Trust me, I was not the babe in the woods I used to be. I knew where my bread was buttered and who I had to butter to get what I needed. Some individuals were harder to get to than others. I hadn’t pegged him yet, but was close. He probably was thinking the same thing about me.
After getting tired of waiting for him to start, I said, “What have you really seen, George?”
He gave a side-glance and nodded. “Direct first volley.”
I grinned. “I thought so.”
“…What I have seen, I don’t like,” he finally said.
“Such as?”
“Certain individuals arriving and leaving when no one thinks I am coherent enough to understand what might be going on around here.”
Now that was some return volley. “Like who?”
“I’d describe them as rough and unsavory individuals.”
“Doing what?” I asked, leaning forward.
“Coming and going at all hours.”
“Do you have any inkling as to why?”
“I didn’t until I found an object in the field by the barn.”
He got up and returned with a three-foot piece of metal.
I had absolutely no idea what I was looking at. Did he?
“Help me out, here. What am I looking at?”
“A belt drive.”
“Now, what would that be doing here in your field?”
“Good question.”
“But what is this one used for?”
“A motorcycle, a Harley Davidson to be more specific.”
“Aha! I see.” I said, getting his message.
“Look, I know she’s a lot younger than me.”
I leaned in. “But that doesn’t make it right, does it?”
“Exactly my point.”
“So what are we going to do about this?” I asked.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“When is Sarah due back?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Want to come for dinner?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“By the way, how come you’re hearing me perfectly?”
“Oh, that. It’s for show and Sarah’s sake. She’s already counting the inheritance. It’s my delay tactic of sympathy.”
“Is it working?”
“Not by a long shot.”
Chapter 65
Making Nice & Making Friends
The remnants of our delicious dinner lay by the wayside as we all sipped our wine, plus one beer. Our unexpected guest, George, caught everyone off guard. They smiled and nodded when he related what he saw and what he found by his barn; now realizing his agenda was similar to ours.
Martha jumped right in. “So you’re aware of Sarah calling Sam about the missing woods. What a load of bull! She sucked us in good. I wonder why she did that?”
“Maybe to throw us off track to look elsewhere,” I said.
George smiled. “Oh, she’s become quite the polished blueblood since she’s hooked up to yours truly.”
“How did you meet her?” asked Betty.
“She gave me a haircut. I was lost after the first snip.”
“You mean she worked in a salon as a hairdresser?” Hazel asked, surprised.
“Yes, in Tilton. Ah, those days are far behind her now. She considers herself one of the Smiths! Little does she know that I overstated my background to catch her.”
Clay stepped in, keeping the conversation on track. “So, what do you think is going on over at your place, George?”
“Exactly what you now suspect might be going on. Since I heard from Samantha you’re connected, and working undercover, I figured you might want to know.”
“I appreciate the heads up. We’ve been going crazy trying to figure where the chop shops are working from.”
“I think this is one of two barns they’re using.”
“Where is the other located at?” asked Crystal.
“I am not really sure, but I would think nearby.”
“He’s right,” I said. “This way they consolidate loads.”
“How will we find where the other is?” asked Martha.
“I’ve already tried tailing her,” said George. “No go.”
I laughed. “We already know how my tail went down.”
“So,” said Hazel, “Do we sit back and wait?”
“No,” I said. “I think that maybe I might visit someone.”
George got it in a second. “You wouldn’t!”
I smiled. “I am merely using my rules of engagement.”
Clay threw me a look. “And what are those?”
“Act defensive, while you’re watching their back.”
“And that means?” Martha asked.
“I’m going to ask who she thinks is watching my back.”
“Why?”
“I want to see if she squirms when I offer some names.”
Clay said, “Don’t blow it. We don’t want to step in until we’re absolutely sure where the other location is.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll behave.”
George said, “But then, you won’t learn anything.”
“You’re smarter than I had originally thought, George.”
“Don’t be too sure about that. …Let’s wait and see.”
Chapter 66
Rambling & Ramifications
It was a beautiful morning. I had plenty of time before I was scheduled to see Sarah, so I opted for a long hike.
Yeah, I know, I don’t have the best of luck when hiking.
But instead of veering right at the fork that led toward the pond and Boss’ pasture, I veered left for the deeper part of the woods to go check out the stone wall that divided Robinson’s property from Sally and Tom’s. I wanted to find out if I could see his house from there and also gauge the time it took to walk from Sally’s.
In minutes, I was under a canopied, much darker area of the forest than I’d expected. It was heavily bedded with pine needles, so my footsteps were muted on the tightly-packed base, while the wind rustled the branches above.
I continued on, side-stepping trees, stone outcroppings, massive boulders, evergreens and thickets that occasionally blocked the old path, determined to find my way to the stone walls, which would give me a better idea how close Robinson’s property line was. Could someone cut through easily at night to avoid using the road?
After seeing a deer and a fox dart across the path, I tried ignoring a branch cracking now and then. I still worried though. But figured as long as I kept to the trail, I would eventually end up back at the Sally’s house. Of course I might come from a different angle than where I started out, but I would nevertheless safely end up at the house.
After several more minutes, the forest itself began to close in. When another branch cracked much louder, I turned. My mouth flew open. Where was the path? I spun back to where I was headed, realizing I wasn’t following a path at all. Somehow I must have deviated and forged my own way and not realized it, thinking I was still on the trail.
When I reached into my jacket pocket and yanked out my cell, my stomach did a flip. No signal! I threw it back into my pocket, pivoting in place. Which way was home?
My sense of direction and confidence was completely thrown off because, with the thick tree canopy overhead, there was no way to gage the sun. Plain and simple, I was lost. I felt I had the word idiot stamped on my forehead for coming out there alone.
…Crack! I whipped around. …There it was again!
The hair rose on my neck. I gave a fleeting thought to hiding behind the large trunk of a tree. But where would I stand? I had no idea where those sounds were coming from. I took a calming breath and decided to keep moving. If someone was following me, then the chances were good that they had done so from the house, so the only thing to do was to keep walking forward.
Yes, but now which way was forward?
When push came to shove, it really didn’t matter, did it?
Chapter
67
Lost & Found
I began running, vaulting over fallen trees and branches, trying to keep as silent as possible. Was someone watching me, laughing at my feeble attempt to get away? Were they running parallel and keeping pace with me? My breathing was becoming labored. I had to get out of the woods, but had no clue which way. Was I running in circles?
I didn’t dare stop to think about which direction either, I just ran. In the dim light, I kept checking my cell for a signal, but it was a no go. I was in a cell no-fly zone.
After a few minutes, I found myself staring at the stone row, the property line. I came to a halt, panting, trying to decide what to do. I didn’t want to waste any time plotting some strategy that was sure to prove worthless. Then it hit me as I stared up at a tree with several reachable branches that might be my lifesaver. Being lost, no way could I outrun whoever was following me.
I leaped up onto the stone wall and grabbed the first branch and started climbing the giant evergreen as fast as I could. When I felt comfortable that I was camouflaged enough from who might be out there, I sat, staring down to identify my stalker and waited…and waited…and waited.
Nothing. I was about to climb down thinking I was being a complete fool to let my imagination get away from me when I heard someone approach. I sucked in a breath and stayed perfectly still.
A figure came into view. A male. However, I couldn’t identify who. I was too high up. His stance felt familiar, but doubt lingered because of his bandanna, sunglasses and bulky jacket, jeans and boots. …Was that an ear stud?
The bark tore into my sweaty palms as I gripped the branch to steady myself. Thankfully he seemed to have no clue as to my hiding place. But he appeared annoyed and began pacing, then stopped to listen. …I held my breath…
After a minute, he loped over the stone wall and ran toward Robinson’s. That was my signal to get out of there. I descended, then swung down and fell gratefully to the ground in a soft landing on the pine needles, brushed myself off and began running in the opposite direction.
I wasn’t waiting around for him to return and start looking up. I had to get back to friendly territory. I don’t know how long I ran, scraping branches and stumbling on logs, but eventually, by some miracle, I ended up out on the edge of one of the other fenced-in horse pastures.
As I raced toward the house, I grabbed my phone. Now I had a signal! But why bother calling anyone? It was too late. Whoever had followed me was long gone. Even though I had a plenty of time to freshen up before my visit to Sarah, my mental clock was ticking away. I was literally running out of time. My trip to go home was days away.
Chapter 68
Separating Fact From Fiction
I had arranged to meet with Sarah without her husband, George, around. This way she might feel free to speak her mind. Even though George was cooperative, I wasn’t sure what he hoped to accomplish by confiding in us.
Maybe he was looking to incriminate his wife, Sarah. What for? A distraction? Or, was he trying to dump her? If so, he had a strange way of doing it. Things were never as simple as they appeared on the surface.
What was Sarah after? Was she stringing her husband along until something better came knocking? Was she really who George claimed she was, a former hairdresser? Was there something more going on here than met the eye?
Were they both telling the truth about each other? Or was I being deliberately distracted, and if so, why? Okay, no need to go there. I’d been there so many times before I felt dizzy, as though I was in a revolving door.
I tapped the doorbell and within a minute she answered. Her shoulder-length auburn hair was tastefully styled. She wore what looked like designer jeans, plain flats and short-sleeved top. Nothing exposed, skin or otherwise, were in sight. It was the perfect conservative outfit.
I also noticed the absence of tattoos or rubies of any kind. She was checking me out at the same time. Now that we were alone, with no one else distracting either one of us, there was time to evaluate the other.
“Samantha, I was glad to hear from you. Do you have any news regarding my missing woods?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. No news on that front.”
A flicker of disappointment briefly flashed by. She stepped back from the door. “Please, come in. I have refreshments for us in the kitchen.”
Having been in their house before, I feigned surprise at the charming interior, which apparently I already knew was restored with a sharp eye for historic detail. “Very nice.”
“Thank you, but I can’t take the credit. My interior decorator handled the whole thing. George and I merely agreed to the price.”
And what a price I bet it was. Did she care? I doubted it, her having married into a great meal ticket. She was still talking, but apparently, I hadn’t caught the first part.
“…George is such a darling when it comes to fine detail. He has spared no expense just to make me happy, but…”
I jumped on it. “But what?”
“Living the good life might soon be a thing of the past.”
“Why do you say that?”
“George said that our money is virtually all gone.”
“You’re kidding!”
“No. He claims bad investments, but I think he might be involved in something shady.”
Chapter 69
Cover Ups & Covering Up
Okay, when did this interview turn on a dime, leaving me trying to scrape together a new angle on getting info? Was she trying to throw me by making that provocative statement? Why confide in me? Another diversion?
I sat back thinking over what George had warned me about. Were they both playing off each other to protect something? If not, what could they hope to accomplish by throwing a distraction into the mix?
“Why would you think that?” I asked.
“I can’t put my finger on anything specific, but he has been acting strange lately.”
“In what way?”
“He thinks I’m not paying attention, but he is doing things that he normally wouldn’t do.”
“Like what?”
“I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but it all started when I thought he might be having an affair on the side.”
Old George was having an affair?
“How about we start at the beginning and maybe I can make sense out of what you’re trying to tell me,” I said.
“Well, it all began a few months ago when I was going to New York for a few days. A friend of mine took me to the airport so I wouldn’t have to leave my car there. We got about three miles out when I realized I had forgotten something important and needed to go back to get it. When we were about to turn the corner onto my road, I saw George driving my car, turning in the opposite direction.”
“Why did you find that suspicious?”
“He claimed he couldn’t drive because of his eyesight and his bad back. So I’ve been driving us everywhere.”
“Did you ever bring up that one sighting with him?”
“After I thought it over, I figured maybe I was jumping to conclusions about being so suspicious of him and said nothing. Maybe he took the car out for a lark that one time. But it happened several more times after that initial incident. I even tried to follow him in a car I had rented for one trip to the airport, but I lost sight of him at a light.”
“What do you think is going on?”
“I don’t know.” Then her face reddened. “I hate to admit this, but I found his diary and snuck a peek at it.”
“Anything in it you’d want to share?” I asked eagerly.
“Not one damn thing about another woman. Although I began reading about some kind of ring he spotted one day.”
“What kind of ring?” Did she suspect he knew?
“I never found out. I heard him coming down the hall and put the diary back in its hiding place in his bedroom. After that, he must have hid it in another location.”
His bedroom? “…You sleep in separate rooms?”
&nbs
p; Sarah looked down at her lap. “Yes, since his accident.”
Chapter 70
Accidentally On Purpose?
“What accident?” I asked.
“A year ago when he was riding that unpredictable horse, Boss, George broke his leg and bruised his ribs. I wanted to shoot that nasty horse right there on the spot.”
I understood her frustration. “I see.”
“No you don’t! All George did was sweet talk Sally and Tom into taking Boss. That was still too close for me.”
That explained why Sarah was so upset.
“Does George ever go over to see Boss now?”
“No! He promised he was finished with Boss and had nothing more to do with him. But now, he ignores my horses, too. I don’t know what has come over him. Why would he be behaving so strangely?”
“Do you mind if I ask about your separate bedrooms?”
“Not at all. He claims he is in too much pain to sleep in the same bed and moved into the guest bedroom.”
I looked over at her and thought that very strange. She was a stunner. Why would he give her the brush-off and move to a separate room? What was going on that he didn’t want her to see? Was he coming and going at odd hours?
There was no end to the constant possibilities going on inside my head. I needed more information to go on. Was Sarah telling the truth? I’ve walked down that iffy truth road so often I’d become a chronic doubter.
I switched topics. “Have you noticed all the traffic going up and down the road lately?”
“Nothing that would make me suspicious. Why? Is there something going on that I should know about?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to push further on that, yet. I was still trying to figure out where she fit in with George’s accusations. In a way, I felt she was upset and telling the truth, but then I had the feeling she might be talking herself out of a verbal trap in which I might catch her. Was she the one in the dark as to what was really going on about the parts, or was George the innocent as he claimed to be?
A Lethal Time (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 4) Page 12