetected, unknown, but very much aware of his ultimate purpose—revenge.

  Fifteen

  A New Life

  Nancy clung to the framed portrait of her and Sally, pictures and memories were the only things she had left of her daughter. Cruel life. To have held Sally in my arms and then have her ripped away from me by that beast is more than I can bear. She fell back into the chair and sobbed.

  Six months had passed . . . six long and lonely months. Having Eddie near was good. Being with her aged mother was equally so, but the black abyss etched in her heart was ever present, burning with unrelenting agony.

  A light knock on the door brought her back to reality. “Yes?”

  Eddie stuck his large hand around the door frame and stepped inside her bedroom. “Hey, Sis,” he said. She could tell that something bothered him, by the deep crease on his forehead, and his sad eyes. His eyes were often sad now. Sally had eternally carved a spot in his heart.

  She pressed down a strand of stubborn hair. “Yes?”

  He stepped closer, moving slow and awkward. She didn’t like the strange look in his eyes. “What’s wrong, Eddie?”

  He shook his head. “It’s, uh, Mom.”

  Nancy had had a difficult time getting her mother to eat the night before, but that wasn’t too unusual. She’d had always been a picky eater and meatloaf was not among her favorite foods. She was probably hungry. Nancy stood. “Oh, okay, I’ll scramble her some eggs. Can you start the bacon?”

  He didn’t say a thing. He put his big hand on her shoulder, and gently guided her back into the chair.

  She grasped the sides of the chair. She knew what he was going to say. “Eddie?” Her voice shook.

  Tears welled up in his eyes. “She’s gone, Sis.”

  She had expected it for some time, but not right now. She needed her too much. Eddie knelt down beside her and wrapped his arms around her quivering shoulders.

  Everything had been set in place years ago, down to the very songs she wanted sung at her funeral. The family milled around, waiting for the viewing to begin. The funeral would be the next day.

  Nancy leaned close to her brother. “Excuse me, Eddie.” She touched his arm. “I’ll be right back.” She left the room and headed toward the bathroom. On the way back, an older woman stepped in front of her.

  “I’m so sorry, Nancy.”

  She didn’t recognize her, but assumed she was someone from town who had known her mother. “Thank you.”

  The woman shuffled through her purse. “I knew your mother well, and I, uh, have some old pictures of her that I’d like you to have.”

  “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  The woman continued to search in her purse. “Oh, dear.” She looked up at Nancy. “I must have left them at my house—or maybe in my car.”

  Nancy tilted her head. “You can give them to me later.” The woman nodded and then walked past her into the viewing room.

  Throughout the evening, a slew of friends arrived, offering their condolences. Every time Nancy glanced at the coffin where her mother’s body lay, she felt conflicted. It didn’t even look like her mom and she was reminded that no one ever looked like themselves after death. Fortunately, the evening passed quickly. Except for the funeral director, Eddie and she were the last to leave.

  Eddie shuffled his feet. “Hey, Nance, do you want me to wait for you?”

  It was just like him to be overprotective of her. “Oh, no, Eddie. I’m fine.” She waved him off, watched him leave, and then turned back to the coffin.

  She reached over and patted her mother’s cold hand. “I miss you already.” Tears fell fast. She wiped at the
m and then quickly composed herself. “Goodbye, Mom.” She gave her one last look and then left.

  She stepped outside. There were two cars in the parking lot parked side-by-side. She assumed one was the funeral director’s car. But as she got near, the driver’s side door opened and the mysterious woman from earlier got out.

  The woman waved at her. “I have those pictures for you, Nancy.” She opened the back door and looked inside. “There in a small box.” She searched the backseat. “Huh. Now where did I put it?” Thrusting her hands on her hips, she frowned. “I must have left the box at my house.” She gestured to the front seat. “Get in, and we’ll go get it.”

  Nancy looked at her own car setting beside the woman’s. Surely, this woman must’ve known it was hers. Everyone else had left, except for the funeral director. She tilted her head. “Uh, I don’t even know who you are.”

  The woman smiled. “Oh, dear me. I’m Gladys. I went to school with your mother a long, long time ago. Surely, she mentioned me?” She sighed. “Maybe not. I moved away right after school. I’ve only been back here for a short while.”

  “Oh.” Nancy bit her bottom lip. The name did sound familiar. “How about I follow you? That way you won’t have to bring me back here for my car.”

  “True. True.” Gladys nodded and then got into her car. She waited for Nancy to pull in behind her before she drove out of the parking lot.

  It was a lovely house, one that Nancy had admired for years. She followed Gladys up the stone steps and onto the porch, while Gladys stuck a key into the lock. Inside, she offered her some coffee and went into another room. She returned with a tall man, and handed her the coffee.

  “Hello, Nancy.” The man sat down across from her.

  She couldn’t read his intense look. It made her feel uncomfortable. “Hello,” she said, returning his formal greeting.

  Gladys sat down beside her. She gestured for her to set the coffee cup on the end table and then patted her knee. “I’m not Gladys. I don’t live here, and I never knew your mother.”

  Nancy jumped up, bumping against the end table. The coffee sloshed over the cup’s ridge. She sat back down when the man arose and towered over her. “What do you want? Who are you?” Her heart thudded in her chest.

  “We’re FBI,” the woman said, showing Nancy her ID. The man opened his wallet and did likewise.

  “FBI?” Nancy couldn’t breathe. “What is this?”

  The woman placed a folder on Nancy’s lap. “Here.”

  She opened the folder, and a picture of Sally fell from it. Nancy’s heart went to her throat. “Why would you do this? This is so cruel!”

  The woman tapped the picture. Sally was holding a newspaper in it.

  “Yes, I see the paper is from Elkmont, Tennessee, but why are you showing me this?”

  “Your daughter died on a Thursday, am I right?”

  She struggled inwardly for a way to escape.

  “Nancy,” the man said. “Look at the date on the newspaper.”

  Shaking, she looked down at the photo. The newspaper was dated a day after Sally had died. “What does this mean?” She wanted so desperately to believe it. She stared at the picture of Sally and then the date, unable to take her eyes off either one. Could it really be true? Trembles rippled throughout her body.

  The man offered her a pill. “Take this. It’ll calm you down.”

  “What? No.” She shook her head. “I’m okay.” She stood and paced the room, glancing back at them from time to time. Sally? Alive? She quivered uncontrollably, shaking so hard it hurt. Could it be real? She stared at the photo clutched in her hands. Without warning, she burst into tears. “Alive?” It came out as a whisper. “Alive?” she repeated.

  “Yes, Nancy, no one died in that cabin except for Marvin Snyder.”

  She looked up at them through tear filled eyes and then sank back down on the chair. “But, there were four bodies recovered at the cabin.”

  “Yes, but not their bodies.”

  Her lip turned up in a curl and her body slanted away from them. “Ew.”

  The man shrugged. “No one you know, ma’am. They—”

  She didn’t need to know more and held her hand up to stop him. She wiped at the tears on her face. Sally was alive—and Elle, too. “Amazing,” she said, a quiver in her voice.

  She jumped up and raced toward the door. “I have to tell Eddie.” She threw the door open and went to dash outside toward her car, but it was gone. At first, it didn’t register. “You took my car?” She closed the door and turned to them. Her eyes narrowed. “You took Sally?”

  The woman nodded. “They came to us, and yes, we relocated them.”

  She sank back into the chair. Okay, that made sense. A smile formed, where one before couldn’t surface. Alive? And then, realization sunk in. “You’re taking me now? You’re taking me to Sally?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Ecstatic, she jumped back up. “Eddie will want to come, too.” But even as she said it, she knew it couldn’t happen. Eddie was married. His wife was not well, and she needed her family as much as Nancy needed Sally. “How will you do it? I mean, how will you make me disappear?” She quivered.

  “We have ways of making any death seem an accident.”

  That much was obvious, she thought, trembling. They had acquired four corpses to replace Sally, Elle, Karen, and Sam. Making her death look like an accident was probably easy for them, first-year spy-stuff.

  “And my body? I suppose it will be a closed coffin, but my brother would never hear of not seeing me.”

  “Oh, he will still be able to view you.”

  She groaned. “How?”

  “You’ll be heavily sedated. There are drugs that can make a person seem like they’re not breathing.”

  Her gut churned and she felt ill. “Oh. Really.”

  The woman stood and gestured toward the door. “We’re ready to take you now.”

  Nancy shook her head. “I need to go to my mother’s funeral first.”

  The man shook his head. “Not a good idea. You might give it away and endanger Sally and the others.”

  She was quiet for a moment. “Of course, you’re right, but I did some acting in school, and I’m pretty good at it.” She held her face like stone with not a trace of emotion.

  The woman smiled. “She is pretty good.”

  Nancy clasped her hands together. “Please?” she begged. “One last time to say goodbye—” at that, her voice broke.

  The man’s face hardened. “You understand that you could blow their cover, right?”

  Nancy thrust her hands on her hips. “Do you have kids?” she quipped.

  His eyes widened. “Uh, yes, ma’am.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “If you were me, do you think you’d let anything ‘slip’ that would harm them?”

  He looked at the other FBI agent, and then he turned back to Nancy. “No ma’am.”

  She drew her head back. “Then okay, let me do this.”

  After a phone call, her car was brought back to the house. Nancy stared at a bag of groceries on the front seat. “What’s this?”

  The agent shrugged. “Your cover, why you didn’t go home right after the viewing.”

  She rummaged through the bag, pulled out things she never would’ve bought from the store, and then handed them to the agents.

  On the way back to the house she now shared with just Eddie and his wife, soon to be just them without me, she thought sadly, she felt conflicted—both happy and sad, joyous and miserable. How was she going to act like nothing huge was about to happen? She would focus on the great sorrow of leaving her only brother, her only sibling, and that would keep her from beaming from ear to ear about Sally.

  Gratefully, Eddie was on his way to bed. After giving her a quick peck on the cheek, he retired to his room. Inside her bedroom, she paced nervously. How was she going to deceive her dear brother? Sally, she thought over and over, strengthening her resolve. Tomorrow was going to be difficul
t enough, without adding more anguish to the mix.

  She arose early and hummed, while she brushed through her long hair. As instructed, she picked out her most favorite jewelry to wear. Everything else had to remain. Nothing had to look like she was planning to leave.

  She dressed in a plain black outfit and simple earrings and then went into her mother’s room. She’d at least wear something of her mother’s to remember her by, but the simple act of not seeing her mother in the room, brought her to tears.

  “Oh, Sis.” Eddie’s normally loud voice was soft. In one stride, he was at her side and embraced her.

  She couldn’t let go. Every muscle in her body said, release him, but she could not. She couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again.

  “Hey, Sis, it’s going to be alright. I mean, we’ll miss her, and all, terribly,” he said, with a crack in his voice, “but she lived a good life, now didn’t she?”

  It was just like him to be so strong, so his next words, nearly brought her to her knees.

  “Not like little Sally . . . Sally,” he broke down into sobs, “she was way too young to die.” His great shoulders heaved as he wept. “Why sweet, little, Sally?” He regained his composure and wiped his hand across his nose. “Sorry . . .” Sighing heavily, he took her hand in his. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  That was it. That was too much. “Eddie. Sit down. We need to talk.”

  At the funeral, Eddie wept like a baby, but Nancy knew most of those tears were tears of joy. They had talked into the night, making plans about how they could secretly rendezvous after a few years had passed while waiting for Merrick’s execution and the whole thing to hopefully be over. He swore on their mother’s grave that he wouldn’t tell a soul, and she knew he wouldn’t. The only problem was his occasional grin during their mother’s funeral. She had to elbow him more than once.

  Finally, it was over, and they stood at her graveside. “Funny thing,” he whispered, so only she could hear. “I’m gonna miss you like crazy, but just knowing . . . you know what,” he said, with a wink. “I can get through anything.”