Secrets In The Shadows

by T. L. Haddix

“Which woman is that, Mary Margaret? The one whose shop he allegedly destroyed or the one they say he killed?” Patricia asked, finally at the end of her rope. Standing, she pushed her chair back under the table and sighed. “Look, you’ve had a rough few days. We all have. Why don’t you try to get some rest?”

  “I guess you agree with them then, letting Troy just sit in jail.” She stood and faced her sister, her arm raised and she pointed to the door. “You can just go right out that door and straight to hell for all I care. If you feel that way about it, I don’t want to see you again.” As Patricia stood there, stunned, Mary Margaret grabbed her arm and roughly pushed her toward the front of the house.

  “Let go of me!” She tried to pull away. “Mary Margaret, you’re hurting my arm. Let go!” She finally was able to break free, and walked quickly to the front door, stopping on the porch and turning around. “Call me when you come to your senses. I sure hope it’s soon!”

  ~ * * * ~

  Mary Margaret walked over and slammed the door behind her. Left alone, she stood in the hall shaking. She was so angry and frustrated, and no one seemed to want to help her. Iris had left, running back to her family in Georgia. All her children had turned their backs on her, except Troy. She didn’t know how, but they had managed to blame Margie’s murder on him. Even if he did do it, the lying whore deserved what she’d gotten. Mary Margaret was just angry that the other whore, Lauren, hadn’t gotten the same treatment.

  As she walked through the house, she thought about everything those two little liars had done, all the agony she and Carl had gone through since they’d had to leave Indiana thirteen years ago. He would still be alive if they hadn’t lied about him. Ignoring the small voice that whispered about his confession, Mary Margaret came to a halt as she entered Carl’s bedroom. Someone had stripped the hospital bed down and straightened up the room, and it was as quiet as a tomb.

  For several minutes, she stood there staring at that empty bed and then she turned, going down the hall to her own bedroom. Walking over to the closet, she reached up and pulled the chain, turning on the bare light bulb. She moved a chair close so that she could reach the shelf above the clothes, and climbed up, stretching to the back of the shelf for a small box. Pulling it out, she started to get down and stumbled, barely catching her balance on the clothes rod. Heart pounding, she closed her eyes and said a quick prayer of thanks, then stepped on down. She turned off the light and moved the chair back to the vanity.

  She moved over to her bed and sat down, placing the shoe box next to her. Very carefully, she lifted the lid, placing it to the side, and put her hand back into the box. Pulling out a cloth-wrapped bundle, she unwrapped it to reveal a thirty-eight caliber snub-nosed revolver. Competently checking to make sure the gun was loaded, she emptied the bullets onto the box lid. She spun the cylinder and pulled the hammer back, glancing down the barrel. There was a little dust on the weapon, and she used the cloth wrappings to clean it. Satisfied, she reloaded it and placed the gun on her night stand. She put the lid back on the box and slid it under the bed.

  Kicking off her shoes, she laid back on the bed, tired. She knew what she had to do now, and how to go about doing it. She would rest now, and later, after she awoke, she would take care of all the loose ends. It would be a messy business, but it had to be done.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Dusk had long since fallen on southern Indiana when Lauren finally decided to call it quits on Friday night. It was nearly nine-thirty, and as she stood up from her seat at the desk in the office above the shop, she realized how late it was. Grabbing her purse from the window seat, she headed downstairs, making sure she locked the staircase door.

  The construction crew had left around seven o’clock, and had locked the main doors behind them. Walking through the shop to see what all they’d done that day, she couldn’t help being impressed. The five-person team had worked quickly and efficiently, getting all the tar off the floors of the kitchen and the dining room, as well as the larger puddles that had congealed on other surfaces. The tables and chairs that could be saved had been set aside, and the ones that could not be salvaged had been taken outside and put in the dumpster the contractor had rented. Glass from the displays had been shoveled up, and all the broken fixtures in the restrooms had been removed.

  The contractor was eager to finish the job quickly, and he’d stopped by earlier that evening to check on the progress. He’d asked her then if it was okay for them to work tomorrow. “Given this tough economy, the sooner we finish, the sooner we get paid and get you back in business.”

  Lauren had told him that was fine. “I won’t be here, but my assistant manager will be.”

  Setting the alarm, she locked the back door and headed to her vehicle, parked across the street. There were a few people still milling around, especially in the park, where there was a small concert playing. She was glad to see that she wasn’t alone in the deserted downtown. She had felt the sensation of being watched at various intervals throughout the late afternoon. After looking around several times and not seeing anything out of the ordinary, she had finally attributed the feeling to the incredible amount of stress she had been under lately.

  As she pulled into her driveway, she noticed that her porch light was out. “That’s odd.” The light was on a sensor that turned it on automatically when it got dark, and she was sure she had flipped the switch that morning. When she got out of the car, she heard something rustle in the short hedge behind her. She quickly turned and looked, but didn’t see anything. Slightly unsettled, she watched for a minute before deciding it must have been the neighbor’s dog.

  “Lauren, you’re losing your mind.” Unlocking the door, she pushed it open and reached for the switch. Before she could flip it, a sharp pain pierced her lower back, and she fell as every muscle in her body spasmed, jolting tingles of electricity rushing from head to toe. All she could do was watch as the floor rushed up to meet her.

  When the jolting finally stopped, she wasn’t able to use her muscles. Lauren felt her attacker step over her body and she struggled to cry out, but she could only grunt. She felt a hand on her shoulder as the person rolled her over, and she finally got a look at her attacker.

  “Unless you want another shot of that Taser, you’ll keep your mouth shut,” Mary Margaret told her. She crouched down at Lauren’s head and, reaching into a bag she had set down on the floor, pulled out a roll of duct tape. Within seconds, Lauren’s hands were taped together in front of her at the wrists.

  “Why are you doing this?” Lauren asked, finally able to speak. “What do you want from me?”

  Mary Margaret slapped her across the mouth. “I told you to keep your mouth shut, whore! You’ll find out soon enough what I want. And if you say another word, I’ll cut your tongue out.”

  Lauren could feel the effects from the Taser wearing off and her body returning to normal. She shifted her legs just a little, testing their response. She tried to remember everything she’d learned in the self-defense class she had taken, but her mind was still slightly muddled from the shock. She knew that staying calm was imperative, and keeping Mary Margaret calm was just as important.

  Mary Margaret moved back down to stand at Lauren’s feet, kicking at her legs as she walked by them. She stepped to the door and removed Lauren’s keys from the lock, holding them in one hand.

  “Stand up,” she ordered. To Lauren’s horror, she pulled a gun out of the bag with her free hand and pointed it at her. Lauren suddenly had the memory of being a young teenager and visiting Margie one summer, and of Mary Margaret taking them out into one of the fields and teaching them how to shoot. As she remembered the woman’s proficiency, she knew she was in serious trouble now.

  “Damn you, get up or I’ll kill you where you lay.”

  Struggling for balance on limbs that still felt shaky, Lauren drew her legs up underneath her body and managed to rise. The movement caused her to trip over the cords from the Taser prongs, and they were yanked out
of her back with a vicious tug. She let out a muffled scream at the pain, and landed hard against the wall, hitting her shoulder in the process.

  “Clumsy bitch. That had to hurt a little.” Mary Margaret laughed, and gestured out into the dark with the gun. “Let’s go. We’re going for a little ride, you and me.”

  Walking ahead of her into the yard, Lauren glanced wildly around, looking for an escape route. She wondered if any of her neighbors would see what was going on, but she realized that the light from the streetlights did not reach far enough into the yard to illuminate them. Her heart sank.

  She knew that if she got in the vehicle with Mary Margaret, she probably wouldn’t survive the night. She thought about the conversation she’d had earlier with Charlie. He’d mentioned coming by later, but she had declined his offer. She wished fervently that she had not, but at the same time, she knew that if he had been there, he could easily have been another target. Walking as slowly as she could, she felt the tip of the gun prodding her back.

  “Hurry it up. You think if you go slow, someone’s gonna come riding to your rescue? You’d better think again,” she said, laughing bitterly. “Nobody cares about a whore like you. The only thing you’re good for is spreading your legs for some man, and there’s a dozen more just like you, waiting to take your place. Ain’t nobody gonna be worried about you until it’s too late.”

  As Lauren listened to her rant, she felt a cold, deadly calm wash over her body. Taking a chance, she turned her head and looked at her captor.

  “What are you planning, Mary Margaret? What are you going to do with me?”

  “I’m going to take you back to where you ruined my life and give you what you deserve.”

  They had reached Lauren’s car. Saying a prayer in her head, she took a deep breath and twisted around, using her bound hands as a club. Screaming, she knocked the gun against the car and shoved as hard as she could.

  The older woman cried out, losing her balance and falling against the side of the car. She dropped the gun, and Lauren managed to kick it under the vehicle. She pushed past Mary Margaret, shoving her again to keep her off balance, and ran into the street, screaming the whole way. Porch lights were coming on all around her, but she didn’t stop running. A vehicle was coming down the street, and Lauren ran toward it, hoping the driver would see her in time to stop.

  She could hear Mary Margaret yelling behind her, and glanced back to see where the woman was. A large rock in her hands, she was running toward Lauren, cursing and screaming the whole way. Turning back toward the oncoming vehicle, she saw that the driver had slowed down. She almost collapsed with relief when she saw that it was Charlie’s truck. Moving to the side of the road, she watched as he maneuvered the truck so that it was between her and Mary Margaret. Braking with a screech, he jumped out of the truck, pistol drawn, the barrel pointed down at the ground.

  “Oh, God. Charlie.” She ran into his arms. “Thank God.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. She has a gun. I kicked it away, but she might have found it.”

  Mary Margaret had stopped in the middle of the street when he pulled up. Now, as Charlie moved Lauren aside and started around the front of the truck, she hurled the rock in his direction and took off running back toward Lauren’s house.

  He started after the angry woman. “Stay here.”

  “Charlie, don’t! Please, don’t leave me.” Lauren ran after him, and when he saw that, he stopped, cursing. “Don’t be a hero. Please. Let her go. She’s not worth dying over.”

  “Damn it, I can’t just stand here while she gets away. Don’t ask me to do that.” He grasped her shoulders and moved her back around the truck. Pulling a knife out of his pocket, he cut the tape away from her wrists. Lauren drew in a sharp breath as the tape pulled at her skin. “Now stay here.”

  Before he could run after Mary Margaret, however, the sound of sirens reached their ears, and a sheriff’s department cruiser rounded the curve. It stopped behind Charlie’s truck, and Jason Hudson emerged.

  “Lauren? What’s going on here?” he asked, moving cautiously.

  “Jason, it’s Troy Vernon’s mother, Mary Margaret. She tried to kidnap me.”

  He hurried over to them. “Where is she?”

  “She ran back toward Lauren’s house,” Charlie told him. “Lauren said she had a gun earlier.”

  Jason cursed and radioed for backup. “And Dispatch, can you get a K-9 unit paged out here? I think we’re going to need them.”

  “Affirmative, unit sixteen. Backup is one minute out.”

  “This subdivision backs up to the woods, and this street is the only way out. I want the two of you to get out of here. Go to your parents’ house, Lauren, and we’ll get someone over there ASAP to take your statement. Are you armed?” he asked Charlie.

  “I am.”

  “Good. Get out of here, and stay at your folks’ place until we tell you otherwise.”

  “Deputy, my house is next door to theirs. I can keep them safer there.”

  “Fine. Just get out of here.”

  Charlie helped Lauren into the truck, and as he followed, Jason rushed back to move his cruiser out of the way. As they left, he was pulling forward slowly, using his spotlight to look in between houses and into darkened yards. They passed the second sheriff’s car as Charlie turned onto the street where her parents lived.

  “God, please keep them safe,” Lauren prayed. “Do you think they’ll find her?”

  “I don’t know. I hope so.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Within a couple of minutes, they were pulling into Charlie’s driveway. He hit the garage door opener. “Okay, listen. We’re going in my house, and I’ll call your parents to stay inside… Shit.” Her parents were hurrying across the yard, apparently having seen him come back.

  “Charlie? You found her? Thank God.” Molly started around the truck toward Lauren but he stopped her with a sharp word.

  “We need to get inside, and I’ll explain everything. Go on in the garage.” Thankfully, they didn’t argue, and he drove the truck inside. Once they were all in, he put the door down and he and Lauren got out of the truck.

  “What the hell is going on?” Winston asked as he and Molly went to Lauren.

  Molly gasped when she saw her daughter. “Oh, my God, you’re hurt!”

  In the well-lit garage, Charlie could see the abrasions and bruises on Lauren’s face and legs. “Let’s get you in the house.” He led them into the kitchen, turning on lights as he went. “Have a seat at the table. Win, you know how to use a gun, right?”

  Lauren’s father scowled. “Of course. Why?”

  Charlie handed him the pistol he carried, then closed the shades on the windows over the sink. “Because Mary Margaret attacked Lauren, and she’s on the loose. They’re looking for her now.” Both parents let out shocked gasps.

  Winston looked from Charlie to Lauren and back again. “She what?”

  “I’m going to get the first aid kit and another gun. Win, make sure the doors and windows down here are locked. I’ll be right back.” As he took the stairs two at a time, he could hear Lauren answering her parents’ questions. Making a quick circuit through the rooms on the second floor to make sure all the openings were locked, he grabbed the pistol from his bedside table and tucked it into the empty holster at the small of his back. After a trip into the bathroom for the first aid kit, he climbed back downstairs. The adrenaline rush was starting to wear off.

  Lauren sat at the table with Molly, her face pale as she tried to convince her mother she was okay. “I promise you, she didn’t hurt me. I’m just banged up a little.”

  As he set the kit down on the table, Charlie apologized. “I didn’t mean to be so short and bark out orders. I just needed to get everyone inside and safe. Lauren—what the hell? You’re bleeding!” He dropped to his knees behind her chair and carefully raised the hem of her shirt. She had two vicious puncture wounds just under her bra, and they started to seep a
little from where he’d pulled the shirt away. Gently probing the skin around them, he stopped when she hissed.

  “She tasered me, and the probes came out during the struggle. I’m okay.”

  Charlie couldn’t handle it. Using a hand to brace himself on the table, he rested his head against his arm, his composure cracking. When Winston moved behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, he shook his head. “It was too close. Damn it!”

  “Let’s take a walk, son. Come on. Let Molly clean her up.”

  He let Winston help him to his feet. Without looking at the women, he fled the kitchen and moved into the dark living room. A tight band had wrapped itself around his chest, and he nearly doubled over with the pain. A car drove down the street outside, and he walked to the large window to look out, grateful for the privacy the darkness afforded him.

  Winston moved to stand next to him. “She’s okay, Charlie. Thanks to you, she’s okay. Try to focus on that.”

  The look he shot the older man felt incredulous and not a little wild. “How can I focus on that? If things had been just a little different tonight, she’d be gone.”

  With a sigh, Winston put his arm around Charlie’s shoulders. “I know. And I’m sure we’ll have nightmares. But she’s safe now. Ava wasn’t with her. You’re safe. We have a lot more to be thankful for tonight than we do to regret.”

  They stood like that for a few minutes, until Molly interrupted with a soft cough. “Charlie, can we borrow a t-shirt and a pair of shorts or sweatpants?”

  “Sure. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t meet her eyes as he left the living room. Upstairs, pulling the clothes together, he let himself sag against the dresser for a minute. Seeing Lauren running toward him tonight, hands bound, and Mary Margaret coming behind her, he’d literally felt his heart stop. In that instant, he’d realized just how much Lauren meant to him. The thought that he could lose her, that she could be killed, was devastating. Win was right—he would definitely be having nightmares about that for years to come.