A Good Day to Buy

by Sherry Harris

  Lesley snickered and Charlie laughed.

  “What?” I asked, looking back and forth between them.

  “They get so loaded, they would tell you the Pope had been in here if you asked,” Lesley said. “I have a cab on standby on the nights they’re here. As soon as I see them gather their things, I send the cab driver a quick text.” She smiled. “He hasn’t let me down yet. They make it home safely, and the next morning when they come back for their car, they leave a huge tip. It’s a win-win.”

  “You take good care of your customers,” I said.

  “I try,” Lesley said.

  Charlie nodded. “So have you heard anything new about who killed Mr. Spencer?”

  “I haven’t.” I didn’t want to tell her I’d found out he wasn’t really a veteran. It still hurt that he’d lied to me because I had liked him so much. I also felt some empathy to Mrs. Spencer in a coma in her hospital bed, not knowing what was going on.

  Lesley hefted the tray of drinks she’d assembled. We watched as she distributed them. At the card players’ table, she slipped the drinks in unobtrusively. She chatted with the women for a few minutes, and they turned to look at Charlie and me. One held up her glass of wine to us. Lesley moved on to the group of four men. There, she tossed her hair and cocked a hip, smiling as she put down the drinks and chatted. I could tell she was flirting and the men were enjoying it. No wonder they were good tippers.

  One threw his head back and made a strange hoot-like laugh. I’d heard that before, but where? It wasn’t the night at DiNapoli’s. They’d been pretty low-key there. It was too noisy for it to have been here on karaoke night. I closed my eyes to concentrate. The videos I’d watched about stolen valor. I opened my eyes. That was it and I was right about them.

  I heard the hoot again and whipped my head around. I made eye contact with the hooter. His eyes narrowed and he leaned over to the man next to him, whispering something in his ear. That man looked over at me too and not in a friendly way.

  “I have to go, Charlie,” I said as I gathered my stuff. What they were doing might not be illegal, but if they had something to do with Mr. Spencer’s death CJ needed to know. I told Charlie good-bye and waved to Lesley as I headed out.

  * * *

  I stood outside, looking over the parking lot. Stars popped, a light wind blew, and light sweater weather was settling in. There were no big pickup trucks with king cabs like the one in the photo. I slid my keys out of my purse as I hustled to my Suburban. I clicked the locks open, tossed my purse across to the passenger seat, and heard a noise behind me. Before I could turn, something hard whacked the back of my head. The keys slipped out of my hand. My knees buckled. I tried to grab the car seat to stop collapsing, but my brain wasn’t communicating commands to my limbs. My chin bounced on the edge of the runner, jarring me. I was a fast-forwarded version of the Wicked Witch of the West melting. That was my last thought as I hit the pavement.

  Chapter 35

  I woke to a gentle swaying, but I couldn’t see anything. I tried to stretch out, to turn, but I was in a small space. My knees pressed against my chest as I was almost tucked in a fetal position. A picture of Mrs. Spencer flashed through my head. I fought back panic. Focus, Sarah. Breathe. I patted around me and touched rough carpeting below me and metal above.

  The noise I heard was tires on pavement. I was in the trunk of a moving car. Again. A year ago, I’d been tossed in the back of my Suburban under very different circumstances. But no less scary. At least this time no duct tape was involved. I swallowed. Yet. I had to use that to my advantage.

  I pounded on the interior of the trunk lid, but since I wasn’t able to extend my arm, the noise was more of a light tap than anything that would draw any attention. It was too cramped to kick. How long had I been back here? I had no concept of time. Was this the car that had been seen leaving the woods the day the Spencers had been murdered? Or the one that had U-turned when I’d been parked in front of their house the first time I’d met Tim there?

  I hoped not. I tilted as the car turned and bounced onto a bumpy road. It stopped moments later, and I realized I had seconds to decide a course of action. What would Gennie do? Fight.

  * * *

  The car rocked as two car doors slammed. But nothing else happened. It was quiet. Footsteps crunched on what must be gravel, but they went away from me. I tried to move, but the trunk was tiny. I couldn’t stretch my legs out, let alone get into a crouch to spring out when the trunk opened. I moved my hand around, searching for a trunk release. I think I’d read somewhere all cars were required to have them now. But I didn’t find anything. My luck, I’d get stuck in the back of an old compact car.

  I laid there trying to figure out why I’d been grabbed tonight. I ran through the evening in my head. Then I pictured Lesley chatting with the men while she took their orders and served them. They must have done this. Maybe that’s why they were such good tippers—she fed them information.

  The crunch of footsteps headed back toward me. The trunk sprung open. Before I could move, some kind of heavy rope net was thrown over me. A blanket followed. I fought, but only tangled myself in the net. I yelled and screamed. The fact no one tried to silence me scared me. We must be somewhere remote.

  Someone lifted me by the torso. Someone else grabbed my legs. I tried to buck, but it was as ineffectual as a June bug hitting a screen. Seconds later, I was lowered gently onto what felt like a floor. The arms released me and I heard something slam shut above me. I was screwed.

  * * *

  I clawed at the net and rolled around trying to shake free of the blanket. It smelled dank and cold seeped through the blanket. A muffled sound made me still. Had I heard a voice? I might not be alone. I managed to roll out of the blanket, but it was too dark to see anything. It wasn’t the kind of dark one’s eyes would adjust to. It was black and inky—no cracks of light came from anywhere. I freed myself from the net.

  “Who’s there?” a man’s voice asked.

  “Luke? You’re alive.” My voice cracked, but I told myself this was no time for emotions. I tried to stand but whacked my head on what was a very low ceiling. For a minute, I saw bright lights. But it wasn’t actual light, just one too many whacks on the head for one night.

  “Oh no. Sarah. I can’t believe I dragged you into this mess.”

  “What is this place?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m tied up and it’s hard to move around.”

  I scrabbled around on the hard-packed dirt floor. It was cold down here.

  “How did you end up here?” I asked. The dirt was hard on my hands and knees. I reached out a hand, patting the dirt before me as I inched along. “Talk so I can find you.”

  “Two men pounced on me the night I saw you at the VA.”

  A burn of anger warmed me up. “You’ve been down here since then?”

  “Yes.”

  “I kept hoping you managed to get away.”

  “Don’t you think I would have called you? Made sure you were okay?”

  Sadly, I wasn’t sure. Silky tendrils brushed across my face. I jerked back. “Yuck.”

  “Cobwebs? They’re all over the place.”

  “Yes.” I batted the air, hoping to pull the thing down.

  “You’ve always hated them.”

  “Not as much as I hate the men that did this to you.”

  “To us. I tried to stall them that night, hoping you’d get away.”

  “One of them was dressed like a security guard and fooled me.”

  “They’ve had you since then?” Luke’s voice was low and mean. I’d been on the receiving end of that anger during one of our phone calls years ago.

  “No. That’s the weird thing. I woke up in my apartment. They took me home.” My hand touched Luke’s foot.

  “There’s duct tape and rope around my ankles, so try my arms first. Then I can help with my legs.”

  I scooted along until I found his arms. Layers of duct tape bound his wrists. I picked at
it, hoping to find the end piece.

  It made me ill. “Who did this?” I asked. I might not be able to see anything, but at least I’d get some answers and maybe we’d find a way out.

  “No idea. Do you know?”

  I nodded and then realized he couldn’t see me. “I’m not sure. But there’ve been these four men in town. At first I thought they were outdoorsmen, but I think they were here for something else.”

  Luke groaned.

  “Did I hurt you?” I was still plucking at what felt like the edge of the duct tape with my fingernail. Good thing I had such strong nails.

  “No. I got you into this mess. I didn’t mean to.”

  “Stay still,” I said when he moved his arms. I restarted my search to find the end of the duct tape. “I figured out you track down people who pretend they’re in the military. Mom and Dad will be proud.”

  “They won’t be, not once they know the whole story.”

  “Tell me.”

  Chapter 36

  Luke was quiet for a long time. “I’m not the brother you’d hoped I’d be or one you’d even want.”

  “I love you. No matter what.”

  “I started out with this drug- and alcohol-induced rage. At what I’d seen, what I hadn’t done. Then I found out someone was using my buddy Nick’s identity. He died in Iraq.”

  “I’m sorry.” I tugged on the duct tape and got a little piece loose.

  “I wanted to be the hero. The one I never was over in Iraq. Nick was the guy who took one for the team instead of running.”

  I kept my head down and scratched and tugged and pulled on the tape. It was almost impossible in the dark. The cold made my hands feel like chunks of ice.

  “I outted a couple of jerks who were getting benefits. They were scum in my book.”

  “In everyone’s book.”

  “Then one day I tracked a man down. I was broke and needed a fix. He told me if I didn’t rat him out, he’d pay me. I figured if it worked with him it would work with others. Quite the way to make a living.”

  I sucked in a bit of air. My baby brother a blackmailer? I flashed back to the money on the floor of the Spencers’ garage. My eyes blurred with tears, but I kept my fingers working on the tape. “You were blackmailing the Spencers?”

  “No. I sobered up about five years into my con. It’s why I stayed away from all of you, so you wouldn’t know what a loser I am. The couple of times I called you? I wanted to tell you, but chickened out every time.”

  This was the most honest talk we’d had in years. How odd to be doing it in the dark, when we were in danger. But maybe the dark made sense since neither of us could see the judgment in the other’s face. “What are you doing now?” I asked.

  “I’ve been slowly paying people back. And only exposing them after giving them the opportunity to do it themselves. No one really gets any joy out of finding a faker. The good guys exposing frauds don’t go around and leap out to have gotcha moments that make them look good. They turn people over to feds to deal with them. There’s a difference between wearing a uniform and defrauding the government for veteran’s benefits.”

  “I figured out Mr. Spencer wasn’t in the service.” I shook my head. “He was just in a movie about Vietnam. Were you planning to expose them?” I peeled back a layer of tape.

  “I went to the Spencers to give them a chance to confess.” Luke fell quiet for a moment. “I’ve learned over the years more about how people get caught up in things. It starts with a little lie someone tells and it snowballs.”

  I didn’t want to ask the next question. “Did you hurt the Spencers? I told you that night at the VA that your fingerprints were there. Likely there’s other evidence I haven’t heard about. They found your Purple Heart medal in the garage too.”

  “The door into the back of the garage was open. Mr. Spencer looked dead and I thought Mrs. Spencer was. I heard a commotion in the woods and headed down to see if I could identify anyone.”

  “It was you I saw running in the woods.” I quit picking at the tape for a minute and held Luke’s cold hands in mine. We’d been close to coming face-to-face at the Spencers’ house.

  “I called 911 and then chased a runner. But it was a woman out for a morning run.”

  It explained why he sounded out of breath when I’d listened to the 911 calls. I started working on the tape again. “You should have gone to the police.”

  “I told you I was no hero.”

  “Why did you have your Purple Heart with you?”

  “I kept it as a reminder of how I’d failed my friend and as a reminder about what I needed to do.”

  I unwound more of the duct tape. “How did you end up in Ellington?”

  “About six months ago, I started investigating a group of men who were going around exposing fakers. They humiliated them as much as possible, posting videos, mocking them, ripping patches off their uniforms. But I wasn’t sure who they were because they were never in the videos.”

  “What made you want to go after them?”

  “They started getting it wrong. They went after a female officer who used a different name for her blog. She started getting death threats even though she served honorably.”

  “They got it wrong with Herb Fitch too.” I explained what had happened at Herb’s house and about his belt.

  “I eventually found out none of them ever served.”

  “I think Lesley, the bartender at the American Legion, fed them information. She heard and noticed a lot bartending. Maybe they suspected Herb or were looking for other fakers there.” I could see Lesley wanting to help in that case. “If they didn’t serve, why were they doing it?”

  “One of them lost a daughter in Afghanistan. They started off with good intentions. People touted them as heroes, but they went off the rails somewhere.”

  “Why did you have to keep it all a secret?”

  “Because more than one group claimed they were the ones behind the videos. Every time someone got close, the men disappeared. I couldn’t chance losing them and didn’t want to accuse those four if they weren’t the ones behind the videos.”

  “What do you think happened at the Spencers’? They confronted them and things went horribly wrong?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. As far as I know they’ve never been violent until now.”

  I ripped off the final strand of tape, the one stuck to his skin.

  “Ouch. Jeez, that hurt. I think you took every last bit of hair around my wrists.”

  “Suck it up. Help me with your legs,” I said.

  “I don’t have any feeling in my arms.”

  I briskly rubbed first one arm and then the other. “You stink,” I said.

  “Yeah, sorry, the shower facilities aren’t the best here.” He shook both arms.

  “Did they find out about you? Is it how you ended up here?” I crawled down to where Luke’s feet were and started tugging at the ropes.

  “They must have.”

  “Did they hurt you?”

  “No. They brought me meals, blankets, a pillow. I can’t figure out what their end game is.”

  “I hope it’s not to leave us down here to die.”

  “Me either.”

  For a while, we concentrated on loosening the ropes around his legs and our own thoughts. Our hands bumped each other and we didn’t seem to be making any progress. My fingers were so cold, I stuck them under my armpits to try warming them up. It wasn’t that the temperature outside was terribly cold, but given the dirt floor, we must be in some kind of underground room. “I’m cold, Luke. I’ve got to find the blanket they wrapped me in.”

  “Take mine,” Luke said.

  “No. You need it. Give me a minute.” I crawled around, bumping into walls, until I finally found it. I dragged it back over to Luke. I wrapped it around my shoulders and leaned against him. My eyes closed. I snapped them back open, not that it made a difference. My hands shook so badly I was making things worse for Luke.

  “Ta
ke a break and warm up.” Luke sounded as tired as I felt.

  “Okay. For a minute.”

  * * *

  Sometime later, I jerked awake. There was no way to tell how much time had passed. It was still as dark as when they’d tossed me down here. Luke snored gently.

  I shook him. “Luke, wake up. We’ve got to get out of here.” I started back in on the rope. “How did you find out about the Spencers?”

  “Their name came up during my investigation.”

  “From Ethan?”

  “Yes. I went to their house and spotted you. I couldn’t believe you were there. I ducked around the back.” Luke yanked violently at the rope.

  “Stop. That’s not helping. It’s only making it tighter.”

  “Do you have any idea where we are or what this place is?” I asked Luke.

  “It doesn’t seem like a barn—the space isn’t big enough. And it doesn’t seem deep enough to be a cellar. I can’t stand straight up.”

  “When someone brings you food, how many men come?”

  “Usually only one.”

  “Then we can take him,” I said, and tried to believe it like Gennie had taught me. “We’ll have to pretend you’re still tied up. And that I’m asleep.”

  “I am still tied up.”

  “Hopefully, by the time they return, you won’t be.”

  “What if they don’t return?”

  I hadn’t thought of that. It wasn’t an option.

  * * *

  Luke and I were both exhausted by the time we finally undid all of the rope and duct tape. I was pretty sure my fingers were bleeding.

  “How are they coming in and out?” I asked.

  “There’s a trapdoor in the ceiling in the center of the room. They set something heavy on it though. Trust me I tried to get out of here.”

  “How? You’re all tied up.”

  “I managed to get to my feet a couple of times and scoot around. Or I’d roll around trying to find another way out.”

  “They must have lowered me through the trapdoor. The weird thing is besides whacking me on the head, they were gentle with me. And if it was them at the VA grounds after they choked me, they took me home and put me to bed. I don’t get it.”