“The mayor!” The college girl widened her eyes and shook her finger in the air. “She’s the one who found the body and caught the killers.”
“Actually, her dog, Ben, discovered the body,” Megan corrected. “We can talk while we hike and pick up litter. Everyone equipped with drinking water, garbage bags, gloves, and a trash pick-up tool?”
The group raised their empty bags and garbage-poking sticks.
“Then let’s go. I’ll tell you about the rotting hand Ben dropped at Lou’s feet, which set off a chain of events stranger than a fiction writer could imagine.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Any Word About Lou?
“What a zoo.” Jason shook his head at the line of news vehicles parked along the street, including every spot taken in front of the Tumble Lake Trading Post. He wheeled his truck to the rear of the store, parked in one of the spots only employees usually used, and entered through the rear door.
DING-DONG, the back door chimed as Jason walked into the trading post.
“Jason,” Stella screeched from the checkstand at the front of the store. No microphone was necessary to carry her voice, folks often joked she was born with a megaphone in her larynx.
The handful of news people scattered around the store gawked at Jason.
“What are you doing here?” she proceeded to quiz him as if they were alone. “Aren’t you supposed to be at that conference in Tumble City?”
Though stress kept every muscle in his body tight, a smile skidded across his face. Nothing was private in a small town. “Any word about Lou yet?”
Stella shook her head and tossed her hands in the air. “A good forty-five minutes ago, an army of law enforcement types dressed to the hilt for battle took off toward the lake.”
An army of cops? That meant something dangerous was going down or about to go down. Jason gritted his teeth and uttered a curse to himself as he strolled into the eating area.
Every seat in the tiny diner was filled, not that there were that many tables or chairs to begin with. The news crews had clustered the tables together to create a banquet-style arrangement. Several handheld police scanners rested on the table. Sipping coffee or soda and snacking on Jen’s homemade chocolate chip cookies, the men and women chatted, waiting for information that could be reported as breaking news.
As Jason passed the group, he stopped. Eyed each of them. “So how many cops make up an army?” He nodded at Stella in reference to her description.
“Seven,” one of the men stated. He rose from the table, stepped to Jason, and extended his hand. “Spencer Dowdle, Action 12 News. May I buy you a cup of coffee or a soft drink?”
With nothing to do but wait for word about Lou, and liking the initiative of the young man, Jason nodded. “Why the heck not?”
“If you don’t mind being surrounded by cardboard boxes and cans, you’re welcome to have a seat back here,” Jen offered, pointing into the kitchen. “There’s a card table and chairs set up back by the delivery door.”
Spencer rapidly bobbed his head, jumping at the chance for privacy in what might turn into an exclusive interview. “Thank you, that would be great,” he answered Jen then turned his attention to Jason. “That is, if it’s all right with you, Sir.”
Unlike some of the reporters Jason had encountered over the years, Spencer showed respect by not assuming. “Sure. That would be great. By the way, my name is Jason Paxton.”
Once settled in at the card table and Jen had served their beverages, Spencer struck up a conversation. “If you don’t mind me asking, Mr. Paxton—”
“Jason. Please call me, Jason.”
“Okay, Jason,” Spencer smiled. “From the way you blew into the store and the concern on your face and radiating in your voice, I assume you know Louise Tumble. Is my assumption accurate?”
“Accurate?” Jason chuckled. “I’ve known Louise for years.” He stroked the side of his glass of Coke as memories of Martha rushed in. “Lou provided respite care when I was looking after my wife, Martha, during her last days.” Tears blurred his vision. “Damn cancer…”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Jason blinked away the tears and quirked his lips. “Martha died over fourteen years ago. Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago. Other times, it feels like I lost her last week.” He shrugged. “At least she got to celebrate the first birthday of our first grandchild, Cynthia Marie.” Thoughts of his three sons and his five grandchildren drew a smile onto his lips. “Cynthia turns sixteen next month and is driving. Time sure disappears with the wind.”
Spencer leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your current relationship with Louise Tumble?”
Loaded question. Jason squirmed in his seat. Was the promise he made to himself being tested? Dare he profess to a news reporter to be romantically involved with a woman he cared deeply for, actually loved, but had yet to kiss?
Of course not! He picked up the glass of Coke and swallowed several gulps. “Lou’s dear to me.” His mind drifted to the sound of her laughter, the vibrancy radiating from her face full of life, the sweet smell of her beautiful long hair…
“I don’t mean to pry, but word around town is that you two are a couple and—”
“Hold it right there.” Jason held up his palm, gesturing a stop sign. “Let’s just say we’re close. Very close.”
“As you wish.” Spencer relaxed back into the chair. “Change of subject. According to Rachel Winger, who’s Louise’s niece, correct…?”
“That’s correct.”
“Rachel feels responsible for Louise’s disappearance.”
Jason mashed up his face. “Why?”
“Apparently she offered to finish the morning shift for Louise and Louise accepted, leaving the trading post around nine-thirty instead of when her shift would have ended at one.”
Jason raked his fingers through his hair. He understood how Rachel might feel responsible, though she certainly was not.
“Maybe if Louise had been working, she wouldn’t have been taken hostage by the Barrs. Do you have an opinion about that?”
“Who told you the Barrs have Louise?”
“Is it true Porter Barr is obsessed with Louise? So obsessed that he stalks her? Do you think this has anything to do with some kind of a love triangle involving, Porter, Louise, and you?”
“Love triangle?” Jason shot up from the table and drilled his eyes into the reporter. “This conversation is over.” He turned, took several steps toward the back door of the kitchen, stopped, and looked over his shoulder at Spencer. “Twenty minutes ago, I had respect for you. Time will tell whether that respect remains. And that hinges solely on your ability to report facts rather than embellished, sensationalized, fake news.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
South Cave
“How are you holding up, Miss Louise?” Hyrum patted the top of her hand resting on his hip.
“I’d be holding up a lot better without this hood. My face feels like it’s going to melt off and based on the smell of my breath, I could use a mint.”
Hyrum chuckled. “We’re almost there.”
A rush of cool air dusted over her arms and legs, a clue they must be near an opening leading outside.
“Duck down and step up.” Hyrum twisted his body, placed his hand on top of her head, and pushed it down.
“This rock is slick.” Daniel placed his hands under her buttocks and gave her a boost.
Louise lost her footing. Slipped. Arms flailing about, she fell backward. “Ahhh!”
“I’ve got you.”
The back of her head snapped against Daniel’s chest as she landed in his arms. An instant headache banged inside her skull.
“Are you okay?” Daniel asked.
“Please take this hood off.” Her voice crackled, unable to continue to hide her frustration and fear.
“I’m going to lift you up to Hyrum.”
Before Louise compreh
ended what was happening, Daniel had jammed his hands under her armpits, raised her up, and Hyrum had hoisted her out of the cave. Or tunnel. Or whatever manner of subterranean passage they had traversed.
She welcomed the crunch of leaves under her feet, the sound of wind rustling through the pines, and the warmth of sunshine on her arms.
“Sit down.” Hyrum guided her to a rock and helped her take a seat.
The rock’s damp cold penetrated her shorts, sending a chill through her body. Fingers splayed, she reached down to her sides, exploring the rock.
The fingertips of her right hand made contact with a rough horizontal surface she identified as a tree trunk.
“Don’t move. I need to consult with my brothers, then I’ll be back.”
“Wait.” She extended her arms in the direction of Hyrum’s voice. “Please wait.”
He gathered her hands in his. “What is it, Miss Louise?”
“Please take off this hood. Please…”
“I’ll ask Morton.” He released her hands and patted her shoulder. “You’re going to be okay. You have my word. Now just sit here. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gone!
“How is this possible?” Sgt. Filburn gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the interior of the vacated cave.
“They have security cameras,” one of the MTAF agents called out. He stood at the opened doors of the wardrobe cabinet and pointed to a bank of screens. “They watched Milt and Ruben leave, then left.” He shrugged. “With a twenty or thirty-minute lead, there’s no telling where they could have gone. For all we know, they escaped in a vehicle and took the hostage with them.”
Filburn closed his eyes and rubbed the bunched up wrinkles on his forehead with his fingertips. A thousand thoughts, preceded by a string of expletives, swamped his mind.
“Sir, I found something.”
He opened his eyes and jerked his head up, his attention focusing on another of his agents.
“The hostage left a clue.” He held a roll of toilet paper and read, “Gone to s cave. I assume the s means south.”
Consulting a hand-held electronic device, another agent noted, “This cave isn’t listed on the map. As a matter of fact, no caves are listed on this map. We’ve got nothing to go on.”
“Not, nothing.” Filburn shook his finger in the air. “We have this cave as a starting point. Let’s get the fire chief’s drone in the air. Three mountain men dragging along an elderly woman as their hostage couldn’t have moved that fast or gone that far even with a thirty-minute head start.”
Chapter Thirty
Going Nowhere
Though tempted to yank the hood off, Louise sat perfectly still. She strained to hear the brothers’ discussion, but all she could distinguish from their whispers were bits and pieces. “Dad wouldn’t approve,” and “This is insane.”
Intrigue and concern fed her wild swings of emotion ranging from hope for freedom to panic of being murdered. What were they referring to as insane? What had been proposed causing one of the brothers to declare, “Dad wouldn’t approve?” Did either or both remarks relate to her?
“Fine,” one of the brothers conceded with a huff, indicating displeasure with the result of their conversation.
The sound of footsteps pounding against the forest floor offered an alert that someone approached. Someone with determined strides underscoring urgency. Or anger.
Preparing to receive the news, no matter how alarming, she sat up taller. Inhaled a deep breath and gripped the edge of the cold rock with her hands planted at her sides.
“I’m sorry, Miss Louise.” Genuine concern exuded from Hyrum’s words. “But for your own good and ours, I have to tie you to this tree.”
“What?” Louise recoiled, clasping her hands together and pressing them against her chest.
“Place your hands behind your back, wrists crossed.”
“Please, don’t. If you’re going to tie me up, at least do so with my hands in front of my body—”
“Please don’t make me hurt you.”
“Why are you doing this? I haven’t attempted to escape since I gave you my word before you took me to the cave. I’ll sit here. I promise.”
“Please cooperate,” Hyrum whispered in her ear. “Otherwise—”
“Come on, Hyrum, time’s wasting. Do you need me to do that?”
Louise recognized Morton’s voice and the tone of impatience.
“Help me, help you,” Hyrum whispered to Louise before answering, “No,” to his older brother.
Something inside told her to trust Hyrum. Though hesitant, she surrendered. Lowered her hands and placed her wrists crossed behind her back as he had instructed.
As Hyrum bound her wrists together with rope, he once again whispered in her ear, “Dad always admired your elegance and strength. You’re grace under pressure.”
Grace under pressure? Louise almost burst into laughter. Although Hyrum may have perceived her as such, she felt anything but calm and in control of her emotions.
“Count to five-hundred before you attempt to free yourself or call for help.”
“You’re leaving me here … letting me go … just like that? I thought I was supposed to negotiate—”
“Change of plans.” He kissed the side of her face through the hood and whispered, “I’m sorry you got tangled up in this mess.”
Louise opened her mouth to express sympathy for his father’s murder. But the rapid dissipation of hurried footsteps told her he and his brothers were already gone.
Without her slowing them down, they could move faster to wherever they were going. Despite the Barr brothers holding her against her will, they had earned a spot in her heart. “Stay safe,” she muttered, wishing the men well though they were no longer within earshot.
Reflecting upon all that had happened, she became melancholy. So much violence. So much death. Yet, somehow, she survived. At least so far.
Her thoughts drifted to Ben and Milt. And Rachel. But landed square on Jason. She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes, ushering in the image of his handsome face. “I love you, Jason Paxton,” she quietly declared. “Life is too precious to wait any longer. After your conference, when we’re alone this weekend, I’m going to—”
“Owwhee!” The burst of laughter and cheerful voices in the near distance cut through the air like a foghorn.
Startled, Louise gasped and leaped to her feet.
The rope binding her hands behind her back yanked her backward.
She groaned in misery, the rope feeling like saw blade teeth grinding against her wrists. Steadying herself, she stood listening.
The voices became louder.
Not sure if enough time had passed for her to have counted to five-hundred as Hyrum instructed, Louise wouldn’t risk the opportunity to be rescued. She sucked in a deep breath and yelled, “Help! I’m tied to a tree and have a hood over my head so I can’t see. Help! Please help!”
“We hear you, Honey,” a woman called back. “Keep talking so we can follow your voice.”
“My name is Louise Tumble. I’m—”
“Lou! It’s Megan. Megan Jarvis.”
Tears of joy dripped onto Louise’s cheeks as she laughed, unable to wrap her head around her good fortune. Had the Barrs planned for the Tumble Lake Pliking Club to find her, or was it sheer coincidence? Either way, gratitude filled her from head to toe. “You’re with your plikers, right?”
“We’re cleaning up the trail for Aubrey Witherspoon’s memorial dedication Saturday.”
“There she is!” one of Megan’s male plikers shrieked.
“Lou, we see you. Are you hurt?”
“No.” Louise stretched her neck, turning her head in the direction of Megan’s voice. “Just thirsty.”
“We have water.”
“If there’s cell phone reception, will someone please call 9-1-1? Ask them to contact Fire Chief Milt Tumble to let him know you found me.”
“I’ve got reception,” a young woman responded.
“What the heck happened, Lou?” Megan asked, her voice closer.
“Long story that started with Ben finding a body in the lake and ended with me being held hostage by the Barrs.” Louise moistened her dry lips with her tongue. “Milt and Ben found me at the cave, but then the Barrs moved me. I don’t know if Milt’s still looking for me or what law enforcement agencies other than the MTAF are involved. Please let Milt know I’m okay and that the Barrs are long gone.”
“Courtney’s on the phone with a 9-1-1 operator now,” Megan shouted.
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
“Lou, you’re about fifty yards above the trail,” Megan explained. “It’s a steep climb. Not sure we’ll all make it up, but I guarantee at least one of us will to set you free.”
The string of strange events that began with Rachel volunteering to finish Louise’s shift at the trading post a few hours early was finally ending.
Chapter Thirty-One
Rescued!
Double-parked behind the black MTAF armored personnel vehicles at the trailhead, Milt sat in the driver seat of the Tumble Lake Fire Department’s UTV.
Jason, dressed in black dress pants and a short-sleeve white dress shirt with the first few buttons opened, occupied the passenger seat.
Ben sat huffing in the backseat.
“I’m amazed the Barrs snuck out of that cave as quickly and surreptitiously as they did.” Milt tilted his head back and guzzled a bottle of water.
“I’m amazed Ben found you then led you right to Louise.” Jason reached into the backseat and rubbed the dog’s right ear. “You’re a good boy, even if you come between Lou and me at some of the most inopportune times.”
“I wasn’t amazed by Ben’s ability to lead me to Lou. Those two are connected at the soul level.” He chuckled and nudged his elbow into the side of Jason’s arm. “I surmise your comment about Ben coming between you and Lou is related to romance.”
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