by J. R. WRIGHT
“So?”
“Well, so he’s available.”
“Available for what, Gloria?” Marti glared. “In three hours we’re going to be in Oklahoma City. And then these guys are gone. You’ll probably never see him again.”
“We’ll see,” Gloria responded casually.
“Now, just what in hell did you mean by that?” Marti confronted her.
“Well… all these truck stops have small rooms in the back, for…”
“Oh, God, don’t tell me!”
“Listen Martina, that’s fine for you to say, but you got the release you needed with Parker. Did you ever stop to think I may have a few bottled up anxieties of my own that need some attention?” She said angrily, and left the restroom.
And sure enough, when they arrived at the final truck stop on the western outskirts of Oklahoma City to refuel before saying their parting goodbyes, Martina saw Tom and Gloria disappear inside. Then, after near a half hour of miserable waiting on everyone else’s part, they emerged hand in hand, all smiles. Then, as if to add insult to injury, they openly embraced for a minute or two, before splitting off to go their separate ways.
“I hope that was worth it?” Martina said and turned away to head for the rental truck.
“You know it!” Gloria smilingly shouted after her as she climbed into the car and prepared to follow.
“Good!” Martina smiled back. Regardless of everything, she couldn’t help but be happy for her, if she got what she wanted. Frankly, Tom wouldn’t have been her choice, however. There was another one in the group with a much nicer smile she planned to fantasize over as they traveled. Like Parker, he had nice buns. But then, she figured, every man in her future from now on would be measured against Parker McLean. He was her first, and would definitely be a tough act for any man to have to follow, she knew.
An hour or so outside of Oklahoma City, a huge canyon appeared on the right side of the highway. And ahead a ways, Marti spotted a roadside park that overlooked it. Shifting down then, she eased the huge truck into it and stopped adjacent to some picnic tables there. Getting out, she walked past the tables to a rock barrier wall at the edge of a sheer drop off. It appeared to extend downward from there a few hundred feet to the canyon floor far below. Walking back then, she came up to Gloria, who was standing by the car.
“How much of that stuff, in the truck, can you live without?”
With that, Gloria, seeing Martina was dead serious, puffed up and said, “Well, you know, most of that furniture was Raym’s. I got it in the divorce… I don’t know…all but a few small things, I suppose. Why?”
“Well, let’s get it out of there, then!” she said, marching toward it, not bothering to answer her question.
Near an hour later, with the trunk and the rear seat area of the car packed full with the can’t live withouts, Marti got into the truck and backed it around in the parking lot. Then, after a group of cars passed by on the highway, and no more were visible for miles in either direction, she slipped the truck into the lowest gear, set the dashboard throttle to a medium roar, dropped the clutch, and hopped out to the ground. With that, the big van lunged forward, soon caught up to the set speed, plowed through the few picnic tables, and then on to the three feet high rock barrier, taking it out as well. After that, the expected occurred: the truck lazily dipped over the canyon edge and near silently dropped from sight.
Waiting for something more to happen, the two glared at each other for what seemed an eternity before the sound of an enormous explosion reached their ears, and a ball of fire rose up into view from below. It was accompanied a short time thereafter by a mushroom cloud of black smoke.
“Wowee!” Gloria yelled, and she began to laugh hysterically.
“Come on!” Marti shouted, and ran for the car. A moment later, loose gravel from the parking lot shot from beneath the tires, like buckshot from a shotgun, as the old two tone grey Chevy fishtailed toward the highway. Entering it on two wheels, Marti immediately accelerated to sixty. Then, after checking her rear view mirror, she stepped the speed to seventy-five and held it there for at least twenty miles before easing back to the speed limit.
Thinking what else she could do to cover their tracks, Martina drew a blank. She then turned to Gloria, who seemed mesmerized from what they had just done. “I think we’ve made a clean break.”
“Alright!” Gloria came to life and poked her head out the open window. “LA, here we come! Yahooooo!”
Thinking on that for a moment, Marti asked, “How set are you that we go to LA?”
“I thought we were going to seek employment at the Spencer House affiliate, there? I mean, isn’t that what we told Scott Harris?”
“I didn’t tell him that,” Marti glanced to Gloria, as she gripped the wheel. “Did you?”
“I don’t know. What if I did? I was so upset at the time, I don’t remember what I said…”
“Well, it’s for certain Lieutenant Dunbar figured we were heading someplace west. I wasn’t given an option when he said the great City of St. Louis was escorting us out of town, in the middle of the night. And that they were taking us as far as Oklahoma City.”
“Then do you think he knows?” Gloria asked.
“I don’t know what to think. Maybe it’s just paranoia setting in,” she said, and checked the rearview mirror.
“Where else is there to go?” Gloria asked. “Someplace fun?”
“Well there’s always Vegas.”
“Las Vegas is an expensive place to live,” Gloria said. “We’d need to get a job right away, or we’re sunk. But then I suppose, I could turn some tricks until we get on our feet.”
“I appreciate the generous offer, Gloria. Better you than me,” Marti said with a chuckle, reaching into her purse on the seat beside her. “But I don’t think we’ll need to resort to that, just yet.”
“What’s this?” Gloria looked at the envelope handed her and peeled open the flap. “Oh my God! Where did this come from?” She removed the cash, and fanned out the fifty one hundred dollar bills.
“Harry Dunbar gave it to us. He said it was from some slush fund of confiscated crime money they have at the police department.”
“Wow, that was generous of him,” Gloria said, and she began to count it.
“Yes, it was,” Marti agreed. But then, what’s a human life worth in real money?
“So it’s Vegas then?” Gloria eyed her and returned the money to the envelope.
“We have until Albuquerque to decide. Why don’t we spend some time there, have our hair colors changed, relax a little, then decide,” Marti suggested. “You never know, we may end up in Nome, Alaska, before it’s all said and done.”
“Alaska is nice, this time of year.”
“Gloria! Is there any place you haven’t been?” Marti said, then kicked the speed up to seventy on a level stretch of open highway.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
It was later in the day when Lieutenant Dunbar received the call. The rental truck his department had acquired the previous day was discovered crashed in a canyon west of Oklahoma City. If there were any bodies in it at the time, they were totally incinerated in the ensuing gasoline tank explosion.
Gathering a smile upon hearing this news, Dunbar thanked the caller and cradled the receiver. Never for a second did he believe Martina Spalding, or even Gloria Gillen for that matter, had been in that truck at the time. It would be a cold day in hell before anyone could ever convince him of that. He knew very well what this was, and gave Martina the credit for pulling it off expertly. The bottom line — they were alive — that part no longer concerned him. However, the call had reminded him of a promise he’d made Martina before she left. And he decided to take care of that little thing right now, while it was still fresh on his mind. Gathering his hat, he then scooped up a large envelope from his desk and left the office.
Twenty minutes later, he was approaching Gwyn Raizel, busy behind her desk at the Main Library. “Mrs. Raizel,” he
spoke her name softly, not wanting to startle the frail old woman.
She abruptly looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. In fact, she had just spoken to him a few days ago, when he came by with questions regarding her granddaughter Susannah’s murder.
“Lieutenant Dunbar, isn’t it? What brings you by, this time? Is there something else I can help you with?”
“It sure is, Gwyn,” he said. “And no, I just came by to deliver this.” He handed over a large manila envelope. “It’s the pictures and things you loaned to Martina Spalding. I put her name there on the envelope to remind me what was in it.”
“You know, I don’t know as I ever knew her last name. Spalding, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“She is such a lovely young gal… reminds me so much of Susannah. We had a lovely visit over at the coffee shop the last time she came by. I suppose she’ll be by again…”
“No, ma’am. I don’t think so…”
“Oh, my! I hope nothing has happened to her,” Gwyn said, covering her mouth.
“No, ma’am. Nothing real bad, anyway. She left town is all.”
“Where to, do you know? I should send her a thank you letter, don’t you think? I mean, I knew the first time I met her she would be the one to bring me closure, as far as my granddaughter was concerned. I have a feeling she may even have played a major role in bringing about justice for Raym Koffee, too. Am I right, Lieutenant?”
With the answer to that on his tongue, Dunbar looked around to see who may be listening, all the while feeling Gwyn’s eyes locked on him. Finally, seeing all was clear, he said, “Yes, ma’am. Major!”
“I knew it, Lieutenant,” Gwyn said excitedly. “Now I know I have to reach her. Do you have a forwarding address?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Nothing?”
“No, ma’am… Nothing.”
“But if you needed to reach her you could, couldn’t you, Lieutenant? I see a flicker of hope in your eyes.”
“Well, she did say she would call me sometime. But I have no idea when that may happen. And even if she does, I doubt she will give up her location.”
“Is she in witness protection?”
“No, ma’am. But her life may be in danger.”
“The Koffees again, huh, Lieutenant?”
“I can’t answer that, ma’am.”
“Okay, Lieutenant. Well, when she does call, will you tell her something from me?”
“I’d be glad to, ma’am.”
“Just say this: God rewards those who serve him best,” Gwyn said. “And then say: Susannah thanks you, too.”
“Now I’d best write that down, ma’am, or I’ll surely forget it,” Dunbar said, and reached for his pad and pencil.
“She’s at peace now, you know?”
“Who, ma’am?”
“Susannah!” Gwyn said, as if he ought to know what she was thinking.
And apparently Gwyn Raizel was at peace, as well. Even though not ill, she never returned to work at the library again after that day. And two weeks later she passed away, peacefully, in her sleep. The St. Louis newspapers, shortly thereafter, reported Gwyn had bequeathed half her sizable fortune to an undisclosed person, who had yet to be located. This caused tongues to wag, and speculation to flourish, as to who this fortunate person may be. But Harry Dunbar knew. And he wasn’t about to tell. Meanwhile, she had not, as yet, called.
But what one man knew, that nobody else did, was that Gwyn had not left a good chunk of her fortune to a named individual. In fact, she had left with him no name to go by at all — just a question and the answer to it, for him to qualify the inheritor to receive the cash — and be entitled to designate its delivery to anywhere in the world, tax free. And that man was Gwyn Raizel’s trusted lifelong friend and lawyer, the Honorable Judge Jeremy Beckworth. She was his only remaining client, and he was determined to see to it that her final wish was handled precisely as she had directed.
There was no designated time limit on claiming the inheritance, except for the possible demise of the eighty-one-year-old judge, himself. The reason for that being, he was the only one who had the answer to the question. And it was written in a place no one would ever think to look. That is, unless you knew what you were looking for, as only the rightful inheritor would.
“Sprout, my darling – Take new life and soar again.”
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Be sure to read, And Along Came Spider II, the second book in the Spider Series.
Acknowledgement:
A special thank you is given by the author to Mia Manns. Without her contributions to the writing of this series it would not be special, as I believe the books within it have (and will, as this series progresses) become, primarily due to her efforts. Mia has the expert ability to choose her words, where they appear, to harmonize with the mood of the scene, within the story. And what beautiful words she writes. For that, and Mia’s superior ability as an editor, I remain forever grateful.
Other books by J. R. Wright are as follows:
TWIG
LEGEND of the DAWN
AFTER the DAWN
BEFORE SUNDOWN