In Silence Sealed

by J. R. Lindermuth

  “Still alive, huh?”

  Lydia rolled over in response to the familiar voice. Nan Calder hovered over her, bent at the waist and hands on her knees. She smiled. “What the hell am I gonna do with you now?”

  Lydia remembered having seen Nan enter the stable as she drove into the lot. She’d parked and followed. Then, as she’d entered, everything had gone black. “What did you do to me?”

  Nan kicked something that rolled across the floor and came to rest before Lydia. A cudgel, a sawn-off length of broom handle. Nan grinned. “I saw you pull in, knew you’d seen me. I waited behind the door and cracked you a good one with that. Thought for a minute I’d killed you.”

  Lydia struggled to sit up. Her hands were bound behind her, and the effort left her woozy, but she managed to get up on her haunches. “Why did you kill Jason?”

  Nan hissed between her teeth. “I warned him. He wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t let him spoil everything.”

  “There was something between you. You were jealous—”

  “No. He meant nothing to me. It had nothing to do with the two of you. It was him was jealous. And greedy. But I don’t have time for this conversation now. Got to move you and your car before those cops come back again.”

  “Did you kill Vickie?”

  Nan gave a little laugh. “Not yet. Here, let me help you up. Then we’ll go see her. Stupid little fool. She couldn’t mind her own business either.”

  * * * *

  “What have you done?” Clay demanded.

  Nan stepped up close and threw her arms around him. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”

  He seized her roughly by the shoulders and thrust her out at arm’s length so he could look her in the face. “The cops were here again,” he snapped. “They wanted to know where you’d gone.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “Nothing. I had no idea where you were. What’ve you been up to, Nan?”

  She pulled away from him then and flopped down in an armchair. She gazed up at him with an intensity that gave him a chill. Stoneroad thought he loved this woman but there were times like this when he believed he didn’t know her. “Please, Nan,” he begged with a throaty catch in his voice, “Just tell me what’s going on. What have you been up to?”

  “Protecting you. Protecting us. Just as I always have.”

  “Have you hurt Lydia?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “She’s missing.”

  “So? What does that have to do with me?”

  Stoneroad paused. He wanted to believe her. There was no change in her expression. She sat there, gazing up at him, calmly, innocently. Still…

  Nan spread her legs now and beckoned to him. “Come here, love.”

  As though in a trance, Stoneroad knelt between her legs and gave her his hands. “Do you love me?” she whispered.

  “You know I do.”

  “Then trust me. You know I’ll never let anyone hurt you or Lillian or separate us.” She squeezed his hands and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Just take care of Lillian and leave the rest to me.”

  “When that other girl, Vickie, went missing—and now Lydia…”

  She squeezed his hands again. “Just trust me, darling.”

  Chapter 27

  Stoneroad flung the door open wider and stepped aside. “Go ahead. Search all you like. But I’ll tell you now—you’re not going to find either of them here.”

  Runyan’s team entered the house, fanning off in different directions to begin the task. Others were initiating a search of the other farm buildings. Runyan held out a copy of the warrant to the writer. Stoneroad refused to accept it, turning his back on Runyan and following one of the troopers who’d headed back down the hall toward his office. “Don’t touch any papers in there,” he shouted.

  Theophilus Fisher had issued the warrant and Hetrick had insisted on coming along when it was served. Much to Runyan’s consternation, he’d also demanded one of Brubaker’s people should accompany them. Harry Minnich had assigned Flora Vastine. Runyan glanced at her now as she passed him en route to the living room. He scowled. He’d heard good things about the girl. But he also knew she was friends with Lydia Brubaker and that raised his ire. She’s too close to the investigation. I didn’t want any of them here looking over my shoulder. Why did he have to send her? I should have put my foot down and demanded he send someone else.

  Snapping off his cover, Runyan ran a hand through his hair. Laying the paperwork on a table by the door he followed Hetrick and Vastine into the living room.

  Lillian Stoneroad, clad in the same blue robe and flannel PJs as the last time he’d seen her, raised up from where she’d been sprawled on the sofa and glared at them. “Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you out looking for my son’s killer?” she said in a voice choked with emotion. The paleness of her face emphasized the dark circles under her eyes.

  “All part of the job, ma’am.”

  “Some fucking job,” Nan Calder snapped.

  Runyan swiveled to where she stood by a window. The curtain was drawn back, and the light illuminated a nimbus around her. Lovely as one of those paintings of saints, he thought, but much earthier. He felt himself blush and hoped no one noticed.

  Calder stepped away from the window and seated herself on the arm of the sofa. She gazed down at Lillian, then turned her attention back to him. “You could have a little compassion for Mrs. Stoneroad.”

  “I—we do. We have a job to do. Two women are missing.”

  Her honey-gold hair was swept back, exposing one small ear. She wore a lavender shawl-collar pullover and jeans. She crossed her sneaker-shod feet at the ankles and tugged at that enticing ear.

  Nan Calder studied him and Runyan peered back at her. He shuffled his feet and averted his gaze, fearing another blush.

  Calder chuckled. “Do you want to look under the sofa, sergeant?”

  Vastine, determining there was no place to hide a person in the room, had gone off to search elsewhere.

  “This is no laughing matter, miss,” Hetrick said. “When was the last time you saw Lydia Brubaker or Vickie Walker?”

  Nan whirled in his direction. “I haven’t seen Lydia for days. I already told him,” and she jerked her chin in Runyan’s direction, “Lillian and Clay have enough to deal with. They don’t need an army trooping through the house and tearing everything up.”

  “We’ll try not to leave too much of a mess,” Runyan said. “But we got to do this.”

  Hetrick started out to the hall and beckoned for him to follow. With a final glance at Nan Calder, Runyan trailed after him.

  * * * *

  Flora inspected what appeared to be the master bedroom. Hetrick stood inside, watching her. She turned now and gave him a discouraged look. “I told you they aren’t here,” Stoneroad said from behind him. The writer leaned in the doorway and anger was as apparent on his face as the disappointment on Flora’s. It was a big house; the search was thorough. But it didn’t take long to complete the job and the results were nil.

  Hetrick peered at Stoneroad. The man was annoyed by their presence, but he showed no apparent sign of worry or nervousness. The murder of Diana Wozniak had been an impulsive act. It didn’t fit the character of the writer who was a careful, intellectual man who planned his actions. The murder seemed too sloppy a move for him. And Hetrick could see no apparent reason for him to harm Lydia or Vickie.

  Stoneroad’s wife might blame Lydia for her son’s death. But she seemed in no physical or mental state to carry out an act against the girl.

  Hetrick was certain someone had abducted Lydia and Vickie. If not these two, there was only one other person in this household to consider—Nan Calder. The woman was certainly protective of her employer, might even be enamored of him. But was there sufficient reason to think her capable of such acts? There was something, something more they hadn’t considered. What?

  * * * *

  Runyan sensed a presence behind
him and spun around. Nan Calder grinned at him from the doorway. “You didn’t expect to find them in my panties drawer, did you, sergeant?”

  The officer flushed. He hadn’t noticed but should have realized, he was in her bedroom. A full-size wood-framed bed stood against one wall, flanked on the left by a nightstand on which an antique-style alarm clock ticked away the seconds and on the right by a dresser on which there stood a small white-shaded lamp. Runyan stood by this dresser and, though he hadn’t opened any drawers, he couldn’t help casting a guilty glance at them. “Would you mind opening the closet?” he said for want of anything better to say.

  Nan crossed, sneakers whispering on the threads of a braided rug, and folded herself into a wicker chair by the window. “Do it yourself,” she told him.

  Gaze fixed on the stacked pillows and duvet of her bed, which matched the pale blue of the walls, he went around her and started for the door. “You’re not gonna look in the closet?” she called after him.

  “I doubt if you’ve hidden them in there.”

  “No. I haven’t. But I thought you might want to run your fingers through some of my other dainties.”

  He whirled to face her. “Miss, I--”

  She raised a hand, gave him another seductive grin. “Don’t go getting uptight on me, Runyan. You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me? Guess what? You turn me on, too. Maybe another time and place…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze swept over him.

  “Maybe,” he muttered, hurrying out the door. He felt the heat rising and the last thing he wanted was for her to see the affect she had on him.

  * * * *

  Like other members of his auxiliary unit, Jim Finkbine had spent the afternoon driving around the area in hope of spotting some clue to tell what had happened to Lydia and the other missing woman. Though his search focused on both, he couldn’t help his attention being fixated on Lydia Brubaker.

  It wasn’t something he’d admitted to anyone else, but Finkbine had had a crush on Lydia Brubaker for a long time. She’d never known it but his attraction to Lydia dated back to their high school days. He’d been a senior when Lydia was a sophomore. Still, even then, he’d known it was the pretty cheerleader drew him to football games he might have ignored otherwise. He’d admired her from afar since then, always convinced she was too far above him to share the interest and too shy to make an effort to find out what she thought of him.

  Jimmy’s rebellious nature in those days had led him into some scrapes that wouldn’t have put him in the good graces of her family even had he been lucky enough to have attracted Lydia’s attention.

  Lydia’s fickle attitude toward those she did date more recently annoyed him yet gave him optimism someday he might work up the courage to ask her out. Then, suddenly, she was going with this Jason guy Finkbine saw as beneath her. In conversation Aaron had confided it appeared serious and he might soon have a son-in-law. Jimmy had been devastated. What did she see in this loser? Okay, he had to admit the man was handsome—but not any more so than some of the others Lydia dated in the past. The guy didn’t even have a job, for crissake. And he sure didn’t treat her the way she deserved. Why if I’d have been dating her I’d…

  Finky blew breath. But you weren’t the one lucky enough to be dating her. Never even had the guts to ask her out. He blew breath again, diverting his attention from the past by peering into the woods on both sides as he drove down a rutted country road he figured to be just east of the Stoneroad property.

  Harry had phoned minutes earlier to inform him Runyan and the Staties had a warrant and were searching Stoneroad’s home and outbuildings. They wouldn’t find the women there. The guy is too smart not to realize that'd be the first place police would look. But where the hell else could the guy have stashed them? He's not from around here. Where else could he hide them if not on familiar ground? Movement off to one side attracted his attention. He slid to a halt, peering off through the trees and brush. A squirrel darted across an opening between trees and scampered up the bole of a beech. With his window wound down Jimmy imagined he heard the scrabbling of its tiny claws against the bark as it made its way up to a winter’s nest of crisp brown leaves.

  He put the truck in gear and started off again. Crows gabbled off in the distance, a sound so familiar he was oblivious to it.

  Jimmy hunted in these woods. An abandoned farm lay beyond them. He wondered had anyone looked back there. A narrow, weed-choked lane ahead cut through the woods and led into the property. Jimmy made the turn, low hanging branches scraping against the panels of his vehicle. The truck bounced along. Hope there haint no big rocks. I could damage something.

  Suddenly a flash of color spied through the trees caused him to slam on his brakes. The vehicle skidded to one side, his tires throwing up clods of mud and stones.

  He dug out his phone and speed-dialed a number.

  “H’lo,” Aaron Brubaker said.

  “Aaron. What color’s Lydia’s new car?”

  Chapter 28

  “Stay where you are,” Aaron said. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “You think that’s wise, Chief? I mean, I’m right here and Runyan is close. I could call him--”

  “Don’t even think about it, Jimmy. We’re talkin’ about my daughter. Stay put. I’m on the way.” Brubaker hung up before Jim Finkbine had a chance to respond.

  Finkbine got out of his truck and walked over to where the other vehicle was parked. It had been pulled off the lane, into an opening between trees. Someone had cut brush and made an attempt to conceal the car from view but hadn’t done a very good job of it. The red paint job stood out like neon in the ochre and sienna of the woods.

  A Beetle convertible. Jimmy shook his head. Except for the flashy color, it just wasn’t her. Aaron had explained after her new Eos had been stolen last summer Lydia didn’t want another vehicle that might attract thieves. But a Bug? Jimmy didn’t see it. The car didn’t match her personality.

  Finkbine was tempted to open the door and inspect the interior of the vehicle. But he knew that would be a mistake. He was certain this was Lydia’s car. Inspection would have to await Harry’s technical expertise. He didn’t want to take a chance of messing up fingerprints or any other forensic evidence offering a clue to what had happened to Lydia. This made it even more likely she’d been abducted. He could think of no reason Lydia would want to conceal her car from view.

  He leaned down and peered into the vehicle. All the windows were wound up tight. A small leather purse and an iPod lay on the passenger seat. A Kleenex packet jutted up from the bulging storage pocket on one door. Other than this, nothing was exposed to his view. He walked around the vehicle, taking care not to get too close and obliterate any possible footprints. With the leaf litter and other debris of the forest floor he didn’t expect there would be any prints. Still, techs could see things where others often didn’t.

  Jimmy lifted his baseball cap and scratched at his damp scalp. He glanced at his watch. Aaron should be here soon. He peered through the trees up the lane. There was no sign of them from here, but he knew there were a few buildings a short distance from where he stood. He mulled the thought. It probably wasn’t a good idea. What the hell, he was this close. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick look.

  * * * *

  “Maybe he’s right,” Helen said. “Maybe you should call Runyan.”

  Shrugging into his jacket, Aaron gave his wife an anguished look. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because you know it’s the right thing to do. I’ve heard you say it enough times in the past—people who are too close to a case shouldn’t get involved. Runyan and Dan are already out there looking for Lydia and that other girl. You should call and tell them what Jimmy’s found. They deserve to know.”

  Brubaker clenched his fists in frustration. He knew Helen was right. Still he couldn’t stay here and do nothing. Jimmy said there was no one in the car. Maybe it wasn’t even Lydia’s. But, if it was and she was nearby in need o
f his help…How could he ignore that? Lydia wasn’t the kind to harm herself. Yet, the thought occurred to him, he’d heard other people say similar things about loved ones. Stress—it could change a person.

  “Aaron?”

  He’d managed to get his jacket on. He glanced at Helen, gave her a nod. “I’ll call him. On my way out there.” He turned toward the door.

  “If you’re going, so am I,” Helen told him.

  He wasn’t about to argue with her. “Come on, then.”

  * * * *

  Peeping out from behind a curtain at a front window, Nan watched until she was certain all the police had departed. Listening behind a door, she’d overheard Runyan tell the others there was nothing more they could do here until the dogs he’d requested were available. They were going back to the State Police barracks to wait and discuss plans.

  Nan gnawed her fingernails and paced. Her hand shook, and her body tingled with an agitation she couldn’t quell. Sweat beaded on her forehead even as she wrapped her arms about herself against a chill deep in her bones. Her mouth had the taste of dirty cotton and licking her lips failed to moisten them.

  With those dogs the police would search the barnyard and the woods. Once they picked up Lydia’s scent…

  She had to move Lydia and Vickie again. But, where? She’d only stumbled on the old farm by accident. Nan had no idea where else to take them. She didn’t want to harm them. She hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone. Oh, damn. Jason. This was all his fault.