The officer stared at her.
“I was nine when my father died. Or disappeared, as I know now. He left me with that degenerate, Dudley. Nobody listened when I told them what was happening. Not the school principal, the doctors who stitched me up over and over, the welfare people. Nobody.” Junie adjusted her grip on the shotgun. “So, I decided that when I was old enough, I’d take care of them myself. And with your help, I’m almost there. Three more to go.”
“We helped each other out, right?” Emmet asked.
“Up to a point, yes. But why? Why were the three of you after these men?”
“The three of you?” Petchard blurted, shifting to look at Emmet. “You were working with two other people to hunt men down and kill them?” He glared at Joseph, who didn’t move. “You’re a cop, man.”
Junie pressed the Glock’s barrel to Petchard’s forehead while keeping the shotgun leveled at Emmet. “What did I tell you, Hugo?”
His murky green eyes rolled up to look at her. “To keep quiet.”
“That’s right. I know you’re curious, but you’ll just have to listen to the grown-ups talk. I’m sure even your little brain can put all the pieces together if you try hard enough.” She bumped the gun against his forehead hard enough to leave a raspberry and then eased back, studying Joseph who still gazed at the floor. “Go on, Emmet.”
“There were five of them. They murdered our fathers.”
Junie’s blink was slow in coming and Emmet wondered if whatever drug she had taken was finally kicking in. “What are you talking about?”
“Can I show you something? In my wallet?”
“Slowly, or Moses dies. Understand?”
He pulled the wallet from his hip pocket, opening it to take the copy of the article out. He held it up for Junie to see. She shot Petchard a warning glance and leaned in to read. “Dudley used to crow about this,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “It happened two years before I was born. There were other lynchings, but this is the one he was most proud of.” She stepped back. “So you’re done now.”
Emmet put the article and wallet on the floor. He nodded.
“My father was the last of them.”
Again, he nodded.
“How did you find him?” Junie’s eyes had taken on a soft look, and the hand holding the shotgun drifted from side to side as if caught in a gentle tide.
“Luck again. I stopped to get gas at his store and thought he looked familiar. It took me a day or two to figure it out. I had a photo of your dad, from his time as Thayerville sheriff. He was a good looking man.”
Junie’s eyebrow arched.
“Your dad was handsome. Not in a movie star way, but even in his old age he had an air about him. Authority, maybe.”
“How long did you plan it?”
“Months,” Emmet said. Joseph remained motionless. Petchard was following the conversation, turning his head slightly as each of them spoke. “Donna and Moses went out to see him, and we checked his background. We decided Calvin Whitman was really Calvin Whitehead once we hit 1979 and couldn’t go back any farther.”
Junie drew a sharp breath. “He died in 1978. Christmas Eve.”
“Faked his death,” Emmet clarified. “He must’ve taken some time to change his identity and maybe lay down a false trail if anybody came after him. It wasn’t until mid-1979 that he bought the store out here.”
“I didn’t know,” she whispered. Junie’s dark eyes were fixed on Emmet, but their glassy gaze stared through him. “It never even crossed my mind that he abandoned me. Not until I saw his corpse outside that store.”
Emmet thought he understood. “And we took him away from you.”
Her gaze refocused on him. “Yes.”
“That’s why you’re after us? Because we killed your father?”
“Yes.”
“We got him, Junie. He’s dead. We didn’t deprive you of anything.”
“Yes you did,” she growled, the feminine façade fading. “I would’ve given him a taste of what I got from Boyd Dudley and his sick friends.”
“But you didn’t even know he was alive, Junie. Without us, you wouldn’t have known to look for him. And he would still be alive. But he isn’t.”
“I would have found him,” she whispered. The shotgun pointing at Emmet steadied and he saw the muscles tighten in her forearm as she applied pressure to the trigger.
CHAPTER 141
CASS CIRCLED THE HOUSE in a crouch, reaching up to test the curtained windows. None budged. Noise came from two ancient window unit air conditioners, one upstairs and one down, and from a groaning water well behind the house. As she rounded the front corner, the late afternoon sun glittered on the patchy grass at her feet. Cass squatted and spotted glass shards, then looked upward. A single pane was missing from a wide window. She studied the shards and saw no blood. Not a guarantee that no one had been shot, but some small comfort nonetheless. She eased toward the house and tried to listen but the air conditioner covered any other sounds.
The house had only two entrances – a back and front door, which were probably locked. Given its proximity to the shot out window, she would by-pass the front door. Cass crept along the house and quietly walked up the concrete steps to the back door. She grabbed the knob and caught her breath when it twisted in her hand. She drew a deep breath, acknowledging that she was violating Sheriff Hoffner’s direct order by simply being out of the truck. Going into the house without backup was another matter entirely. Could she put her ego aside and wait the few minutes it would take for backup to arrive? John Grey took a chance to bring her back to work and she appreciated his trust in her. She had to do his decision justice. Reluctantly, she released the doorknob and backed down the steps, wiping sweat from her forehead.
For once, she would prove to Sheriff Hoffner that she could follow an order. No matter how hard it was to wait.
CHAPTER 142
TRUMAN DROVE PAST THE farmhouse at a steady speed. Two pickups were in the narrow driveway. “I don’t see Cass or Petchard.”
“Where is she?” Kado asked. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed. “No answer.”
Munk and Kado twisted in their seats as they passed the farmhouse. “I didn’t see her,” Munk said. “Truman, pull over up ahead. Me and Kado will cross this pasture and come in behind the barn. I want you to drive back past the house and park on the side of the road out of sight of all windows, understood? I’ll call Elaine and have her contact the other officers to tell them to wait for further instructions.”
The young officer applied the brake and nodded.
“See if you can work your way to the tree with the tire swing in the front yard. It’s wide enough to provide good cover. Put your phone on vibrate and call once you’re in position, or if you spot anything. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Truman replied. Munk and Kado slipped out of the truck and through a barbed wire fence. Truman performed a three-point turn and resumed the same steady pace. He parked on the verge once the foliage grew thick enough to shield his pickup from the house. Reaching over, he unlocked the glove box and took an extra magazine for his department issued weapon from inside. He also withdrew another revolver in a holster and strapped it to his ankle.
“Thanks again, Mom,” he whispered, then left the truck and crept back toward the drive.
CHAPTER 143
WITH BARELY A MOVEMENT, Joseph tensed beside Emmet.
“You’re right, Junie,” Emmet agreed quickly. “You would’ve found him and it would’ve been much better if he’d died at your hands, not ours.” His eyes pled with hers. “But we didn’t know you were out there. We had no idea you or anybody else would want him dead. He murdered our fathers.”
“He murdered me,” she said, releasing tension on the trigger. “He abandoned me and picked Boyd Dudley to raise me. He had to have known what a monster Dudley was, that the man would use me. All this time? I loved my father. I excused him, tried to believe that he did what he thought was best.
That it was bad luck that Dudley turned out to be a pervert. But he knew. My father knew what he was doing.”
“I understand why you’d want to kill him yourself, Junie. But we didn’t know about you. We just wanted our own revenge. So why would you want to kill us now? It’s done. He died a horrible death.” Emmet cocked an eyebrow in Petchard’s direction. “I understand why you’d want to kill him. But you’ve got nothing to fear from us.”
“No loose ends,” she said, aiming the 12-gauge between Emmet and Moses and pointing the Glock at Petchard’s chest. “They might be able to trace me back to Tennessee and then on to Alabama, but it’s doubtful. Arcadia was only a temporary stop anyway. No one knows you’re out here. Once you’re dead, I’ll hit the road and that will be the end of Junie Archer.” She smiled. “Unless I decide to keep her.”
She drew a breath and leveled her aim.
“Fine. Kill me if you have to. But leave Joseph out of this. He wasn’t involved. In any of it.” Emmet was barely aware of a change in Joseph’s breathing. Be still, Joseph. Trust me and stay still.
Junie blinked several times. “What are you talking about?”
“This isn’t Moses, Junie. You killed Moses Wednesday night, not Joseph. The papers got it wrong.”
Petchard jerked back to look at Emmet and then Joseph. “You liar,” he said to the motionless man, his broiled face turning a deeper shade of crimson. “Impersonating an officer. You used the police department to try to keep tabs on the investigation. You’ll go down for this.”
“Quiet, lover,” Junie said almost absently, waggling the Glock at him. She snorted. “Good try, but it won’t work, Emmet.”
He was silent for a moment. “I don’t know how to prove it to you. Moses and Joseph were identical twins. I can tell them apart and so could their mother. Others,” he rolled his eyes at Petchard, “obviously can’t.”
“What do I care who this really is? It’s just another bullet to me.”
“No, Junie, it’s not. You have a strong sense of right and wrong.”
“She’s murdered how many men in cold blood, and you call that a sense of right and wrong?” Petchard bleated.
“I told you to be quiet, lover.” In a swift movement, Junie took aim and fired a single shot at Petchard.
Over the ringing in his ears, Emmet heard the blond officer howl.
____________
CASS DROPPED AT THE sound of the second gunshot and swept the yard with her weapon. A man’s shriek cut through the still afternoon air. Cool adrenaline flushed through her body and she was surprised to find herself at the top of the stairs, gun in one hand, doorknob in the other. She drew a deep breath, acknowledging that she was taking a huge chance by going in without backup and wondering how long Hoffner would suspend her this time. The fact that she might save Petchard’s sorry life again would carry no weight with the Sheriff.
She pulled her phone from her pocket, pressed a speed dial button, and lifted the phone to her ear. At least she could let someone know what she was doing. A second scream sounded and Cass turned the still ringing phone upside down and shoved in her back pocket. She focused on the door and what might wait beyond, and pushed into the house to another wail.
____________
“YOU’RE TRYING MY PATIENCE, Hugo,” Junie said to the man writhing on the couch. Petchard groaned as blood trickled through the hand covering his left ear. Emmet strained to hear her over the ringing in his ears. “It’s a flesh wound. Take it like a man and shut up before I put a bullet between your eyes.”
Emmet saw Joseph’s left hand moving toward his leg, but all motion ceased as Junie turned her attention back to them.
“Good shot,” Emmet said.
“One of you got me in the ear last night,” she said, turning her head slightly. “It does hurt, but I didn’t squeal like a girl.”
“And you don’t have it in you to kill an innocent man,” Emmet said. Although he had flinched at the sound of the gunshot, Joseph remained still. “Let him go.”
“You’re boring me,” she said, but the shotgun wavered.
“This whole process has been about vengeance for you, Junie, like it has been for us. Righting a wrong. Seeking justice on your own, because the system couldn’t or wouldn’t provide it for you. Joseph didn’t have anything to do with this. He was in jail in New York when we started. Moses never even told him what we were up to. Joseph didn’t find out until after Moses and his mother were dead. I told him, but only because I thought he’d leave me alone to get on with it.”
Junie’s gaze shifted fully to Joseph. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Mild concussion, I’d guess. Maybe shock over all this. He’s had reservations about coming after you. Even though I offered to do it alone, he’s been trying to keep up. But he doesn’t have the stomach for it.” Emmet returned his attention to Junie. “You’re not the kind of person who can kill an innocent man. You haven’t hurt anyone else while you’ve hunted them, have you?”
“No.”
“Then don’t start now. The men you’ve killed, the men I’ve helped kill, every single one of them deserved to die. And maybe you can justify killing me, but there’s no way you can kill Joseph and live with it. Let him go.” She blinked slowly. “Let him go so we can get on with this. Do what you have to do, then disappear. Joseph won’t come after you.”
“He’s a hacker, if I remember correctly. He’ll find me.”
“You said you’d change your identity and he won’t know where to start,” Emmet said, growing desperate. “All he does is break into banks and steal their money.”
“You’re right, you know,” Junie said. “Every kill has been righteous. Two of the men I’ve murdered had families, but I made sure they were away from the house when I did my business. They didn’t deserve to be hurt because of what their husbands and fathers did to me. They were innocent, and I’ve never killed someone who wasn’t guilty of hurting me.” She looked straight at Emmet and he could swear he saw glee in her eyes. “But there’s a first time for everything.”
Junie leveled the shotgun again. Next to Emmet, Joseph tensed. A barely audible ding sounded, signaling that someone had entered the house. Junie backed up several paces and switched the groaning air conditioner off. “Who knows?” she asked in a whisper.
Emmet shook his head and glanced at Officer Petchard, whose murky green eyes were liquid with pain. Junie waved the Glock at him. “Nobody,” Petchard whimpered. He swallowed hard. “I swear.”
She positioned herself behind the door to the living room, keeping the shotgun pointed at the men on the couch. Emmet watched as she shook her head and drew a quiet breath. Clearing the drugs, he thought. He glanced at Joseph to see the other man cut his eyes in Junie’s direction, as if gauging her position relative to his. What have you got up your sleeve, Joseph? Emmet wondered. And who the hell is walking around Junie’s house?
CHAPTER 144
MUNK FUMBLED THE PHONE from his pocket. “It’s Cass,” he told Kado, and the forensics man felt a tangible wave of relief wash over him.
The men were on the edge of the pasture that butted up against Junie Archer’s farmhouse yard, preparing to crawl between two strands of rusty barbed wire. A bony cow with long, twisting horns had galloped across the rain-thirsty pasture and now stood bellowing at them. Kado pulled the borrowed revolver from his ankle holster and aimed it at the animal. Munk waved at Kado to put the gun away. “There’s no grass out here. It’s hungry. Go open that gate and let it eat some hay. That’ll shut it up.”
Kado hurried to an enclosure protecting several moldy-looking bales of hay. The cow trotted behind him, mooing her urgency. He opened the gate and stood aside as she rushed to the nearest bale, rubbed it with her forehead, and then started eating.
Munk had made it through the fence by the time Kado got back to him. “Cass?”
“She’s not talking.”
“Did she hit a button by mistake?”
Munk shook his head. “
She has a flip phone. It cuts the call as soon as she shuts it. The sound is clear. She wants us to listen.”
____________
THE AIR CONDITIONER WENT silent. Heart thudding, Cass wondered if it had switched itself off, or if someone knew that she was here and was listening. Without the unit’s rattling hum, the sounds of water sluicing through pipes made sense of the well pump’s groaning outside.
She stayed close to the walls and tested each step before putting her foot down. Living in an old house as a teenager had taught her how to creep past her father when he was sober. When he was drunk, she could dance a conga line of elephants past him and he wouldn’t wake up. And while her older brothers had explained the concept of silent sneaking to her, it was down to Cass to perfect the mechanics. Some skills had to be learned through experience.
The farmhouse was two stories, and Cass eased up the stairs. Three rooms, only one containing furniture. An empty bathroom with the shower running. On the ground floor, Cass worked her way in a circuit through the kitchen, laundry room, and foyer, to a hallway with two doors, one on either side.
The house was sweltering and a drop of sweat rolled down her cheek. She wiped her face against her shoulder and studied the door that led to the room at the front of the house. The room with a window missing one pane. She hesitated. This was moving way too fast. Cass pulled her phone out and checked the screen. Still on an active call to Munk. She had to know where he was; how far out backup was. She lifted the phone and prepared to speak.
A thump, followed by a yelp, came from the front room. Cass twirled the phone so the microphone was exposed, shoved it back in her pocket, and opened the door.
CHAPTER 145
EMMET WATCHED JUNIE SMILE as the door swung inward to create her hiding place. Moments before, she had taken a featherlight step forward and smacked Petchard on his injured ear. The man barked a scream. As the door opened, Emmet realized that Junie had drawn her opponent in. He saw the flash of confusion on the attractive redhead’s face when she spotted Emmet and Joseph sitting on the couch next to an agonized and bloodied Officer Petchard. But that confusion cleared in an instant and she spun before Junie had a chance to swing the door closed. The two women faced off, the redhead with a 9 mm pointed in a double handed grip at Junie’s chest, Junie with a shotgun leveled at the couch, and her own Glock aimed at the redhead. It took Emmet a moment to realize that this was Cass Elliot, the detective who had been in the newspapers for the last few weeks over that whole cult mess. He appraised her steady breathing, her level gaze at Junie, and decided that they might have a chance to get out of here alive.
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