Even In Darkness--An American Murder Mystery Thriller

by Lynn Hightower

  ‘Just to make sure,’ he says.

  ‘My favorite lipstick was in there. My only one.’

  ‘I’ll buy you a new one.’

  ‘Will that be before or after you shoot me in the throat?’

  He says nothing for a while. Just drives.

  ‘I’m Harvey, by the way. Reginald Harvey.’ He leans across to shake my hand, shrugs at my rebuff.

  ‘And all that stuff with Purcell’s history? I take it that was you?’

  He shoots a look at me. ‘No, that wasn’t me. Everything I told you about Cletus Purcell is true. We’re foster brothers, me and Cletus. We both got placed with the Hermans. They specialized in boys like us.’

  ‘But it was Purcell who came up to me in Wal-Mart.’

  ‘Yeah, I always use Cletus when the work requires a face.’

  ‘And Goodwin?’

  His face lights up. ‘He’s at a conference in Singapore, right now. Serendipity, don’t you think? It was perfect. You could be completely honest with me about me. Say what you think to Goodwin, without worrying about a gun to your head. And I could keep track of the investigation.’ He sounds amused. ‘It was Goodwin, you know, who kept telling Woods you were holding back, that there had to be some kind of connection.’

  ‘And all that stuff about you and Dr Goodwin being in communication?’

  ‘All true.’

  ‘Cletus Purcell was part of that?’

  ‘Nah, it’s not the kind of thing Cletus gets into. He’s not a big risk taker, and he doesn’t like to play. If he knew I was talking to Goodwin, and getting in and out of the computers? He’d take off.’ Harvey cocks his head. ‘But he’d kill the hostages first. That’s why we have to get out there now. Tonight. Agent Woods had just about nailed the location anyway. And now that you’ve made your phone calls, he and his two teams are going to be squabbling over the big finale. If we let them get there ahead of us, Purcell will damn sure kill your girls. You should have trusted me, Joy.’

  ‘Sure. The guy who set this whole thing up and has a gas can in the back of his car.’

  He laughs. ‘Goodwin finds me fascinating, you know. He and Woods have been burning up their keyboards, back and forth since late last night.’ Harvey flashes me a smile like a movie star. ‘These forensic guys, they can never resist. He studies me, I study him. He has some interesting insights on why I am who I am.’

  ‘An apex predator?’

  ‘My personal favorite.’

  ‘And what does the real Dr Goodwin say about your quest?’

  Harvey gives me a sideways glance. ‘That was quite the harsh little e-mail you put together.’

  ‘Don’t ask for honesty, if that’s not what you want.’

  ‘Yes, but was it meant for me, or Cletus? Because it occurred to me that since you know him, and thought he was the guy you were talking to, your answer might be tainted by that.’

  ‘That’s possible, I guess. What does Goodwin tell you?’

  ‘You mean about redemption, salvation, that sort of thing?’ He looks thoughtful. ‘My impression is that it throws him. He can’t really make up his mind how serious I am. He is sorely tempted to mark it all down to the usual manipulation. That was his conclusion in his last report to the FBI.’ He grins at me. ‘I’m in and out of his computer as much or more than he is. As you see, it’s the same problem over and over. Nobody takes me seriously about this. Which is why I took the trouble to get your undivided attention.’

  ‘And Darrin Lane? Jimmy Mahan? Gloria Schmid? They didn’t take you seriously with a gun to their throat?’

  ‘You tagged it when you gave me that e-mail this morning. I’ve tried three times already. It just didn’t work.’

  ‘They told you what you wanted to hear,’ I say flatly.

  ‘Any which way I wanted to hear it, for just a few minutes more of life. And I wondered, thinking about it afterward, if any of them had the right kind of insight, anyway. They went to the same seminary you did, took a lot of the same classes. But they just weren’t you. I went to them first because I didn’t want things between us … getting all snarled up. I wanted to keep things clean between you and me. But I couldn’t get there, not without you.’

  He looks at me, quite seriously. ‘I had to motivate you. Make sure you did take me seriously. But I’d never hurt you, Joy. You should know that. You’re the one who put me on this path. And I gave you my word, my promise, do you remember? I told you when your husband hired me to kill you that I wouldn’t ever hurt you. That as far as I was concerned you’d always be safe.’

  ‘Cletus Purcell gave me his word.’ Actually he didn’t, but I’m not bringing that up.

  ‘It was my word, through Cletus. Purcell doesn’t actually have a word. He works on a more primitive level. Honor is a concept he does not comprehend.’

  ‘What a team.’

  ‘Not a team. Purcell follows orders. For the most part anyway. He has an annoying habit of putting his own spin on things. He makes mistakes. They got a fingerprint, from your daughter-in-law’s house in Arkansas. How stupid is that?’

  ‘Maybe too stupid, Mr Harvey.’

  He gives me a focused look. ‘You’re right, I set that up. Sometimes you have to throw those law enforcement types a bone. And it’s getting a little iffy now, working with Cletus. The neighbor, for instance. Stupid. No point killing him, all he saw was a tall man with a mask. And then there’s your cousin.’

  ‘Marsha.’

  ‘She wasn’t supposed to be there. Purcell could have waited until she was out of the house. Should have waited until she was out of the house.’ Harvey sighs. ‘I wasn’t too pleased when he called and told me he’d decided to kill her, but there was no point in arguing. Cletus doesn’t leave witnesses behind.’

  ‘They’re still at the cave, though, Andee and Caro? You didn’t lie about that?’

  Harvey’s face wrinkles up, his voice steady and stern. His eyes change like a nictitating membrane and the camouflage of humanity drops. ‘I don’t lie to you.’

  ‘Are they alive? Caroline and Andee?’

  ‘As of yesterday, yes. That’s why you and I are headed for the cave, Joy. To save them. Cletus is a wild card. He’s got a natural radar for survival and I think he’s beginning to sense the FBI closing in.’

  ‘Then maybe he’s killed them already.’

  ‘We’re on our way to find out. But consider that as far as Clete knows, this is a straight-up kidnapping, set up to skim off the donation money you’ve pulled in with your work. And the one thing I made sure Clete understood was that the girls stay alive till we have the money in hand, otherwise, he doesn’t get his cut. So he’ll see they stay healthy till he gets paid unless he thinks the wheels are coming off and decides to cut and run.’

  ‘Scares easy, does he?’

  Harvey’s tone is gentle. ‘You’ve met him, Joy, you know better than that.’

  I look away. It is dark now. Fallen leaves clog the two lane road that takes us the back way to Wilmore, toward High Bridge.

  ‘So let’s get on with our business, shall we? We’re short on time, let’s get finished.’ Harvey winks. ‘Is there salvation, genuine salvation, for a guy like me?’

  I stare out the window again. It takes willpower not to turn my head.

  ‘Joy?’

  Something in the soft way he says my name makes the fear rise up in my throat.

  ‘Answer my questions, honestly, tell me what I want to know, and then I’ll take you straight to Caroline and Andee. You’ll get your girls back safe.’

  ‘Take me to Caroline and Andee first. Let them go, and do it in a way that I know they’re safe. And then, and only then, Mr Harvey, will I answer any question you want to ask. I won’t bullshit you, or say what I think will make you happy. But you get nothing, you understand me? Until I know my girls are safe.’

  He drives along. He is humming.

  ‘It can’t be the daughter-in-law,’ he says conversationally. ‘Even you must have some kind
of limit on what you’ll sacrifice for the woman who killed your son.’ He reaches into his jacket pocket and I brace myself for the bullet or blade. He rattles something in my direction, a tin of Altoids gum. ‘Help yourself.’

  I smell the cinnamon when he begins to chew.

  ‘Grandchildren,’ he says. ‘On the outside looking in, it doesn’t make that much sense. You don’t raise them. You don’t give birth to them. They’re a generation removed from your own child.’ He taps his finger softly on the wheel.

  ‘You know, of course – you must know, Mrs Miller. That I can make you talk.’

  There is nothing but kindness in his face.

  He tilts his head upward, as if he is trying to remember. ‘“The world breaks everyone and afterward, many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure that it will kill you too … but there will be no special hurry.”’

  He smiles at me, as sweetly as a child. ‘Hemingway. A Farewell to Arms.’

  It is the gentleness I hear in the tone of his voice, that makes the hair stand on the back of my neck.

  THIRTY-SIX

  The road is narrow and meanders from left to right. It is desolate here in the countryside, dark and unfamiliar. The headlights are on high beam, but the darkness hides everything but the next twenty feet of road. I keep my hands twined together in my lap, to hide that they are shaking.

  Every half mile or so we pass a house, and I look at the lights in the windows. I see glimpses here and there – curtains, a dining room table. The glow of a television set.

  Harvey flips the turn indicator, brakes, and we go left, down a steep gravel drive. At the bottom are three security lights that illuminate the mouth of a monster. The entrance is wide enough that we can drive straight in. The ceilings are tall, a good thirty feet. A metal gate, like the ones that barricade storefronts in the mall, has been raised high enough for us to pass beneath.

  Harvey points to the gate. ‘I see that Cletus has the jump on us. He is oscar mike to the zone.’

  The car slows to a crawl and I open my window. Grit and gravel grind beneath the tires, and I see the gleam of eyes near a cluster of rocks – a possum, most likely, hidden in the dark. The air pressure changes as we pass through the entrance. Water that seeps from the limestone floors hisses beneath the tires. The quiet and the envelope of darkness swallow us whole.

  The primitive part of my brain kicks in. The dark. The unknown. The predator at my side. Pressure builds in my chest and I am humiliated by the tears that run down my cheeks. There is no sign of Hal. Of the FBI. Of anyone but me and Harvey. Are they back there somewhere, Caroline and Andee? Who am I to be afraid?

  The car creeps forward.

  Modular offices, like temporary classrooms, branch to the right and left. They have little porches on the front, with porch lights. The office windows are dark, employees gone for the day. What will they find, when they come to work tomorrow? Nothing will ever be the same.

  I get a glimpse of a conveyor belt and machinery behind a metal partition to the right. The bottling operation, no doubt. Harvey bears right and the illumination from the security lights cuts away. My chest goes tight. I feel like I’m being smothered, and I take deep, panicked breaths.

  Harvey turns yet again, and we creep along, and I am already unsure of finding my way back. I see a lake of water; it looks deep. We turn again and I am completely disoriented. I dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands and think about Andee. She is here in this cave, and I will not leave without her. It is that, finally, that keeps me from going over the edge.

  Harvey eases the car alongside a wall and turns off the engine, leaving the headlights on. He leans across the front seat and opens the glove box.

  ‘Flashlights,’ he says.

  There are two of them, small and black, and he hands one to me. It is startlingly heavy.

  ‘In a minute I’ll turn off the headlights.’ His voice is low and I have to bend close to hear. ‘People get kind of freaky, back in the dark like this, when the lights go out. You need to hang tough, OK? Stay quiet and calm. We’re close to the RV where Cletus and the girls are. If you scream or call out, he might hear us. I don’t need to tell you that wouldn’t be good.’

  He flips the switch of his flashlight. ‘Here’s how it’s going to work. You wait here and let me go on ahead. Don’t wander off. If you get lost, no one will find you. There are miles of unexplored passageways back here. And if Cletus spots you, Caroline and Andee are dead. You understand me? You’re clear?’

  ‘I understand you.’

  ‘I’ll tell Cletus that we’re blown, but that I’ve got the money. That the FBI is on to us and we need to close up shop.’

  ‘What money?’

  He shakes his head at me. ‘There isn’t any money, but Cletus thinks there’s a ransom. He’s not doing this for fun.’

  ‘OK. I’m with you.’

  ‘I’ll take the girls with me. We’ll regroup, you, me, Caroline and Andee, and head back out in my car. Then we’ll drop the girls at a house somewhere where there are lights and somebody’s home, or if not that, then some gas station somewhere. That way you’ll know they’re safe, and you and I can sort things out.’

  ‘I get to pick the spot where we drop the girls. So I can be sure it’s not some prearranged drop.’

  He gives me a second look, then nods. ‘If that makes you feel better. Fine with me.’ He scoots to the door of the car. ‘Time for me to get going. Hang right here, just for a minute, and get ready for the lights to go.’

  He pushes the button beneath the dash, pops the trunk and disappears. I hear him rummaging through his luggage. I think about Caroline and Andee. I want to believe what Harvey has told me. That they’re close and we’ll bring them out safe. But why will Purcell let Harvey take the girls, if he doesn’t have his half of the imaginary ransom? This man who never leaves a witness alive?

  Harvey appears suddenly beside my window and motions for me to get out of the car. ‘Just stay behind the car. Sit down, so when Clete and I come up, he won’t see you, and blow this whole thing.’

  He reaches a hand in the open window. Says ‘Ready’ and shuts off the lights.

  It’s like being buried alive.

  I don’t mind dying so much; it’s the getting there that worries me. I flip the switch on my flashlight and focus on the circle of illumination. There is nothing to see but damp walls, a crumbling limestone floor and shadow.

  Harvey’s voice is barely a whisper. ‘If you hear gunfire, stay away from the walls. Bullets tend to travel along walls.’ He salutes. ‘Wish me luck.’

  His light bobs, marking his progress, and I can hear his footsteps and their small echo. The light disappears suddenly, as if he’s turned a corner. I listen, but he’s disappeared. It occurs to me that he could be standing a few feet away, watching to see what I’ll do.

  It is chilly in the cave. Maybe fifty-four degrees. I fold my arms, huddled in Harvey’s sweater. He has worn it recently. It has his smell. I hear the faint sound of water dripping, and notice the smallest caress of an air current on my cheek. The question is, do I stay where I am?

  The psychopath is not your friend.

  Harvey will know if I follow too closely. But I could wait a few minutes, then start out in the direction he went. I wonder – what are my chances of finding the girls?

  It is the easiest thing in the world to become lost in a cave. Harvey said this one has over a million square feet. Mammoth Cave, further west, is still being mapped, with four hundred miles of passageways down, and who knows how many more to go.

  Three hundred and fifty million years ago the local countryside was covered with water, resting beneath a shallow sea. Gradually, as the water level dropped, the land formed sandstone layers at the surface, with limestone layers beneath. A labyrinth of passages was sculpted by rivers underground, and the water is sti
ll there, four hundred and fifty feet below the surface, popping up in underground springs.

  I aim my flashlight upward, trying to keep my mind off cave-ins, a regular occurrence when ceilings in the passageways get too wide to support the bedrock beneath. Jesse James hid out in caves like this. Maybe this one. He made it back out again.

  Not everyone does.

  Floyd Collins was trapped in Sand Cave in 1925 when the ceiling came down, trapping him in the passageway. He had air but could barely move, one foot wedged beneath a rock. The cave-in caused a media frenzy, while rescuers toiled over the treacherously shifting dirt and rock for all of two weeks. A reporter for the Louisville Courier-Journal held interviews with Collins while rescuers tried to get him out.

  The reporter won a Pulitzer; Robert Penn Warren wrote the incident up in a novel that became famous. Floyd Collins died.

  I see no trace of cave life – no crickets, no bats. No water here, so no blind fish. I would feel better if I saw something. Animals have good instincts when they make a home. A cave can be a safe sanctuary, for man and beast. I am picturing the pillars we passed on our way inside, where the rock was blasted and sculpted to make supports. There aren’t any pillars this far back.

  There is a scrape of rock from somewhere behind me. I shine the flashlight over my shoulder but can see nothing in the beam of my light.

  I poke around until I find a pointy sliver of rock. I scrape it on the wall and see that it leaves a mark.

  I’m not going to stay. My gut tells me not to do what Harvey says. And there is zero chance of me finding the girls if I stay where I am. I might not be able to see them, but there’s a good chance I can hear. I remember what I saw in the web cast, the little kitchen where they cooked, toilets that flushed according to Andee, and light. The RV will have a generator, and generators are noisy. If I go in the direction Harvey went, I’ll be able to hear the hum.

  I will walk with one hand on the cave wall and scratch an X in the rock every two or three feet, and be able to find my way back. This isn’t a Greek legend, and I don’t have a ball of twine.