by Terry Shames
It’s full-on dark now, and if there’s going to be a moon, it isn’t up yet. The area around the house is not kept up well, and the footing is treacherous, clods of dirt and rocks to be navigated. I almost run into a bale of wire that’s practically invisible in the dark. Off to my right is the structure that looks like a barn that Maria mentioned. It’s big enough to keep more than one car in. The big double doors are closed, though, and there are no windows on the side facing me. The two cars that were parked in front of Lucy Nettleman’s house the first time I talked to her are parked nearby. Lucy is no longer missing, I think.
As I near the back, I start to make out voices, at least two. The nearest trees are way at the back of the house, but the tree frogs are making such a racket that it’s hard to make out any words.
I step around to the back door and crouch down up against the house to avoid being seen from the windows. Maria is peering around the other side. Light from the windows in the back throws pale rectangles of light onto the bare, grassless yard. There’s a chicken coop several yards back toward the trees, but I don’t hear any sounds that would indicate the coop is in use.
I take a deep breath to steady myself and then hold up my hand to indicate to Maria that I want to listen to whatever’s going on inside. I’m suddenly aware that there are good aromas coming from the house. It smells like stew and maybe bread. It would be quite a comedown if we’re wrong and all that’s going on here is two women making a meal for themselves.
And then we both hear it, clear as day: Loretta’s voice. “I don’t know if this is going to be fit to eat, since you forgot to get the carrots.” She’s alive.
Maria heard it too. Our eyes meet, and she nods vigorously, pumping her fists in exultation.
Loretta’s voice sounds normal. I’d be tempted to think she was here of her own volition. A swarm of thoughts races through my head. Will they have a gun on her? Will they shoot her if I surprise them? Are both Lucy and her daughter in on this?
Very slowly, I ease myself up, staying to the side of the window, out of the line of sight. It’s possible that one of the women could look out at the wrong time and see me, but as long as I move slowly, I hope I won’t draw attention. The strain is almost too much. I’m tempted to just stand up and look inside.
When I get a clear visual, I can hardly believe my eyes. Loretta is standing at the stove with Holly Nettleman next to her. Lucy is sitting at a big, wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. She’s watching the two women. I can only see her from the side, but her mouth is turned down. Her arms are crossed tight across her chest.
I risk a few more inches so I can take in more of the women. Holly is intent on whatever Loretta is doing. No one appears to be holding a weapon of any kind, although there is a knife and cutting board on the counter out of reach. It looks as if Loretta is moving freely, so why didn’t she just leave? And then I see the iron cuff around Loretta’s ankle and the long chain attached to it. It’s not a heavy chain, but it doesn’t need to be. Loretta is not a big or strong woman.
“Come on,” I whisper loud enough for Maria to hear me, gesturing with my arm. “We’re going in.”
I walk up the back steps and bang on the door. Through the glass pane in the door, I see the three women freeze. I bang again, open the screen door, and try the handle of the back door. It opens and I walk in.
Lucy jumps up, and her daughter squeals and takes off for the front of the house. Maria streaks past me. I’m focused on Loretta. When she turns, I see the toll her ordeal has taken on her. Her face is haggard, her hair bedraggled. “Oh, Samuel,” she says, her voice breaking.
I hear shouting in the front room, and only then does it occur to me that Lucy might have been running to fetch a weapon. I charge into the front room and find Maria standing in front of a closed closet door.
“Come out of there!” Maria hollers.
I hear an ominous “click,” and I grab Maria and pull her aside at the same time a rifle shot rings out, and a bullet slams through the closet door.
We stumble back toward the kitchen doorway. “Get back there and call Bryan PD,” I say. I pull my Colt.
“What are you going to do?”
“Never mind. Just get on back there and call. And try to find a key to get that leg cuff off Loretta.”
When she walks away, I realize my hand is shaking. That was a close one. If I hadn’t come in when I did, Holly might have shot Maria. “Holly,” I say loudly, “I want you to put the gun down and walk out of there.”
Another click and another shot. This one is at an angle as if she’s trying to reach me.
Footsteps run toward me from the kitchen. I jerk my head to see Lucy barreling toward me. I grab her as she hurtles past, almost yanking her off her feet. She tries to pull free, but I hold her back and force her into the next room.
“Did you shoot her?” she says, wild-eyed.
“I haven’t fired my gun. That’s your daughter shooting. She’s in the hall closet.”
Lucy clamps her hands over her mouth, and her face crumples. Her voice rises in a wail. “I didn’t even know it was loaded. That was her daddy’s rifle.”
“Take it easy; nobody’s hurt. You know what kind of rifle it is?”
“A regular rifle.”
“I mean, how many rounds of ammunition does it hold?”
She looks at me as if I’ve asked her how many miles it is to Rome. “I don’t have any idea.”
More than one anyway, but it’s probably a basic rifle like most people keep for killing snakes. Which means it likely hasn’t got more than a few rounds in it. But I can’t take that chance. “Holly, your mamma is here. She’s worried about you.”
Silence.
I whisper to Lucy. “Say something soothing to her.”
She wrestles with her thoughts and finally says, “Holly, you need to come out now. I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.”
“Stay away from me,” Holly snarls. “This is all your fault.”
Lucy lowers her head into her hands and whimpers. I wonder how this situation came to be, but now is not the time to ask.
I motion for Lucy to follow me a few steps inside the kitchen. I look back and see Maria hovering over Loretta, who is sitting in a chair at the table, watching us. “Do you have the key to Loretta’s leg cuff?” She nods.
“Then get in there and unlock it.”
She shoots me a furious look. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to see to it that neither one of you does any more damage.”
“You won’t hurt her?”
“Seems like she’s doing a fine job of that all by herself.”
Off in the distance, I hear sirens. I hope they’re headed in this direction. I keep an eye on the closet door, with an occasional glance to make sure Lucy is following my order for her to get Loretta free.
As soon as the cuff is off, Loretta stands up and looks toward me. Her haggard expression pierces me. I’d love to comfort her, but I put up my hand to stop her from coming toward me. She nods, and I see her visibly take charge of herself, straightening her shoulders and putting a hand to her hair to smooth it out.
Maria sits Lucy down and handcuffs her to the frame of the chair. Then she turns off the stove burners, where whatever was cooking now smells like it’s scorched. Bizarrely, I notice that it’s the new stove that we found the receipt for.
Maria takes a glass out of the cabinet, fills it with water, hands it to Loretta, and says something to her I don’t hear. Loretta nods.
The sirens get closer, and I walk back near the closet and say, “Holly, the police are on their way. Things will go a lot easier if you come out of there without the rifle.”
“They’ll lock me up.” Her voice is trembling.
“I’m not going to lie. You will have to pay for what you’ve done. But trust me, if you surrender willingly, it will make a difference.”
“If Mamma had just gone on to work like she was supposed to yesterday, nobody would
have known.” Which leads me to suspect that Lucy must have been trying to persuade her daughter not to keep Loretta any longer, but I can’t know that for sure.
“We can sort all that out later.” Cars are squealing to a stop outside, doors slamming. “Listen, if they come in here and you’re holed up with a gun, it will be very bad. Now throw the rifle out and then come out of the closet.” I try to sound firm and trustworthy, even though I’d like to beg. I don’t know many people from the Bryan Police Department, and I don’t know whether I’ll be dealing with an officer who’s a trigger-happy rookie or one who’s nervous or cowardly.
I hear voices outside. They’re no doubt figuring out how to proceed.
“Now’s the time. You don’t have any more time to stall.”
The closet door snicks open. I move off to the side while I still keep an eye on the door, in case she has a wild idea of coming out shooting.
“That’s right. Lay the gun on the floor.”
And she does.
“Push it away with your foot.”
She does. There’s an odd screech outside and then the squawk of a bullhorn.
I still can’t risk that she doesn’t have another weapon. “Now come out with your hands out in front of you so I can see them.”
Gradually, I see the hands, and then she appears, her face a mask of terror.
“Hands up high.”
She hesitates.
“Now!”
She complies.
“Now I want you to get down on the floor, face down.”
“No!”
“If the police officers outside feel like they have to shoot, you’ll be in the line of fire.” She glances back toward the closet, and I have to act. I pounce on her and force her down to the floor. “Now, stay there.”
“You outside,” I holler. “This is Samuel Craddock from Jarrett Creek Police Department. Everything is under control. No need to use your weapons.”
“Craddock?” The voice comes over the bullhorn.
“That’s right. Who am I speaking to?”
“This is Chief Bob Laguna from Bryan. We’ve met.”
“Good. Let’s take this slow. The suspect is unarmed.”
“Understood.”
From the kitchen, I hear Lucy sobbing. Maria comes up behind me. “You want me to go out with you?”
“That will be good, but be cautious. Open the door a little.”
“My deputy is opening the door,” I call out. “Her name is Maria Trevino.”
She eases the door open, keeping to one side in case somebody gets nervous and pulls off a shot, and then she kicks it wider.
“All right, come on out,” Laguna says.
“Get up,” I say to Holly. “No fast moves. One step at a time.” I pull her to her feet. She’s shaking so hard she can hardly stand.
From the kitchen, Lucy shouts, “Please don’t hurt her.”
“Craddock, what’s happening?” Laguna yells.
“My deputy and I are going to bring the suspect out now,” I holler back. I motion for Maria to help. “Let’s go on each side of her.” I take one of Holly’s arms, and she takes the other. Holly tries to wrench away, but it’s a half-hearted effort. Then she goes limp. We hold on and half-drag her out. Within seconds, we are swarmed by half a dozen officers. They cuff Holly, who starts howling.
From the kitchen, Lucy is screaming not to hurt her daughter. I hear Loretta say, “Oh, shut up.” It does my heart good.
Chief Laguna directs a couple of officers to get Holly into a squad car and sends men back inside with Maria to arrest Lucy as well. “What the hell has been going on here?” he asks.
I give him the short version and suggest that the two women be transported separately so they don’t have a chance to talk to each other. We have to move away from the squad cars because we can’t hear each other over Lucy and her daughter hollering. I also ask him to contact Bobtail Police Department. “Talk to Brent Hogarth. He’s in charge of the Farquart investigation. He’ll probably want to come over here.”
“Take these two women to headquarters,” Laguna says to his officers. “I’ll be along directly. And don’t let them consult with each other.”
When they leave, he says, “We’re going to have to get the Feds involved, so they may have a wait.”
“Why is that? Kidnapping is a state crime as long as they didn’t cross state lines, which they didn’t.”
“That may be, but using the Internet to trap somebody makes it different. The state passed a new law last fall, and I don’t know exactly what it means. But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“You’re right. They’re lucky it isn’t murder too,” I say. “I’m going to leave you to it. I’m going to take the victim back home now.”
“I don’t know whether I can let you do that. We need to get a statement.”
“Tell you what. Loretta is pretty shook up. She has been through a lot. I can have Deputy Trevino stay with her overnight, and we’ll bring her in tomorrow.” I try to act casual and not push him, but I suspect he hears the determination in my voice. Loretta has been through enough. I’m taking her home right now.
“We can work with that,” he says. “It will take that long for the Feds to get back to me anyway. For now, I’m going to get a forensic team together to start gathering evidence. You want to be involved?”
“Not necessary. I’m sure you’ve got it under control.”
Maria and I sit in the kitchen with Loretta, Maria holding her hand, until she feels settled down enough to get in the car. We don’t ask her any questions, and all she volunteers is, “I was scared to death I’d be stuck here forever.” I don’t know whether she was afraid of being killed or not, and I don’t ask.
I tell them to wait while I go get my pickup. Maria argues that she ought to be able to drive Loretta back because she has the more comfortable car, but I counter with the fact that I’ve known Loretta a lot longer. Loretta pats Maria’s hand and says the pickup will be fine.
Maria plays her trump card. “Dusty is in the pickup.”
“Well, that silly dog will just have to move over and make room,” Loretta says.
There are still a couple of squad cars outside, and Laguna says the forensics van is on its way. I tell him I want to know if Loretta’s and Elaine Farquart’s cars are in the barn-like building, and he sends one of his men to open the doors. When I get back with my pickup, the doors are standing open. I walk over to the building, and there is Loretta’s car, next to a red one that I expect is Elaine’s.
Loretta and I wait inside the house while Maria fetches the squad car. We want to drive back in tandem. It seems important to make a procession of it.
Loretta and I don’t say much while we wait. She tells me she needs to be quiet for a while, that she still can’t believe her ordeal is over. I’m glad when Maria honks her horn, signaling that she’s back.
“There’s a cat around here,” Loretta says, when we’re walking out the door. “Don’t leave it without any food and water.”
“One of us will come back to check on the cat,” I say.
When we get out to my truck, before we climb in, Hogarth comes wheeling up. He and Marks leap out of the car and come over to us. He grabs Loretta’s hand, and for a minute he’s too overcome with emotion to say anything. Then he clears his throat and says, “I’m Brent Hogarth, Bobtail Police Department. I’m awfully glad to see you made it out of this ordeal.”
Loretta looks him in the eye. “You and me both.”
He meets my eyes, and we chuckle. “You told me if anybody could survive this, she could.”
You would think that Loretta is Dusty’s favorite person. When I open the door to the pickup, he jumps out and leaps around joyfully. I’m reminded of when we were in Darlene’s beauty shop, and I wonder whether he did that because his nose told him that Loretta had been there.
When I order him into the truck, he leaps onto the seat and lies down, quiet, as if sensing that Loretta can�
�t handle much in the way of excitement. When she gets in, she pets him. “You’re a good dog,” she says.
We’re halfway home before I hand her my cell phone. “You better call your son, Scott. Your boys are half out of their minds with worry.”
CHAPTER 35
I know things have gotten back to normal when I get back to the house from feeding my cows and see Loretta walking up the front steps, holding a plate. From the smell, I know she has brought cinnamon rolls for the first time since she got back home a week ago.
“I thought it was time I got back to my routine,” she says. On this fine spring day, we sit out on the porch and drink coffee while I savor a roll. She won’t have one, as usual.
We talk about nothing in particular. I tell her that Connor and Maria are still squabbling. And I tell her that a representative of the dating website Smalltownpair called to tell me that “management” had decided that if I wanted information on any of their clients, then I’d have to get a court order. We both laugh, but it’s an uneasy laughter.
She told me that for now she’s too embarrassed to discuss with me what led her to decide to go on the dating website, and she’s still upset about what happened to Elaine Farquart. At one point, she said, “If both of us hadn’t been foolish and signed up for blind dates, she’d still be alive, and I wouldn’t have been scared half out of my wits. It probably took five years off my life.” In time I will tell her how much everyone admires how she held up under the pressure of being kidnapped and being held by a young woman who was clearly unhinged.
I still can’t quite wrap my mind around what those two women did. I was allowed to sit in on the interrogations. It came out that Lucy was so bitter that her husband had found a new woman on an Internet dating site that she fantasized aloud about how to get revenge. She told her daughter several times that she was going to sign up on a dating site in a man’s name and lure women, like the one who stole her husband, to meet her and she’d kill them.