“No!” Cynthia threw her arms around Greg and pressed her face into his chest. She was sobbing uncontrollably.
“We think it might be her mother. Could you let us see?” said Greg.
Cynthia cried harder.
One of the paramedics uncovered the face.
“It’s not her, Sweetie,” said Greg.
“What? Are you sure?” She turned around. “Oh, thank God.”
A woman had just broken through the crowd and run to the body.
“Oh, Mom!” She knelt down beside the bloody corpse and began to cry.
Greg and Cynthia turned and walked away.
“But where is she?” said Cynthia.
27 - CLINICAL TRIALS
Carnie drove the van into the barn and killed the engine. She and Jake had successfully abducted four women for her fake clinical trial.
“What are you going to do to us?” said one of the women.
“I’m checking you into Hideaway Hospital,” said Carnie.
“I don’t need to go to the hospital. I want to go home,” said another woman.
“I need volunteers for my clinical trial,” said Carnie.
“So, we’re gonna be the white mice in your laboratory?” a woman said.
“Something like that. Now, let’s go,” said Carnie.
Jake got out, opened the sliding door and motioned for the women to exit the van. He held the gun on them as they stepped out. His hand was getting so shaky it seemed as though it might fire accidentally at any second.
“Okay, let’s get your names and ages,” said Carnie.
“Betsy Holsom. 72.” She was slightly stocky, and appeared to be quite strong and healthy.” She glared at Carnie as though she might try to grab her at any moment and wrestle her to the ground.
“My name is Ellen Pinkly, and I’m 88.” Ellen was skinny and frail. Her skin was whiter than baby powder.
“Marcia Cleggmore. 79.” Marcia was nearly six feet tall, and stood erect and proud.
“Cleggmore, huh? said Carnie. “Aren’t the Cleggmores that wealthy family? Yeah. Y’all have that fancy clothing store in Coreyville, right?”
“That is correct.”
“Yeah. What’s the name of that store?”
“Cleggmore’s.”
“Oh, right. Of course.” said Carnie with a smart-aleck grin.
Carnie looked at the last woman. “And finally, we have?”
“Beverly Sonora.”
“Age?”
“67.”
“67? Why you’re just a kid. Looks like I messed up, Jake. This one’s too young.”
“Then why don’t you just let me go,” said Beverly.
“Nope. Can’t do that. You’ll just have to act older.”
“Act older for who?” said Beverly.
“For Dr. Mobley.”
“What? I can’t believe Elmo is involved in this,” said Marcia.
“Dr. Mobley is trying to develop the best possible medication for his mother, who has Alzheimer’s. So, we’re going to pretend to have a clinical trial using the various concoctions he comes up with. The big difference in our clinical trial is that we’ll have only four participants and that you’ll be residents in the clinic for the entire trial. And I know what you’re going to say. None of you have Alzheimer’s.”
“Actually, I think I might,” said Ellen.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You will fool Dr. Mobley by pretending to have the disease. And then one of you will be miraculously cured.”
“This is crazy,” said Betsy.
“Yes, it is,” said Carnie with an evil grin. “But you will do as I say…or you will surely die. Follow me.”
Carnie led them to the tool shed. Jake followed up the rear with the gun. Carnie turned the knob and kicked the door a couple of times to open it. She stepped in and walked across the dirt floor to the other door.
She opened the door and said, “Follow me. And watch your step.” She walked through the door and down the stairs. “Come on—we haven’t got all night.”
As Betsy took the first step down, she thought about slamming the door behind her, jumping down on Carnie, and snapping her neck like a twig. Then the other women could take care of Jake. He was so nervous he might drop the gun. But then she looked back and saw Ellen already stepping down behind her.
Ellen was working on a plot of her own. What would happen if she fainted or fell down a couple of stairs? she wondered. She might end up breaking an arm or a leg. Then what would they do with her? Would they take her to a real hospital? Or would they shoot her like a lame horse in an old western? Maybe she needed a better plan.
Marcia looked back at Jake and whispered, “Young man, you don’t have to go along with that crazy woman. Why don’t you release us before you get yourself into more trouble?”
“Sorry,” said Jake. “I’m already in it up to my eyeballs. Didn’t you see her stab that woman back there in the parking lot.”
“But you haven’t killed anybody, have you? I’m a very good judge of character, and I’m quite certain that you’re not capable of murder.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Jake. “Now, hurry up and get down those stairs before I shoot you in the butt, Old Lady.”
“Mercy!” said Marcia as she turned to go down. She was more offended by his rudeness than his talk of shooting her.
Beverly thought it best to keep her mouth shut. What must Cynthia and Greg be thinking right now? Surely they had gone to Wal-Mart looking for her. She felt as much concern for her daughter as for herself. Cynthia would be worried sick.
Carnie led the group through the curvy wooden corridor, which seemed to lead to a dead end. But then they began to see light in the distance, growing brighter as they got closer.
They walked into the large room and looked around.
“Welcome to Hideaway Hospital,” said Carnie with pride.
It was a four-bed ward, like one you might see in a real hospital. Each bed had a nightstand, but they were missing one standard item: a telephone. There was a couch on the far wall and a table in the corner stacked with various medical supplies and linens.
Carnie picked up a stack of gowns and threw one to each of the women. “Change into these.”
“Is there a dressing room?” said Ellen.
“Yeah,” said Carnie. “You’re standing in it.”
All four women looked at Jake.
“Give me the gun,” Carnie said to Jake. “Now turn around while these ladies change.”
Jake turned around, but the women didn’t move.
“Hurry up!” said Carnie.
Sensing they were in more danger than before, now that Carnie was holding the gun, they quickly selected their beds and began to take off their clothes and lay them on their beds.
“Now fold your clothes and put them on the shelf under your nightstand and get in your bed,” said Carnie.
“Jake, grab that bag and start handcuffing them,” said Carnie.
“Is that really necessary? What if there’s a fire?” said Marcia.
“Then you’re toast,” said Carnie.
Jake picked up the bag, walked over to Carnie and talked softly to her with his back to the women. “Do we really need to handcuff them? They’re not going anywhere.”
“Not as long as somebody’s holding a gun on them. But how about at 3:00 AM when you fall asleep?”
Jake walked over to Betsy’s bed, set the bag down on her nightstand and pulled out a set of handcuffs. He cuffed her right wrist to the stainless steel bedrail and then went to Ellen’s bed.
“Jake? Both hands,” said Carnie.
“Ah, come on!” said Betsy.
“I think you’ll find that your stay here will be more enjoyable if you learn speak to me in the proper tone of voice,” said Carnie.
Jake had just handcuffed Betsy’s other wrist when Carnie walked over to her bed and slapped her hard in the face.
It gave Betsy such an adrenali
n rush, she tried yank the bed rails free and slam them together like crash cymbals against the sides of Carnie’s head. But the only thing she accomplished was to bruise her wrists.
While Jake handcuffed the other women, Carnie walked to the table that had medical supplies sitting on top of it. She picked up four syringes and four vials. She walked to Betsy’s bed and prepared to give her an injection.
As Carnie prepped Betsy’s arm for the shot, Betsy said, “What is that?”
“Just something to help you rest,” said Carnie. “It won’t hurt you.”
“How do you know? Are you a doctor?”
“No. But I’m a Registered Nurse. Or at least I used to be,” said Carnie.
“I need to pee before you put me to sleep,” said Ellen.
“No, you don’t,” said Carnie. “I’m going to catheterize you.”
Jake winced. He definitely wouldn’t be helping with that.
**********
Elmo and Macy spoke softly so they wouldn’t wake up Mallie Mae in the back seat. They were about an hour from home.
“I can’t wait to tell Mom the good news,” said Elmo.
“Hey—you called her Mom,” said Macy.
“Yeah. I guess I’m already getting used to it,” said Elmo.
“You can’t wait to tell her what? About breaking up with Carsie…or about us?”
“Both. And I can’t remember the last time I was excited about sharing anything with her. She’s like the brat who pops your birthday balloons. She always finds a way to spoil your party. But this time I think it will be different. I really think she’ll be happy for me. For us.”
“I think so too.” Macy wanted to scream with delight.
“Just think about it, Macy—what it would be like to live in a house without tension. A house where we all love each other and we’re all happy.”
“It would be wonderful,” said Macy.
“Yes.” He smiled at her. “Wonderful.”
28 - DESPERATE SEARCH
Greg had looked down every isle in Wal-Mart, but could not find Beverly. Cynthia was waiting near her mother’s car in case she showed up out there.
Finally Greg went to customer service and asked that Beverly be paged. While he was waiting, he noticed a display of flashlights and decided to buy two large ones and some batteries.
There was no response from the page.
By the time he made it back to Beverly’s car, Cynthia was getting frantic. “Where could she be?”
“I don’t know.” He handed Cynthia a flashlight and then clicked his on and began to shine it in and around the car. Then he checked underneath.
“Oh. This is not good,” he said.
“What?”
“There’s a set a keys under here.”
“Mom’s keys?”
“I don’t know.” He stretched out on the pavement and reached under the car to retrieve the keys.
“Are these hers?” He held them up.
Cynthia reached down and took the keys and shined her flashlight on them.
“Yes, these are her keys. Greg, she must have been kidnapped.”
Greg stood up. “It kinda looks that way. But why would anyone kidnap her? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Cynthia walked over to one of the cops who were working the murder scene. Greg followed her.
“Sir, can you please help me? I think my mother has been kidnapped,” said Cynthia.
The cop yelled over his shoulder, “Captain, we’ve got another one over here.”
He turned back to Cynthia. “So, she came here by herself and her car’s still here, but you can’t find her?”
“That’s right,” said Cynthia.
“Was somebody else kidnapped too?” said Greg.
“Marcia Cleggmore,” said the cop.
Cynthia and Greg knew who that was. Everybody knew about the Cleggmores—the wealthiest family in town.
“And somebody else is missing too,” said the cop.
Is that what Beverly would be to the cops—just another somebody? Cynthia wondered.
The officer took down the information, and told Cynthia they would be on the lookout for her mother, but she would need to go down to the station and fill out a formal missing persons report as well.
Obviously, the cops would use every tool at their disposal to find Mrs. Cleggmore, Cynthia thought. After that, they might make an effort to find Beverly.
“Sorry, ma’am, but I’ve got to get back,” said the cop. He turned and walked away.
“Isn’t that the mayor?” said Greg.
“Yes,” said Cynthia. “And look—that’s Alexander Cleggmore talking to him. The only chance of them finding Mom is if she’s with Marcia Cleggmore.”
“Wait a second,” said Greg. “The woman who was murder was stabbed, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what they said.”
“Nancie Jo Gristel was stabbed to death.”
“Right…”
“What if it’s the same killer? It’s kind of similar.”
“Yeah. These are older women, like Nancie Jo,” said Cynthia.
“Remember that car I saw yesterday at the copy shop? The one with that bumper sticker I’d never seen before?”
“The one you thought might be the murderer’s car because of what Nancie Jo’s neighbor said? But there’s something wrong with that man. He probably didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“But what if he did? What if that was the murderer’s car?”
“Even if it was, how does that help us find Mom?”
“Maybe the killer paid with a credit card, or accidentally left something there, or threw something in the trash.”
“I don’t know…”
“Sweetie, right now we don’t have any clues. And they’re not doing anything to find her,” he said, nodding in the direction of the growing crowd of cops, city officials, and Cleggmores.
Cynthia saw Alexander Cleggmore waving his arms and yelling at the police chief.
“Okay, I guess it’s worth a shot,” said Cynthia. “But won’t the copy shop already be closed? It’s after 9:00.”
**********
Hadley and his brother were sitting on Horatio’s back porch staring across the moonlit yard. Occasionally, Horatio’s hunting dogs would start barking at something, and he would yell at them. The front and back doors were open. But the screened doors kept the mosquitoes out. The two had just enjoyed a delicious Catfish dinner prepared by Horatio’s wife, Alma. They could hear her in the kitchen washing the dishes.
“So, you having fun yet, Ben?” said Horatio.
Hadley’s family called him Ben. Only the Mobleys referred to him as Hadley, which was his last name. When they were kids, he and Horatio were known as the Hadley brothers. Or sometimes, the Hadley hucksters, because they tried to sell everything from pine cones to skeeter hawks to naïve little kids.
And this one here costs a dime because he’s so colorful. Just look at him. He’ll fly around you everywhere you go, eating all the mosquitoes that try to get you. Don’t you hate it when you’re scratching all night from mosquito bites? Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore when you have one of these pretty mosquito eaters.
“I’ll let you know when it starts being fun,” said Hadley with a sly grin.
“You ought to be fairly disappointed, I guess, since I out-fished you.”
“What are you talking about? I caught more fish than you did,” said Hadley.
“But my fish outweighed yours.”
“That don’t count, and you know it. We’ve never figured the weight. If we had, I would’ve beat you a lot more often.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. My fish have always been bigger.”
“You turkey. The only reason you like to take me fishing is so you can tell everybody you beat me,” said Hadley.
“Only when I beat you fair and square.”
Hadley sat up in his chair and glared at Horatio. “Fair and square?”
Alma walked to the back screened door and said, “What are y’all arguing about now?”
“Honey, tell Ben I’m right. My fish were bigger than his, weren’t they?”
“How about both of you little boys just shut up about it.”
Hadley and Horatio looked at each other. They broke out in laughter.
Alma walked back into the kitchen shaking her head.
“Hey, did you bring your shotgun?” said Horatio.
“Yeah. It’s in my trunk. I figured I’d better bring it along just in case.”
“Good. Let’s go get us some doves in the morning.”
“I’m ready, Brother. But wait a minute. First we gotta set some ground rules. Are we counting the number of birds or the total weight?” said Hadley.
“Okay, fine. We’ll go by the number.”
“Agreed.”
“You’re mighty competitive, ain’t you, Boy.” said Horatio.
“I’m competitive?”
They argued until Alma broke it up.
**********
“They’re closed,” said Cynthia.
“But there’s a light on. And I think I see somebody in there,” said Greg as they pulled up to Coreyville Copy Shop.
They got out of the car and walked to the door, and Greg knocked.
The man inside waved his arms and said, “Sorry—we’re closed.”
“It’s an emergency,” yelled Greg.
The man looked perturbed as he walked to the door. He unlocked it and opened it a few inches, and said, “So you think you have an emergency printing job?”
“Well, it could be a matter of life or death,” said Greg.
“Does this involve national security?” said the man, facetiously.
“We’re really sorry to bother, Sir,” said Cynthia. “But my mother has just been kidnapped, and we think the person who did it might have made some copies here, or used one of your computers.”
“When?”
“Friday, between noon and 1:00,” said Greg. “And it looks like the kidnapper killed a woman tonight, and I think it might be the same one who killed Nancie Jo Gristel.”
“Mrs. Gristel and my mother used to play canasta with a group of ladies every week when I was a kid,” said the man. “Come on in.”
Greg Tenorly Suspense Series Boxed Set Page 32