A small heap of beer bottles lay beside a large, flat rock serving as a makeshift bench. He scowled at a couple of broken ones, the pieces scattered about the patches of sand and grass.
He turned and went back up to the campsite; he would have to come back later. Right now, time was wasting away and life was short. So short.
The sound of a helicopter somewhere above the trees caught his attention. He gazed upward, attempting to spot it through the thickness of the leaves, until the sound faded away. He crossed his arms, frowned, and continued to glare upwards. That was the second helicopter that had flown over, more than a bit unusual. Perhaps Annie was right, and they were looking for her.
He forced the matter from his mind. Maybe he would go see what the rest of the Lincoln family were up to right now. He strode into the forest with the intent to circle around the lake through the trees, and sneak up to their campsite from the far side.
He picked a path carefully around a fallen tree, and then raised his head to the unexpected sight of a girl, not ten feet ahead. She was surprised by his sudden appearance and stopped short, her eyes wide, then stepped forward and smiled. “Hi, I’m Rosie.”
He avoided the introduction as he scrutinized her, his eyes roving over her skin-tight pants, her revealing blouse, with a seductive pose and a teasing look in her eye that was more than friendly.
He knew who she was, of course; he’d seen her at the campsite earlier. He didn’t like her then, and he didn’t like her now. She reminded him too much of those slutty women he used to hang around with, back when he and Otis were the best of buds and had nothing better to do.
“Were you coming to our site to visit?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “I was just in the area.”
As she gazed at him, her eyes narrowed. “You look familiar.”
He shrugged.
Her hand covered her mouth and she gasped. “It’s your eyes. You’re … you’re the killer who escaped from prison a few days ago.” She stood still, unable to move, and then turned to run.
He caught her by the arm and gave it a brutal twist, forcing her around to face him, then grasped her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length.
She trembled and he saw terror in her eyes. She tried to break free, striking at him with her hands. He gripped her arms, forcing her to stop, but she kicked at him, screaming, “Let me go.”
He freed one hand and swung a fist. It connected with the side of her head and she went down onto her back and lay still.
She held up her hands as if to ward off further blows. “Please,” she begged. “You don’t have to do this.” She dropped her hands and forced a smile, another attempt to seduce him, this time to save her life. “I can give you much more than you ever hoped for.”
Her solicitation only served to increase his anger—furious at the stupid girl who’d recognized him, annoyed at himself for being seen before he was ready, and burning now with a desire to end her useless life.
This new feeling astounded him. He’d never killed a woman before and the impulse to do so now caught him totally unaware. He hesitated, unable to move, and unwilling to act on this strange new urge.
She must have sensed his abhorrence of her proposition. Before he could clear his mind and make a decision, she rolled, scrambled across the forest floor on all fours, and then stumbled to her feet.
She was getting away and he couldn’t let that happen.
“Come back,” he called, striding forward.
She had found her voice again, and as she tore through the trees, the bushes grabbing at her, she cried for help. She pushed through branches and briers, their prickly thorns tearing at her jeans.
He avoided the obstacles she had blindly encountered in her uncontrollable urge to escape, and followed her with long strides.
Now on her hands and knees, she clawed her way up a bank, gaining ground, then sliding back.
He stooped down and caught her by a leg. She kicked at him in vain with the other one as he dragged her backwards. A shoe came off in his hand and he flung it aside, retrieved his grip on her ankle, and in a moment, she lay helpless and trembling at his feet.
“I can’t let you go,” he said.
“I … I won’t say anything.” She implored him with her eyes. “I promise. Just let me go and I—”
He dropped his right foot onto her throat, cutting off her pathetic words. With both hands, she struggled to remove the heavy boot choking off her air.
He removed his foot and she breathed again, panting for breath, unable to speak. She held up her hands for protection against further onslaught as he knelt at her side, slipped the hunting knife from the sheath, and held it up for her to see.
Her eyes grew wide as she stared at the fearsome weapon. “No.” She choked out the words. “No. Please.”
He smiled. “This won’t hurt.”
The perfectly honed knife descended toward her throat, gripped in his right hand while he held her down with the other.
Her arms flailed uselessly toward his face, coming short of their mark. Now weakened and unable to fight, she ripped at his shirt, at his throat, his chest, her nails gouging his flesh, drawing blood.
He didn’t feel the pain she inflicted on him as he finished the task, the knife sinking deep into her flesh, her throat severed. He dodged the upward spray of blood and when it finally subsided, he rose to his feet.
The shower died to a trickle, and then stopped, the green moss below her head now stained a bright red.
Her unseeing eyes still reflected the terror and hopelessness she had felt. He didn’t like to see it. It disturbed him. He rolled the lifeless body over to hide the face, wiped the knife clean on the back of her blouse, and stood.
He gazed at the body a few minutes, sighed, and walked away.
He hadn’t enjoyed that as much as usual. It made him feel uncomfortable. He shook off the strange feeling and picked up his pace, leaving his troubled thoughts behind him with the fresh corpse.
CHAPTER 47
Sunday, 7:01 AM
JAKE STOPPED AND sank down beside a tree, his head in his hands. He was no closer to finding Annie than he was the night before. The cabin he so desperately sought had evaded him and his hopes faded.
He was in the middle of the wilderness, Annie was missing, and the boys were hidden in an insecure spot. They faced an unknown enemy and he had lost control of the situation. His usual optimism was consumed.
He felt he had no choice but to return to the boys and wait for Andy Fletcher to come back. The warden knew where the cabin was, knew the owner, and he was the best chance they had now.
Reluctantly, he made his way back to the cave where he left the boys. He crouched down and looked in. They were gone.
His attention was caught by a scratching in the dirt outside the entranceway—words, “Back soon. Don’t worry.”
He stood and looked thoughtfully around, wondering where they might have gone. He had fully expected them to stay where he left them, but now they had wandered off—or had they? If they ran into foul play from an intruder, Matty wouldn’t have left a note. A least, not likely.
He felt satisfied they’d left on their own accord. The boys wouldn’t leave without a reason. Though his son said nothing, Jake was certain Matty was aware of something sinister taking place. And whatever was taking place, now that they were out in the open, he worried they might be exposed to danger. He now feared for the boys as well as for Annie.
He checked out both campsites in hopes they’d gone looking for food or drinks. Finding no indication where they might be, he went back to the cave, ducked inside, and reluctantly waited.
~~*~~
MATTY SCRAMBLED up a grade, stood on the top of the ridge, and looked ahead. “Yes,” he shouted. “There it is. There’s the cabin.”
Kyle made it to the top and stood beside Matty, peering in the direction his friend pointed.
“Do you see it?” Matty asked. “I can make it out through the trees.”
“Let’s go.” Matty went ahead, stopped after a few steps, turned to Kyle and raised a finger. “We need to be quiet in case someone’s there.”
Kyle nodded and followed. They dodged behind trees and bushes, making their way to the edge of the clearing surrounding the cabin.
“We’ll circle around first,” Matty said. “Just in case somebody’s outside.”
They stepped back into the trees, and staying out of sight as much as possible, they skirted around the building, returning to their starting point.
“The windows are all covered,” Kyle said.
“Yeah, I noticed that. They weren’t like that before. Somebody lives here?”
“Do you think he’s inside?” Kyle asked. “I don’t think he would cover the windows if he was.”
Matty scratched his head. “I think you’re right, but did you notice the padlocks on the shutters? He’s trying to keep intruders out.”
“Maybe he went on a holiday.”
Matty chuckled. “I don’t think so. This place is a holiday. You don’t go on a holiday from a holiday.”
“Yeah, I guess not.”
“He might be out hunting.” Matty took a step forward. “Let’s go take a look.”
They eased toward the building and Matty pointed. “Look, the front door is padlocked too.”
“So there’s definitely nobody there.”
“I guess not.”
Kyle dropped his hands on his hips and cocked his head at Matty. “Now what?”
Matty thought a moment. “We should probably go back to the cave and wait for Dad. He said he’d be back soon.”
“He might be mad at us,” Kyle whispered.
“Don’t worry. He’ll get over it when he finds out about this place.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Matty turned to leave then stopped suddenly and held up a hand. “Shhh. Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“A banging. I heard something banging.” Matty turned back and frowned at the cabin. “Somebody’s inside.”
“I don’t hear it.”
“It stopped,” Matty said, and hurried forward. “Come on.”
He reached the door, tightened his fist around the padlock, and tugged. It was locked securely. He stood back, unsure what to do.
“Maybe we should knock,” Kyle said.
Matty thought about that. “But what if somebody bad is in there?”
“I guess we just tell him we’re lost. If he looks dangerous then we run away.”
“It might be my mom in there,” Matty said. “She’s missing and you know she’s a private detective and always seems to get in some trouble.”
“Ok,” Kyle whispered. “You knock.”
Matty stepped forward, took a deep breath and rapped on the thick wooden door. Kyle backed up a couple of steps and appeared ready to run at a moment’s notice.
There was no indication anyone had heard the knock.
“Knock again,” Kyle said.
Matty knocked again and heard a muffled voice. “Hello.”
“Mom,” he shouted.
“Matty?”
“Yes, it’s me and Kyle, but the door’s locked with a padlock.”
“Can you break the lock?”
Matty leaned and peered at the padlock. “Maybe, but it’s a thick one. It looks pretty strong.”
“Where’s your father?”
“He’s … I’m not sure. He’s looking for you but he’s not here.”
There was silence from inside the building for a few moments.
“Mom. Are you still there?” Matty asked.
“I’m still here. I think you’d best go and find your father. I’ll be all right until you get back.”
Matty didn’t want to leave his mother. He was terrified the owner might come back, but horrified at what might happen to his mother. He bit his lip, stepped back from the door and looked around in desperation. He needed something to break the lock. He found a fallen tree branch, but it was rotting and would never do.
Kyle had found a log, a little bit sturdier, and he handed it to Matty and whispered, “Try this.”
Matty had doubts, but he wrapped his hands around the end and swung at the lock. Nothing happened. He hammered again and again until his fingers were numb, but the stubborn lock held firm.
“We have to get your dad,” Kyle said.
Matty nodded reluctantly. “I think you’re right.”
He stood still a couple of minutes and stared at the lock, frustrated and unsure what to do.
“Someone’s coming,” Kyle whispered.
Matty spun around and listened to the distinct sounds of something treading on leaves and branches. They had to get out of there—fast. He grabbed Kyle by the shirt and tugged at him.
Kyle didn’t need further encouragement. He tore behind Matty, across the front of the building, up the side, and into the forest.
Matty glanced over his shoulder as they ran. A man was coming from the trees at the far side of the house. He didn’t wait around for a clearer look. They dashed away as fast as they could, tearing through the forest.
When they were a safe distance away, Matty stopped short, Kyle almost barreling into him.
“We’re safe now,” he said. “But we have to find my father.” He turned sharply and jogged through the trees. He was certain he knew the way back now. He needed to find his dad, or somebody else he could trust, and then they would return and free his mother.
CHAPTER 48
Sunday, 7:20 AM
HOLLY CHURCHILL had enjoyed her bath in the stream a couple of days prior and had decided to look for the magic spot again and freshen herself. She had savored the invigorating water for almost an hour before she reluctantly stepped from the pool, dressed, and headed back to camp.
This was the last day of their excursion and they would be packing up to leave soon. She felt energized after a night’s sleep and early morning bath, and looked forward to going home. It’s not that she didn’t have an enjoyable weekend, but her companions left a lot to be desired.
As she neared their campsite and dipped over a knoll, she was startled by a bone-chilling sight. A body lay face down in the dirt, and even though half hidden behind a rotting tree, she recognized who it was. It was Rosie.
Even without a closer look, it was obvious Rosie was dead. Blood had spread from her severed throat and snaked across the dirt in a dark-red stream. Holly could see the face—the once pretty face, turned to the side, now utterly lifeless.
She stood paralyzed, her heart pounding against her ribs, unable to breathe for a few moments. Then she drew a quick breath, then another, hyperventilating, and crumpled to the ground, her legs too weak to sustain her.
She tried to call for help but her voice failed. Finally, she struggled to her hands and knees, closed her eyes, and tried to clear her mind.
She recalled how Jake Lincoln had warned them the day before. She’d been fearful, but had only half believed there was any danger. But this was Rosie—poor Rosie—the one who’d mocked Jake, and waved off his warning.
The girl didn’t deserve this. No one deserves this, and it took a few minutes for the horrible truth to penetrate.
Rosie—flirtatious, foolhardy, and carefree Rosie—was dead.
Eventually, she managed to stand. She shuddered violently and turned her back on the scene. She had to warn the others before it was too late.
She approached the camp cautiously in case the murderer still lurked close by, waiting, waiting for another victim.
With a breath of relief she saw Thad and Billy were there, safe, standing by one of the tents, laughing and talking casually. For a moment, she feared they might be the killer, or killers. Perhaps she was safer to make a run for it. She brushed the idea aside. They weren’t killers. A bit annoying, yes, but killers?
She stumbled a few more steps, tripped over a root, and almost fell to the ground. She regained her balance and
staggered toward them.
“Whoa,” the red-headed boy said, taking her arm to steady her. “What’s going on, Holly?”
“It … it’s Rosie. She’s dead, Thad.”
Thad looked at Billy, then back at Holly and frowned. “What’re you talking about?”
Holly pointed in the direction of her dreadful discovery. “Back there. Somebody … killed Rosie. She’s dead.”
Billy pushed back his baseball cap and leaned in toward her. “Show us,” he said, unbelief in his voice.
“I … I don’t want to go back there.”
“Then just show us where she is,” Thad said.
Holly looked behind her, hesitated, and then turned slowly and headed toward the forest. She beckoned with a hand. “This way.”
She wanted to run the other way but felt safer with Thad and Billy, so she led the way into the trees. When she got near the ghastly scene, she stopped and pointed. “Just over there.” She could make out a foot—Rosie’s foot.
Billy went ahead, easing up to the scene, and Thad followed. She heard them talking as they crept up to Rosie’s body. Thad stopped a few feet back but Billy went on.
“Is that Rosie?” Thad called.
Billy answered without taking his eyes off the body. “Sure is.”
“Is she dead?”
“Yup. Sure looks that way.” Billy crouched down for a closer look then turned and waved Thad over. “Come and see.”
“No thanks. I’ve seen enough,” Thad said. He turned back and stood beside Holly, watching Billy curiously.
Finally, Billy stood and joined them. “It’s pretty gruesome. Her head is almost halfway off. Looks like he used a knife.”
“We’d better get out of here,” Holly said, still trembling. “The killer might be lurking around.”
Billy shrugged. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I wouldn’t want to end up looking like that.”
Holly turned and scurried back to the site, the boys jogging behind.
“Leave the tents,” Chad said. “Let’s just get out of here.”
“Wait,” Holly said. “I need to get something.” She went into the tent she’d shared with Rosie. The dead girl’s backpack lay near her sleeping bag. She would have to leave it there. It would be too much for her to lug back and would only slow her down.
Justice Overdue: A Private Investigator Mystery Series Page 17