Tall Pines Mysteries: A Mystery/Suspense Boxed Set

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Tall Pines Mysteries: A Mystery/Suspense Boxed Set Page 79

by Aaron Paul Lazar


  We listened while she made her call, then grew silent for the rest of the trip. I couldn’t help but wonder about Ginny and Aria, and now I pictured them with this Marcus, or Chet, or whatever his name was.

  A convicted rapist.

  Good Lord…

  There was another faceless man in the picture. The second man. Was Marcus the murderer? Or did the second guy do the killing?

  I shuddered and hugged myself. It was a nasty business. A very nasty business.

  I looked out the window at the snowy landscape below, shivering in spite of the warmth of the cab. A stab of guilt sliced through me.

  What the hell did I do in that cave? What’s wrong with me? Has the cold scrambled my brain?

  We passed over Lake Pleasant, and I wondered if Quinn was still at the motel.

  Chapter 24

  Callie, Sky and I sat in a conference room with Copper, McCann, a few agents, and two doctors and nurses. Callie sat between her brother and me, holding our hands as if she’d never let go. She’d cried and hugged us for a long time when we reunited.

  I tapped my foot on the floor. Feeling grimy, I really craved a shower. My hair looked horrible. I had no purse. No brush. No handi-wipes. I’d visited the restroom and tried to clean up a little with Callie’s help, but it was useless. I looked exactly like a woman who’d slept in a cave and been caught in a snowstorm. There was no getting away from it.

  We’d had coffee and Danish, but I really wanted some eggs and juice. And I figured I must reek. I was wearing yesterday’s clothes that I’d sweated in under the heavy layers of the snowsuit. My feet and hands still tingled once in a while, but the doctor at Project Hope had examined both of us briefly and pronounced us fit. I tried to listen to McCann, but my mind kept wandering to what happened in that cave. I couldn’t get the scene out of my head.

  What had I been thinking?

  McCann had interviewed Sky and me, and harped on the tracks we’d followed. He repeated three times, “You’re sure there were three people involved?”

  Sky had calmly responded, reminding McCann that he’d been in the war for years and tracking in the sand had been his specialty. Snow was a slam-dunk, almost too easy, he’d said, and he was certain there were two men and one person being dragged or half-carried with them. “Both of them wore at least a size eleven shoe. Maybe size twelve. At one point, the prints from one of them deepened and the drag marks disappeared. I think he carried Ginny for a short distance, just before they got to their vehicle.”

  Of course all the prints had been obliterated by the time the officials made their way into the woods. They had to rely on Sky’s testimony.

  McCann turned to the doctors and nurses, who sat rigid and white-faced at one end of the table. “Let me recap, then. Please bear with me. I want to be sure we have this right.”

  The medical professionals nodded, but they shifted in their seats as if wanting to get back to work. They’d already been interviewed and answered their own sets of questions too many times.

  McCann stood and paced, pointing to a board which now featured the face of Marcus Lowry. “So. As I see it, this Lowry character came to you on the recommendation of a Dr. Spencer from Idaho. Correct?”

  The men and women in white coats nodded solemnly.

  McCann turned to his assistant. “You’re checking him out as we speak?”

  The younger officer, the same one who had been in the ‘copter, nodded. “Right. Spencer’s looking kinda dicey. He almost lost his license last year.”

  “Okay. Well, keep on it.” He turned back to the medical team. “Now, this patient of yours presented with typical symptoms of leukemia. He matched your entry criteria, so you say.”

  More nodding.

  “He’s been treated here for six months. Lived in the dorms over there.” McCann motioned toward the brick building in the distance. “And he was getting better. Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” said the older doctor with white hair. “We planned to release him soon.”

  McCann spoke up. “Okay. We’ve got the facts on him. But what we don’t have yet is your impressions. I want to know which of you worked the closest with him. I want your honest opinions. I want to hear it all.”

  A petite redhead raised her hand timidly. “Nurse Liz Cramer, sir. I worked with Chet every day.”

  McCann nodded to her. “Talk to us, Liz.”

  Liz nodded. “Yes. Chet was very…um…personable.”

  I hadn’t expected that comment, and apparently neither had the rest of the people in the room.

  Liz smiled. “I know. It sounds weird, especially if he’s the…uh…killer. But he was sweet. And funny. And we all really loved him.”

  McCann frowned. “Really.”

  She shrugged. “I’m sorry. It’s the truth. He responded to the treatment really quickly, too. He was one of our best cases. Chet was sort of our poster boy this year for how well the newest blend of essential oils worked on leukemia.” Her smile turned to a frown. “I’m sorry. Now that we know what he may’ve done, I wish he’d been a creep. But he wasn’t. He was so incredibly nice.”

  Liz looked embarrassed, but I believed every word of her testimony.

  The older doctor spoke up. “I can corroborate what Liz said. This patient improved dramatically shortly after we treated him with our most promising blend. And yes, he was quite the charmer. Everyone liked him, including the other patients. They nicknamed him Valentino, you know, for Rudy Valentino from the silent film days.”

  McCann raised one eyebrow. “Valentino, huh? Great. Now our serial killer’s got a name the papers will love.” He walked around to the window. “So when did this…Valentino…leave the center?”

  Liz answered. “About a month ago, sir. He left without the proper paperwork, however. Just walked out one night and didn’t say a word to anyone, which rather surprised us, since he’d been the model patient for the past six months. ”

  McCann pursed his lips. “Okay, so that matches the timeline. Maybe this Valentino character really is the killer. The first victim was found four weeks ago. Damn, people. He may very well be our man.”

  Callie pulled me toward her and whispered in my ear. “Wanna get out of here? I think we can go now.”

  “You bet I do.” I smiled hesitantly at Sky, told McCann where I’d be, and we headed out to her Jeep.

  “I want to see my dog,” I said, like a petulant child. “And I need to get some clean clothes.”

  “No problem. Got you covered, my friend.”

  She drove expertly down the hill. You’d never know she had just earned her license last year. I was so proud of her. She’d come far in the past year. She’d beaten her agoraphobia. She’d assimilated into society. She’d taken a job, of all things. And she’d openly fallen in love with another woman, who seemed to be the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  Callie flashed a wide smile. “We’ll pick up Dak, then head down to Tall Pines for a bit. You can get a shower, pack a bag, then afterwards we’ll settle you in at my house. Sound good?”

  “Sounds wonderful.” I slumped gratefully into the seat.

  The roads were plowed, but white drifts formed regularly when the land grew more open, and winds whipped across the icy river and meadows as if punishing the earth one more time before spring returned.

  We picked up Dak, who licked my face and jumped on me as if we’d been separated for ten years instead of a day, then piled back into the Jeep.

  When we passed the hotel on Lake Pleasant, I turned to Callie. “Slow down, honey. I just want to see…”

  My mother’s car was gone.

  Quinn had left. He’d gone home. He deserted me.

  A blanket of grief settled over me, heavy and cumbersome. I tried not to cry, but couldn’t help it.

  Callie patted my hand. “Oh, honey. You’ll work it out. You’ll see.”

  I sniffled. “I don’t think so. I’m evil. I’m untrustworthy. I’m a slut.”

  “What?”
/>
  “Nothing.”

  “Marcie? What happened?”

  I slid deeper into depression. “It’s just, I kind of made a pass at Sky in the cave. I don’t know why. I was so cold. He was so warm. And he saved my life. And it felt so good to be with him again.”

  “Did you…” she glanced sideways at me.

  “No. He stopped me. The helicopter sort of showed up just in time. But I kissed him and touched him and…I really wanted to.”

  She eyed me sideways. “Are you sorry you didn’t?”

  I sank deeper in my seat. Quinn was gone. He’d left me high and dry, even though I had to admit, I goaded him into leaving. “Honestly?” I turned to look at the snowy trees flying past my window. “I really don’t know.”

  Chapter 25

  I thanked God when we reached the Tall Pines dirt road and noticed that the guy we contracted to plow had already done his job for both our lane and the one that went to the Wohls’ cabin. I guessed someone must be staying there after all, and maybe they’d called the plow guy, too.

  Callie’s Jeep had no problem making it through the rutted, narrow path. We parked near the back door. I quickly shoveled the steps and porch and we hurried inside, locking all the doors. Callie kept watch out the windows while I showered and changed. She helped me pack a bag, and we worked in concert like twins who could read each other’s thoughts. No one in the world knew my likes and dislikes better than Callie. She knew which jeans were my favorite and all the sweaters I loved. After all, we’d been best friends for life. I trusted her completely.

  She peeked out the bedroom window. “Do you think that creep will come back?”

  I chuckled nervously and stuffed some socks in the bag. “Not in broad daylight. Heck. There’s not much else to take except a few chunks of firewood.”

  She shuddered. “I hope you’re right. Gives me the heebie jeebies.”

  “Come on. I’m going to turn down the heat, then we can go.”

  We bundled up again for the cold, zipping coats and wrapping scarves and pulling on our gloves and hats.

  “Dak’s probably gotta go. Let’s take him out one more time,” I said.

  We went out the front door through the sun porch. I opened the door, and Dak froze and growled. He jumped into the two-foot high snow drifts and barked.

  “Dak, honey. What is it?” Fear tripped down my spine but I told myself it was probably just a squirrel or rabbit.

  Callie came out beside me, standing in the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. He sees something, I guess.”

  With four bounding leaps, Dak streaked to the ledge and disappeared over the side, scrambling down the path to the river.

  “Dak!” I yelled. I’d never taken him to the river’s edge, and he’d never tried to go down there before. My pulse quickened. “Come, boy! Come to Mama.”

  “Crap,” Callie said. “Where is he?”

  I stumbled forward into the deep snow. “We’ve gotta find him. If he gets a scent, he might take off. Oh, God. He’s never done this before, Callie. Never.”

  She followed me toward the edge of the drop-off. I handed her the frozen rope to hold and we skidded toward the river below, sliding on our backsides until we reached the icy shore.

  I saw my beautiful puppy bounding north along the slippery rocks and ice floes. My heart froze. “Dak!”

  “Oh my God. What if he falls in?” Callie yelled, right behind me.

  My thoughts, exactly.

  Walking along the riverbed was a little easier than tromping through the deep snow, but it was treacherous going, and we both fell several times.

  “Dak!” I screamed. “Come!” I saw his furry tail waving in the distance, but he continued running and barking with his nose to the ground.

  I began to sweat inside all my winter clothes, and with a violence that surprised even me, I wrenched my scarf from my neck and unzipped my parka. “My God. Will he ever stop?”

  Callie caught up with me and we both leaned forward, breathing hard for a minute, trying to catch our breath. I straightened and scanned the riverbed, using my hands to shade my eyes. The strong sun glinted off ice and snow, making it hard to see. Dak disappeared around a bend.

  The Sacandaga River, ever rumbling and murmuring, seemed to urge me onward.

  “Come on. He has to stop soon,” Callie said.

  Dak’s barking grew sharper, and it sounded like wolves devouring their prey in nature films. I shuddered, wondering what poor animal I’d find around the corner. He’d never killed a rabbit or squirrel in his life—usually he just chased them with delirious pleasure.

  Callie and I panted around the corner and stopped dead.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, clutching Callie’s hand.

  A body lay on the edge of the water, turned sideways, facing away from us.

  A body.

  On the shore of the Sacandaga.

  The Valentino Killer.

  My attention was abruptly drawn to a spot twenty feet further upriver, where Dak barked and growled at a figure struggling to get free from his jaws. My dog ripped at the man’s snow pants, locked onto the fabric. The man kicked and yelled at him, trying to break free.

  I held Callie’s arm, stopping her from moving forward. The man turned, revealing a charming smile that chilled my blood. Beautiful eyes glared at us. “Call off your dog, or I’ll kill him.” He raised a knife high in the air. Sun glinted on its blade.

  The blood drained from my face. “Dak!” I called. “Come!” I yelled with all my might, calling him as forcefully as I could.

  The man kicked him off, scrambling for the ledge. He climbed fast in spite of the snow, and in seconds had disappeared. Dak saw me and turned, wagging his tail. I called him again, and he bounded toward us, then circled and turned back toward the body, sniffing it all over. He whined, then sat on the ground and lifted his nose to the heavens in a mournful howl.

  The sound of a vehicle starting up made us jump. It roared away. The killer had escaped.

  Slowly, I approached Dak, reaching for his ears to stroke them. I patted his head while he pressed against my leg with his big body. Finally, I dared to look down. Callie joined me and held my hand.

  It couldn’t be Aria, I thought mechanically. This girl had red hair, not long dark curls like the girl in Ginny’s wallet photo. But she’d been pretty and very young, and it was all I could do to stop myself from covering her body with my coat.

  She looked so cold, lying on the snowy banks with only jeans and a cotton blouse to cover her. Her eyes were closed. Were they blue? Green? Her perfect, pretty face was nearly blue.

  She coughed.

  Dak began to lick her face, whining some more, but now his tail wagged.

  “Oh my God. She’s alive.” I raced to her side and lifted her head from the icy rocks. “Honey, it’s going to be okay. We’ve got you.”

  I shrugged out of my coat. Very gently, we lifted the girl to a sitting position and maneuvered her into the sleeves, zipping it up. Callie put her wool cap on the girl, and I gently wrapped my scarf around her neck.

  Her eyes fluttered opened. She stiffened, and then she screamed, arms and legs weakly thrashing, as if she were still fighting off the killer.

  “No, shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay now. We’re here.” Tears soaked my cheeks when I realized my darling dog had most likely stopped a murder in progress. Was the bastard about to slit her throat like he’d done to the others? I shuddered to think what could have happened if we’d been a minute too late.

  Callie looked up and down the shore. “There’s no cell signal here, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, either one of us has to go back and use the landline to call for help, or we have to get her up to the cabin.”

  “I like the last idea better.” I looked around nervously and shivered. “What if he comes back to finish what he started?”

  “Right,” Callie said, her eyes filling with terror. She glanced
up at the ledge. “Geez, I really hope that was him driving away. I hope he’s not still up there.” A shudder ran through her, and I knew her old fears had to be kicking up in her subconscious. This guy was a rapist and murderer. Not her favorite kind of person.

  She seemed to gather her strength, straightening. “Okay. Let’s get her up.”

  The girl was so weak she could barely stand. But with both of us supporting her beneath her arms, we managed to get her upright. Slowly, stumbling and shuffling forward, we made our way back toward Tall Pines.

  “We can do this,” I said through gritted teeth. “We’ve got to get her to a warm place.”

  When we finally reached the ledge beneath the cabin, we stopped.

  “How the hell are we going to get her up there?” I was weeping freely now, tears freezing on my cheeks. “My God, Callie. We need a miracle. There’s no way—”

  “Marcella?”

  The voice came from above, probably from the cabin door we’d left wide open.

  Impossible.

  Quinn?

  I screamed for him, and my voice sounded as desperate and insane as I felt inside. “Quinn! Down here, please. We need help.”

  In seconds, my husband appeared over the ledge. The quizzical look on his face quickly dissolved into concern. “Marcella. What the hell?” He scrambled to the shore, checking the girl’s pulse and eyes.

  She slumped down to the ground, as if the half-walking, half-carrying up the river had been the final straw for her.

  Quinn leaned over her. “She’s out.” Without a second’s hesitation, he lifted her, slung her over his broad shoulders, and with the rope in one hand and the other holding the girl in place, he clambered back up the hill.

  Callie whistled beneath her breath. “Wow. Did he just do that?”

  I watched with admiration, tears still flowing. “Hell, yeah. He did.”

  We scurried back up the rise to the cabin, following him inside.

  Chapter 26

  Callie used the landline to call Copper, who said she’d alert the cavalry and get an ambulance to us as fast as possible. I jacked up the heat. Quinn carried the girl into our bedroom and laid her gently on the bed, and I followed. Her soft red hair lay in waves across the pillow. The color had come back to her cheeks a bit, and her lips weren’t as blue as they’d been earlier.

 

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