As I sat on the straw-strewn barn floor rubbing my shoulder, I saw Ray glance in my direction. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and I thought he was glad I wasn't badly hurt.
"Ervin, you knew from the start I left a good half hour before Elaine did. I was on the other side of Roanoke by the time she went to the mountain." Ray leaned against Ervin, pressed him to the floor, and cut off his ability to breathe. Ervin gasped for air, starting to turn blue around the edges.
"Ray, you're killing him," I said.
"Maybe that's my intent." He didn't take his eyes off Ervin's face but released the pressure on his chest, allowing Ervin to pink up.
"Tell me." Ray reapplied the pressure, and Ervin became cyanotic. "After what you've tried to do to me, no one would blame me for hurting you. It'd be worth it."
Ervin spat in Ray's face. Ray wiped the spit on his shirtsleeve and leaned on Ervin's chest. His color changed to gray, then blue.
"Answer me or I'll kill you. Right here. Right now." Ray let up slightly.
"She was with me." The words squeezed out of Ervin's mouth as Ray leaned into him. "We had a fight."
"You killed her." Ray released Ervin and stepped back.
"No, I didn't kill her. We met at my cabin at Craggy Lake. Elaine and I went there once in a while. We fought. She left. I thought she'd gone home. The next day I found out she never made it."
"What did you fight about?"
"None of your friggin' business."
Ray brandished a fist close to Ervin's face, causing Ervin to cringe. "You have four hours to make your meeting with Elaine public knowledge, to clear my name, and to get the investigation on track." He tapped on his watch.
"Or what?" Ervin muttered.
"Or, at exactly three this afternoon, I'll be telling the story and playing the tape for the city manager and for the Parkview Press editor. Sophia will be glad to throw in those digital photos she took at the crime scene—just to sweeten the pot."
Ray pointed to the car, which was visible through the broken barn wall. "Get in the car." He backed away from Ervin and withdrew from the barn, never taking his eyes off the shaky police chief.
Without saying a word, Ray opened the car door, moved the driver's seat back, and eased in behind the wheel. We left the barnyard in a flurry of dust and V-TEC reverberations.
He stopped at the intersection connecting the section line to the main road. Ray reached across in front of me, slipped my tee shirt off my shoulder, and inspected the faint bruise forming over my clavicle. "You okay?"
"Yes."
He shoved the car into gear and put the accelerator to the floor, stopping any attempt at further conversation.
Ray stopped at the motel, waited outside while I packed my suitcase, and drove me to the airport. Neither of us said a word until he stopped in front of the terminal.
I knew he was angry. He had every reason to be. But I was angry, too. He expected me to trust him on blind faith when he was hiding a part of his past that now threatened our lives. Though I felt justified looking for the truth, I was willing to make the first move toward working things out. I touched his arm. "Ray, I'm sorry. I should have trusted you."
"But you didn't. And you never will." He retrieved my bag from the trunk, set it on the curb. Without another word, he sank down into the Honda and drove away.
40
From where I stood, I saw several hotels crowding the airport's perimeter. The rental car lots extended in front of me, filled to the brim with transportation alternatives. I went inside to check on available flights and returned to the curb a few minutes later with reservations on the next available flight to Florida, departing at nine Sunday morning. I wished Ray had talked to me before he left. I had questions about Ervin's attempt to frame Ray, and now I had only twenty hours to find the answers.
I patted the Fusion keys in my pocket, gave my rolling suitcase a jerk to loosen the perpetually stuck wheel, and hurried across the two-lane drive in the direction of the white Ford parked in space thirteen. I stopped at the first hotel I came to, rented a room, and called Suzanne. She wasn't leaving Virginia until Sunday.
The more I thought about it, the stranger it seemed Elaine and Ervin had rendezvoused at his cabin by the lake. Why would she meet Ervin, whom she didn't date any longer, then drive off in a snit only to die in a deserted clearing on the side of a mountain thirty miles north? I was curious about the Craggy Lake cabin. I wanted to see for myself.
I updated Suzanne on my morning's calamity, and she agreed to spend the rest of the day with me. Even better, she knew where the cabin was, having been there a couple of times with Elaine and Ervin.
I didn't want to return to Parkview, so Suzanne checked out of her dinky motel room and moved her things to my hotel. We'd share the room for the night. By mid-afternoon, we were scooting south on the Blue Ridge Parkway, negotiating snakelike curves, and looking over steep drop-offs at towns far below in the valleys. Destination, Craggy Lake.
Suzanne's memory of the exact location of Ervin's cabin was a mite foggy. We found the correct sector of the lake almost immediately, but then wandered around, taking one side road after another, until she saw an intersection that looked familiar.
Meanwhile, numerous half-million-dollar homes nestled into the lake's mountainous periphery wowed us with inventive architecture. Tree-lined access roads maintained a rural flavor but led to cul-de-sacs with steep driveways dropping sharply to homes below. Peeking over the edges revealed shingle or tin roofs covering custom homes with private docks, cedar gazebos, and manicured lawns. Even though the population density was similar to a thinly-spread small town, I was reminded of South Florida gone bumpy.
We stopped at the fifteenth Baptist Church we came upon. Like the others, the white building boasted a prominent steeple. However, this church also had a side structure with a ten-by-ten Sunday School sign.
"There," she said.
I swung onto a dirt road, then negotiated a rutted left-hand turn onto an even narrower path. The trail was muddy, and, given the dense surrounding forest, I didn't expect it would be drying out in the near future. I pulled the Ford to the side, straddling the mud puddle, hoping the tires would ride the center hump and the right shoulder.
"There's his place." Suzanne pointed. "The one with the big tree in front."
"Ah, Suzanne . . ." I laughed and waved my hand in the direction of the row of cabins. Each cabin sat amidst the encroaching jungle, surrounded by huge trees. In South Florida, left undisturbed, everything manmade would return to nature eventually. Here, I wasn't sure, but it looked like that was happening.
"I recognize the really big tree. That's his place."
Not seeing any way to pull off the trail without miring in the mud, I stopped the car and climbed out. There was enough high ground to prevent wading through the muck.
Our first order of business was to check the neighborhood. With what I had in mind, I didn't want any good citizens calling the local constable. Not surprisingly, no one appeared to be around. It was a clear, warm day. Perhaps everyone had gone to the lake to enjoy the weather. Then again, maybe Ervin was the only one who used his property. The other lots didn't look well tended, and given the road, access would be a concern in all but the best weather.
We approached every cabin with a direct line of sight to Ervin's place. They were all locked and empty with For Sale signs hidden in the greenery or posted on the doors.
I studied the street, then turned to Suzanne. "I get it. Only Ervin bought a cabin here. He's a neighborhood of one."
"I don't remember seeing anyone here. It was always just us." She seemed to ponder that for a minute. "I didn't think anything much about it. We were here during the week both times."
The narrow drive leading to Ervin's cabin was dryer than the main trail and partially overgrown with scrubby grass and vines. Keeping to the left, we picked our way single file through the bushes and sprouting trees to the front steps of the cabin.
I nodded in t
he direction of the driveway. "No one has been here in quite a while. Those vines don't look like they've been driven on."
"I agree." Suzanne tripped over a concealed root, regaining her balance without falling.
"Nothing around here looks like anyone has been here for a long time." Thick green moss covered the front porch, except for a small area of dry, bare wood on the east side near the door. I surmised it was in direct sun most of the morning.
I pulled a white handkerchief, compliments of Ray, from my pocket and tried the knob. I didn't know if there was a back entrance, and I wasn't braving the forest to find out. The door held securely, as did the single window that was accessible from the porch.
"Now what?" Suzanne asked. "We made this trip for nothing." She leaned close to the window. "The curtains are drawn. I can't see in."
"Guess we'll open it then." I dug in my purse. "They say with a roll of tape and a bobby pin, a nurse can fix anything. But, in this case, I think I need my picks." I extracted a small leather pouch from the bottom of my bag and made my selection. When her jaw dropped, I explained. "My father owns the hardware store at home and is an excellent locksmith. Having no son, he thought I should learn the trade. I can make a key, install a lock, and . . ." I waved the slim stainless steel magic wand around in the air. "Voilà, I can pick almost any lock in town."
"Ray must love that."
"Ray doesn't know that." When she looked surprised, I continued, "Never any reason to tell him."
I slipped the pick into the keyhole, wiggled it around, and opened the door. It was easy. Cheap lock. Ervin must have decided to save a few bucks.
"You're good." Suzanne moved in behind me. She was in position to look into the cabin.
No fresh footprints marred the fluffy knap of the thick carpet of dust. The worn linoleum flooring hadn't been touched in a long while. Though the lighting was dim, visible dirt covered all the horizontal surfaces. I fired off a dozen shots with my digital camera.
She pointed to a door on the left. "Master bedroom." Then indicating the other two closed doors, she said, "bath, second bedroom. There's a porch out back where you can get a view of the lake and a path to a small dock on the water." She stepped closer.
"Suzanne," I whispered, "don't go inside."
"Why? Don't you want to see what's in those closed rooms?"
"I don't want to leave any marks showing someone was here. I want it to look like it does now."
"What are you thinking?"
"It proves Ervin lied to Ray about meeting Elaine at this cabin. I thought that might be the case. It didn't feel right to me."
Suzanne gave me a wide-eyed look, but didn't argue the point.
Returning to the main road without sinking in the mud was a challenge. I pulled into the parking lot of Baptist Church Number Fifteen and stopped. There were several bars on my cell phone screen indicating strong service.
"What are you going to do now?" Suzanne asked.
"Call Ray."
"He's going to be pissed off."
"Better off than on, I always say. And, Ervin pissed on him but good."
Ray answered his cell phone on the first ring. "What now?"
I rattled off an explanation. "Chief Ervin's cabin hasn't been occupied in quite some time. He lied to you."
"Sophia, get on the damned airplane. Do not interfere. Do not make another mess."
I pushed the disconnect button without saying another word. "He said . . ."
Suzanne reached out and patted my hand. "I know. I heard."
I stared out the window, across the deserted church parking lot, and into the trees beyond. Twilight. I knew I should move, but instead I watched a pair of Virginia deer, a doe and a spotted fawn, getting supper. The doe stood about my chest height at her shoulders and had a rich tan coat. I saw the black dorsum of her tail twitching at invisible tormenters—gnats or mosquitoes, perhaps. When a vehicle backfired on the nearby road, she raised her tail in alarm, revealing the pure white underside and the white markings on her rump. White-tailed deer. As the deer scampered into the trees, I felt a kinship.
"You okay?" Suzanne asked.
"I have to be. What choice?"
The world around me settled into darkness as the setting sun dipped behind the Blue Ridge.
41
After arriving in Coral Bay, I left Kathleen Schneider several messages to call me. I tracked her down at the hospital on Thursday afternoon. Thanks to Connie's update, what I saw in Amber's hospital room wasn't a surprise. Amber, a glow in her cheeks, played with Mikey on the bed. Kathleen sat in a motorized Amigo scooter, a wooden cane with a delicate dogwood pattern carved in relief hooked over the handlebar. A pink ribbon tied in a triple-looped bow adorned the crook of the cane and matched the ribbon in Kathleen's hair.
She smiled when I entered the room. "Sophia," she said, "I was going to call you. Really I was. But . . ."
"You don't have to explain." I sat next to Kathleen and grasped her hand. "How you doing, girl?"
She looked washed out. Her hand grasp was weak. "I don't know exactly. My gait is unsteady. My dad bought this scooter for me after I fell three times in one day." She patted the console on the Amigo. "I think I'm falling apart. First Dick. Then to make matters worse, the state won't let me take Amber. They say I'm too sick. The case worker is placing Amber in foster care this afternoon."
"What are you going to do?" I asked. I didn't know what else to say.
"My parents are packing Mikey's and my personal things into a U-Haul trailer. After CCS comes for Amber, they'll take us to Orlando."
"Permanently?"
"I expect so. I don't see how I can manage alone unless some miracle happens, and if it does, I can get a job in Orlando."
"Maybe in a doctor's office." I said it, but didn't believe it. I'd read that people with MS often hold unrealistic beliefs about a cure or significant remission. The sad thing is when someone does have a miraculous remission, it adds wings to the hopes of other patients. But their wishes often fly away. "What are you going to do about your condo?"
A new wave of sadness furrowed her brow. She said, "Ray took it back. We signed the papers this morning. He made the arrangements and absorbed the cost. Said he owed it to Dick."
What she said sunk into my battered psyche, gripping my chest. "Ray's in town?"
"You didn't know, did you?" Kathleen whispered. "I was afraid of that." Now it was her turn to pat my hand. "I'm so sorry."
Though I was lost in my own thoughts, I sat with her until CCS arrived for Amber, then walked along when she went to the front door of the hospital to wait for her parents. Mikey had adjusted to his mom's new scooter, climbing on and holding tight while she gave him a ride. With the aide of her spiffy new cane, she climbed off the Amigo and walked a few steps to the car. I hoped that meant she might regain some of her strength when her emotional crisis was over.
42
When I pulled into my cul-de-sac, Ray's S2000 was parked—top down, open trunk—in front of my house. I stopped several feet short of the driveway, struggling to get my bearings. Blinded by the stinging in my eyes, I attempted to park, ruining two lawn sprinkler heads in the process. I settled the Mini Cooper squarely next to his Honda and cut the engine.
I sat in my hot car with inertia flooding through me. My head told me I should be saying good riddance. After all, he had avoided telling me the truth and then hadn't bothered to thank me for helping save his precious skin during the fight with Ervin. In truth, my heart was heavy with regret. I missed him.
It hurt to see Ray come out of the door with his arms full of clothing. Without acknowledging my presence, he stowed it in the trunk. Then he said, "That's the last of it. The key is on the kitchen counter. I was hoping to get out before you came home." His eyes traveled the length of my body. "But, I see you weren't working today. Sorry, I blew it. I'll have to come back for the TV."
"That's okay." Still fighting to restrain the tears, I stopped and took a deep breath. "No, I lie
d. It's not okay. Can't we talk?"
"I don't think we have anything to talk about." His voice was relaxed and mellow, the bass tones floating my way on hot August currents.
"Ray, please." Avoiding eye contact, I slipped around him into the house. Either he'd follow me or he wouldn't. Ray was never good at personal conversation. He had to dig deep and work at it. That fact, coupled with his over-exaggerated sense of privacy, sometimes made communication difficult. I didn't have the energy to force the issue.
I retrieved Sunshine from his crate and took him into the back yard. A minute later, Ray joined me. "Thank you," I said when I realized he was standing behind me.
He didn't say anything.
Sunshine came over next to me. I picked him up and cuddled him close to my face, accepting his warm wet licks as he lapped tears from my cheeks. Without turning to Ray, I said, "I'm so very sorry about what I did."
"You said that in Virginia."
"Ray, I know you hate me, and I know you're leaving. I won't try to stop you." I faced him. "I had to talk with you one last time."
He took Sunshine and put him in the grass. Folding his arms around me, he held me close. "Sophi, I don't hate you. Truth is I love you. But we can't work this out. I lived with your hurt and anger over what I did to you years ago. I thought we'd get past it. But I can't live with your continual belief that I'm dishonest. It's time we go our separate ways."
I looked at him without saying anything, willing him to keep talking, not wanting him to leave.
"Kerri and Branden will be here tomorrow. Maybe they'll stay for the school year. Maybe not. I'm going to try to make a home for them. I figure they're better off with me than where Ervin can harass them."
"Will they be safe here? What about Pyle? He's still on the loose, isn't he?"
"Yes, but I'm back on the case. We think he's headed this way. With any luck, we'll get him soon." He bent and planted a kiss on my forehead. "Take care."
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