It probably wouldn’t work, anyway. We were no longer in traffic. There would be no one to see me wave.
I turned my attention to the idea of emerging from the trunk into the backseat. I’d seen cars where skis could be carried this way, but in the DeVille, the substantial spare tire was up against where the backseat would be located.
Breathe, Amelia. Stay calm. You need to figure out a plan of some kind before Dierdre comes back.
I lay there for what seemed a long time, thinking, waiting, giving thanks as best I could, trying to come up with something.
Gradually, a sound began to make its way into my consciousness. It was music of a sort, and it seemed somehow familiar. Yes, I recognized the tune, that dear, nasty, tuneless example of poor grammar, blasting into the calm night air at approximately 100 decibels:
Let’s you and I get wild tonight,
Wild child, wild child…
The FilthyDirtyBlokes! The base notes assaulted my midsection as they always did. Could it be? Could Serry possibly be here? I beat my fist against the lid of the trunk, but it my feeble pounding couldn’t begin to break through that wall of sound.
There might be a chance. I felt around for my phone, found it nestled under my shoulder and opened it. Please, please, please!
It was hard to move, but if I held it at an angle, I could get one thin bar on the little screen. I had to be quick the power indicated that, along with everything else, I was almost out of juice. I pressed Serry’s number.
It rang.
Oh, thank You, Lord!
It rang again. Oh, no, couldn’t she hear it over that terrible song?
“Hello?”
“Serry, where are you? Are you at Hobson’s Point?”
“Mrs. Dickensen? What? Me? No. I’m at home.”
The echoes of wild child, wild child in the background told me she was lying. “Please, Serry, I know you’re here. Listen to me, it’s a matter of life and death!”
“Who is it?” I heard a male voice say.
“My teacher. The one who’s tutoring me. You remember her, don’t you? When I hit the cat?”
I screamed into the cell phone. “Serry, listen! I know you’re at Hobson’s Point and I need your help!”
“What are you talking about? I’m at home. Turn down the volume for a second, would you?”
The pounding sound outside abated somewhat.
I heard Jason’s voice say, “Look at that cool old Caddy. I wonder what it’s doing here. ”
“Tell Jason I’m in the trunk of the Caddy,” I said.
“You’re what? Oh my goodness! What are you doing there? You want us to let you out? Jason, turn the music off and listen. We got to go open the trunk of that car over there.”
The relative silence was like a balm.
“Let me out? Yes—no—wait!”
It suddenly occurred to me that Dierdre might not take kindly to finding witnesses on the scene. And she had that gun. The gun that had killed Danny.
“Look, she’ll be back any minute. Turn the car around right now, drive away and call the police. Now! Tell them I’m here.”
“Waait a second, is this Corky? Are you doing your imitation of Miss Prentice again? You always fool me! You sound just like her!”
I kicked the trunk lid, bruising my toe. “It’s not Corky! Please! Go, now!”
“Who’ll be back any minute? Who’re you talking about? Who’s ‘she?’ ”
Please, Lord!
“Serry, if you ever trusted me, trust me this one more time and go—go right now! Please!” I was sobbing in frustration.
“Oh, okay. Jason, turn around. But, Miss Prentice, you got to promise me you won’t tell my dad I snuck out.”
“I promise! I promise! Just go!”
“Because I’m supposed to be grounded. That’s why I’m not at the concert. Jason and me were just—”
“Are you leaving?”
“We’re almost back to the road now.”
“Call the police!”
“I gotta hang up first.”
“Well then, goodbye.”
I breathed a stuttering sigh. Thank you, Lord, that Serry and Jason are out of danger.
Footsteps on gravel. I heard the Cadillac’s door open, then slam. Dierdre was starting the engine.
And thank you that people will know what happened to me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Perhaps it was because I was listening from a different perspective, so to speak, but the car’s engine sounded louder than before as it roared to life.
“Your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.”
The scrap of Scripture that floated into my head seemed appropriate under the circumstances. It did seem that I was about to be devoured, not by a lion, but by the lake that I loved. I had nearly drowned several times in my life and had some idea of the process. When the car hit the water, would it fill immediately with water? Or would the impact knock me out? Either way, not a pleasant prospect. I curled myself tighter into a ball and closed my eyes.
“Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor, nor . . . things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God.”
What do you know? I thought. I remembered that verse that I’d memorized in Sunday school.
“ . . . neither height, not depth, nor any other creature . . . height nor depth . . . height nor depth . . . ”
The car began to move. The roaring was louder now. I curled up tighter. We were bumping over the uneven gravel drive, and shortly we’d pass the row of trees and emerge onto the small parking lot. From there, it was only a matter of about forty feet before we’d reach the edge.
We were picking up speed.
Soon Diedre would have to jump from the car and then I’d really be alone.
Well, not totally alone.
“Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.”
More and more, the old beloved Bible verses were making themselves known to me once more. Jostled about in that dark box, I hugged them tightly to myself for comfort.
“Neither height nor depth . . . nor depth . . . ”
Faster and faster.
“ . . . the Valley of the Shadow of Death, Thou art with me . . . ”
Soon. It would be very soon . . .
The door of the Deville squeaked loudly. Dierdre was making her escape, jumping clear.
All at once, I heard a loud, unrepeatable oath.
Then, “Noooooo!”
A tremendous jolt slammed me up against the trunk door and out into the air.
~~~
The FilthyDirtyBlokes were singing:
Let’s you and I get wild tonight
Wild child, wild child
Don’t tell nobody
And I will, too,
Don’t tell nobody,
What we’re gonna do . . .
“Not again. Turn it down,” I moaned, “Too loud, too loud.”
“Turn it off again, Jason.” The music stopped. “Miss Prentice! Are you okay?”
I looked up into the face of Serendipity Shea. “I think so.”
I was half-lying, half-sitting in the field of high grass, a few feet from the open car trunk. By the headlights of Serry’s car, I could see that the hood of the Cadillac was embracing the trunk of a large maple, and I could hear one of the front tires leaking air with a loud hissing sound. The driver’s door stood open.
“What happened?” On hands and knees now, I pushed aside the tall fronds of grass and worked on an upright stance.
Jason hastened to assist me. “We were going to ask you the same thing. Looks like the car zoomed off the path and crashed into that tree. The impact slammed the trunk open, lucky for you.”
“Lucky?” I swayed a little and gripped the boy’s arm harder. “Not lucky. Miraculous. But you two shouldn’t have come back here.”
�
�We had to. We couldn’t leave you here.” Serry followed with the obvious question. “Where’s that woman who locked you in the trunk?”
How could I have forgotten her? “Dierdre? I—I don’t know. She was driving, I think. Maybe she’s in the car.”
Jason shook his head. “I looked.”
There was rustling in the grass a little way from the wreck. “Found it!” a hoarse but triumphant voice shouted.
Serry pulled my arm in the direction of her SmartforTwo. “Come on, hurry, get in the car!”
I turned gratefully in the direction of the tiny sedan, aware that it would be a tight fit for the three of us, but not caring.
The tall grass rustled some more. There was a loud metallic click. We turned and saw a dark figure rising up, trudging towards us from out of the darkness. It disappeared for a moment, apparently tripping on the uneven ground. There was the sharp report of a gunshot. One of the car windows shattered. We heard an oath, and then a shout, “Hold it, right there!”
Dierdre Jamison staggered onto the path, squinting into the halo of Serry’s headlights. I gasped. She gave new meaning to the word disheveled, with her hair going in every direction, a large smudge of dirt on one cheek and her left sleeve torn from elbow to shoulder. She was wearing one shoe, but I could hardly fault her for that. I had lost both of mine in the accident.
She pointed the gun directly at the two young people and actually said, “Stick ’em up!”
“Dierdre! Stop this nonsense!” I demanded. “You crashed the car. You’re probably hurt.”
“Like you care. Shut up! Listen, people, I’ve got a gun, as I’m sure you’ve noticed!” Dierdre walked closer and gestured with long barrel of the Teddy Roosevelt pistol. “Get over there, the three of you.” She held out her hand to Jason. “I’m outta here. You, kid, toss me the keys to that dinky thing.”
We all turned our gaze to the tall young man, waiting for him to comply. But instead, he crossed the ten-foot distance between them with a few long strides and easily wrenched the gun from Dierdre’s hand.
With an animal growl of frustration, she lunged at him. Shoving the gun in the waistband at his back, he grabbed both her wrists and held her at arm’s length, out of reach of her kick. Though fierce and desperate, she wasn’t very big, at least not in comparison to Jason. With a move that appeared almost balletic, he twirled the struggling woman around and held her wrists together behind her back.
“Go get that roll of duct tape in the glove box,” he said to Serry as we heard the sound of sirens in the distance.
“Oh yeah, I almost forgot to tell you, Miss Prentice,” she said as she handed over the tape, “We called the cops like you said.”
“Jason! What were you thinking grabbing the gun like that? She could have shot you!” I shuddered, though the night wasn’t at all cold.
“No big deal.” He finished wrapping the tape around Dierdre’s wrists. “Hold still! First of all, didn’t you hear her cock it right before she fired? Well, I did, and I knew that she hadn’t cocked it again. She must’ve forgot to do it. An old piece like that has to be cocked first before you fire it.”
He reached behind him and brought the gun in question around to be examined. I stepped back instinctively.
“You learn a lot about guns ’n stuff at Shea’s. See, here’s another thing: If the barrel’s pointed toward you and the light is good—she was standing in the headlights, you know—you can tell if there’s a bullet in the chamber. And there wasn’t. A bullet, I mean. She must’ve used up her last one when she fell down and shot the window.” He gestured to the wreck of the Cadillac.
“Hey, hold it! Not so fast, you!” He reached out a long arm and grabbed Dierdre’s shoulder. She had been trying to edge away from us into the darkness. “If the cops don’t get here quick, I’m going to have to tape up your feet too.”
On cue, flashing blue lights illuminated the overgrown field, and there was a crunching sound as a police vehicle came to a slow stop nearby.
Things weren’t resolved as quickly as I’d have liked because Dierdre kept claiming that we had kidnapped her and wrecked her car.
“Thank goodness you came! I thought they were going to kill me! It was this woman and those two hoodlums!” she shrieked as the police cut the tape off her wrists. “They ruined my husband’s beautiful car! Luther’s going to be so upset. We’ll sue! For wrongful wreckage or something!” She waved an accusing finger at us.
The police were especially wary of the gun, which Jason wisely handed over, handle toward them. “Who does this belong to?” one officer asked.
To whom does this belong? I thought. Even under the circumstances, I was on automatic grammar pilot.
Three of us pointed to Dierdre, who shook her head violently. “They’re lying! I’ve never seen it before! I mean, they used it on me, to kidnap me!”
Another police car pulled up as the officer said, “We’ll just have to work this all out in town, people.”
~~~
Three hours later, Gil was driving me home. “I about went crazy when I got to Chez Prentice and nobody knew where you were or where you’d gone. I tried calling you again, but kept getting voicemail.”
“Where’s—”
“Miss Janet’s having a sleepover at the B&B with her Aunt Lily,” Gil assured me, “At least half of her baby paraphernalia is there anyway, plus all those gifts. Lily said she won’t charge for babysitting if Marie doesn’t charge her for the room.”
And she has those two bottles of milk in the fridge, I remembered.
“So we have this night to ourselves.” I reached for his hand.
“What’s left of it. Look at the clock. One-thirty.” He yawned.
I reclined the passenger seat. “You’re right. I’ve been so keyed up through this, but now all of a sudden, I’m starting to feel like a limp rag.” I sighed.
“You’ve definitely had a rough night, but relax. You’re all right, those kids are all right, the baby’s okay. It’s all going to be fine, honey.”
“But Dierdre had a lawyer on the scene in no time flat. It’s a little bit worrying that they might believe her story. I mean, Jason was holding the gun when the police pulled up. They fingerprinted him and Serry and everything.”
Gil chuckled as he turned into our driveway. “That was just standard procedure. Besides, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about it,” he said in a mock-Southern accent. “I checked with the officers. They’ve towing the wrecked Cadillac into town as we speak, and tomorrow, the crime unit will be dusting the interior of the wrecked car for fingerprints. Which means—”
I finished for him, “Which means that they won’t find Jason’s or Serry’s prints on the interior of the car, so they couldn’t have driven it!”
“And what else, grasshopper?” Gil slid out of the driver’s seat and came around to open my door.
“That my prints won’t be on the steering wheel either, only Dierdre’s.” I got out of the car, my mind running on high gear once again. “Oh, dear, I don’t know if there’ll be evidence of my being in the trunk. I don’t know where my cell phone is.” I patted my skirt pocket. “Perhaps that could prove it.”
I sighed, slid my arms around my husband’s middle and laid my head on his chest. “I love you, Sensei!” I kissed his chin. “Now let’s go get some sleep.”
“Just one thing before we do that,” he said, unlocking the front door. “I want to show you what I found in Nimrod Rabideau’s journal.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I’m almost done. I finished carving the markers. I put them over the grave, drove them into the ground with the back of my axe. I didn’t know their names, so I carved the figure of a man on two of them and the other one was a woman’s. I’m not sure why I did it; it just seemed right. I sang a hymn, “It Is Well With My Soul,” and said the Lord’s Prayer. I hope that’s enough. They deserve more. They deserve better than to lie in the woods and nobody knows where they are.
; I’m not telling the police this time. They think I’m crazy anyway, and they might think I did it. I know I’m supposed to forgive, but I can’t stop remembering how they treated me about the singing. And the saw playing. If it wasn’t for Double Al, I’d still be in jail or maybe Dannemora Prison. So when the time comes, I’ll make sure he gets this, and then he can handle things.
Okay, Al, here it is. I was out checking my traps last week and heard some gosh-awful crashing and talking in the woods. I snuck up on my belly, being careful to stay in the bushes. What it was was a couple big guys in dark suits. They had a white van thing, a Ford with a New York license plate. The number ended in 399, I remember that much.
They were digging a big hole, real deep, and cussing all the time. They had nice shoes, city shoes. It was cold, you could see their breaths, and after a bit, both of them pulled off their jackets and hung them on a bush real near me. I could see they wore those holster things and had guns in them. After a bit one of them said the hole was deep enough. They opened the back doors of the van and pulled out a big thing wrapped in plastic that made a crackle sound. You could kind of see what it was through the plastic. It was a body, with a lot of blood on it.
One of the guys rolled it across the ground over to the hole and pushed it in with his foot, like it was garbage or something and did the same thing with the second one. The other guy picked up the third one in his arms and carried it over to the hole and threw it in. He said, “There you go, sweetheart,” and laughed. I’ll always remember that. It made me want to take after them with my hunting knife. But they had those guns. They filled in the hole real quick and put on their coats and drove away.
So there it is. I don’t know who those dead people were, but I know they deserved better that what they got. And I know that someday, those guys in the van will get what they deserve, even if it’s not in this life.
Murder in the Past Tense (Miss Prentice Cozy Mystery Series Book 3) Page 23