"Dammit, get out of the way!"
The hipster in the cap looked calmly at me. "Chill, man. There's no fire here."
I skidded to a stop. Toni halted next to me.
Every customer in Black and Brewed stood and moved to block the exit. They stared at us, their pale faces expressionless.
A chill crept up my spine. I had seen a movie years ago called Village of the Damned. All those kids, cute as could be, had stared at George Sanders with the same dead-eyed, vacant expressions we were getting.
"Get out of the way," Toni said, unintimidated. She'd had years of experience with unruly classrooms and knew the exact tone to take.
A few of the younger patrons, those who had been out of school for perhaps a year or two, shuffled uncomfortably. The rest stood rock still, their faces inscrutable.
"I told you, man," said the hipster, a smirk on his face. "Chill."
"Why are you doing this?" I said. "Why are you protecting him?"
The hipster moved to stand in front of me. "Who?"
"The guy who just ran out of here. Big as a pickup. Scrapes on his face."
"Nobody ran out of here." He turned to face the crowd. "Anybody see a guy run out of here?" When no one replied, he turned back to me. "See, man. You're mistaken. No one was here.” His smirk faded. “Sit down. Finish your coffee. We pride ourselves on our brew."
Toni stiffened beside me. She wasn't used to this kind of treatment from someone more than fifteen years her junior.
Several of the patrons noticed her reaction and turned to face her. Their expressions didn't change, yet I could sense the threat, even if I couldn't see it.
These people were capable of violence.
"We're leaving," I told the hipster. "I suggest you get out of the way."
"And if I don't?"
"Then we'll let Gordon Couttis handle it."
The hipster's eyebrows climbed his forehead. "You know the chief?"
"Met him last week. Nice guy. I'm sure he'd love to hear that a group of his law-abiding citizens assaulted two tourists in his town." On an impulse, I pulled out my cell. "Shall we call him?"
He glanced at my phone. Sweat had broken out along his upper lip, and his eyes held less certainty. "You're bluffing. You don't have his number."
"It's 9-1-1, you moron." I lifted my shirt, exposing my new wounds. "The guy you let get away may have done this, and if he did, I'll push for an obstruction charge against you. Think about it. Jail time, a court trial. How much money would it take to defend yourself? Lots, I'm guessing." I lowered my shirt. "You sure you want to push it?"
The room was completely still, completely quiet.
We looked like a tableau of a riot moments before the fighting broke out.
The hipster motioned for the others to sit.
"Go," he said. "Leave. No one here will stop you." His smirk returned. "No one here would've."
Bullshit, I thought as I grabbed Toni and led her out of the shop. They might have stopped short of killing us, but they would definitely have stopped us.
Which led to another thought.
How many people in Emersville were involved in this mystery?
* * *
There was no sign of the big guy with the scratched up face.
"Did you see what he was driving?" I asked Toni.
She shook her head. "You can't see the parking lot from inside the shop."
I shook with rage. The crisis had passed and emotions rolled over me like a battering ram. Why were they protecting this guy? Was the whole goddamn town involved?
"Look." Toni pointed at the long window that fronted Black and Brewed.
Faces filled the glass. Every person inside the shop was staring at us.
A sea of expressionless, doll-like faces.
I don't know which was more terrifying, those blank stares, or the fact they all stood, motionless and unblinking.
Both, I decided. Both frightened me.
"Come on," I said. "We'd better leave."
"I think you're right," Toni replied, and we crossed the street.
I'd unlocked the 4Runner when I heard the sound of a car approaching. The noise was distant, low and throaty, but quickly turned into an angry growl. Headlights appeared, two glowing eyes in the darkness. The car raced down the street, the engine shedding decibels as the driver accelerated. It shot past us, pulling enough air in its wake to ruffle our clothes.
A car racing through Emersville was an odd sight this late in the evening, when most of the town had called it quits for the night.
The more amazing sight was the driver.
"Brad," Toni said, her voice holding as much amazement as I felt. "What’s she doing here?"
I hadn't been seeing things. Kerry Swinicki, wife of the man who currently held the top spot in my own personal Amber Alert system, had just sped past us like Jeff Gordon high on crystal meth.
"What's she doing here?" Toni repeated.
I climbed into the car and cranked the ignition. "Let’s find out."
* * *
Kerry had a good mile lead on us, and she was already driving the Explorer's pistons as hard as they could go. Luckily, the road was a straight, inky line, and we had no trouble seeing her progress.
The older 4Runner, however, struggled to keep up, let alone gain on her.
"Do you think she left the kids alone?" Toni said worriedly. "Do you really think she could?"
I checked the mirrors, half expecting blue-and-red lights to appear in the distance. When none did, I nudged the speedometer past eighty. Ahead, Kerry's brake lights flashed, and her car sped around a corner and out of sight.
"Dammit." I stomped on the accelerator. "Dammit, dammit, dammit."
We raced down the road. The hum of the tires grew to a strained whine. Street lights flickered past us. I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my hands ached.
"I don't understand any of this," Toni said. "Why isn't she home, waiting for news of Frank?"
"Maybe she heard something," I said, slowing the car so it didn't spin out on the curve.
"Okay, then where are the police?"
I’d slowed, but not enough. The 4Runner skidded sideways. The steering wheel slipped in my sweaty grip. Toni let out a shriek and grabbed the handle bolted to the ceiling.
I eased up fully on the accelerator and let the car have its lead. It soon regained its traction. We were back hurtling down the road.
Toni let go of the handle. Her hands trembled as she smoothed back her hair. She looked like she'd aged a year in two minutes. "Where did she go? Do you see her car?"
"Nothing. I don't see a damn thing." Scaling back the speed, I looked out the window. Trees formed a dark, impenetrable wall along my side of the road. "Keep your eyes open," I said, pointing out her window. "Let me know if you see anything."
We had traveled almost five miles when Toni smacked the dash with the palm of her hand. "We lost her."
I was about to suggest we turn around and search from the other direction when I saw a flash of red. It came from the woods, not too far ahead of us. I grabbed Toni's arm. "Did you see that?"
"What?"
"A brake light, I think, in the woods. There has to be a road or a path nearby." I slowed the car, my eyes straining to see through the darkness. Then I spotted it: a narrow dirt path winding its way from the road. "Look there, off to the left, between those pines."
"I see it. Where do you think it leads?"
"Only one way to find out." I slowed the car to a crawl and snaked it between the trees. Branches scraped the sides of the 4Runner and crunched under its tires. The uneven ground jostled us as we slipped into the woods. I turned off the headlights, plunging us into darkness.
"What are you doing?" Toni whispered.
"I don't want to tip her off that we're here."
We waited five minutes for our eyes to adjust. The wink of moon helped.
"Can you see?" I asked Toni.
"Barely." She gestured out the windshield.
"Looks like it curves left up there."
The 4Runner edged along the path. Twice I had to stop abruptly before we hit a tree, but after another ten minutes of creeping forward, we came to a clearing and I parked the car.
A lake spread out before us. The moon's reflection floated like a white scar on its smooth surface.
Parked off to one side, tires almost touching the water, was Kerry's Explorer.
Toni opened her door. "Do you think she's in there?"
"Nowhere else to go." I climbed out of the 4Runner. Crickets chirped, frogs croaked. The night air carried the scent of dead leaves and algae and...something else. Something sour and unpleasant. "What's that smell?"
"Farts," Toni said. "It smells like cow farts. When I was a kid, I used to ride horses. Each weekend, Mom took me to a stable outside Kalamazoo. They had cattle and pigs as well as horses. The place stunk to high heaven." She looked at me. "It smells just like cow farts."
I almost laughed, except it wasn't funny. Cow farts contain methane, and methane was flammable. "Where do you think it's coming from?"
"My guess is swamp gas. Stagnant water mixes with decaying organic matter and releases methane. There's probably a cutaway or a bog somewhere along the shoreline where the water accumulates."
"Methane's flammable, right?" I asked, just to make sure.
"I wouldn't recommend lighting a match."
Great. "Let's check on Kerry."
We found the Explorer empty and the doors locked, with Kerry's cell phone and purse on the driver's seat. Her jacket lay draped over the front seat.
"Are the keys in the ignition?" I asked.
"No," Toni said. "Wherever she went, she took them with her."
"Good. She plans on coming back."
Toni looked at me curiously, then her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "No, not Kerry. She wouldn't do that to her family."
I stuffed my hands in my pockets to warm them. "Think about it. The isolation, where no one would find her right away. Her personal possessions left behind. The trauma of Frank missing, especially if she learned something terrible had happened. It could have overwhelmed her." I paused. "But I don't think that's the case here. She took her car keys. She intends to come back."
Toni remained worried. I couldn't blame her. There was no good reason for a person to come here at this time of night, yet Kerry had come, in a rush, and leaving behind important, possibly life-saving items like her jacket and cell phone.
"Where do you think she went?" Toni said. "There's nothing out here. No people, no other cars."
"I don't think a little light would hurt." Pulling out my cell, I tapped an icon and the tiny bulb in the back lit up. I held the phone low to the ground. "Let's see where she went."
The light revealed damp earth with irregular patches of grass, a few twigs, a scattering of rotting leaves, and footprints. They led away from the car and toward the lake. We followed them until they stopped at the edge of the water.
Stopped—or went in.
I lifted my phone. The light wasn't powerful enough to see more than a foot or two in front of us.
"Wait here." I hurried back to the car, cranked the ignition, and flipped on the headlights. The powerful beams shot out across the water.
I rejoined Toni. "See any sign of her?"
She shook her head. "She did it, didn't she? She walked out into the water." Her voice cracked. "She killed herself."
I put my arm around her and held her tightly. I didn't say anything. Sometimes silence says it all.
Her shoulders shook as she began to cry. "How could she? How could she do that to the kids? To us?" Her knees buckled, and I had to catch her to keep her from falling into the water. "Oh god! Her baby!"
I held my wife. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying.
Only one thing could have pushed Kerry to something this drastic.
Frank Swinicki was dead.
Chapter Thirteen
We reported the emergency, after which we called the Swinicki's. Nathan, the oldest, answered. He sounded frantic, wondering why their mom had run off, and where their dad was. I calmed him down the best I could and asked if a neighbor could come watch them. He said he would call Mrs. Collins next door. She'd covered in emergencies before. He sounded near tears when he hung up.
Twenty minutes later, the cavalry arrived. A police cruiser, an ambulance, and a florescent yellow rescue vehicle wound their way toward us. Once they cleared the woods, an officer popped out of the cruiser and hustled over to us. The ambulance parked off to one side. Two men jumped out of the rescue vehicle and quickly unpacked wet suits, scuba tanks, masks, and powerful underwater spotlights.
The officer introduced himself as Ted Sytniak. His gaze drifted to the lake. "It's been what, almost an hour since she went in?"
"You think they can find her?" I pointed to the men donning the wet suits. "It's almost pitch black, and the water's likely to be murky."
"They know what they're doing," Sytniak said. He was tall, stocky, with hair so pale it was almost invisible. "How'd you folks find your way out here?"
"My best friend," Toni said, wiping her eyes. She had been almost inconsolable while I phoned the police. Only a tremendous effort and an iron will had allowed her to keep it together. "We saw her racing through town and followed her."
"Your friend would be"—he checked his notes—"Kerry Swinicki?"
"Yes," I told him. "Her husband's a detective with Rock Mills PD."
"Why isn't he here?"
I related the disappearance of Frank and my suspicion about Kerry learning of her husband's death. "It would explain why she did what she did."
"Have you checked to see if there's news?" Sytniak said.
Checked? Christ on a cross, I could be stupid. "I didn't."
"Let me see what I can find out." Sytniak lifted a phone to his ear and began talking.
While the officer made his call, Toni and I watched the divers wade into the lake, their black wet suits barely visible in the darkness. They disappeared under the water, their lights glowing algae green as they searched for Kerry's body.
Annabelle St. Crux’s words suddenly came back to me.
Water is the beginning and the end! Remember that! Remember it!
I stared out over the lake. It didn’t seem possible, but had the old woman been trying to warn us—had she pulled information from the future and related it to us in the present?
It didn’t make sense. Then again, neither did the existence of dolls that tried to kill you.
"I still can't believe this," Toni said. "How could she do that to an unborn child?"
"Friday night's card game,” I said, deciding to keep with the mundane and explicable. “She’d been behaving oddly. The inappropriate joke, the emotional outburst. Maybe something was wrong back then." Gestational depression wasn't uncommon, though Kerry hadn't shown signs of it with her other pregnancies. "Maybe this wasn’t as sudden as we think."
Officer Sytniak approached. "I talked with a Detective Dillon. There haven’t been any developments in the Swinicki case. To the best of his knowledge, no one told Mrs. Swinicki her husband was dead." Sytniak frowned. "You sure it was your friend you saw?"
"Run the plate," I said, gesturing to the Explorer.
"I did," he said. "It's hers."
"Then what's the problem?"
"It's strange," Sytniak said. "Three Rock Mills residents come together at the shore of a little-known lake miles from their homes. One is missing, having apparently killed herself by drowning, while the other two stand by and watch. If you ask me, something doesn't add up. Especially given the fact there was no news on her husband."
There was a hardness in his voice I didn't like. "We didn’t watch her drown."
"Yes," Toni said. "She was already in the lake when we arrived."
Officer Sytniak turned to her. "How do I know that?"
"Because we told you," Toni said.
"Do you have anyone to corroborate your st
ory? Any other witnesses?"
"Out here?" she said, her exasperation building.
"Exactly. All we have to go on is your word. It may not be enough." Sytniak paused. "We may have to dig deeper, find out exactly how you ended up here."
Toni rocked back on her heels. "I can't believe this. My best friend is dead, and you're questioning us?"
The situation was quickly spiraling out of control. I made a calming gesture with my hands. "We're on the same side here. We can do better if we cooperate."
Toni and the police officer glared at one another. Several seconds passed. Surprisingly, the officer caved first.
"You're right," he said with a sigh. "I have two points I'd like to make." He had reeled in his attitude. He now sounded more deliberate than suspicious. "First, until we find a body, we can't be sure she's dead. Second, it's my job to ask questions. It's what I do. It doesn't mean you're sitting at the top of the suspect list, provided we do find a body, but you were here when she went into the water, or soon afterward. You're an eye-witness of sorts. You're going to be questioned about your presence, and should the evidence point that way, your involvement." His voice softened. "Sorry if I was abrupt. We haven't had a death like this since I started the job. There have been hunting accidents, floaters who turn up after ice fishing ends, but nothing suspicious." He looked back toward the trail. "I called the chief. He should be here soon."
"Then what?" I asked.
"A lot will depend on whether we recover a body."
"She was pregnant," Toni said. "Six weeks."
The three of us were quiet for a moment. Whether it was respect for a dead child or remorse for a mother pushed beyond her limits didn’t matter. Grief was a shared penance: like food set out at a wake, you sampled it because your soul craved comfort, not simply because you were hungry.
Officer Sytniak interrupted the silence. "Do you mind if I ask some questions?"
Toni nodded glumly, and I said, "Sure."
We described the events that occurred in Emersville, including the bizarre encounter at Black and Brewed, and how we followed Kerry's mad dash to the lakeside. Toni turned away when I got to the part about following Kerry's footprints to the water's edge.
The Conveyance Page 15