I grabbed my cell and tried to call JT. Couldn’t get service. This part of the lake was the pits when it came to cell phones. You had to practically stand on your head to get a clear signal of any kind.
I reached to stick my phone somewhere convenient. Damn, no pockets. I shoved it into the top of my boot in case Mumsie called. The long skirt was a pain, but I didn’t know I’d need to be running around a campground. I went to the scout leader’s tent and asked where Rusty was sleeping. I prayed to every God who might listen that Sean was with him.
Between my voice and sound of the car spinning into the campground, heads began to pop out of tents. I’d manage to wake up the entire group of kids. I’d be number one on the list of most hated in the morning. No one had seen Sean. They all swore Sean had not been near the campground.
If I went home I could change into jeans. Maybe Mumsie would have heard something or I could get hold of JT once I was close enough to town to get a signal. Back in the car, driving, my left foot throbbed and stung. Barefoot. What the hell were you thinking?
I pictured Sean with another asthma attack and no inhaler, my constant fear. I had to get that picture out of my head. I couldn’t keep the murder questions from creeping back in spite of Sean. I saw Keith and his Manson eyes. I knew he was connected to the murders somehow, and not just because he might be Donna’s boyfriend
But would you really assume you could get at the money by killing a member of the family? That didn’t make sense. And there was Betty Ann. Why kill her? What good would that have done for Keith? Besides, he hadn’t been in jail for murder, why would he suddenly turn into a serial killer?
Shouldn’t Mumsie call and say Sean was asleep in the office or something? Panic had become a steel weight in my stomach.
I shook my head to clear it of so many conflicting thoughts. I jumped when my cell vibrated and rang, in my boot. Problem was reaching it safely without running off the bridge. Damn. What if it was a crucial call? What good was a phone you couldn’t reach?
I pulled off the highway once I got across the second bridge and tried to call Mumsie and JT again. They could have good news, or bad. I still had no luck and no signal. I pulled back onto the highway and drove back toward Love. What on earth? Car lights flashed up around the Tannehill place, like someone was speeding toward the highway.
Could anything else happen tonight? Oops, never think that out loud. That will make the unexpected happen. The road, curved and dark, wound back on itself in a way that confounded even those used to it. Before I moved away, the dark roads hadn’t bothered me at all. Now I was citified. I wanted street lights.
Lights flashed in my eyes. My prayer had been answered, street lights out of nowhere? There wasn’t anything in front of me. But something with bright lights came up behind me, fast. I didn’t think I had time to pull off the road and had to pray the speeding idiot would pull around and pass me without killing me. Dark roads and drunks, so many people had died on these country curves. I waited for the lights to speed around me but instead, they slowed down, continued to blind me. I reached to flip the mirror so the light wouldn’t blind me so badly, and changed the side mirror to eliminate the flash.
They had slowed but still came up too fast. The thought that they would run into me came just as I was slammed into from behind. This couldn’t be happening again. Was it the same person? I had to get off the road before I was rammed into the side of a bridge, or into the lake. Was the other driver just drunk or were they doing it on purpose?
I didn’t want to end up some statistical death due to a drunk driver. I didn’t want to die. I held the truck steady until the vehicle behind me rammed me again and control left me completely. The muscles in my arms ached with the effort to follow the road and not slide off into a ditch. Shit. Where were the movie weapons when you needed them, the oil to squirt on the road to get rid of your enemy?
I thought everything was under control until my tire blew. Then all the person behind me had to do was tap my bumper and I was off the road and onto gravel, grass, bushes, spinning around, then hitting something that flipped me sideways. I landed upside down, the vehicle crumpled against a tree, me hanging upside down by my seat belt.
* * *
My knees jammed into the wheel, the seat belt choked me and cut into my shoulder. The sound of falling broken glass clinked next to me. Oh, God. What happened? What was broken? I seemed to be alive and maybe in one piece, kind of. I could smell gasoline, not a great sign. How was I going to get out of here? I shouldn’t panic, that’s what all the self-defense people said.
I reached for the seat belt lock. It wouldn’t budge. I refused to just hang upside down like a side of beef. I reached around blindly with my hands, seeing if anything had fallen to the ceiling that I could use. Glass. The broken window, I could cut the seat belt.
I grabbed a large piece of glass and began sawing at the belt, trying not to cut my hand, failing at both. Blood made the glass slippery and made it even harder to slice at the canvas. I hung upside down, my purse below me on the floor ... ceiling. I stretched my arms down and reached into the purse, feeling around for tissue, handkerchief, anything to wrap the glass in.
I heard something—someone—outside the car. I didn’t move a muscle, and then almost laughed. What good would being still do? It’s not like I could fool someone into thinking I wasn’t there. What if they were here to rescue me?
Then again, what if they were here, whoever they were, to finish the job? Better fast death than slow, I think. Hanging upside down couldn’t be healthy for long. I already had a massive headache, either from the crash or inversion pressure.
“Help?” My voice came out in a whisper. I tried to clear my throat.
“Anybody alive in there?”
Keith. That could be good or really bad.
“Oh Tali. I know you’re in there.”
The sing-song voice didn’t sound right. Shit, I’m in trouble.
The driver’s side door swung open with remarkable ease. Guess rolling the car didn’t bend the door. I saw Keith standing over me. My stomach roiled, I retched. I felt like I’d suffocate if I vomited upside down.
“Get me loose,” I begged. My voice cracked, croaked. The seatbelt threatened to choke me if I didn’t get free soon.
“Having a little trouble talking? Feeling all choked up? Awww. Poor Sean. If you die, he’ll just be a little orphan.”
I put my hands under the steering wheel, trying to ease the pressure so I could breathe enough to answer. Waves of dizziness clouded my vision, roared in my ears. Keith’s words faded in and out.
He reached in, fast, as if he would finish the job the crash had started. Instead, one jerk ripped the seatbelt, and I crumpled into a heap, half in and half out of the upside-down car. He grabbed my arm and hauled me out the rest of the way. The smell of gasoline overwhelmed me, and I lost the food I’d eaten in the dirt next to the car.
“Nice. Come on. Get up. Don’t pull the dying swan act on me, or I’ll leave you to burn up with the car.”
The car wasn’t on fire.
He grabbed me again and jerked me to my feet. I stumbled forward, fell to my knees. Keith looked at me, flicked his lighter open and lit the flame.
I scrambled to my feet and dove for the road just as he threw it at the car. Nothing happened except I scraped my already bleeding hands and knees. My left ankle was on fire, the right calf felt bruised. Sharp pain shot from my neck down the middle of my shoulder blades and into my low back.
“You can move, by damn. Come on.” Keith grabbed me again.
I jerked away from him and tried to run the opposite direction. “Leave me alone. Go away.”
“A good Samaritan like me can’t leave an injured woman by the road by herself. Not when I have these.” He shook handcuffs at me.
I whirled to run, stumbled when my knee gave way, and he caught my hand again and snapped on the cuffs, slung me around and fastened both my hands behind my back.
Panic
set in and I struggled against the cuffs like I had some chance of loosening them. He didn’t fasten them loosely either. They hurt enough to put the other pains out of my mind.
“Look, Keith.” I made my voice conciliatory. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Just take these off and I’ll come with you.”
He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “I’m not that stupid. You’re a piece of work. A little jail time didn’t make my brain go to mush. If it had, guess whose fault that might be?”
He pushed me toward the road and his truck.
“What did you mean about Sean? What does he have to do with this? If you hurt him, I’ll…”
“Right. You’re such a danger to me. Don’t worry, I have Sean somewhere nice and safe.”
He opened the door to his extended cab, wedged me behind the front seat, face down with blankets smothering me. Slammed the door and went to the driver’s side. He roared off. I’d have been better off choking upside down in the car.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Promise to self: never again be face down, wedged behind the front seat of a pickup, handcuffed, covered with smelly wool blankets, in August, or any other time of the year.
My brain spun into overdrive.
He mentioned Sean. Where was Sean?
What was he going to do to me, with me? If he was going to kill me, he could have done it while I was hanging helpless upside down.
Every bump jarred more soreness into my already agonized body. I still smelled lake damp, even through the mildew scent of the blankets. I’d thought we were maybe going to the Tannehill’s place, or hoped. At least we could be found there. But if we were going to some place further into the boondocks, heaven help me. Then the chances of JT or anyone else finding out where I was might be nil, nada, nothing.
Was Keith the one who had killed Mag and Betty Ann? If so, I was dead, and maybe Sean too. We spun onto gravel, then dirt, bruises on top of bruises for me.
“Keith, slow down. You’re hurting me.”
“Shut up back there or I’ll put a gag on you.”
“Where are we going?”
The truck skidded to a stop and the driver’s side door flew open. The back of the seat flopped back.
“Did you think I was just talking for fun?”
I opened my mouth to answer and a hand shoved a dirty rag in my mouth. I gagged and tried to push it out with my tongue. If I didn’t suffocate, I’d aspirate my own vomit.
“Spit it out and I shove it down your throat.”
He crashed the seat back into place, whacking my head, heaved himself back into the seat and slammed the door. I heard him pop the top on something and hoped it wasn’t beer, even the three-two, LoveCounty version. He might just kill me without touching me himself. I had to concentrate on breathing in and out slowly and not crying because my nose would stop up and I’d surly smother.
When the truck finally came to a stop, Keith got out, slammed the door and I heard muffled voices, one higher, one lower.
Suddenly a shriek. “You brought her here? Why would you do that, you stupid asshole?”
“Because she was on her way, looking for her kid. I didn’t tell you to bring the kid here either.”
“You did say to bring him here,” Donna yelled. “Don’t blame it on me. I didn’t want the whiny brat around anyway.”
“What kind of girl are you, anyway, that you don’t have any sympathy for the kid? He can’t even breathe and you’re bad mouthing him.”
“And you care? I’m so sure.”
At that I spit out the rag, began to struggle, and tried to wedge myself backwards to get some of the blankets off my head.
“Look.” I heard Donna. “She’s moving around, see? The blankets are wiggling.”
“Well, shit. I might as well stick her in the shed with the kid. Then we can decide what we need to do.”
“You mean what you need to do. You brought them out here. They have nothing to do with me.”
That’s right. Fight. The easier for me to try to manipulate you later. I kept trying to flip over and sit up. The oil taste from the old rag still made my stomach turn. Sweat ran down my face. My skirt twisted and hiked up as I tried to move.
When Keith pulled me out of the truck, he took full advantage of the fact that my skirt was hiked up as he grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me toward him, making certain my skirt continued to ride up above my hips.
I struggled against him when he ran one hand up the inside of my thigh. He couldn’t do that and hold onto my ankles with just one hand. He had to hold onto both feet to avoid being kicked.
“You’ll pay for that kick, you bitch. Better yet, your son will pay if you don’t hold still.”
My mouth went dry with that threat, and I stopped aiming kicks toward his crotch. He went back to exploring the inside of my thighs and more until Donna yelled at him.
“I didn’t say to fool around with her. Put your dick back in your pants and her in the shed.”
“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.” He whispered to me. “We’ll finish this later, babe.”
“Over my dead body.” I couldn’t help saying.
“That can be arranged too,” he said, shoving me in front of him.
I came close to falling on my face. The ground was dark and uneven. I had no balance with my hands fastened behind my back. Shit, I shouldn’t have run off to find Sean without letting JT know.
We reached a small tin shed, and Keith pulled the door open and shoved me inside, slamming the door shut behind me without a word. I stumbled forward, barely staying upright. “Hey. Take these cuffs off, will you.”
I heard Keith through the door. “Maybe later, if you’re really good to me. Then we’ll see.”
* * *
I heard his footsteps going away from me and turned my attention to my immediate problem. I heard a noise, then a wheeze, felt some relief. “Sean? Are you in here? Are you okay?”
“Mom?” he squeaked out. “Where are you?”
“Just inside the door. I can’t see anything yet. Can you? It’s like an oven in here. How long have you been stuck in this place?”
“A little while. Stay still and I’ll try to find you. Do you know these guys? They’re crazy. That guy came to the house, right in the house, and Mumsie was watching TV and didn’t hear. I think he had a key or something. He showed me this gun and said to be quiet or he’d kill her.” He stopped to breathe.
“Don’t talk. Just breathe in and out slowly. Try to slow it down. I’m not far from you.”
I heard him before he clutched for me, his breathing ragged but not as bad as some times. Maybe he’d be all right. He seemed more frightened than anything.
“Mom, I was so scared. I’m glad you’re here. Did those guys hurt you?”
“Not really. Except for these stupid handcuffs. They hurt and are driving me nuts. How about you?”
“I just had to sit there and let him drive away with me and not yell so he wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Why is he being so mean? We didn’t do anything to him, did we?”
“He thinks so,” I explained. “Remember the time I was on jury duty?”
He clung to my waist. “That was forever ago. I was really little.”
“This is the guy we sentenced to prison.”
“Why is he mad at you? There were all those other people.”
“He seems to be picking on me, us. But don’t worry. We’ll find a way out. JT is bound to find us too.”
I reassured him. His breathing calmed down. “Hey, Mom. I bet I can get you out of those handcuffs. We were making things at cubs the other day and I still have some wire in my pocket. Want me to try?”
“Do you think you can do it in the dark?”
“Sure I can. You can’t see inside the lock anyway.”
Sean let go of my waist and I turned around so my back was to him. I could feel him fumbling around. He gave a grunt of satisfaction and I felt him grab the handcuffs. He groped around the wrist to find the lock
and scrabbled at the lock with something. I jumped when something sharp slid off the metal and jabbed.
“Sorry, Mom. Just hang in there, I almost have it.” One handcuff popped loose, but I heard someone coming.
“Quick, Sean, close it without locking it and put that wire away.” I whirled back around just as Donna banged in the door.
* * *
At least, it sounded like her and the person silhouetted by the moonlight looked like her.
“Who else knows you were coming this way?” she snapped, shining the flashlight in my face. “What have you been doing in here, plotting? Might as well stop, you won’t get away.”
“JT,” I lied. “This is stupid, Donna. What do you think you are doing? You don’t actually trust Keith, do you? You’re the smart one. You know kidnapping Sean could get you life in prison, or even death.”
“I didn’t kidnap the kid, or you, remember? Keith did. He kind of does what I say, sometimes, wants his share of my money. Everyone does. They don’t seem to realize that it’s really mine. I don’t have to split it with him, or divide it or anything.”
I could see the glint of her gun next to the flashlight. Brakes and tires shrieked when a car sped up the driveway and skidded to a stop. A car door slammed open and I started to yell out.
“You say a word and your kid’s dead in the water. I’m not kidding.”
I swallowed the yell, keeping my hands behind me so I didn’t push her into a rash move by showing her that I was half unshackled.
I heard someone stumbling around. “Donna, where are you?” the voice slurred.
“What the hell is he doing out of jail and drunk already?” Donna sneered. “He’s been more drunk than sober since Mom left. Just as well Betty Ann left too. If not now, she would have later if she’d tried to live with him.”
I felt like I’d stepped through the looking glass. Left? The women were dead. I was sure Keith had done it. Did she really think they left? No. She was there when I found Betty Ann and was at her mother’s funeral. What the hell was going on?
Privy to Murder Page 19