Vermont Escape

by Marsha R West

  Jerrod clenched his fists, made himself calm down and use his brain rather than his emotions. That’s what he did. How he made his living, using reasoning, logic, and studying the evidence. He was furious with her for bringing her problems and danger here to his mother’s doorstep and his town, but he’d still help her. He spun back around.

  Damn, what a mess. His gaze lingered on those soft brown eyes of hers. Did she already regret telling him? He crossed back and sat next to her, took her hand in his. Waited to get over the shock he felt whenever they touched.

  “Okay, Jill, we’re going to work this out. I’m glad you’ve trusted me with this. I want to look at the flash drive, see if I can figure out what our next steps should be.”

  “No next steps, Jerrod.” She jerked her hand free, leaving cold where warmth had been.

  “There can’t be. I’m afraid they’ll come after me or my kids. I won’t do anything to put them at risk.”

  “They may already have come after you.” He hated to hurt her, but she needed to face facts, even if those facts were bitter.

  “No, don’t say that.” She jumped up, like a spring-loaded toy, and this time he couldn’t catch the chair before it hit the floor. The crash resounded in the kitchen. “It’s a coincidence. It must be a coincidence. God, I shouldn’t have come here, or at least I should’ve tried to cover my tracks.” Her harried movements carried her around the room. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll leave. I’ll just use cash. Neither the FBI nor anyone else will be able to follow me if I don’t use my credit cards.”

  Words flowed from her like a burst damn spewing muddy water. Jerrod supposed she was talking more to herself than to him. He got up, stopped her in the middle of the crazy zigzagging around the room when he put both hands on her shoulders. “Jill, anyone can be traced. It’s harder when using cash and takes more time. But if a person’s willing to pay enough to find someone, he’ll get his information.”

  She stared at him. Despair filled her eyes. “What can I do then? I haven’t told the twins. I wanted to keep them out of this. Should I just send Richardson the flash drive? Maybe then he’d leave us alone.” Her hands squeezed his upper arms trying to drag the answers she wanted from him.

  “How do you convince him you haven’t made another copy?”

  “My God, we’ll never be safe.” The pitch of her voice rose. She wilted into him.

  Jerrod pulled her near and rested his chin on her head. How had he become so tied to this woman? The quiet sobs drenched his shirt and hurt him more than her earlier outburst.

  He was not without resources. They’d figure out something. Primarily, he had to convince Jill she had to fight. The situation demanded she take a stand. Otherwise, she and her children would never be free. They’d never be safe.

  Chapter Eleven

  FRIDAY, OCTOBER 12

  Jerrod turned Jill’s key in the front door. Jack had dropped it off earlier that morning. Based on what the sheriff told him, Jerrod tried to prepare Jill for what to expect. Yeah, she’d seen the office, but this was where she lived, where she slept. He pushed open the door, and the violation and helplessness victims of burglary experienced kicked him in the gut the way it had when he’d discovered the robbery in his apartment in Montpelier.

  “Oh, my God, Jerrod. Oh, my God.” Her hands covered her mouth. The scream didn’t escape. They walked into the living room with the cushions awry and the books off the shelves. The dining room wasn’t quite so bad with only the table and sideboard.

  The faint smell of food beginning to spoil greeted them when they pushed into the kitchen, which didn’t look much different than if a hurricane had blown through. Drawers pulled out. Cupboard doors stood open. Contents spilled across the counter and floor. “This is dreadful. Upstairs this bad?” she asked with a hitch in her voice.

  “Sounds like.”

  She led the way to the second floor, keeping her hands in close to her body, trying not to touch the banister. Finger print powder coated everything.

  “Oh.” When she stepped through the door to her room, she sucked in her breath. Tears dropped unnoticed on her sweater.

  Jerrod’s hands balled into fists. He wanted to punch something or someone for causing her so much distress. Seeing her clothes strewn around the room, including her lingerie... Someone had touched every stitch she owned. Abruptly she turned around and bumped into him.

  “Let’s check the other rooms.” Her mouth formed a tight, straight line. A muscle jumped in her jaw. Her eyes pulled into a squint.

  He followed her into the bathroom, which didn’t seem to be in quite such a state, maybe because he was looking at towels and sheets rather than silky thongs and nighties. Tops off the medicine and make-up containers. The contents oozed across the sink.

  “I hate for you to have to deal with this, Jill.”

  “Yeah, and I’m sorry if I’m responsible for bringing this dreadful business to your town. And the Burton’s lovely home. I’m sick for them, too.”

  He took her hand. “Jill, this isn’t your fault. You realize that, right? Whoever broke in is at fault.”

  She shook her head and jerked away from him. “Last room’s the study.” They walked across the hall. “Looks ominously like the office at the store, except I don’t have quite the same amount of paperwork here.” She walked to the desk then looked back at him. “My laptop’s gone.”

  “I’ll let Jack know right away.” He stepped into the hall, pulled out his cell to fill in the sheriff about the latest, and hoped they’d found a sign this was a regular burglary. Then he called Karen, asked her to come over, and bring along some extra cleaning supplies. Jill came out of the study.

  “This is going to take a while.” Her voice was flat, no inflection at all.

  “Yeah. But we’re not finished with the discussion. For now, we’ll focus on cleaning up. I’m bringing in reinforcements. Karen is coming and bringing Mother’s housekeeper. We need dry cloths and damp ones. Do you have something we can use?”

  “In the kitchen.” She turned and headed back down the stairs.

  “Until you get a security system put in, plan to sleep at my house.” Jill stopped halfway down shaking her head. She turned and looked up at him. “I appreciate you letting me stay last night. Clearly, that was the best thing to do, but I can’t continue. What will people think?”

  “That I’m a really nice man to help you out when you’ve had such bad luck?”

  “Right.” Jill rolled her eyes and continued down the stairs. “If you’re serious about helping, I accept your offer. I’ll show you where the rags in the kitchen are then I’ll wash a load of clothes. Some things will go to the cleaners, but this is... Well, I better get busy.”

  “First I’m calling a buddy who does home security. See how soon he can come out here.” He grabbed the rags from under the sink.

  “Jerrod, I’ll need to check with the Burtons before I take such drastic steps.”

  His glare locked with hers. “Well, normally I’d agree, but you can’t stay here without a security system.” He pulled out his cell phone and walked through the back door.

  THE NERVE OF HIM. HE didn’t get the last word, nor could he ignore her opinion. Truthfully, she was grateful for his take-charge manner. To say this whole thing overwhelmed her would be an understatement.

  In her bedroom, she picked up her clothes, one piece at a time, and shook the powder from them, separating items into light and dark. Please, God, let this be random, some dreadful quirk in the universe. Not related to the evil in Fort Worth and Austin. This was a prayer she suspected God would answer in the negative.

  Karen arrived in less than twenty minutes with Anne’s cleaning-lady, Myrtle Bates. She stated they had to start on the top, because the powder would settle lower to the first floor when they dealt with the second. They divvied up jobs by location, so they didn’t stumble over each other. Jill handled the clothes in her room, and Karen the bathroom items. What a goopy mess. Jill hated to leav
e it to Karen. The scents from the various opened bottles and jars blended into a not altogether unpleasant aroma, albeit strong. Jill, focused on sorting and shaking clothes, jumped when Karen touched her on the shoulder.

  “Sorry, hon. I wanted to get your attention but didn’t want the others to overhear me.”

  Jill’s stomach muscles tightened at the expression on her friend’s face.

  “What?”

  “No easy way to ask this. What are the possibilities the break-in here and at the store are connected in any way to what happened to George and your father?”

  “What?” Jill was proud of the tone of incredulity she’d been able to infuse her voice with, but she couldn’t make eye contact. That was too hard. She angled her body away from Karen and picked up more clothes.

  “I’ve run the situation over and over in my mind. Woodstock has few burglaries. Tim and other town council members are always bragging about how low our overall crime rate is.”

  Both Jerrod and Karen seemed determined to see a connection to her life in Fort Worth, when all she wanted to do was pray none existed. Jill took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, deciding to bluff. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Come on Jill, get the blinders off. You’re a smart woman.”

  Karen grasped Jill’s shoulders and turned her around.

  “Your father made some enemies during his time in the legislature. You must consider the possibility one of those is responsible for his and George’s deaths. You told me your house in Fort Worth was broken into, and here you’ve had two burglaries in two weeks. In all the mysteries I read, the cop always says sometime during the book, ‘I don’t believe in coincidences.’ You know he does.”

  The low gruff voice she used for the cop’s words pulled a smile from Jill. Leave it to Karen to bring some levity to this situation. “All right. It’s possible. I haven’t wanted to think that. I don’t want to leave here, Karen. If I believed a connection existed, I’d have to, because I refuse to put y’all in danger.”

  “Have you talked with anyone about this?”

  “Jerrod. This morning.”

  “Good. You probably should talk with the sheriff and maybe Don. Between them, they’re sure to have ideas about what to do to deal—.”

  “Karen, don’t suggest saying anything to Don.” A slight hint of hysteria zinged through her tone, despite efforts to remain calm.

  “Why ever not?”

  “Well, you can’t. I got Jerrod’s promise not to say anything to his son either.”

  “So, you’re not telling me everything.” Karen nodded. “Okay. You know if you need anything, Tim and I are here for you.” Karen picked up her rag, her mouth tilted in a crooked grin. “I’d better get back to work before the boss fires me.”

  Jill worked for another half-hour before a brief knock preceded Jerrod sticking his head around the door. “Myrtle and I are going down. What’s taking you so long? We’re moving faster than you slowpokes.” He disappeared through the opening.

  “I heard that,” Karen hollered from the bathroom. “He’s issued a direct challenge. They’re finished in the study. Why don’t you start on the papers?”

  “Okay. I’ve got the clothes sorted.” Jill left her bedroom. Myrtle and Jerrod had done a good job in the study. They’d used both the dry and wet cloths, so she was able to get papers back into files. When she’d finished, she hit her bedroom again and scooped up another load for the washer. “I’m heading down, Karen.”

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Myrtle, I can’t thank you enough for being here. Things are so much better.” Jill set the basket of clothes on the floor next to the washer. She looked around the kitchen, which had two trash bags sitting in the middle of the floor. She notched her head toward them.

  “Spoiled food.” Myrtle was brief and to the point.

  Jill nodded. “Thanks.” She picked up one and carried it outside to the garbage can.

  “Glad to help out.” Myrtle said when Jill entered. “Mrs. Phillips wanted to come herself, but I discouraged her. Said if we got too many people in here, we’d be tripping over each other.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t have let her help anyway. She did more than her share at the store.” She looked around. “I didn’t notice Jerrod when I came through the living room.”

  “He left a while ago. Wanted me to tell you he’d be back. Had an errand to run.”

  “Oh.” Apprehension at what he was doing sent tension straight up the back of her head.

  “I’ll put that load in the washer for you after I move the things in there to the dryer. Do you have another load?”

  “You are a jewel. Yes, I have several more loads. I’ll be washing clothes for the next week.”

  Myrtle laughed. “Nah, it will just feel like that.”

  Jill joined in and pushed her concerns about where Jerrod was out of her mind.

  JERROD WOULD’VE PREFERRED not to sneak out of Jill’s house, but he didn’t want her trying to talk him out of doing what he knew he must. He hoped she’d be able to forgive him for breaking his promise. While he valued his word above everything else, in this instance, her safety had to come first. Until this—whatever it was—got resolved, she’d never be safe. He pushed open the door to the Woodstock Public Safety building, which housed the sheriff’s office.

  “Can I see Jack, Clara?”

  “Just a minute.” She checked with her boss. “Go on back.”

  Jerrod nodded his thanks before he headed toward Jack’s office. He stuck his head around the door. “Hey, you got a few minutes?”

  “Sure, Jerrod, come on in. You know it’ll be some time before we get anything on those fingerprints we found. How’s Ms. Barlow holding up?”

  “About as well as can be expected. I left her with Karen and Myrtle. They have a lot to do before she can stay in the house again.”

  Jerrod pushed the office door closed and slouched into one of the chairs. “Jack, I wanted to talk to you without her around.”

  “What’s going on?”

  The worry about Jill’s safety, the effect her nearness had on him, and what she’d possibly brought with her to Woodstock drained all his energy. He sucked in a breath. God last night seemed a long time ago. He brought Jack up to speed.

  “Jill made me promise not to tell Don anything, because she’s convinced a bad apple hangs in the FBI’s Austin office.” Jerrod ran a hand around the back of his neck. Tension had burned from the moment she’d shown up on his doorstep last night.

  “She didn’t say specifically not to speak to you, although if she’d thought about it she might’ve. Before she said anything, I’d already asked Don to see what he could find out. Hope I didn’t make the situation worse.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” Jack rubbed his jaw. “Pretty much of a mess, and you’re probably screwed for saying anything.”

  “Yeah, and damn, I wish she hadn’t brought her troubles here, if in fact, she has.” Jerrod didn’t analyze his statement, afraid he’d find he didn’t mean what he’d said. “I got hold of Tommy Tomlinson, and he’s going to tell Jill what she needs to do to make the place more secure. She’s concerned about what the Burtons will say, but she has to put some sort of system in. If she’s paying for the equipment, why would they mind?”

  “Now, Jerrod, you’re the lawyer. You understand that’s not exactly kosher. Has she tried to get hold of the owners?”

  “We’ve both talked with her realtor Mark Jennings, and he’s trying to reach them, but they’re on a cruise, and only sometimes have cell phone coverage.”

  “How is he with your plan?”

  “Mostly okay. As long as Tommy can put in a system without affecting the architectural integrity of the house.”

  “Don’t see how Jill has much choice. Town can’t afford to put a deputy sitting outside her house twenty-four seven.”

  Jack’s desk phone rang at the same time Jerrod’s cell chirped. He gestured for the sheriff to go ahe
ad with his call, and Jerrod stepped out of the office to answer his. Don’s number showed on the call display. “Hey, how’re things going? Quiet in Montpelier?”

  “Yeah, Dad. Once you legislators take off, things settle down.”

  Jerrod didn’t laugh the way he normally would’ve after the typical jab. “You have any luck, Son?” Jerrod held his breath hoping Don had found information to help them figure out what steps to take next. “Not much. I confirmed what you already know. Unknown suspect killed her husband in an apparent attempt on her father’s life which two years later was successful. Nothing else. The Austin Bureau isn’t investigating anything to do with her father.”

  “I hope I haven’t made a mistake having you check into this, Don.” Jerrod’s hand scraped across his beard. He considered that he was about to kill the possibility of any kind of relationship with Jill, but he had to tell Don the rest of the story.

  “Why would that be, Dad?”

  “Crap.” As Jack said, he was already screwed. “Might as well go the rest of the

  way.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  The determined insistence in his son’s voice told Jerrod he wouldn’t stop until he got the rest of the story.

  Jerrod related to Don what Jill told him about her father’s note and the flash drive. He shared Jill’s suspicion the drive contained information to bring down Greg Richardson, the lobbyist for the Texas gambling consortium.

  “Have you seen the note or looked at the flash drive yourself?”

  “No. I don’t know where or if she has it with her. Safe to say probably not in the store or her house.” Jerrod stopped pacing. “God, she wouldn’t be so stupid to carry it on her, would she?” Sweat broke out across his brow. He tapped his thigh with his hand.

  “You know her better than I do, Dad.”

  “She’s a smart woman, but up until her husband’s death, her experience with certain elements of our society has been limited to TV shows. She’s endured a lot of stress in two short years.”