“So, why now?”
“I’m indebted forever to one man, a man who risked a lot to help me escape my miserable childhood home and alcoholic father. Curt Umfleet. He never killed Alice Cummings. His story is true. Here’s the scar on my forearm that he sewed up. I am Alice Cummings, and I can prove it all.” She started to cry. “All these years, I never knew. All these years, he’s been in jail falsely because I cut out and ran and never looked back. I need to make amends for that.”
She paused for a deep sigh. Oni stepped forward and put her arm around Myra.
“Tell me, what happened to his kids? Do you know?” asked Myra.
Alexia replied, “They live in their childhood home. He does odd jobs and she teaches Special Ed, I think. They barely get by. We did a fund raiser for them once, to fix the roof on that old house.”
Myra furrowed her brow.
“Why? The Umfleet Family Trust owned thousands of acres along Thorpe Reservoir. They could have sold that land to support themselves, to defend their father.”
“What trust? And what land?” Alexia’s eyes widened. “Omigosh, if the land you’re talking about is what I think it is, it’s been developed into multi-million dollar homes, a golf course, and more. It’s one of the most fashionable gated vacation communities in the state.” She became agitated and her mouth dropped open. “Th-that’s why I’m a target. I was working on a story before I got my graduate position, on Curt’s children and the family in general. I must have come close to discovering the truth.”
Myra opened the roll-top and pulled out a thick manila envelope, overflowing with papers. “We need to get to North Carolina. ASAP”
Myra stuffed the envelope into her purse, carefully placed the ‘Sweetie and George’ materials into a nearby satchel, left the room, and walked toward the door. “Kenny! Gene! We need –”
She stopped in her tracks. The reflection on the door’s glass window showed the two men lying on the ground next to each other, Taser probes and wires dangling from each of their backs.
Thirty-eight
**********
He sat behind a makeshift blind, adjusting his sight for the distance to the building’s door. He’d been concerned about whatever protective wall would develop around the women, but now laughed at the two bumpkins lying on the ground. They had looked the part, probably did have military or police training, and had played the role well, covering the doors and securing the building. Yet, in reality, they did not truly believe there was a threat. Their vigilance waned when out of sight of their wards. He had simply walked down the sidewalk like any tourist, smiled and nodded at the two when they turned their attention toward him, and nailed them both in successive Taser shots when they turned back toward the house. For their bulk, they had fallen easily. Once down, he gave each a three-second buzz from his stun baton. That combination wouldn’t kill them, unless they had some underlying heart condition, but it did guarantee him a minimum of ten minutes to get into position. More likely, they’d be down a full twenty minutes.
Now he held the high ground above the spring across the street. The building had two entries. The main front door, opening onto the street, appeared as if it hadn’t been used in years. The women had used the side door. He had both covered. He would wait for the women to emerge and in their confusion over finding the bodies, he would quickly dispatch both women. Like the two guards, the third woman would live. He wasn’t paid for collateral damage.
Myra’s shaky hand stopped Alexia before she stepped through the door. Had she not seen the reflection, they would have simply walked outside to become instant targets.
“Get away from the door and avoid any windows,” she said, pointing toward the reflection so the other women could see what she’d seen. She pulled out her cell phone, but the hills blocked the signals. The ‘No Service’ alert flashed.
Oni gasped, but rallied and took Alexia’s hand. “This way.”
Myra knew what was coming. She’d used this route on more than one occasion. In contrast to the common story, she’d stayed in Eureka Springs for over a week after discovering Nico’s dalliances. Oni had hidden her in the very room that took on Elise Kenwood’s name. “Alexia, you’re about to see part of Eureka Springs the tourists never see. Remember what I told you about the city streets? Some of these streets have tunnels under them.”
Oni grabbed a couple of jackets hanging on pegs in the hall. “Here. He probably knows what you’re wearing, and it’s pretty dirty in there.”
“Where are we going? What do we need to do?” asked Alexia.
Myra paused. “She’s right. We do need a plan.”
“My car’s at the bottom of the hill, where I usually park. Go that way past two houses and there’s a door to the outside. You should be able to get to my car from behind the houses. There’s a spare key under the passenger floor mat.”
“What will you do?”
“I can get back to the office by going this way and call the police.” She pointed the opposite way in the tunnel.
“But we need to leave town and our stuff is at Pond Mountain,” protested Alexia.
Neither woman had an immediate reply.
“Tell you what, after the police arrive. I’ll drive your car back to the resort and get your things. Where should we meet up?”
Myra sought to control her shaking, but there was more to it than anxiety. “Silver Wings, and I hope he’ll take on a charter flight.” Myra took Oni’s hand. “Please tell Angela that Betsy has missed her, too. You can tell her everything now.” She handed her the key to the Mustang. “Oh, and when Dweedle-Dee and Dweedle-Dum wake up, tell them they’re fired.”
Thirty-nine
**********
Myra plopped into the hardback chair offered her. Her energy was waning. “Please, Captain. I saw it fly in two nights ago. I know it’s airworthy.”
“Myra, I know we go way back, but I can’t accept the assignment.”
“Why not? It’s sitting right out there, and I know you’d love any excuse to fly it again.”
Myra and Alexia sat in the office of the Aviation Cadet Museum. Their escape from Eureka Springs had not been without mishap, but Myra shook off the pain in her wrist after falling during their dash to Oni’s car. She rationalized the weakness that led to the fall as being the result of exhaustion. She had heard from Oni that the perp had evaded the police, but they had discovered a temporary blind from where he undoubtedly planned to shoot.
“It’s not the plane. I have no crew, and taking off from this grass field is quite different from landing. Thanks to the buggers who sued to stop this airfield from development, I have court ordered restrictions on the flight pattern.”
Myra didn’t have time to travel to Little Rock, or even Springdale, just west of Beaver Lake, for a charter. A plane might not be available and police protection could not be guaranteed for the length of either trip. More importantly, she felt her health swirling like the whirlpool encircling a drain. Her time was running out.
“Oh, c’mon. Years ago, when you helped me with my book research, you bragged about being able to land your C-130 on an aircraft carrier. Don’t tell me a little tail wind and a short runway is going to ground you. Or are you just getting too old for a little adventure?”
Captain Earl sighed. “You’re baiting me now. Look, I-I still don’t have a crew.”
“Who flew in with you?”
“An old friend. He’s gone home already.”
“So, who do you need?”
“At a minimum, the 130J requires two pilots and for what you want, a loadmaster.”
Myra rubbed her wrist as she thought. “Give me a minute.” Her cell phone had full service on top of the hill where they sat. She dialed. “Oni, are the dweedles still there? We need a co-pilot and loadmaster for a C-130. Can they fill the bill?” She smiled at the answer, but even that smile did not come without effort. “Tell them they’re forgiven and rehired. Bring them with you.”
She turned back
to the retired TWA and military pilot. “Got your crew. What else?”
“Well, I’ll need to remove the old jeep that’s strapped in for display. We’ll put the Mustang there. We’ll need to fuel up in Springfield, or maybe Memphis. I’ll have to file my flight plan. You said Asheville, right?”
Myra nodded. Earl shrugged. “That should be it. I’ll go start my pre-flight.” He shook his head as he stood. “Never thought I’d be putting this baby to work again.” Then he grinned.
“Oh, and here’s your fee.” She handed him a check. “Should cover expenses, that 2-acre field you want to buy next door, and a bit more.”
His eyes widened as he saw the check in her hand for a quarter million dollars.
“This does give me a lifetime membership to the museum, too. Right?”
“Myra, that gives you an eternal membership. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t know what else to say.” He stepped toward her and she started to back away from the expected hug, but gave in and let him physically express his thanks before he rushed from the building.
Alexia eyed Myra curiously. “What?” asked the author.
“Nothing.”
“Oh no. Don’t ‘nothing’ me. I’ve come to know that look. My generosity surprises you, doesn’t it?”
Alexia replied with a wan smile. “Actually, you’re right. My first impression of a selfish diva has been shattered these past two weeks.”
“Then you’d be even more surprised to know that Elise Kenwood gave away pretty much everything Betsy Weston ever earned. When you get the chance to Google ‘Elise Kenwood,’ you’ll find non-profits and schools all across this country with endowments in her name. I never needed it all, and I seemed blessed, to use your Christian term, with the ability to make money.”
Alexia said nothing.
“What, no response?”
Alexia smiled. “Ever hear of the parable of the talents?”
“I may be a heathen, but I’m not Biblically illiterate. All good authors should know the stories of the Bible, Shakespeare, Dickens, and the like.”
“Well, whether or not you believe, there are universal laws, or maybe ‘principles’ is a better word, that God set in motion that are valid for everyone. ‘You reap what you sow’ is an example. When the wealthy landowner gave each servant a set amount of money, the two who invested it wisely saw their returns multiply. The one who buried it was afraid to take a risk and wanted to make sure he could give the money back when called into account for it. He had his money taken away. You are reaping because you sow. I think Jesus’ words to the religious teacher are good ones for you, too: ‘You are not far from the Kingdom of God.’”
Myra remained silent.
“What, no response?” Alexia smiled.
Myra had no reply. Something inside her sensed a kernel of truth in what Alexia said. In addition, Alexia’s “prophetic” words about God filling her deepest desire came back to mind. Did she actually have a glimmer of hope that Alexia would be right? Did she dare to resurrect a hope she’d given up for dead decades before?
“I’m not ready to die yet, thank you.”
Alexia chuckled. “Knowing the stories of the Bible is one thing. Understanding the Bible is another. God’s kingdom is not limited to the afterlife.”
Again, Myra had no comeback.
“Ma’am?”
Myra grunted, as she turned to find Kenny standing near the office entrance.
“Ma’am, we’re ready for you. Captain Earl said we should escort you to the plane. The Mustang is already secure and he’s ready.”
“Pleeease, don’t call me Ma’am. Myra would be fine.”
“Yes, sir, um, Ma’am. Let’s roll. We, uh, won’t get caught with our pants, um, we won’t let you down this time, Ma’am. Promise.”
Alexia frowned as Myra struggled to get up and leave the room. She assisted Myra, and for once, Myra gladly accepted the aid. At the main door, Kenny lifted one arm to block her way, and then preceded them from the building. Gene filed in close behind as they walked to Oni’s car. The distance to the airstrip hardly seemed to warrant driving, but Myra knew she’d never make it on her own power. Plus, she had no desire to become a target in that wide-open space, so she put up no argument.
The car pulled right up to the cargo ramp of the huge transport plane and the men hurried the ladies into the cargo hold before Gene returned to the car and moved it to a parking area.
“Betsy?”
Myra, who was watching Gene jog back to the plane, turned to find Angela with tears in her eyes. “Hi, Angie.” She held out her arms as the woman approached. “I’m so sorry, for so many things, and I ask you to forgive me.” Angela embraced Myra.
Gene trotted up the ramp, and Kenny said, “Ready to go wheels up.” He started toward the front of the plane.
Oni put her hand on Angela’s shoulder. “C’mon honey, we need to get back.”
Myra straightened up. “Oh no, you’re both going. Gene, raise that gate and show us where to strap in.”
Oni protested. “We can’t go. We’re not prepared –”
Myra stopped her. “You’re going. We can buy you whatever you need when we get there. I am not leaving you behind to become targets like Diana in Taos. No way. Sit down and prepare to take off.” Oni started to comment, but Myra raised her hand to cut her off. “NO! You’re going. Gene!” With every ounce of strength she still had, she pointed to the lift button.
“Gene!” Alexia pointed toward a car careening off the county road toward them, as in some formulaic action flick.. The guard pulled his Beretta, rushed to the top of the ramp, and took a kneeling firing position. At that moment, flashing lights on the front grill and a burst of siren announced the car as an unmarked police sedan.
The auto swerved to a stop near the back of the plane, and two plain clothed men jumped out, identifying themselves as being from the Eureka Springs Police Department. Oni knew both and confirmed that to Myra. The older of the two waved for Myra to come down off the ramp.
“Alexia, Oni. Please go see what he wants. I just don’t have the energy.” Myra found her way to a nearby jump seat and collapsed into it. She had long ago realized there would be an emotional catharsis with the revelation of her secret, but that, combined with the physical stress of recent days and her illness, had dealt her a hand she wanted to fold on the flop.
Alexia came back to Myra while Oni continued talking with the officers.
“They’re glad they caught up to us. Someone ransacked the old house with the Kenwood suite. The suite itself was torn up pretty good, but naturally, they, the police, have no idea what might have been taken and they’d like someone to inventory the place and give them a rundown on what’s missing, damaged, and so forth. They did get a partial plate and car model. Preliminary investigation shows it to be a rental out of Springfield. The driver’s license on file with the rental agency is bogus, but it’s a fake North Carolina license. Seems that someone in our home state doesn’t want either of us coming back there. Anyway, the police are trying to get security footage picturing the renter and they’ve alerted the police in Springfield and Little Rock.”
Myra had little to say and found her thoughts a bit confused, which meant she must be sicker than she’d thought. Yet, now was not the time to say anything to anyone about her condition.
“Thera what not impo …” Why was Alexia looking at her so funny? Then she realized her words were not coming out properly. Was she now having a stroke, too? Wasn’t liver failure bad enough on its own? Her heart began to jump at that worry. She started over, focusing on what she needed to say, speaking slowly, and enunciating each word. “There was nothing important or valuable left behind. My important papers are in that envelope in my bag. The Sweetie cartoons are in that satchel. The rest is old furniture and clothing. There was nothing to take.”
“And nothing to point him in our direction?”
Myra shook her head as Oni walked up to them, and said, “They want me
to stick around to go through the house. I told ‘em I couldn’t, but that I’d be back within the week. Not happy. Maria can inventory all of the rooms except the Elise Kenwood Suite.”
“There’s nothing in there worth anything. I was just telling Alexia that,” said Myra.
“That’s what I told them. Not happy, as I said.”
Gene stood next to the gate mechanism, looking confused.
“Gene, roll it up! Let’s go.” Myra waved to the officers as the ramp rose into flight position. Her last glimpse of them was of their getting into the car. They couldn’t hold them there, she thought, although the thought of an obstruction charge flitted through her mind. She dismissed that idea. With Oni’s prominence in the community, they were unlikely to put up a fuss. They would all return soon enough to deal with the events of the past twelve hours.
Her head swooned as she buckled in for the takeoff. She caught Alexia grabbing hold of Oni’s arm and leading her to the side. What was she whispering in Oni’s ear?
Forty
**********
Myra awoke in confusion, nauseated, but this time the strange sounds and smell of disinfectants brought back familiar and unpleasant memories. Where was she? What had happened? She last remembered the shuddering takeoff of the C-130 transport plane on the grass runway.
She stirred in bed and immediately felt a hand on hers. She opened her eyes to a dimly lit room, but the nearby window told her it was nighttime. But, which night? As the furnishings and monitoring equipment came into focus, she recognized Oni and Alexia sitting next to her bed. The hand covering the top of hers belonged to Alexia.
“Welcome back,” said Oni. “You had us worried.” The smile on her face appeared forced.
“What …” Myra’s parched mouth had trouble releasing the words, but her mind seemed clearer. She recalled the confusion she felt as they boarded the plane.
“You fell asleep on the plane. At least we thought you had. When you didn’t wake up in Memphis when we landed for refueling, we just thought it was exhaustion. When you didn’t wake up in Asheville, we rushed you to the hospital. The ER doctor diagnosed you with hepatic encephalopathy. That’s when –”
Killer Reads: A Collection of the Best in Inspirational Suspense Page 81