The telephone’s ring ripped through the air. Jane’s body reeled with the sound. She closed her eyes, lifted the receiver and managed a “hello.”
“Jane, this is Len.”
Like a gift, relief rolled through her.
“Celia suggested we pick you up and bring you over here to spend the evening.”
Jane smiled. Celia did seem to have a sixth sense. “I’ve been jumpy, Len. Telephone problems, I think. But the weather’s too bad to come out. I’ll be fine.”
“Just a minute, Jane.”
She heard a rustling sound and muffled voices. “Sorry. Celia’s bellowing from the bedroom. She won’t take no for an answer. Get ready and we’ll be there shortly. It’ll be more fun than sitting alone.”
Though she hated to ask them to go out in the winter storm, Jane longed for company. “Are you sure?”
He chuckled. “Positive. You know Celia. She won’t have it any other way.”
“Okay, I’ll be ready.”
When she hung up, relief settled over her. She grabbed the telephone to let Kyle know where she’d be and then gathered her coat and handbag and waited until Len’s car lights reflected through the window. Though the old adage “two’s company, three’s a crowd” marched through her thoughts, tonight “three” sounded wonderful.
Kyle relaxed after Jane called. He’d been out in the snowstorm most of the afternoon, and as he wrote up his reports, he knew now she’d be entertained until he could pick her up later on the way home.
He checked the time, deciding she’d be at Celia’s by now and dialed her cell phone, but it rang with no answer. Kyle frowned. Why had she turned it off?
Instead, he opened his wallet and pulled out Celia’s telephone number. She answered in two rings.
“Celia, this is Kyle. Can I talk to Jane?”
Dead silence weighted the phone line.
“Celia?” Kyle’s heart skipped a beat.
“Jane’s not here, Kyle.” Celia sounded confused. “I haven’t seen her since school today.”
Fear gripped him. Then what about the call…? “Jane called and said you and Len were picking her up.”
“Len? No. He and I had a terrible argument last night. I haven’t spoken to him.”
Kyle’s mind pulled and grasped at fragments of thought. “Are you sure? Jane said he’d called for you—”
“I haven’t talked to him today. Why would he call her and say such a…?” Panic rose in Celia’s voice. “Kyle, do you—?”
“Yes, that’s all I can think. I’ll talk to you later, Celia.”
Kyle slammed the telephone on the receiver and dialed his father. The horrible reality fell into place. Howard Hirschmann. Len Hirsch.
Chapter Twenty
Using the car’s headlights to see, Jane locked the house. Descending the porch stairs, she clung to the railing, but when she hit the sidewalk, her foot slipped from beneath her. She caught herself. As she skidded, her vision was drawn to the large footprints pressed into the snow beneath the front window—a waffle footprint with a round emblem on the heel. A chill ran through her. Kyle’s theory was wrong.
The car lights blinded her, and she hurried around and reached for the back door handle. As she did, she heard Len’s muffled voice over the engine. “In front, Jane.”
She took a step sideways and opened the front door. She eyed the empty seat.
“Climb in,” he said, patting the spot beside him.
“Where’s Celia?”
He chuckled. “You know her. She wasn’t ready, so I said I’d come by myself.”
“That’s nice of you, Len. Thanks.” Jane closed the door, grateful for Celia’s friendship.
“Celia said she’d start dinner.” He shifted into reverse and backed slowly from the driveway.
“Driving’s terrible,” Jane commented, grasping for conversation.
“When you’re determined, you can do anything.”
His tone rang strangely in her ears, but she chided her skittish thoughts. “You’re right about that,” she said.
The car slipped as he turned the corner, and he adjusted his grip. Though salt trucks rumbled past, the highway appeared glazed and slick. Jane rubbed her neck, feeling edgy and anxiously watched for the familiar landmarks.
When the car passed the expected turn, Jane sidled a look at Len. “Didn’t you miss the turnoff?”
He stared straight ahead. “For Celia’s, yes, but I have some unfinished business first.” He glanced at her. “You don’t mind, do you?”
She did, but what difference did it make? She shook her head and stared off into the snowy darkness. They took the ramp onto the interstate, and a panicky feeling swept over her. She didn’t want to be out in this storm with Len, running strange errands. Why hadn’t he dropped her off at Celia’s? They’d been so close.
Her hands lay knotted in her lap, and her icy fingers trembled inside her leather gloves.
“Nervous?” he asked. “You look scared to death.”
A laugh raked from his throat that smacked Jane in the pit of her stomach. When she lifted her eyes to his, he squinted at her, an odd glint in his eyes.
“I’m not crazy about this storm. I suppose I’d rather you’d drop me at Celia’s.”
“I suppose.” He chuckled. “But I couldn’t do that.”
His words nailed her to the seat. Why couldn’t he drop her off first? She feared to ask. In the depth of her mind, images rose. Len had been at the cider mill and the Christmas party. He’d offered to bring her a drink. Later she’d been ill. Instinctively she looked down in the glow of the instrument panel and noticed his heavy boots. Did they have a waffle-pattern sole?
Her heart pounded and her pulse jackhammered in her temple. She struggled to think clearly. The key. Had he had the opportunity to get her house key? Maybe from the rock outside. But did he know about that? Or the day she misplaced her keys at school. They’d hung in her unlocked car all day.
The pumpkin farm? Hiding beneath a scarecrow costume was easy. Her mind flew, thinking of all the encompassing incidents. The razor blade. Celia’s key would let him into her classroom. Was she right? And did Celia know about it after all?
She glanced nervously toward him. “Where are we going, Len?”
Clutching her purse in her lap, she heard the chime of her cell phone. She gasped. Kyle. Could she—
“Turn that thing off,” Len said, his volume rising.
“But—”
“Off!”
She fumbled in her bag and jammed the power button. The ringing stopped.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice like syrup. “We have a little business to take care of, Jane, you little redheaded beauty.”
Jane hesitated. Had she misunderstood his intentions? “You shouldn’t say that, Len. What about Celia?”
A sick laugh burst from him. “Celia? But, Jane, I only hung out with Celia to learn more about you.”
Her memory flew back to Celia and Len’s meeting. Had he manipulated their chance meeting at the restaurant? “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you, Jane…and that fiery hair. Just like Red Conroy.”
She gasped.
He leered at her.
“What does my dad have to do with anything?”
“He double-crossed my father, Jane. Don’t you remember?”
“Your father?” Her mind flew, trying to imagine what he meant.
“Howard Hirschmann. Does the name ring a bell?”
Hirsch. Hirschmann. And Howard, the name in the Dick and Jane primer.
“Your father set mine up to be murdered, to cover his own crime. Crooked cops…get away with murder. I’ve suffered for years. My father took the fall for yours. Red promised my dad anonymity and protection. Instead he betrayed him. Killed him.”
“My father was killed, too, Len. My dad was innocent. The stories connecting him to the rackets weren’t true. They were a cover-up to protect your dad, not hurt him.”
> Like a dying leaf in the winter wind, her body trembled without mercy. How could she convince him? “They were both killed. All these years I believed those stories were true. But I found out different. They’re not true.”
Len sneered at her. The car skidded on the slick pavement. “Does the weather remind you of anything, Jane?” He veered the wheels back to the road.
She froze, remembering the frightening drive to the hospital the day Kyle had been shot. “How did you know about that night?”
“Heard of a police scanner? Anybody can buy one.”
Bile crept to her throat. She swallowed the burning sensation, praying to God for help. “You have to believe me, Len. I’ve suffered the same as you.”
A sick laugh rent the air. “You’ve suffered just a little more, Jane. But I’m nearly finished. No more suffering. It’ll all be over.”
All over. “What do you mean?” Her voice tore from her.
“What do you think I mean? I mean all over, no more suffering. Finished. Done. Dead.”
Dead. She forced a scream back inside her.
He pulled an envelope from his pocket and dropped it into her lap. She stared at it, not needing to read its horrifying contents.
“Open it.” He glared at her with wild, glazed eyes.
She pulled the paper from its housing, her blurred eyes focusing on the familiar block print.
See Jane die.
Her tremors shook the paper from her hand. She snatched it and shoved it out of sight.
She had to think. Remain calm. Oh, God, help me.
“I’ve lived in terror for months. Isn’t that enough? Can’t we stop now?” Fear rasped her voice.
“For months I sat in a drug clinic trying to put my life back in order. Months. For years, I lived without a father because of you—your father.”
His words spiraled through her mind.
“Without realizing, my old friend Dale Keys told me where you were. I’ll never forget the day he came for a visit and mentioned that the art teacher told him a woman teacher had taken over his class at Jackson Elementary. A Jane Conroy. ‘Conroy?’ I asked myself. ‘Could that be Jane Conroy, daughter of Red Conroy?’ And by jingo, it was. I’d never have known. So I came back to the old hometown to watch you suffer.”
Tremors tore through her. She had to escape. If she opened the car door, she’d be killed, but eventually they had to stop. And when they did, she’d run.
Kyle’s powerful image rose in her mind. Dear God, please, send him to me. Lord, You can move mountains.
“Have I told you why you must suffer, Jane? ‘Because I am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sins of the fathers.’ God has given me permission to punish you, to rid the world of your suffering. Then I’ll rid the world of mine.”
In his madness, Len would never listen to reason. Jane’s heart thundered, her pulse raced, her mind tore. Heavenly Father, I have no way to protect myself. Lord, keep me safe. Forgive my sins, and I pray, Lord, for Your holy protection. In Jesus’ name.
“Amen” echoed in her terror-filled mind. She closed her eyes, waiting for God’s peace to calm her.
Kyle stood, gripping the telephone receiver, his father on the other end of the line. “Check out Union Lake,” he said to a fellow officer sitting at a computer. “My dad said they met years ago in some cottage there.” That has to be it. A perfect location. No one around in the winter, and he’d associate the place with his father’s meetings with Jane’s dad.
The officer glanced at Kyle. “You don’t think he’d take her to his home?”
“No chance. This guy’s sick. He’s preoccupied with the past. Each attack has gotten worse, and he’s about as dangerous as he’s going to get. Can you find the place?” A lake. The impossible spiraled into Kyle’s mind. His gut ached with panic.
“I’m getting there.” A map rose on the screen, pinpointing the address Kyle had gotten from the buried informant files. “Here it is.”
“Print it off. There’s an APB to watch for his vehicle. Send them the address.”
Kyle ripped the paper from the printer, and George dashed alongside him to the squad car.
Kyle’s mind wrestled with the pieces of information that he’d gathered since he’d spoken to Celia. An image of the cement block lay as heavily on his thoughts as concrete. In frozen fear, the block jettisoned Len’s plan into Kyle’s mind. If he used the concrete as an anchor, Jane’s body would sink to the lake bottom through a hole in the ice. Her remains wouldn’t be found for months, if at all. His prayers soared as George sped away from the station house and headed down Telegraph Road toward Union Lake.
Street signs flew past and Jane realized they were headed north. Len’s voice jarred her.
“I want to show you where I spent my happier summer days, Jane. On Union Lake. Dad used it as a safe house for meetings with your father. The weather’s not good for swimming, but that won’t matter.”
Swimming. The cement block bolted into her thoughts, a ludicrous symbol of the mob’s body disposal method. Hysteria knotted inside her. Ignoring his chatter, her mind raced, trying to imagine how she might distract him. Anything.
Earlier, they’d left the main highway. The narrow winding roads slanted and turned following Sylvan Lake, Orchard Lake, Cass Lake, Green Lake. Union Lake had to be near.
As his car swerved and spun down a narrow strip of road, darkness shrouded everything. Summer cabins closed for the winter. Empty. Silent. She shuddered.
Len pulled behind a cottage and slowed, turning off the lights. Ready to bolt, Jane glanced toward the door handle. Before she moved, metal flashed in Len’s hand.
“Don’t try it, Jane. I don’t want to shoot you.” He laughed. “But then, it doesn’t really matter one way or the other.”
In the midst of her frenzied mind, logic found her. Reason told her a bullet was immediate and deadly. Drowning gave her more time to find an escape.
Len brandished the weapon and pulled out a wide roll of gray duct tape. He handed it to her. “Tape your ankles, Jane. Wrap the tape round and round. But first your mouth. Wrap it all the way around.”
Struggling to control her fingers, Jane pulled the tape around her mouth and hair, tensing her jaw and face as rigidly as possible, hoping to leave a gap.
He didn’t seem to notice in the dark.
She did the same with her ankles, creating tension and pulling them apart as imperceptible as possible.
But Len grabbed the tape and tightly bound her hands in front of her, then wrapped her arms. When she was bound, he leaped from the car. Slipping in the mounds of snow, he darted to the cottage porch and pulled a snow shovel from beneath the flooring. Frantically he dug at the huge snow pile blocking the door of a small shed at the side of the cottage.
Alone, Jane pulled her legs and arms against the tape, trying to loosen it. She scanned for headlights in the side view mirror. Her prayers soared, but nothing came into view.
She turned again to the shed. Len had removed enough snow to open the door. He vanished momentarily, and she twisted her legs, praying to free them, but the tape clung to her pant legs. She remained bound.
Then a motor kicked in, and her heart thundered as a snowmobile shot from the shed and pulled behind her.
In the side view mirror, headlights glared through the windows and silhouettes sprang from a car. With one wrenching motion, she slammed her body against the door lock, praying to delay Len’s forcing her outside.
Shouts echoed through the darkness, and a shot rang through the night.
Fear and hope spiraled through her. She pressed herself deep into the seat cushion as sirens and voices screamed in her ears.
The snowmobile motor revved, and tore away.
Gunfire. Glass shattered in the driver’s side window. The explosion thundered in her ears. She slid farther toward the floor, praying for safety. With her heart hammering, she heard the chaos move toward the lake.
Lights flashed through the window—blurr
ing red, blue lights circling through her tears. Her chest ached from her thundering heart. Then she heard her name.
“Jane? Where are you?”
Unable to answer, her tears rolled down beneath the edge of duct tape. “Kyle.” Her lips formed his name.
The driver’s door flew open.
Cringing, Jane looked into the terror-filled eyes of the man she loved.
Kyle hit the unlock button and circled the car, jerking open the door and pulling her into his arms.
Within moments, she stood free beside him, her sobs raking through her body. Kyle’s strong, safe arms held her fast, and she heard his whispers of love and thanks to God.
When she gained control of her trembling body, he guided her to the squad car and tucked a blanket around her. He vanished for a moment, then returned.
“It’s over, Jane. They have him, wounded but alive.”
“He planned to drown me.”
“I know. When I realized it was Len, so many things fell into place.” He searched her face. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, I’m okay. I prayed so hard. God heard me.”
“He heard lots of us. My folks are waiting for us. They’ve been on their knees since I called them.”
Nestled in Kyle’s arms on the Mannings’ sofa, Jane’s exhaustion weighed heavily. After filling in the pieces and rehashing the story, his parents excused themselves. She and Kyle were alone.
Jane cuddled in his arms. Never again would she leave him. Despite the horror of the past months, God had given her a gift. Kyle. How could she doubt that they were meant to be together? She looked into his love-filled eyes, her heart swelling with contentment.
Kyle marveled at Jane’s resilience, and his mind raced through the five months since they’d met. Without question, she was God’s gift to him. And now, he had a gift to return to her, then his family.
“I’m accepting Kitzmiller’s job offer tomorrow, Jane. I know this is a strange time to tell you, but after all this horror, I think you’ll be relieved. You told me to do what I had to do, and I think God wants this.”
A Love for Safekeeping Page 20