“Or maybe he’s just enjoying playing the game of terror,” Jimmy countered.
“Maybe, but it’s definitely a sick game.” Frank jumped as his cell phone rang. He saw by the caller identification that it was Chelsea.
“The little creep is on the move,” she said tersely. “He almost got away. He crept out the tavern’s back door and got into a friend’s truck and they took off. If I hadn’t noticed Michael in the passenger seat as they passed me by, I would have missed him altogether because his car is still parked in the lot at the tavern.”
“Where are they now?” Frank asked, sitting up straighter in his chair as he fumbled his car keys out of his pocket.
“They’re headed up Pine Ridge Road.”
“Into the mountains,” Frank said. “Stay with them but don’t let them notice, and if they stop someplace, call me. I’m headed that direction for backup.”
“What’s up?” Jimmy stood as Frank got out of his chair.
Frank quickly relayed the information. “Mind if I ride along?” Jimmy asked.
“Definitely fine by me.”
Within minutes the two men were in Frank’s car and headed in the direction of Pine Ridge Road. “Could be nothing more than a wild-goose chase,” Frank said as he stepped on the gas. “It’s possible some of those young kids are using an old cabin to smoke dope or drink themselves silly.”
“They can drink themselves silly at the tavern,” Jimmy countered. “And as far as smoking pot, that can be done anywhere in town after dark. They don’t need to head up to the mountains to do that.”
Frank gripped the steering wheel tightly as he turned onto the road where someplace ahead Michael was in a car with Chelsea following.
“Maybe this will somehow explain why Michael has been stealing food,” Jimmy said. “Maybe he really is keeping somebody in a cabin up here.”
“I’m just wondering how often he’s slipped away from Chelsea by going out the back door of the tavern and getting into another vehicle,” Frank replied.
“Hopefully in the next few minutes we’ll have some answers.”
Frank’s phone rang again and he answered, punching the speaker button so that Jimmy could hear Chelsea’s latest update.
“They’ve turned off Pine Ridge and left onto Bear Mountain Road,” she said.
“Got it,” Frank replied. The road they traveled was narrow and heavily wooded on either side. It took all of his concentration to go as fast as possible without being reckless.
“Bear Mountain Road? There isn’t much on that road except a bunch of old abandoned places.”
“Has the search team been along that road yet?” Frank asked.
“I don’t think so. They’re working closer to town still.” Jimmy braced himself with a hand on the dash as Frank whirled around the turn that put them on Bear Mountain Road.
Frank accelerated once again, his headlights bouncing off the narrow road and lighting the trees that crowded as if attempting to take over the last spread of old asphalt. When he spied taillights in the distance, he slowed. This was a road little traveled, and he knew the taillights probably belonged to Chelsea.
He wasn’t sure when his heart had begun to beat so quickly, when the idea of some kind of answer being imminent had filled his head, but sharp expectation sizzled through him. He fisted the steering wheel tightly in his hands.
As they passed several overgrown driveways, his phone rang again. “They’ve just pulled into a place,” Chelsea said. “I’m going to drive on by and park about half a mile away on the old Blackberry Trail. I’ll wait for you here and then we can go in on foot.”
“Hang tight. We’re almost there.” Frank dropped his phone back in his pocket.
“This is just too weird,” Jimmy said, an edgy tone in his deep voice.
Frank slowed his speed even more, gazing at each driveway they passed on the left while Jimmy looked on the right. Thankfully the moon was nearly full and spilled down an additional glow on the otherwise-dark landscape.
“There,” Jimmy said and pointed to a driveway just ahead where a car was parked next to what appeared to be a dilapidated old two-story house with a sagging porch and weeds and brush that threatened to the point of near invasion.
There were no lights on in the house, Frank noted as he cruised by slowly. Other than the car parked in front, there was no indication of life.
It took Frank only minutes to turn onto Blackberry Trail, where Chelsea’s car was just ahead of him and she leaned against the back bumper with a flashlight in hand. Gone was her black wig and hat, and her blond hair shone in the moonlight, reminding Frank of the silky lengths of Marlene’s hair.
Had he been brought here to destroy any dreams the sisters might have of finding their aunt alive? Were the two young men responsible for some sick kidnapping? Even if Liz was still alive, there was no assurance that she’d ever be the same after this kind of an ordeal.
He and Jimmy got out of their car, and Chelsea approached them, her pretty features taut with both anticipation and irritation. “I have no idea how many times in the last week Michael has given me the slip by sneaking out in somebody else’s car.”
“Don’t worry about that now,” Frank said. “Did you recognize the driver of the car?”
“Cliff James. He and Michael are best buddies,” she replied. “I can’t imagine what they’re doing up here in that house.”
Frank drew his gun. “Let’s go find out.”
Together the three of them headed toward the house, making little noise as they fought through brush and tall weeds until they reached the car in the driveway.
Frank motioned for Jimmy to head around the back and Chelsea to go around the side while he crept silently up the rickety stairs to the porch. The front door was closed and the only sound was the thunder of his heartbeat. This could be nothing, or it might possibly be the place where Liz Marcoli was being held for some unknown reason.
He had no idea if either of the men inside had weapons, but functioned with the possibility that they did. He wanted this to be a rescue mission. More than anything he wanted to prove to Marlene that he could get a job done, that he could bring her aunt back alive.
He placed his hand on the doorknob and slowly twisted, then pushed it open, pleased that it didn’t creak or groan. He stepped into a fully furnished living room, but his focus was immediately captured by a faint light and the sound of voices that came from what he assumed was the kitchen.
Gun firmly in hand, he jumped into the doorway, gun leveled at Michael, his friend Cliff and three little children who began to sob.
Chapter 13
“What in the hell is going on here?” Frank asked. The kids, a boy and two girls, looked to be between the ages of five and nine.
“Would you put the gun down?” Michael asked. “You’re freaking them out.” He pulled the smallest one, a little girl, closer to him. “It’s okay, Claire. He’s not a bad man. He’s a policeman.”
Frank lowered his gun at the same time Jimmy came into the back door. The bitter disappointment that they hadn’t found Liz Marcoli was on hold as he tried to process the scene before him.
A kerosene lantern cast ghostly shadows on the walls around the table where the five were seated. Next to the kerosene lantern was a loaf of bread, a package of bologna and several bananas and apples.
“What’s going on here, Michael?” Frank asked again, unable to understand what exactly these kids were doing here with the two young men.
“Why don’t I go talk to the nice man and you all stay here with Chelsea, Jimmy and Cliff,” Michael said to the kids.
“You want to see the pictures I drew today?” the middle girl asked as Chelsea sat down next to her.
“Sure, that would be nice,” Chelsea said, her voice calm and normal as if find
ing kids in an abandoned house was an everyday occurrence.
Frank followed Michael out of the kitchen and into the darkness of the living room toward the window where a spill of moonlight trickled in.
“You’d better have a good story to explain all this,” Frank said.
Michael shrugged. “All I’ve got is the truth. Three months ago their granny went into town and had a heart attack and died. Apparently nobody knew that they were here with their granny,” Michael explained.
“What’s Granny’s name?”
“Edna Mayfield.”
Frank remembered the old woman who had dropped dead in the grocery store. Although people knew she had a daughter, it came to light that the daughter had died several years before, but Frank didn’t remember seeing any information about grandchildren. “But we came here after Edna’s death to look for information on next of kin,” Frank said.
“The kids hid in the woods while you all were here. Apparently Edna had told them that if they ever ended up in foster care, they’d be separated and never see each other again.”
“So how did you get involved in all of this?”
Michael shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and leaned against the window. “I was just driving by one day, and Adam, he’s ten, flagged me down and told me they’d been alone out here for weeks and had run out of food. He wanted to know if I’d get them something from the store and he’d give me the allowance he’d saved up. I told him I didn’t want his allowance.”
Michael stared out the window and then turned to face Frank, misery written in the pale light of the moon. “I knew I should turn them in, tell somebody about them. But that night I brought them food and they were so scared and didn’t want to leave here, didn’t want to leave each other, so I figured I’d take care of them for a couple more days...and then days turned into weeks.” He shrugged again. “I thought I could make them not be afraid to leave here.”
“This is why you’ve been stealing food.” It wasn’t a question, but rather it was a statement of understanding.
Michael nodded. “I tried to get them something every other day or so. They don’t have electricity or gas, but their water is from a well, so they’ve managed to take care of themselves except for the food issue. Adam has been a good big brother trying to take care of his sisters.”
He pulled his hands from his pockets and sighed. “And then I kind of got attached to them, and even though I knew it was right to contact the authorities, I just kept putting it off.”
“You know I’ve got to take them tonight,” Frank said, his entire impression of Michael Arello changed by what he’d tried to do for these orphaned children.
“Yeah, I know. As much as I care about them, I know they don’t belong here in this crappy old house with nobody except me to love them whenever I could sneak up here. I just hope wherever they go, they get to stay together.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Frank replied.
“Can I tell them what’s happening? It will be less scary coming from me.”
“I don’t have a problem with that,” Frank agreed.
Together they went back into the kitchen. “Adam, Emily and Claire, this is Detective Frank and he’s going to see to it that you’re all taken care of now. It’s time for you to say goodbye to this house and look forward to new places and new people who are going to love you.”
“But we love you, Michael,” Emily said, her brown eyes far too solemn for a little girl.
“I love you all, too. But I told you eventually we’d have to make some changes, and now it’s time for that to happen.”
“We’re okay here,” Adam protested. “I can take care of us.” He raised a pointy little trembling chin. “If I could drive a car, then I could get a job and get us food and stuff.”
Michael crouched down in front of him. “You aren’t old enough to do that right now. You’ve done a terrific job taking care of your sisters, Adam, but it’s not your job.” He clapped the young boy on the back and stood. “Detective Frank is going to take you all someplace where you don’t have to be scared or hungry anymore.”
The littlest girl, with blond ringlets and big blue eyes, held her arms out to Frank. Frank automatically picked her up in his arms.
“Are you gonna be my new daddy?” she asked and gave him a smile that shot straight through to his heart.
“No, but I’m going to take you to a woman who can help you find a new daddy,” he replied.
She kissed him on the cheek. “That would be so nice. I’ve never had a daddy before.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and nestled next to his chest, trusting that he would do as he’d said.
The sweet scent of childhood, coupled with the trusting, skinny arms around Frank’s neck, reminded him that at one time he’d wanted children of his own, but he’d never had a chance and had given up on that particular dream.
“Are you taking them to Jasmine’s?” Chelsea asked.
Frank nodded. Jasmine Drexell lived in Wolf Creek and worked for Child Protective Services. She’d take the children for the night and then figure out a placement with foster parents that would hopefully keep them all together as a family unit.
“I’ll ride back to the station with Chelsea,” Jimmy said.
“Am I in trouble?” Cliff asked. “All I did was drive him here a couple of times.”
Michael offered Chelsea a small smile. “I knew you were tailing me. Even with the dumb black wig and ball cap I knew it was you.”
“Nobody is in trouble right now,” Frank replied, trying not to notice how sweet it felt to hold little Claire in his arms, attempting not to remember long-ago dreams of having a family of his own.
The detectives helped the children gather up bags of clothes and favorite stuffed animals, and then they were all loaded into Frank’s car for the drive to Jasmine’s place.
He made a quick call to the CPS worker, and as he drove back toward town the children asked questions, most of which he couldn’t answer, but he did his best to assure them. He had a feeling that although they had concerns about what was going to happen next, there was also a tremendous relief that they’d no longer be all alone in that big old house.
Frank couldn’t believe the courage the children had displayed staying in that house alone for so many hours, so many days after their grandmother’s death. The old woman hadn’t done them any favors making them afraid to seek help, making them believe that if anyone took them from the house they would never see one another again.
“It’s like a new adventure,” Adam told his sisters as Frank pulled into Jasmine’s driveway. “We’ve got to forget about Granny and the past and just believe that something good is going to happen.”
There was something heartbreaking as they all got out of the car and Adam took each of his sisters’ hands. Three against the world. They reminded him of what the Marcoli sisters must have been like when they were young.
Three little girls abandoned by their mother and not knowing their fates, how strong they’d had to be to survive and thrive.
Jasmine Drexell was a tall, attractive redhead in her mid-thirties. She greeted them warmly and assured Frank that she already had a foster family in mind who lived in Hershey and would keep the children together.
He left Jasmine’s place and headed home, wishing instead he were headed to the tavern to see Marlene. She was in his head, in the very air he breathed. There was nothing he wanted to do but run up the stairs at Travis’s, take her in his arms and make love to her until dawn broke across the sky. He wanted to taste her lips again, caress her silky skin, and watch her eyes as they went dark and filled with desire.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that. It was as important as ever that she remain isolated, that he keep his distance for as long as possible to assure her safety. He knew the killer had seen them togethe
r, and therefore he knew it would be far too easy for the person to tie Frank’s movements and Marlene’s location together.
It was time for him to go to his silent, lonely home and stretch out on his lumpy, uncomfortable sofa and figure out how he was going to tell her that two of their potential suspects were suspects no longer.
He’d hoped to find Liz Marcoli in that house. That was what he’d expected when he’d gone up the porch to check out what was going on. But at least they had solved the case of why Michael had been stealing food, and Jasmine would see to it that those three brave little children found a good place to call home.
Now he had the terrible job of telling Marlene that she was still in danger and he didn’t have a damn clue as to who might be after her or why they’d want her dead.
* * *
Marlene sat in the middle of the bed, grateful that it was a Wednesday night and the tavern below was relatively quiet. Travis had been good about bringing up meals for her, but his cooking skills seemed limited to everything deep-fried. He’d even delivered her fried mushrooms and a dipping sauce for breakfast that morning.
The only contact she’d had with anyone other than Travis was phone calls with Frank, who had told her about finding the children Michael had been attempting to care take of, and that Matt had a solid alibi for everything that had happened to her.
If not Matt, if not Michael, then who? It was a question that went around and around in her head. The one thing she was certain of was that she was growing tired of being shuffled around like cards in a game where she didn’t know the rules.
She was tired of being alone with only phone calls for contact. It was ironic that in the year since Matt, she’d wanted isolation, she’d kept herself distant, ultimately allowing him to win in the death of her soul.
But somehow since the night those bullets had flown, she’d found her spirit, her desire not just to live, but to live well. Whoever was after her had actually done her a favor by shaking her out of the numbness and grief that had kept her moving through each day without happiness, without any real emotions.
Lethal Lawman Page 17