Mrs. Barlow swatted one away from her head. “I didn’t want them blocking the television. Now I’m afraid one of them might strangle me in my sleep. I didn’t have the heart to turn away any gifts.”
I retied the balloon so it wasn’t threatening to wrap around Mrs. Barlow’s throat. “You could donate them to the pediatric floor. I bet the kids would love them.”
She beamed and raised the head of the bed. “That’s a terrific idea. It’ll make me happy to know the balloons are appreciated.”
“I hope you don’t mind, I have more gifts.” I plopped my bulging tote onto the bed. “I have cards, chocolates, and magazines.”
“What type of magazines?” She peered into the bag.
“I don’t know. A friend of yours gave them to me in a sealed brown paper bag.”
“Thank you.” Blushing, Mrs. Barlow tucked the package under her pillow. “I’ll take a look at those later. It’d be very rude to thumb through a magazine while I have company.”
“How are you feeling?” I sat in the closest visitor’s chair.
“Better.” She held her hand over the bandage on her left temple. “Just a little headache and my arm aches some. The doctor says it’s fortunate I didn’t break anything when I fell.”
“You fell?” Had we all been mistaken about what happened to Mrs. Barlow? My phone rang. I turned it down and set it on the bedside table, letting the call go to voicemail.
“Not on my own. I took Snickerdoodle out for his before-bed potty time. He started whimpering, so we went back inside to put his booties on. He doesn’t like it when the ground is cold. I checked my messages, and you girls hadn’t called yet, so I had to make some calls. I was worried.”
“Sorry about that. We had a bonfire to break up.”
“I wish I had known. I called Detective Roget, Steve, Daniel, Officer Jasper, Wayne, and Wyatt. I hate the fact I sent them on an unnecessary call. No one is going to take my calls seriously if I call for nothing. To think, I might have gotten you girls in trouble because no one wanted to head out until I told them exactly why I was worried. That detective was the crankiest of the lot.”
“That’s not a surprise.”
“While I was talking to all the men, Snickerdoodle kept trying to get the muffins from the buffet, so I put those away and then put all my records away and made a backup of all my data. I hadn’t done it in a week, and with everything going on, I thought that would be a good idea.”
“Where do you keep it?” My phone buzzed and skidded around the table.
“Shouldn’t you answer that?”
“I’m more interested in your story.”
Smiling, Mrs. Barlow settled herself more comfortably against her pillows. “I hide the memory stick under my mattress.”
My heart sped up. There was evidence.
Mrs. Barlow bopped my nose with her fingertip. “Now, don’t you get too excited. I already told that detective where I kept it.”
Drat. Well, I should be happy since the police had the evidence. They were the ones who really needed it.
The door flung open. Melinda, Mrs. Barlow’s daughter, stood in the doorway, trembling from head to toe. “I want you gone.”
Mrs. Barlow wagged a finger at her daughter. “That is no way to treat my company.”
My phone buzzed again. A text message flashed on the screen. I scanned it.
“I want you to stay away from my mother.” She jabbed a finger at the door. “If I find out you ever get her involved in your messes again, I’ll slap a restraining order on you.”
Holding my head high, and my cell phone clutched in my hand, I hurried out the door. I was less worried about Mrs. Barlow than the text I’d just received.
“I’m going after the evidence.” Dawn had typed.
I texted Dawn back. “Call the cops.”
“Can’t.”
My fingers flew over the keys. “It’s too risky. You have to tell them. Or I will.”
“If you do, I’ll be dead. It’s one of them.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Leaves crunched under my boots as I made my way past the remains of Made With Love toward the wooded area where Dawn said the evidence was located. A chill worked its way through my body. Even as I tried avoiding the mound where Charlie had been buried, my gaze kept skittering toward it, almost searching for it. My emotions felt as scattered as the leaves on the ground. A cop was the murderer. I didn’t want to believe it. Even after my bad experience with the law, I still firmly believed in justice and the men and woman who risked their lives for their communities.
I couldn’t see it. Not in Eden. And not any of the officers I knew. Well, there was an exception: Officer Mitchell. He was feeding Karen information and doing his best to make me the suspect.
“Dawn,” I stage-whispered. No reply. I called out again, this time a little louder.
Where was she?
I stood still and listened. Off in the distance, I heard twigs snapping. Ducking under low hanging branches, I moved deeper into the woods, careful of where I stepped. Dawn better show herself soon, or I’d call Ted.
An arm wound around my upper body as a gun was pressed to my temple. Trembling, I snuck a glance over my shoulder. Andrew Taylor. Twigs and leaves were stuck in his hair, and dirt coated one side of his face.
“Let’s go.” He waved the gun toward the woods. “It’s time for a reunion with your friend.”
“No one else is here.”
“I’m not that stupid,” he said. “I know Dawn Carr is here. And I know what you are both up to.”
“It’s just me.”
“Stop lying and move.” He jabbed the gun into my back.
I examined the world around me, taking mental notes and making an escape plan. Fortunately, there were plenty of downed branches, so I had my pick of weapons. I only needed to wait for the right moment. I had parked in a spot perfect for a getaway and left the keys in the ignition. I could get us out of this alive.
“You’re stalling. Let’s go. And no funny business.”
If he was going to boss me around, I wished he’d be a little more original. Then again, Ridley said Andrew wasn’t bright. So what did that say about me for getting captured by a person I believed wasn’t a blade sharp enough to score a piece of paper?
“Hurry up.” Andrew grabbed my arm and yanked me forward.
“It’ll take longer if you make me break my leg. There’s a lot of debris around here.” I stepped over a fallen tree branch.
Andrew flattened himself against a tree, pulling me to the side. A crackling sound broke the stillness of the woods. I peered through the trees and spotted Dawn.
She was brushing leaves away from the trunk of a tree. Large roots stuck out from the ground, creating a little cave at the base of the tree.
He rested a finger against my lips. “Say one word and I’ll shoot her. Got it?”
There was nothing I could do but nod.
“Don’t think,” he added to his warning, and pointed the barrel of the gun through an opening between the branches. He had a clear shot.
Dawn must’ve heard something. She spun around, fear on her face, and tried to shield the nature-created hiding spot.
“Move.” Andrew shoved me.
I fell forward, tumbling onto the ground a few yards in front of Dawn.
“What in the world?” Dawn squatted down beside me.
Flipping myself over, I sat up and pointed at Andrew. “Watch out!”
“Think I wouldn’t find out what you were up to?” Andrew walked forward, gun aimed at Dawn. “You took my accountability tag and are hiding it.”
“Your what?” we asked.
“My fire department ID,” Andrew said. “I have to have it or I’m not allowed on calls.”
> There was a nice size branch, perfect for clubbing, a few feet away. I angled my heels to the right, then brought the rest of my feet over. A few more of these moves, and I’d have it in my hand.
“Why would I take it?” Dawn shuffled backwards.
“I was showing it to the kids. Chad took it and wouldn’t give it back. He gave it to you.”
“Chad didn’t give to me,” Dawn said. “I didn’t even know what was hidden here. I swear.”
“Then how did you know where to look for it?”
“I’m not telling you.”
Andrew’s trigger finger twitched. I wasn’t sure now was a good time to start showing an attitude.
I tried distracting Andrew with a question. “Did you tell the police Chad took your ID?”
“Hell no. I wasn’t going to say I was out here the night of the fire. I knew people would think I killed him.” Andrew turned the gun on me. “Stay still. I’m not as dumb as everyone thinks.”
Dawn hugged herself.
“You should’ve told them,” I said. “It would’ve made you a hero. No one really cares that Chad was killed.”
Dawn drew in a sharp breath. Tears glittered in her eyes. I snuck a glance at the branch and then back at her. I repeated the movement again, hoping she’d understand.
“My husband didn’t deserve to die like that.”
“And I don’t deserve to be set up for his and the other guy’s murder,” Andrew said.
“We’re not framing you.” I pointed at myself. “Mitchell has been trying to pin it on me.”
“And there’s your reason for saying I did it.”
Unfortunately, he had a point. “I promise we’re not trying to frame you. Maybe what Dawn came to find isn’t about you.”
Andrew looked doubtful.
“Let me take a look. Please,” I said.
Andrew hooked an arm around Dawn, pressing the gun to the back of her head. “If you try anything, I’ll shoot her. Understand?”
Perfectly. I lowered myself to the ground and stuck my hand inside the cave the roots formed. I felt around. After a few minutes, my hand closed around two cards. One firm and one flimsy and soggy.
“Did you find something?”
“No. But I can’t reach all the way back. My arms aren’t long enough.”
“I’ll do it.”
I discreetly placed Andrew’s accountability tag and the barely held-together Vulcan Catering card under my derrière.
He motioned with his gun. “Move it.”
I scooted on my rump, dragging the evidence with me, and praying I didn’t destroy either piece.
“I mean stand up.” He eyed me suspiciously. “What are you doing?”
“Moving. My legs are a little shaky, so it’s hard to stand,” I said, running through options for hiding the cards.
“Lean on your friend. Just stand up.”
“Why? Where are we going?” I asked.
“No questions, Miss Sherlock Holmes. From now on, you listen. You’ve run your mouth all over town long enough,” Andrew said.
“If you’re mad at me, let Dawn go.” I flattened my hands on the ground. “No reason to make her stay.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Dawn said.
Andrew pointed the gun at Dawn. “You know everything.”
“I don’t.” Dawn clasped her arms around her quaking body. “I’m trying to figure it out, but I know nothing.”
“She doesn’t know anything,” I said. “She had no idea Chad paid someone to burn the place down.”
“Yes, she does. She’s keeping it quiet, making everyone think it was me.” Andrew roamed the barrel toward me. “Now stand up.”
I dug my fingers deep into the loose dirt. I scooped up a handful and threw it in Andrew’s face.
“Run!” I snatched up the evidence in one hand, grabbing Dawn’s arm with the other. I ran.
She stumbled behind me.
Andrew screamed, “I’ll kill you for this!”
Not if he couldn’t catch us. Once we made it to the main road, we’d be fine. There wasn’t a lot of traffic down this portion of Route 220, but with the high school game starting in an hour, there’d be a steady stream of cars.
“Stop! I’ll shoot you.”
I listened for the sound of the gun, wanting to know which way to feign. Nothing. Dawn cried out. My arm jerked down.
“I twisted my ankle. Bad,” Dawn said through gritted teeth.
“We can make it,” I said.
“You go.”
“I’m not leaving you.” I helped Dawn to her feet, directing her in front of me. She half-ran, half-limped.
“I’ll shoot. This is my last warning.” Andrew’s voice came from a few feet behind us. “I mean it!”
“We’re almost to the road.” I hoped my encouragement pushed her through the pain.
Dawn used the trees to pull herself along. “Almost there. Almost there.”
“Stop ignoring me. I will kill you,” Andrew wearily threatened.
Then why hadn’t he already? The man had had plenty of time to shoot us at least three times. Why keep threatening it? Because he couldn’t kill a person. I stopped and faced him.
Andrew skidded to a stop, pointing the gun at me.
“Good, you finally listened. I won’t have to kill you.”
“You wouldn’t have killed me,” I said. “You’re not a murderer.”
He lowered the gun. “Now someone believes me.”
This was quite the conundrum.
“Faith,” Dawn called out to me.
“It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt us.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Dawn hobbled back to me.
“I am.” I crossed my arms and glared at Andrew. “Start talking. Why were you at the bonfire last Friday night? Coach Rutherford told you to stay away.”
“Because someone had to look after the kids.”
“They’re teenagers. They don’t need a babysitter,” I said.
“Coach didn’t know about this one. He wouldn’t be there to make sure the kids didn’t drive high.”
“Weren’t the other monitors there? Wouldn’t they snitch on you?” I asked.
“It was game night. Most of them were out drinking with their friends, and Mitchell was on duty.”
“If Coach Rutherford—”
Andrew cut me off. “I know. He’d have lost it, and I’d have been run out of town. But I couldn’t do nothing. Not after what happened to Brandon.”
“Did you know you handed Brandon Janie the night of his accident?”
Andrew’s arm slackened. The gun dangled by his leg. “No. But I was the adult. I should’ve known something was up. Brandon was acting real weird when he left. I should’ve insisted on driving him home, but the kid wanted to be alone.”
“Why? Did Brandon get into a fight with someone at the bonfire?” I asked.
Dawn shifted some leaves with the toe of her dirty sneaker. “It was because he saw Hannah with Daniel Burke.”
I stared at Dawn.
“The night of the accident, I left Made With Love late because I was working on the books,” Dawn said. “I saw Daniel and Hannah sitting in his truck, making out. I heard someone behind me and turned. It was Brandon.”
“Why didn’t Chad stop the kids from driving?” I asked.
“He told me it wasn’t his responsibility.” Andrew tapped the barrel against his leg. “He was providing the place. He never admitted he sold the Janie, but we all kind of knew, but as long as we didn’t really know—”
“You didn’t have to tell the police. No one wanted the players getting busted.” I worked on locking up my disgust. I was close to the truth, and didn’t
want my attitude shutting it down.
“But that night, I knew Chad was angry,” Andrew said. “When Brandon drove off, Chad said maybe now Felicity Sullivan would get off his back. Chad had rolled all the cigarettes and was filling up the empty packs the kids brought him.”
“You liar.” Dawn charged Andrew.
She was slowed down by her ankle, so I easily snagged her around the waist and stopped her. “He has a gun.”
“He won’t shoot us.”
“Maybe not on purpose.”
Dawn removed my arms from around her waist and sank to the ground. “I can’t believe my husband would purposely hurt a child. Is that why Felicity set him on fire?”
“She didn’t have the strength to kill him,” I said. “Chad was dead before the fire.”
“Who set it?” Andrew asked. “I didn’t.”
“Where were you when Made With Love burned down and Charlie was murdered?” I asked.
“With my wife. Norm keeps telling Debi to roll on me. Give the police what they want. I didn’t do it. I killed nobody.”
I pulled the cards out of my pocket. “Who would want to set you set up, Andrew? I found these under the tree.”
“I don’t know. My father-in-law don’t like me much, but I can’t see him burning down places and people so I’d go to prison.”
I couldn’t muster even an ounce of conviction for that theory either.
Andrew turned the business card over. “Is this a new place? I’ve never heard of it.”
“What about your truck? It was in the bay at the fire station, and I know it was the same one used when someone shot at me and Ted,” I said.
“I reported my truck stolen Monday night,” Andrew said. “No one believed me.”
“Why?” Dawn bunched her legs toward her chest, resting her chin on her knees.
Andrew blushed. “Because it was always getting stolen, or moved, as Norm called it. I was always leaving my keys on the counter at the bowling alley. My father-in-law or Daniel would take my keys and move my truck on me so I couldn’t drive home.”
“And we’re supposed to believe that,” I said.
Framed to Death (A Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Book 4) Page 24