“They’ll be here soon enough,” Bernie conceded as she studied the door. It was old and flimsy-looking and the upper hinge didn’t look too sturdy.
An idea occurred to Libby. She put her hand to her mouth.
“What?” Bernie asked, even though Libby hadn’t said anything.
“Do you think Ellen’s trying to kill herself?”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Bernie replied. But then she hadn’t thought Ellen would do something like this either. Bernie’s heart started racing. “Ellen,” she yelled, pounding on the door with her fists.
When there was no answer, Bernie rammed into it with her shoulder. The door shuddered, but stayed intact. She tried again. She thought she felt the door move slightly but she couldn’t be sure.
She was rubbing her shoulder when Libby said, “Here, let me help.”
Bernie nodded her appreciation. “All right then. On the count of three.”
“Three it is,” Libby said as she got into position.
At three both sisters hit the door full-on. There was a splintering noise and one of the hinges gave way.
“We probably could have picked the lock,” Libby noted as she pushed the door open. “Isaac will not be happy.”
“No, he won’t,” Bernie noted as both sisters charged into the bathroom.
The room was empty.
The window was open, just as Libby had predicted.
Bernie stared at it. “I don’t believe it,” she said. She felt angry and hurt and betrayed and relieved that Ellen wasn’t dead all at the same time.
“Come on,” Libby cried, pulling her sister out of the bathroom. “We’re wasting time.”
“I’m going to kill her,” Bernie growled as she followed her sister out of the motel room.
“First we have to get her,” Libby observed.
Libby and Bernie jumped as the motel door slammed shut behind them. From where they were, they had a clear view of Ellen standing on the driver’s side of her Subaru, frantically trying to open the car door.
Chapter 6
“Ellen,” Bernie yelled. “Wait. Don’t go. Please. We have to talk.”
Ellen paused for a nanosecond and tugged at the car door one last time. The door didn’t budge. Bernie watched a look of horror cross Ellen’s face as she realized the door was locked. She patted her pants pocket for her keys. They weren’t there. I bet she left them in the motel room, Bernie thought as she watched Ellen start to walk to the rear of the car. Then Ellen changed her mind, pivoted, and headed for the trees that ringed the parking lot. She was running, but not very fast. Being thirty pounds overweight was slowing her down.
Bernie cursed under her breath while she reached down and took off her Manolos being that it was hard to run in stilettos. She couldn’t believe she was going to have to chase Ellen down.
“Come on,” Bernie cried, grabbing Libby’s arm. “She’s getting away.”
Libby didn’t move. “Good. Let her.” She’d had enough drama for the moment.
“We have to catch her.”
“No. We really don’t. We can wait till she comes back for her car keys.” And she walked over and went to open the motel room door. It was locked. Great! A self-locking lock. Just what they needed. “Or maybe not.”
“Well, I’m not waiting for her to come back,” Bernie announced.
“And why is that?”
Bernie stuck out her chin. “Number one, we don’t know if she’s coming back here or not, and number two, I’m damned if I’m going to be made a fool.”
“So because you’re pissed, I have to chase someone through the woods wearing flip-flops?”
Bernie raised her hand. “Hey, come with me or not. It’s up to you. But I am going to catch Ellen and find out what’s going on if it’s the last thing I do. Ellen,” she yelled as her friend disappeared into the trees.
Then Bernie took off.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Libby muttered as she watched Bernie go. She could stay, but she knew she wouldn’t. Her sister was her sister even if she was an idiot. However, this was a bad idea. She didn’t like running under the best of circumstances and these were not the best of circumstances. At least, if she were wearing sneakers . . . but she wasn’t. She was wearing shoes that had been developed for walking on the sand, and she didn’t see any sand here.
She could hear her sandals making a slapping noise on the tarmac as she ran. On top of everything else, it was hard to see. Her night vision had never been great and the sun had set since she and Bernie had gone into the motel room and there was no moon out. All Libby could see of Bernie was a gray shape moving in front of her. Then her sister entered the woods and Libby lost sight of her altogether.
When Libby got to the forest, she paused to get her bearings. She was trying to decide which way to go when she heard twigs cracking in front of her. Then she heard Bernie shouting Ellen’s name.
“Okay, then,” Libby said to herself as she headed toward the sound.
As Libby ran, she wondered what her sister was going to do if and when she caught Ellen. Was she going to tackle her? Hold her down? What?
Meanwhile, Bernie was a hundred yards or so upfront. “Please, stop,” she called out to Ellen, but Ellen kept going.
By now she and Ellen were running through the trees that had overgrown the parking lot and taken possession of the cornfield that had been there when the land was a farm. Bernie cursed the low-hanging pine branches that kept hitting her in the face as she raced through the woods.
Libby was right. I shouldn’t be doing this, Bernie thought as she stopped for a moment to catch her breath and pluck a thorn out of her heel. But I especially shouldn’t be doing this without shoes. But pride made her keep going. She stopped again a few yards later, bent down, and rubbed her right foot. She could feel welts and cuts. She didn’t even want to think about what she was stepping on, let alone the condition of her pedicure. When had she gotten her last tetanus shot anyway? She put her right foot down, picked up her left foot, and flicked off a pebble that had lodged itself in her arch. In the future, it might be a good idea to keep an extra pair of running shoes in the van.
“It’s going to look really bad if you run away,” Bernie yelled at Ellen after she’d straightened up.
Ellen didn’t reply. All Bernie heard was the sound of twigs snapping and brush being pushed aside, a good indication that Ellen was still moving.
Bernie tried again. “Please, Ellen,” she begged. “Don’t do this.”
Ellen’s voice floated back to her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I made a mistake. I should never have gotten you involved. Go home.”
“I can’t do that,” Bernie called back. “I am involved.”
“Just pretend you were never here,” Ellen said.
Bernie could hear Ellen gasping for breath somewhere in front of her. She can’t be that far, thought Bernie. If I keep her talking, maybe I can sneak up on her and tackle her.
“That’s not possible,” Bernie said as she very carefully lifted her right foot up and put it down. There was no sound. This was good.
“Sure, it is,” Ellen replied.
Bernie lifted her left foot up and slowly brought that one down. “What about the dead body?” she asked. “How do I explain him?”
Ellen’s breath sounded a little more regular. “You don’t have to.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really. No one is here. No one knows you saw anything. Just don’t tell anyone and you’ll be fine.”
“Is that your plan?”
Ellen didn’t answer.
“What if I’m not fine with it?” Bernie asked. Just keep talking, she silently ordered Ellen as she lifted up her right foot and brought it down. There was a crackling noise as she stepped on a twig. “Damn,” Bernie said out loud.
Suddenly, she heard rustling up ahead. “Wait, Ellen,” she called after her. “Please stay where you are. The two of us can talk this out.”
“I don’t think so,”
Ellen said. “I don’t think so at all.” And she was off again.
Bernie closed her eyes. The noise Ellen was making was coming from the right, which meant that Ellen had turned and was heading in a slightly different direction. She concentrated on picturing the lay of the land.
If her memory served, there was an open field after the trees and then a road and a housing development. The road—she thought it was Danbury Circle West—circled back and around to the motel. Ellen was going to follow it to get her car. She didn’t know that the door to the motel room had slammed shut. Or did she? Maybe she was planning to wiggle her way back through the bathroom window.
Or maybe Ellen wasn’t going back to the motel. No. She had to. She needed to get her car. She couldn’t just leave it there. And then all of a sudden Bernie knew. When Ellen had been going to the rear of the car she must have had a key hidden underneath the fender in one of those little metallic boxes. Ellen just hadn’t had time to get it. Bernie groaned. She had to beat Ellen back to her Subaru and get that key.
Chapter 7
Bernie started running again. After a couple of minutes though, she felt shooting pains going up the front of her calves and she remembered why she’d given it up. Shin splints. She kept on going anyway, brushing the ever-present low-hanging branches away from her face as she ran. She’d gone a couple of hundred feet when she stepped on something that stabbed her in her instep. She cursed and kept on going, but then she stumbled on a rock and twisted her ankle. This time she fell to the ground. She was just getting up when Libby bumped into her.
Libby screamed. They both went down.
“Sorry,” Libby said, hoisting herself up. She rubbed her side where Bernie’s elbow had jammed into her.
“Jeez,” Bernie said after she’d gotten her wind back. “Watch where you’re going, why don’t you?”
“I didn’t see you.”
“Obviously,” Bernie replied. She dusted herself off. Maybe if they hurried they could still beat Ellen back to the Subaru. But when Bernie tried to get up, a searing pain shot through her ankle. “I think I sprained something.”
“Fantastic.” Libby couldn’t help herself. Her thoughts immediately went to all the work she was going to have to do by herself. She knew she should be more charitable. She was trying, but she wasn’t succeeding.
Bernie used a rock outcropping next to her to pull herself up. She took a step and groaned. Her ankle was throbbing. “I think I’m going to need your help getting back.”
“What about Ellen?” Libby asked.
“I blew it,” Bernie admitted.
They both fell silent.
“I don’t hear her. You think she stopped?” Libby asked.
“Maybe. Or maybe she made it to Danbury West.”
“Where?”
“That’s the road that goes to Clearview Gardens. It circles back to the motel.”
“You think that’s what she’s going to do?” Libby asked.
“That’s what I would do,” Bernie said. “I was hoping I could beat her back to the Subaru and get her car keys.”
“Not at the pace you’re going now, you’re not,” Libby observed.
“Maybe, but she’s got longer to go and she’s not exactly fleet of foot.”
“She’s faster than you are at the moment,” Libby retorted.
Bernie didn’t say anything because it was true. Instead, she reached up and repinned her hair.
“Plus,” Libby added, “she did climb out the window and you never thought she could do that.”
“True,” Bernie conceded. She thought about the route Ellen was going to have to take. “But if she cuts through the trees, she still has to walk over the field, and back up the road.”
“If she doesn’t retrace her steps like we are.”
“She can’t. We’d hear her if she did.”
“It doesn’t matter. We still can’t catch her, especially since you can’t walk.”
“I can too,” Bernie protested.
“You can hobble.”
“Limp.”
“Same thing.”
“No it’s not. Limping is faster.” Bernie took a step to prove her point. She groaned as the pain shot up her leg again. “This might be a little trickier than I thought,” she conceded, stopping and leaning against a tree for support.
“How bad is it?” Libby asked her sister. “Do you think you broke something?”
“No. I think I just need to ice it,” Bernie said. “I think it’s a bad sprain.”
Libby took Bernie’s arm and put it across her shoulder to help take some of the weight off her sister’s foot. They’d walked a few more steps when Bernie held out her hand. “Wait. I have to stop again.” She felt around, found a rock, and leaned against it.
“Has it ever occurred to you that it’s time to stop being so stubborn, call the police, and tell them what happened?” Libby asked her sister.
“Yeah, it’s occurred to me,” Bernie said. “Maybe they’re already there with Bruce.”
“If he called them,” Libby said.
“He’ll call them,” Bernie prophesized.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he’s that kind of guy.”
“And if the police aren’t there?” Libby asked.
Bernie turned to face her sister. “Listen, I just want to hear her story first before we throw her to the lions. After all, Ellen came to us for help.”
“And then she ran away.”
“Because she was terrified.”
“Or because she killed the guy,” Libby said.
“I thought we agreed that she didn’t,” Bernie replied.
“Maybe I’m changing my mind,” Libby said.
“She’s my friend, Libby. I’ve known her for over twenty years.”
“And she’s always been a pain in the ass.”
“This is true.”
“Sometimes there’s such a thing as being too loyal.” Libby scratched her arm. It felt as if something had just bitten her. “She doesn’t have to know it’s us. We could always call the police from the pay phone on Oakwood Drive, the one near the strip mall that sells Maltese puppies, and tell them there’s a dead body in the Riverview Motel. Then we’ll get you home and ice that ankle.”
“As simple as that?” Bernie said.
“Yes. As simple as that,” Libby replied.
“But I’ll know. Also there are probably video cameras at that strip mall and they’ll see us making the call.”
Libby brushed a moth away from her face. “As long as we’re on that subject, have you thought about what we’re going to say to the cops about the body in the bed?”
“That we found it.”
“And then they’ll say, ‘why didn’t you call it in immediately ? ’ and we’ll say . . . ?”
“We’ll explain,” Bernie said.
“Too bad the person who summoned us to the Riverview Motel won’t be able to vouch for us.”
“She will,” Bernie replied.
“If we find her.”
“When we find her.” Bernie took a deep breath. “She needs us.”
“She certainly isn’t acting that way,” Libby observed.
Bernie sighed and rubbed her ankle. The throbbing was getting worse. She could feel the pulsing in it. “On one hand, I’d like to wring her throat. On the other hand, I feel bad for her.”
“Bad? Are you nuts?” Libby squawked.
“No. I think that she must be terrified given the way she’s acting.”
“So you’ve said.” Libby snorted. “I have to say, I think that’s a charitable interpretation of her actions.”
Bernie crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t think she killed him and you don’t think so either.”
“Then why is she lying, Bernie?” Libby demanded. “Why did she run away?”
“I told you. She panicked. Remember she was the one who called us here.”
“I’m not forgetting. I’m also not forgetting that
she faked her own kidnapping,” Libby replied. “Talk about boneheaded moves. Maybe from a teenage girl, but from a mother of three boys? Seriously.”
“Stupid? Absolutely. Childish? Without a doubt,” Bernie replied. “But that doesn’t make her a murderer.”
Libby scratched a bite on her calf. Mosquitoes loved her. “All I know is that if it weren’t for Ellen all the macaroons would be packed up and we would be done.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Bernie told her.
She slowly began putting weight on her ankle and winced as the pain shot up her leg again. God, what she wouldn’t give to be home right now with a couple of packages of frozen peas on her ankle and a glass of Scotch in her hand.
She didn’t say anything else for a minute, just sat there listening to the night sounds and letting the breeze wash over her. She thought she heard an owl in the distance, but she wasn’t sure. Suddenly she was very tired. She knew she should get moving but she really didn’t want to. Then she had an idea.
“Libby,” she began.
“No. Absolutely not,” said Libby, cutting her sister off. She was way ahead of her.
“You don’t know what I’m about to say,” Bernie protested.
“I’ve got a pretty good idea. You want me to go after Ellen by myself and I’m not going to,” Libby told her.
“I’m not asking you to go after her, Libby,” Bernie said. “I’m just asking you to beat her back to her Subaru and get the key from under the fender.”
“And then what?”
“Wait for me.”
“What if she wants her key back?”
“Don’t give it to her.”
“What if she attacks me?”
Bernie snorted. “Ellen? Don’t be ridiculous. She’s not going to attack you.”
“What if she does? After all, you didn’t think she’d climb out the window either. Or what if she decides to run away?”
“Libby, please,” Bernie answered. “I would do this if I could, but I can’t. I realize there’s no good solution here, but finding Ellen and talking to her is the least bad one. All I’m asking is for you to stall her until I get there.”
“How are you going to get there? You can hardly walk.”
“I’ll manage. I’ll just rest a lot.” Bernie took Libby’s hands in hers. “Please, I’m begging you.”
A Catered Mother's Day Page 4