by D. B. Henson
You can do this. You’ve come this far, don’t give up now.
She closed her eyes and pictured Linda Hamilton’s sculpted biceps in the second Terminator movie. Then she imagined her own arms as being twice as muscular and twice as strong.
Loosening her grip on the limb, she moved her left hand across her right and began to travel up the branch toward the bank. She continued placing one hand above the other until her knees scraped the rocky river bottom. Her palms bloody, she crawled onto the shore.
The rain had weakened to a drizzle and the winds had calmed. Toni lay on her stomach, listening for the driver of the Audi. Although if she were to hear him searching for her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to run. Luckily, for now, the only sounds around her were the warble of a mocking bird and the faint staccato of a dog barking in the distance.
She rolled over and sat up. Her jeans were torn and her knees were skinned and bleeding. Somewhere along the way, she had lost her shoes. The soaked cable-knit sweater clung to her, cold and heavy, and for the first time, she realized she was shivering.
Her skin looked pale and shriveled. Her hands burned. She was freezing and exhausted. But she was alive.
Toni pulled off her sweater and wrung out the water as best she could. As she slipped it back over her head, she heard a voice in the distance. A woman’s voice, calling to someone.
Toni crawled behind an oak tree and then stood up. Through the grove of hardwoods, she saw the back side of a house. There was a woman standing in the driveway scanning the tree line. She called out again. Then Toni saw a small white dog run across the yard and jump into the woman’s arms.
Toni peered through the woods trying to detect any other signs of movement, any indication that the driver of the Audi was near. No one else was around. She moved out from behind the tree and started toward the house. The woman there could help her. She could phone the police.
But after a few steps, Toni stopped.
Brian, or whoever it was that ran her off the road, probably thought they had succeeded in killing her. Maybe it would be better if she stayed dead for a while.
With the house still in sight, she dropped to a crouch. She waited until the woman and dog were safely inside, and then headed through the woods toward her own home.
It would have been far easier and faster to walk back along the road, but she didn’t want to risk someone seeing her. She picked her way through the thick underbrush. Briars snagged her clothing and her wet feet grew numb with cold. Although the rain had stopped, the trees continued to shower her with water stored on their leaves.
By the time Toni reached the edge of her property, more than two hours later, the sun was setting.
She leaned against the mesh fence surrounding the tennis court and pulled pine needles out of her socks. She massaged her toes trying to regain some feeling. Her feet would probably be sore for days. She gazed across the lawn at the rear of her house. The electricity was back on. Every window glowed with light. A warm beacon calling her to safety.
She left the tennis court and walked to the pool area. She located the small magnetic box hidden underneath one of the wrought iron tables and removed her spare key. She let herself in through the breakfast room door. She stripped in the laundry room, leaving her wet clothes in a heap on the tile floor. Then she went upstairs to shower.
How long would it be before Brian realized she was still alive? She was fairly confident her car wouldn’t be found before morning. Even in daylight, it might not be visible from the bridge.
She knew her friends would start to worry when they didn’t hear from her. They would probably form their own little search party. Still, it could be days before they fished her BMW out of the water. Would she have time to find Nico? After nearly drowning, searching for him seemed a lot wiser than confronting Gloria again.
One thing was for certain. She couldn’t stay at home. She would have to disappear.
Toni dried off from her shower and then rubbed an antibiotic ointment onto her knees and palms. She dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and then pulled her hair up into a ponytail.
In her closet, she stuffed an overnight bag with a few days worth of clothing, and then slipped on a denim cap embroidered with the words Hard Rock Café, Jamaica. As she turned to leave, she glanced at the column of shelves near the door and realized she had a problem.
Her purse was still inside her car at the bottom of the river.
She had no money, no credit cards, and no identification. Without cash, she wouldn’t be able to get very far. She grabbed an empty handbag from one of the shelves and headed downstairs.
In the study, she pulled out the paper sack that held Scott’s belongings. She dumped the contents on top of the desk and then looked inside his wallet. There was a little over a hundred dollars. Not enough for what she had planned. His ATM card for their joint checking and savings accounts was there as well, but she knew any withdrawals she made could be traced.
Was Brian that good? Did he have that capability? Even if he didn’t, once her friends reported her missing, the police might check the accounts. If she used the card, they would see the activity and know she was still alive.
She stared at the built-in bookcase next to the fireplace. What about Scott’s safe? He had given her the combination the day after they moved in. She wondered if it was still empty. She slid her hand along the top of the bookcase and pushed the hidden latch. The bookcase swung forward revealing the safe.
Inside she found Scott’s passport, some computer back-up disks, and ten thousand dollars in cash. How much would she actually need? She had no idea how long she would be gone, or what problems she might run into. To be on the safe side, she counted out three thousand and put the rest back.
After closing the bookcase, she put the money inside Scott’s wallet and then slipped it into her handbag. Now that she had the funds, all she needed was a place to stay. A hotel was a bad idea. Too many people would be coming and going. She was almost certain to be spotted.
Thankfully, she had left her briefcase at home.
She snapped it open and took out the key to Josh Martin’s house. When the authorities recovered her car with no body inside, Brian would probably check out her vacant listings. But he would never know to look for her at Josh’s house. It wasn’t scheduled to hit the market for another two weeks.
Toni returned to the laundry room and secured the hunting knife to her belt before double-checking her overnight bag. When she was sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, she retrieved Scott’s keys from the kitchen drawer.
Time to play dead.
CHAPTER 22
The saleslady squinted her false-lashed eyes and pointed a silver fingernail. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
Toni had purposely driven thirty miles east of Nashville down interstate forty to the small town of Lebanon. Although she had seen the various shops in their large outlet mall advertised many times, she had never actually been there. She didn’t know anyone who lived in the town, and she had felt fairly confident she wouldn’t run into anyone that would recognize her.
Especially with her hair pulled up under her cap.
The salesclerk probably just remembered her face from a real estate magazine. She only hoped the lady would forget exactly which day Toni had been in the shop. Once her friends realized she was missing, they would more than likely have her picture plastered all across middle Tennessee. Posters asking, have you seen this woman?
“No, I don’t think so,” Toni said.
She turned away from the display case and walked toward the rear of the store. After browsing a few minutes, she picked up a Styrofoam head topped with a blonde wig in a short layered style.
“That’s the Lexy in butter cream,” the saleslady said. “It’s the last one we have in stock. She’s on sale too. Twenty-five percent off. Do you want to try it on?”
“No, that’s okay.”
“You should. That color would look really good on you, w
ith your blue eyes and all. It’s one of our best brands too.” She touched her own platinum locks. “Mine’s an Eva Gabor.”
“It’s very nice.”
“You think so? I was torn between this one and a Raquel Welch. The Raquel is a little bit straighter and longer in the back. It reminds me of that woman who used to be on Charlie’s Angels. Not the movie, the TV show. You know, the one who had the poster? I’ll probably end up buying it too. Not that I really expect to look like her, even though my husband, Wayne, said he sees a little resemblance. I asked my sister, but she didn’t see it. Wayne told me not to pay her any mind. He thinks she’s just jealous. She always was kind of plain. And the clothes she wears – collars buttoned all the way up to her chin, skirts down below her knees. I swear, she looks like she should be holed up in some library instead of behind the check-out counter at Wal-Mart. Heaven knows, she didn’t get that from me! Anyway, I guess that’s what happens when you work here with these beautiful pieces. You end up wanting to wear them all.”
Okay – one nut short of a fruitcake here.
Just listening to the woman made Toni exhausted. At least if the saleslady did remember waiting on Toni and phoned in a tip to the police, they probably wouldn’t take her seriously.
Toni held out the wig. “Luckily, I only need one. And I think this is it.”
“Now I know who you are!”
Oh, no. Please don’t let her remember my name.
“You’re that country singer. The one that wears those red leather pants. I’ve seen your music video a hundred times.”
Relieved, Toni put her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture and played along. “I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t want to draw a crowd.”
“I understand. If you sign one autograph, you’ll have to sign a hundred. You could be stuck here all night. That’s why you’re wearing that cap, so nobody will know it’s you.”
“You figured it out.”
“It must be hard being a celebrity. Everybody wants a piece of you. That was Elvis’s problem. He couldn’t even go outside his house in the daytime. The fans wouldn’t leave him alone. He could only go out at night after everything closed. I heard they used to open up the stores in Memphis in the wee hours of the morning so he could do his shopping. I don’t think I’d want that kind of fame. No offense.”
The saleslady took the wig from Toni and headed toward the cash register. Half way there, she stopped. “You know, you can wear this out if you want to. With the Lexy on, nobody will ever guess who you are.”
Toni was tempted. If she wore the disguise now, the urge to keep looking over her shoulder wouldn’t be so strong. But then, Ms Fawcett would probably want to help her put it on. If she took her cap off, the lady might realize that she wasn’t the singer after all.
“No, I’m kind of in a hurry, so I think I’ll take my chances.”
After adding a wig cap liner and a few accessories the saleslady assured her she could not live without, Toni paid for her purchase.
She hit two more shops before leaving the mall, one that sold cosmetics, the other eyeglasses. Before getting back onto the interstate, she pulled into a Hardee’s drive through and ordered a double cheeseburger and a Coke. It was only eight-thirty, but she was so tired, it felt more like four in the morning.
She wondered what Brian was doing. Was he celebrating? And what would he do once he figured out she had escaped? She had to find proof of his role in Scott’s death before that happened. Which led her back to Nico.
At this point, it seemed the construction worker was her only hope.
Josh Martin lived in Brentwood in a well-established neighborhood with large wooded lots. Toni killed her lights before pulling up the winding drive, rounding the curves by memory. It was possible that Josh’s neighbors knew he was out of town, and she didn’t want some busybody to notice her arrival and come snooping around.
Or worse, call the police.
She parked next to the garage and went around behind the house to the back door. Josh had left lights on in the den and the kitchen. She made her way through the house and into the garage. She was surprised to see his SUV parked inside. A friend must have taken him to the airport. She only hoped he hadn’t asked anyone to come by and check on the house.
She opened the garage door and pulled Scott’s X5 into the empty bay.
Maybe she should track Josh down and tell him what was going on. Make sure it was okay to hide out at his place. But in all honesty, he tended to be the smothering type. One of the major reasons their romantic relationship had ended. If she called him, he would probably insist on coming home to help her.
The idea of bringing in reinforcements was appealing, but impossible. It was enough her own life was in danger. She couldn’t risk putting Josh in harm’s way.
Toni went inside and curled up on the sofa in the den. She flipped on the television. The local news would be on at ten, and she wanted to see if there were any new developments regarding Dana.
There was one encouraging thing in all this. Detective Lewis wouldn’t be handling the case. He worked for the Blanton Hills Police Department and Leiper’s Fork was out of his jurisdiction. Maybe she’d get lucky and the sheriff’s department would assign someone a little more competent. Or at least someone willing to listen. Lewis was so close-minded, he couldn’t begin to see what was happening.
The cuts on Toni’s knees and hands still burned, and her left shoulder was sore. She felt as though she hadn’t slept in years. More than once, she caught herself drifting off and had to shake herself awake. After seeing a teaser ad declaring Dana’s murder the top news story, she forced herself to sit up and keep her eyes open.
As promised, at ten o’clock, after a brief comment regarding the weather and a short lead in, the news began with a reporter stationed at the gates of the horse farm. She stood next to the For Sale sign bearing Toni’s name.
“We now know the house was vacant except for a few furnishings,” the reporter said. “However it was completely ransacked. The thieves were apparently looking for anything of value, possibly even prescription medicines that may have been left behind. Earlier today, I spoke with the Chief Deputy of the Williamson County Sheriff’s Department. Here’s what he had to say.”
The station cut to the tape.
“Chief, what can you tell us concerning the investigation?”
“It’s well underway. We have a forensic unit on the scene now. They’re combing the house for evidence.”
“When did the crime occur?”
“The time of death has not been released yet, but we do believe it happened sometime between seven and ten o’clock last night.”
“We’ve seen pictures of the real estate agent, Dana Dawson. She was a beautiful young woman. Do you know if she was sexually assaulted?”
“We’ve found no evidence to suggest that she was.”
“Does it appear Ms. Dawson put up a struggle?”
“At this time, everything indicates the deceased was taken by surprise. We believe she was showing the home to someone posing as a buyer. No one outside the real estate agency knew the house was unoccupied. With a home of this size, in this price range, the perpetrators probably thought there were a lot of valuables inside.”
“Do you have any leads so far?”
“We’re following up on several tips we’ve received, and we’re confident the person or persons responsible will be apprehended.”
The story shifted to an interview with Toni’s managing broker, Henry McKay. In a diplomatic gesture, he spoke of Dana’s accomplishments and stated what a fine person she had been. He then assured all concerned homeowners this was an isolated incident and they shouldn’t worry about having their houses up for sale.
The camera switched back to a live shot of the reporter.
“We’ll continue to follow the case and keep you updated on any further developments. In the meantime, the victim’s family is offering a one-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for informat
ion resulting in a conviction. If any of our viewers has any knowledge of this crime, we urge you to call the police.”
So they still had no clue.
The police believed it had been a simple robbery. Toni wondered if Cheryl had spoken to them about Toni’s scheduled meeting with the fake Micheners. Not that it would do any good. The police would just think the killers were looking for someone – anyone – to get them inside the house.
Toni switched off the TV and dragged herself to the guest room.
She was too tired to think. In the morning, when her head was clear, she’d plan her next move.
CHAPTER 23
At nine o’clock Thursday morning, Brian stood in the empty garage and stared at the spot normally occupied by his brother’s silver BMW.
She was gone.
It was his fault. He had let her get away.
He kicked the plastic trashcan near the door, knocking it over and spilling garbage across the floor. He should have known to install a tracking device on Scott’s car. Now, Toni could be anywhere.
He knew she wouldn’t turn to Detective Lewis again. Reports of her coworker’s murder were all over the news. She was sure to have seen them. There was no way she would trust the police to protect her. This time, she would run.
She’d find a place to hide.
He went back inside the house and began searching for clues as to where she could have gone. In the laundry room, he found a damp sweater and muddy jeans stuffed in the trash. He rifled through the pockets looking for a scrap of paper, a phone number, anything that could lead him in the right direction.
They were empty.
He went into the study and rummaged through the desk, then checked both Scott’s desktop computer and Toni’s laptop computer for email. He flipped through a stack of bills and browsed Toni’s credit card statement. Her briefcase lay on a chair in the corner. He popped it open. Inside was a printout detailing each of her listings, some marked vacant. It was a starting point, although he doubted she’d risk hiding out in such an obvious location.