“What did you threaten him with?”
“I told him I’d kill everyone in his family.”
“I can’t imagine he’d have believed you had that kind of power.”
“Oh, he believed it.” He laughed again. “Your father made certain of that.”
“What does my father have to do with this?”
“He made me look like the most powerful man in the world.” He leaned down and whispered, “He died two days later.”
Lorna felt as if the wind had been knocked from her lungs.
“He died of a heart attack.”
“Yeah. Pretty good timing, wouldn’t you say?” Mike pushed her through the barn door and took the gun from his pocket. “Unfortunately, I can’t rely on lightning striking again, so I’m going to have to make my own luck.”
“You killed Jason.”
“Stupid-shit Jason, yeah, I killed him.” He shook his head. “Who would have thought he’d be up at that hour of the morning? And with his mother, no less? Damned bad luck on his part, looking out the window when he did.”
“He saw you with someone.”
“Unfortunately, yes, he did.” Mike spoke calmly, as if they were discussing the weather. “He came running out of that house, yelling at me, and what the hell else could I do? I dropped what I was carrying and let him chase me into the field, away from the house. I didn’t need a witness.”
“He saw you with one of your victims.”
“Well, the sky didn’t open and drop them into the woods, Lorna. They had to get there somehow.” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I was carrying someone. And yes, he was already dead when Jason came out the back of the house. He saw me, saw what I had from the window, and came running outside yelling something about his sister. I guess he figured I’d killed his sister, too.”
“Did you?”
“No. Oh, I would have, I wanted to. She saw me the night she disappeared. She was running across the field and we all but smacked into each other. How ’bout those Eagan kids, eh? Always around at the wrong time.” He shook his head. “I grabbed at her-had her, too, but she managed to get away from me and she ran like hell.”
“Ran where?”
“Beats the shit out of me. Don’t think I didn’t try to find her. Searched for hours, but it was as if the earth opened up and swallowed her whole. I couldn’t track her, and the next thing I knew, she’d officially disappeared. I didn’t have a decent night’s sleep, I can tell you that, until I realized she wasn’t coming back.”
“Then where did she go?” Lorna’s brows knit together. “If you didn’t kill her, where has she been all these years?”
“I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care. All I know is that the gods were smiling on me that night, because wherever she went, she obviously didn’t tell anyone what she saw.”
“You really think the gods had anything to do with that?”
He gestured at her with the gun. “Walk. Straight back.”
He was leading her to the door to the wine cellar.
“I don’t understand how you got those boys out here. I mean, you couldn’t very well pick them up on your bike and ride to the woods with a body over the handlebars.”
“Very funny.” He looked amused. “Actually, I used my mother’s car. She’d be sound asleep every night by nine, I’d be out of the house and cruising down the road by ten.”
“And Fritz didn’t notice? He didn’t care that you were taking the car and driving around without a license?”
“He was my brother, why would he tell? Besides, everyone around here drove before they had a license. It’s farm country. Everyone does it. The local cops would stop me once in a while, slap me on the wrist, and that would be that. Outside of town, I was never stopped. I’ve always been a good driver, never gave them a reason to pull me over. Didn’t speed, stopped at the stop signs, never jumped a light.” He grinned. “My driving record is perfect.”
“Where did Fritz think you were going, all those nights?”
“I always told him I had a hot date. I was pretty popular with the girls, maybe you remember.” He smirked.
Her face flushed, recalling her own crush on him, then realized the absurdity. He’s holding a gun on me, he’s going to kill me, and I’m embarrassed to remember that I used to have a crush on him.
“You would drive to the Purple Pheasant to pick up your victims.”
“It was the perfect feeding ground. They never checked ID. Actually, they welcomed the young boys. The younger the better.”
“The owner. You killed him, too.”
Mike nodded thoughtfully. “He was one sharp dude. He knew the guys who’d disappeared had all been in his club. It took him awhile, but eventually he realized he’d seen them all with me. If I’d been a little older, maybe I’d have been a little smarter. As it was, hey, I was fourteen, fifteen, sixteen years old. I didn’t hunt often, but when I did, I hunted well.”
Lorna fought the urge to throw up.
He stopped at the door to the wine cellar.
“Open it. And turn the light on.”
She did as she was told.
“Down the steps,” he commanded.
She started taking them slowly, trying to think of how to distract him. There was only one way in or out, and that was by the steps they now descended. She eyed the barrels that lined the room and wondered if it would be possible to use them offensively. She didn’t think she could move quickly enough to roll them before he got off a shot.
Okay, Uncle Will, if you’re really still around, now would be a good time to show yourself.
“Keep moving. Back there, through that doorway.”
He pointed to the tasting room.
She might have a chance after all.
“Where’s the light switch?” He felt inside the doorway, first on the left side, then the right.
“It’s on the opposite end of the room,” she told him. “All the way back.”
“Go turn it on.”
“Sure.” She stepped into the windowless room and tried to remember where she’d left the candles. She dropped to her knees and crouched behind one of the two upholstered chairs, and held her breath, and let the darkness swallow her whole.
“Hey, Lorna,” Mike called from the doorway, and she heard him start to follow her into the room. “Turn on the lights.”
She knelt still as a stone. If he wanted her, he was going to have to find her in the dark. She had the advantage of knowing where the furniture was. Her only chance was to circle around him, without him seeing her, and make it to the door. If she could get that far, she’d slip outside the room and bolt the door behind her, locking him inside.
If she could get as far as the door.
“Damn you.” He kicked at something on the floor and it bounced off the wall. “Damn you…”
In the dark, his breathing was erratic with rage and seemed to come from all sides at once. The room wasn’t large enough for her to make a clean break for the door. The most she could hope for was to draw him farther in. She moved stealthily to the left, knowing that even as her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, so did his.
“Honest to God, Lorna, I was going to make this easy for you. Shit!” He cursed loudly as he tripped over a chair. “Damn you! I’d planned one clean shot to the head. But now, I swear, when I get my hands on you, you’re going to beg me for that one bullet.”
A little farther to the left. Inch by inch, trying to stay within the shadow of the chairs.
“Bitch.”
He shot the gun into the room and the sound momentarily paralyzed her. He fired twice more and she began to shake all over. She held both hands over her mouth to keep from crying out. She was too frightened to move now-even if she could make it to the door, her legs wouldn’t support her to take her there.
It occurred to her for the first time that she wasn’t going to get out of the cellar alive.
Another shot, this one closer.
“I’ve got plenty more, Lo
rna. I can stand here and shoot at you all day.”
“Gonna be hard to do that with a bullet in your brain.” T.J.’s voice from the doorway was steady, but there was no mistaking the intent.
“Well, hey, Mr. PI. Nice of you to stop by.”
“Drop the gun, Mike. Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”
Mike responded with a shot to the doorway.
“Sooner or later, you’re going to run out. I won’t,” T.J. told him calmly.
“You forget, PI,” Mike’s breath was ragged, “I’ve got something you want in here.”
“If you had her, you’d have killed her already. So unless you were talking to a corpse a few seconds ago, I’d say you don’t have her.”
“She’s in here, I’m in here. You’re out there.” Mike laughed. “She moves, she’s a dead woman. How do you figure you’re going to get her out?”
“I shoot you. She walks past your body on the way to the door.”
“You can’t shoot what you can’t see.”
A shot rang out and Mike shrieked. His gun hit the floor. Lorna screamed and backed into the wall, falling off her feet. T.J. came into the room and stepped over the moaning man and picked up the gun.
“Lorna?” T.J. said softly. “Are you all right?”
“I’m over here.” She struggled to get to her feet and he was there, reaching down to help her.
His arms closed around her and tightened. “Are you all right?” he repeated.
She nodded shakily.
“How could you see him? How did you know where to shoot?” she asked as he led her out of the dark room and into the light.
“Night goggles.” He slipped them off over his head with one hand. “A favorite of PIs everywhere.”
“I thought you told Mitch you got rid of all your toys.”
“Almost all.”
“Is he going to die?”
“No. But he won’t be writing any letters home for a while.” He handed her his cell phone. “Go outside and call Mitch. There’s no signal down here. I tried calling him when I realized you were in the wine cellar, but I couldn’t get a signal.”
She stumbled and he caught her.
“Maybe you’d better sit down for a minute.” He turned a barrel on its side and guided her to it, but she shook her head.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. It was just so… I was so…”
She couldn’t find the words.
“Hey, I’ve been shot at a time or two myself. It’s not fun. Maybe one of the scariest things that can happen, and if you’re not used to being around guns, and you’ve never been shot at before, it’s a pretty scary experience.”
“It was so loud.” She covered her ears, remembering. “I swear, I’m usually not very wimpy.”
“It is loud, and when you’re that close to it, yeah, it’s real tough on the ears.” He brushed the hair back from her face. “I don’t think you’re wimpy at all. I think you were damned smart to lure him in there. You gave yourself a fighting chance. If you hadn’t done that, you’d be dead right now.”
“If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I would be dead right now. I didn’t think I was going to get out of there alive.”
“You did just fine.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks, then leaned over and kissed her. “You did just fine.”
She nodded. “I’ll call Mitch. You keep an eye on Mike.”
Lorna made it to the steps and held on to the railing while she climbed up to the barn. She walked across the wooden floor and out through the door and resisted the urge to pinch herself. Five minutes ago, she’d been certain that her life was going to end. She’d never faced that kind of challenge, never known that kind of fear. Yet she’d still managed to outsmart Mike, long enough for help to arrive.
All in all, it could have been worse.
She was alive, the bad guy lay bleeding on the tasting room floor, and the cool guy had not only saved her, but he’d kissed her as well. She leaned back against the barn door and dialed Mitch’s number.
Yeah, she thought as she listened to the phone ring, all in all, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.
22
“Lorna, how are you feeling?” Regan rushed up the front steps and dropped her bag on the porch. “Mitch told me what happened. I tried calling your cell and the house phone, but you didn’t pick up.”
“I’m fine, thanks. It took a few hours for the ringing in my ears to stop, but all’s well now.” Lorna got up from the chair where she’d been rocking, passing the time quietly while she waited for T.J. and Mitch to come back with the beer and Chesapeake crabs they’d set out for almost an hour ago.
“God, I turn my back on you for five days and you damn near get yourself killed.”
“But I didn’t get killed. T.J. arrived, like the posse, to save the day.” She smiled and added, “My hero.”
“Not bad, as heroes go.” Regan took the rocker next to Lorna’s.
“Ummm. Not bad at all. Thanks for the referral. Who’d have thought, the day I called you, that it would lead to all this?”
“All what?” Regan narrowed her eyes. “Lead to what? Are you holding back on me? Is something going on between you and the PI?”
Before Lorna could answer, the Crossfire pulled into the drive and stopped on a dime. Mitch and T.J. got out, laden with several bags.
“I hope you’re both very hungry,” T.J. called, “because we have enough crabs here to feed an army.”
“Did you catch them yourselves?” Lorna stood at the top of the steps. “You’ve been gone for an hour. The Crab Shack is just two miles down the road.”
“Well, we stopped for the beer first. Then we decided to have the crabs cooked for us, instead of cooking them here. Then we realized we didn’t have enough beer, so we had to go back to the state store.” T.J. grinned at Lorna. “You see how this could take some time.”
“I do.” Lorna laughed. “Bring it all into the kitchen and we’ll get some plates.”
“Plates?” Regan appeared horrified. “You don’t use plates to eat Maryland crabs. You cover the table with newspaper, then paper towels, then you put the crabs right on the table.”
“Don’t you get newsprint on the crabs?” Lorna asked.
“Not if you use paper towels. Then, when you’re finished, you wrap up the paper, crab debris and all, and toss everything into the trash can. Preferably one with a tight lid, so the raccoons don’t litter your yard with shells.”
“Hey, you live on the Bay, I have to think you know what you’re talking about. But I can go you one better.” Mitch took a roll of paper from one of the bags. “Unprinted paper. What do you think of that, eh?”
“Where’d you find that?” Regan went down the steps to inspect the roll.
“The guy at the crab place sells it.” Mitch looked pleased with himself.
“Definitely much better than newspaper,” Regan agreed. “That’s why you’re a special agent with the FBI, right? ’Cause you’re so smart?”
“You betcha.” Mitch took her by the arm. “Now, let’s go in and eat. The smell of those crabs had me gnawing on my hand all the way down Callen Road.”
The foursome crowded into the kitchen. Lorna spread the paper thickly on the top of the table, and T.J. dumped the crabs in the middle. Mitch opened four bottles of beer and set one in front of each of the chairs. Lorna grabbed a handful of paper napkins and passed them around.
“Looks like we’re all set,” Lorna said.
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Regan said. “To friendship.”
“There’s something we can all drink to.”
They all did.
Mitch turned to T.J. “So, now that your last big case has been solved, what say we talk a little more about getting your name back on the government’s payroll?”
“Sorry, pal. I already have plans.”
“What plans?” Mitch grabbed a crab and broke it open.
“I’m thinking about going into busine
ss for myself.”
“I thought you’d decided you didn’t want to be a PI anymore.”
“Different business.” T.J. separated meat from cartilage and began to eat.
“What kind of business?” Mitch frowned.
“Well, I think I want to try my hand at a winery,” T.J. told him.
“You’re kidding, right?” Mitch laughed.
“Dead serious.” T.J. nodded and turned to Lorna. “The place is still for sale, right?”
He’d caught her completely off guard and she stammered. “Ah… well, yeah. I suppose so. Did you want the whole farm?”
“I was thinking just the vineyard.”
“We’d have to see if it could be subdivided.” She heard herself think out loud. “And the wine cellar… did you want the wine cellar?”
“What’s a winery without a wine cellar?” he replied.
“It’s under the barn.” Lorna frowned. “The barn should stay with the house.”
“We’ll see what we can work out.”
“What do you know about wine, except that you like to drink it?” Mitch asked.
“Actually, I know quite a bit,” T.J. told him.
“Since when?”
“Since I spent the weekend talking to several growers in the area. I spent hours before and after that reading up on the subject on the Internet.” He turned to Lorna. “This is a good site, and you’ve already got the trellises set up. There are at least seven really good vineyards in the area, and several wineries. I sampled the products and was pretty impressed with what they produce. You already have the cellar, you have some barrels. It’s a start.”
“How do you know what kind of grapes to grow? What kind of wine to make?” Mitch persisted.
“Actually, the classic white wine grapes do very well here. And for the first few years, I’ll grow and sell the grapes to some of the local wineries. Then, when I feel I’m ready, I’ll move on to the next phase of making my own wine.”
“You really are serious,” Lorna said.
T.J. nodded. “Very serious. So if you’re selling-look no further for your buyer. Of course, I’ll probably need to scout up a little capital.”
Hard Truth Page 24