The Widow's Cabin

by L. G. Davis

  “I’m so scared, Tasha, for me and Clark. If he finds us again, he’ll kill me and take my son. I can’t let him. When he showed up at the motel and took Clark, I almost died.” The fear I had felt at finding Clark gone returns to cut off my air supply.

  “Then we won’t let that monster come near him again. Clark is your son and you have the right to protect him. I’ll do whatever I can to help you, but I think you should go to the police. Tell them everything. They might believe you. I believe you.”

  “But Cole has connections. That police officer that you thought was interested in me, he worked for him. He’s the one who told him where I was. Cole has a lot of money to pay crooked cops. I don’t know if I can trust any of them.”

  Tasha’s mouth falls open. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. Cole is the one who told me about the cop. I guess he was a decent policeman until he saw the reward on my head and called Cole.”

  “It makes sense now. The man has not been seen since the day he showed up at Mrs. Foster’s funeral. He used to come to the restaurant almost every day, then he stopped. Who knows? Maybe he was fired or he left to spend his dirty money elsewhere.”

  “He’s gone? Thank God.” Now that I know the truth about him, I was terrified that he might still be stalking me.

  “Yes, but your father-in-law could be anywhere. He needs to go to prison for his crimes, and you need to stop running.” She pulls me into another hug and squeezes me tight. “I wish you had told me sooner. You didn’t have to go through all that alone.”

  “Tasha,” I push away, “there’s something else you should know. It was Cole who killed Mrs. Foster. He admitted it.”

  Tasha’s eyes flood with tears. “He...he did it? Why?”

  “It was because she helped me.” I pause. “If you help me, you’ll be in danger too.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. You need to take that evidence to the cops. You will only be free and safe if he’s behind bars.” She puts her hands on my shoulders. “I know it’s terrifying, but that man can’t get away with murder and rape. You have the power to make sure that doesn’t happen. Do what you have to do and I will take care of Clark. We’ll take him and the boys somewhere safe.”

  “Thank you.” I wrap my arms around her. We hold each other for a long time until I pull away and nod. “I’ll do it. I’ll make sure Cole doesn’t get away with it.”

  38

  After spending the night in a small room above The Night Owl, I find the courage to call the Willow Creek Police Department. When I reveal who I am, I’m promptly transferred to a man named Dan Mason, the lead detective. I guess only he is qualified to deal with such a high-profile case.

  He asks me to come in. I refuse because there’s no guarantee they won’t arrest me.

  “I’m calling to tell you that my father-in-law is not only guilty of raping those women, but he also murdered my husband and our housekeeper, and I will find the proof.”

  I’ll only show my face to the police when I have the evidence that would help them arrest Cole and exonerate me. If the police were not able to find any evidence at the hotel or the house that I used to call my own, there’s one other place they have not checked, a place they may not even know exists.

  The moment Cole mentioned the cabin to Clark, I knew that was probably where he had been hiding. Whatever evidence I’m looking for might also be there.

  As soon as I hang up the phone, I get on a bus out of town. The clock has just struck 6:00 p.m. when I hop onto a bus headed for Rustdale, the small town where Cole’s cabin is located. To get there, though, I’ll have to pass through Fort Haven.

  Three hours later, the bus drives through the town I thought I’d never see again. The lights are warm and inviting, but I will never feel at home there again. It will forever be tainted in my mind.

  It hurts to be traveling without Clark, but Tasha convinced me that it’s safer this way, and it would make it easier for me to make quick decisions. I agreed. What I’m doing could also have put both of us in danger.

  This is something I need to do alone, and I trust Tasha. She promised me she would take great care of my son. I’m pretty sure Cole’s main priority is coming after me first, and that means Clark is safe from him for now. If Cole gets rid of me, that’s another story.

  Around 10:00 p.m. the bus stutters to a halt in Rustdale. It’s a struggle to get to my feet because my knees are so weak with nerves.

  I’m carrying only my handbag. Everything else we owned was left in the motel room since we left in such a hurry.

  But it’s good for me to travel light.

  My hair is styled differently, and I have changed my eye color again. I look different in a pair of clothes that Tasha’s brother has given me. They belong to his girlfriend. Leather pants with a jean jacket and a matching cap are not something I would normally wear, but I’m ready to step out of my comfort zone.

  I’m someone else now. I have been scarred, broken, and crushed. There’s barely anything of the old me left behind. The only part that remains is the one that loves my son, the one that’s willing to fight for him, to fight to get our lives back.

  Everything else has been destroyed by Cole and Brett.

  “Ma’am, are you getting off?” a pregnant woman asks from behind me.

  “Sorry,” I murmur when I realize I’m blocking the way. I get off the bus. When it drives off, I halt, suddenly afraid. I came all this way, but now I’m unsure of exactly what I’m looking for and if I’ll find it.

  What if I find nothing to prove Cole committed the murders?

  I still can’t figure out why he killed Janella. Did she really catch him killing Brett or is there more to this story that I’m not aware of?

  As I wander around the bus stop, I try to figure it out. When Janella’s face appears in my mind, the answers come rushing to me.

  She was a sad woman, but she was very beautiful. Like all the women who worked as maids at the Black Oyster Hotel. What if Cole or Brett did the same things to her? What if she was also their victim?

  The urge to vomit hits me so hard that I throw up my disgust into a nearby bush. A woman walking by curses under her breath and distances herself from me. I’m too far gone to care what anyone thinks of me vomiting in a public place.

  It makes sense to think that Janella was also molested by Cole or Brett. If they were capable of abusing their employees at the hotel, what would stop them from abusing her?

  Maybe that day, she warned Cole that she was going to the police. Maybe he saw no other way to protect himself but to kill her before she exposed him.

  They did it. I feel it. And it was happening right under my roof. Every part of my body knows that I’m right.

  When I moved into the house, she had probably already been victimized. That’s why she never smiled. She was hurting.

  I feel so dizzy that I need a moment to collect myself.

  The dark street is deserted with only the occasional person walking by. I had planned on staying at a hotel first and going to the cabin in the morning, but I can no longer wait. Cole has been walking free long enough.

  I straighten up, push my shoulders back, and wipe my mouth with a napkin from my handbag. I might feel weak inside, but nothing will stop me from seeking justice.

  I need to find evidence that will nail him once and for all. Brett is not alive to pay for his crimes, so Cole will have to pay for both. He has to go to prison. He has to hurt, to experience how it feels to be stripped of everything you knew, everything you cherished.

  The Brittle Rose cabin is in the woods, at least twenty minutes from the bus stop, so I take a taxi. It’s also safer than walking.

  During the drive, the taxi driver plays a few gospel songs on the radio. I wish they could soothe me, but only Cole’s arrest would do that. Still, I close my eyes and allow the music to wash over me.

  “Sir, would you mind waiting for me?” I ask when we arrive. I don’t want to be out here all alone.


  I gaze out the window into the darkness. Everything is pitch black. I don’t know if the spare key is still kept in the same spot as last time. If not, it doesn’t matter. I’ll find a way to get inside. I will break the windows if I have to.

  “No problem.” The man reaches for his headphones on the passenger’s seat. “Take all the time you need. But it will cost extra.”

  “That’s fine,” I say. I always walk around with my cash, keeping every penny I own near me in case something happens, and I have to run.

  Outside the taxi, the air is cool against my skin. It smells of flowers and pine. I remember loving the smells the one time I came with Brett. But this time, the fresh scents are laced with a note of danger.

  I make my way to the front door, glancing behind me to make sure the taxi is still waiting.

  To my surprise, the key is still in its usual place underneath a potted plant on the porch.

  In contrast to outside, the air inside is heavy, old, and tainted. Something is not right, and I feel it. I switch on the lights and it floods the luxurious cabin.

  The leather couch, massage chair, and expensive throw pillows and rugs make it a perfect bachelor escape. Some might find the place relaxing, but not me, not anymore. Standing inside it, I get a bitter tang in my mouth and an impulse to flee.

  A chilly black silence surrounds the place, daring me to disturb it. I’m dreading what it hides from the world. What secrets it’s harboring. I suddenly feel ill-equipped to take on this dangerous task, but it’s too late to turn back and I refuse to leave empty-handed.

  I dive into it without hesitation. There’s no time to waste. This might be my only chance to make things right for everyone who suffered at the hands of Cole Wilton.

  The power of hate is racing through my veins, giving me the courage I need to face the unknown.

  I want to be his greatest mistake ever. I want to make him regret the day he hired me, and especially the day he laid a hand on me.

  39

  The cabin has two bedrooms in total, but only one seems functional. The other is bare from floor to ceiling. Aside from the paneled walls and dark floorboards, there’s nothing inside it.

  I rub my arms to erase the goosebumps on my skin. Even the air is devoid of warmth.

  The last and only time I was at the cabin, we slept in the room that’s now empty. I would like to think Cole removed everything from it that had reminded him of Brett, because it hurt too much, but I know better. He had no love whatsoever for his son.

  Since there’s nothing to see, I step out of the room and head to the other bedroom. It has the same feel to it as Cole’s suite at the Black Oyster.

  As I stand in the doorway, my gaze taking in the vintage leather couch by the window that overlooks a lake, and the king-sized bed, it’s hard for me to breathe. It reminds me of the hotel and everything that happened there.

  I brace myself and step farther into the room. Searching it doesn’t take long. There’s nothing to find. The room may be furnished, but it’s still empty. The only thing in the closet is an empty designer suitcase. The drawers have been emptied, and the bathroom cabinets are bare.

  I search the rest of the cabin and come across a cupboard in the living room with three rifles propped up inside it. I step back, a heavy feeling settling in my stomach. I shut it again. Guns make me nervous.

  I hear something slamming, and I rush to the window in a panic. I’m relieved to see only the taxi driver. He’s smoking a cigarette outside his car. The sound I heard was probably of him shutting the car door.

  I drop the curtain and turn back to the room.

  Maybe this was a mistake. I came all this way without a clear plan of exactly what I was looking for. It’s not surprising that I didn’t find it. The best thing for me to do is probably to get out, but my hunger for revenge has me in a vice and refuses to let go.

  I need to bring Cole to justice so Clark and I can rebuild our lives without a dark cloud over our heads. The thought of running again exhausts me. Clark is the reason I search the cabin again. I need to prove Cole is guilty of murder, so I can be free to raise my son without fear.

  My son. Not Cole’s. Not Brett’s.

  I search every room again, including the kitchen, where I find an unfinished mug of coffee on the counter. It makes me suspect that Cole was at the cabin recently. I need to search faster and get the hell out.

  I don’t care that I’m moving things out of their usual places. Maybe a part of me wants him to know I was in the cabin.

  My search leads to nothing. It’s as if someone came and scrubbed the place clean, taking away all the secrets, leaving only tainted air and the scent of evil behind.

  I return to the empty room, standing in the middle, turning from one side to the other, wondering if there’s something I’m missing, something I can’t see. I’ve searched every nook, and yet I feel as if there’s something else hiding in the shadows.

  I pace the floor from one end to the other and run my hands along the walls. No success.

  There’s nothing here. It was foolish of me to think Cole would be so careless to leave evidence lying around in plain sight, especially since the key to the cabin was also easily accessible.

  I need to get out of the place, to head to the only hotel in town, and get some sleep. My head will be clearer in the morning and I will be able to make better decisions. I might have to get the cops involved. If I notify them of the cabin’s existence and location, they might be able to find something. But I won’t be here when they arrive. I won’t let them come near me until Cole is considered to be the prime murder suspect.

  Biting hard on my lower lip, I slump against one of the walls, drop my handbag to the floor and slide down next to it. I draw my knees to my body and hug them, resting my forehead against them.

  After sitting on the floor for a while, too weak to get up, I remember that the taxi driver is waiting for me outside. If I don’t want to pay a fortune, I have to go.

  As I shift my weight, struggling to get to my feet, the floor creaks underneath me.

  On my hands and knees, I crawl around the area. It’s not unusual for a floor to creak, but since I’m hunting for any clue that could lead me to the truth, a floorboard creaking could mean something different to me than it would someone else.

  I spring to my feet and start hopping at random places in the room. Only a quarter of the room has creaking floorboards.

  My heart is pounding in my ears when I get to my hands and knees again and feel the floor for more clues, slamming my fists into it.

  One of my nails snaps when I insert it between two slabs of wood, so I grab a knife from the kitchen to get the job done. Finally, one of the boards is loosened enough to reveal what’s hidden from the world.

  My instinct was right. I’m staring at the top of a brown box that has been taped shut.

  I get to work removing more of the floorboards to get full access to the box. There’s more than one box. I’m seeing at least three, all of them taped shut.

  Sweat is dripping from my forehead as I cut through the tape and start opening the first box without lifting it from its hiding place.

  It’s full of DVDs in white cases, at least a dozen of them. The spines of the cases are labeled with numbers.

  102. 201. 300. Only one of them has words.

  Honeymoon suite

  My chest tingles with dread.

  It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what I’m staring at. The DVDs are not random numbers. They’re room numbers.

  Cole is one sick bastard. He must have recorded people in their hotel rooms.

  Grabbing several DVDs, I get to my feet. I’ll watch them at the hotel and call the cops to get the rest. I’m about to leave the room when I spot another DVD in the box. The label on it catches my eye.

  Master bedroom

  I grab it as well.

  I should leave now, but now that I’ve discovered the place that might contain all the evidence, it would be a mistake to
get out without covering up my tracks. If Cole shows up, I don’t want him to know immediately that I found his hiding place and move the stuff before the police get to it.

  I do my best to spread out the rest of the DVDs in the box to create a flat surface, then slide the floorboards back into their place as best I can.

  I need to act fast. I can’t go to the hotel first. I haven’t watched the DVDs yet, but my heart tells me they have all the evidence I’ve been searching for. I need to call the police right away. I’ll wait in the taxi for them to arrive.

  What if there’s nothing on the DVDs?

  The thought makes me rethink my decision. What if it was a trap and the DVDs have nothing on them? If I call the police, I could end up being the one thrown behind bars.

  But I can’t shake the feeling that the DVDs hold the answers, that they’re the key to my freedom.

  To be on the safe side, I decide that I’ll call the cops and drive to the hotel to wait for whatever comes next. If they find something, it would be all over the news and I’d know whether or not I should come out of hiding.

  I reach for my handbag and rummage inside for my phone while gazing out the window to make sure the taxi is still outside. It’s still there, but I don’t see the driver. Dread creeps up on me as I bring my face closer to the glass to better search the darkness.

  I don’t see it coming. I don’t hear a thing. I only feel the pain that flares at the back of my skull. The bag drops to the floor and I follow it down, my head colliding with the floorboard.

  My eyes start to close but not before I see a man coming into view. Even through my blurred vision, I’m able to identify him.

  Cole is wearing the cab driver’s cap.

  “I knew you would come.” His voice cuts the silence. He sounds so distant and muffled, but the words are clear. “I left the key for you.”

  It was a trap, after all.

  As I drift in and out of consciousness, it occurs to me that he only mentioned the cabin to Clark at the motel because he wanted to remind me of its existence. He wanted to lure me to it. He figured out my plan even before me. He was a few steps ahead.