In Silence Sealed

by J. R. Lindermuth

  “Why are you doing this?” she’d asked as Nan bound her wrists. “I told you, I wasn’t going to tell anybody.”

  “Yeah, right. Thought you might blackmail us like that other bitch.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Wait. Nan! Don’t go. Please. Don’t leave me here.”

  But she had. That had been hours ago. Vickie had screamed and cried. Then screamed some more. No one came. No one heard her. And she thought she might die alone in this horrible smelly shack.

  Time passed slowly. The cold crept in. The wind scraped branches against the building. Mice or other vermin scampered through litter in the corners of the building. The room smelled of mold and dust pervaded with a coppery over-scent she couldn’t quite identify.

  She was alone. She feared she’d die here alone and without ever knowing what had become of Vanessa.

  * * * *

  Nan slipped the padlock out of the hasp. Glancing around furtively before opening the door, she shivered with fear of what might await her inside. With Runyan and his troopers prowling around the property, she hadn’t dared venture out here last night. She’d had no more than a few hours’ sleep, trepidation and anxiety preying on her mind. Clay had been of a mind to play again but, thankfully, Lillian demanded a shoulder to cry on this morning and she’d been able to evade him and make her way through the woods to this cluster of abandoned farm buildings.

  Nan wasn’t even certain the buildings were on Clay’s property. It didn’t matter. Over the months since she’d discovered them, Nan had seen no evidence of anyone else visiting them. Still, she knew it wouldn’t be wise to keep Vickie here long. If the police launched a search…

  She shuddered. Maybe they already have.

  With the fingers of one hand she shoved against the door. The rusty hinges squealed in protest as Nan stepped inside and quickly closed the door behind her.

  It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom, but she felt a sense of elation as she detected movement. The squeak of the door had awakened Vickie who stared at her with a mix of fear and hope.

  Nan crossed the room and knelt by her side. “I was afraid you might have died during the night,” she said.

  “I could have.” Vickie’s words were croaked as she spat them from between cracked and swollen lips. “Why are you doing this?”

  “It’s your own fault.” Nan uncapped a bottle of water. “Here.” She raised Vickie’s chin with one hand and put the mouth of the bottle to the girl’s parched lips. “Not so fast, damn it. Sip it slow or you’ll make yourself sick.” She limited the amount Vickie could swallow, pulling the bottle away despite the girl’s gasp of protest. “I’ll give you more in a minute. Just be patient.”

  Nan recapped the bottle, set it aside and checked the cords binding Vickie’s wrists. The flesh was swollen, red and chafed. “I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do with you,” she muttered.

  “Let me go, Nan. Please! I won’t tell anybody.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Honest. I mean it.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “Whatever you did, it’s not my business. I just want to get out of here and go find my sister. I know she’s out there someplace. Please, Nan. Don’t hurt me. I promise. I won’t tell nobody.”

  Nan gazed at her, torn with doubts and fears of her own. “I wish I could believe that.”

  “You can!”

  “You want some more water?”

  “I just wanna go.” Vickie’s voice choked as she began to weep.

  Nan sighed. “I don’t think I can risk it.”

  * * * *

  Lydia took her time walking down to the corner where she’d agreed to meet Flora. It was still early. Flora was on nights and her job wasn’t one where she could just punch out when the clock said her hours were in.

  Reaching the corner, she wrapped her arms about her and stamped her sneaker-shod feet. They hadn’t had a real frost yet but, damn, it was cold. She wore a green fleece vest over sweats and wondered why she hadn’t had sense enough to wear something heavier. Well, maybe she wouldn’t mind it so much once they got started.

  Running. What the fuck was I thinking? This isn’t me.

  It was her dad’s idea. Thanks, Daddy.

  “You need to get out of your bedroom, hon,” he’d told her. “I know you’re hurtin’, but you gotta get your mind off it. We’re gonna get the guy who killed Jason. We’ve got some new leads. I can’t tell you anything yet. But, meanwhile, you gotta get your head straight. I talked to Flora about it and she suggested you come runnin’ with her. She said exercise is just the ticket you need.”

  Lydia had laughed and patted his tummy. “Yeah, right. Like you’re Mr. Gym.”

  Still, she’d agreed. Flora Vastine had proven to be a good friend. She owed her. And she did need a change from the four walls of her room.

  But, fuck—running? Even the sneaks felt odd on her feet. Flora ran every morning. Before shift if on days and after when on nights like now. How dedicated was that? Lydia was sure if she’d worked all night, a run would be the last thing on her agenda.

  Well, she was here now. She fingered back the sleeve of her sweat and glanced at her watch. Flora must be delayed.

  Somewhere close a car alarm sounded. No other sound, save the chirping of birds in the trees around her, broke the stillness of the early morning. Lydia shuffled her feet and swore at the cold seeping into her bones.

  As Flora recommended, Lydia had brought along her iPod. Music was supposed to help a runner set the rhythm of her pace. Lydia hadn’t played any music since—since Jason’s death. She wasn’t even sure what tunes were on the player as she slipped on the earphones. "Let Her Go." Passenger. Jason had downloaded it. Lydia switched it off as tears filled her eyes.

  She remembered the day. They’d been fooling around out at the farm. They—and then it struck her. Lydia knew who had seen her gun and knew where she kept it.

  Fuck.

  She turned and trotted back toward her house. She needed her car. She could explain to Flora later. She didn’t understand why. But she knew who’d murdered Jason.

  * * * *

  Odd. Flora rang the bell again. Lydia had texted a half hour ago saying she’d be at the pre-arranged spot. When Flora pulled up and Lydia hadn’t been there she thought maybe she’d misunderstood. But Lydia didn’t seem to be at the house either. Had she changed her mind? Was she laying upstairs in her bed refusing to respond? Flora didn’t think so. If Lydia had changed her mind she wasn’t the type to be hesitant about saying so. Flora sent another text. No response.

  Where is she?

  Given Lydia’s state of mind, worry gnawed at Flora’s mind. Normally, she wouldn’t consider Lydia a woman who’d consider hurting herself. But Lydia had never been in this kind of situation before. How damaging might it be to not only lose a person you loved but also to be accused of killing him?

  Flora hurried back to her car. Before starting the engine, she sent a text to Harry, asking his advice. Then she called Chief Brubaker.

  “You didn’t have to come in,” Brubaker said moments later as she bustled into his office.

  “I wanted to. I’m worried, Chief. She’s not responding to calls or texts on her phone.”

  Brubaker rose, came around his desk, and gave her a hug. “I’m grateful for your concern, Flora. But you’ve already put in a long shift. Go home and get some rest. We’ve got things under control. I’ll call you soon as I know anything.”

  Flora hugged him back, then stepped away. “Seriously, sir—if you need me…”

  Brubaker gave a half-hearted grin. “I don’t know what else you could do at the moment. I called my wife, the Yoxheimers and a couple of her other friends. No one has seen or heard from her this morning. Fred, Ryan, and some of the auxiliary crew are out on the street. Harry is tryin’ to track her phone. I’m not sure how that works, but he says it’s somethin’ like GPS.”

  Flora nodded. She didn’t fully understand the process either,
though she knew there was a way to trace the location of a phone. “I could get out on the street, too,” she added. “The more eyes we have looking…”

  “No.” He gave her a more appreciative grin this time. “You just do like I said—go home and get some rest. Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”

  Reluctantly, Flora turned away. There was no use arguing. Still, she wasn’t going home just yet. Maybe she hadn’t taken it as seriously as she should have when Vickie Walker went missing. Now two women were missing. Surely, someone had to know something. Flora was determined to find that person.

  Chapter 26

  Lydia was half way to the farm before she realized she didn’t have her phone. Though seldom out of her reach, she hadn’t contemplated needing it while running with Flora and had left it on the dresser in her bedroom. For a moment she thought about going home for it. Anger at herself and even more so at Calder, the person who’d set her up, goaded her on.

  She wasn’t afraid. Her “borrowed” weapon had been found. It never occurred to her that her adversary might have another.

  Lydia had no idea why Nan Calder would have wanted to harm Jason. The two of them had always behaved like brother and sister around her, cordial and joking with one another, talking and acting casual as people familiar with one another do. Before they’d become involved, Lydia had been a little jealous of Nan, suspecting there might have been something between Jason and Nan. Jason denied it, claiming they were only friends, a closeness built on the time Nan had worked for the family. “She’s not my type,” he’d insisted.

  Lydia hadn’t been altogether convinced, but let herself be dissuaded. That’s how eager she’d been to believe Jason’s only interest was in her.

  Tears filled her eyes and she angrily wiped them away with the back of one hand.

  She entered the lane into the farm. Sunlight breaking through the bare limbs of the trees flashed off the windshield, half blinding her. Lydia took her foot off the accelerator and pulled down the visor. She drove at a slower rate of speed up the lane. Gravel popped beneath the tires. A limb scraped along the side of her car. Normally she would have been annoyed at the thought of a scratch to her paint job. Today it didn’t even occur to her to think about it. Her mind was on Nan and the nagging question of why she’d killed Jason.

  She thought back to that other afternoon on the farm. She’d been happy. Walking around the property, talking, and fooling around. Jason had taken her iPod and transferred some music from his. It hadn’t mattered their tastes in music weren’t exactly in sync. The important thing was he wanted to share something he liked with her. It made her feel warm and special. Nan came out of the stable as they came near.

  “Hey, lovebirds,” she called with a friendly wave.

  They’d paused, exchanged greetings and, once more, Lydia felt a twinge of jealousy as the two of them exchanged a glance. There’d been something in that look, she’d felt, though she couldn’t determine what she thought it might have been.

  “You ready to give me a ride in?” Nan asked then.

  “Oh, I forgot,” Jason muttered. “Why don’t I just give you my keys?’

  “And how am I supposed to drive two vehicles, dummy?”

  “Can’t Mother or him drive you?” Jason moaned.

  Nan hissed like an angry cat. “Your mother is painting. And you know Clay is working. You did promise, if you remember.”

  “Yeah. But I didn’t know Lydia was coming out then.”

  “What’s going on?” Lydia had asked.

  “Lillian’s car is in for a tune up,” Nan explained. “This guy,” she added, jerking a thumb in his direction, “promised to give me a ride in to pick it up.”

  “Oh,” Lydia said, happy to oblige. “I can give you a ride. I have to go back to town.”

  Jason shot her a disappointed look. “I thought we were gonna spend the day together.”

  “I’ll come back later,” she promised. “I have a showing.” She gave him a grin. “Some of us do have to work for a living, you know. It shouldn’t take long. Since I have to go in anyway, I can give Nan a ride.”

  “That’d be great. Give us a chance for some girl talk. It’s at Grumbine’s. I guess you know the place?”

  “Sure. Get all my service there, too. Phil does good work.”

  “You promise we’ll get together again later?” Jason said with a little boy pout.

  “Word of honor. We can meet up later—maybe out at Vinnie’s?”

  It was as they bounced out of a pothole in the lane onto the country road Lydia’s glove box popped open and Nan gave a little gasp. “Oh, geez,” she said. “is that what I think it is? A gun?”

  Lydia gave her a peripheral glance, embarrassed. “Yeah. My old man’s idea. He wants me to carry it around with me all the time—you know, when I’m working. But it scares me. I keep it in there and try to forget I have it.”

  Nan leaned forward, hands braced on her thighs, peering into the box, studying the lethal thing within. “You think I could—I mean, do you mind if I take it out for a closer look?”

  “You like guns?”

  “No. I mean, hell, no. I don’t think so. Just curious. I’ve never touched one in my life.”

  “Believe me, you’re probably better off. I hate the things.”

  Nan peered at her, intense, a grin twitching at her lips. “Do you mind? You think I could?”

  “Be my guest. Just be careful.”

  Nan reached in, drew out the holster, holding it in both hands, practically drooling over it. “Wow. I didn’t think it would be this heavy.” She undid the clasp and slipped the weapon out of the holster. Holding it in both hands, she aimed it out the window.

  “Careful. it’s loaded.”

  “How does it work? Could you, maybe, stop for a minute and show me? That would be so cool. Is there a lot of noise when you shoot?”

  And, like a fool, Lydia thought, I did as she asked, pulling off in the woods to give Nan Calder a quick lesson in how to murder my boyfriend and put the blame on me.

  * * * *

  Flora woke from a fitful sleep. Her dog, Change, who had been snoozing by her side, shook herself and leaped off the bed. Flora rolled over and patted the dog’s head. Then she rose and shuffled into the bathroom, intent on a shower.

  It was still only 2:30 in the afternoon when she’d finished, gone downstairs, let the dog out and made herself a cup of tea. Seated at the kitchen table, sipping her tea and munching a piece of toast slathered with peanut butter and honey, she contemplated calling Harry to see if there’d been any progress in the search for Lydia and Vickie. “Maybe I’ll just get dressed and go in,” she mused aloud.

  Before coming home that morning she’d made a few stops to talk to people she hoped might have seen Lydia or had some clue as to where she’d gone. It had proven fruitless. Her father had urged her to get some rest and leave the search up to the others for the time being.

  Sound sleep had evaded her and, though tiredness still sapped her energy, Flora had no inclination to go back to bed. She was too antsy for sleep.

  Her father had left a note saying he planned to treat her niece Meredith to a trip to the mall and a movie. More than likely when they returned Flora’s sister-in-law would insist he stay and have supper with them. There was no reason for Flora to stay home eating herself up with questions about what was going on. Finishing her toast, she put the plate and empty cup in the sink and went to get dressed.

  * * * *

  “Her phone was at the house,” Harry said. “Aaron found it in her bedroom after I got a ping on the location.”

  “So we still have no idea where she went?” Flora asked.

  Harry was manning the station by himself. He ran a hand through his dark hair and shook his head. “No. The boys are out canvassing, but so far we haven’t turned up anyone who’s seen her today.”

  “What about Vickie?”

  Another sad shake of the head. “No news on that front either.”

&nb
sp; Flora stepped up close and laid her hands on his chest. “What can I do?”

  Harry folded her in his arms and gave her a hug. “Babe, you were supposed to be getting some rest. You shouldn’t even be here yet.”

  “I couldn’t sleep. I tried. What about the chief? Where’s he?”

  “Sent him home—much against his protest. I insisted Helen needed him and I could handle things here.”

  The main door opened then and Sticks Hetrick walked in. “Any news?” he called coming over to them.

  “Not since I last talked to you,” Harry told him.

  “Has anyone been out to the farm?”

  Harry nodded. “We’ve made our presence known. Runyan and the chief were out. Stoneroad claims he hasn’t seen Lydia since the night Jason was killed. Jim Finkbine has some of his boys making periodic checks around the property. So far, no sign of her anywhere.”

  Hetrick scowled. “Seems the most likely place she might have gone on her own. What about Stoneroad’s wife and the secretary? What did they have to say?”

  “Stoneroad claims his wife is suffering from depression and hasn’t been out of their bedroom for days. Nan Calder wasn’t there, and he couldn’t say where she’d gone.”

  “Where’s Aaron now?”

  “Home.”

  “Good.,” Hetrick said. “Helen needs him. Well, I’m here to help. What do you want me to do?”

  * * * *

  Lydia forced her eyes open. For a moment she saw double and blinked. Her vision came back to normal, though her head throbbed, and it seemed a great weight prevented her from rising from the floor where she lay. Though it wasn’t entirely dark, shadows closed in around her. She sensed movement nearby and heard the sound of someone breathing. Dust and the scent of old straw and litter forced a sneeze.