Perfect Partners?

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Perfect Partners? Page 18

by C. J. Carmichael


  “Thanks.” She tried to peer out one of the windows but they were covered in condensation. Using the edge of her blanket, she wiped off the passenger side. Outside she saw nothing but trees and underbrush. She edged open the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To use the facilities.” She stepped out onto damp ground matted with spruce needles and dead leaves. She moved along the spongy surface, slipping between tree branches, deeper into the woods. When she could no longer see the car, she relieved herself, then used her travel bottle of hand sanitizer.

  Light seeped out from the east, a colorless beginning to a cloudy day. She went still and listened carefully, but no sounds emerged from either the lodge or the guest cabin.

  Back in the car, Nathan had set out a breakfast, of sorts. Tetra boxes of orange juice and cranberry granola bars. She ate because she needed to, forcing the food into a stomach that was churning with anticipation and nerves.

  They had no idea what Maurice and Paige were up to. All they knew was that something would happen and they had to be prepared in case intervention was required. They both had their phones charged and in their pockets. Nathan turned the radio on quietly and they listened to a forecast that called for warmer temperatures and sunshine.

  “Did you bring your gun?” Nathan asked at one point.

  “No.” The question alarmed her. She almost never took her gun out of the locked drawer where she kept it. “Did you?”

  He shook his head in the negative. “I gave it up when I quit the force.”

  The minutes seemed to tick by interminably. Finally, after about an hour, they heard sounds from the lodge. Audrey called out something and Maurice replied, his voice a low mumble. Fifteen minutes later the smell of coffee wafted out into the woods.

  Lindsay groaned quietly. Their mugs of take-out coffee were long gone and so was every last drop of the tea. She glanced at Nathan and knew he was longing for the same thing she was.

  “We need to take our mind off the aroma of that coffee,” she said.

  “Sex might do it.”

  His suggestion made her feel instantly hot, a reaction she tried to downplay. “Very funny.”

  “Or how about this?” He pulled a bar of dark chocolate from his pocket. “Not as good as sex, but it has caffeine.”

  She accepted a hunk gratefully. “Now that they’re awake, we need to move within sight of the lodge.”

  He nodded, then exited the vehicle quietly. She followed, fighting back the competitive urge to take the lead. He’d been here before, was familiar with the layout. This time it made sense for him go first.

  He pushed his way through the trees and shrubbery, pausing after a few minutes for her to catch up, then removing the last square of chocolate from the foil wrappings. “Want this?”

  Not able to resist, she held out her hand. “You thought of everything, didn’t you?”

  “I try to plan for every contingency. For instance, if one of us is bitten by a poisonous snake, I’ve got my first-aid kit in my backpack.”

  Just as he said that, something rustled in the underbrush. She grabbed for his arm.

  “Probably a mouse,” Nathan said.

  “Good.” She had no problem with mice.

  “Although this is perfect habitat for copperheads,” he added.

  She hesitated, one foot poised in the air. “You’re trying to scare me.”

  “It’s a fact. Copperheads account for the highest percentage of venomous snake bites in New York State.” Then without another word, he started moving forward again.

  Her sporty black running shoes had seemed sturdy enough yesterday when she was dressing. Now she wished she’d worn her hiking boots. She scanned the undergrowth around them wondering what sort of creatures were concealed within.

  “You okay?” Nathan had turned back to look at her.

  She swallowed through her paralyzing fear, and chastised herself. What was she going to do? Give up and go back to the city because she was afraid of snakes?

  She kept walking. Nathan nodded approvingly, then resumed picking out the trail.

  The woods were moist and dank. It must have rained during the short stretch when she’d been sleeping, which was a good thing as nothing would have revealed their presence more quickly than the crunch of leaves and sticks under their feet.

  After a few minutes they had gained enough ground to see the main lodge. The log building was built ranch-style with a decorative old wagon wheel out front and a wooden porch running the length of the east-facing wall. The morning sun shone warmly on the porch with its old-fashioned wicker furniture. Besides a table and four chairs, there was also a cushioned sofa and several footrests.

  “Nice place.”

  “Looks rustic, but trust me, they have every convenience inside. Including a propane heater for the porch.”

  “That sounds nice,” Lindsay said, trying not to shiver.

  Nathan touched her arm. “Let’s get a little closer.”

  Again she followed, until they reached a shed that appeared to be used for storing firewood. Just as she recognized the woodsy scent of burning hickory, Lindsay noticed a trail of smoke escaping from the lodge’s stone chimney.

  She hugged her chilled body and scoped the area. This was a good hiding spot. Through a thick screening of shrubbery, they had a view of the porch and also the main doors to the lodge and the guest cabin.

  Nathan settled onto a large stump, obviously used as a chopping block, and patted the space beside him. “Might as well get comfortable. We may be here awhile.”

  She hesitated, but there wasn’t another dry place to sit. After pulling out her binoculars, she joined him on the seat, then set about adjusting the focus knob. With the binoculars she could see the pattern on the cushions and the individual strands of the woven wicker. But there was nothing of interest going on yet.

  “See anything?”

  “Not much.” She let the binoculars rest on her thighs, then gazed around at the woods, looking everywhere but the one place she didn’t dare—at Nathan.

  For as crazy as he made her feel, she had to admit that there was no one she’d rather have with her right now. They had more talking to do, once this was over.

  She lowered her gaze to the ground, which was flat and packed with sawdust. No hiding spaces here for snakes, thank goodness. The woods were quiet at this time of the year. Most birds had migrated, though in the distance she could see a crow swooping arcs above the treetops before finally settling on a safe perch at the top of a gothic-looking spruce.

  Despite the quiet surroundings, her heart was hammering against her chest—too fast and too loud. She could feel the sheen of sweat on her fingers as she picked up her binoculars for another look.

  Beside her Nathan appeared calm and focused. Their awkward night together hadn’t seemed to faze him. He leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs, and squinted into the distance. “Is that…?”

  “What?” She was immediately on edge, adjusting the binoculars, trying to figure out where to train them.

  He tilted his head. “Is that bacon I smell?”

  “Bacon?” She lowered the glasses and glared at him. “I thought you saw something important.”

  He returned her scowl with a relaxed grin. “Settle down, Fox. Odds are we’ll have to wait until they’re finished eating before anything happens. How about when we’re done here we head into Hudson for some breakfast? I could really go for a three-egg omelet and about a gallon of fresh coffee.”

  “And hash browns,” she added. “And fresh squeezed orange juice. Not that reconstituted crap in the b—Oh—look.” She pointed in the direction of the guesthouse, then checked the view through the glasses.

  Paige Stevens had just stepped out of the guesthouse. Her flamboyant hair had been tamed into a ponytail and she was wearing jeans and a dark sweater. More important, she had a shotgun in her hands.

  “Holy crap, Fisher. What do you think she’s doing?” Lindsay focused in
on the shotgun.

  Nathan was at her side, leaning in close as if he wanted a look, too. She passed him the glasses. “The original shotgun—the one Audrey supposedly used to shoot Maurice—would have been confiscated by the police,” he said. “I wonder where she got that one?”

  “Maybe it’s new?”

  Nathan crept forward on his knees, careful to remain hidden amid the branches, as he angled for a better view. “She’s hiding the shotgun under the cushions on the sofa.”

  Lindsay swore. “What are they up to?” She inched beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady herself. Having secreted the gun under the seat cushion, Paige was now creeping back to the guesthouse.

  “Nathan, we’ve got to warn Audrey. Do you think we could get to the porch without being seen?”

  “No way. The Burchards eat breakfast in the kitchen, which overlooks this shed. We can’t see them because of the glare on the windows, but if we step out from these bushes, they’ll definitely see us.”

  He pulled out his phone. “I have a number for the landline to the lodge. I’ll call Audrey and warn her to get out of there.”

  As he dialed the number, the front door to the lodge opened. Audrey, carrying a tray with two mugs of coffee and a carafe, stepped out to the porch, her husband right behind her. They were both dressed casually in sweaters and jeans, and they were talking. Their words carried faintly through the trees.

  “That was a delicious breakfast, Audrey, thanks.” Maurice settled onto the sofa.

  “Can we talk now?”

  The phone inside the lodge started ringing. Both of them turned their heads.

  “I’ll go get that—” Audrey began.

  Her husband put a hand on her arm. “Just leave it.”

  She hesitated then nodded. “Fine.”

  Nathan and Lindsay exchanged disappointed looks, then Nathan disconnected the call. They watched as Audrey poured coffee from the carafe into each of the cups then went to sit beside her husband on the sofa. He shifted more to the center. “Why don’t you sit on the chair, dear? You’ll have a better view. Look at the colors on those hills. I thought the leaves would be gone by now.”

  “We need to call the cops,” Nathan whispered urgently into Lindsay’s ear. “He’s sitting right on top of the gun. He has to feel it.”

  “He already knew it would be there,” Lindsay surmised.

  Nathan dialed the number for emergency. “I’d like to report a domestic disturbance. Let them know that there is a gun on the premises.” He provided directions from the main highway to the lodge and when he was done, he slipped the phone into his shirt pocket. “It’ll be at least half an hour before they get here. But I don’t see what else we can do.”

  “We need to move closer,” Lindsay said. “Circle round and sneak up from the back.”

  “Lindsay, we don’t have a gun. I’m not letting you get any closer than this.”

  “That gun isn’t there for looks, Nathan. Maurice plans to use it. And I’m not going to sit here and watch him kill Audrey. So…do you have another plan or are you going to help me find a route to the back of the lodge?”

  Nathan looked angry enough to fire bullets himself but in the end he just nodded curtly, then started to move. Lindsay hurried to keep up with him as he circled the back of the shed and into the thick shrubbery. They hiked as quickly as they dared, crouched low and careful to avoid any sticks or loose stones. They had to cut a wide circle to avoid being seen—which meant their progress was slow.

  Lindsay realized her breathing was becoming too fast, too shallow. She forced herself to stop panicking. “Relax. You can handle this,” she muttered to herself, even though she was far from certain that she could.

  Real life private investigating was not like TV. She’d never encountered a situation requiring a gun in her private practice before and while she owned one, had never considered carrying it along when she was on a case.

  Finally she and Nathan were behind the lodge. Thank goodness the Burchards had kept the property in its natural state so there was no open lawn, no manicured garden. The wild undergrowth continued right up to a dirt path that circled the house. She and Nathan crept along until they were at the south side of the property.

  They both froze when Maurice started speaking again. “There’s something I haven’t told you, Audrey.”

  Lindsay gazed at Nathan, and waited, breathless. Was Maurice about to confess his affair? Dimly she recognized the fact that her upper arm hurt. She looked down to see that Nathan had taken a firm hold of it. She tried to shake him off, but he only held her tighter.

  “Let go of me,” she whispered angrily.

  He put a finger to his lips for her to be quiet.

  “That big commercial real estate project I did last year?” Maurice said. “It’s a bust. I’ve lost all my money.”

  “What happened? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “What was the point? There was nothing you could do.”

  “I could have lent you some money.”

  “A man can’t borrow money from his wife if he intends to divorce her.”

  There was a deep, painful silence. Then Audrey found her voice. “You didn’t bring me here because you wanted a reconciliation.”

  “No. I’m sorry it has to end this way. But you see, I don’t have a choice.”

  Maurice’s voice was utterly devoid of affection. Lindsay’s fear turned to dread. “We have to help Audrey,” she whispered to Nathan.

  “Maurice has a gun,” Nathan reminded her. “We’re not cops anymore. Officially we’re trespassing. You could lose your license over this.”

  She didn’t care about that, but Lindsay gave up arguing with him as Audrey began to speak again. “If you still want a divorce,” her voice quavered, then grew strong again, “we didn’t need to drive all this way to talk about it.”

  “You don’t get it. What I’m trying to say is that I can’t afford to divorce you.”

  “What are you suggesting then?” Audrey was silent a moment, then continued, her tone disapproving. “If you’re thinking we can stay married but live separate lives, then you can forget about it. Have your lawyer call my—”

  She stopped talking so abruptly that Lindsay was afraid for her. Had Maurice hurt her?

  Again she strained against Nathan’s hold, and this time he pulled her against his hard chest. She put out a hand to push him away, but froze at the sound of Audrey’s voice.

  “Who are you?” Audrey demanded angrily. “Maurice, who is this woman?”

  Lindsay looked at Nathan. He mouthed, “Paige Stevens,” and she nodded. The other woman must have left the guest cottage. Why now? Was this part of the plan?

  “She’s your mistress, isn’t she?” Audrey’s voice was turning hysterical. “Maurice? What is going on here? You’re scaring me. And what are you doing with those cushions? What’s back there?”

  Lindsay couldn’t stand it anymore. The police hadn’t arrived, couldn’t possibly arrive for at least fifteen more minutes. Right this second Maurice was reaching for the hidden gun, she was sure of it. She couldn’t let this happen.

  Using her hip as a pivot point, she executed a judo throw that unbalanced Nathan, breaking his hold on her, and landing him in the dirt. As soon as she was free, she started to run.

  “Lindsay, stop!” Nathan hissed at her, scrambling to his feet.

  “I can’t.”

  She had no plan, but she knew that Maurice did and she was not going to let him execute it.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  AS SHE ROUNDED THE CORNER, the first person Lindsay saw was Paige Stevens. Maurice’s lover was halfway between the guest cottage and the porch, where the Burchards had been taking their coffee. Audrey had left her chair and was now standing by the railing, while Maurice remained on the cushioned sofa, hands tucked under the cushions as he tried to grasp the unwieldy shotgun.

  All three of them froze at the sight of her. Paige Stevens was the first to recover.
“I’ve seen you before. You were the woman in the restaurant. Who took my purse…”

  “She’s the investigator my daughter hired.” Maurice swore. He’d finally managed to pull out the weapon Paige had hidden earlier and now he cradled it in both hands. “What in God’s name are you doing here? Celia promised me she’d called you off.”

  “Well, I’m here now and you’ve got bigger problems on their way.” Lindsay glanced at her watch, hoping they couldn’t see how badly she was trembling. Nathan had been right. She posed no threat to a man holding a gun. All she could do was try to bluff her way out of the situation.

  “I called the cops,” she announced, trying to sound confident. “They’ll be here any minute.”

  Maurice swore again, but Paige remained cool. “That’s okay, we can still handle this. Maurice, you’ll say your wife shot her first, then loaded the gun again and turned it on you. You wrestled the weapon from her hands and it accidentally discharged. Our plan will still work, but we have to act fast.”

  Audrey’s face turned whiter with each word Paige uttered. Now she leaned heavily on the railing for support as she turned betrayed eyes toward the man she’d married.

  “This can’t be happening. Maurice, look at me.”

  But he wouldn’t. Or couldn’t. He tightened his grip on the shotgun as Paige continued to give him instructions.

  “We have to stay calm,” the redhead said. “We’ve got too much at stake not to follow through. All these months of planning have led to this. Don’t be afraid, Maurice. You can do it.”

  “Months of planning?” Audrey sounded helplessly confused, but Lindsay wasn’t.

  “This started last August, didn’t it?” she said. “Audrey the reason you don’t remember shooting your husband is because you didn’t. The whole scenario was staged. Maurice wounded himself, or possibly his lover, Paige Stevens, helped him with that little task.”

  As she talked, she noticed Nathan sneaking up from the opposite side of the building. He must have crept around back. God, he must be furious at her for landing them in this mess. She wished she could tell him to wait for the cops. The last thing she wanted was for him to get hurt, too.

 

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