Now You See Her

by Paul J. Teague

  Keeping low, Cory skirted around the far end of the picnic area, then made his way up the small steps built into the hill. He reached the top, checked that the coast was clear, and darted across to the opposite side of the road. He wanted to work his way around Devil's Corner to the place where he and Bianca had stopped in the dark when she'd spotted the campfire. It was away from the emergency services, too. They'd figure it out soon enough, but he wanted a head start.

  As he walked around the bend of Devil's Corner, he thought about Reece Norman and the fire at her trailer. And the more he worked through the permutations, he decided they'd all missed the one piece that connected everything. In Cory's mind, there was only one person who could be responsible for bringing this all together. If he'd guessed right, he'd have to proceed with great care.

  As he neared the last bend at Devil's Corner, the beams from a car's headlights appeared behind him and he heard the roar of an engine approaching at some speed. Cory moved off the asphalt and onto the small grass verge to duck out of the way. The car passed clear of the parking lot then pulled over to the left side of the road, about two hundred yards ahead of Cory. The driver had dimmed the headlights passing the falls, quick to kill the engine and turn off the lights once he was off the road.

  Cory got closer so he could take a look at the driver, but he knew who it was before the door even opened. Even though it was dark, he could see its red trim and had heard the distinctive growl of the double exhausts. It was Dean Tarrant.

  He got out of the car and pulled out two bags which Cory could see were packed to the brim with groceries. As he moved to cross over the road, Cory stood on a twig. The snapping of wood sounded like a cymbal crashing in the silence of the woodland.

  ‘Who's there?’ Tarrant called out. ‘Is that you, Shannon?’

  Cory stood still. He gulped, loud enough in the silence to wake up the dead.

  ‘I know there's someone there,’ Dean said, placing the bags at the road side and readying his fists.

  ‘The game's up, Dean,’ Cory said, deciding to chance it. ‘I know you've got Bianca out here. I know this is where Poppy is.’

  ‘Cory Miles… or Mr. Scoop, as I like to call you…’

  Dean walked over to where Cory was standing, arms flexed and fists clenched, ready for a fight.

  Cory stood firm.

  ‘Well, it looks like I just got my front-page story. Police Chief's son abducts teenage girl. I bet that'll sell a few newspapers.’

  ‘You know what, Mr. Scoop? You're a pain in the ass. You don't have a clue what's going on right under your own nose. And you don't take warnings very well, either, do you? A brick through the window, a visit to your boy on the playground--’

  ‘Was that you, you prick?’

  ‘Yes and no. It was Shallow Fall's favorite drunk, Spencer Jones. But yes, I sent him out there. Amazing what a man like Spencer Jones will do for a free beer.’

  Cory felt his anger rising once again. This young idiot had threatened his son and sent a brick hurtling through his window. There were no witnesses; it was Tarrant's word against his. It was time his ass got a kicking.

  But Tarrant was rushing right at him, eyes blazing with fury. He raised his right arm and pounded his fist into the side of Cory's head as if he was a punching bag. It floored Cory immediately, and he crashed onto the asphalt.

  Dean swung back his foot, and Cory convulsed in pain as the heavy boot smacked into his body three times.

  ‘You're too old for it, Mr. Scoop, you should stick to frightening old ladies.’

  Dean readied his foot for another blow. Cory knew he had to be quick this time; if he couldn't get Dean down on the ground, he'd never stand a chance of overcoming him. As Dean's foot came toward him, Cory caught it with his hands, twisting it hard. Dean howled in agony and crashed to the ground. Cory was about to leap at him when a car's headlights reared up from the direction of Westview.

  The driver only just registered them in time, swerving at the last minute and screeching to a stop just in front of them. It was a female driver. She was sufficiently angry to shout abuse at them, but not so stupid as to get out of her car to deliver her message.

  ‘You damn morons,’ she cursed. ‘Get out the road and back into the woods with the animals, where you belong.’

  She roared off into the night, leaving Dean nursing his twisted ankle in the middle of the road and Cory desperately trying to catch his breath, having been winded by the violent kicks.

  Dean was up on his feet too soon, limping badly but still approaching with the force of a rhino, ready to finish him off. Cory was still down on the ground, retreating fast, backing up along the road to buy enough time to get back on his feet. He reached the two bags that Dean had abandoned at the roadside. Unable to find the momentum to get on his feet, Cory knew he had to do something. Dean was charging at him now, a twisted ankle barely reducing his speed.

  In desperation, Cory fumbled in the shopping bags for something to throw. His hand found a large can and as Dean moved up close to pound his fists into Cory’s head, he smashed the edge of the can against his knee. Dean crumpled, howling with pain.

  That was Cory's moment. If he didn't strike now, he'd never take Dean down. He lifted up the now-dented can as high as he could and crashed it against the side of Dean's skull, watching as he dropped to the ground. Cory waited to make sure he was down.

  Without warning, Dean raised his head off the asphalt as if he was just about to get up. Cory lifted the can one last time and threw it at Dean's head. It bounced right off and Dean’s head dropped flat to the ground. He was completely still.

  Cory moved off the road and onto the grass strip that bordered the woodland. He rested for a moment, looking out into the darkness of the trees. And then he saw it; a single flame, the light of a campfire. If his hunch was right, that's where he'd find Bianca. And if he was lucky, Poppy would be there, too.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  When he'd finally managed to drag himself back up to his feet, Cory walked over to Dean, who was motionless and out cold. He felt for a pulse; he was still alive. That was a relief; he’d meant to stop Tarrant, but he had no intention of killing him.

  He took Dean's limp arms and pulled him over onto the roadside, well clear of any danger from passing vehicles. He hadn't a clue how long he would stay down, and he wasn’t going to hang around long enough to find out. He rushed off into the woods, losing his grip on the flashlight and dropping it, making directly for the flames.

  The scratches from the low branches were a minor annoyance now, compared to the searing pain he felt in his head and rib cage. Dean Tarrant could pack some punch. Slowly and quietly, he made his way towards the campfire. As he drew closer, Cory thought about how Bianca must have startled whoever was out there. He had to take care not to do the same. He decided to pull himself along the ground slowly, staying low, taking his time.

  Soon, he was only yards away from where the camp had been set up. He almost gasped when he saw who was there.

  Tied to a tree, blindfolded, and with gray tape tying her hands and covering her mouth, was Bianca. Her hair was disheveled, and her clothes were soiled and torn, but she was alive. At a safe distance from the campfire was a tent, and somebody was inside. They were singing, as if in a world of their own. It was a child's voice: Poppy!

  So, he'd been right in his hunch. Cory couldn't figure out how the planning issues were caught up with Poppy's disappearance. But then he'd realized how when he was quizzing Louise on the stairs to the cells.

  The reason nobody knew who’d snatched Poppy was because she hadn't made a fuss. There was no screaming, no violence, no scene. She'd just walked off perfectly happily, disappearing without a trace. He'd been worrying at the problem constantly all week: who would a child walk off with like that?

  Now, the answer was sitting on a camping stool right in front of him. It was Poppy's father, Reece Norman's ex-partner. The soldier who'd gone AWOL. Walking up those stairs from the ce
ll, he'd known—it had to be Harry Shannon, the only man who could take a small deaf child into the woods so that she was comfortable enough around him to play happily in a two-person tent with her new doll, thinking the entire experience was one big adventure.

  And there was Dean Tarrant, bringing in supplies. Of course—he would know Harry Shannon; they were both young men on the way up, seeing their opportunity with Reece's land. He hadn't quite figured out how it all linked in, but he was right—Harry Shannon had taken Poppy. Even more important, she was alive.

  Shannon had given the game away with the dress. It hadn't been abandoned—it had been drying on the tree. When it had mysteriously disappeared after Louise dispatched the officers to retrieve it, that was just Harry covering his tracks. Cory had got a grasp of it now. All he had to do was to figure out how to get Poppy and Bianca out safely.

  He was lying flat behind a bush, watching. Bianca was intently rubbing her bindings against the side of the tree. Good for her—she was still putting up a fight. After thinking it through, Cory could come up with no better option than letting the police deal with it. He knew where they were and that they were safe. If the police took it carefully and didn't spook Harry Shannon, this could all end well. Then his great plan got screwed.

  ‘You've gotta get out of here.’

  Cory stayed low behind the bush, recognizing the voice. It was Dean Tarrant, come back to screw him up some more.

  Harry Shannon jumped up. Poppy carried on playing, unable to hear the sound. Cory had to remind himself that she wouldn’t be able to work out what was going on if things kicked off. She'd scare easily.

  ‘What the hell?’ Shannon said.

  ‘There's some dick of a reporter causing trouble out here.’

  ‘Damn man, did he do that to your head?’

  Cory watched as Bianca began to struggle. She'd heard Tarrant's voice. That was her own bogeyman, come to get her.

  ‘We have to finish the girl,’ Tarrant said.

  Harry Shannon was startled.

  ‘Hey, you said nobody would get hurt.’

  ‘What the hell did you think would happen?’ Dean snapped at him. ‘You want to make that amount of money, you do whatever it takes. I did all the dirty work: Imogen Franklin, Councilor Ingram, plus a bit of arson here and there. Oh, and I'd have taken care of Mr. Scoop if he didn't keep getting away from me. Now Bianca has to go, and you need some skin in the game.’

  ‘No way,’ Harry Shannon shouted. ‘You said I only had to take Poppy for a while and apply a bit of pressure on Reece to get her to sign off the land. I'm no killer, man. I ain't killing the girl.’

  ‘You damn pussy. You want your share of the million dollars, you need to get your hands dirty,’ Dean seethed at him. He stormed toward Bianca, grabbed her arms, and pulled her to her feet.

  Cory had to intervene now.

  ‘That's enough, Dean! It's over.’

  As Cory stood up, he heard a click from Harry Shannon's direction. Harry was pointing a pistol at him with a shaky hand.

  ‘Step back,’ he shouted at Cory. ‘And you, Dean, leave the girl. I said you shouldn't have brought her here. What the hell were you thinking?’

  ‘Man up, Harry,’ Dean shouted.

  Cory stood still, trying to get the measure of Harry Shannon. He seemed unstable and erratic.

  Poppy had come out of the tent now, getting upset at what was going on. Harry signed some words to her, and she began to walk over to him. Dean moved fast and with the ease of a giant, he grabbed Poppy by her waist and moved her to stand directly in front of him. He placed his hands around her neck and began to squeeze. Poppy started to struggle, but he held his hands firm so that she couldn’t move.

  Harry Shannon panicked.

  ‘You leave her alone—keep her out of this,’ he screamed, waving the gun around.

  ‘You kill the girl and finish Mr. Scoop over there. Then you get to keep your daughter. You don't get your hands on Reece's land without dancing with the devil.’

  Harry Shannon looked like a man having a breakdown. He moved the gun, waving it back and forth between Bianca and Cory. By the time his finger began to squeeze the trigger, he was pointing the weapon directly at Bianca.

  ‘No,’ Cory shouted.

  Harry pivoted and aimed the gun directly at Dean's chest. He fired, and Dean released Poppy instantly, rearing back and crumpling to the ground.

  Poppy ran to Harry, who put his spare arm around her.

  ‘Get Tarrant's car keys,’ Harry ordered Cory.

  ‘You can still walk away from this, Harry,’ Cory told him. He watched as Bianca struggled to free herself. It must have been petrifying, hearing it all play out without being able to see what was happening.

  ‘Do it,’ Harry commanded.

  Cory walked over to Tarrant, found his keys, and threw them over to Harry.

  ‘Now listen to me,’ Harry shouted, like a man struggling to control himself. ‘I'm taking Poppy and we're driving away from here…’

  ‘Did you know he torched Reece's trailer?’ Cory said.

  ‘What?’ Harry seemed confused.

  ‘Dean Tarrant, or his henchmen, at least, tried to murder Reece Norman and her other children tonight. Are you that desperate to get your hands on her money, Harry?’

  ‘What? No… it wasn't supposed to play out like this. Take Poppy, Reece caves and signs the documents, and we'll get the money, that's what he said. You're lying. You're trying to get inside my head.’

  Harry was waving the gun at him, his finger tensing on the trigger again. The gun went off. Cory heard the sound but didn't realize the bullet had hit him until he fell to the ground, crashing down onto the leaf-covered soil as everything went silent.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  It took Cory a couple of minutes to regain consciousness. The pain at the side of his arm was intense, his blood-soaked sleeve signalling the site of the gunshot wound. His head felt heavy and his stomach was sore from the kicking he'd endured.

  Fragment by fragment, Cory's mind focused on the situation. He could still move his hand; it hurt like hell, but it wasn't going to take him down. Dean Tarrant was still flat out on the ground, possibly dead. And Bianca was still blindfolded and tied to the tree.

  Cory opened his eyes and lifted his head. Harry Shannon had taken Poppy and they were running through the woods, making for Dean’s car. He didn't know how long he'd been out. A few seconds? Minutes? It could be half an hour as far as he knew. No, the fire hadn’t gone down, so Harry didn't have that much of a head start.

  Although Harry Shannon appeared to have no love of Army life, he'd certainly managed to pick up some core skills while he was serving. He knew how to survive and stay low, for instance, already showing himself adept at avoiding detection in the woods. It appeared he also had a good relationship with his daughter: Cory had seen him signing with her and she'd appeared quite comfortable in the tent, until things had started to go south when Dean arrived.

  If Harry took Dean's car, he’d have an advantage over the police. Would he disappear into the night again, taking Poppy with him this time? Cory couldn't allow that.

  He pushed himself up, slowly and awkwardly. His legs were still working, but he was severely bruised from the fight and the pain was intense.

  Cory rushed over to Bianca, who flinched when she heard the sound of movement immediately to her side.

  ‘Bianca, it's me. I'm getting you out of here.’

  Cory removed the covering from her head and saw the look of relief on her face at being able to see at last. With her eyes, she urged him to remove the tape from her mouth.

  ‘I'm going to pull it off as slowly as I can, but this will hurt.’

  Cory began to peel the tape. Bianca started to speak before it was even fully off.

  ‘Where's Poppy, Cory—is she safe?’

  ‘She's with Harry—they've gone running off into the woods. Are you okay, Bianca? Your wrists are chafed from the tape.’

  ‘I
'm fine—quick, get it off.’

  Cory moved his fingers as fast as he could, tearing at the tape and ripping it away to free her hands.

  Bianca looked into his eyes.

  ‘We need to be careful—Chief Tarrant is in on this, too.’

  ‘You're kidding me? How?’

  ‘Money problems. Something to do with his mom needing care. That's what this is all about. Harry and Dean seem to know each other from when Harry was living with Reece. They’re former drinking buddies, as far as I can tell, with Spencer Jones. They've been working on this for some time. Councilor Ingram was in on it, too, but he was having conscience issues from what I heard—he was going to blow the entire plot wide open.’

  ‘I can't believe this is happening in Shallow Falls. It's a sleepy American town, for God's sake. Things like this don't happen here.’

  ‘Harry's no killer. He's actually a pretty good dad with Poppy—she likes him.’

  ‘Tell that to Dean Tarrant,’ Cory said, indicating his body on the far side of the fire. As if taking his cue, Tarrant began to stir.

  ‘I have to get to Poppy. Can you get Dean secured with these ropes before he comes around? Move fast, Bianca—he's strong as an ox.’

  ‘I will. And you take care. If Chief Tarrant has Harry Shannon shot, he can pin this entire thing on him. He and Dean can cover it up and make Harry the scapegoat. Harry needs to stay alive—don't let them shoot him as a fugitive.’

  ‘I have to go,’ Cory said, looking over at Dean, worrying that he might be putting Bianca in danger. He looked like he was still out, but movement wasn’t good yet.

  But Bianca was right. Harry looked like he was in over his head. And with the cops at Chief Tarrant's beck and call, he'd be able to pin everything on Harry Shannon. Even Spencer Jones would be easy to stitch up if they needed to finger the brains behind the entire scam. But for Poppy's sake, too, he needed to make sure that she grew up with her father around as much as possible.