Hanging by a Thread

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Hanging by a Thread Page 8

by Margaret Evans


  Yeah. It would be definitely easier if…there were so many better options than the separate lives in which they were caught.

  But she was very glad to be back in Raging Ford.

  Where Connor Fitzpatrick was.

  thirteen

  Jessica Wright did exactly what Paul Dotson had advised: She was living in hiding in Mankato, Minnesota, far from Raging Ford. The pair had trashed their old phones and gotten new “burners.” They called no one they knew from the past, just each other.

  “Remember, Jessica,” Dotson had told her, “someone is setting both of us up and that means it’s a pretty smart person. And a dangerous person. Be careful and keep your head low until we can figure out who it is. Then we’ll go to the cops.”

  It was on this particular day that Jessica was being careful and she happened to notice a car behind her that seemed to be weaving in and out of traffic but staying the same distance from her. She was just heading up to the lake for a break from the claustrophobic motel and a lunch in the fresh air when she spotted the car. When she stopped for a red light, she tapped in Dotson’s number.

  “Paul, I think someone’s following me. They’ve been with me since I left Mankato.”

  “Do you recognize the car? Have you seen it before?”

  “They’re too far away for me to tell, but I think it does look familiar.”

  “Be careful, Jessica. Stay in crowded traffic areas.”

  “I’m already almost at the lake. There isn’t much traffic here.”

  “Just be careful, Jessie. What exit did you take?”

  When she told him, he advised her not to worry; he was on his way and would be there soon.

  “Just don’t get out of your car before I get there. Lock the doors. Stay put if you see anyone. I’m on my way. If you get scared, call 911.”

  As she pulled into one of the turnouts to the lake, she saw no other cars except hers. She glanced at the fast-food lunch on the front passenger seat and began opening the bag. It was not the same as sitting on a rock overlooking the lake and taking in the fresh breeze, but it would have to do.

  Paul had told her not to get out of her car, but she was well trained to put her trash in the bins, so she grabbed her bag and got out of the car. When she heard the crunch of gravel behind her, she froze and turned to see who it was.

  “Oh, I’m so glad to see you,” she said, immensely relieved.

  “And I’m very happy to see that you’re okay. We were all worried about you when you didn’t show up for work.”

  “Were you following me earlier?” Jessica asked.

  “Yes, that was me. I thought I saw your car and followed. You’ve no idea how worried we’ve all been.”

  “Let me just toss my trash and we can talk,” Jessica said and continued on her way to the trash can.

  The other car door slammed.

  Jessica never made it to the trash can and never saw the tire iron that was wielded against her skull, punching a great hole in it. She never knew she was being rolled into a rug or dragged toward the trunk of a car. She knew nothing at all, anymore.

  Her trash bag was carefully placed with gloved hands into the trash bin. A half-crumpled note was set on the floor by the brake. The car was left with the door open, the keys still in the ignition. Blood was mopped up carefully and quickly. Jessica’s shoes were used to make footprints from her car to the edge of the lake, then tossed into the trunk with her body. Branches brushed away any trace of footsteps from the attacker and any evidence that a crime had taken place.

  The killer drove off with Jessica Wright’s body in the trunk and her car open and abandoned, in the lot right near the lake, in the fresh air she had loved so much.

  •••

  Paul Dotson pulled into the lot some moments later, stopped his car, and immediately went in search of Jessica. He had just missed the other car and spent the next hour fruitlessly trying to find her and didn’t think she would have left her car door open to run down the battery or abandon her purse or phone in the car.

  The phone.

  He carefully reached into her open car and plucked the burner phone from the passenger seat and tucked it into his other pocket. Now certain that someone had found and abducted her, that meant he was also in danger. Any connection to him had to go.

  Then he spotted the note and didn’t touch it but read the scratchy handwriting which looked similar to Jessica’s.

  It was a suicide note, telling the world she was sorry for what she had done and couldn’t stand the guilt any longer. She hoped everyone would forgive her.

  Paul knew the note was not real; it couldn’t be. She’d been followed, she said. She was scared, but she would not have taken her own life after vehemently denying to him any wrongdoing.

  And it made him sad. He liked Jessica, and it wasn’t right that she should have been accused falsely, set up, tortured with blackmail, and then abducted. He hoped they wouldn’t hurt her. Maybe they’d use her to get to him.

  And he had a good idea who it might be, but he wasn’t certain.

  When he left the parking lot, he left Jessica’s car with the door open and her purse in full view. He drove to the highway and headed north, going about thirty miles before he stopped in a town big enough to still have a payphone as many of these older towns did.

  He put his jacket over the mouthpiece and made the 911 call then headed due west toward North Dakota to get off the grid again until he could figure the whole thing out.

  fourteen

  The SPDP&G committee was holding a field trip. This particular field trip was the annual trek to the warehouse on the highway just outside Raging Ford where the floats for the St. Patrick’s Day parade were stored. The group always checked out the floats and approved their condition in advance so that the various civic and private organizations could decorate them for the parade.

  They were late getting to the floats this year because of scheduling conflicts with the committee members. In fact, it was beginning to look as if no one would be checking the floats before the parade at all. A kerfuffle had broken out near the cars parked in the warehouse lot.

  Bryce Preshka was trying to shout everyone down.

  “Look, I don’t have the keys—Jade does. She isn’t here, so we can’t go inside to look at the floats and make sure everything’s okay.”

  “But we need to check them out so people can clean them up and make them pretty for this year’s parade,” Rina argued. She was thinking of all the spider webs and raccoon nests that often decorated the floats in the off months.

  “And did we decide to use horse carts pulling them again this year or switch over to trucks with hitches?” Erica posed. “Horses can make such a mess, but the people love them.”

  “How do you put up with this every year?” Laura whispered in Jenna’s ear.

  “I hold my nose and do it for the kids.”

  “We’d get it done more efficiently if just the four of us took it over.”

  “Do you have time for that?”

  “Not really, but I think I’ve wasted more time with this dysfunctional bunch than I would have spent doing it all by myself.”

  Jenna smiled.

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Where is Jade?” Laura asked the crowd. She and her friends had made special breaks in their schedules to meet the team at the warehouse. Right now, Second Treasures was closed for a long lunch. She hoped it wouldn’t cost her too much in lost revenue, but the longer they stood here arguing…

  Miles walked up to the window next to the locked warehouse door tried to see inside.

  “Looks like everything’s okay. Will this count?”

  “No! Of course it doesn’t,” Rina insisted. “We have to go inside and look at every float to make sure each one is usable, operable, and safe.”

  Laura f
igured Rina had a checklist with little boxes that needed perfect Xs for each float.

  But no one knew where Jade was and the arguing continued. Laura was grateful she had brought her own car and now headed toward it.

  “Where are you going, Laura?” Rina asked.

  “She has a business to run, Rina,” Erica answered for her friend.

  “But—but—”

  Just then Jade pulled up. Everyone except Laura and her friends crowded around the lady’s car. They assaulted her with their questions about the keys to the warehouse.

  “Oh, the keys. I forgot them. I was working on my baby’s application to a special school for the talented and above-average IQ child.”

  Jade took the groans and frustrated expletives as an insult to her seven-month-old baby.

  “Well, I’m not sorry. You’re not working around a child’s important education, and I am because I’m a good parent.”

  Laura didn’t listen for anything more. She got in her car and left. They could wait as long as they wanted or not go in the warehouse at all, as far as she was concerned. Her friends followed her, as did Aaron and Miles.

  She cast a quick glance in her rear view window and saw Jade’s arms waving wildly as she argued with Bryce, and Rina’s red face.

  It seemed to her that it would take a miracle to get the parade going on time. And yet somehow this highly ineffectual group managed to make it happen year after year. She had a crazy thought that maybe it was Rina who was holding it all together with her OCD.

  She said a quick, silent prayer for the strength to succeed with the costumes about which no one had bothered to inquire. Time was running out on all the preparations. Thankfully, she had made decisions and progress on what everyone should wear, whether they liked it or not, and then she planned to wash her hands of the whole group and never do this again. Or talk to any of them unless they came into her shop and wanted to buy something.

  •••

  One last trip here to sew this up tight and then all was done for this part. A laugh and chuckle over the terminology of “sewing” took over for a minute. Who thought up expressions like that, anyway?

  Key in the door, enter the apartment, make sure all was as it should be. Evidence planted to make sure the right people were blamed, as they ought to be. Life had to happen in a certain order and certain folks had to pay for messing things up.

  Ouch!

  Twisting the doorknob had hurt.

  Getting tired of this whole thing and so glad it was almost over. Just a few more loose threads—another chuckle—to tend to. Then life could keep going on as before.

  fifteen

  Connor arrived late for the bridal/groomal shower, but he hadn’t missed all the games, the food or the present opening. The group was still in the midst of the ice-breaker games. He stood, arms folded, near the living room, saw a bottle that they were spinning in the middle of the floor and wondered what that was about. When it stopped spinning and was aimed at Jenna, he understood the game.

  “Sabina,” Jenna said, “kiss Jack on his left ear.”

  Sabina dutifully kissed Jack Flynn on his left ear.

  They had all been cautioned not to let things get out of control but were encouraged to make the activity playful and fun.

  The next spin pointed the bottle at Eric Williams. He moved his glance to Sabina’s chest and told Jack to kiss his fiancée on her right…elbow and added that he knew a good lawyer if Flynn ever needed one.

  After the laughter and the kiss, Connor found a seat and joined the group, nodded to Laura. More kisses were administered back and forth between the couple before the game was declared won by Jack’s brother who had directed him to kiss his bride-to-be on the tip of her left small toe. It had taken Jack forever to get the laced-up boot and two pairs of woolen socks off her foot.

  The next game measured how much the couple knew about each other and remembered their courtship and how much their friends knew about the truth of their answers. Sabina went first and asked everyone when she and Jack went on their first date. She gave them three choices from which to pick and the guests wrote their answers, if they knew, or their guesses, if they didn’t, on a sheet of paper. More questions were asked and answers matched. Then Jack asked a question about when their first kiss was, and whether it was in fourth grade, tenth grade, or on their first date. Everything was fine until the “first kiss” question came up. Jack and Sabina had a disagreement about that. He claimed he had kissed her in fourth grade, and she was certain it wasn’t until tenth grade. So anyone who had picked either answer won a point, but the affianced couple glared at each other a bit after that, causing a great deal of laughter among their friends.

  The couple opened their presents, each taking a turn, and there was applause and vocal appreciation at the ingenuity of some of the gifts. Most were from the registry; all were appreciated by the couple. Towels, sheets, cookware, a blender, flatware, and dishes were piling up everywhere. Sabina’s mother took the gifts as they were opened and set them on her buffet, until they needed to be stacked. The piles grew.

  When the food was served, Connor found a seat next to Laura on the couch. “Funny, isn’t it, that we both picked the same gift?”

  “Yeah, everybody thinks we planned to each give them four glasses in their pattern.” She narrowed a look at him. “How did you know what I bought?”

  “I didn’t. I saw half of what they wanted had been bought, so I picked up the other four on the list.”

  “We should probably coordinate better on the wedding gift.”

  He agreed.

  “You know, I’ve never seen you in police formal wear,” Laura commented.

  “Mostly weddings and funerals. You still won’t in this case because Jack is not a police officer, so I wear a tux.”

  “I look forward to seeing you in a tux. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you in formal anything. We never went to a prom or any other dance.”

  “Oh. Yes, I have to talk to you about that. I’ll be wearing a tux to the prom, too.”

  “What prom? We’re not in high school any more, Connor,” she leaned toward him and spoke in a low voice.

  “The Raging Ford High School junior-senior prom is next month, and with all the concern about alcohol consumption and drug use, the school board has requested police presence at the prom. So…I’ve been asked to be a chaperone.”

  “Wow. Things used to be so different. People only worried about cigarettes and pot.”

  “Uh-huh. Different ballgame now. And my boss and his wife will be there. And so will my parents. But we’re the only cops. I was going to ask you if you wanted to go with me as a chaperone.”

  Laura thought about it for six seconds.

  “Will I get to wear a pretty dress and do my hair up special?”

  “You can dress up any way you want. Just remember we are supposed to be role models for the kids.”

  She sat back and smiled.

  “A prom. At last. Okay, I accept.”

  “This will be my first prom, too.”

  She looked surprised.

  “I have a good reason not to have ever been to a prom, but what’s yours?”

  “No one to ask.”

  “Oh, come on. There must have been gobs of girls asking you.”

  “Not gobs, but no one I wanted to go with.”

  “Wow,” she said, placing a hand on his arm, smiling at him. “Our first prom and together. Our biggest date yet! I can’t wait. When is it?”

  “Late April, after Easter. I’ll text you the details on it. We should practice our dancing sometime before the prom.”

  “I think we did pretty well after the Christmas party.”

  “Let’s practice a little, anyway. I am rusty on my salsa.”

  “Where can we practice?”

  “Where else
? In my parents’ basement. And by the way, do you remember the first time we kissed?”

  “Of course. I was 9 and you were 10, and we were playing Lego wars in my bedroom. You got up and shut the door and did something on my mouth. I think you may have thought it was a kiss.”

  “Ian put me up to that. Your dad caught us.”

  “He caught me with an angry look on my face and asked what we were doing, and if you hadn’t looked so guilty, nothing would have come of it. I had to save your ass by telling him we were playing Lego wars and things got out of hand.”

  “How about the next time I kissed you?”

  “You mean the time in your basement when we were eating popcorn in front of Star Wars and I fell asleep?”

  “You knew about that?”

  “When someone leans across you and reaches for popcorn and does something like a kiss on your mouth, it wakes you up.”

  Connor laughed.

  “It was an opportunity. All this time…since I was thirteen, I felt guilty about that. You pretended to be asleep?”

  “Mmm. Well, you did save me from turning sweet sixteen and never being kissed because I was locked up in Maryland with my Great-aunt Rose and her cohorts, and there was no chance of anything like that happening there.”

  “Are you thanking me for my two inept attempts?”

  “I guess.”

  •••

  Laura had little time to think about that prom or childhood kisses, with all that she had to do just to keep her head above water right now. The biggest problem she had was the costumes for the committee. Her friends had sent her a myriad of suggestions, and she decided on Jenna’s “simple is best.”

  Black leggings or pants.

  Short black jackets with long sleeves.

  Emerald green tees.

  Big shamrocks for boutonnières.

  The big, green top hats.

  Shoes – Undecided but probably black.

  Socks – Black, of course.

 

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