The Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 7)

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  Almost a minute later, the agents emerged from the cabin, shaking their heads. Marshal Donovan was carrying a backpack. “No sign of a struggle in there. Just this.”

  “That belongs to Molly,” I said. “Did you check inside it?”

  “Just some clothes, toiletries. Food.”

  “They could be half a mile into the woods by now in any direction,” I said. “We might need more manpower to find these guys. Can you make some calls to see if we can get a chopper in the air?”

  “That’s not a bad idea. Could use some reinforcements. Meanwhile, let’s keep searching the grounds. They might still be close by.”

  I flashed my light on the ground to see if there were shoe prints in the dirt, but there were so many it seemed impossible to discern anything from them, or where they led to. “Must be other cabins around here,” I said. “They could be hiding out in one of them.”

  Just then, one of the officers called out from a few hundred feet away. “Found something over here. Might want to take a look at this.”

  I swallowed hard and steeled myself for the worst news. We rushed over to the small clearing behind the cabin where the officer was standing, looking down.

  “What do you make of this?” Marshal Donovan said when we got there. “We looking at a gravesite?”

  I held my breath as I peered down into the massive hole. When I saw that it was empty, I exhaled. “Thank God nobody’s in it.”

  “The hole is fresh,” James said, pointing to the two shovels lying next to his foot. “I think it’s safe to assume that this was intended for Molly. Must’ve been a change of plans.”

  “They probably saw us coming with the flashlights and decided to take Molly and split.”

  “I hate to say this, but Molly could already be dead. Though they’d have a tough time transporting her body anywhere, especially over this terrain.”

  “Or she could have escaped,” I said, trying to stay positive. “She might be wandering the woods alone, looking for a house or another cabin to call for help.”

  “I doubt there are any land line phones out here,” James said, “but if Molly escaped then we need to find her before Marco and Heather do.”

  “Then let’s spread out and find them.” Marshal Donovan signaled to the two officers to head east and north, then he turned to me and James. “Someone should stay here in case the suspects try to come back for the vehicles.”

  “Roger that,” James said. “Sarah and I will stay here and keep a lookout.”

  Once the men had dispersed, James walked around the pickup, opened the door, and flashed his light inside. He opened the glove box and searched inside it. “Hey, look at this.”

  I went over and saw the pepper spray canister in his hand. I said, “That’s the one I gave her this morning. Marco must’ve taken it from her.”

  James handed it to me. “I guess it didn’t do her much good, then.”

  I put the pepper spray in my jeans pocket. “I can’t believe Molly agreed to come out here. She probably had no idea about Heather Mason.”

  “It’s a good thing you went to her apartment this afternoon and followed her out here. If Molly survives, she’ll have you to thank.”

  As much as I appreciated his words, I couldn’t help but feel regret. I should have stopped her from getting into that pickup with Marco.

  “It’s possible that he drugged her at the apartment, to make her more agreeable to his suggestions.”

  “Did she seem drugged out when you saw her get into his pickup?”

  “Not particularly. Hard to say, though.”

  “Well,” he said, “maybe he drugged her after they got here. And then once she passed out, he called Heather to come and help him finish digging the grave.”

  “Right. But maybe the drugs didn’t stick, and she escaped while they were digging.”

  James nodded. “We can only hope that’s the case.”

  I leaned against the pickup to rest and wipe the sweat from my face. “I’ve never worn a Kevlar vest before. These things are heavy, and I’m sweating like a pig. Plus, these mosquitoes are driving me insane.”

  “No kidding,” he said, slapping his arm and then his neck.

  “Mind if I go into the cabin and have a look around. Maybe there’s some bug spray in there.”

  “Fine by me.”

  As I entered the cabin, the smell was so bad that it stung my eyes. How could anyone spend time in this place, let alone sleep in here? It smelled like the worst Porta-Potty I’d ever been in.

  The kitchen area looked bare, no remnants of food on the counters. No dishes or sponges in the sink, either.

  There wasn’t much furniture. Just a few lawn chairs, and a makeshift cardboard table. There was a wood stove set up in the corner, with a pile of kindling next to it.

  Moving into the bedroom, what appeared to be a blow-up mattress had fresh-looking sheets and pillows. So, somebody had been sleeping here. Or, at least, it was made to look that way.

  I noticed the empty water bottle on the ground near the bed, but there were no other indications that people were staying here. No luggage or bags, no clothing, no shoes. And no bug spray.

  I kept asking myself the same question. Why would Molly come out here with Marco? This couldn’t be anyone’s idea of a romantic weekend in the woods.

  As I walked back into the main living area, I scanned the room one more time, then went back outside.

  Molly must have been completely mortified when Marco brought her here—the no-frills cabin, the outhouse overflowing with excrement. Did she have any idea that he’d been plotting her demise?

  I didn’t think so. I had to believe that she simply trusted him because she still loved him. Like they say, love is blind.

  As I walked past the outhouse I heard a sound that made me stop in my tracks. I turned and flashed the light on the dilapidated structure. It could have been some little woodland creature or a bird trapped inside. There were air vents cut into the wood on the top of the door, and it’s possible a bird had flown in there, although I couldn’t imagine why.

  And then I heard the noise again, faint, but it was definitely coming from inside the outhouse. Sounded like muted retching ... not a sound that an animal or bird would make. I was no wildlife expert, but I could tell the difference between an animal sound and a human sound.

  I turned around and headed toward James, who was leaning against the pickup talking on the two-way.

  He looked up and said, “Just spoke to Marshal Donovan and the others. No luck so far with the search. And I guess you didn’t find any bug spray.”

  Once I was next to him, I spoke in a low, calm voice, letting him know that this was serious. “This is going to sound crazy, but I think someone is inside the outhouse. I heard a retching sound.”

  He gave me a wide-eyed stare. “Maybe a bat flew inside and can’t get out.”

  “What if our suspects are hiding in there? Or, at least, one of them?”

  “Are you kidding me? They’d have to be standing in a mound of dung.”

  “I realize that,” I said. “but they might have had no other choice. I flashed my light down on the ground near the door and didn’t see any distinctive footprints, but maybe there’s a small opening in the back where they were able to climb inside. It’s a perfect place to hide, if you think about it. Who’d ever suspect it?”

  James got on his two-way radio and said in a lowered voice, “Hey, guys. Sarah and I request assistance if anyone is close by the cabin. Could be nothing, but back-up would be appreciated.”

  “Roger that,” said one of the officers a second later. “I’m ‘bout a few hundred feet out. I’ll be there in a few.”

  James grabbed his Glock and flashlight. “Wait here. I’m going to check the perimeter of the outhouse.”

  “Keep a safe distance. We have no idea if Marco or Heather have guns.”

  I held my breath and watched as he slowly circled the outhouse, staying about twenty feet away from the
structure.

  When he came back, he said, “There’s an opening on the side of the structure where the wood looks rotted out. Could be big enough for a small person to fit through there. I didn’t want to be obvious and flash my light right in there, in case you’re right, but there appears to be some scuff marks in the dirt around the area.”

  When Officer Patrick came out of the woods, James explained the situation to him. “I don’t suppose you happen to have a canister of tear gas in your cruiser?”

  He shook his head. “This is Northwood, New Hampshire, not New York City.”

  “Maybe the pepper spray will work,” I said. “There’s little ventilation in there, so a few sprays of this stuff will be enough to render them temporarily blind. They’ll be clawing their way out of there within seconds.”

  James seemed to mull that over. “What if Molly is in there with them?”

  “I don’t think so. There’s barely enough room for two people in that thing.”

  “OK,” he said, “let’s do this.”

  The three of us spread out around the outhouse. Officer Patrick aimed his gun directly at the door as James went around to the rotted spot he found before. On tip toes, I reached up to the vents at the top of the door and pressed the pepper spray canister two times in quick succession.

  I quickly backed away as the sound of coughing erupted from inside the outhouse.

  Heather emerged first through the hole, gasping for breath, snot running down her nose, her hair covered in brown muck. “Don’t shoot,” she managed to utter. “We’re not armed. Just get me the hell out of here.”

  Officer Patrick announced himself as a Northwood police officer, and informed Heather that she was being arrested for harboring a fugitive.

  Marco came out next, his eyes red and puffy as he continued to cough and wheeze. Officer Patrick was able to get him to the ground and cuff him, too.

  “Where’s Molly?” I said. “What did you do to her?”

  Neither of them answered me as they continued to cough and wipe their eyes. I could barely stand to look at them, their clothes and hair smeared with human waste. Man, talk about being desperate to evade the police. This reminded me how far people will go when faced with prison time.

  I crouched down directly in front of Marco and pointed my finger at his nose. “You were at Molly’s apartment today. I saw her get into your pickup and I followed you here. Stop playing dumb, and tell me where she is.”

  I brandished my gun as if I was going to beat him over the head with it, and he flinched. “She ran away,” he said. “I don’t know where she went.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “No, I’m serious,” he said. “She got away.”

  “If you’re right, then you better hope and pray that she’s still alive.”

  My eyes were stinging from the residual pepper spray chemicals floating around, not to mention the other disgusting smell. I needed to get away and breathe some fresh air.

  Marshals Donovan and Lisowski showed up on the scene shortly thereafter, nearly out of breath, but they promptly took over the arrests. All the while pretending that Marco and Heather weren’t covered in poop.

  “The paramedics should be here any minute,” Clark said. “Officer Marley found the girl. He’s got her now.”

  “He found Molly? Where?”

  “About a hundred yards to the north.”

  “Thank God! Is she OK?”

  “I think so. Got her foot caught in an animal trap, so she’s gonna need a doctor.”

  When I saw Officer Marley coming out of the woods, carrying Molly in his arms, she appeared unconscious.

  I waved my hands, motioned for him to bring her into the cabin. “Let’s lay her down on the bed till the paramedics get here.”

  “She must have passed out after her foot got caught,” Officer Marley said, gently lowering her onto the bed. “But I checked her pulse, and it’s strong.”

  I wrapped her up in the sheets and tried to get her as comfortable as possible. “Any other injuries?” I asked.

  “No, there doesn’t appear to be. I’d say she’s a lucky girl.”

  “She’s a fighter, all right.”

  When I heard the sound of the sirens, I leaned over Molly and smoothed the hair out of her face. “Hang in there, kiddo. Help is on the way.”

  Chapter 16

  Sarah

  Forty-five minutes later, I was standing outside of Molly’s hospital room, talking with Marshal Donovan, who had just spoken with the doctor.

  “The raccoon trap she stepped into broke her fibula,” he told me. “Past that, her vitals look good.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. “How long will she have to stay here?”

  “A day or two, at least. They’re a little concerned about infection, but they gave her a tetanus shot, so now we wait and see.”

  “Will she be able to go back to Miami now that Marco is in custody?”

  “That depends,” he replied. “We might need her to testify in the trial, unless he confesses to murdering Maria Consuello. Plus, we’ll need to gauge whether or not the Vice Kings are still a threat. All that will take some time.”

  “Will she be able to stay in Bridgeport? Or will she need to move to another town, under a new identity?”

  “I’m going to do whatever I can to keep her here. I think it’ll be too traumatic to move her again.”

  “I agree.” I nodded toward her room. “When can I go in to see her?”

  “A doctor just told me she’s under mild sedation, and a lot of painkillers, so make it a short visit, OK?”

  I reached out and shook his hand. “It was an honor to work with you, Marshal Donovan. And thanks for trusting me to be a part of the arrests.”

  “Why are you thanking me?” he said with a grin. “It’s thanks to you we have our suspects in custody and Molly is safe.”

  When I entered her room, Molly was sitting up in bed, watching a show on television, her eyes half mast. She looked over at me and gave a tired smile.

  I stood next to her. “How are you feeling?”

  “I was wondering when I’d see you.” Her face showed genuine gratitude, and she reached out for me and held my hand.

  “I’m sorry, Molly. I’m sorry about all of this.”

  “I feel so stupid.”

  “Why? For leaving with Marco?”

  “I really thought Marco still loved me. Should’ve realized it was an act when he said he was going to turn himself in.”

  “You wanted to believe he would do the right thing.”

  “Can’t believe he has a baby with that girl. That girl who tried to poison me with a muffin. Kippy is sick because of her. And I would have died if you hadn’t followed me out to those woods.”

  I figured Marshal Donovan told her that. “It was because you trusted me,” I said. “If you had never confided in me that you were in witness protection, I would’ve had no reason to keep my eye on you. But, I should have stopped Marco from taking you to that cabin in the first place.”

  “What will happen to me now?” Molly leaned her head back onto the pillow and closed her eyes. “I don’t suppose I’ll get to go home.”

  “Probably not for a while. The police need to assess whether or not that gang in Miami is still gunning for you. Once Marco is behind bars, it might be safe for you to go home, but that’s months or even years away depending on if there’s a trial.”

  She opened her eyes and said, “Thanks for looking out for me, Sarah.”

  I gently squeezed her hand. “I’ll continue to look out for you as long as you want me to.”

  She smiled, but I could see that her eyelids were growing heavy again.

  “You need to sleep, Molly. It’s been a long day.”

  “When will I see you again?”

  “I’ll come back tomorrow. Is there anything you want me to bring from your apartment?”

  “My cell phone. I’m sure Chad has been trying to call me ... with an update on Kippy.�
�

  “If you want, I can call Chad first thing in the morning. But either way, I’d be happy to swing by your apartment and get your phone.”

  “Thanks ...” Molly’s eyes were closed now and I figured that was my cue to leave her to rest.

  It would probably be the first time in a year that the poor girl would sleep through the night.

  Chapter 17

  Sarah

  The next morning when I called Chad, I could hear the worry in his voice when I told him I was a friend of Molly’s.

  “My God,” he said, “is she OK? I’ve been trying to get a hold of her since yesterday afternoon.”

  “She had an accident last night and broke her lower leg, but she’s gonna be fine.”

  “What? How’d that happen?”

  “She was hiking in the woods and stepped into a raccoon trap.” I kept the details to a minimum to preserve Molly’s identity. It would be her decision to fill him in later or not.

  “Which hospital?” he asked. “I want to go see her.”

  After I told him the name of the hospital, I added, “Molly is very concerned about Kippy. Would you mind telling me how he’s doing?”

  “That’s why I’ve been trying to get her on the phone. Kippy is back home and doing fine. The Baileys feel bad about firing her, and they want her back.”

  “Molly is going to be thrilled to hear that. She feels so guilty about what happened to the dog.”

  After a short pause, he said, “So, how do you know Molly? I didn’t know she had any other friends.”

  Again, I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I simply said, “We met at the dog park.”

  “That’s cool,” he said, although there was still confusion in his voice. I didn’t blame him for being suspicious of me, since Molly had probably never mentioned my name to him.

  “I don’t know how long she’ll be in the hospital,” I said, “but she’s going to need help getting around when she gets home. Since her apartment is on the second floor, it’s going to be a challenge.”