The Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 7)

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  With only a few seconds to make a decision, I quickly reviewed my options. I could get out of my car and run toward the pickup, demanding that Molly get out. But what if Marco panicked and tried to run me over? What if he had a gun? There were many ways this could go bad. Maybe the better decision was to follow them .

  I grabbed a baseball cap from the back seat and slowly pulled into the road, leaving a safe distance between me and the pickup.

  Using my hands-free Bluetooth, I called Detective James. When he didn’t answer, I left a brief message that I found Marco and described the pickup he was driving along with plate numbers. I also mentioned that Molly had left with him willingly, or so it seemed. I planned to tail them for as long as I could, but if they crossed state lines there would be nothing I could do.

  I had no way of knowing if Molly was in imminent danger or not, but I didn’t have a good feeling about this. I tried her cell phone one last time, and a mechanical voice told me the message box was full.

  I had a half tank of gas, which would give me at least two hundred miles. How long would I be able to continue following them until one of them noticed me? In my line of work, I had become pretty adept at tailing people, but Marco was a fugitive. After a year of being on the run, I could only imagine he had developed eyes on the back of his head.

  From Bridgeport, I followed them to the Spaulding Turnpike where he continued for five miles. Just before a toll, he took exit 6 which lead us onto Route 4 heading west. After another ten miles on that stretch, we passed through the town of Northwood, and then took a right onto Route 107. There was an abandoned gas station on the corner, and I decided to pull over there.

  At this point, I could tell they were headed into a remote area with all the signs for camping, hunting, and fishing. I watched the pickup continue down the road for another quarter-mile or so, until it veered off to the right and disappeared from sight.

  It was 8:20. In another half hour it would be dark.

  I checked my phone, but there were still no calls or messages from Molly or Detective James.

  There were no buildings on this road. No street lamps either. All of the side roads seemed to be dirt driveways, although no houses could be seen with all the trees. I imagined the roads led to hunting cabins or private campgrounds.

  Detective James called. “Sarah, where are you?”

  “Northwood, New Hampshire. I’m guessing there’s a campsite around here, but I don’t have their exact location.”

  “Well,” he said, “I made some calls and you’re not going to believe what I found out. Yesterday a woman by the name of Linda Mason from Roanoke, Virginia, made a call to the FBI. Long story short, she claimed that Marco Diaz has been living in her home for the past year.”

  “Who is Linda Mason?” I said. “And why would she admit to harboring a fugitive?”

  “Apparently, Linda Mason’s daughter, Heather, had dated Marco years ago. Her story is that Marco showed up at Heather’s apartment in Miami about a year ago, asking for help. He was hiding from the police and needed a place to stay. Heather took him in, but the police began sniffing around her apartment when they questioned all of Marco’s friends. Heather and Marco decided to leave town, went to Virginia, and they’ve been hiding out in Linda’s basement for over a year.

  “It’s not clear right now if the mother knew that Marco was wanted for murder from the beginning but, get this, Heather and Marco have a baby together. Two months old. Last week Heather asked her mom to take care of the baby because she and Marco needed to go out of town for a few days. Linda agreed to watch the baby, but after a week went by with no calls from her daughter, she got concerned. She called the FBI and explained the situation. She gave them a description of the daughter’s minivan: a brown 2008 Dodge with Virginia plates. The U.S. Marshals Service put out a request for the public’s assistance for information on the location of Marco Diaz and Heather Mason.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Marco is driving a pickup truck with New Hampshire plates. And I’m pretty sure that he and Molly are alone. Unless, Heather is waiting at one of these campsites. I don’t like this scenario. If Marco and Heather have a baby together, then what do they want from Molly?”

  “I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”

  “What can you tell me about Heather Mason? Does she have a record?”

  “Does she ever. A rap sheet dating back five or six years. In 2014, she spent a few months in jail for assault and she’s still on probation.”

  “We need to get some cops out here pronto,” I said. “Were you able to speak with someone from the U.S. Marshals Service? Do they know that one of their witnesses is in danger?”

  “Yeah, I have one of my men working on that. I’m supposed to hear back from someone soon.”

  “But how long will that take? If Molly is in trouble, I’m not going to leave her out here in the middle of nowhere with two maniacs. Besides, I still haven’t been able to pinpoint their exact location.”

  “Molly never should’ve left town with Marco in the first place,” he said. “She violated the rules of witness protection. Not to mention this isn’t your problem. Let the authorities take over.”

  I ignored his last comment. “Can you do me a favor and email me a picture of Heather Mason so I can keep a lookout for her and the minivan.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, do me a favor and stay out of sight.”

  After the call ended, I felt a little guilty, knowing James would catch hell from Carter if anything happened to me. I told myself that I wasn’t in any danger, as long as I kept my head down and out of sight. I would listen, observe, and take notes like a good student. I didn’t need to be a hero. I just wanted to find Molly and get her in a safe place.

  Ten minutes later, James sent a mug shot of Heather Mason. She was your average-looking girl in her twenties with brown hair and green eyes, and a tattoo of a butterfly on her neck.

  By 9:15 it was pitch black outside. My parking lights shut off, so the only light came from my cell phone. It was hot and stuffy inside the car, so I rolled down the window an inch, which turned out to be a bad idea as I slapped the mosquitoes away. The windows went up.

  From where I was parked, I spotted a set of headlights in the distance, headed up the road in my direction. I quickly reclined my seat to become invisible. Once the vehicle passed by, I lifted my head just an inch to look in the rearview mirror.

  A minivan with Virginia plates.

  “Gotcha!” I said, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline. This was my big break, and I couldn’t screw it up.

  I noticed the van had pulled onto a dirt road, not too far from my car, and I made a mental note of a large rock as a marker.

  I sat up and made the call to Detective James. “She’s here. And now I know where they are. Send someone over right away.”

  Chapter 14

  Molly

  When I opened my eyes, everything was dark.

  It took a moment to remember where I was.

  Cabin. Woods. Marco.

  I slowly turned my head left and right and felt around the bed. Marco was not sleeping next to me

  I got to my feet, but I was dizzy. Head spinning. Legs wobbly.

  Once my eyes adjusted to the dark, I found one of the flashlights then wandered out of the bedroom to look around. With no clocks on the wall, I wondered what time it was. I cleared my throat and called out, “Marco?”

  No response.

  I stumbled over to the door and unhooked the latch. As the door swung open, a warm breeze brushed against my face. The pickup was still parked in the same spot, so he couldn’t be far away. Maybe he couldn’t sleep and had gone for a walk. Or, maybe he was sleeping inside his truck.

  As I stepped into the darkness, I noticed there was another car, parked directly behind the truck. An old, rusty minivan with Virginia license plates.

  With panic rising in my chest, I called out again, “Marco?” My voice was so weak a
nd hollow, it came out almost as a whisper.

  Where the hell was he?

  Back inside, I found my backpack. I opened it up and searched for the pepper spray Sarah had given me, but it was gone.

  With flashlight in hand, I exited the cabin again and approached Marco’s truck. I flashed the light inside, finding it empty, then went to the minivan and did the same. The keys were still in the ignition, but what really surprised me was the baby car seat in the back.

  The driver’s door was unlocked so I climbed inside. I checked the glove box and found a car registration and insurance information. Heather Mason? Why did that name sound familiar?

  My heart thumped in my chest as I sat there, looking out the windshield. Trees everywhere, so tall and thick I could barely see the stars in the night sky. The flashlight flickered and began to fade, and I realized the batteries were probably going dead.

  I exited the vehicle and began heading back to the cabin when I heard the voices. I stopped and listened. They were faint, but yes, there were two different voices.

  Marco and a woman. The Heather chick, apparently.

  I shut off the flashlight but held on to it as I moved closer. I could make out a small flicker of light in the distance and the shadows of Marco and the woman. I continued to move closer, inch by inch, as leaves and branches softly crunched underneath me.

  At about fifty yards out, I stopped and crouched behind a tree.

  Marco and the woman had shovels in their hands, digging a hole. The woman was actually standing inside the hole, and I could make out the back of her head with the light of the kerosene lamp on the ground near them.

  How did Marco know this woman?

  What were they digging up? Or, wait. Maybe they were making a fresh hole, to bury something. Money? Drugs? Stolen items?

  When Marco helped the woman get out of the hole, she turned around, and her face glowed faintly in the light.

  I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. No way.

  But it was her. The woman from the farmer’s market with the German shepherd. Her dreadlocks were tied up in a bun, but I was sure it was her.

  My chest tightened to the point I thought I might start hyperventilating. This didn’t make sense at all.

  Unless …

  When their conversation picked up again, I was able to hear their words this time.

  “I think this is good enough.” Marco tossed his shovel to the side, wiped his hands on his jeans, and then he and the woman stared down into the hole.

  “Are you sure?” she said. “We don’t want any wild animals digging up bones.”

  “Trust me,” he said, “no wild animal could get through five feet of dirt.”

  “We wouldn’t have to do this if your girlfriend had just eaten the damned blueberry muffin instead of feeding it to her dog.”

  Her words hit me like a punch in the gut. The bitch had poisoned the muffin she gave me?

  And then it began to make sense in a twisted sort of way. That’s why Kippy got so sick. It wasn’t the sugar. There was some kind of poison he ate.

  But it wasn’t the dog they wanted to poison. It was me.

  Marco and Heather wanted me dead. That’s why they were digging a hole. To bury my body.

  I had to cover my mouth with a hand before I puked all over the place. This was no time to panic. With every ounce of control I had left, I remained quiet and still as I continued to listen.

  “Should we go get her?” Heather said.

  Marco stood there with hands on hips. “Are you sure there isn’t a better way? I don’t like this plan. We never should have come here.”

  “How many times have we discussed this? You want to spend the rest of your life in jail? What will happen to me and Benji? He’s only two months old. You want him to grow up without a father?”

  The words struck me so hard, I had to stop myself from crying out. Marco and this woman had a child together? A two-month-old son named Benji?

  “We have to make her disappear for good this time,” Heather said. “If you ever get arrested, she’s the only person who can testify against you. Just because you think she’s still in love with you doesn’t mean she won’t change her mind. I mean, you found that pepper spray in her bag. Why would she have pepper spray if she trusted you?”

  Marco shook his head. “I know, you’re right, but she never did anything wrong. She doesn’t deserve to die. Besides, as long as she’s in witness protection, she’s not a threat.”

  “Not a threat? Are you kidding me? She threw you under the bus once, and she’ll do it again. Don’t get soft now, Marco. This is the only way we’ll be safe. Now let’s get this over and done with. You think she’s still unconscious?”

  “I put five sleeping pills in her water, so yeah.”

  “Good. Think you can sling her over your shoulder? That’s probably the easiest way to get her out here.”

  “I told you I’d help dig the hole, but I’m not going to put her in the ground. No way. That’s on you.”

  “Look,” she said, “I risked a lot to help you after you killed that girl in Miami. I was the only one who took you in. You owe me everything, and don’t forget it.”

  The woman put her hand behind his neck and pulled him toward her. “Come on, sweetheart. This will be over soon.”

  When she kissed him on the mouth, my stomach heaved, but I forced myself to keep it together.

  I was an idiot for falling into Marco’s trap. He knew that I couldn’t resist him, especially after the sex in the shower. But now I could see him for what he really was. A coward. And a murderer.

  As they headed back to the cabin, I had to make a quick decision. I could make a run for the minivan. The keys were in the ignition. But if I tripped over a branch and fell down, it was all over.

  I stayed right where I was, crouched behind the tree. Marco and Heather passed by me as they headed to the cabin, never looking in my direction. They had no clue, at least not yet. Not until they get inside and find the empty bed.

  I slowly stood up from my hunched position and punched my legs to get the blood flowing.

  My heart was beating fast, and I couldn’t decide what to do. Soon, they’d be in the cabin and see I’m gone.

  Once they were inside the cabin I turned in the opposite direction and ran farther into the woods. I could barely see anything, but I just kept going, holding onto tree branches for support as I went.

  I was too scared to stop and look behind me. Don’t stop! Move legs. Keep going. You can do this.

  Finally, in the far distance I saw something. A structure. Was it a house or another cabin? There where lights on inside, so maybe someone was home. But it was far away. I stopped to catch my breath. Sweat stung my eyes so I wiped them with the bottom of my shirt. If I could just make it to that house, I’d call for help. I’d be safe.

  As I took another step forward, my foot came down onto something hard and sharp, and it stopped me cold. Then excruciating pain. The worst bone-crushing pain I’d ever known. It felt like my foot had been severed.

  My legs went limp, and I fell to the ground.

  And then I felt nothing at all

  .

  Chapter 15

  Sarah

  Two police cruisers from The Northwood Police Department, followed by two other unmarked sedans, pulled up and parked in the vacant lot at the abandoned gas station where I had been waiting for them.

  Detective James was in one of the unmarked vehicles, and he introduced me to the two deputy marshals who would be making the arrest: Donovan and Lisowski.

  Then he introduced me to the local police officers, Patrick and Marley.

  “Do we know if the suspects are armed?” Marshal Donovan asked me.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I would assume they have means to protect themselves.”

  Marshal Donovan referred to his phone and said, “So we have two suspects, a male named Marco Diaz and female Heather Mason. Plus Molly Fisher who is in WITSEC.”
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br />   “Correct,” I said. “I believe Molly was brought here against her will. Or, at least, she was tricked into coming here. I have reason to believe that her life is in danger, and time is of the essence. I’ve been able to pinpoint their location, approximately one-quarter of a mile east. The large rock marks the dirt road. If it’s OK with everyone, I’d like to be there when you make the arrests.”

  There wasn’t much time for discussion, so they agreed to let me tag along. “Just stay back and out of the way,” Marshal Donovan said, “and there shouldn’t be a problem, understand, Ms. Woods?”

  “I sure do.”

  Everyone got ready, putting on bulletproof vests and holstering weapons. Flashlights were passed around along with two-way radios and plastic ties to use as handcuffs. James had an extra gun in his car for me, plus an extra Kevlar vest. It was a man’s size, but the velcro straps helped to make a better fit. Before I knew it, the group of men had spread out and were heading down the road toward the large rock .

  It was fully dark out. I could hear bats making ticking sounds from up in the trees. Mosquitoes buzzed around my head, but I paid them no mind because my focus was razor sharp.

  About a quarter of a mile into the dirt road, a cabin could be seen in the distance, but no lights on inside. I heard one of the officers whisper for everyone to spread out.

  The men fanned out to approach the property from all sides, with guns cocked, while James and I stayed back about fifty feet.

  Within a minute, I could see the two vehicles: the white pickup and the minivan. One of the officers quickly flashed his light inside both vehicles, then crouched down to flash his light underneath, back and forth a few times. He made a signal with his hand, letting us know all was clear.

  Marshal Donovan was the first to arrive at the cabin door. He knocked once, announced who he was. When there was no response, he tried the handle and it opened. The agents entered the cabin while the local officers stayed outside and circled around back.