RUN FASTER: A Hallie James Mystery (The Hallie James Mysteries Book 2)

by DK Herman

  "Are we going after Woody?" She asked.

  I shook my head. "Not yet. I just spoke to Chief Woods. He's still working on the warrant."

  Poppy sat down in her chair, reminding me of a deflating balloon. "I can't just keep waiting," she said. "What if they're hurting him, or not feeding him, or leaving him in the cold? What if they kill him?" Her eyes looked into mine with such raw pain, I cringed.

  "Ben's upstairs getting a few things. I'm going to drive him to my house. He's going to stay there until he can use his arm better." I bent down and gave Poppy a hug. "I'll be back later, and we’ll think of something. And Chief Woods could get the warrant at any time."

  Poppy nodded, but her eyes looked distant. I didn't like leaving her like this, but Rayna came to my rescue.

  "Poppy, let’s walk over to the coffee shop and get a snack," Rayna said, taking Poppy's hand and pulling her to her feet. "Come on, sweetie. The fresh air will do us good."

  I walked with them, out the front door. I watched Poppy walk down the sidewalk with Rayna as if she were in a trance. They entered Brew's, and Ben came out of his apartment with a gym bag. We climbed into the Denali and drove to my house.

  My family was delighted to see Ben. Liv even had a batch of sticky buns fresh out of the oven. We took a tray full into the sunroom with pot of coffee to talk for a while. There was hysterical laughter when George regaled Ben with his story of decking Kasey.

  “And then Rupert peed on him,” Ben repeated, he held his stomach while he laughed. “Good boy,” he said to the little dog, sitting on my grandmother’s lap.

  I finished my sticky bun and excused myself to go back to work.

  Back in my car, my phone rang. Hoping it was Chief Woods with good news about the warrant, I answered without looking at the display.

  "Hallie, I don't know what to do!" Rayna's panicked voice came through my phone.

  "What's wrong?" Nothing too bad, please.

  "I went to the bathroom, and Poppy stole my keys. She took off in my car. I found a note saying, she's going to that body shop to get Woody!”

  "Tell Jessie, and have her call Andy. I'm on my way there now."

  THIRTEEN

  I hit the highway and took the speedometer up to eighty, passing anything in my way. Slowing down to thirty-five, I made it through the Main Street stop light. Judging by the lights and sirens just ahead of me, I knew I wouldn’t get stopped by the police. When I was sure, I was clear of other vehicles, I floored the Denali’s accelerator.

  The last mile to Deeter’s flew by, and I soon pulled into the body shop. Five police cruisers had just pulled in fast enough that the dust hadn’t settled yet. Chief Woods and Andy jumped out of one and entered the large cinder block building. I moved my gun from my purse to my coat pocket and followed.

  Inside the body shop’s office, all I could see was the back of blue uniforms. But I could hear Poppy’s voice. I jockeyed for a better position and was finally able to see her.

  “You’re lying!” Poppy declared, poking Marv Deeter in the chest with her finger. “Woody is here, somewhere. I can feel it.”

  Marv Deeter’s face turned purple with rage. “Get this crazy, little, bitch away from me.” His eyes looked at the audience of blue uniforms in front of him. “I don’t know no Woody.”

  “Stop lying!” Poppy gave Marv a shove that rocked him back on his heels.

  “Mr. Deeter, if you consent to a search of your property, we could clear this up,” Chief Woods said.

  “No way,” Marv said. “I know my rights. You ain’t got no reason to search my place.” He glared at Poppy angrily. “You can’t take her word for nothing. Just get her outta here, or I’ll press charges. She’s trespassing on my property.”

  Damn it, he was right! How could I get Poppy out of here before the police had no choice but to arrest her? I pushed through the men to Poppy’s side. “He’s right, Poppy. We have to leave.”

  “Not without my husband!” Poppy insisted. And before I could stop her, she reached up and slapped Marv’s face.

  Marv drew back and let a punch fly at Poppy. But I grabbed his fist before it connected and bent his wrist back at a painful angle. Something metal clattered to the floor, landing at my feet.

  Poppy drew in a breath and screamed. “I told you he has Woody. Look, it’s the watch I gave him for Christmas.”

  She was right. I was there when she gave it to him on Christmas morning. It was a beautiful Rolex that she’d won at an online auction.

  Marv tried to bend over and retrieve the watch. “That’s my watch,” he declared, trying to shake me off.

  Chief Woods stepped forward and picked up the watch with a handkerchief. He examined the front and back, a slow smile forming on his face. He turned and nodded to Andy, who stepped forward and gently pushed Poppy and me back.

  “Marv, I need you to lay on the ground, your hands on your head,” Chief Woods said sternly.

  Marv glanced around like a cornered animal, looking for a way to escape. There was none, so he did as he was told. “You can’t do nothin to me. It might look like her man’s, but that’s my watch,” he declared.

  “To Woody, with all my love, Poppy,” Chief Woods read from the back of the watch.

  Andy and Jeff Davis handcuffed Marv and got him to his feet.

  “Where is Woody Hopper?” Chief Woods asked Deeter.

  “I don’t know no Woody,” Deeter repeated stubbornly.

  “Search him, and put him in the back of a car, under watch,” Chief Woods instructed his men.

  “Does this mean, they can look for Woody now?” Poppy’s eyes filled with tears.

  I put an arm around her slender shoulders. “Yes. If he’s here, they’ll find him.”

  “I need you girls to step outside,” Chief Woods said gently. “We’ll let you know if we find him.”

  Poppy nodded and let me lead her out to the Denali. We sat inside my car, watching the flurry of activity, in and around the body shop.

  “Oh, Hallie.” Poppy said, her entire body shaking. “What if they’ve already killed him?”

  “Try not to think like that, sweetie,” I said. “They needed him to make their drugs. I think he’s still alive.”

  Poppy nodded again but remained silent, her eyes watching the police search. I watched with her, silently praying for the men to find Woody alive. But after an hour, the activity slowed down.

  I saw Andy near the office door. “Stay here for a minute,” I said, sliding out the driver’s door.

  I approached the office, and knocked on the plate-glass window, and waited until Andy came outside. “Nothing?” I asked impatiently.

  “We didn’t find Woody or the meth lab. But we found a few of the Run Faster baggies, piano wire, and wooden dowels.” Andy looked at me, a grim expression on his face. “We’re looking for clues to a second location.”

  “Has anyone looked around inside his shack?” Woody had to be found. If they came up empty, Poppy would lose it.

  “Phil and Jason are back there, “Andy said, waving to Chief Woods, who started outside to us. “They haven’t reported finding anything yet.

  “Damn it,” I muttered. “I wish I could help.”

  “Fresh eyes might be just what we need,” Chief Woods said. “But I’d rather not have Mrs. Hopper inside.”

  I took out my cell and called my office. Jessie agreed to bring Rayna, to sit with Poppy while I went inside.

  I hung up and waved to Kate Lowry, standing outside the police car that held a handcuffed Marv Deeter. She looked as unfriendly as she did in her picture. But, if I had her debt, I wouldn't look happy either. Nodding curtly, she climbed into the front of the cruiser.

  I got into my car and explained to Poppy, what was going on. I stressed the point that the police were allowing me assist in the search, but if she interfered, it would be over. For Woody’s sake, she had to stay in the car.

  Soon, Rayna hopped out of Jessie’s car. I waved to her and got out of my car to talk
to her. “Stay with her, no matter what. If she tries to get out of the car, tell her they'll stop the search.”

  Rayna nodded and got into the driver’s seat of the Denali. I saw her embrace Poppy before I joined the police inside.

  "Andy and I will walk you through it," Chief Woods said. I followed him into the work area.

  There was a box of various items, in evidence bags, on a stool. My eyes widened at the sight of two lengths of piano wire, wooden dowels fastened to the ends.

  "They look identical to the garrotes we found around the victim's necks," Chief Woods said.

  My eyes slowly scanned the rest of the garage. Paint, car parts, and tools were littered everywhere. The garage had two bays with a row of large rolling tool boxes in the center. Besides the door I'd just come through, there were three more regular doors, and a set of large garage doors

  My priority was to find Woody. So I was concentrating on any space large enough to conceal him. "What's behind the doors?"

  "I'll show you," Andy volunteered. He handed me a pair of disposal gloves and led the way to the first door.

  Nearest to the office, the filth encrusted door failed to prepare me for what was on the other side. It was a bathroom that hadn't been cleaned in years, if ever. Several car deodorizers hung in random spots, but they didn't make a dent in the stench. It looked like Marv never aimed and just pointed himself in the general direction of the toilet. Feces was crusted to the outside of the bowl, and there were brown smears on the wall.

  It was a small room with no closets, so I went back out the door before I passed out from holding my breath.

  "That was charming. What's behind door number two?" I walked toward a door, a few feet away from the bathroom. It was painted blue, and had a torn poster of a naked blonde, duct taped to it.

  Andy turned the knob and waved me inside. He snapped on the bare bulb over our heads and waved a hand around. "A storage closet," he said.

  Cruddy metal shelves, held cans of different colors of paint, and dusty boxes with labels that read; putty, lead, sandpaper, and primer. No space to hide a body. I went back out to the main work area.

  "That door," Andy pointed to a gray door in the back wall, "goes outside."

  "What's behind the garage doors?" I asked.

  "It's a paint booth," Andy said. Come on, I'll show you.

  I followed him across the large workspace, between the huge rolling tool boxes, past a large air compressor, and over car fenders. He opened a set of hinged garage doors and snapped on a switch, causing a blaze of fluorescent lights to buzz to life.

  The entire room was painted white. It magnified the fluorescent lights hung on the ceiling and walls. This created a work-space without shadows. It was better to paint a car, but it gave me a headache. And again, there was no space to hide a person.

  I went back out and began snooping around the walls, looking for a hidden door. I looked up and saw bare rafters, which meant no attic. And there was hard cement floor under my feet.

  "I'd like to see his shack and snoop around outside," I said.

  "Go with her, Andy," Chief Woods said. "I want to stay with the office search."

  Andy nodded and went to the door in the back wall. After unlocking a deadbolt, it opened smoothly onto a twelve by six-foot cement pad.

  "Is that an outdoor wood burner?" I asked, pointing to the large, green, rectangular box, fifteen feet from the back door.

  "Yeah, a lot of people have them," Andy said, helping me pick my way through a minefield of fenders, bumpers, grills, wheels, and tires. Here and there, household garbage was strewn and decomposing.

  "This is where Marv lives?" I asked grimacing.

  Sure, I’d lived in an RV four six months, but this ramshackle mess was a stepdown from a cardboard box. To call it a shack was being kind. The exterior was tarpaper, tacked over plywood, under a mismatched, rusty tin roof. I braced myself and followed Andy inside.

  There was rotting trash, beer cans, pizza boxes and a filthy mattress on the floor. A kitchen area had an old stove and fridge, and a sink full of clothes soaking in dark brown water.

  Phil and Jason Brady were slowly looking through everything, but not of finding much to bag.

  Jason held up an evidence bag. "More drug baggies, Andy. These have residue in them. If he was making meth, he was using a lot of his own product."

  "Well, he wasn't spending his profits on home decor," Andy grimaced.

  The small shack only had one room. "There's no bathroom?"

  "Nope, he must use the one in the garage or outside," Phil said.

  "There's no place to hide a person in here," Andy said.

  "Nope," Phil said. "No trapdoors, no basement."

  "Basement," I said out loud. I turned and went back outside to the wood burner.

  Andy, Jason, and Phil followed on my heels.

  "You look like you have an idea," Andy said. "Share with us."

  "The wood burner, it has pipes that didn't come through the inside wall." I walked around it. A stack of wood was piled next to the garage wall, directly in the path of the pipes. I began moving the split logs.

  The three men, not sure why I was moving the wood pile, began helping. Soon, half of the pile was gone, and cracked plywood showed a dark space beneath it. Excited, Phil and Jason pulled up the rotten plywood revealing a window well.

  "There is a basement under the garage!" Andy exclaimed. "Phil, get the Chief."

  Phil ran inside while the rest of us examined our find. It was about four feet deep with a mud bottom. A two by two-foot window, minus its glass, was boarded up from the inside.

  Chief Woods ran out the back door. "I'll be damned. There is a basement."

  "Should we get something and break in those boards?" Jason asked.

  "There has to be an easier way in," I said biting my lip. "Let's check the floor, inside the garage. Did you move everything?"

  "Yeah, but all I found was a drain, and that wasn't very deep," Jason said.

  "Let me see it." I went back inside and waited impatiently for the men.

  Jason and Phil led us to the center of the work area and moved the biggest rolling tool box. Underneath was a drain grill, about two by three feet in size.

  "Who's got a flashlight?" I asked.

  Phil handed me his, and I got down in my hands and knees. This had to be it. I shined the light through the grill.

  A foot deep, there wasn’t any dirt or water on the bottom. I stood up, brushing off my knees. "Can we get the grill up?" The cement edge around the grill was clean. If it hadn’t been moved recently, dirt would be packed in the crack around it.

  Andy picked up a crowbar from a nearby toolbox and hooked it through the grill. It lifted easily. He bent down and shined his flash light into the hole. There’s a lever, I think there’s a trap door down here," Andy said excitedly. After reaching into the hole, he pulled on something and there was a scrape of metal. He yelled triumphantly, descending quickly down the ladder. "There's a basement down here!"

  I followed him through the trapdoor and down the ladder.

  "Be careful, Hallie." Chief Woods called after me.

  "I will," I replied. “Somebody call for an ambulance. If Woody's down here, he could be in bad shape.

  I could hear Andy moving just ahead of me. By the time I entered the basement, Andy had found a light switch.

  I looked around. It was damp and dirty with a nasty chemical smell permeating the space. Along one wall was a table with glass beakers, metal implements, and a Bunsen burner. Stacks of cans and bottles of chemicals, and an electric oven sat nearby. A smaller table held scales, metal trays, and more baggies.

  Nearby, Woody lay in a corner, handcuffs on his wrists and wire wrapped around his ankles. He'd been beaten and was filthy, but he was breathing.

  I straightened his broken glasses and brushed his hair over his forehead. "Woody, can you hear me?" He stirred a little. "Woody, help’s coming to get you out of here. Poppy sent me to find you."


  Woody's eyelids fluttered open. "Hallie?" He groaned.

  "Yep," I said. "It's me."

  "Where’s Poppy?" Woody asked. "I want to go home to her, please."

  “You bet!” I said.

  FOURTEEN

  The paramedics arrived within minutes. They got Woody out of the basement and onto a stretcher. When Poppy saw someone being wheeled out of the body shop, Rayna couldn’t hold her back. In a flash, she was at Woody’s side.

  She saw his bruised and bloody face and screeched in outrage. “That animal! How dare he hurt you?” Tears flowing from her eyes, she buried her face in Woody’s neck for a moment. Then she stood up straight, caressing his hair. “Is he going to be ok?” she asked.

  “She’s his wife,” I told the paramedics.

  “We think he’s going to be fine, ma’am. We’re taking him to Herville Medical Center to be examined by a physician.”

  Poppy nodded and wiped her face on the back of her hand. She followed alongside the stretcher as Woody was loaded into the Ambulance. I promised to take her in my car to the E.R., and she turned to follow me to the Denali.

  Unfortunately, the police decided to transfer Marv Deeter to a different vehicle at the same moment. Poppy saw him and her face turned red, her eyes bugging out of her head. And she’s little, but she’s fast.

  Before any of the police knew what was happening, she had a handcuffed Deeter on the ground. Her little fists rained on his face as he screamed for help. Poppy drew blood before Andy could pull her off a sniveling Deeter.

  “I hope you rot in prison!” Poppy screamed and walked away.

  We got into my car and left for the hospital. I patted her arm and smiled. Poppy was like her grandfather, a warrior for those she loved.

  Poppy called her parents on our way to the hospital. They showed up minutes after we did, and Poppy flew into their arms. “How’s Woody?” Laura asked me, still hugging her daughter.

  “He’s being examined now, but I think he’ll be ok,” I answered.

  An hour later, my prediction proved accurate when a doctor told us he was keeping Woody in the hospital for a few days. He suffered three broken ribs, a broken nose, and was dehydrated. But he assured us, Woody would make a full recovery.