“Coincidences do happen. That’s why we have a name for them.”
He just said that to be argumentative. “Where does Matthew fit into this picture?”
“He left home to find his sister. Esther Jamison knows him and his family which means he knows them. Maybe he tracked down the doctor, found out he owned my house during the time his sister would have been around, and that’s why he’s checking out the neighborhood.”
I wasn’t sure what that might mean for his relationship with Paula, but it didn’t sound good. “Maybe, maybe, maybe. It’s not like you to be uncertain, Fred.”
“We have no hard evidence. It’s all speculation and conjecture until we get a confession.”
“A confession? Really? Any idea how we go about that?”
“Yes, I have a few ideas.”
I waited for him to share some of those ideas with me. He didn’t.
“Can we have pizza when we get home?” Rickie asked.
Home? A wave of anxiety twisted my gut. He was referring to my house as home. What if Grace never came back to get him? What if Rick stayed in Hawaii? Was I going to be stuck with Rickie forever? I could just see myself taking him to school in the fall, going to PTA meetings, picking him up at the gate when he got out of prison.
A loud crash shattered my reverie and I slammed forward against my seatbelt. “What the h—what was that?”
Immediately Fred hit the gas and the car leapt forward, speeding along the dusty, rutted road. Damn! Fred knew how to get that car out of second gear after all.
“What the hell just happened?” Rickie asked. I’d censored my words, but Rickie felt no need to do so, and I didn’t feel the need to chastise him at that moment.
“Rear end collision.” Fred scowled as he stared intently at the road ahead and continued to accelerate. “Hang on.”
We’d been rear ended?
Fred was driving fast?
I didn’t know which of the two shocked me more.
I looked through the back window and saw an evil, grinning face…headlights and the huge grill of a black truck bearing down on us. “Holy sh…cow!” It was like a scene out of a horror movie. A demonic machine come to life and attacking the good guys. The truck’s windows were heavily tinted, so I couldn’t see anybody inside, just the evil vehicle with its toothy grin, determined to kill us.
Rickie followed my gaze. “Who the devil is that?”
I hadn’t seen any signs of a truck at the Jamison’s place or any way for a truck to get there. Even so, the thought crossed my mind that the driver was Esther’s husband. The truck even looked a little like him minus the beard.
“Rickie, why don’t you lie down on the floor between the seats?” Fred suggested. He had added seatbelts to the front but not the back.
“I don’t want to.”
“Lie down between the seats,” Fred instructed, and Rickie complied without protest or swear word.
The monster truck loomed larger behind us, and I braced for another collision.
Suddenly Fred spun the car onto pavement, making the ninety-degree turn on two wheels. In spite of being in shock and probably terrified if I had time to think about it, I was impressed with that turn.
And then we were flying. Well, almost. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d pulled out a secret thruster and we’d gone airborne. I couldn’t see the speedometer, but I was pretty sure we were doing over a hundred, and that car was handling the speed with no effort. The engine was still purring along, and the suspension held us securely on the road.
I looked over at Fred. I half expected to find he had morphed into Batman or James Bond. He was still Fred. His jaw muscles looked a little tighter, but for all the strain that showed on his face, he could have been driving calmly down the street, going the speed limit as usual.
When this was over, I was going to demand that Fred tell me where he’d learned to drive like that.
And he, of course, would ignore my question and change the subject.
My cell phone rang. Out of a Blue Clear Sky, Trent’s ringtone. I snatched the phone out of my purse and had my finger poised to accept the call, but hesitated. I really needed to talk to Trent, to hear his voice and to tell him how I felt about him in case I didn’t survive the attack of the monster truck. But he’d be very upset if I told him what was going on. Very, very upset, and there was nothing he could do to help. By the time he got there, we’d either be dead or free.
I put the phone back in my purse. If I lived, I’d call him later and maybe I’d try to be a little more forthcoming with my feelings.
The truck was still behind us, but he was no match for whatever Fred had under the hood combined with Fred’s driving skills. I was relieved to notice that we were gaining ground fast. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I was pretty sure we needed to get away from the demon in the black truck…or the demon that was the black truck.
Fred flew around a sharp curve…and kept on curving. He swung onto the shoulder of the road and made a U-turn. We were speeding straight for a head-on collision with the ominous black truck.
My stomach leapt upward into my throat. I could see no good coming of this turn of events. “Uh, Fred, are we going to eject out of the seats at the last minute or something?”
“Relax.”
I clutched the edge of the seat and gulped while my heart moved from double time to triple time. “That’s not going to happen.”
At the last minute the truck swung onto the shoulder of the road, missing us by inches, maybe centimeters. I could feel the hot, sulfurous fumes from its exhaust as we passed. Well, I might have if the windows had been open.
Fred swung onto the opposite shoulder of the road and made another U-turn.
Ahead of us the truck seemed to have a little trouble getting back onto the pavement, but made it just before we caught up to him.
Again the chase was on, but this time we were the chaser instead of the chasee.
“Fred?” The word sounded tiny and alone, nothing like my regular voice, but I was pretty sure I was the one who said it.
“Yes?”
“What are you going to do with him if you catch him?”
“Beat him within an inch of his life and make him tell me why he damaged my car.”
“Maybe you could call him on his cell phone instead.”
“I’m kidding. I only want to get his license number. He doesn’t have a front plate. I won’t do anything dangerous with the kid in the car.”
In all the excitement, I’d forgotten Rickie. I looked in the back. He crouched in the floor between the seats, looking up with no sign of fear. Apparently I was the only one in the car who considered our situation life-threatening.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Just hold on. We’ll be there soon.” I wasn’t sure where there was, but at the speed Fred was driving, we’d be there soon.
I peered through the windshield. “I got his plate number.”
“So do I. We’ll head home now.”
We squealed around another turn and onto the highway with Fred close on the truck’s bumper.
“Are we heading home now?” I asked as we continued to try to crawl up the truck’s rear end.
“This is the way home. As long as we’re going this way, we might as well torment this person who damaged my car.”
“Or we could do that later. Remember, kid in the car.”
Fred smiled. “You’re not worried, are you, Lindsay? You’re the one who’s always trying to make me drive faster.” But he eased off the gas and allowed the monster truck to merge into traffic and disappear ahead of us. “You can sit up now, Rickie.”
I drew in a deep breath. “Somebody was trying to kill us!”
“I doubt he meant to kill us. Probably just trying to scare us. Dr. Dan must have found out about our visit to his old homestead. I saw that truck darting in and out of traffic on our trip over. You lost him, but he
must have figured out where we were going. They shouldn’t have done that. Now I’m angry.”
He didn’t really sound angry, not the way he’d sounded when he’d learned about Rickie’s theft of Sophie’s ring. He still looked the way he always looked. His white hair was immaculate. His black framed glasses sat squarely on his nose. He wasn’t white knuckling the steering wheel or scowling after the bad guys. But I did not doubt for one minute that he was extremely angry, angrier than I’d ever seen him before.
“Are we going home for pizza now?” Rickie asked.
“Yes, we are.” I took out my cell phone to order a pizza and remembered Trent’s call. He’d left a message. I checked my voicemail.
“Call me when you get a chance. I have information about Matthew Graham.”
I wasn’t sure at that point he could tell me anything I didn’t already know about Matthew, but I’d call him as soon as we got home. Home. It used to be a comforting word for a comforting place.
I ordered a pizza to be delivered to my house.
A few minutes later Fred pulled up in his drive. Rickie immediately slid out of the back seat and ran toward my house. I made no move to open my door and get out. “What now?” I asked.
Fred kept his gaze straight ahead, didn’t look at me. “Sophie’s probably home. I want you to get her out of that house. Take her to your house and both of you stay there until I get back. She’s probably going to need to spend the night with you.”
Sounded like the situation was getting critical. “And where are you going?”
“Over to have a chat with Daniel Jamison. It’s time to get that confession.”
I had no intention of being left out of that. “You’re going by yourself?”
He looked at me and grinned. “I think I’ll be all right alone.”
I snatched the keys from his ignition. “No, you won’t. I’m going with you.”
His grin changed to a smirk. “You have a child to take care of.”
“Since Sophie’s going to be at my house anyway, I’m sure she’d be thrilled to babysit.”
We had a staring contest for a couple of minutes. I won, of course. Fred may hold the records in secretiveness, karate kicks and all sorts of other things I don’t even know about, but when it comes to obstinacy, that’s my specialty.
He let out a long sigh. “I’ll call Sophie. You change clothes. Meet me back here as soon as she gets to your house.”
“Okay.” I opened my door and climbed out.
“Uh, keys?”
I removed the house key from his ring and handed it to him. “You won’t need the rest until it’s time for us to leave.” I smiled and headed toward my house.
“Call Trent back,” he shouted after me.
It didn’t take psychic ability for him to know Trent had called me. Fred knew what his ringtone was. But it was interesting that he’d taken note of it during all the activity going on at the time. He doesn’t miss much.
The pizza delivery man pulled up just as I reached my porch where Rickie waited. I unlocked the door and let him inside while I paid for the pizza. Henry was nowhere in sight. He’d probably left his post at the front door as soon as Rickie came up the steps. But he’d be waiting by his food bowl.
By the time I made it inside, Rickie was sitting on the sofa with a Coke and the TV blaring. Sometimes consistency is overrated.
He followed me to the kitchen where I opened the pizza box and put two slices on a plate then handed it to him.
Henry crouched under the table, looking grumpy. I poured some dry food into his bowl and took a slice of pizza for myself, then turned and grabbed the back of Rickie’s shirt with my other hand as he headed toward the living room.
“Eat in here, please.” I figured I had a fifty-fifty chance he’d do as I asked. “Sophie’s coming over.” He tried to shrug off my hand. “Fred wants you to take care of her this evening. Watch over her. Guard her from danger.”
He ceased trying to escape and nodded solemnly. “I can do that.”
Wow! I’d found a way to manipulate him.
I dashed upstairs, eating pizza as I went, trying to avoid tripping on the ugly black skirt. I wondered which came first with those people on the farm. Were they grim and unhappy because they wore ugly clothes or did they wear ugly clothes because they were grim and unhappy? In any event, I certainly didn’t blame the ones who’d escaped. Poor Sarah. She went from one sad situation to another. I hoped Fred planned to hurt Dr. Dan. I’d hold him down to make it easier.
I changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt then went downstairs to find Sophie waiting just inside the front door, her expression solemn. Rickie wasn’t in the living room. I hoped he was in the kitchen eating.
“Fred asked me to come over and take care of the boy,” she said. “He told me to lock all the doors and windows and to let no one inside. What’s going on?”
“It’s a long story. We’ll have a glass of wine and talk when I get back. Be careful. There’s an iron skillet in the kitchen if you need it.”
She looked puzzled. “An iron skillet? Do I need to cook something?”
“No, I wouldn’t cook in that skillet. Never mind. We’ll be back soon. In the meantime, if you see anybody suspicious, call 911.”
“We’ll be fine.” She didn’t sound all that sure.
The 911 reference reminded me to call Trent. I hit speed dial as I crossed my yard to Fred’s. He was sitting in his car, waiting.
“News about Matthew?” I asked as soon as Trent answered. I didn’t want to give him a chance to ask what I was doing. He gets nervous sometimes when I hang out with Fred. I’d tell him about it afterward, when it would be too late for him to protest.
“When Matthew Graham first came to town twelve years ago, he tried to report his sister missing, but he had no proof he ever had a sister. The officer who took the report wrote him off as a nutcase. We were just getting computerized back then, and his case file fell through the cracks.”
“Matthew wasn’t a nutcase,” I said. “His sister lived and probably died in Fred’s house.”
Chapter Eighteen
Clutching the phone to my ear, I slid into Fred’s passenger seat and handed his keys to him.
“We’ve been for a visit to the not-so-funny farm where Dr. Dan and Matthew grew up,” I told Trent.
Fred started the car and we eased down the street. The speed demon I’d ridden with half an hour before was gone.
Trent listened quietly as I told him about the couple from American Gothic and the demon truck that tried to kill us. Actually, he had no choice but to listen quietly as I talked very fast so he didn’t have a chance to interrupt. I heard some background noise that was probably cursing, but it’s never a good idea to give somebody a chance to talk when you know you’re not going to want to hear what they have to say.
Finally I ran out of story.
“You’ve been busy.” Trent sounded a little edgy. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely. No harm done except to Fred’s car. I was never worried. Fred had it all under control.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t completely true, but I saw no point in worrying him.
“What are you doing now?” he asked.
“Now? Right now?”
“Right now. This minute. What are you doing?”
I didn’t want to lie, but refraining from telling everything you know is different from lying. “I ordered a pizza for Rickie, and I’m just finishing a piece.” I put the last bit of crust in my mouth and chewed.
“Rickie? Rickie? Don’t tell me he’s back!”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that part. The Fergusons brought him over and dumped him. At least they can’t accuse me of kidnapping him this time.” Though I might have to murder him. The system will probably go easier on me for that.
“What are you going to do with him?”
“I don’t know.” I didn’t like thinking about Rickie, but at least it served to divert Trent from my current activitie
s. “Sophie’s at my house and will probably spend the night. Rickie actually seems to like her. Maybe she can keep him from setting off a pipe bomb in my living room.”
The traffic light turned green and the jerk behind us, someone even more impatient than I, leaned on his horn.
“Are you talking on your cell phone and driving again?” Trent asked.
“No,” I replied truthfully. He didn’t ask if I was riding.
“Would you do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
“Before you go off with Fred on any more of these expeditions, would you let me know first? I realize Fred’s very competent, but I’m a cop. I have a badge and a gun. And I’m your boyfriend. I have a personal interest in your safety. I’d like to be around to take care of you.”
Damn. He’d just put me in a tough spot. I didn’t want to make a promise I was already in the process of breaking.
“Ask him to come over and spend the night with you,” Fred said.
I gaped at him in astonishment. “What? Why?”
“Is that Fred?” Trent asked.
“If things go the way I expect them to,” Fred replied, “it won’t hurt to have him there to keep you and Sophie safe. And Rickie.”
“What?” Sophie, Rickie and I needed protection? “Sophie, maybe, but I have an iron skillet and Rickie’s a demon child.”
“It’s never a good thing when you bring up that skillet,” Trent said.
“Trent,” Fred said, speaking loudly, “can you come over and spend the night with Lindsay? Things may get rough.”
“What is he talking about?” Trent asked.
“I have no idea. But I really would like to see you tonight.” There. I’d actually admitted it. I needed him to come over and hold me and tell me everything was going to be all right. I hated to sound needy, but Fred had brought it up. “I have to go now. I’ll call you later and we’ll talk.” I disconnected the call before he had a chance to protest.
I turned to Fred. “What do you mean, things are going to get rough? You’re going to make Dr. Dan confess and…” I hadn’t thought much beyond that. “You’ll subdue him then we’ll call the cops and have him hauled in, right? So why did you tell Trent to come over?”
Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 04 - Chocolate Mousse Attack Page 15