"Go on."
Jennifer rubbed her temples. "This is where it starts, the part I can't tell you. So I'm just going to say what I can."
During an interrogation it was always easier to go back and pick up the pieces after hearing the main story. Case urged her to continue. "That's fine, Jennifer. Just tell me what you're comfortable saying. We'll take it from there."
"I don't want to get anyone in trouble, especially not Hondo. He's always been a good friend, Mr. Case."
"I'll help him if I can. I promise you that."
"Just let me get this out then," Jennifer said. "Hondo woke me up and he seemed really upset, really scared. He said that he'd found a dead man out by the woodpile. See, you have to understand that Hondo isn't always wrapped real tight, you know? He's like a little kid. So at first I thought maybe he saw a dead possum or something. I got my flashlight and got dressed and went to take a look. It was your friend Bobby, the man who had checked in the night before."
"Are you sure he was dead?"
Her eyes brimmed with tears. "If you had seen what was left of him you wouldn't need to ask that question."
Case thought of the tourist couple and winced. "Go on, Jennifer. What happened after that? What did you do next?"
"I suppose I should have gone right to the sheriff, but when we came around the corner I saw their room. Number two. The lights were all on and the door was standing open. I guess I figured maybe, if the lady was still alive…maybe we would be in time to help her."
"Did you go inside?"
Jennifer bit her lower lip. "I made Hondo wait outside because he was really upset. I don't mind telling you, I was scared."
"Of course."
"Well, I went into the living room. Like I said, the lights were on. I went into the bedroom but the bed hadn't even been slept in. Then I…I went…" She trailed off. One tear rolled down her cheek. Case could tell Kelly was literally holding her breath sitting next to him. He gave Jennifer the space to compose herself.
"I went into the bathroom. The woman was…all messed up. There was blood all over the tiles in the tub."
Case tried to imagine things. "Where was her body, Jennifer? I mean, how was she lying?"
"Face down in the tub, with her…bare bottom and legs sticking out on the floor. And that's why all the blood was on the shower wall or in the bathtub."
"What happened to her?"
"It wasn't like the other one, Mr. Case. He was all chewed up. This looked like someone had cut her throat." Jennifer hid her face in her hands. She sobbed quietly. Case looked at Kelly. His mind was starting to work overtime and the cop in him was at war with the private citizen.
Case turned to Kelly, who seemed about to probe about the missing money. He flashed an urgent look.
Case was patient, but even after she had calmed down, Jennifer remained silent. Finally he urged her to continue. "Did you go to Sheriff Whitley, Jennifer?"
"No."
"Did you and Hondo…clean everything up together?"
"Yes." More tears. "I was so scared of what might happen to him, Mr. Case. He's never gone crazy and hurt people like this before."
"You mean Hondo?"
Jennifer didn't answer, but Case took her silence to be an affirmation. Hondo had the size to be the mystery killer, and there was definitely something odd about him. As a cop he felt comfortable enough with things; ready to contact the local law—but Kelly's situation put him in a nasty bind.
The girl looked up. "Okay, that's everything. Will you please go now?"
"Not yet, Case said, finally, "but soon."
"Please leave me alone," Jennifer wailed. "Please?"
"Soon, I promise," Case said. "But I need you to help me out with one last thing first. You remember when I said 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours'? Well, it's time."
22
When they left the motel office, Case was struck by how carefully Jennifer Fowler covered their tracks. She peered through the door like an animal leaving her young behind in the den, then stepped carefully down the steps. She motioned for Kelly and Case to follow her through the sand that sat like a moat around the flowerbed to the nearly hidden hiking trail. Then she turned and used a rake to scrape away most of their footprints. Case followed her lead. She knew her people, and this country.
They walked in single file, Kelly and Case following the young girl.
Outside, the sky had taken on a pinkish tone. The blistering sun was beginning to ease down into the mountains. A light breeze ruffled their clothing. Using a hidden shortcut, Jennifer Fowler led Case and Kelly along the trail and up into some tightly clustered sage. After working her way back down the other side of the rocks, she found a footpath that dropped down below the driveway and went winding through the trees in lazy half-circles. They hiked for quite a while. No one spoke.
Case was just starting to wonder if Jennifer was leading them on a wild goose chase when the odor of rotting garbage assailed his nostrils.
"It's just around here."
Some white pines blocked their view. Jennifer walked down a slight slope and around the copse of trees. Case followed her, uncomfortably aware that it was going to be dark soon. Kelly was beginning to get winded—he could hear her panting—but she managed to keep up.
"There," Jennifer said. She stopped at the bottom of the slope. An entire wetland area, screened off by cracked cement walls, served as the town dump. "We brought what was left of them out here and Hondo dragged them way out into the trash and buried them. But by then we were really worried because the sun had come up, so he dug a hole and we dropped the luggage in." She pointed down at the mess near her feet. "The suitcases are the deepest. So I think it's right here."
Before Case could move, Jennifer knelt and dug down with one hand. She felt around in the muck without even changing her detached expression, grabbed onto something and pulled it out. They indeed saw a metal briefcase, now covered with garbage and mold. Jennifer searched, used a stick to scrape it relatively clean.
"There," she said. She handed it over. "You can see it wasn't ever opened. Now, I've kept my end of the bargain. Will you keep yours and leave before dark?"
Case took the briefcase. "Look, Jennifer, Bobby Lawford was a real philandering son of a bitch and from what Kelly has told me, he and Selma deserved each other. But nobody deserves to die like that. Hell, you know I can't just look the other way knowing they've been murdered. If Hondo did it, then he probably killed those tourists last night, too. And that means he is one very disturbed individual."
"Leave, Mr. Case." Her eyes pinned him. "We will deal with Hondo."
Case handed the briefcase to Kelly, who held on tight, like it was the last parachute out of a burning bomber. He pondered for a long time, then shook his head. "I can't just leave. Not without knowing what you've got in mind."
Jennifer struggled with some odd, internal pressure. Finally she just said: "I give you my word that this will all be taken care of soon, Mr. Case. The guilty will pay. I know it is asking a lot for you to just accept my word for it, but it's true."
"I don't know if that will be good enough."
She looked directly at Kelly, and now her eyes went flat and calculating. "Okay, let me put it this way. If you want me to stay quiet about the briefcase and the money that's inside you'll leave town without making any more trouble."
Case watched her read Kelly. He fought down a smile. This kid was one tough cookie. He grunted. "So you did open it."
"I don't have to," Jennifer replied, defiantly. "But I just saw the look on her face when I said the word money."
"That's pretty thin."
She narrowed her eyes. "Okay, then here is my last card, Mr. Case. I already figured you came here after somebody. Well, now the last piece just clicked into place. A few hours ago, somebody called the motel and asked about you, like whether or not you'd checked in or out yet."
Joe Case immediately felt sick. He deliberately didn't look at Kelly. "Who? Nobody knows I'm here."
"It was a man, okay? Some guy with an accent. And let me put it this way; he didn't sound too friendly. So now that I know this is about money, I also know that somebody is after you. Somebody you'd rather not meet up with. Am I right so far?"
Case sighed. "I get you. Looks like we have a standoff."
She stuck out her chin. "It appears that way."
Case produced the gun. "Maybe I should just shoot you now and leave you with the other bodies."
"Joe," Kelly said. "No!"
But Jennifer just shrugged. "It's a lot of money. I guess you could do that." She walked closer, one hand on her hip. "But I'm betting you ain't that kind of man."
The breeze moved through her hair and Case saw darker roots. She was not bluffing; wasn't fazed. "You're a redneck gal through and through, aren't you." It wasn't a question. "Hell. I like that."
Jennifer found a brief smile. "Okay, Mr. Case, like I said you didn't go straight to the law for reasons of your own. Why don't you tell me your story?"
"I'm thinking on doing just that."
"Well, I'm listening."
Case saw them as if from above: Three broken people beginning to feel chill as evening fell; standing at the edge of a reeking mass of garbage, busily lying to one another. One was an ex-cop—legally a murderer himself—who was pretending he had the right to judge. One was a Hollywood lemming who had looked the other way and was now on the run from the Russian mob and God only knew who else. The third was a troubled kid with conflicting loyalties who clearly knew more than she was letting on.
Jennifer looked up at the sinking sun. "We'd best get started back."
Case motioned for her to lead the way. "You're the boss."
She marched on ahead, her back ramrod straight. Case glanced at Kelly, who appeared so lost in gratitude to have the briefcase she was beyond moral conflicts for the moment. She followed and Case took the rear. He glance back and up regularly, searched the brush with tight eyes. They moved into the copse of pine. The trunks seemed bigger, the shadows more ominous than before.
"Jennifer, if we do just get on the highway tonight, how can I be sure you'll do the right thing?"
"You mean do something about the crimes or keep my mouth shut about the money you're taking?"
Case chuckled. "Okay, both."
"How about you check the newspapers in three days, or maybe call the State Police to make an anonymous report you saw something."
"And?"
They climbed over some low rocks and got back onto the winding trail. "And they will tell you to relax, because they already know all about it. Does that sound fair enough?"
Case considered. "Not bad, kid." They looped wide around a pine tree. Kelly slipped and the briefcase tumbled to the ground. He helped her up. "I'll carry this for a while. Watch your step."
"Yeah, keep your eyes on the ground," Jennifer said. "Darkness falls real fast up here and the air is thin and gets cold. We'd best hurry."
"Thank you for this, Jennifer," Kelly managed. "I'm very grateful."
"Now I'm curious," The girl slowed her pace to let them catch up. "Are you folks ever going to tell me your story?"
"Maybe when it's all over," Case said. "Probably about when I make that call to see what happened up here."
"That seems fair."
"All right, then. Looks like we have a deal."
"Except for one thing, Jennifer. The last time I checked our car was still up on blocks over at the garage."
"I talked to Jake. He's going to give you a loaner. It's a piece of shit, but it should get you up to Salt Lake or down to Reno. Just leave it at the airport. It's not really registered anyway. The sticker is a fake."
"Nice."
"We'd best get moving."
They hiked back to the motel. The night encroached on their already frayed nerves. Assuming the buried briefcase contained the material taken from the film company, Joe Case knew the next step would be trickier. He would have to figure a way to sell whoever was owed the money on the idea that it hadn't been stolen by Kelly McCammon. And that would be the easy part. The truly dangerous part would be try to give it back to the mob while simultaneously convincing them that Case wasn't a thief, either—just some neutral party who was willing to return it.
Case ran several scenarios through his mind. Since sociopaths had trouble imagining altruism, one thought was to ask for a small piece of the cash; just enough to make himself a believable broker. The problem with that approach was that mob guys had a tendency to carry grudges. They might decide to try and find him later, just for a little payback. Case had no interest in trying on a pair of cement shoes after being strung up on a meat hook and skinned alive. He'd heard some of the Russian boys still played like that. Made the old Vegas Mob look tame. And they hid it better. Flew your ass to some Godforsaken ex-Soviet country and did the deed offshore.
Of course, there was always a small chance the briefcase didn't have the money in it after all. In which case they were completely screwed, unless they wanted to go back and dig through some garbage and under a couple of dead bodies to check the suitcases. But it was getting dark. And they'd played the only hand available.
Case hugged the briefcase to his chest and kept walking.
Jennifer led them back up the trail to the little flower bed. By the time they reached the sand pit, the sun was nearly gone and the sky was the red-rust color of dried blood. The storage shack across the parking lot was still standing open and one bare light bulb hung down in the middle of the work area.
Jennifer's boyfriend Jake was beneath the hood of an old Chevy Corsica, banging on something. He seemed to sense their presence and peeked around the corner. His reddish hair was matted with grease and his t-shirt was stained with oil.
"Jenny?" Her name, affection, suspicion and a question crouched within the one, small word. He started wiping his hands on a rag. Jennifer Fowler walked up to him, kissed his cheek.
"We came to an understanding." She looked out at the blackening night sky. Her voice had a nervous edge. "Did you get it running?"
The boy went around the front of the car, hopped behind the wheel as effortlessly as a cat. He turned the engine over and it started immediately. "She's purring." His pride was obvious. "I already got all their stuff from the room and put it in the trunk."
"It's already a Buck Moon tonight," Jennifer said, half mumbling. "It'll be a full freakin' moon."
"Jenny, I said they're all set."
"That's wonderful, honey." Jennifer looked at Case. "You folks need to get."
Her intense eyes told him to hurry. She says she wants to get out of this town. Should I trust her? In a split second, Case decided to go with the flow. He opened the passenger door and urged Kelly inside. He slipped into his windbreaker.
Jake slipped out to stand by the front fender. He held the driver side door open. "Gas tank is nearly full. You're out of here."
Case got in and fastened the seat belt. "One last thing—Jake, you'll handle the rental car people, right?"
"I'll call them first thing in the morning. You got pissed off about having to wait, bought a used car from me for cash and left town."
"Thanks."
Jennifer Fowler had her hands in the pockets of her jeans. She was staring up at the rising full moon. Her face appeared to have gone pale, although it might have been a trick of the light.
Jake leaned his head in the window. He pushed his face close enough to make Case uncomfortable. His breath was warm and not unpleasant. "Go straight out the main road and get onto the highway. Leave your headlights off until you get there. Now remember this, right is north toward Wendover, left is south toward Elko. Don't stop for nothing, you hear? Nothing."
He slammed the door. Case looked back over his shoulder and started to back the car away. He left the lights off, as instructed. Meanwhile, Kelly was patting the briefcase. He couldn't see her clearly, but she looked like someone who couldn't decide whether to laugh with relief or cry from exhaustion. Case kept drivi
ng backwards.
The old Chevy handled poorly, so he had to watch his speed. It was difficult to see over one shoulder in the darkness. Finally he hit the motel parking lot, under the lamppost. He turned the car in a loop and headed back toward the highway. Case took one last look in the rearview mirror and saw Jennifer Fowler and Jake kissing. Without looking, the boy reached up and turned off the single, bare bulb. The storage garage plunged into darkness.
"Case," Kelly said, "please get us the hell out of this weird little town."
"I'm working on it."
"How are we going to open this?"
"I have some stuff in my briefcase that should do. Every cop in the world knows how to pick a lock."
"And if the money isn't there?"
"Then we'll have no choice but to go to the cops and have them dig up the bodies. I'll try to get word to the right people that the money got found. And it will be our word against theirs that we ever took the briefcase."
"Couldn't we just do that anyway?"
"Trust me," Case said. "If it's the Russian mob, these people don't like to be disappointed. The only way to be reasonably sure they won't mess with you with extreme prejudice is to give them back what's theirs. They aren't long on compassion."
They bumped through the moonlight. Case saw the end of the dirt road and the beginning of the stretch leading to the highway that was maybe a quarter mile away. He reached down for the headlights but did not turn them on. He slowed the car and brought it to a complete stop.
"What's wrong?"
Case reached down to his belt and brought out the .38. He had fired two shots at the one called Lobo and whoever else it was that had tried to kidnap Kelly earlier. That left four cartridges. He had a speed loader with another six rounds, but it was packed away in the trunk, with the suitcase. He sat quietly, the engine idling. Damn. That wasn't enough ammo anyway.
"Joe?"
"Maybe we've been set up."
"Jennifer?"
"Maybe."
"I don't understand."
He reached over and took her hand. "It's not over yet," he said, softly. "But I don't think we're going anywhere tonight except back to town."
CLAN Page 17