Downfall

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by V. B. Tenery


  Davis had set the Davenport case aside because of Lucy’s abduction, but his antenna went up. “How did you find out?”

  “I love my husband, Detective, but I’ve suspected for some time he was having an affair with Bree. When he told me he planned a trip with Jim, I hired a private detective to follow him. I received the PI’s written report yesterday, complete with pictures.”

  “I’d like to have a copy of that report, if I may.”

  “Certainly. I’ll drop off a copy later today after I pick up my girls at school.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Locke. I appreciate your contacting me. I know it wasn’t easy for you. This information just may help us catch a killer.”

  “As I said earlier, I’m not saying Jim Bauer is guilty of anything. But he isn’t a very nice man. And he can’t use Earl as an alibi.”

  “Whatever you decide about your husband, I hope it works out the way you want it to.”

  “I intend to try to salvage my marriage, provided it can be mended. My girls need their father. If that’s not possible, he’s going to pay through the nose. And, if we can put our marriage back together, the next secretary he hires will be fifty, fat, and wear support hose.”

  Davis disconnected and pushed back his chair. With the lead on the murder weapon, and Bauer’s failed alibi, the case was finally coming together. He’d wait for Mrs. Locke to drop off the file, then a visit with her husband and his secretary was in order. Sitting in the office wasn’t going to find Lucy anyway.

  CHAPTER 16

  County Road

  Near Big Bend National Park, Texas

  In the evening twilight, Abby limped towards Lucy from a low depression hidden by barrel cactus and creosote bushes. Thin arms still held a death grip on the handbag hanging from her shoulder. Glad to see the frail woman wasn’t seriously injured, Lucy met her halfway. “You okay?”

  Abby glowered at her. “No, but I can walk. Barely.”

  “We need to get away from here quickly. As soon as they discover we’re not in that car, they’ll come back.” Lucy pulled up a small bush and began sweeping the ground where they had landed.

  Hands planted on her hips, Abby asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to erase our tracks. It always worked in old John Wayne westerns. Let’s hope it will keep Hank off our trail.” Lucy didn’t have time to search for the gun. Hank could be back any minute. She hitched up her stylish leopard-print slacks and tramped north, parallel to what she hoped was the highway, with Abby behind her.

  “My daddy use to watch old John Wayne movies all the time,” Abby said.

  Lucy smiled. “I think everyone’s daddy liked the Duke. He stood tall in more ways than one. You have anything besides drugs in that purse? Like water perhaps?”

  With an impish grin, Abby pulled out a bottle of water.

  “Good girl.” It wasn’t much, but it was way better than nothing.

  Lucy hurried the woman across the scrub-brush wasteland with hidden slumps and prickly pears, ready to twist an ankle or fill pant legs with sharp needles. A lonely coyote’s yip echoed in the distance.

  “Where are we going,” Abby asked.

  “Good question. Our best bet is to try to get back to the highway, keep out of sight, and follow it. Eventually, we should reach civilization and help.” Staying near the road was risky, but it was their only course of action. Without water, food, or a compass, they could wander around the desert forever.

  Her biggest problem now was finding the highway. She hadn’t paid attention while being chased by a carload of drugged-out crazies. Following the tire tracks back the way they came would have been easy, if they could have done it without being seen. But Hank would be expecting them to go that route. The surrounding desert was flat for miles in all directions. She’d have to depend on her instincts and the darkness to prevent Hank finding them.

  On landscape that resembled a moon walk, the temperature grew colder after the sun set. Despite the chill and lack of sufficient clothing, Lucy appreciated the quarter moon that dimly lit the bleak terrain, and trudged onward, the heels of her boots sinking into the sand from time to time, making her legs feel like weights were attached to her ankles. Lucy considered herself to be in good physical shape, so this must be torture for Abby. It only took one glance to see the woman wasn’t in good health. If she didn’t get off drugs soon, she likely would never see her fortieth birthday.

  Abby had been pensive for the last hour. Putting one foot in front of the other looked to be a struggle for her during the peaks and valleys as the meth wore off. Finally, she asked, “Lucy, do you really think we’re going to get out of this alive?”

  “I always try to think positively. Negativity breeds failure.”

  “If we don’t...do you believe there really is a Heaven and a Hell? I’ve thought about that a lot over the past couple of months.”

  Lucy put a few paces between them and studied Abby’s face in the bleak light. “I absolutely do. I admit to having had doubts, especially while I was married to Hank. I blamed God for my circumstances. That’s probably normal for abused women. But the fact is my decision to marry Hank created my problems. Many women spend more time picking out their wedding dress than getting to know the man they’re engaged to. There were signs of Hank’s controlling nature that I chose to ignore.”

  Dim shadows hid Abby’s gray pallor and facial imperfections. She looked like a skinny kid playing dress-up in her momma’s clothes. “I used to go to Sunday school with my grandma. She was a sweet lady. After she passed away, I never went back to church.”

  “When we get out of here, you can start going to church again. It’ll help you stay off the drugs.”

  They continued their trek across the parched earth, stopping only for short periods. Lucy reached for the water bottle and took one sip. They pushed on for another hour on the sunbaked dirt, dodging cholla and avoiding holes pressed into the sand by animals or the climate.

  “Can we rest for a while?” Abby asked. “I’m tired.”

  “Yeah, let’s take ten,” Lucy said. Thirst was beginning to make her tongue feel like leather. Her stomach growled a reminder that she hadn’t eaten all day.

  They each took another sip of water. Even taking it slow, the bottle was only a quarter full.

  Abby eased down next to her on the sand, and downed another capsule.

  Lucy had spotted flashes of light ahead. It had to be car headlights. They were headed in the right direction. Hopefully, the flashing lights weren’t Hank’s men searching for them.

  “You think there are snakes out here, Lucy? The men found a couple of rattlers in the compound.” She shivered. “I hate snakes.”

  Lucy wanted to roll her eyes, but couldn’t do so without Abby seeing. Didn’t they have enough to worry about without bringing up her phobias? “There probably are snakes, but I don’t think they travel at night.” Lucy had no idea if what she just said was true. Her knowledge of reptiles was limited to ‘some bites could kill you’. But maybe her words would relieve the woman’s fears.

  Abby wrapped her arms around her body and trembled. “You cold?”

  Goose bumps pricked on Lucy’s arms, and she rubbed them to restore circulation. “I wasn’t until we stopped moving. Guess that’s an incentive to keep going. You ready to give it another go?”

  Abby nodded, and a scowl wrinkled her brow. She clutched her purse close to her chest, maybe for warmth, or protecting her drug stash. “Do I have a choice? It’s either walk and drop dead in my tracks, or stop and freeze to death.”

  Lucy chuckled. “Anybody ever tell you you’re a pessimist?”

  “That’s the story of my life. Never had anything to be optimistic about.”

  Their progress seemed slower than Lucy had expected, and she sighed a relieved breath when she saw a rise just ahead. A gully lay about fifty yards in front of them. If Lucy’s calculations were correct, the road should not be far from the top of the rise. She figured they could use it for a
lookout and, if no bad guys were in sight, they could move closer and catch a ride, preferably with someone who had a cell phone, although good luck with getting service this far from civilization.

  Weary from their long trek, she gave Abby a hand up the steep incline as they trudged to the top.

  Something moved in Lucy’s peripheral vision just seconds before two sets of bright headlights almost blinded them. A profile took form and pushed night-vision goggles to the top of his head. The unmistakable outline of Hank Turner. “I thought you might head this way.”

  Abby screamed and dropped to her knees, sobbing.

  Hank cursed and stepped in front of Abby, lifted her upright, and backhanded her with a blow Lucy feared might break Abby’s jaw. She was in no shape to defend herself. When she fell, he drew his foot back to kick her in the stomach.

  Lucy dived at his knees, knocking him sideways and off his feet. “Stop; you’ll kill her!”

  He stood and again lifted Abby from the dirt then shoved her into her brother’s arms. “Take her home. I don’t have time to deal with this now. She’ll get what she deserves when I get back.”

  Lucy looked daggers at Hank, with hate so palpable she could taste it. “God has prepared the hottest places in Hell for people like you.”

  “I’m not worried. I don’t believe in Hell.”

  “You will when you get there. And I hope it’s soon.”

  He looked as if he might hit her, but changed his mind for some reason. “I’m going to finish what I started and get my boys. And you’re coming with me.” He jerked the car door open, pushed her behind the wheel, then walked around the vehicle and slid into the passenger seat. He jammed the keys in the ignition. “You’re driving.”

  The car’s warmth wrapped around her and, despite her dire situation, she was grateful. She prayed Abby was warm, and that her injuries weren’t life threatening.

  “What made you come back?” she asked.

  “Something told me I couldn’t leave you two alone together. You’re too smart, and she’s too dumb not to follow you.”

  Lone Star Bails and Process Servers

  Twin Falls, Texas

  Davis had filled Matt in on the phone call from Mrs. Locke. “You ready to roll?” Matt asked when Davis stepped into the office. Since Lucy was gone, Matt decided to accompany Davis on his visit to re-interview Earl Locke.

  “Are we taking your wheels or mine?” Davis asked.

  “Mine is closer,” Matt said, opening the back door to his office.

  The bail bond reception area was empty when they entered the office. A buzzer sounded, and a male voice called from the back. “Be with you in a second!”

  An attractive, but worn-looking, man with blood shot eyes and deep creases around his mouth strode towards them down the hallway. He stopped when he saw Davis. “I think I know what you want. Come on back.”

  Davis introduced Matt, and Locke waved them into his office.

  Locke called out, “Dad, cover the front for me for a minute.”

  “Sure thing,” said an older guy, who stepped from a second office and headed to the reception desk.

  Locke waved them to seats and sat behind his desk. “How much do you know?”

  “We have a copy of the report from the detective your wife hired. But it doesn’t tell us what happened between you and Bauer that weekend,” Davis said.

  “Nothing happened between us. We arrived together, but I didn’t see Jim again until just before we left on Monday.”

  Matt struggled to keep disgust from his tone. “So you have no idea if Bauer left the casino?”

  Locke shook his head and looked away.

  “How about your secretary; can we speak to her?” Davis asked.

  “She doesn’t work here anymore. I can give you her number, if you like. But she won’t tell you anything different. She was with me the whole time.”

  “Do you have any idea how Bauer might have left the casino without using his car?” Davis asked.

  “Not really,” Locke answered. “Bree and I were gambling for a while, and I saw him with a woman there, but I doubt he would have asked her to take him anywhere.”

  “Do you know the woman’s name?” Davis asked.

  Locke shook his head. “I assumed she was just someone he picked up. He does that a lot.”

  At the end of the interview, Matt stood and waited for Davis to exit, then he turned back to Locke. “Just a word of advice, Mr. Locke. Concealing evidence in a murder investigation is a serious offense. You might remember that next time someone asks you to give them an alibi.”

  Highway I-20

  Headed for Twin Falls, Texas

  The winter sun rose above the tops of tall pines, sending a kaleidoscope of light flashing between the narrow tree limbs inside the Mercedes. Lucy had driven straight through to the south side of Dallas, with Hank holding the gun on her all the way. She rolled her neck to loosen her tense muscles, and blinked to moisten her dry eyes.

  He had her pull into a McDonald’s drive-thru and order breakfast sandwiches to go, threatening to shoot the clerk if Lucy tried to signal for help.

  She wouldn’t have tried anyway. Part of her police training was to protect the lives of civilians, and it was rooted in her psyche.

  Not that she was afraid to die. She just wanted to ensure Hank didn’t get away to harm her sons or Abby. She took a long gulp of the strong black coffee, welcoming the warmth as it slid down her throat. She had to grit her teeth and take his orders. Wait for the right moment. A time with just her and him. No one else around to get hurt.

  Throughout the long drive, Hank tried his old sob story. He loved her, he’d never intended to hurt her or the boys, if she’d give him another chance he’d make it up to her, etcetera...etcetera...etcetera.

  The same refrain abusers had been singing since the beginning of time.

  She didn’t reply. There was nothing to say. She’d go back to Hank when ISIS terrorists converted to Christianity.

  Her life had gone disastrously off course over the past forty-eight hours. Leaving Hank had been the first step in the right direction of putting her life together. But now, five years after the fact, she was again in a battle to the death with her ex-husband.

  She’d always known Hank wouldn’t just go away—knew it was only a matter of time before he would come after her. It wasn’t in his DNA to let go of anything he thought he owned. And he didn’t like to lose.

  Although her finances had been rocky, it had been an immense improvement over her wreck of a marriage. She and her boys had almost recovered from the physical and emotional abuse of their father. Now this.

  Over the past year, she’d come to know Ben Stein, her second chance at a normal life. Ben was the man she should have married. He was everything Hank wasn’t. And she’d come to realize, over the long drive back to Twin Falls, that she might never see him again.

  Lucy Turner’s Home

  Twin Falls, Texas

  Ben Stein took the graveyard watch inside Lucy’s home. Experience had taught him that, if Hank came for Charlie and Mack, it would be late at night or in the early morning hours.

  He spent the night pacing, worrying about Lucy, praying she was still alive. Lucy was the soul mate he’d searched for all his life. A confirmed bachelor, Ben told himself when he met the right woman, he would marry, and not until. He wanted a lifetime relationship. Then Lucy Turner walked into his life.

  She’d had a hard shell when they first met, but he’d soon learned it was like a turtle’s covering, to protect her from being hurt. And he was scared to death he would lose her.

  Two unmarked cars were his backup. One sat in the driveway of the house across the street, in case they had to give chase. Another was parked on the street behind Lucy’s house.

  The hands on the bronze sunburst clock over the mantle inched toward seven o’clock. Charlie and Mack would normally be getting ready for school. Ben had grown fond of Lucy’s boys. Their abusive dad would take them
only over Ben’s dead body.

  A petite female police officer, about Charlie’s size, dressed in jeans, sweat shirt, and a baseball cap, made a few passes in front of the living room picture window. Ben had talked her into pretending to be Lucy’s oldest son. The officer knew the danger, but decided to take the gig anyway.

  An extended yawn made him stride towards the kitchen. “You want a caffeine fix?”

  She rubbed her eyes and echoed his yawn. “Sugar, no cream.”

  He went into the spotless kitchen and put on his second pot of the day. When the red light blinked on, he poured two cups, doctored hers, and took them into the living room. Before he could take his first sip, his phone vibrated. “Yeah?”

  “Heads up, Stein,” the officer across the street said. “A black Mercedes circled the block twice. Heavily-tinted windows, but it looks like a man and a woman. You guys set?”

  “We’re set. Do you think he saw the decoy?”

  “He couldn’t miss her.”

  “Let me know if he parks.”

  “Roger.”

  Stein drew his gun. “We’ve got company. He’s seen you, so stay away from the window.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” She threw the hat in the corner and tugged her weapon from her back holster.

  The phone vibrated again. The officer didn’t wait for an answer. “The car’s pulling to the curb in front.”

  *****

  Lucy spotted the two unmarked cars the first time she circled the block, and prayed Hank hadn’t noticed. She eased out a slow breath. Although it looked like Charlie in the window, it had to be an imposter; probably a police woman. The authorities would never place her son in danger.

  Hank had been snorting cocaine for the last hour, so his mind was fuzzy. His gaze darted from side to side, his breath coming in quick gasps. Nervous. Good, that gave her an edge.

  “Circle one more time, and then park in front of the house. Once we’ve stopped, slide across the seat and get out on the passenger side behind me. Walk to the front door, and I’ll take over from there.”

 

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