“Can’t take the smell.”
“I don’t blame you,” I said.
What more could I say? It was up to her and the other neighbors to complain to lard butt, but if they didn’t, it was on them.
We took some snorts on the inhalers, then went in, heading directly for the freezer. Oh, it was bad in there. The Texas heat had baked all of the food in the place, and anything else that could have been affected by the heat was ripe and stinking up the place. Sabrina opened the freezer and saw the Rum Raisin ice cream containers. She carefully picked them up and carried them outside. It was better outside. Not great, but certainly less pungent than the inside of the trailer. She set them down on the hood of the car.
One of the containers still had the plastic wrapper around the lid, but the other one had obviously been opened. She took the lid off. Ice cream. Well, melted ice cream. We both had a momentary feeling of disappointment. Then Sabrina poured the ice cream onto the ground. It came out in lumps. With the ice cream fell a plastic freezer bag. I picked it up and wiped the sour ice cream off.
“Oh no!” said Sabrina.
The freezer bag was full of ice cream. It must have had a hole in it and when the electricity was turned off, the ice cream melted into the bag. I opened the bag and dumped the contents out. With the ice cream came a knife and a soggy piece of paper. The knife was about 4 inches long, just short enough to fit in the ice cream container. It had a button to push to make the blade pop out. I didn’t push it. In fact, I hadn’t picked up the knife at all. There had to be fingerprints or DNA on it and I didn’t want to contaminate it any more than the ice cream had.
Sabrina pulled out the piece of paper. It was completely unreadable. I thought she was going to cry.
“All because that lazy pig had the electricity turned off!”
I thought she was going to go back and punch the guy out.
“Nothing we can do about that,” I said, hoping to bring her down. “Maybe we can give the knife to Detective Morse and have him test it for DNA.”
“We can’t take the knife onto the plane with us, so I’m going to send it to him.”
She wiped the ice cream off her hands, picked up her phone, and dialed.
“I’ll ask him,” she said.
I heard someone pick up.
“Detective Morse, this is Sabrina Spencer. I’m in Texas right now. I have a switchblade and a piece of paper I was wondering if I could send to you for testing.”
He said something I couldn’t hear.
“Believe it or not, it might be related to The Taunting Man murders in Boston thirty years ago. My friend, Daisy Leduc, who was murdered out here, left it for me. She hid it in a freezer bag in a tub of ice cream … don’t laugh … the knife must have ripped the bag and the ice cream melted into the bag, contaminating everything.”
He said something else.
“Because I think she had some information about the killer. She was living in Boston at the time. I don’t have any more than that. I don’t know if your people can save the note, but it might have the explanation on it. As it is now, it’s unreadable. I can send it to you Express Mail as is in a freezer bag. It’s messy, as it’s covered in ice cream.”
“Okay, thanks … What?” She smiled. “Rum Raisin, and trust me, you wouldn’t want it.”
Sabrina went over to our new neighbor and handed her the $300 she had extorted from the owner of the park.
“Thanks for all your help,” she said.
I thought the woman’s eyes were going to pop out of her head.
Then we headed for a store to buy bags and then to the post office. A couple of hours later, we were back in Lubbock, taking long, hot showers.
*****
We flew back the next morning, this time with only one stop in Dallas. We arrived home mid-afternoon and unpacked. We were having dinner—not take-out for a change—when my phone rang.
It was Jackson and he sounded out of breath.
Chapter 32
It only took me a moment to realize that the breathlessness was born from excitement.
“I might have found it!”
“Found what?”
“The secret lair of my father.”
Secret lair? No normal person says things like “secret lair.” As excited as he was, he had to have thought about what he was going to say beforehand. He could have come up with something a little better.
Jackson continued. “In my mother’s papers was a note my father had written her. It looks like it was written years ago, but it refers to a secret hiding spot. He called it his man-cave, which is kind of ironic, considering where it is. I get the feeling that it’s where it all happened—where he took the women he abducted and maybe where he killed them. If so, it would hold clues to the identities of the women. And here’s the irony: his man-cave is actually in a cave. It’s in the Clover Mine.”
Ironic maybe, but sick.
The call was on speaker so Sabrina could hear.
“But the women were from the Boston area,” I said. “And their bodies were found in Boston. Are you saying that he abducted them, drove nine or ten hours to western Pennsylvania, tortured and killed them, then drove them back to Boston?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I was thinking about that. My father was on the road a lot. In the early days, he did a lot of driving. Most of his trips were in the northeast or Midwest, so he didn’t bother flying. It wasn’t until later that he started traveling further afield and flying more. It would make perfect sense. It would also be why the police up there could never find where the women were killed. He did it down here.”
“Sick,” I said.
“Well, as we’ve determined,” said Jackson, “he wasn’t exactly a sane man.”
“I think it’s time to call the police,” Sabrina said.
“No. No police until we prove conclusively that it was my father. If we get the police involved and it turns out to be a wild goose chase, it could do enormous damage to the family company. After all, I’m the owner now, like it or not, and it’s my only source of income. I’m too old to start over if something happens to the mine. If it turns out that The Taunting Man was my father, then I’m ready to deal with it.”
“So why don’t you go into the cave and see?” I said.
“Uh uh, not alone. I spent my whole childhood in the mine business, but I hate them, and I certainly never went in one alone. Would you two come with me?”
“Um,” I said.
“Sure,” said Sabrina. “I’ve always had a fascination with caves and mines. I can’t pass up this opportunity.”
I could have. However, being the good sport and not wanting to look like a wimp, all I said was, “Absolutely. Count us in.”
“How are we going to get in?” Sabrina asked. “The road to the mine was blocked off with a substantial fence and there was a serious-looking sign warning against trespassing.”
“According to his directions, it wasn’t in the mine itself. It’s a cave in the same mountain where the mine is located. We can get to it without going by way of the road.”
We agreed to fly down the next morning and meet him at his house.
“Are we sure this is a good idea?” I asked that night as I was brushing my teeth.
“No, but that’s never stopped us before. What are your reservations? Do you not trust Jackson?”
“It’s not that. He seems to be okay. Maybe I’m just a little leery of exploring a cave next to a closed down mine, especially one that has already killed twenty-two people. I guess I’d feel better knowing that we’ve let someone know where we are.”
“I’ll email my agent and let him know. If he doesn’t hear from us, he can send in the Marines.”
“Making fun of me?”
“No, not at all. I agree with you. It would be stupid to go in without a lifeline.”
I called Mo that night and told her where we were going. I felt better knowing that two people were aware of our plans.
&nb
sp; “Wish I could go with you,” she said. “It sounds like you’ll have a kick-ass time. Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t I go with Sabrina and you can teach my class?”
All of a sudden, rooting around in a dark and scary cave didn’t seem so bad.
*****
Thunderstorms around Pittsburgh closed the airport and caused our flight in to be delayed for a while. No sense in leaving Boston if we weren’t sure we could land. But we eventually got on our way and landed in Pittsburgh at two o’clock in the heavy rain. Jackson met us when we came through security and waited while we each went into the bathroom to change into our “cave clothes,” as Sabrina called them—hiking boots, jeans, and a flannel shirt.
Jackson seemed quiet as he drove to the mine.
“Are you okay?” asked Sabrina.
“Kind of,” he answered. “This is more emotional than I thought it would be. If I’m correct, I’m about to find proof that my father murdered more than a dozen women. And I’ll be finding it in a cave where more than twenty-two people died, also at the hands of my father. Add to that the emotions that still haunt me about Lucy leaving and my final argument with her, it’s pretty heavy stuff. If I had been stronger, I could have stood up to my father and maybe I wouldn’t have lost my sister. But there’s nothing I can do about that now. Maybe what we find will somehow vindicate Lucy and make it so that all of those years spent in prison won’t have been in vain.”
“They were in vain, no matter how you look at it,” said Sabrina. “At this point, I don’t feel that I’m doing this for Daisy or Lucinda—however you look at her—I’m now doing this for her daughter, Ronnie. She deserves to know the truth about her mother.”
“And for the families of everyone your father murdered,” I added.
We arrived at the gate to the closed mine around 4:00. The rain was coming down in buckets. I looked at my watch.
“Is it getting too late to do this, especially considering the weather? Should we think about doing it tomorrow morning?”
Or never?
“We’ve still got three to four hours of light left,” said Jackson. “Not that it matters. Underground you don’t know the difference between day and night. The rain won’t make a difference underground and supposedly the cave has lights. I guess it was one of the original arms of the mine, but for some reason, it was abandoned long ago. So while there is an outside entrance that we’ll use, my father indicated that inside, there is also a connection to the mine.”
Next to the gate was a small side road that wound its way around the massive hill that contained the mine. From the looks of it, it had been used sparingly over the years. We drove for fifteen minutes, finally turning off the small road onto an even smaller one. How could Jackson even tell it was a road? A minute later we arrived at a long-since-forgotten overgrown parking area large enough for three or four cars at most. At the edge was a rock wall. Set at the bottom of the wall was an entrance to a cave. The cave opening was about ten feet by ten feet and had a mesh wire covering it.
“That says “Keep Out” to me,” I muttered.
“I doubt it,” said Jackson. “If my father got in there, I don’t think it’s going to stop us.”
Sure enough, originally it might have prevented people from entering, but now it was all for show. One side of the mesh had been detached from the rock and the wire was slightly bent in spots, indicating that we weren’t the first to use it. Jackson pulled it back and motioned for Sabrina and me to go through. He followed us.
While it wasn’t pitch black, it was pretty close. I could see Sabrina and Jackson, but that was about it. It was damp and smelled musty.
“If the directions were right,” said Jackson, “there should be a light switch on one of these walls.”
We turned on our flashlights and looked around. There wasn’t a lot of space in which to move around. The rock wall was smooth and cool. I saw it first. It was an old-fashioned switch, the kind you turn—maybe from the 1930s or 40s? I turned the switch and the cave was suddenly illuminated. The light was dim, but at least we could see.
“Found it,” I said. My voice took on a muffled quality in the enclosed space.
We weren’t in a cave. It was more like a passageway. It was shorter in height and narrower than the entrance, just barely high enough for us to walk without bending over and barely wide enough for two of us abreast. There was only one direction we could go, and that was down, so we let Jackson lead the way, turning off our flashlights.
It was a somewhat steep slope, one that I felt was leading us into the bowels of the mine.
“What was this entrance?” asked Sabrina.
“My guess is that it served as an escape tunnel at one time. Maybe when they first started digging. The mine itself is quite a ways from here inside the mountain, so I doubt that this ever became an escape tunnel.”
“Do you know how far down we’re going?” I asked.
Yes, I was nervous. I never liked enclosed spaces, and frankly, I wasn’t getting good feelings about this.
“According to his directions, we walk straight down for about five minutes, then we come to a main tunnel. We turn left, then I guess we’re almost there at that point.”
The passageway had steepened. I found myself using the walls as braces, just in case.
“You okay, Sabrina?” I asked. She was after Jackson and ahead of me. She had been tentatively using the walls as well.
“Hanging in there. Can’t believe people go down into these places to earn a living.”
“It’s a hard life,” said Jackson. “I’ve always respected the men and women working for us. You’d never catch me doing this every day.”
We finally reached the bottom. We seemed to be more into a mine now. It was old and long-since unused. Some of the timbers use to support the ceiling had fallen down and I could see the remains of an old track. There were lots of cobwebs. I felt like I had just entered an Indiana Jones movie.
Turning left was a no-brainer, as the lights only went left. I shone my flashlight off to the right and just saw more passageway, more tracks, more old beams, and then blackness. We went about fifty feet and then entered a large chamber. It had a completely different feel about it. It had been used recently.
There were a couple of makeshift beds with old stained mattresses. One of the beds had a bar across the head of the bed with some handcuffs attached. In the center of the room was another bar, this one bolted into the ceiling. Hanging from the bar were two loops of rope with what looked like slipknots. Underneath the bar on the rock floor was a large dark stain.
Dried blood!
Chapter 33
I felt like throwing up. It took all of my willpower to hold it in. I glanced at Sabrina. She had a look of horror on her face. I reached out and took her hand.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“How could someone be so sick?” I asked to no one in particular. No one answered.
Against the far wall were two shelves holding jewelry and other items. At the end of one of the shelves was a large padded manila envelope. Even from across the room, I could see Sabrina’s name on it. Sabrina saw it too.
“Daisy’s package,” she exclaimed, and took a step toward it.
Neither of us saw it coming—both in the short-term and the long-term. Should we have suspected Jackson? Was there a clue there someplace that we had missed? It didn’t matter. The fact was, we missed it.
Sabrina was slightly ahead of me and Jackson was between us. In a matter of two seconds, he kicked Sabrina behind her knees, bringing her to the ground. He grabbed her hair and yanked, jerking her head back and putting her in a helpless position. At the same time, he took a half turn toward me and shot his leg out in a potent side kick, getting me full in the chest. I shot back about six feet, colliding with a wooden beam. My weight dislodged the beam and I went down under it as it fell. It landed hard on my leg, pinning me down. As if to add an exclamation point, a cascade of rocks followed, covering my leg total
ly. The pain was unbearable and I was sure I was going to pass out.
Jackson had a gun out, ready to shoot me, but when he saw me pinned under the beam and the rocks, he just smiled and put the gun away. Meanwhile, I could see Sabrina struggling with Jackson. She was giving him a harder time than he had expected. She was almost to her feet when he hauled off and punched her in the face. She slumped to the ground, unconscious. I remember screaming her name. It was the last thing I did before I passed out.
*****
I woke up with tears running down my face. The pain was excruciating. My leg was wedged under the beam, which, in turn, was wedged under some rocks. As I regained my bearings, I remembered what had happened. Where was Sabrina?
She was hanging limply from the loops of rope on the metal bar, right over the large blood stain. She was unconscious and had a giant red mark on the side of her face from where Jackson had hit her.
“Did you really think you were going to live through this?” Jackson asked.
I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the time for pithy comebacks. I didn’t see a way out of this. The fact was, I was scared. Terrified. In the movies, James Bond would be cracking jokes while formulating a plan to turn the tables on the villain. To me, it brought out the stark difference between make-believe and real life. My mind wasn’t formulating anything. It had shut down completely. Every part of my being was frozen from fear. Funny, with all of that happening within me, I was also embarrassed—embarrassed that instead of protecting Sabrina, I was letting her down. The fact that I couldn’t move an inch didn’t matter. I didn’t know if my leg was broken, but there was no way I was going to move it. Jackson was going to kill us. That much was obvious. So was it even going to matter in the long run whether I died with a broken leg or a bruised leg? Dead was dead.
“You should have just dropped the whole thing. You were given every warning. You could have walked away.” He was staring at Sabrina with a look that made me again feel like I would throw up. He slowly and deliberately extracted a knife from his pocket. He pressed a button on the knife and a five-inch blade snapped out with a loud click that echoed off the cave walls. It was a frightening sound. He reached over and with an experienced flick of the wrist, Sabrina’s top shirt button fell to the floor, exposing a good amount of cleavage. This was all part of a routine he had perfected over many years, where he would play with the victim before finally killing her. The only difference here was that he had an audience. He seemed to enjoy that part of it.
Fatal Lies ( Lies Mystery Thriller Series Book 2) Page 17