Necessary Detour

by Hornsby, Kim

  After several knocks, she laid her ear on the heavy wooden door. Nothing. The key stuck slightly and she had to jiggle it to make it work. “Hello,” she called, before stepping into the house. “Anyone home? It’s Nikki.”

  Breakfast sat on the kitchen table in a state of incompletion. Three bowls of cereal and a box of cheerios in the center of the table made it look like the breakfasters had been suddenly interrupted. Two bowls held floating cheerios, and the larger bowl was empty.

  Tony’s video games were scattered on the table of the main room, his sweatshirt slung across the chair’s back, and a game of monopoly remained in a stage of play on the table. If they hadn’t gone for good, where were they? The Bayers never left the property.

  Nikki’s heart pumped faster. She stepped carefully into the closest bedroom where Pete’s baseball cap hung on the bedpost, along with his rain jacket. The open closet was empty, but the strangest thing about the room was the electronic equipment on every surface, including the bed. Something beeped softly. One of the monitors displayed several views of the outside of the house—the back door, the bay, the side door, the road leading in to the property, the gate. There were computers, screens, wires, cameras and enough surveillance equipment to raise the hairs on the back of her neck.

  How could someone sleep on this bed, with all that equipment? He and Connie probably slept in the other room. This one showed no sign of a woman’s presence.

  Walking by the bathroom, she saw towels on the floor and a state of messiness that the rest of the house lacked. She flipped on the light and stepped back, horrified. There was blood everywhere—the counters, the sink, the floor. Towels blotched in red lay on the floor. A large pool of blood dripped off the counter to the linoleum. The shower curtain was closed and Nikki stood frozen to her spot at the door.

  Chapter 15

  Nikki gagged and clutched her belly.

  Oh, God. She had to get out of the house, run home, and phone Harold. Her heart pounded in her chest. Someone official would have to open that curtain.

  Could Pete be Shakespeare? Oh God.

  She backed up slowly, like she was in a slow motion dream.

  There was no trail of blood outside the bathroom door. Nikki spun around, noting the fastest way out of the house and turned to make a run for it. But just then, a small scraping noise came from the second bedroom.

  Her mind raced with possibilities. If Connie and Tony were in there still alive, hiding, she needed to open that door. Forcing herself to grab the knob, she turned it slowly and pushed.

  The curtains were drawn, the room dark. Bracing herself, Nikki flipped on the overhead light. This was the larger bedroom with a king-sized bed and two night tables on either side.

  At first glance, it looked normal. No blood. No half-dead body scraping its way across the floor. But, something inside the room had made a noise. Nikki held her breath and went to the closet, ready for the worst. Slowly, she slid back the paneled doors. The closet was empty except for two pillows on the top shelf and a small open suitcase on the floor. There were no bodies or body parts lying in blood pools on the linoleum floor.

  The scratching noise sounded again and she spun around to see a hamster in a cage on the dresser. She heaved a sigh of relief.

  Elsewhere, Tony’s books were piled on the closest nightstand and a romance novel sat on the far table. It looked like Connie and Tony shared this room. Moisturizer cream was open on the dresser beside the hamster cage and Tony’s Spiderman slippers under the bed’s edge. The unmade bed revealed two very distinct bodies, one short and one shorter. Connie didn’t sleep with Pete.

  Then she remembered the blood. Someone was critically injured. Or dead.

  There was nothing but dust under the bed and, satisfied for now, Nikki exited the bedroom and quickly headed for the kitchen door. The sound of a car made her jump. Through the window she saw the blue truck coming down the road to the house. When it stopped and slid in to its parking spot beside the deck, Pete opened the driver door. She panicked. He was back from whatever he just did. The possibility that Pete killed Connie and Tony and had just disposed of the bodies was her first thought. She wasn’t sure he wouldn’t try to kill her too. She had to get out of there.

  Oh God. Oh God.

  Adrenaline kicked in and she bolted for the back of the house. A car door slammed outside as she slipped out the back door, silently.

  With her heart hammering in her chest, she considered the possibilities if Pete saw her. He’d probably run faster than a pregnant woman. She had to have a smart plan if she wanted to escape this man.

  As soon as she knew he was inside the log house she’d get herself across the bridge then run through the cover of the trees to Birch House. He’d probably see her on one of those monitors but hopefully she’d be in her car by then, on her way to the FBI at the road.

  Creeping around to the house’s corner, Nikki waited to hear footsteps on the deck. Nothing. She held her breath.

  “Come on, Tony.” Pete said.

  Tony was alive?

  The house door opened. She’d forgotten to lock it. Pete would know someone had been inside.

  Footsteps ran across the deck.

  “Back to the truck, get inside, quick, and lock it.” Pete’s voice was short. “And get down until I come get you.”

  This was the voice Pete used when he thought his family was in danger. He’d guessed someone was in the house. She had to go now. Fast.

  Tony would be on the floor of the truck, waiting. Where was Connie? In the shower, dead? Nikki dashed to the far side of Pete’s truck. A terrified little boy was in there. She couldn’t run without him. She silently cracked open the door.

  “Tony?” she whispered. “It’s Nikki. Come with me. We’ll make a run for it.”

  “Nikki?”

  Connie’s voice! Nikki opened the door wider and peeked inside. “Connie?”

  “Get in, there’s an intruder in our house,” Connie hissed. They were crammed on the backseat floor, down as far as they could go.

  “No, that was me. I was checking on you guys and saw all the blood.”

  “What?”

  “Whose blood was that?”

  “That was you in our house?” Connie got up, one hand still on Tony’s back.

  “Yea. Whose blood was in the bathroom?”

  Tony lifted up a bandaged hand as he and Connie sat up.

  The sounds of putting two and two together were deafening.

  “Tony cut himself and we had to go to town for stitches.” Connie looked behind her, just as Pete flew around the side of the house.

  He stopped short when he saw the open driver door and drew his gun, aiming at Nikki’s head.

  “Don’t shoot me. I was in your house, snooping.”

  “It was only Nikki.” Connie shouted, climbing out of the truck.

  “Put your hands in the air, Nikki,” he yelled. His husky voice worked better when he yelled.

  In a matter of half a minute, she’d been reduced from valuable witness at a murder trial, to a snoopy neighbor and her priority had switched from escaping a killer, to not being labeled as crazy. “It’s just me, Pete.”

  Pete lowered the gun and motioned Connie and Tony inside. “Why did you break into our house?” He stood only a few feet from her, his eyes distrustful.

  “Well.” She was trying to buy time, sorting out what to tell him. “As a matter of fact, I was hoping you would ask me why I was in the house.” What could she say? She smelled blood? The truth was usually a good idea. She’d tell a portion of that. “I’ve been away and I thought you might have moved out so I came over. When no one answered the door, I thought the house was empty. If you’d been home, you’d have answered, especially because Connie and Tony never leave the house…” She paused and stared at him, like they were the weird ones.

  Pete didn’t flinch and Nikki continued. “I let myself in with my own key. The Dickersons like me to check on their place when they’re not here.�
� She hoped that would suffice but saw from Pete’s expression it wasn’t nearly good enough. His gaze bore into her and she lifted her chin higher. “When I saw blood in the bathroom, I didn’t know what to think. It looked like a crime scene.”

  He stared at her, his gaze softening slightly.

  “I heard a vehicle and ran out the back door, thinking I might be next.” She challenged him to find fault with the truth.

  Pete took a deep breath and shook his head like this was the final straw. He tucked his gun into the back of his jeans.

  “You can imagine how it looked,” she said.

  “God dammit, Nikki, you are a lot of work as a neighbor.” He sighed. “Come inside, you can see for yourself. Connie and Tony are fine.” They walked to the door and he held it open. “Connie? Can we offer Nikki a cup of tea now that we’ve scared her half to death?”

  Connie came out of the bathroom with a scrub brush and a pail of water. “What?”

  “I’m going to make Nikki a cup of tea. Where do we keep the tea bags?” Pete opened the kitchen cupboards. “She thought something terrible happened to you when she saw the blood.” He looked over to Nikki. “Sit down, you don’t look good.”

  Connie stood next to the bathroom door. She looked worse than Nikki felt. “Tea is above the stove in that jar.” Connie’s voice was robotic, her face drained of color. “I’ll be out in a minute.” She returned to the bathroom and Pete put the kettle on.

  Nikki didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry I snooped. What’s with all the equipment in your bedroom? Instead, she got the pressing question out of the way. “Tell me the truth. Are you FBI?”

  “God, no. Those guys are imbeciles.” He looked like he was almost smiling. Pete put a tea bag in a mug. “I thought you’d left the lake, Nikki.” He sounded almost relieved she hadn’t.

  Connie emerged from the bathroom, white as a sheet. She leaned against the door jamb and covered her mouth with her free hand, as though she might vomit. Pete went to her. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.” She started to sob.

  “Can’t what, Connie?” He took hold of her shoulders and stared into her eyes.

  “I just can’t, Pete. I can’t clean up the blood.” She sobbed louder and, dropping the mop on the floor, sank into Pete’s waiting arms.

  He rubbed her back soothingly and pulled her into him. “I’ll do it. Don’t go in there.” Pete held her tenderly as she cried into his chest. “You don’t have to look at it.”

  Nikki rose from the kitchen table quietly. It felt wrong to be an outside witness to this display of tenderness between them. Walking to the stove, she turned off the kettle and let herself out the door of the log house. She was in way too deep with the Bayers.

  ****

  A motorboat’s buzz broke through the afternoon silence. As it got louder, Nikki speculated that someone must be lost if they’d found their way near Half Moon Bay. Nikki rose from the couch and, gazing out the front window, saw one man in a rented aluminum boat aiming straight for her dock.

  Even with the binoculars, she didn’t recognize him. Not Harold. Ten feet out he threw the anchor over the side. He seemed to be contemplating what to do as he bobbed in the waves he’d created. He didn’t look like much of a boater. Photographers and reporters usually came in groups of two and he was alone.

  When he wasn’t looking, she lowered the front blinds then picked up the binoculars again. From the kitchen window she watched him take a black case from the floor of the boat, open it and extract something. Her heart sank as she realized what was in the case: a long lens camera.

  She was not alone, anymore.

  This was it—the moment she’d been dreading, and waiting for.

  “God dammit all to hell,” she whispered, just as the phone rang.

  “It’s Phyllis. They’ve found you, and if you don’t want to talk to them, you better get out of there fast.”

  “Too late. One is pointing his camera at my house this very minute.” She sank into the chair. “If they knew where I was, why did they wait this long?”

  “I don’t know but, according to what I’m reading right now, you were in Louisa Lake a few days ago at the doctor. Reporters are headed to the lake to take pictures of a possibly pregnant Goldy.”

  “Oh, no!” There was nothing Phyllis could do aside from issuing statements to throw them off the trail. “Tell them I’m out of the country, just in case it works.”

  When she looked outside again, Nikki was horrified to see two more boats anchoring and another one approaching. “Oh, my God, Phyllis, there’s four boats in my bay.” True, they were only press, not killers, but they were invading her life and she didn’t want to give in to them. Was the FBI still around?

  The fourth boat pulled up alongside the others. They’d probably rented boats at the marina after hearing the road was near impossible without four wheel drive.

  Glancing at the computer screen, she stopped in her tracks to see a photo of her in the brown wig getting into her SUV in town. Taken at the medical clinic, it showed her with an ultrasound picture in her hand. The caption read “Gold Found!”

  The wig was useless now.

  Could she still make a run for it? Putting Elvis in his traveling bag with his head sticking out, she slipped on her runners and grabbed the car keys hanging at the back door.

  A quick peek through the window before she opened the door revealed red and blue in the forest across the road. She squinted to see two men crouching in amongst the forest undergrowth. Was it the FBI agents? Her heart lifted, until she saw their cameras pointed at the very back door she’d almost walked through. She was trapped.

  “Dammit! Shit! Dammit!” Nikki stomped her feet and Elvis jumped out of the tote bag to escape her swearing tirade. “Sorry, Elvis,” she called. “Mommy’s happy now,” she said in a high, light voice.

  Her house was surrounded.

  What were the options? The only way out was to let them photograph her. They’d get a shot as she ran to her car, like a criminal. She could wear a coat over her head, jump in her car and race down the old roads, hoping to out run them. They’d follow her to Seattle probably, all the way to Quinn’s.

  And they’d win after all she’d done to keep the press at bay. She’d bought herself seven weeks. The idea of surrender sat heavily on her chest as she glanced over to the computer screen. “Gold Found.” Someone had circled her wig and written “Real hair? I think not,” and circled her tummy with the words “Baby bump? I think so.”

  “God dammit.”

  Someone in town had taken a photo of her that had been blown up to a grainy depiction. Even the ultrasound in her hand had been zoomed in on to invasive proportions. Who would do that in town? She hardly knew anyone besides Harold. Then a thought came to mind. She’d call Harold and see if he could escort her out of this mess. Maybe he could get the press to back off enough for her to get to her car, without being photographed.

  Harold didn’t pick up his phone so she left a message for him to call her at the house. Her vivid imagination had Harold tied up, surrounded by press in his little office, everyone waiting for Goldy to call.

  Gateman hadn’t responded either, so now it was a matter of waiting. She’d do her hair and makeup just in case she was photographed. As she stared at the heating curlers in her bathroom, Nikki considered a float plane. Just getting to the plane, she’d be photographed. Besides, it was dusk and she doubted that float planes flew in the dark. A quick glance revealed that several more men had arrived on foot and were now scattered in groups at the side of her road. Good God, did they not have anything else to report this week?

  At least there were no cars or news vans. Nikki was glad Pete had been locking the gate lately. The press vehicles were probably half a mile back at the gate, which could be good if she sped by them in her car. They wouldn’t make it back in time to follow her. Then she remembered that she’d have to get out of her car to unlock the gate. If she could just fin
d Harold, she could ask him if the reporters could be taken to jail for trespassing.

  Nikki stared at the phone, willing it to ring, as she put curlers in her hair. On a whim, she tried to call the Dickerson house and got a recording that it was disconnected. That made sense. What was she going to say to the Bayers anyhow? “Oh, just so you know…those boats and the people lurking in the woods are after me.” They knew.

  Finally, Gateman called back to say their agents were standing by to help her leave. Just say the word.

  When her hair and makeup were photo-ready, Nikki changed into her jeans and sat on the bed thinking about her escape. Should she wait another hour for darkness to set in? It was cold at night now. Maybe the reporters would go back to town to sleep or just give up. She could make a run for it then. And hope she wasn’t tailed. Shit.

  The upstairs bathroom afforded her a view to a portion of the road she couldn’t see from anywhere else, and when she peeked out, what she saw was not good news. The road had filled up with reporters carrying flashlights. The colors through the trees made it look like someone was having a cocktail party on her dirt road. Except the party-goers all had cameras, very expensive cameras with long lenses, in case Goldy should come out her back door.

  Some jerk was looking at his camera using the flame from a lighter. An open flame in the woods. This was getting out of hand now. She wished they’d just let it go. But they would never do that. This was their livelihood and many of them had small mouths to feed back home. Beyond the need to make money, Nikki understood the thrill of the chase and the feeling of victory when they got a good shot of her.

  She leaned against the side of the window frame, feeling like the prisoner she’d made herself. With one protective hand on her tummy, she imagined sneaking through the trees in the dark to the main road. Harold could pick her up and put her in the jail for the night. No one would look for her there. But even if she got out the deck door without detection, how would she see to run through the trees? If they saw someone making a run for it with a flashlight, they’d chase her. She’d walk out the door in another hour, if they didn’t leave, give them their picture and hope no one followed her God-knows-where.