“As soon as he stopped, I jumped out of my car and ran over to him. I clocked him before he even got all the way out of the car, see?” She held out her hand where the knuckles were red and scratched. Sadie could imagine that punching the trunk of a car could do that kind of damage. “We had a pretty good little brawl, but you probably heard all that.”
Sadie nodded again but felt sick to her stomach. Sick enough that she worried she would throw up. Tears welled up in her eyes. She could feel Jane looking at her but couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Are you okay?” Jane asked.
Sadie was cold, and she couldn’t stop shaking. The nausea was getting worse by the minute. How did Shawn factor into this? Had the paramedics reached Gabrielle in time?
Jane’s hand on Sadie’s shaking leg made Sadie jump in her seat and instinctively pull toward the door. “I’m fine,” Sadie said, forcing herself to relax. Was Jane behind everything? The unlocked doors? The face in the window? Sadie thought about the trip to the gallery this afternoon. Jane must have planted the paint sample for Sadie to find. The stage makeup could have been in her own pocket when she opened the trunk. So many details, such flawless execution. It was so bizarre, so . . . unreal.
Jane stared at her too long, and Sadie swallowed. “I think I’m in shock.”
Jane nodded and looked back to the road. More details came into focus in Sadie’s mind. Was it Jane who had her kicked out of the hotel? The security guard had called her Mrs. Hoffmiller, while Gabrielle had always called her Mrs. Hoffman. She took a deep breath and prayed for a way out of this. Stay calm. Keep your wits about you. Be wise. Sadie took a breath and sat up a little straighter.
“Are you all right?” Sadie made herself ask. She had to try to act natural, the way she would act if she wasn’t putting all this together in her mind. Jane changed lanes, cutting off another driver, but didn’t react when the car swerved to the side and honked loudly. Sadie stared out the windshield and tried to hold back her rising fear. “He beat you up pretty good,” she added when Jane didn’t respond. She tried to keep her tone light even though it killed her to be kissing up. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t gotten there in time to follow Gabrielle’s car.”
“I don’t know what you would have done either,” Jane said with a cocky half grin. She leaned toward the door, driving with one hand. “It seems like I’m always there when you need me, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” Sadie said, nodding, wondering if that was Jane’s motive. Did Jane want to be the hero at any cost? Even if it meant creating the events that necessitated her coming to the rescue? The black thought clouded Sadie’s mind as something Shawn had said came back to her: “She really looks up to you, Mom.” Was this somehow Sadie’s fault? Had Jane used Mrs. Wapple as a means for being needed? Sadie closed her eyes against the tears. When she opened them a moment later, she had to blink rapidly to clear her vision.
“What’s wrong?” Jane snapped, glancing at Sadie suspiciously. Pete had said psychopaths hated being questioned and felt justified in whatever they did so long as it worked toward their goal. Sadie thought of the way Jane smiled about lying to people, the overall arrogance she exuded that whatever she did was right.
“I’m . . . just”—Sadie took a breath—“I’m just so grateful, Jane.” She sniffed and let her left arm rest in her lap. She needed a tissue, but of course she didn’t have her purse with her, and she didn’t want to ask for one. Finally, she wiped her nose on the sleeve of her jacket, dropping yet another rung on the ladder of humility and desperation. “You’re a hero, Jane.”
Jane beamed, though the arrogance took away from the brightness. “I guess I am,” she said, happy to own the title. “You’re lucky to have me around, aren’t you?”
“I sure am,” Sadie said. “How far are we from the police station, do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Jane said. “Why?” She was shifting so quickly between arrogance and paranoia that Sadie knew she needed to be careful.
“I bet Pete is worried sick,” Sadie said. “Do you think I could use your phone and call him? I’d like to let him know that . . . you’re taking care of me and that because of you I’m all right.”
“It might do him good to worry about you a little,” Jane said. “You know, there are things in Pete’s past, Sadie, things you should know about.”
Sadie nearly defended him, but her mouth stayed closed. “Really? Then maybe I should call Detective Lucille. Someone should know we’re coming so that they’re ready for us, don’t you think?”
Jane considered that and then reached into her coat. “I’d rather you call Pete,” she said, toggling through her phone with one hand while driving with the other. Sadie really wished she had a chance to fasten her seat belt. “He might be a detective, but he’s not the one who saved you, was he?”
“No,” Sadie said, looking hungrily at the phone in Jane’s hand as she tensed with anxiety. “He wasn’t there when I needed him.”
“No kidding,” Jane said. “In fact, he’s pretty much failed you in every way this trip. He couldn’t protect you, could he?” She handed Sadie the phone. “Just hit the call button,” she said, saving Sadie from having to respond to Jane’s stated failures on Pete’s part.
Sadie hit call and forced herself to breathe as she came up with a split-second plan. Pete had told her the police hated coincidences and patterns. She could only hope she could point them out enough for him to recognize the important details. Right after the second ring, Pete answered. “This is Detective Cunningha—”
“It went to voice mail, Jane,” she said loudly, directing the comment toward Jane. “I’ll just wait for the beep and leave a message.” She put the phone back to her ear and prayed that Pete would play along. She cleared her throat, hopeful that this would work since Pete had fallen silent, and then started talking as though she’d heard the telltale beep. “Pete, it’s me, Sadie. Jane’s bringing me to the JP police station right now. You’ll never believe what happened, and I can’t tell you everything right now but, basically, Jane saved my life. She’s a hero, Pete, and she’s taking me to the station so that we can both give statements about the man who tried to kidnap me in Gabrielle’s car. Jane got there just in time to follow him. It’s been really scary, Pete, and if not for Jane being in the right place at the right time, I wouldn’t be here right now. I just want you to know that I’m okay, and I’ll be able to explain everything better when I see you.”
She stayed on the line for another second even though she’d run out of things to say, mindful of Pete on the other end, trying to make sense of what she’d just told him. She wished she dared say something else or ask him to hurry to the station to meet her there. “Bye,” she finally said, then hung up the phone. Jane immediately snatched it from her and put it back in her pocket.
While she’d been on the phone, Jane had exited the freeway. The silence was brittle, and Sadie could feel her heart hammering in her chest. Hold on, she told herself, the fingers of her right hand gripping the armrest. Hold on.
Sadie started recognizing the buildings and intersections of Jamaica Plain, but the fog had rolled in like it had in Boston and that, combined with the dark of night, made it harder to see exactly where they were. Jane began telling her story again, adding more details to increase the level of her heroism.
“How did you fix the tire, Jane?” Sadie asked. “Did you call AAA?”
“Turns out someone had just let the air out of it. I have a small pump in my emergency kit in the back.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “It was pretty slick.”
How long would that take? Sadie wondered. If Jane dropped Sadie off at the T station in Forest Hills at 8:20 and then went back to get her own car, pumped up the flat tire, and drove to the remote road, left her car, ran to the gas station and called a cab, could she still have made it to the gallery by 10:00?
“I’m glad,” Sadie said. “I’m sure whoever did it expected the repair would take l
onger.” Had Jane done it herself to make sure they drove together? Had she hoped that would keep her with Sadie for the meeting at the café? Or was she making it all up as she went along?
Salvation was less than a block away once they turned onto Washington Street.
Jane put on her blinker and began to slow down when the police station appeared. Sadie counted four police officers appearing out of the fog like sentries, but she didn’t see Pete among them. It was a futile hope to expect he would still be at the police station, but as Jane pulled to the curb, Sadie saw Pete push through the front doors. Her chest became tight, and she grabbed the door handle, ready to run as soon as the car came to a stop. Pete held her eyes, and she couldn’t blink for fear of losing the connection.
“What’s wrong with them?” Jane said, the car still moving.
Sadie looked from Pete to Jane and then to the police, not sure what she meant, but then she noticed the expressions on their faces. Grim, austere, professional. That blasted detective face was worn by every one of them, Pete included. The officers had their hands on their hips or at their sides; one had his hand on his sidearm. Their dispositions were not subtle. “They’ve probably just had a long day,” Sadie said. She forced a smile and hoped Pete would get the message to follow suit and play things cool.
“Something’s wrong,” Jane said.
“No, no, nothing’s wrong,” Sadie said quickly. “Everything’s fine, just pull up.”
Instead, Jane hit the gas and pulled back into traffic.
Chapter 40
No!” Sadie screamed as Pete’s face moved past her window. “No, Jane, stop!” She pulled on the door handle, but with the car moving the automatic locks were in place. She pulled again anyway. “Stop!” she shouted. She craned around in the seat, but Jane was really punching it, and the only thing Sadie saw were the police scattering in the wake of Jane’s dramatic exit.
“You can’t trust anyone,” Jane said, taking a corner so fast the tires squealed. She drove into oncoming traffic to pass a truck, then pulled back into their lane and laid on the horn to get the car ahead of them to move out of the way.
“Jane, please,” Sadie said, a catch in her voice. “Please, stop, go back. You don’t want the police to think you have something to hide.” She looked behind her again, hoping to see flashing lights, but she saw only regular headlights and endless fog.
“They can’t be trusted, Sadie,” Jane said, swerving around another car. “I should never have tried to take you back. They’ll turn you against me. Everything’s gotten too out of control.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Sadie said, her fear giving way to anger. “Take me back, Jane. Let me explain what happened. Running away will only make things worse.”
Jane started to slow down at a red light, but at the last minute, she stomped on the gas again and shot through the intersection. Sadie didn’t know where they were, only that there were cars lining both sides of the streets and tall buildings on either side. “Let me out of this car this instant, Jane!” Sadie yelled, pressing herself against the door so as not to be flung around.
“Don’t yell at me, Sadie!” Jane screamed back. “And don’t tell me what to do!”
The yelling spurred Sadie to go silent as she remembered who she was dealing with. She couldn’t afford to let her emotions and fear overwhelm her ability to reason through this situation. “I’m sorry,” Sadie said in calm tones. “Where are we going now, then?”
“Stop asking so many questions,” Jane said sharply. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly and her jaw was set.
Sadie pinched her lips shut and looked around, trying to figure out where they were. They passed a street sign: Green Street. But she couldn’t tell which direction they were heading. “Um, did I tell you Shawn’s coming into town?” she said, hoping she could calm Jane down. “He said he’d be here around two o’clock.”
“I told him to come,” Jane said, just as sharply as before. “I did, Sadie. Gosh, you just can’t give me credit for anything, can you?”
“I-I’m sorry,” Sadie said. “I, um . . .”
“You don’t appreciate anything I do for you,” Jane said, cutting her off. “I work your cases, I come to Boston even though you won’t invite me for dinner, I bring your son to you—I’ve done so much and yet you see Pete at the police station, and it’s like he’s the one who saved your life, not me.”
Sadie didn’t know what to say for fear of making it worse but noted that Jane clearly saw Pete as a threat.
“It’s not like I ask for much, Sadie,” Jane continued. There was less traffic now and she’d slowed down a little. Sadie looked in the side mirror but still didn’t see any red and blue lights. Where were the police? “All I want is a little appreciation and acknowledgment, but instead you keep things from me, you avoid me and try to do everything yourself. What does it take to convince you how much you need me?”
Sadie remained silent, but Jane reached over and slapped Sadie’s leg. Her face was hard and angry. “You can’t even answer a simple question?”
They passed a sign on the side of the road that said Jamaica Pond with an arrow pointing forward. Sadie knew where she was now. Jamaica Pond was a small lake surrounded by woods and a walking path. If Sadie could get out of the car and into those woods...
“I do need you, Jane. You’ve helped me so much, and I’ve been very ungrateful.” Sadie could see the glowing orbs of an upcoming traffic light in the fog, which was thicker than ever, but that might work in her favor. She glanced at the passenger door, lining up the unlock button and the handle while she calculated how quickly she would need to move between them, wishing she’d thought of this option when she had been in front of the police station. A roll on the pavement would be better than staying here with Jane. Safer, too.
“Yes, you have been ungrateful,” Jane said, but she seemed slightly appeased. “I know how people think, Sadie. I know how to get information no one else can get. I know how to ask the right questions and be exactly what people need me to be. You don’t have any idea what I’m capable of, no idea what I can do when I put my mind to it.”
Jane rolled to a stop behind an SUV turning left at the T intersection. Once they completed the turn, they’d be following the road that wrapped around the pond. There were still no sirens or police lights behind them. Sadie couldn’t believe the police weren’t pursuing them. How could Jane get away from a whole police department so easily? Ahead, however, Sadie could see trees shrouded with thick fog; it must be worse due to Jamaica Pond being so close. There was no fence around the park, meaning she had a straight shot to the trees she could use as cover.
Jane kept talking, but Sadie’s focus was elsewhere. The light turned green, and Sadie rested her right hand on her leg, waiting and trying not to think about the upcoming pain. The SUV accelerated slowly, and Jane had no choice but to follow. She pulled into the intersection and turned smoothly.
As soon as they were on Jamaicaway, Jane began accelerating. Sadie took a breath, said a prayer, and then pressed the unlock button, pulled the handle, and threw herself out of the car and toward the curb, hoping she’d stay out of oncoming traffic.
She knew there were probably squealing tires and horns, but the ricocheting pain she felt in her hip, shoulder, and everywhere else overtook all her senses for a minute, causing her to scream despite her determination not to make a sound. Within moments of impact, however, she scrambled to her feet and ran—or rather, limped—into the fog-steeped trees, cradling her left arm with her right and trying to maintain her balance.
She kept going and cut left, heading for the thickest grove of trees she could see despite visibility being less than fifteen feet. She couldn’t hear anything other than the sound of her own breathing and heart rate but she kept going, sure that Jane was right behind her, waiting for Sadie to look over her shoulder and see her there so she would have her moment of power. Sadie continued running and felt the adrenaline pumping, overtaking the pai
n, at least for now. Thank goodness!
A tree root took her off guard, but she was able to fall to her right side and better brace the impact. The dirt and leaves were a much softer surface than the pavement had been, but it seemed to take forever to get to her feet, her balance thrown off by her overall disorientation. She hobbled to an area dark with trees and shrubs and slid down the trunk of a large oak. She tried to reposition her left arm and catch her breath. She pulled her knees to her chest as best she could and focused on taking deep breaths to dispel the panic.
She hoped Jane would just leave her, knowing that trying to find her would increase her chances of getting caught. When a minute passed and then another without a sound, Sadie felt her hope increasing and her breathing and heart rate even out. She would wait as long as she had to—an hour if necessary—then she would find the walking path that looped the lake and walk to a different entrance. She’d find a phone, call the police, and tell them everything. They’d find Jane and all of this would be over. The fantasy was clarifying in her mind, and she could even visualize the look on Pete’s face when she saw him again. It would all work out.
Pumpkin Roll Page 32