“Why not? It’s a nice rig. I think Ginger would look good in it.” He smiled. “And you can borrow it when your old clunker is at the car doctor. That seems to happen a lot lately.”
“Tell me about it.” Driving a shiny new pickup once in a while held major appeal. It was a pain to have to ask Harry or Nick for a ride every time my car was in the shop.
On the way to our motel, I filled Nick in on what I’d learned from Brenda and about DeeDee’s name being DeGraw and not O’Brien. I described Jackie Poole’s sneaky phone call with CJ, whose initials matched those of DeeDee’s admitting physician. Nick thought the news about James at DeeDee’s bedside was significant, and the Phyllis and Jackie Poole coincidence worth pursuing, but neither was proof of anything.
“Maybe we’ll get the rest of the story when we meet your friend Laurie tonight.”
Back in my room at the motel, I asked Nick about the other two names on our list.
“I think we can forget about Angela Winkle. She moved to Canada six months ago.”
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll give her a pass for now. What about Carson Littletree?”
“I drew a blank.”
“Maybe Laurie would recognize the name.”
“Maybe. She might not know who killed Cody, but she knows something, and someone wants to get to her before she tells.”
“Do you think that whoever is looking for her has figured out what we’re up to?”
“It’s very possible. Do you want to back out now?”
It was a good question. Why was I risking both our necks? For Cleo’s sake? So we could protect her Siggy from Phyllis Poole, who might be completely harmless? Or better yet, whose surgical skill might save Sig’s life?
“Not yet,” I said. “Let’s hear what Laurie has to say, then decide.”
Nick responded with a quiet chuckle. “You’re not fooling me. This riddle has you locked in a grip as tight as a pit bull’s jaw.”
The sun was down and stars were winking by the time we reached the nearly full parking lot of the Blue Banjo a few minutes before ten. Nick and I sat in the pickup inhaling the new car smell and wondering if any of the vehicles in the lot was Laurie’s ride. The only one we’d seen at her parents’ home was the vintage Plymouth Fury, and it was nowhere in sight.
Nick unlocked the glove compartment and took out his 22 caliber semi-automatic pistol. He slipped it into a shoulder holster I hadn’t noticed under his windbreaker. A chill inched down the back of my neck, but I didn’t comment.
At ten o’clock, a white GMC pickup with a camper shell pulled into the lot and parked. The driver’s door didn’t open, but Laurie stepped out on the passenger side. She glanced around the lot, gave a little wave toward the driver, who remained in the vehicle, then squared her shoulders and headed for the bar’s entrance door. She had arranged for someone to wait for her—look out for her. Smart girl.
Nick and I waited for a couple of minutes then followed Laurie inside.
We stopped just inside the door to take in the room. A live blues combo was doing its rendition of Eric Clapton’s “Stormy Monday.” We spotted Laurie alone at a table in a dark corner as far away from the bandstand as possible.
“Go on over,” Nick said. “I’ll get a couple of beers from the bar.”
I walked toward Laurie, trying to fake a bar patron’s attitude and feeling like I was overacting. When I reached her table, she looked up at me as if we were strangers. I figured she must have a reason so I played along.
“Hi,” I said. “Would you mind some company?”
“Sorry, I’m waiting for someone.” Laurie kept her expression neutral.
Nick approached with a beer in each hand and I gave him a warning frown. “I thought we might share this table, but this woman is waiting for someone.”
“No problem.” Nick gestured with his elbow at an empty table across the room, and I followed him.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Let’s give her a few minutes.” Nick leaned over and nuzzled my ear. “Don’t pull away,” he whispered. “Fake it until we figure out what’s going on with her.”
“Do you think she’s being watched?”
“Looks like she thinks so. Let’s see if she gives us any kind of signal.”
We watched Laurie make a call on her cellphone. She appeared to be in a heated conversation. After a minute she frowned, jammed her phone in the pocket of her jeans and walked toward the restrooms.
“Go,” Nick said.
Laurie stood at the mirror inside the two-stall restroom. “Let’s do this quickly while we’re alone in here,” she said.
“Okay, first question. Why did you try to reach me about Cody instead of going to the police?”
“I’m sure the horse didn’t kill Cody, but I don’t have proof. I needed to tell someone what I knew and thought of you because you have some knowledge of forensics and because I knew I could trust you to be discreet.”
“Laurie, we don’t have much time. Nick and I are here to help you, but we need to know what happened the night Cody died.”
“I was Cody’s floor nurse that night. He was restless but when I asked if he wanted anxiety meds, he said he’d changed his mind and didn’t want the surgery. He wanted to leave the hospital. I explained that he’d already waited too long to have his ruptured testicle repaired. I reassured him that Dr. Poole was an excellent surgeon.”
I tried not to react to that piece of news. Apparently whatever Laurie knew had nothing to do with Dr. Poole. I wanted to explore that further, but I let her go on with her story.
“Cody said he wasn’t afraid of the surgery, but he was afraid someone wanted to kill him, and he knew he’d be helpless if he was confined and sedated.”
“Did you believe him?”
“Not until he told me someone had already made an attempt. He showed me a scab on his right shoulder where he said a bullet grazed him a few days earlier when he’d been out riding his horse in the foothills.”
“Someone shot at him? Did he report it?”
“He said the sheriff’s office took his report, but they thought it was a deer hunter’s stray bullet.”
“So you helped him sign out against medical advice?”
“Yes, but there’s more.” I could see doubt in her eyes. Could she really trust me?
“Laurie, I know you fled Timbergate because someone broke into your home.”
“How do you know about that?”
“We went there looking for you and saw the broken door jamb. Do you know who it was?”
“Only that it had to be Cody’s killer, and he must think I know who he is. Do the police know about the break-in?”
“I don’t think so. We didn’t report it. Are you sure it was a man?”
“I assumed it was when I heard the door crashing in, but I didn’t wait around to find out.”
“You asked Nick and me to meet you here. Why are you pretending you don’t know us?”
“We needed a place to talk, but now I think this was a bad idea. The bartender is a friend of mine. When I came in he told me someone who wasn’t a regular had been asking about me earlier this evening.”
“Did you ask for a description?”
“I did, but he said the guy was wearing a hoodie and dark glasses.”
“Dark glasses in a bar? Sounds like he didn’t want to be recognized.” No wonder Laurie was nervous.
Laurie looked in the mirror, shook her head. “I thought I’d be safe in Idaho, but I made a big mistake. I left my laptop behind. Was it still there when you were in my house?” The image of her laptop, first there and then gone, came to mind.
“No, but whoever has it didn’t think to take it for several days. That gave you a good head start. What kind of information was on it?”
“My Facebook profile. Hometown, that kind of thing. Damn. If someone decided to track me all the way to Idaho, I’ve put my family in danger.” She opened the cold water tap and cupped her hands under the flow. Sh
e rinsed her face and dried it with a paper towel.
The restroom door opened and two blue-eyed blondes who looked like twins came in and went to the stalls. Laurie mouthed, I have to leave. She pulled out a pen, wrote a phone number on a piece of paper towel and handed it to me.
I waited a minute after she left, then went out to report to Nick. The combo was doing a rendition of “I Smell Trouble,” and Nick was swaying on the dance floor with a red-haired amazon who had both arms draped around his neck and her body pasted against his. Trouble, indeed.
He spotted me and raised his eyebrows. I scanned the room for Laurie. We couldn’t let her get away when we had only part of her story. I marched up to Nick and the redhead and did my best impression of a jealous girlfriend.
“Hey, sister, that’s my man you’re mauling. Get lost.”
She looked down her nose at me without letting go of Nick. “You gotta be kidding.” She looked at Nick. “Isn’t she Mongolian or something?”
I narrowed my eyes and gave her a fierce glare that would have made both my Chinese and Portuguese ancestors proud. “Beat it, or you won’t be able to dance for a year.”
She looked at Nick again. “Is she for real?”
“You better believe it,” Nick said. “She can kick my ass, so I’d hate to see what she’d do to you.” He disentangled himself and walked me back to our table.
“What was that all about?” I said.
“Just trying to blend in.”
“Great idea, Nick. Where’s Laurie?”
“She took off out of here just before you came out of the restroom. Did you get her story?”
“Not all of it. We were interrupted, but she gave me this.” I showed him the scrap of paper with the phone number and told him what Laurie said about Cody being grazed by a bullet when he was out riding. “He was afraid someone was trying to kill him.”
“So he didn’t lose his nerve about the surgery and the woman doctor? That’s not why he left the hospital?”
“No, Laurie said he left because he was afraid he’d be an easy target if he was stuck in a hospital bed recovering from surgery.”
“Let’s go.” He put an arm around my waist. “She’s only been gone a few minutes. Maybe she’s waiting outside. If not, we’ll call her.”
We scanned the parking lot looking for the white GMC pickup Laurie had arrived in, but it was gone. We went to Nick’s new pickup and sat in the cab working out our next move. I wanted to call the phone number right away, but Nick wanted to wait while we watched the exit to see if anyone else left right away—someone who might be keeping track of Laurie. He rolled the windows down to catch any sounds from outside the roadhouse.
“What did she say about the black pickup we saw in the wilderness?” Nick asked. “Did she say who that was?”
“No, we didn’t get to that before she left.”
“Did you ask her if she knew someone named Carson Littletree?”
“No, there wasn’t time. All I got was Cody’s fear that someone wanted him dead. And her fear that the same someone is after her.”
Then a piece dropped into place. That’s why Cody called James from the hospital and asked him to come to California right away. He needed someone he trusted. He needed his brother. But I had to wonder if his trust in James was a mistake. Everyone in the O’Brien family seemed to have a hidden agenda. Why should James be an exception?
A sudden popping sound caught us off guard. It took a second before either of us realized a bullet had passed through our open windows and grazed the back of Nick’s right hand, resting on the steering wheel.
“Get down.” Nick shoved me toward the floorboard, turned on the ignition, and spun the truck around toward the road. Another bullet hit the rear window, which exploded into a million fragments.
“Damn,” Nick said. “Stay down.”
He pulled onto the highway and jammed the gas pedal to the floorboard. The truck’s tires squealed in agony and the cab filled with the smell of burning rubber. I listened for the sound of more gunfire but heard nothing more than air rushing past our open windows. After several minutes of high-speed twists and turns, Nick finally eased up on the accelerator and stopped yelling at me to stay down. By then I was cramped and queasy.
“Can I come up now?” I said.
“Yeah. It looks like the shooter didn’t follow us.”
I managed to scramble up and fasten my seatbelt. “Any idea why not?”
“Hoping to scare us away, but not willing to risk being involved in a second murder, would be my guess.”
“Your hand’s hurt. It’s dripping blood.”
“It’s just a scratch.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. “Here, wrap this around it.” He reached his hand out.
I wrapped it and tied it off, but blood still leaked through enough to stain the white cloth.
“What do we do now?”
“Call that phone number.”
Chapter 21
I punched in the number from the scrap of paper towel. Laurie answered right away, asking where we were. I said someone had taken shots at us in the parking lot and we were headed north. When I assured her that no vehicles were following us, she gave me directions to a small church on the outskirts of Dunnsville.
Minutes later we spotted the church on a sparsely populated street. The parking lot looked empty. Nick pulled in and drove around behind the building. The white GMC pickup sat there alone. Nick pulled up next to it. A man with dark hair in braids sat behind the wheel. He rolled his window down and pointed a small handgun toward us.
“Tell me your names and be quick.”
Nick pressed me back against the seat. “I’m Nick Alexander and she’s Aimee Machado. Laurie Popejoy’s expecting us, so put the damn gun away or we’re through here.”
The gun disappeared. I ventured a guess. “Are you Carson Littletree?”
“My name’s none of your business. Laurie’s waiting for you inside. Use the back door. If you hear any commotion out here, you’d better make damned sure she stays safe.”
There was sparse light inside the small building, but we made out the shape of a woman sitting toward the front in a simple wooden pew. We walked over to her.
“Laurie?” I whispered.
She turned and pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone to the roadhouse.” She spotted the bloody handkerchief wrapped around Nick’s hand. “Are you okay?”
“It’s not serious,” Nick said, “but we don’t want the shooter to find us and try again, so let’s get this done. First, who’s the guy outside in the white pickup?”
“He’s my husband.”
Nick and I exchanged astonished glances. It took me a minute to let go of my fantasy of Laurie and Tobias Fausset as a couple. Nick recovered faster.
“Jesus, lady, you’d better start explaining. And you can begin by telling us your husband’s name. Is it Carson Littletree?”
It was Laurie’s turn to be surprised. “No, his name is Daniel Littletree. Carson is his brother, the owner of the Blue Banjo.” She looked from Nick to me. “How do you even know about Carson? He’s so protective of his privacy, he even owns the road house under a fictitious name.”
We explained about the black F150 and how we’d used the DMV website to search for the names of some of Patterson’s Motors’ customers. I wondered if Carson Littletree might have been in the black pickup that clipped our rental car earlier at the Blue Banjo. I told Laurie what happened and asked if she’d heard anything about it from Carson or her husband.
“Daniel and I saw Carson this afternoon,” Laurie said. “His pickup looked as flawless as always. It’s fairly new and he’s a pretty careful driver.”
“Then it had to be the guy who’s after you. He was checking the place out like we were. How would he have known we planned to meet here? Did you tell anyone?”
“I can’t think …. Wait, I did tell one person. My Aunt Brenda. But she wouldn’t have any
reason to tell anyone else. I trust her completely. She even knows Daniel and I are married.”
“Why did you tell her about tonight?” I asked.
“She called just after you left, asking if everything was okay. I tried to reassure her that everything was fine, that the harassment issue had been blown out of proportion. I said Daniel and I were meeting friends for drinks tonight.”
“Did you say where?”
“I might have mentioned the Blue Banjo. She knows Daniel’s brother owns it, so she would have expected us to go there.” Laurie shook her head. “But Aunt Brenda wouldn’t betray me.”
“Of course not, but we need to move on,” I said. “Your husband is understandably short on patience, and we still have a lot of questions.”
“First, who met you in the wilderness?” Nick asked. “That wasn’t your husband’s pickup.”
Laurie drew a breath and released it in a heavy sigh. “I’ll try to explain the whole story.
“I heard someone breaking into my house just before dawn on Tuesday morning. I’d only been back home from the incident involving Cody for about two hours. I climbed out my bathroom window and managed to get out of town without being followed. I headed up into the mountains as far as Uncle Fudd’s Tavern. By the time I got there, I had heard on my car radio that Cody was dead. I watched the television news in Uncle Fudd’s bar, hoping that someone had been arrested for killing Cody so I could go back and tell what I’d witnessed.”
“Then why did you call in and resign from TMC?” I asked.
“I couldn’t go to work, but I didn’t want anyone at the hospital to think I was sick or missing. Nothing that would draw attention to me. I wanted an excuse to disappear, so I said I had a family emergency out of state. I rented a cabin across from Uncle Fudd’s and spent Tuesday night there. That’s when I called you and Cleo. Neither of you answered, so I left messages.” She shivered. “Then I panicked and destroyed my phone.”
“But you called me the second time from Uncle Fudd’s phone on Wednesday night. How long did you stay in the cabin?”
“Only until Thursday morning. I decided I had to call Daniel. If he couldn’t reach me on my cellphone, he’d be worried. I called him from Uncle Fudd’s right after I called you, Aimee. He said his GMC had been sideswiped in an accident and was being repaired, so he borrowed Carson’s pickup to drive to California. He said he’d meet me in the Thousand Lakes Wilderness as soon as he could get there.”
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