by Helen Gray
“Okay. The first indication the preacher was missing was when he didn’t show up at the bank Monday morning after the festival to deposit the money they made from it—and hadn’t been at his church. He usually spent some time in the office there on Mondays. Neighbors said he wasn’t around at all Sunday night—his car was never seen. At first no one thought too much of it. Then he didn’t show up for a meeting—or church the next Sunday—and his people became worried, thinking he’d gotten sick or had an accident.”
“Wasn’t foul play even considered?”
“I don’t think so,” he said thoughtfully. “Until his mother came down looking for him and reported him missing, everyone had pretty much accepted the rumor that he had taken off with the town’s money.”
“His killer either started the rumor, or simply took full advantage of it.”
“He was entered in the missing person system and his license plate flagged, but by that time his house had been emptied.”
Toni had a new thought. “I wonder what moving company was used.”
“I’ll do some checking,” he said, a tinge of optimism entering his tone.
“So nothing turned up and the story went cold,” she concluded.
“No one we talked to knew anything, and there was no evidence of anything really bad. We considered everything, but we couldn’t devote time and resources forever.”
“You had to drop it, and life went on.”
“Until your students found him. The location makes me think the killer’s a man. I can’t see a woman carrying the body across that low creek and up under the bridge to that location.”
“Do you think it was an act of sudden rage or passion, or that it was planned?” she asked.
“I vote for sudden,” he said thoughtfully. “A premeditated murder would have had a plan for disposing of the body. Someone was too panicked to dig a proper grave. He apparently just scooped out a trench along the back of that old log and shoved the log and debris over it. Predators got to it easily.”
“Was Goldman involved in something illegal and fighting over money? Or was he onto something and someone needed to shut him up? Good guy? Bad guy? Or just in the wrong place at the wrong time?” Toni enumerated, spreading her palms in a questioning gesture.
“I don’t know, but we’ll keep digging, and hope it comes together.”
There was a lull in the rain just then.
“Thanks for tagging along and bouncing theories with me,” he said, dismissing her.
Toni made a dash for her van.
Chapter 17
The next afternoon Toni made a point of arriving at the game early. John was to meet Gabe and Garrett and send them to join her after they got out of class. She hiked to the edge of the field where the team was preparing it for play. They had spread fine-grained calcified clay on the wet dirt and were now raking it.
Coach Hopper stood in the dugout keeping an eye on the boys while talking on a cell phone. Toni waited until he finished before approaching him, “May I speak to Dack, Jeremy, and Q? I won’t keep them but a couple of minutes.”
He pocketed the phone. “Sure. They’re about done. Hey, Dack,” he called. “You and your pals come here.”
When they put their rakes down and trotted over, the coach went on out to the field.
“What’s up, Mrs. Donovan?” Dack asked.
She got right to the point. “Chief Freeman says Nurse Vickers called and complained about you guys bothering her. He asked me to talk to you. I thought you weren’t going to get in any trouble.”
Guilty looks crossed their faces, and Dack swallowed whatever he had been prepared to tell her—probably about their latest ventures. Jeremy and Q glanced at him, but kept silent.
“We didn’t do anything except ask her if she has any idea what happened to Reverend Goldman,” Dack said. “After all, she was supposed to be his girlfriend. She wouldn’t talk to us, so we left.”
“Sorry,” Jeremy muttered.
Q frowned and gave her a me-too nod.
“Okay, I said I would mention it to you, and I have. I think from now on you boys should wait for Chief Freeman to let you know if there’s something he wants you to do before jumping into things on your own. Now, here’s something on a different note. Dack, your grade was changed, and the hacker is out of business.”
“It was Bonnie, wasn’t it?” Jeremy said glumly.
Toni stared at him in surprise. “You knew?”
“No,” he said slowly. “It was just a guess. I knew the changes were being done after school. You checked on my after school whereabouts,” he reminded her. “I knew she was real good with computers, and I know her husband left her a few months ago. Has she lost her job?”
“I’m afraid so,” Toni confirmed. “But Mr. Douglas isn’t going to recommend prosecution. He thinks losing her job is punishment enough.”
“Word will probably get out,” Jeremy said. “But it won’t come from me.”
“Or me,” Dack added. Q made a me-too head motion.
“Go on out there and win it,” she said, turning and leaving them.
Toni returned to the front entrance, paid her admission at the clerk’s table, and then found a seat at the top of the bleachers. It was ten rows up, but the railing was comfortable against her back. She stared unseeingly at the field where the players were warming up, her mind grappling with disconnected threads.
Wendy Rutherford was still at the top of her suspect list, even if it seemed likely that a man had killed Goldman. The woman had definitely lied, and she was strong and athletic. But there could have been more than one person involved. Toni really couldn’t see what the mayor had to gain. A zoning argument was hardly cause for murder. Members of his church? She didn’t think so. His girlfriend, Madison Vickers, had to be on the list, and Donnie Fisher had sold the man’s car. He could easily have made up the anonymous caller. She knew almost nothing about Mr. Ryker’s personal life, so she needed to see what more she could find out about him.
“Hi, Beautiful.”
Startled from her thoughts, Toni looked around to see her husband grinning up at her. He climbed up and settled in next to her, giving her a circumspect hug. “I just got in and figured this was where I had to come if I wanted to see you.”
They chatted, and Toni filled him in on her week while they waited for the game to start. “Would you mind taking the boys home with you after the game?” she asked. “I’d like to see if I can talk to Keith Ryker.”
“I can handle that if you’ll rub my back tonight.” He did a Groucho Marx thing with his eyebrows.
Toni elbowed him. “You got a date.”
“Hmm. In that case I’ll pick up some Chinese.”
“Hey, Dad!” Gabe rounded the stands and climbed up to join them. He gave his dad a hug. “We need money for the gate.”
Toni fished out enough for both boys and handed it to Gabe while Garrett got his hug from Kyle. “I’ll go pay for both of us,” Gabe said, taking off at a run.
The game was definitely not a squeaker. By the end of the third inning Clearmount was leading six to nothing. In the fifth inning they scored four more runs, and the game was declared over according to the ten run rule. They would play in the first round of sectionals Wednesday.
When Kyle and the boys headed for home, Toni drove to the Ryker Steak House. When she asked to speak to Mr. Ryker, the cashier informed her that he had gone home. Knowing where he lived, since she drove past it on her way to and from school, Toni decided to call on him there. Just as she rang the doorbell of the huge house, she realized that she had to be back at the school in a little over an hour for the awards program. It was a good thing the game had ended early. She was thankful for the lighter load of paperwork and class preparation at this point in the school year, but the frantic pace of the activity calendar still had her running in circles.
“Yes?” A tall, thin-faced man peered out at her.
“Good evening, Mr. Ryker. I’m Toni Donovan,” she s
aid, extending a hand. “Do you have a minute to talk to me?”
He reached forward and shook the hand, but he didn’t invite her inside. “That’s all the time I can spare. I should be leaving now for a meeting.” He glanced at his watch.
“I’m working with the chief of police, trying to learn more abut Reverend Goldman’s associates and his activities the last weeks of his life.”
“I really can’t help you,” he cut her off abruptly.
“Some of his church members are concerned about his and your relationship,” she persisted. “They’ve heard accounts of the two of you arguing in public. Some of your associates and customers, on the other hand, have reported seeing him coming to your business and arguing with you there.”
“We disagreed on some things—zoning, financial management—just about everything that came up in the community. I’m sorry for that, but there’s nothing I can do to change things. He’s dead. Let’s leave him in peace.”
“What about…”
“I really do have to go,” he said softly, and shut the door.
Toni heaved a sigh, feeling she had learned absolutely nothing—except that the man had more on his mind than he was telling. He was deliberately evading her.
She rushed home, gulped a few bites, and made it back to school just in time for the awards program, having left Kyle and the boys playing wiffle ball in the backyard. Because of the crowded calendar, the athletic and academic awards were being presented on the same night. That made such a lengthy program that they were serving simple refreshments afterward instead of doing banquets like in past years.
*
A dark colored car sat at the edge of the parking lot in the fading light, a figure behind the wheel, watching as people parked and went inside. When traffic stopped flowing into the lot and there were no more people moving out of cars and into the building, the silent watcher emerged and walked over to the next row of vehicles. He stopped where the Lakowski kid’s blue pickup was parked. After a slight pause and a furtive glance around, he pulled a tool from the front of a work shirt, sank to the concrete surface, and scooted under the truck.
A few minutes later the figure sidled out from under the vehicle, tucked the tool back inside his work shirt, and returned to the dark car at the edge of the lot. The car rolled away.
*
When the awards program ended at ten o’clock, people came spilling out of the building. It was now dark, but the front of the building and the parking lot were well lit. Soon the lot was a mass of beaming headlights and moving vehicles.
“Hey, Q, way to go.” Dack slapped his pal on the back. “The outfielder gold glove award. Good job. A bunch of the gang is meeting out at the park campground. You and Jeremy wanta go out there?”
Q shrugged. “Sure.”
“Sounds like fun,” Jeremy seconded.
They made a beeline for Q’s pickup and climbed inside.
“When will you get your car out of the shop? Tomorrow?” Jeremy asked Dack from the back seat where he was buckling his seat belt.
“Supposed to,” Dack answered without turning around.
Q backed the truck up and pulled into the exiting line of vehicles. After three or four stops and starts they reached the highway, and he turned east onto it.
“Barry and Melissa are talking about getting married,” Jeremy said as they picked up speed.
Dack groaned. “If they do that, he’ll never go on to college like he’s always planned.”
“How about you?” Jeremy asked. “Has your gal ever pushed the idea of getting married right after graduation?”
Dack frowned and twisted around in the seat. “It was mentioned one time, and I told her no way. I’m gonna…”
"Hey!" Q yelped, tapping the brake with his foot as they topped a hill on a curve. Then he started stomping on it, gripping the steering wheel tighter. But the truck continued to pick up speed down the hill.
“What’s wrong?” Dack yelled.
“No brakes,” Q yelled back, slamming his foot up and down on the brake pedal in panic.
“There’s a car!” Jeremy pointed at the red taillights ahead of them.
Q laid on the horn and gripped the wheel desperately. “Hang on!”
He pulled into the left lane, and the truck began to careen wildly around the car. Just as he reached its front bumper, they saw lights coming toward them.
“Car coming,” Dack screamed, bracing his feet against the floorboard and his hands against the dash.
His face rigid, Q shoved the gas pedal to the floor, shooting ahead of the car they were passing. He swerved right into the front of it, barely squeezing in before meeting the oncoming car head on.
The car they had passed ran off the shoulder of the road, and then careened back onto the highway. Tires screeched, and the car bounced from the driver’s panicked braking.
Still out of control, Q's pickup hit the shoulder of the road and fishtailed in loose gravel. He tried to regain control, but a tire dropped over the edge of the ditch. The truck veered off the road, throwing gravel everywhere and sailing forward and sideways. It shot up the far side of the ditch, losing a very small amount of momentum, and hit a telephone pole with an impact that threw all three boys forward with terrifying jolts, heads and bodies bouncing and jerking.
Explosions sounded simultaneously—air bags bursting, metal crumpling, and glass shattering. The air bags hissed as they deflated—and then there was silence. The boys were motionless and silent.
“Q,” Dack moaned softly and pulled his head up. “That was some ride.”
Q’s red mop slowly lifted from the bag-covered steering wheel. His face was streaked with blood. He looked over at Dack, and then into the back seat at Jeremy. “You okay, Jer?”
Jeremy groaned and pulled his head forward with his hands. “I think so,” he groaned.
The air inside the truck was thick with a white smokiness. “That’s cornstarch or talcum powder from the air bags,” Q said, waving a hand in front of his face, proof he still had his wits.
“Are you all right?” a woman shouted, pounding on the window next to Q, her voice shrill with fright. Her features weren’t clear in the dark, but there was a small beam of light shining up onto them from the car she had left parked behind them.
Q rolled his window down. “I think we’re all right, ma’am. Sorry about that.” He made a head motion indicating the action just past. “My brakes went out.”
“I’ll call nine-one-one,” she said, pulling a cell phone from somewhere and proceeding to do so.
Jeremy pushed the rear door open and slid to the ground. Then there was the sound of retching. Dack jumped out to check on him.
Q crawled out next to their Good Samaritan. When he did, he recognized her. “Thank you, Mrs. Price,” he said.
The woman studied him more clearly. “Quint Lakowski?”
He started to nod, but stopped as waves of pain rolled behind his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. I know your daughter, Beth, from school. She’s a grade behind us.” He indicated Dack and Jeremy with a hand motion.
Slowly he walked to the front of his truck, and stared at it in dismay. The grill was crumpled and the windshield shattered. The window next to where Jeremy had been sitting was broken, explaining why he was sick. The crack on the head could have killed him.
Within minutes sirens screamed in the distance. Then the Fire Department’s EMT’s arrived, followed by an ambulance and two police cars. The EMT’s checked each of them and said they should be taken to the clinic to be checked out, even though all three boys insisted they were fine.
They were still debating the issue when Buck Freeman appeared and asked what they were arguing about. “Get a medical check,” he ordered when an EMT explained.
“I want to call my dad to come get the truck,” Q insisted before yielding.
“Okay, but make it quick,” Buck said. “Tell him where you’re headed. I’ll call and be sure there's medical personnel there to meet you.”
When they arrived at the emergency entrance of the clinic, Faye Nash met them. “Mrs. Nash, will you call your daughter and tell her we’re here?” Dack asked as they were escorted inside.
“I’m ahead of you,” she informed him. “I called her right after I got the call to come in and learned who my patients would be. Now crawl up there.” She jabbed a finger at the examination table.
The three boys obeyed, and sat side by side on the table, feet dangling. Her examination revealed mostly cuts and bruises. Q had a sore chest and a split lip. Dack had a gash on his forehead and sore knuckles from hitting the dashboard. Jeremy had a huge goose egg on the back of his head.
*
Toni walked into the examination room to find her mother applying a bandage to Dack’s forehead. She knew from her call that there had been an accident, but nothing more. “What’s going on?” she asked, rushing to the boys in concern.
“That’s what I want to know,” Buck Freeman said, entering the room behind her. “Tell me what happened.”
“Give him a statement,” Toni said when the boys remained silent.
“When we rounded the top of that hill, I started to slow down for the curve,” Q said. “But I didn’t have any brakes.”
Dack picked up the story and described a harrowing descent down the hill, passing a car, meeting another car, and ending up crossing the ditch and hitting an electric pole.
“Had your brakes been giving you any trouble?” Buck asked, returning his attention to Q.
“No, sir. My truck gets real good treatment and regular checks on everything. My brakes were fine until I got to that hill.”
“About three miles after leaving the school,” Buck mused, thinking aloud. “All right, boys,” he said sternly. “Have you guys been snooping anymore on your own?”
They exchanged guilty looks. “We were out at Charity Haven yesterday,” Dack admitted.
Buck sighed. “Did you talk to anyone?”
They all three shook their heads.
“I did take a picture,” Jeremy admitted. He reached for his cell phone and flipped it open. When he had the picture on the screen, he handed it over.