“Who were you talking to in there?” David asked. “I heard your voice.”
“Nothing,” she said. “I’ll be right out.”
She didn’t know whether to cry or scream. The conclusion was obvious. Inescapable. Her husband was waiting for her on the other side of that door. Waiting to betray her. Or worse. Kill her. Her and their baby. David? Could it be David? The David she loved and had promised her life to? Why? Why would he do such a thing? It couldn’t be. Weren’t they happy? Hadn’t he told her so a million times? But a swirl of stern, familiar faces and warning voices warred for dominance in her head. Oh God, no, she thought. He wouldn’t do that to me. He loves me. He couldn’t. She leaned against the sink, clutching her stomach. NO.
And then, in the midst of her terror and abject misery, she suddenly found another way to explain it. There was another possibility. Remote, but possible. Maybe David was a victim of this hoax, just as she was. Maybe someone was pulling a scam on him too. Maybe whoever wanted to kill her had lured them both down here with a fake call. After all, how many times had David talked to Chief Osmund? How well did he know his voice?
Yes, that had to be it. Hope rose in her heart, shaky as a newborn colt. She was not alone, not betrayed, not her husband’s intended victim, not the stupidest woman who had ever lived. For a moment, her heart sailed. And then it plummeted.
That’s right, she thought. Be stupid all over again. Be trusting. Insist that you know better than the police because you are in love and because you are willing to believe in your husband no matter what.
The doorknob twisted again. “Emma. What’s going on? Is it the baby?” he asked.
Emma put her hand on her stomach and looked down at that hand. Inadvertently, he had given her the answer. Yes, she thought. It is. It is the baby. The only one who is completely and utterly innocent in all this. And in mortal danger. That’s the whole point. Whoever made that phone call wants to kill us. Both of us. Whether or not David is cooperating, or being duped, the person on the other end of the line was a killer. There was no wiggle room for the wrong guess. I have to protect you, Aloysius, she thought. Your life depends on me. I can’t trust anyone but myself.
Somehow, that thought, however horrifying, was also calming.
Call for help, she thought. Obviously not Chief Osmund, she thought. Lieutenant Atkins. She fumbled in her purse, found the lieutenant’s card, and punched in the number with trembling fingers. After two rings, the voice mail answered. Oh shit, she thought. “Lieutenant, it’s…Emma Webster. I’m in the Pine Barrens. I’m in trouble,” she whispered, hoping to be heard over the sound of the running water.
Emma punched off the lieutenant’s number and called 911. When the operator answered she whispered, “Help. I think my husband wants to kill me.”
“Where are you, ma’am?” the operator asked.
“At a gas station.”
“Where is the gas station?”
“I don’t know,” Emma cried.
“I can’t hear you, ma’am…and I’m not getting any address. You’re on a cell phone?”
“Yes, he’s right outside,” whispered Emma.
“We need an address—even a route number would be helpful.”
I don’t even know where I am, Emma thought.
“Emma, I don’t believe you’re all right,” David shouted. “I’m gonna force this door open.”
Emma pushed the off button, dropped her phone back in her bag and tried to calm the mad beating of her heart. “Everything’s fine,” she said, turning off the faucets. “Here I come.”
She unlocked the door and opened it. David was standing just outside on the blacktop, peering at her.
“Are you okay? You look sick.”
She stared into David’s eyes, which were now, perhaps had always been, the eyes of a stranger. She had thought she knew that face, knew those eyes. Hadn’t those hazel eyes mirrored her deepest feelings, shared them, sworn undying love and loyalty? It was so tempting to lean on him, to tell him all she knew and trust him to help her work it out. She wavered in her heart, but her gut reminded her of all that was at stake. Only trust yourself. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just my nerves.”
“Well, I have to pay for the gas inside the minimart, and then we’ll be on our way.”
“Okay,” she said. He had to pay for the gas. He probably left the keys in the ignition. While he was inside the minimart, she would get behind the wheel, lock the doors, and leave him there. Drive away. She could drive, whether she was supposed to or not. A few popped stitches were nothing. This was a matter of life or death.
She wouldn’t drive farther into the Pine Barrens. She would turn around and go back the way they had come. Back toward Clarenceville.
David slipped his hand beneath her arm, and Emma jumped. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said irritably, steeling herself to allow him to hold her arm.
“Come with me,” he said. “I don’t want you out here by yourself.”
“I’m just going to go to the car,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Did you see that creep who was pumping the gas? You come with me.”
“No,” she protested. “I need to sit. I feel a little woozy.”
“Probably the smell of the gas from the pumps,” he said. “Here, come inside with me and get away from that smell. No arguments. You know you hate the smell of gas, especially now that you’re pregnant.” He knows me, she thought. He knows I like milk, no sugar, in my coffee, and he knows that I sleep on my side and that I love lily of the valley and hate the smell of gasoline. How could you know, and indulge, and chuckle over a person’s every little habit and tic, and all the time be planning to kill them? How could it be? You can’t answer that question right now, she reminded herself. You just have to get away from him.
He was steering her toward the lighted door of the minimart, even though she was dragging her feet like lead weights as her hope for escape slipped away. She could yell at him or try to run. But who would help her? That gas-pumping cretin who had leered at her? He’d probably laugh at her or join in the chase. Inside the minimart she could see a woman at the cash register. Maybe the woman would help her, she thought.
“Come on,” he said. “What’s the problem, Emma?”
“Nothing,” she said. “No problem.”
His hand firmly gripping her elbow, he led her up to the counter. The woman behind the cash register, a cold-looking blonde with bleached hair, was shouldering a phone to her ear, muttering into the receiver, and did not even look up as she checked the price of David’s gas. Emma’s heart sank. She was not going to be able to explain her predicament. She couldn’t. The woman wouldn’t even meet her pleading gaze. Emma looked around the little store and suddenly noticed a lighted EXIT sign in the back of the store.
She withdrew her arm from David’s hand. “I’m hungry. I’m going to get something to eat and maybe a…a soda to settle my stomach.”
“I’ll get it for you,” he said.
“Is this going to be credit or cash,” the woman with the phone snapped.
David turned to look at the cashier.
“I’ll go grab something. I’ll be right back,” said Emma.
Before he could reply, she started down the aisle, passing bags of chips, cookies, Kitty Litter, and Kleenex. She headed toward the refrigerated cases at the back and opened one of the doors, pretending to look inside. Instead, she looked down the aisle toward the EXIT sign. A hand-lettered sign was posted at the entrance to the corridor beneath the sign. EMPLOYEES ONLY, it read. DO NOT ENTER.
Emma closed the door to the cold case. She took a deep breath. You have to do this, she thought. No time left to decide. She bolted down the aisle across the back of the store and ducked into the forbidden corridor. There was a washroom on the left, which also had an EMPLOYEES ONLY sign on it. On the right were stacks of boxes. Emma hurried past them and saw the door leading to the outside.
Don’t be locked, she thought. Please God. Don’t let it be locked. She pressed on the waist-level bar, and the door opened with a loud clank. The gas station attendant came out of the washroom and saw her.
“Hey, you’re not allowed back here,” he said indignantly.
Emma did not bother to reply. She pushed the door open and stumbled out into the weed-choked lot behind the station and the blackness of the night.
29
BRAMBLES CAUGHT on the blue-green cape as Emma plunged through the dry grass and weeds. She stubbed her toe on a rock that looked like a clod of earth in the moonlight and stumbled over the empty plastic bottles and crushed soda cans littering the overgrown lot behind the minimart. The nearest bank of trees was to her right. She headed in that direction, grateful for the visibility the moon provided.
She knew she had only a few moments to get away, a few moments before her husband noticed that she had not come back or realized that the attendant’s protest had been directed at his wife. A few moments before he came after her, searching for her, trying to capture her. Why, David? Her soul cried out, but immediately she stopped herself. No time for that now. Make a plan. Okay, okay, she thought. Go into those trees. Once you’re hidden, try to call the police again. Call for help.
For a moment she wondered, who else can I call? Her first thought was Burke, and then she rememebered. Burke was gone. Off on some personal business.
Who else? If Lieutenant Atkins was still unavailable, she could try the Clarenceville police. They knew her whole story. And they would believe her right away. They would be able to dispatch troopers to her rescue.
I can do that, she thought, panting as she reached the copse of fir trees. After I can try Lieutenant Atkins again. Her breathing was ragged from fear and the unaccustomed effort of running. She could feel the pull of the stitches in her side, on her legs. Her skin felt fiery. She kept going, hiding herself in the cover of the trees.
From the direction of the service station, she heard an inchoate shout. It was her name. She knew it was her name. David had discovered she was gone. He was after her. Don’t panic, she thought. Stop and call. He can’t hear you from where he is. You can barely make out what he is shouting. Although she knew. He was coming after her.
With trembling fingers, she punched in the numbers on her cell phone and held it to her ear, praying that Atkins would answer this time. She’s still not there, still has her phone turned off, there’s no one to help you, she thought, panic rising.
“Hello.”
Emma’s heart leapt. “Lieutenant Atkins?” she whispered.
“Speak up. I can’t hear you. Who is this?”
She spoke aloud, in the quietest possible voice. “It’s Emma Webster. I’m…in danger.”
“I got your message. Where are you?” Joan demanded.
“I’m hiding in a grove of trees. I’m in the Pine Barrens.”
“The Pine Barrens. What the hell are you doing there?”
“I thought. There was a call…” She didn’t know how to explain.
“Never mind,” Joan barked. “Where in the Pine Barrens are you?”
She wished she had paid more attention to the signs as they drove. She had figured that David knew the way. “I’m not sure. There’s a service station right nearby.”
“Emma, the Pine Barrens are a million acres. You could be anywhere. What exit did you get off at? What kind of service station?”
Emma craned her neck, but she could not see the sign in front of the minimart. “I don’t know. I thought we were going to the same place as before, but now I don’t know. You have to help me. I’m hiding but I don’t know how long—”
She gasped. Now she could see David. He had walked around to the back of the minimart and was calling her name.
“Ask them for help in the service station,” Joan said in an agitated tone. “Go in and tell them you’re in danger.”
“I can’t,” she said. “He’s there.”
“Who is it, Emma?” Joan demanded. Then there was a silence. “It’s your husband, isn’t it? That shit.”
Emma was silent.
“As a matter of fact, Chief Osmund left me a message too. His witness picked your husband’s photo out of a lineup. The witness said he was there in that cabin of Zamsky’s several months ago. With a woman. Wasn’t you, was it?”
Emma had to force back tears. “No,” she whispered. As she clutched the phone, quivering, she watched David begin to pick his way across the littered lot behind the minimart. Why did you do this to me? she thought.
“Emma, listen to me. You have to give us some idea of where to find you,” Joan Atkins said.
“I can’t,” she croaked. And then, suddenly, she remembered.
“Lieutenant,” she said. “There’s a poster. A missing persons poster. A girl used to work at this service station and she disappeared. Shannon O’Brien was her name. Isn’t there a missing persons register? Maybe if you look her up, you can find out what service station it is. The location, you know?”
“Right,” Joan exclaimed. “That’s great, Emma. That’s using your head. We can find the place from that. It’ll take a few minutes on the computer, but we can find it. Once we do, I’ll have men on the way. You just sit tight and stay on the line. We’re coming to get you.”
“Thank you,” Emma whispered. She was listening to Joan Atkins’s voice, but her gaze was fixed on David, who had stopped, looked up, and then looked toward the trees where she was hiding. He was gazing right at her across the dark field. He can’t see you, she told herself. It’s impossible. All he can see is darkness. But it was no use. He was starting to walk her way, his eyes fixed on her location.
Emma dropped the phone in her bag and fled, crashing through the low branches, tripping over roots and beginning to bleed from her broken sutures. She had no idea where she was running. She zigzagged through the trees, turning one way and then another, looking back for a second but seeing no one behind her, only darkness, all around. She wasn’t on a trail. She was just pinballing from tree to tree. How would Lieutenant Atkins ever find her, even if she did find the service station?
And then, up ahead of her, flickering through the pine needles on the branches that surrounded her, Emma saw something that made her feel faint with relief. The lights of a house. Someone was there. In their house. Someone she could plead with for help. Beg them to let her in until the police came. She only hoped it was not some drooling, wild-eyed Piney. But then she reminded herself of Claude Mathis. One of those Pineys had given his life to try and save her. Once more, she needed saving. Please, God, she thought. Let me get there before David finds me.
Ignoring the pain that seared her legs and side, Emma pitched herself through the dense tangle of tree branches, using her forearms to clear a pathway, the pine needles slapping and stinging her as she went. The far-off, flickering light urged her on, a beacon of hope in the darkness.
As she made her way toward the light, she noticed that she no longer heard David’s voice calling to her. Either he was in silent pursuit, a thought that filled her with dread, or he had given up chasing her. It seemed unlikely that he would give up the chase. But she didn’t have the time or the will to try to figure out his plan. She had her plan. That was all she could do. Presumably, the police were already on their way to rescue her. Once she got inside that lit-up house, she would find her phone and speak to Joan Atkins, tell her exactly where she was cached. Wait for rescue. The lights were closer, ever closer. She called on all her strength and thought of her baby.
Her face raw from the whipping of the pine branches, Emma finally emerged at the edge of the clearing where the lit house sat. The sight of the house up close, however, was not reassuring. Even in the moonlight, the house appeared dingy, covered with asbestos shingles, a stack of empty, cracked flowerpots by the front door. A clutch of chewed-up Indian corn hung on the peeling front door. The lights from inside the house were diffused by the grime on the windows.
Emma
hesitated. Suddenly, from a dark, tin-roof shed at the end of the clearing, she heard a faint whinny. A horse. Something about the idea of a horse was reassuring, comforting. Animals were gentle and could not betray you. Rather than knock at the door, not knowing what she would find, maybe she should hide in the makeshift barn.
You’re just being paranoid, she chided herself, because of all that’s happened to you. So the people in this house aren’t rich or particularly house proud. That doesn’t mean that they won’t help you. Besides, they have a horse. They’re animal lovers. That’s usually a good sign. She had just about changed her mind, decided to knock at the door, when she suddenly heard the sound of wheels on gravel slowly coming up the drive. She saw the flash of headlights, and her mind was made up. She bolted across the clearing to the tin-roofed shed and dove inside, hiding herself behind a bale of hay.
The horse tied up in the shed looked at her with its large, gentle eyes and made a snorting sound. “Shhh…,” Emma said.
She began to rummage in her purse for the phone and held it to her ear. “Lieutenant Atkins?” she whispered.
There was no sound on the line. It was as if it had died somewhere along the way. Emma pushed every button and then shook the phone in frustration, but there was the same dead air on the line. All of a sudden she heard the sound of a car approaching. She looked out and realized that she had hidden herself just in time. The car that pulled into the clearing was their Jeep. Emma’s heart was hammering as she saw the Jeep stop. David left the car running, jumped out, walked up to the front door of the house, and knocked. He peered all around, as if he suspected her presence. Emma pulled herself back behind the hay bale, pulling a dusty blanket that lay on the earthen floor of the shed up over her. She prayed for the horse not to start kicking up a ruckus and give her away.
In another minute, she heard muffled voices. Two male voices, talking. She lifted herself up just far enough to glimpse David standing on the step, talking to a young guy in a shapeless flannel shirt wearing a baseball cap. He was silhouetted in the doorway by the light behind him, the brim of the cap pulled low on his head. David’s voice was animated, urgent as he gestured around the clearing, and Emma abruptly lowered her head and hid, trying to make herself invisible. He’s searching the nearest places in the area. He’s asking that kid if he’s seen me. Her heart was thudding. At least, thanks to Emma’s hesitation, the young guy didn’t know she was here and couldn’t give her away. She heard the kid bawl, “Mom,” into the house, but didn’t hear if there was any reply.
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