Mary checked the front and back tires on her car. “The tires are beyond hope,” she said with a sigh and then opened the trunk. “All of our luggage is here...our purses look untouched...but the spare tire is cut.”
Betty and Stephanie rushed over to the trunk and looked inside. Stephanie spotted four suitcases, two purses, and a cut spare tire. “What does this mean?” she asked Mary. “You’re the newspaper woman, Mary. You have brains.”
“You’re no slouch in the brains department,” Mary reminded Stephanie.
“I can tell you historical facts,” Stephanie said and glanced up at the autumn sky. “I can tell you when the children of Israel entered the promised land and give you a pretty good time frame of when the walls of Jericho fell, but I’m not a detective. I go by facts and by what my heart tells me...the classroom we’re standing in right now is very strange to me.”
Betty studied the cut tire. “I think...and correct me if I’m wrong...maybe this Mr. Shelton is trying to scare us off.” Betty looked around. “He knows there are more of us than him...and well, as a little girl in school I learned that a bully scares away all the kids by picking on just one.”
“I think what Betty is trying to say is that whoever cut the tires is trying to use our fear against us,” Mary told Stephanie. She closed the trunk and rubbed her chin. “Maybe instead of trying to trap us here...whoever cut the tires is trying to scare us off? I mean...so far we haven't been bothered...and right now we have the perfect chance to leave.”
“But why?” Stephanie demanded. “Why scare us off? What good would that do? I mean, Mary, think about it,” Stephanie continued, feeling her voice becoming filled with frustration, “I can easily return with the sheriff. No...whoever cut the tires is surely trying to trap us at my camp.”
Mary looked at Betty. Betty shrugged her shoulders. “It was only a suggestion,” Betty said.
“And a good suggestion at that,” Mary promised Betty. She walked her eyes around, examined the beautiful autumn day, listened to a faraway woodpecker tap at a tree, watched falling leaves dancing in the crisp winds, and then, without warning, called out: “Mr. Shelton...Mr. Andy Shelton!”
“Mary!” Betty gasped.
Mary held up a firm but worried hand. “Mr. Shelton, I know you can hear me. I know you’re watching me right this second. Please, we need your help. A woman has been poisoned to death.” Mary looked at Stephanie. Stephanie drew in a nervous breath, held up her hands as if to say “This is your show,” and waited. “Mr. Shelton, Stephanie told us that you were very upset when you lost this land to her, but please, you have to put your anger aside and help us. A woman is dead and we think we know who killed her. We need your help.” Mary paused, searched the woods, and listened as silence fell.
“Mary, I don’t think...what I mean to say is, I think we need to get our legs moving,” Betty begged. “I’ll grab our purses and we’ll leave right this minute.”
Mary continued to search the woods. “Mr. Shelton, whatever grudge you have against Stephanie has to end right now,” she called out. “My friend and I are innocent and only wish to find the sheriff. We have no ill feelings toward you and we’re hoping that deep down you’re a decent man who will do the right thing and help us.”
“Andy Shelton is a slime,” Stephanie told Mary in a disgusted voice. “He wouldn’t help an old lady cross the street.” Stephanie kicked the back left tire on Mary’s car. “He cut all of these tires, Mary. Do you really think he’s going to help us?” Stephanie looked around the woods. “Did you hear me, Andy?” she hollered. “You’re a slime! You’re a yellow-bellied, good-for-nothing coward!”
Mary began to quiet Stephanie down when she saw movement in front of her. She squinted her eyes and saw a man step out from behind a large tree dripping with brightly colored leaves. The man was tall, powerful, and looked like a lumberjack ready for battle. “I may be a lot of things, Stephanie Aires, but I’m not a coward!” he hollered.
Stephanie threw her eyes at the man and then rolled her eyes. “So it was you,” she said to the man. “I should have known you would sink this low.” Stephanie kicked the back tire of Mary’s car again. “You cut all these tires.”
Andy remained in place, staring at Stephanie, Mary, and Betty with careful eyes. “I didn’t cut the tires,” he called out. “I don’t know who did.”
“Oh, come on,” Stephanie said in an amazed voice, “don’t stand there and plead innocent with me, Andy Shelton. I remember what you told me in court. I remember the threats you made!”
Andy rubbed his thin red beard. “Yeah, I guess I did act pretty foolish,” he told Stephanie. “I let my temper control my tongue...but I swear, Stephanie, my temper wasn’t aimed at you. I was mad at Tom Mintson and Dylan Roltdale.”
“Oh really?” Stephanie yelled in disbelief. “Andy Shelton, you sure have a funny way of showing you’re not angry at someone. Why, ever since I’ve arrived on this land you have done nothing but cause me problems. You’ve run me off more times than I can count and—”
“I’ve never hurt you!” Andy interrupted Stephanie. “I’ve always told you that this land is dangerous and that you don’t belong here.”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “All you want is the gold that is supposedly buried on this land somewhere...gold, by the way, that does not exist.”
“You have no proof of that!” Andy yelled. He lowered his eyes and examined the brown button-up shirt he was wearing over a worn pair of work jeans. Then he ran his right hand through his messy red hair. He sure looked a mess—and he sure was hungry, too—but he wasn’t a killer, even if he was after millions worth of gold. “You’re stating your case based off opinion and nothing more.”
Mary studied Andy with intelligent eyes, evaluated his words, the tone of his voice, and his body posture. She didn’t see a killer—or even a violent man, for that matter. Instead, Mary saw a man who was lost inside of his own heart; the same way Stephanie was lost inside of her own heart. “Mr. Shelton, we need to get to town and locate the sheriff. Will you please help us?”
“I would if the tires on my own truck weren’t cut,” Andy told Mary and dared to walk out into the open, revealing himself in full. “My truck is parked off a fire lane half a mile down the road. Whoever cut your tires got to my truck, too.” Andy searched the woods. “I know this land pretty good but so far I’ve not seen anyone but you.”
Mary knew Andy was speaking the truth. Stephanie, on the other hand, thought otherwise. “Oh, you’re good,” she told Andy, resisting the urge to charge up to the man and slap him in the face. “You’re a very good liar, Andy Shelton.”
“I’m not lying,” Andy fussed at Stephanie. “You’re the most hard-headed woman I’ve ever met, do you know that? Here I am telling you the honest truth and you’re calling me a liar.” Andy shook his head. “Ever since you’ve arrived, you’ve been nothing but a headache. I warned you to leave...but do you listen? No! I begged you to leave...but do you listen? No!”
“You’re not scaring me off my own land, Andy Shelton,” Stephanie fussed back.
“I’m not trying to scare you...I’m trying to protect you!” Andy yelled and kicked the ground. “Boy, you sure take the cake.”
Mary held her hand out at Stephanie to silence her. “Mr. Shelton, who are you trying to protect Stephanie from?”
Andy looked up at Mary. “I wish I knew,” he confessed and then reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bunch of letters. “I get these letters,” he said and held up the letters in the air. “In each letter I’m warned to get off the land and take Stephanie with me. I don’t know who is sending me these letters. I...I’m not scared for myself, you have to understand. But Stephanie...she comes up here alone...she can get hurt.”
“I can take care of myself!” Stephanie snapped at Andy. “I’m not a weak person.”
Andy lowered the letters. “Listen to me you hard-headed...woman!” Andy growled. “A woman is lying dead on the trail. That woman could have
been you! Don’t you see that?” Andy marched over to Mary and held out the letters. “Here, read them...read all of them. You, too,” he told Betty. “I’m not a liar...poor and hungry maybe...but not a liar.”
Mary looked into Andy’s hungry face. “Betty, open the trunk and pull out the sandwiches we bought from the diner in town. The brown bag I put the sandwiches in are in my suitcase.” Stephanie began to object, saw how hungry Andy was, and held her tongue.
“Got it,” Betty told Mary and hurried to fetch the sandwiches. A minute later she returned with a brown bag full of six peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. “Here you go...please eat,” Betty told Andy and held out the bag with a shaky hand. “You look...starved.”
Andy looked into Betty’s caring face, offered her a kind smile, and gently took the bag of sandwiches from her. “I’m very grateful,” he said.
“You should be,” Stephanie told Andy. She plopped against the passenger’s side door of Mary’s car and folded her arms. “So what now?”
Andy opened the brown bag, took out a sandwich, and nearly ate the entire thing down in one bite. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself,” he said and quickly brought out a second sandwich. “I thought about walking out of here but I didn’t want to leave...” Andy paused, looked at Stephanie the way a worried husband would a wife who was in danger, and sighed. “I was afraid you might be in danger, okay.”
“Oh, don’t play the hero with me, Andy Shelton,” Stephanie fussed. “You’re no saint. All you are is a selfish, gold-digging...jerk.”
Andy lowered his eyes, worked on the second sandwich, and then said: “I admit that I am searching for gold. If that makes me a jerk...then so be it. But I’m not a coward or a criminal.”
“Then why aren’t you off fighting in the war like a real man instead of gold hunting?” Stephanie demanded.
Mary closed her eyes, thinking of her husband flying dangerous bombing missions over Europe. She felt a deep pain and fear grip her heart. “Stephanie...please leave the man alone,” she begged. “If he was going to harm us...or you...he would have long ago.”
“No...no, it’s okay,” Andy told Mary. He set the brown bag down on the top of the car and looked directly at Stephanie. “I tried to join the Army, Miss Aires, but they refused me.”
“What in the world for?” Betty asked.
Andy tapped his chest. “I was born with a heart defect,” he explained. “The heart defect isn’t dangerous. The truth is I’ll probably outlive most men my age. But the Army...even the Navy...turned me down.” Andy locked his eyes on Stephanie. Sorrow consumed his eyes. “My brother was killed...at Pearl Harbor. I tried to enlist immediately after I heard the news. Instead of being allowed to defend my country I was turned away like I was some kind of...circus freak, Miss Aires.”
“I’m...sorry,” Stephanie told Andy. “But that’s no excuse to—”
“To fulfill a promise I made to my mother?” Andy asked.
“A promise?” Stephanie asked.
“Yes, a promise,” Andy said. “The people who lived on this land before the Army forced them onto a reservation are my mother’s people, Miss Aires. My mother told me and my brother about hidden gold that her people buried here. She made us promise to find the gold...but never told us what to do once we found it or even where the gold might be buried. My brother and I didn’t take her very seriously, but we did promise to find the gold for her one day...just to make her feel better, you know. My mother was very old at the time.”
Andy looked down at his hands and continued. “My mother died four years before Pearl Harbor. Unknown to me she sent my brother a letter before she died, begging him to find the gold...I guess she knew I wasn’t interested. After my brother died, I found the note in an old chest in my mother’s attic.” Andy kept his eyes low. “My brother wasn’t married and left all of his belongings in my mother’s attic.” Andy raised his eyes up to the sky. “My mother’s words...her pleading...begging my brother to find the gold...it broke my heart...so I took every cent I owned and bought this land from Pastor Whitfield. Of course, people think I forced the good pastor to sell his land to me. Rumors are vicious dogs that bark loudly but have no bite.”
“Did you scare Pastor Whitfield into selling my camp to you?” Stephanie asked.
Andy shook his head. “Pastor Whitfield couldn’t pay the land taxes was about to lose the entire place,” he explained. “The good pastor was losing his church due to people moving away, searching for work. He was offered a pastoral position in another part of the state and was very happy when I offered to buy his land. That’s the truth of it. But that dirty, good-for-nothing Tom Mintson began telling people I threatened the good pastor.”
Stephanie began to object to Andy calling Tom Mintson “good for nothing” but bit down on her tongue. As much as she hated to admit it, it did appear—at least in her eyes—the man she despised was actually speaking...the truth. “The camp is mine now,” was all she could say.
“I know,” Andy replied in a sad voice, grabbing the brown bag full of sandwiches. “Looks like I failed to keep my promise. But at least I can still do some good and help you ladies get safely back to town.” Andy pointed to the dirt road. “Let’s start walking,” he said and gulped down a third sandwich. “If we keep a good pace, we should reach the main road before the sun sets on us. I just wish I had my rifle on me...but I sold it to try to make my tax payments.”
Mary studied Andy’s eyes and saw a good man. “Mr. Shelton, thank you for being honest and for deciding to help us,” she said, taking Betty’s hand. “Let’s get out of here,” she told Betty and forced a smile to her lips. “It’s time to go home.”
Betty glanced around the autumn woods. Something in her gut told her that that escaping Stephanie’s camp was going to be much more difficult than it appeared. Somewhere out in the woods a dangerous killer was lurking, unseen and unheard, in the darkness. And down by the lake two vicious killers were planning how to carry out their ruthless plan.
“We can try,” Betty told Mary in a worried voice and began walking, feeling two dangerous eyes watching her every step.
Chapter Four
On hopeful legs, Mary approached the wooden bridge she and Betty had driven across. So far the walk had been peaceful—even beautiful—regardless of the horrible circumstances trailing behind. But as soon as Mary saw the wooden bridge, the peace and hope rising in her heart dropped down onto the ground like wet sand. “Oh no!” she cried out.
“My goodness,” Betty exclaimed and grabbed Mary’s hand.
“How?” Stephanie demanded in an exasperated voice.
Andy eased up to the wooden bridge...only, the bridge was missing. He lowered his eyes and dropped them down into the ravine below. The sight of the raging river staring up at jagged rock walls greeted his eyes. “We’ll have to walk two miles downriver before we can cross over. The water is too dangerous to cross here,” he said, trying to remain calm.
Mary eased close to Andy and glanced down at the angry river. For a mere second she saw herself falling over the edge, tumbling down the rocky walls and landing in an open, watery mouth that would swallow her whole. “Oh my,” she whispered and quickly backed away to Betty, stepping on hard, dry dirt and jagged rocks.
Stephanie threw caution to the side and marched up to Andy. “The bridge was secured with some very powerful ropes and new support beams,” she said in an upset voice. “I examined the bridge myself.” Stephanie threw her eyes at Andy. “Securing this old bridge was the only thing you did right...”
Andy ran his hands down into the front pockets of his work jeans. “The county made me fix the bridge before they would allow me to drive my truck across. I was ordered to pay a contractor more money than I could afford. I...had no choice. If I could have,” Andy continued in an honest voice, “I wouldn’t have wasted a single penny on this bridge.”
“Well, thank you for being honest,” Stephanie told Andy and sighed.
Andy pointed nor
th, keeping his eyes on the raging river below. “The river has no safe crossings north of here,” he said. “The safe crossing I found south of here was too far to walk. I needed quick access to the camp and couldn’t afford to lose time by walking up the road, drifting out of my way to cross the river at a safe spot, and then climbing my way back to the camp.”
“Well, as I said...thank you for being honest,” Stephanie told Andy again and then asked: “Now what? Do we walk to the safe crossing?”
Andy shrugged his shoulders. “We could,” he said and turned to Mary and Betty. “We have to navigate some pretty rough terrain and climb down some pretty steep hills. It’ll be slow going, but if you ladies think you can handle the journey, we can try.”
Mary shook her head. “Mr. Shelton, one man couldn’t have destroyed this bridge alone. At least, I’m assuming one man couldn’t have destroyed this bridge alone.”
Andy looked back down and studied the destroyed section of the bridge. That’s when he noticed the even, smooth saw cuts. “You’re right, Mrs. Holland,” he said in a curious voice, “one man didn’t do this...at least I don’t think so. I mean, it’s possible, but it would take a mighty long time. When the contractor I hired to work on the bridge arrived, he had four men with him and it took those men a good part of the day to repair the bridge.”
Stephanie felt panic grip her heart. She walked over to Mary. “Mary, what are you trying to say?”
“I’m not sure...yet,” Mary confessed. She looked at Andy, thought about the letters in his pocket, and then shook her head. “Stephanie, was there anyone else interested in buying this land from Andy besides you?”
“I...Dylan never hinted at anyone else showing any interest,” Stephanie answered Mary. “I suppose there could have been more interested buyers.”
Murder at Camp (Pineville Gazette Mystery Book 5) Page 5