What You See

by Ann Mullen

  “He’s your dog, so I guess he’s part of our family, too,” she said. “Athena needs a playmate.”

  I couldn’t believe this was my mother talking. She actually told Cole to bring his dog! Mom was just starting a new life and adapting a whole new outlook.

  Billy and I loaded my Jeep with his surveillance equipment, which he carried everywhere. He said it was like his American Express. He never leaves home without it, along with his cell phone and his gun.

  “Always be prepared is my motto,” he explained.

  Adhering to his words of wisdom, I collected my purse, briefcase, cell phone, and gun, which I named Rossi after the maker. I’ve been told when you name your gun, it becomes your friend. That’s a scary thought.

  It was almost an hour’s drive to Gordonsville. Billy said it should’ve taken only forty-five minutes. That was just one of the things he complained about. I drove too close to the middle line. I rode my brakes too much…blah... blah... blah. I think he was just nervous. He was afraid of how I’d act in front of the people we were going to interrogate. I could see why he’d be reluctant about what was about to go down. This was my first time in a confrontational situation. Would I mess up? What did I know about investigating?

  Rose Hudgins and her family lived in a large, white Cape Cod house. I guessed it to be about 3,000 square feet.

  One of the things I’d learned from my brother Jack was how to assess the size of a house. He also taught me how to read blueprints, and to calculate the building materials for a job. He loved to build things, and there was nothing he couldn’t build. Unfortunately, Dad had wanted him to get into a career that wasn’t seasonal, so the time in between being a teenager and a lawyer, he did carpentry work. Needless to say, with his help, I learned a few things about home construction. Not a lot, but enough to know the difference between a slab and a crawl space.

  The Hudgins’ house sat on two acres of well-manicured lawn. Surrounding the house and in some stage of blooming, were azalea, lilac, and rose bushes. Off in the background, close to where the woods began, sat a barn on the left and stables to the right. A fenced in area large enough to exercise a whole herd of horses, surrounded the stables. I counted six horses grazing, or doing whatever they do in a corral.

  Parked in front of the barn was a backhoe, a John Deere tractor with one of those things you cut big areas of grass, and a riding lawn mower the size of my car. You could probably buy ten of my Jeeps for the price of their equipment.

  From the looks of things, Mom and Dad had some serious money, so why was Rose working in a dinky little diner, barely making enough money to put gas in her car? Was she trying to make a statement? What else could it be?

  As I parked the Jeep and got out, Billy broke my train of thought.

  “Listen to me, Jesse. When we get inside just play along with what I say. Let me run the show. We’ll consider this a learning experience.”

  “Sure, whatever you want. This is all new to me,” I replied.

  In the back of my mind, I was already coming up with questions I wanted to ask.

  Billy rang the doorbell while I stood beside him, admiring the wicker furniture that had been neatly arranged on the porch.

  Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of something. Across the blacktop road, through a small gap in the forest of trees, I saw a mound of dirt. It was covered with lush green grass. It was set so far back in the woods, if you weren’t standing in just the right spot, you’d miss it. Maybe someone had cleared the trees, planning to build something, and never got around to it.

  An older, heavyset woman, wearing an apron and holding a wooden spoon, answered the door. “Hello, may I help you?” she asked, opening the door just enough to stick her head out.

  “Yes,” Billy replied as he removed his wallet from his jeans pocket and flipped it open. “I’m Detective Blackhawk, and this is Detective Watson. We’re here to speak with Rose Hudgins. Is she home?”

  The woman barely glanced at his I.D. before opening the door. “Please wait in the sitting room,” she said, pointing to our left. “I’ll go see if Miss Hudgins is awake. She usually sleeps late on Saturday.”

  I looked at Billy after she left the room and said, “That was a lot easier than I expected.”

  “It’s not over yet,” he whispered. “I think she might be the housekeeper, and once our presence is made known, we might be out of here just as fast as we were let in.”

  We were standing at the entrance of a room most likely designed to entertain guests. The room looked like if was fresh out of a Traditional Home Magazine. All the tables were made out of a deep rich cherry, and none of them had a speck of dust anywhere. In front of a huge fireplace, two Queen Anne chairs were situated opposite each other, divided by a sofa of the same style. Along the walls of the room were various pieces of furniture. I noticed a magnificent buffet table.

  Pointing to the buffet table, I whispered, “I bet that piece set them back a few thousand dollars.”

  “There’s no doubt in my mind these people have a few bucks,” he whispered. “I figured that out the minute I saw the place.”

  Trying to trigger his curiosity, I added, “Why do you think Rose Hudgins would be working a greasy, nasty job for almost nothing, when she has folks with plenty of money?”

  He surprised me when he said, “Maybe she just wants to make her own money.” He walked around the room, examining the many fine pieces as he went. He was holding a small vase in his hands, when a man walked in the room.

  “That vase is almost priceless,” the man growled rudely. “Most of the pieces in this room are, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t touch anything. I’m Lawrence Hudgins. I’m afraid that you can’t talk to my daughter. She’s in bed, sick with the flu. May I help you?” From the tone of his voice, help was the last thing he was going to do.

  He wore dark dress pants, a white shirt, and a tie loosened at the collar. He was almost as tall as Billy, but didn’t weigh nearly as much. It was obvious to me that he was a businessman. Why else would he have on a tie, at home, on a Saturday morning?

  Billy gingerly replaced the vase, walked up to Mr. Hudgins and said, “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but admire some of the beautiful things you have.” He held out his hand. “I’m Detective Blackhawk, and this is Detective Watson.”

  “I know who you are. My housekeeper told me,” he said, ignoring Billy’s offer of a handshake. “I think it’d be best if you leave. As I said before, my daughter’s ill and can’t see you.” He was brushing us off in a big way, and I wasn’t going to let that happen.

  “What about your son, Patrick Jason? May we speak with him?” I was determined to get something out of this trip.

  “He’s not here.”

  “When do you expect him back?” I demanded.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he insisted. “You’ve harassed my family enough. Get out of here, and don’t come back without a warrant.” Apparently, he was about ready to throw us out.

  “Look,” I said as congenially as I could. “We aren’t trying to cause trouble. We’re new to the case and we’re at a dead end. Some of the paperwork handed down to us has a few holes in it. Perhaps some of it was lost. We’re just trying to put the pieces together.”

  He wasn’t buying any of what I was selling. “I don’t give a hoot about your lost paperwork. As many times as the cops came by here, they ought to know everything there is to know. Just because you’re new to the case, doesn’t mean we have to go through all this again. Forget it.”

  Mr. Hudgins ushered us to the front door, slamming it the minute we stepped outside. A lock clicked behind us.

  “Whew, he sure was hot,” I replied.

  Billy and I were almost to the car when a young man came around the corner of the house. We both stopped and stared at him.

  “I bet he’s the son,” I whispered.

  “You folks looking for my sister, huh?” he asked, walking up to us. He was holding a dead rabbit.
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br />   He had the strangest eyes I’d ever seen. They were black! Or, was that just his pupils? I looked closer, and determined that his eyes weren’t black. His pupils were so enlarged you could barely see the blue. What drug was this kid on?

  Shoving the dead rabbit close to my face, he laughed and said, “I killed him with my bare hands! Pretty cool, huh?”

  Sick is more like it, I thought.

  His demeanor changed. “My dad’s going to get real mad if you keep bothering us. You don’t want to make him mad. Trust me.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Does he have a violent temper? Is he a dangerous man?”

  I must’ve hit a nerve.

  “Get out of here, and don’t come back,” he hissed.

  “Did you see Helen Carrolton the day she disappeared?” I yelled at him as he was walking away.

  He stopped for a minute, laughed, and then kept walking.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said to Billy.

  I backed out of the driveway and almost ran into the ditch across the road. I muttered a few choice words under my breath. I’ve had enough of these crazies, and was more than glad to get away from them. They might have money, but they were just too weird for me.

  “We’ve caught the crow,” Billy said.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “They’re hiding something they thought they’d gotten away with, but now they know they’re up against a wall.”

  Ah! Now he was seeing things my way. I knew there was something going on all along. I could feel it. My mind started to drift as I stopped at the end of the road, ready to make the turn onto Rt. 15.

  “Did the police question the boy?” I asked Billy. “I didn’t see anything in the report that would indicate they had.”

  “There wasn’t anything in the report about him, except that he’s Rose’s brother. She told them he was at home with their parents at the time.”

  “I can’t believe they didn’t question him.”

  “If they did, they didn’t put anything in the file.”

  As I was waiting for a chance to pull out into traffic, an idea came to me. Now would be the perfect time to use some of Billy’s equipment. I was sure we’d stirred up a fuss at the Hudgins household with our visit. They were probably discussing us right now.

  “Billy, I have an idea,” I said, turning to face him. “Why don’t we park the car on one of those dirt paths, and sneak back up to the house. We can take that gismo you have, and listen to what they’re saying. I bet we got them all riled up. There’s no telling what’s happening in that house. We don’t have to worry about anyone seeing us, because their house is the only one on this road.”

  On one of our earlier fact-finding missions, we’d discovered that Rose and her family were the only people who lived on this dead end road. According to the information Billy got from the tax assessor’s office, Lawrence and Rita Hudgins not only owned that grand house, but the fifty-two acres of land surrounding it. We had plenty of room to snoop without being seen.

  “Did you hear what I said?” I snapped, thinking that Billy wasn’t paying attention to me.

  “Yes, I heard you,” he replied. “Sorry, I was thinking about that kid.”

  “He’s a strange fellow. He sure seems awful immature for someone who’s eighteen. Don’t you think?”

  “Not only that, but did you see the look in his eyes when he said he killed that rabbit with his bare hands? He was proud of what he did.”

  “It’s the shock value, Billy. He was trying to get a rise out of us. Did you know that most serial killers start out torturing small animals? They torture them until they die. Eventually, they move onto something else... like people.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go back.”

  I turned around and headed back until I came to a little dirt path just big enough to drive the Jeep down. I pulled over and parked between two trees. We were far enough from the house not to be noticed, yet close enough so we wouldn’t have to trudge through a lot of woods. I thought about what Billy had said about the snakes as soon as we started making our way through the tangled mess of downed trees and underbrush. Summer was here, and I didn’t like the idea of exploring what could be snake-infested territory.

  Fortunately, the edge of the woods had plenty of large trees that were just right for hiding. Crouching down, Billy went about connecting his audio equipment. He had a satellite dish the size of a saucer, with a cable that plugged into a jack on the side of a small black box. He opened the box, pushed a button to turn it on, and then pulled out a set of headphones. He plugged them into the side of the box.

  “Whatever we pick up will be recorded on the mini-cassette recorder inside,” he explained. “If I plug in the headphones you won’t be able to hear. I won’t do that, unless someone comes out of the house. We don’t want to take a chance they might hear us. It’s awfully quiet out here, and sound carries through these woods.” He aimed the dish toward the house, scanning for sound waves. Upstairs, several of the windows were open, and I could hear voices. I could barely make out what they were saying, until their conversation blared through the receiver. Billy adjusted the sound level. The reception was so clear, I could’ve sworn we were in the room with them.

  “I told you, I don’t know what they want! I didn’t have anything to do with that girl’s disappearance. I don’t even know her. All I did was talk to her when she came into Bubba’s.”

  “Why do the cops keep coming back, if you don’t know anything? They must suspect you of something or they wouldn’t keep bothering us.”

  “I don’t know, Daddy.”

  The girl began to cry. After what seemed like an eternity, the man spoke.

  “All right, sugar. Here’s what we’re going to do. I don’t want you to talk to anybody who comes to the house unless I’m with you. Don’t even let them in the house. I’ll talk to Betty and make sure she understands the situation. I’ll also talk to your mom and Jay. I don’t want anyone talking to the cops without me around. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  We heard a door slam and the room fell silent. The door opened again and then we heard the voice of the teenage boy.

  “You didn’t tell him anything about me, did you?”

  Billy and I looked at each other.

  “No, I didn’t,” the female voice replied. “Jay, I have to know where you were that afternoon you were supposed to be home with Mama. I can’t keep covering for you if I don’t know the truth. You have to tell me!”

  “What I do is not your concern. Just keep your mouth shut or you’re going to be real sorry. You hear me?”

  A door slammed. Muffled sobs echoed in the room.

  “I told you, Billy. She’s hiding something. She’s covering for her brother. He probably killed Helen and buried her body on his parents’ property. That kid’s crazy!”

  “`Ge ya, you sure have a wild imagination.”

  “There you go, again. What does that word mean?”

  “Woman,” he said with a smiled.

  “This `ge ya might have a wild imagination, but at least we found out there’s more to this than we originally thought. I’ll bet money the boy had something to do with Helen’s disappearance. I’ll even go as far as to say he either killed her, or knows what happened to her.”

  “Jesse, he’s just a kid.”

  “Don’t you read the papers? Kids kill. It happens all the time. Just because they’re young, doesn’t mean they don’t get involved in crime. I’m telling you...”

  Before I could finish, voices echoed through the dish.

  “Unless they show you a warrant, Betty, I don’t want you to let any cops in this house again when I’m not here. Then you get in touch with me immediately.”

  “Sure, Mr. Hudgins,” the woman said.

  “I have to go to the office for a while. Keep an eye on the kids and the minute Rita drags her butt out of bed, tell her to call me. I need to talk to her. You got it?
”

  Everything went silent, except for the banging of pots and pans. Shortly, Lawrence Hudgins came out of the house, got into the little red sports car parked in the driveway, and sped off.

  “What a creep!” I hissed.

  Chapter 18

  Billy and I sat on the ground for two hours listening to what appeared to be a typical Saturday at the Hudgins’ household. Rita, the mother, had finally gotten out of bed and made it to the kitchen for her morning dose of caffeine. Betty, the housekeeper, promptly informed her about the morning happenings. Instantly, she went into a tirade. She cried, shouted obscenities and eventually got on the phone to her husband.

  “No, I don’t know where the kids are. I assume they’re upstairs... Don’t shout at me. I just got out of bed and I have a headache... Okay... Okay... I’ll take care of it. Betty, get the kids down here now!”

  Within ten minutes, the kitchen became chaotic. Rita and Rose were shouting at each other and in the background we could still hear pots and pans being banged around. We didn’t hear Jay anywhere in the house. The last time we’d seen him was earlier when we had encountered him in the front yard.

  I was just about to ask Billy where the boy was, when I heard a noise behind us. We looked at each other and turned around at the same time. Jay was standing behind us with a double-barrel shotgun hanging from the crook of his arm.

  Billy was the first to react. “Son, you don’t want to do this. You need to step back, put the gun down, and let’s talk about the situation.”

  “You’re trespassing on private property,” he raved. “I could shoot you right now and nobody would say a word about it.” He raised the gun.

  In two quick steps, Billy lurched forward and grabbed the shotgun, but not before Jay had a chance to get off a shot. I heard a blast and then fell to the ground. I felt a burning sensation in my shoulder and realized I had been shot. The pain was ungodly.

  “You’re a maniac! You shot me!” I screamed. “Billy! Help me!”