“Don’t worry, sweetie,” she said to the cat as she poured a little water from her water bottle in Mouser’s dish and stuck it in the carrier. “I’ll be back soon.” She cracked open the windows, locked the car and hurried into the restaurant.
At her request, the waitress seated Etta in a booth so she’d have a clear view of the entrance and part of the parking lot. From her seat she might see Butch drive in, would surely see him the minute he entered Shoney’s. She hoped he wouldn’t come, but if he did she could duck down in the booth, maybe get out before he found her.
When the waitress returned to the table to take her order, Etta ordered the breakfast buffet and asked that the check be given to her immediately. The waitress raised an eyebrow.
“I’m in a hurry,” Etta explained. When the waitress just stared at her, Etta smiled and said, “I got myself some serious man trouble. May need to leave in a hurry and I don’t want to stiff y’all.”
“Sugar, I shore do understand. I’ve had some man trouble lately myself.” She tore out the check, placed it on the table. “You have yourself a nice day now.” She patted Etta’s hand and moved to another table.
Etta reached in her purse and pulled out nine one-dollar bills, placed them on the check, covered them with her napkin and hurried to the breakfast buffet. When she returned to her table with a heavily laden plate, she popped a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth and scribbled a note for the waitress telling her who to call and asking her to rescue Mouser from the red Capri if anything happened to her. She gave Butch’s name and address. She’d place it on the table if she saw Butch. Even if she died, Mouser would have a chance at life. And maybe Butch would get what he deserved when the cops found him.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
Thursday, 10:30 a.m.
Aurora looked at her watch and frowned. She’d hoped to be on the road before now, but she’d needed to put some food together to take on their search, make photocopies of a recent picture of Carole to hand out, and several messages on the answering machine had needed attention. When she’d arrived home, there was a message from Robert that sounded urgent, but wasn’t. A call from Dixie Lee saying that Hessie had a broken arm but was improving required a call back. The last message was her doctor’s nurse stating that her recent mammogram was negative.
Now she and King were beginning their search in Franklin County from Hales Ford Bridge down 122 to Scruggs Road, then on to 40. Sam would check roads off 122 from Scruggs Road to Route 40 in Rocky Mount. They would meet somewhere on 40. Luke would cover Bedford County beginning at Hales Ford Bridge. Police in all three counties were involved. Game wardens searched the lake by boat.
On the lookout for Carole’s car, Aurora cruised country roads dotted with houses, collapsed buildings, house trailers, barns, and abandoned cars. No back roads would be left unsearched. She tried to remember what the deputies had said about the newspaper clippings in Win’s room. All the murdered women had been found in desolate, heavily woody areas. Aurora sighed. Franklin County claimed thousands of square miles answering that description. So did Pittsylvania and Bedford Counties. Finding Carole alive promised to be a daunting task, perhaps an impossible one. She trembled at the knowledge of what would happen to Carole if she couldn’t escape from Win.
Aurora drove down a two-mile gravel road until it ended. Four times she stopped pedestrians or people working in their yards and showed them Carole’s picture. No one had seen her or her car. Calls from Luke and Sam proved they were having no success either.
When she reached Westlake, Aurora drove slowly through the shopping areas as she looked for Carole’s car, made a quick pit stop for herself and King at Wendy’s, then continued out Scruggs Road toward Route 40. All the time her concern for Carole escalated.
Furious, Win stood in front of the security guard’s desk. “What do you mean you haven’t found her? Where the bloody hell could she have gone? I know it was dark when she disappeared, and I didn’t notify you until after nine this morning, but her car’s locked up in your garage. She couldn’t get far on foot.”
The guard looked down at his desk, coughed, looked at Win. “Her car’s gone.”
“Gone? How’d that happen?”
“The only thing we can figure,” said Otis, “is that the night people moved a couple cars out of the garage so the Ferrari could back out, then planned to leave the cars out until the Ferrari returned. After all, the woman was with you. At least that’s what you told us.” He patted the gun on his hip. “So don’t you go gittin’ so high and mighty with me, Mr. Ford. You didn’t do so good keepin’ track of her yourself.”
Win tried to control his temper. “So what are you doing to locate her? Is there any way she could drive off the estate grounds without you knowing it?”
“None,” said Otis.
“The entire 400 acres are fenced, most of the fencing has an electric wire across the top,” said the guard seated at the desk. “All four gates have video cameras that we review every six hours. And if any of the gates are breached, an alarm there on the wall goes off. We’re due to look at the tape of the East Gate Entrance at noon. My guess is that will be the one she uses since it’s closer to the road leading away from the garage.”
“Do it now.”
“What?”
“I said do it now, damn you.” Win slammed his fist down on the desk.
“Just who do you think …?”
“You’ll be fired as soon as I make a phone call. Do you want to chance that? If you don’t believe me, call your boss.” Win raised his eyebrow and picked up the phone.
“Guess it won’t hurt none,” said the guard. He hit a remote, then pointed to a TV screen. “We’ll scan the tape, see if anything but birds, deer and other wild critters crossed the road. Most times this is boring stuff, but if you want to watch, help yourself. This here button slows it down, this one speeds it up, and this one stops it.” He stood up and stretched. “I’m gonna git a cup of coffee. Have fun.”
Win slid in the guard’s chair as the video played. With his eyes on Win, Otis leaned against the wall and watched.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Thursday, 10:35 a.m.
At the same time Win was reviewing the tape, an exhausted Carole sat on a fallen pine tree. Her left calf ached from where she’d cut it climbing over the iron gate. At least the bleeding had stopped. She tried to figure how long it had been since she’d last slept. She guessed about 30 hours. Right now it felt more like 300 hours, maybe closer to 3,000. How much longer could she keep going? Resting her head in her hands, she closed her eyes and nearly toppled off the log. Regaining her balance, she checked her cell phone; still no signal.
How could she have been so stupid to get involved with Win? Usually her judgment about people was excellent, a trait she’d inherited from her mother. Except that she hadn’t done too well in the judgment department for a while. Win was a business interest, not a romantic one. But he could be so charming when he chose to be. She admitted to herself that the chance to earn big money—and the need to pay the mortgage—had caused her to ignore her intuition. Aurora had warned her about Win, but she hadn’t listened to her friend. Never again, she thought. If I survive this, I’ll always listen to you, Aurora.
She announced to the forest and any creatures within earshot, “You’re stupid, Carole. After all you did to pay your bills, you’ll never collect a single penny from Win. Too bad. That commission looked really good on paper. But that’s all it was—paper. And empty promises from Mr. I. Winston Ford, jerk number one.”
Carole reached in her jacket pocket, pulled the last cracker out of its wrapping and took a bite. The cracker was stale, but when she first found the package of six peanut butter crackers jammed in her jacket pocket, she wouldn’t have cared if they’d been a year old. She stuffed the last of the cracker back in her pocket and opened her water bottle. Frowning, she screwed the top back on. She needed to conserve the little water that remained. Time to get moving again.
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Most times she tried to stay about fifteen yards from the shoulder of the road in case the guards cruised the road searching for her. Twice she crawled through barbed wire. Cattle grazing in a pasture lifted they heads and looked briefly, then resumed munching. She wanted to move closer to the road, try to flag down a car coming from the opposite direction, see if they’d take her to the nearest town. But what if the vehicle was going to La Grande Maison, had heard that people were hunting for her? No, she’d better not show herself.
Had Win and the guards found Crappy yet? She prayed not. Every minute counted, meant a better chance to escape. She tried to calculate how many miles she’d walked and gave up. She just knew that it seemed like a gazillion.
“Keep going, Carole,” she said. “One foot in front of the other. You can’t afford to get caught.”
In the guard station, Win stopped the tape, backed it up. He called the guards over to the desk. “Look at this,” he said, pointing to the screen. “That’s her car driving off the road. Why didn’t the alarm go off? Oh, damn. There’s Carole climbing the gate. Why didn’t you see it? You idiots are supposed to be watching.” He stood up, bent forward and shook his finger in a guard’s face. “You really are idiots. You know that?”
“I don’t know why the alarm didn’t go off. It’s set to warn us when someone tries to go through the gate. Besides, when the camera caught her and her car, you hadn’t even reported her missing. Maybe you’re the idiot. The guard had probably gone to the bathroom. Like all the other folks in the world, we need to do that occasionally, too. And did it ever occur to you that this woman is a whole lot smarter than you?” asked Otis.
The other guard picked up the phone, dialed a number. “Put the dogs in the Humvee,” he said into the receiver. “We’ll drive ‘em to the gate, then turn ‘em loose. And we’ll need a driver.” He looked at Win, wished Win were the one the dogs would corner, wished they’d rip him into shreds. “The dogs will find her.”
“Will they kill her?” Win hoped not. He had other plans for Carole.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
Thursday, 10:45 a.m.
In the Karver house, Kurt’s mom took his temperature and read 99.6, down from 102 early this morning. His color looked better and he hadn’t thrown up since around six, although he’d said once that his stomach felt queasy. Maybe he’d caught a 24-hour bug; she’d heard something was going around.
“How do you feel now, son?” she asked. “Think you could eat a little chicken broth?”
“Yes, ma’am, I could eat a little. I don’t feel like I’m gonna puke anymore.”
“Good. I’ll fix a tray and bring it up.”
“That’s okay, Mom. I’ll go eat at the kitchen table.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there in a minute.” He stuck his feet in his moccasins and put on a robe.
In the pantry, Mrs. Karver picked up the last can of chicken broth. She was low on a few other groceries, too, items she’d planned to pick up on her way home from work today.
She heated the broth and poured it into a large mug. That way Kurt could sip the soup instead of spooning it into his mouth.
“This is good, Mom. I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”
“You’re eating the last of the chicken broth, and there are a few other things we need. If you’re feeling well enough, maybe I’ll make a quick run to the grocery store this afternoon.”
“I’ll be okay if you leave, but couldn’t you just call Dad and get him to pick up stuff on his way home? He drives right by a couple stores.”
“Normally, yes, but your dad’s in an all-day meeting that includes dinner. I don’t want to bother him except in an emergency.”
The telephone rang. Kurt’s mother answered it.
“I’m sorry. Kurt’s home sick today,” said his mother to the caller. “You’ll have to call back or you can leave your number and he’ll call you when he feels like it.” Pause. “Yes, I know he’s anxious to get the camera.” She glanced over at Kurt who’d guessed the caller’s identity. “He’s signaling that he wants to talk to you, so I’ll put him on, but just for a minute. We don’t want his soup to get cold.” She handed the phone to her son.
“Hello,” he said.
“Kurt, buddy, I’m sorry you’re under the weather. I waited for you at the bus stop this morning, thought maybe you’d forgotten or decided you didn’t want the camera. Wish you’d let me know you weren’t coming.”
“You didn’t leave a number. I don’t even know your name. What did you say it is?” Kurt sipped his soup, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Uh, it’s Smith, Arnie Smith. Listen up, Kurt. I’ve gotta fly out to the west coast tomorrow, to California and Oregon, won’t be back for a couple weeks. You sound like a nice kid. I’d really like to give the camera to you and not to somebody else who doesn’t deserve it. I think you will work with the camera, take the time to study the manual, learn how the camera operates. I think you’ll shoot some amazing pictures.”
“Thanks, Mr. Smith. I sure do want that camera.”
“How about I drop it off in a couple hours, say between one and two. Will your mom still be there?”
“Yes sir, we’ll both be here, except for when Mom runs to the grocery store.”
“Anybody else be home? Your dad, perhaps?”
“No, sir. Dad’s at work.”
“I don’t want to come when a parent’s not home. I don’t think that’s proper. What time do you think your mother will be gone?” Jasper could hardly contain his excitement. Finally things were beginning to go right for him.
“Let me ask her.” Kurt turned to his mom. “Mom, it’s Arnie Smith, the camera guy. He wants to know when you’ll be here so he can bring me the camera, says he doesn’t want to come if you’re not home.”
“How thoughtful.” She looked at her watch. “It’s 10:50 now. I’ll leave in five minutes, should be back by noon. That is if you’re sure you feel well enough for me to go.”
“Aw, Mom. I’m not a baby.”
His mother laughed.
“Mr. Smith, Mom’s leaving at 10:55, should be back an hour later. That okay with you?”
“Kurt, that will work just fine. And I look forward to meeting you and your mother, and showing you how to operate this incredible camera. See you around 12:15.”
Parked down the street, Jasper hung up his cell phone and watched the Karver house through binoculars. He could hardly wait for Kurt’s mother to drive off. His foot tapped to heavy metal playing on the radio. His cell rang. He checked caller ID, turned the music down and answered.
“Where the hell are you?” Jasper asked.
“In a rest station in North Carolina,” said Butch.
“North Carolina? Why?”
“Because Etta’s scared and she’s running to her sister in New Bern.” Butch tensed as a small red car turned into the parking area. He fingered the gun on the seat, then relaxed. The car was an Altima, not a Capri. He relaxed.
“You told me early this morning Etta was as good as dead. On the road to New Bern isn’t dead. At least, it wasn’t the last time I checked.” Jasper picked up the binoculars, looked at Kurt’s house, put them down. “Wanna tell me what happened?”
“I got to her house just minutes after she left. The coffee pot was still warm, so you know how close I came to catching her. Would have if I hadn’t had to stop behind school busses, three of them yellow things. I would’ve passed two of ‘em, but a cop was right behind me. Couldn’t chance it. Damn those busses and damn the cops. It’s not my fault, Jasper.”
It never is, Butch, thought Jasper. But that will change soon.
“Did you hear me, Jasper?”
“I heard you.” Jasper tried to figure out another way to incriminate Butch in three murders: Etta’s, Kurt’s, and Butch’s. Suicide for Butch? Jasper would have to think about that one a little more. Originally he’d hoped to make Etta’s death and Butch’s look like
a lovers’ quarrel. But now….
A minivan pulled up beside him. “I’ve gotta go,” said Jasper. “Call me when you find her.”
The driver waved, smiled, and rolled down the window. Jasper groaned. He recognized the nosey old battle axe who lived next door to Hessie. He rolled his window down, pasted a smile on his face.
“Mr. Smoot, how good to see you. So sorry to hear about Hessie. I know you must have been frantic when you discovered her missing and then found that she had wandered up on Smith Mountain. I trust she’s doing well?”
“She is. And thank you for asking.” Jasper had no clue how Hessie was doing. And he couldn’t care less. He thought the Karver’s garage door opened, but he couldn’t be sure. He strained to see. Nope, he needed to use his binoculars.
“Interesting that you would be parked on the road instead of in Hessie’s driveway. Hers is only a few houses away.”
“Um, well, yeah. I’m waiting for a truck to come remove some of her furniture. Didn’t want to get in the way. I’m sorry to say this, but with the Alzheimer’s and all her other health problems, she’ll need to live in a nursing home when she leaves the hospital. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course, of course.” But she really didn’t. She frowned.
“Well, don’t let me keep you. I know a busy lady like yourself has things to do, places to go, people to see.” He smiled his most charming smile, waved goodbye, and started to roll up the window.
“Yes, I need to get this book back to the library. Oh, did you know—.”
“Don’t let me keep you. Goodbye.” He rolled up his window. He wondered if the nosey woman would ever get the hint. Probably not. Busybodies like her never did.
“Oh, right.” She raised her hand in a half wave, put her own window up, frowned again and drove away.
Secrets at Sweetwater Cove Page 18