We were not too interested in telling anyone else yet that same night, which was another reason we chose the fax. We didn’t want someone to notify the paper and then discover the story all over the county as an extra sheet in the weekly Herald the next day. Cora was sure that Jerry Caulfield would stay up all night, if necessary, to put something so juicy in the current issue, if he got his hands on it.
After a bit more than an hour we had a stack of pages with everything we had learned about this case: the patent and partnership, the train wreck, and the obituary, all printed out with the correct dates on each page.
We wrote a cover document explaining how we had found it all, verifying that Cora had the newspapers, and that she had locked them in the Cary safe, along with a set of our copies, to be extra sure nothing would happen to them.
“I’ve never put anything really important in here,” Cora said. “It’s just been on display.”
The cabinet safe was lettered in fancy, gold cursive script: State Bank and below that, Uniform Strength Without.
Cora continued, “I’ve had this since the 90s. It came to me as a donation when the bank was remodeled. It had been in continuous use for one-hundred-three years, and of course, they still had the combination, which they also gave to me. The Cary company custom lettered cabinet safes for their customers. But by 1996, the safe was just too small and old for the bank’s modern needs and new look.”
I hoped it was as secure as it had historically been. Obviously, Kevin had taken the newspaper that came from inside my wall away from Cliff, and had probably destroyed it. We really wanted to keep these papers safe, since they were the best evidence we had. There couldn’t be very many copies of these editions left anywhere. Of course, if the patent had been granted, or even legally applied for, it should still be on file with the national Patent Office.
That one strip of newspaper I’d found on Kevin’s desk might have torn off without him even realizing it. But that didn’t explain how he would have known I had it in my bag. I couldn’t figure that one out.
Finally, Cora and I looked at each other. “Ready?” she asked.
“Let’s send it,” I said with a nod.
Cora loaded the stack of prepared pages into the fax tray, and punched in the fax number of Tracy’s office, which she found on a dog-eared business card in her desk. We listened to all the beeps and squeals as the machine dialed in, and then watched the pages feed through, one by one.
When the machine had sent them all, we looked at the pages again. “What shall we do with these?” Cora asked. “Do you want to take them with you?”
“No, I sure don’t. Let’s put them in the safe too.”
It was a good test of the ancient lock mechanism. Cora slowly spun the dial, right, left, and then right again. It was a bit sticky, but we heard the tumblers click, and the door swung open easily when Cora turned the handle. Now that we had begun to think of what we had found as evidence, it was all too easy to become slightly paranoid.
“I feel as if we need to hide all this, in case Kevin is watching us somehow,” I admitted.
“I do too,” Cora said as she closed the heavy door on our stash again. “But, aren’t we being silly? There’s no way he could know what we found, yet.”
“Uh, oh. Did Tom know why it was so important to get the key made? Maybe he would have said something to Kevin.” I shivered.
“No, I never tell Tom details like that. If he should happen to repeat something, then everyone knows about it. He’s hearing impaired, you know, so he always talks too loudly.”
“I wondered about that! But, if Kevin knows about your museum maybe he even figured out what we were looking for without Tom saying anything.”
“It’s possible, but he wouldn’t want to signal his involvement if he weren’t sure we had anything incriminating, would he.”
“Probably not,” I said. “What about the copies on the computer?”
“He’d need my password to log on, unless he’s a good hacker. I’ll be sure to sign out when we’re done, so no one will have easy access. What did you do with the pages that didn’t print right?”
“Good thought. I’ll get them. We can burn them in the sink.”
“I think we should,” Cora agreed. “But I’m sure we are worrying unnecessarily.”
Nevertheless, when we finished in the office, turned off the lights and opened the outer door, each of us involuntarily looked left and right through the dusk beneath the trees.
Chapter 30
We burned the extra printouts, had some more lemonade and finished off the pie. It’s amazing how hungry we had become, solving puzzles. But the aroma of charred paper did not improve the ambiance. We should have done those activities in the other order.
“It’s time for me to go home,” I said. “We’ve done everything we can until tomorrow.” I didn’t tell Cora I had one more item on my agenda for the day.
“All right, Ana. Be careful. I can’t believe there would be any more danger than there was a few hours ago, but I feel different.”
“I do too.”
We said goodbye, even shared a little hug, co-conspirators on a mission. As I pulled out of Cora’s yard into Brown Trout Lane I realized I hadn’t driven these back roads in the dark before. Because of that, I did drive extra carefully, but I wanted to take my time anyway, to be sure it was completely dark before I made my next stop.
When I reached School Section Road, which was straight, and demanded less of my attention, I reached over and checked to make sure my tiny flashlight was in the glove compartment. It was. I patted my pocket to reassure myself the other items I needed were still there, too. I didn’t waste any more time, but drove straight east and then north on Centerline. It was full dark by this time.
About a half-mile from Teeter’s I turned off my headlights, just before I drove over a slight rise. I didn’t have much experience driving at night with no lights. Actually, I had none. It was a lot harder than it looked on TV. I drove a few feet, and my tires slipped off onto the shoulder and crunched on gravel. I pulled the wheels back onto the pavement and slowed down even more. Gradually, I sensed that my eyes were adjusting to the dark, as I could now see at least the edge of the road, and shapes of trees. Ahead of me was the implement company, but I couldn’t tell exactly where it was yet because the big lighted sign was turned off for the night, part of the county’s pledge to conserve energy. I hoped that same lack of light would also conserve the secrecy of what I wanted to do.
I slowly rolled onto the shoulder a few yards before reaching Teeter’s driveway, came to a stop and turned off the engine. There were no lights on in the building, but there were some security lights mounted on the corners of the roof. I didn’t want any of that light bouncing off the shiny metal of my car, so I chose to park out here on the road. For about five minutes I sat quietly in the car. I pushed the manual switch on the overhead light so it wouldn’t come on automatically when I opened a door (thinking that I’d never anticipated needing to know how to do that, but glad I’d read the manual), pulled out the key to forestall the annoying beeper, and opened the Jeep door so I could listen as well as look. Everything seemed perfectly normal. The evening was cool and overcast, a perfect night for stealthy activities. I had on a navy blue jacket and jeans which would prevent me from being too visible. My sneakers were white, but I couldn’t think of anything to do about them, at this point. I wouldn’t be out in the open very long anyway, according to my plan. I put the small flashlight in my jacket pocket, but hoped I wouldn’t have to use it.
Slipping out of the car was easy; closing the door noiselessly was not. I managed to get the latch to click even though the door was not shut tight. It would have to do; I didn’t want to slam it shut. I waited another minute, a full minute, counting silently to sixty-Mississippi. As far as I could tell, I was all alone except for some chirping frogs, spring peepers. They were singing from a small wetland just beyond the ditch, and I was glad the racket they made woul
d cover at least small sounds.
The ditch extended along the front of Teeter’s property, and that was to be my route. I took a deep breath—if I was really going to do this, now was the time—and in a slight crouch began walking toward the mound where I knew the plow-disc machine sat. In fact, crouched down, it was dimly silhouetted against the diffuse glow from the security lights. Since it was spring the ditch was not clogged with tall weeds, and I managed to keep my feet out of the water at the very bottom. It took less than a minute to reach the edge of the mound, and now I would have to take a bigger risk. After I climbed that hill, I too would be in silhouette. But there was no other way; I had to look at that machine again, and I wasn’t about to do it in daylight when Kevin was sure to see me.
Another deep breath for courage, and I crawled up the hill. The grass was cold and damp, but I ignored everything except my goal. Even when I reached the plow, I didn’t stand up straight. This might keep me from being noticed by someone driving by. So far, I didn’t need the flashlight, and I was glad of that. My eyes had adjusted well to the dark. I pulled the crayon and thin paper out of my pocket. I had found the tissue paper in one of the boxes I’d unpacked in the morning, and the red crayon stub had been in the desk of the museum office. I was hoping the second name would be revealed by making a rubbing of the metal plate.
I looked around, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. The frogs were not as deafening here, but I could still hear them peeping, off in the woods to the south. I turned to my task, and for a few minutes, concentrated on pressing the paper smoothly over the metal plate, and holding it steady with my left hand while rubbing the side of the crayon evenly over the paper. I wouldn’t be able to tell if I’d successfully replicated the second name until I could examine the paper under a strong light. Since I’d managed without the flashlight so far, I didn’t want to risk flicking it on.
I finished the rubbing, and slipped the paper and crayon in my pocket. Crawling down the hill would be very awkward; I had to risk standing up. I straightened, and turned to go back to my car.
Kevin was standing there, pointing a gun at me. “Hello, Ana,” he said.
Chapter 31
I’m not a person who pales in fear and passes out, but I will confess to suddenly having rubber legs. I’d never faced the barrel of a gun before. It was a very small pistol, dwarfed even by Kevin’s average-sized hand. It was probably only a .22, but I knew just enough about guns to know that even a small bullet hole, in the right place, was not going to be good for my health.
“You seemed very interested in my plow-disc,” Kevin continued. “I thought you might come back again for another look, and I doubted you’d be foolish enough to do so in the light. I’ve been waiting for you, almost an hour. What took you so long?”
“I’ve been busy,” I said, trying to keep the quaking in my legs from transferring to my voice.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I don’t know what I’m looking for.” I willed my voice to be even, to try to make Kevin think I did not yet know he was really a killer.
“I don’t believe you,” he said flatly.
“As you like,” I answered with a toss of my head. I found it hard to accept the fact that I was in deadly danger, and his attitude made a flush of anger rise up in me. This made my legs more steady, which turned out to be a good thing.
“Let’s go to your car. I believe it’s over there.” Kevin pointed right at the Jeep. That’s how effective my attempt to be stealthy had been. I couldn’t think of anything else to do. Running away from a gun, in the open, seemed useless, so I started toward the vehicle. “Give me your keys first,” Kevin added.
I didn’t like the sound of that. Was this how Cliff’s last evening on earth had begun? However, I couldn’t see that Kevin had a length of hose hidden anywhere on his person. I thought its shape would have been visible even if it were under his suit coat. The man was dressed for business, even after hours. I handed over the keys. He didn’t ask for the rubbing. I wondered if he had not been able to see enough of what I was doing to know that I had it. He poked me in the ribs with the gun. It was not a pleasant sensation.
“Walk,” he commanded.
At the car, he pointed to the passenger seat and kept the gun pointed on me as I opened the door and climbed in. Still keeping the gun aimed, he walked around the front of the Jeep and got in the driver’s seat. I did not fasten my seat belt.
“Buckle up, Ana. We wouldn’t want you to fall out,” he said. I was sure he wasn’t concerned about my safety. I’d never ridden in the passenger seat before, and when I clipped the belt, I learned that the clip was defective, or maybe just very tight. The tab fit in the slot, but unless you gave it an extra-hard push, it stayed in place but wasn’t latched. This was the best automotive problem I’d ever not fixed. I left it in this un-locked condition. Safety didn’t seem to correctly correlate to being restrained, at the moment.
Kevin transferred the gun to his left hand, but aimed it across his body at me as he started the ignition and put the Jeep in gear. When we were rolling down the road, he put the gun back in his right hand and laid his arm along the back of the seat. The gun nuzzled my neck, and he used his left hand to steer. I wished I knew one of the martial arts, so that I might have disarmed him during the switch. But I didn’t.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I think I’ll take you home. Any decent date would do that at the end of a lovely evening together.”
“If you consider this a lovely evening, you’ve had a limited social life,” I said. I could hardly believe what came out of my mouth. Why was I being sarcastic with a man who was holding a gun two inches from my brain?
Kevin laughed. It was not a nice laugh. “I like a girl with some spunk,” he said. “Perhaps not quite so much as you have, though.”
“How did you know I had that scrap of newspaper from your desk?” I asked.
“You’d be amazed at the things people want to find out when I leave them alone near my office. It’s very simple. I have a small mini cam hooked up that sends its view to my computer. I learn a lot about prospective buyers that way; I just call up the cam feed on my smart phone as soon as I leave the showroom. However, I didn’t realize a strip of that newspaper was still on my desk. You surprised me there.”
“Very clever of you. So, that means you are also my mystery caller.”
“Of course. But, I didn’t succeed in making you stop your prying into other people’s business.”
“It seems to me that ‘other people’s business’ is just what you’ve been doing for about three generations now.” The cat was out of the bag. So much for not letting him know how much I knew. We turned the corner from Centerline onto South River Road. He had to drive more slowly on the dirt, but not slow enough for me to risk jumping out.
“I suppose Cliff showed you the paper and expected you to make good on half of the patent rights.”
“Cliff Sorenson was a fool. No one should be that naïve about business. But he threatened to sue me and that would have been a real drain on finances. I simply played along and offered him a cup of coffee while we talked it over. Good thing he liked it with plenty of sugar to mask the taste of a couple of sleeping pills. The rest was easy.”
“Easy for someone who’s completely heartless. Is that what you call good business?”
“You need to shut up.” His lip curled in a nasty sneer. “I got rid of that newspaper for good, and by tomorrow the nameplate will be gone from the plow-disc. You’re my only loose end.” I wasn’t sure if I should continue to let him think that, or if it was better strategy to tell him it was already too late—many people knew, or would soon know, about his cheating the Sorenson family. Fortunately, he apparently read no particular meaning into my silence.
We turned into the driveway of my house, and approached the entrance to the small trail into the swamp I’d been walking since the water level had gone down a bit. I knew this was my
best chance, to jump out and run for the trail when it would be behind Kevin. He’d have to turn in the seat to aim at me. And time was running out. I had no idea what he had planned, but I was sure he wasn’t just going to drop me off and then leave.
The Jeep slowed. I pulled the door latch, the unfastened seatbelt snapped away, and I rolled out on the ground without even thinking about it.
Chapter 32
It hurt. A lot. But it was the best way. I had been right; it took Kevin a couple of seconds to react, and he had to put the Jeep in park unless he wanted to also jump out of a moving vehicle. By the time I heard footfalls behind me, I was down the trail and around a curve, with trees and darkness between us. I heard a pop, and a tearing of leaves to my right. Then another pop, and more ripping leaves to my left. I thought that .22 revolvers had six bullets but I wasn’t positive. I was, however, counting. Another pop and something smacked into a tree, a tree that was way too close to me for my taste. But, that was three bullets out of the gun, and not into my body. I hoped he didn’t have more shells in his pocket. Apparently he did have a flashlight, because a bright beam of light stabbed through the trees. It looked blue, as if it came from one of those small laser lights.
I knew this trail better than Kevin did, and I was wearing sneakers. He had on dress shoes and was slightly paunchy. Would those advantages be enough for me to outrun him? The light definitely gave him an advantage, but the beam seemed narrow, and would have to be pointed in the exact right direction to catch me. And where did this trail ultimately lead? I’d never followed it all the way to the end, had only gone as far as the large tree that was down across the path. I was trying to recall any sense of how far into the woods that tree was when I ran right into its dark trunk. A gasp of air escaped my lungs, and I fell flat on my back. I knew the noise I had made was loud enough to be heard. How close behind me was Kevin? The trunk of the fallen tree was hung up on some other branches, bent beneath it when it came down, enough to hold it up off the ground. I rolled under the huge log just as two more bullets thwacked into its solid body. I heard bark splinter and the wood fibers rip. The tree was caught in the beam of light, but the large trunk shielded me from light as well as bullets.
1 News from Dead Mule Swamp Page 10