“It must have been so traumatic.” As an afterthought Michelle added, “And scary.”
“You have no idea.” She could hear the nerves in her strangled laugh. “I don’t know how Mr. Lewis does this day after day. It has to be so depressing to see how people die; to point out where they are buried or left for the elements and animals to devour.”
Juan scooted off the tailgate and stuffed his phone into the front pocket of his shorts. “Enough talk about death. Let’s go get something to eat. Maybe that’ll help ease your headache.”
“You two go ahead. I’m going to gather my thoughts before I come in.”
Michelle took her hand and tugged. “We’re not leaving without you.” Stubborn to a fault, Michelle tugged a little harder.
“I need to be alone for a few minutes. I promise I’ll be along shortly.” She watched them amble to the house arm in arm. It was wonderful to have people who cared about her. Without their love and devotion she wouldn’t have survived what Bret did to her. But then Bret wasn’t completely out of the picture. Beth said there would be a trial. He was pleading not guilty, claiming she asked to be drugged. What if the jury believed him and not her? Her shyness would be a problem. Without a doubt Bret’s high dollar attorney would tear into her and she would have a difficult time not getting flustered.
“Hello.”
Lacy looked into Richard’s smiling face. So intent on her thoughts, she didn’t see him until he sat down on the tailgate next to her.
“You did great today.”
“It was horrible. How can you see the dead and not get depressed.”
“There are two ways to look at my abilities. When I give families closure, it is a gift.”
When he became quiet she asked, “And the second?”
“I do feel the deceased pain. I see everything that happens to them. It can be very upsetting.”
“Can we go back to the falls and find out where Hilda is buried?”
“You don’t need me to find out where Hilda is buried. Hilda wants you to find her body. The connection is with you not me, maybe because you are a blood relative. I don’t know why Grant called me in the first place.”
“Once when we went to the falls to find out what happened to Hilda, I fell in the pool of water at the base of the falls. The water was so cold I couldn’t move. Hilda pushed me to the surface. Grant refused to let me try again. He was hoping you could tell us where Hilda’s body is located.”
Richard took her arms and gave her a warm smile. “Where did you see her before you fell into the falls?”
“At the top of the falls. It is pure rock. She can’t possibly be buried in rock.”
Richard pursed his lips. “Darrell Talbert was a big man. A man of Russell Reynolds stature couldn’t have carried his body far unless he enlisted help from some of his field hands.”
Lacy replied, “Secrets have a tendency of destroying people’s lives. I’m sure Russell told no one he killed his own daughter and her lover. Deep down I feel he got rid of the bodies himself.”
Richard explained, “I think Hilda is buried near the falls. That is the only logical explanation of why she is at the top of the falls when she appears. Could be Russell threw Darrell into the river and his body was never found. A man like Russell would blame Darrell for all his problems. He loved Hilda. He would have buried her.” The breeze blew his thick hair and he raked it away from his face. She liked him. He was down to earth and compassionate.
“Don’t tell Grant I asked you to go back to the falls with me. A lot is going on in my life right now and I don’t want him worrying.
“Yes, I know.”
“Let me guess. You saw what happened to me when you took my hand and pulled me to my feet?”
“No, I read about it in the papers.”
Lacy couldn’t help but giggle. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him but she saw Grant standing on the porch glaring at Richard. Suddenly, Richard turned and looked at Grant as if he had eyes in the back of his head. “I guess we’d better go eat lunch before Grant does me bodily harm.”
“He means well. He is very protective.”
“And big.”
Lacy headed toward Grant. Richard grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him. His voice was harsh. “Do not go to the falls alone. While Hilda means you no harm, you could still be in danger. Death and tragedy haunt the beautiful landscape.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his card. “Call me if you need to talk to someone.”
Lacy took the card and watched him hurry across the yard. He walked right by Grant without speaking and disappeared in the house.
Lacy propped against the tailgate and lifted her face to the sun. The image of Russell Reynolds shooting his own daughter slipped into her mind. How did he survive the rest of his life with something so horrible weighing on his conscience? Every night he sat down to dinner with his wife and never said a word. He let everyone believe Hilda had been kidnapped by Darrell. It had to have tormented him. He went to his deathbed with the tragic secret.
Chapter Fifteen
Lacy filled the Boer goats’ feed trough and watched them push and shove to get the best spot. Their biggest male’s long, hanging ears twitched as he led the others. He was white with a dark brown head. Raising his Roman nose high, he sniffed the air smelling what he was having for dinner.
The greedy sounds of supper time filled the barnyard. Feeding time was special for Lacy because all the animals came together in their designated areas. Goats behind the barn, sheep beside the goats, horses in the stalls. Jack decided he would eat out of Midnight’s trough. Midnight stomped his hooves and snorted. Sometimes Jack thought he was the most important animal on the farm. It was as if he knew he was there to protect the other animals from coyotes.
Juan pushed the little gray donkey away. “Go eat in your own trough, Jack. You don’t want to tangle with Midnight.” Jack shook his head in anger and trotted past Midnight. As Juan ordered, he entered the stall he shared with Pepper and began to much on his sweet feed in his trough.
Michelle laid her hand on her stomach. “That was the best meal I think I’ve ever eaten. Your mother is a great cook. I can barely move I ate so much.”
Juan beamed with pride. “Yes, she is.” Juan loved his mother. After his father was killed in a home invasion, he became the man of the house. He was very protective of Maria.
Michelle’s phone rang causing Midnight to flinch. He stomped his mighty hooves before he calmed and went back to eating his sweet feed. “Yes, she is right here.”
A funny look on her face, Michelle handed Lacy her phone. “Who is it?”
“Dylan.”
Lacy pressed her lips together and stared at the phone in Michelle’s hand. Just hearing Dylan’s name had her heart racing. Michelle’s sultry southern accent made it sound even more sexy and rough. His name suited him. “What does he want?”
Michelle whispered, “How the hell should I know?” She pushed the phone at Lacy. “Talk to him.”
More than a little shaken, Lacy took the phone and pressed it against her ear. “Hello.”
“I need to see you. Can you meet me?”
Juan and Michelle both stood looking at her as if she had pie on her face. Lacy opened the stall gate and walked around the barn out of the reach of curious ears. “Lacy, are you there?”
When she felt confident no one could hear their conversation, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. “I’m here. Why are you calling me on Michelle’s phone?”
“Because you wouldn’t answer yours.” Lacy never carried her phone when she was on the farm. She had left it in her bedroom.
Nervous, she wrapped a curl around her finger. “Do you have some news about Bret?”
“I’m off the case, Lacy. Someone else is handling the investigation.” He paused. “It has nothing to do with Bret.”
“What do you want?”
“Can you meet me?”
“No, I pr
omised Nina and Beth I’d spend the night. They’d be suspicious if I left.”
“How about tomorrow?” Lacy took a moment to think. “Are you still there?”
“Yes.” She rubbed her forehead curious as to why he wanted to meet with her. “Everyone will go to church early in the morning. Come here to the farm.”
“What time?”
“Ten o’clock.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.” He didn’t say goodbye but just ended the call. Lacy placed Michelle’s phone against her chest. If it wasn’t about Bret, she couldn’t understand why he wanted to meet with her. They had pretty much said their goodbyes the last time she saw him on campus. The not knowing would drive her crazy.
****
Dylan ended his call to Lacy. He changed his phone to vibrate and put it back in the cover strapped to his belt. “How do you think Josh is going to react when he discovers you have a thing for his sister-in-law?”
Dylan glared at Stan Jacobs sitting behind the wheel. “I imagine he’ll beat the shit out of me.”
Stan’s lips twitched with a smile. “She’s worth getting killed for.”
“I hope so.”
“I wouldn’t want to be you even for a million dollars right now.”
“I’m not too keen on being me at the moment either.” Sitting across the street from Bret Robertson’s family home, Dylan looked through the binoculars and watched the maid get in her car and drive out the side entrance of the house.
Even though he told Lacy he was off the case, he was still putting in every spare minute to find the evidence he needed to put Robertson away for life. Attempted rape was not good enough. He wanted to find evidence he had murdered Tiffany Swift. He had already gone through his room at the frat house. Not one piece of evidence was found connecting him to taking Lacy’s cameo or Miss Swift’s ring her uncle said she was wearing the night she was murdered.
Dylan opened the door of Stan’s family station wagon intending to get out. A toy squeaked under his foot. He picked up the toy and threw it in the back seat with various other toys. Two tough and rugged FBI men riding around in a vehicle with two car seats in the back caused him to shake his head and laugh. He felt it would be less conspicuous than his Mustang or Cadillac. He had left his Mustang with Molly, Stan’s wife, in case she needed to go somewhere. The thought of her piling all the kids inside for a trip to the market caused him to cringe. All four ate like starving hyenas. Before he left they were stained orange from eating cheese doodles. Molly had to get him a wet rag to wipe the orange off his shirt because he had to give each one a piggyback ride the moment he stepped into their house.
Dylan closed the door and leaned in the open window. “Let me know if anyone comes home.”
“No problem.”
For the past two days he and Stan had been staking out Bret Robertson’s family home to get some idea of their schedule. The maid left at seven o’clock on the dot every night. Thirty minutes earlier Robertson’s dad and mom along with his two sisters and brother piled into the car and left the house. The house should be empty.
Peering over his shoulder, Dylan didn’t see anyone so he crossed the street and walked up the sidewalk as if he had a reason to be there. He had been able to obtain a layout of the alarm system and it would be difficult to get inside without setting it off. He walked around back and took his time observing the house and landscape.
As she had for the past week, Lacy intruded into his thoughts. In fact she had been all he could think about for the past week. She was fresh, clean, and sweet. Why she would be interested in a life with him was beyond anything he could comprehend, but he had to at least ask if they had a chance to be together.
In his mind he pictured a small, white house with black shutters and a white picket fence. Laughter of children could be heard in the front yard as they played and chased each other. Two boys and a little girl with blond hair. Funny he never thought of settling down in the past. But then why would he when the women he had relationships with were just out to have a good time. None of them had been the settling down kind. He shook his head to get the image of Lacy out of his head. He had a job to do and he didn’t need any distractions.
A tall oak grew right next to the house. A low limb was just out of his reach. Dylan fished into his pocket for his gloves. After slipping them over his hands, he jumped and caught the limb swinging himself to a sitting position on the limb. He stood to his full height and caught the next limb. He climbed mid way up the oak and jumped to the roof of the second floor.
He scampered across the roof and crawled over the railing to a narrow balcony. The double glass door was unlocked. He pushed it open and stepped into the bedroom. On the wall next to him the green light turned red on the alarm controls. He didn’t have much time before the alarm would sound and the police would be dispatched. He jerked off the cover, took out his knife and cut the red wire. He let out the breath he had been holding when the power was cut. If anyone at the bureau discovered he had gone to Robertson’s house, he would lose his job. Not even Tate would be able to save him.
A woman’s robe lay on the four-poster bed so he assumed it was Robertson’s parents’ bedroom. Talk about fancy. The furniture alone probably cost more money than he made in a year. Top of the line for the Robertson family. The house screamed money outside and inside.
He took his time to listen before he stepped into the hall. The house was quiet. Heart pounding, he inched his way opening doors and peering into rooms as he neared the end of the hall. Robertson’s room wasn’t in that wing of the house. He continued his search until he found himself in the west wing of the mansion. He opened the first door to find lots of dolls and frills. It had to be one of Bret’s sisters’ bedrooms.
He closed the door and moved to the next door. He smiled when he pushed the door open. Duke blue was everywhere. All over the walls, the bedspread, the curtains. Basketball trophies lined the shelves along with pictures of Robertson dressed in his high school uniform. It was a wonder they didn’t collapse from all the weight. It had to be Bret Robertson’s bedroom. The room was four times bigger than the room Dylan had shared with three other boys in the group home he had been placed when his mother abandoned him to fend for himself on the streets of Raleigh. By the time Tate rescued him, he was going down a path of self destruction. Drugs, sex, and violence had almost been his downfall. In all his twelve years he had never had anyone who cared about what happened to him until Tate arrested him for selling drugs.
Dylan began opening drawers and rummaging through them. Nothing but clothes. He dumped the clothes and looked under the drawers to make sure nothing was taped to the bottom. Robertson was smart. He would make sure the things he had stolen would not be found by someone cleaning the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed in the midst of all the drawers and clothes and peered around the room. Nothing caught his attention.
He painstakingly folded all the clothes back into the drawers as he had found them and put them back in place. He meandered into the bathroom and opened the cabinet. Cans of shaving cream and lotions packed the shelves. “So that’s how you keep your boyish good looks, Robertson. You smear this stuff all over your pretty face at night.”
Dylan opened one of the jars and sniffed. “Smells pretty too.” The only other item in the cabinet was a shaving cream canister. One of his mother’s former lovers once kept his drugs in a shaving cream canister with a fake bottom. Excitement washed over him when he unscrewed the bottom and peered inside. Not only did it contain Lacy’s ivory cameo, but Tiffany Swift’s emerald ring which had been given to her by her parents for graduation from high school. It was a one-of-a-kind designed just for her. His mouth dropped open when he found five other pieces of jewelry. How many women had Robertson drugged and raped?
He looked at himself in the mirror and whispered, “Here is your evidence. Now how are you going to get this evidence to the authorities without letting them know you broke into Robertson’s house to find it?” He wo
uld talk to Josh. Maybe he could get a judge to issue a search warrant.
Dylan jumped when he felt his phone vibrate. He removed it from its case on his belt and lifted it to his ear. “Get out now. Someone just pulled up in front of the house.”
With deft fingers, he placed his phone back in its case and then replaced the fake bottom with the stolen jewelry. One last look around to make sure everything was as he found it, he ran down the hall but he wasn’t quick enough. He could hear footsteps on the stairs leading to the second floor. He ducked back into Robertson’s bedroom and looked for a place to hide. None of the furniture was big enough to hide behind and the bed was a pedestal. He made a mad dash for the bathroom, climbed into the shower, and closed the frosted glass door. With his back against the far wall, he hoped no one could see him if they came into the room.
From his hiding place, he watched someone moving around in the bathroom. He couldn’t make out their identity because they were a blur through the frosted glass. The person opened the cabinet and took something out. It seemed they knew exactly what they were looking for because Dylan heard the cabinet door close and their retreating footsteps. As quick as he came, he was gone.
Dylan emerged from the shower and then the bathroom in time to see the bedroom door closing behind the person. He returned to the bathroom and opened the cabinet. Just as he suspected the shaving cream canister with the jewelry was missing. The person had taken it.
Dylan bolted to the north wing and entered Robertson’s parents’ bedroom. He took out his knife and spliced the red wires and wrapped the ends together before placing the cover back in place. Being careful not to make a sound, he closed the bedroom door behind him leading to the balcony. Instead of taking the time to climb down the tree, he scooted on his butt to the edge and hung from the roof, then dropped to the ground below. Using the bushes and shrubs for concealment, he made his way back to the street. When he didn’t see anyone on the street, he slowly walked across the street and got into Stan’s car. Stan took off at a slow speed so he wouldn’t draw attention to the car.
Secrets of the Falls (Twelve Oaks Farm Book 3) Page 19