There Was a Crooked Man: A Psychological Thriller

by Katrina Morgan

  Teller Bethany entered the room, and Darrow briefed her on the situation.

  Bethany listened with her eyes wide, and her mouth hanging open. “I sent her to Angela when she didn’t have a license or debit card. We have to get supervisors involved when such situations happen.” Bethany licked her lips several times. “I don’t know anything else.”

  “Angela?” Darrow asked, waiting for clarification.

  “Angela Krebs, Sir. She runs this branch.”

  Darrow and Hopkins paced the small room waiting for the supervisor.

  Angela entered and took charge, “You have questions about Kathryn Follings?” Angela sat down and straightened her jacket, ready to conduct business. “I saw her on Friday morning.”

  “Finally,” Hopkins huffed out a breath and sat down too.

  Turning to a new page in his trusty notebook, Darrow asked questions, “So, the account was emptied? Completely closed?”

  “Yes, Sir. It’s unusual, so I remember it well. She had no driver’s license, no other ID, so I took her through a list of security questions. She answered them correctly, her signature matched, so

  we honored her request.”

  “How much money did she have?”

  Angela started to protest, but Hopkins pushed the warrant across the table, tapping it once. Angela left to verify the amount. When she returned, she plunked a copy of the withdrawal slip onto the table. It showed $5254.28.

  Darrow and Hopkins made eye contact. The amount matched what Jenkins had found.

  “Was there anyone else with her?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  “Did she seem nervous or scared?”

  Angela thought about the question. “Not scared. Nervous. She never quit talking.”

  “Any idea where she went?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t. I had another client waiting.”

  “We’d like to watch the surveillance tapes from Friday morning.”

  All three trooped to a row of computers and watched Katie walk into the lobby. “White Shirt. Black pants. Just like the cabbie said,” Darrow noted.

  Hopkins agreed, “Yep. Hair pulled back. Glasses.”

  Darrow and Hopkins sat in their cruiser, outside the bank, mulling over the possibilities.

  “This seems to be Katie’s destination on Friday. She took a cab to a local neighborhood and walked up to a strange house.”

  “Setting a scene? Trying to throw us off?” Darrow asked.

  “If so, it worked.” Hopkins let out a sigh and picked up the thread of his thoughts. “She goes to the bank and removes all her money.”

  “She didn’t seem to be under duress,” Darrow added. “No one else was with her. The cameras show her walking out of the bank without even looking around.”

  Hopkins listed additional facts, “She goes to a motel and registers under a false name.”

  “Katie wanted to disappear.”

  “Probably, but we need to know for sure. Where’d she go? How’d she leave the area?”

  Katie handed over the growing stack of documents and another $48.00 for license plates. She’d been at the license bureau for an hour and a half and was numb to time and money.

  Finally done, she stood in the parking, holding her new license plates. She had no tools and was befuddled as to what to do next. A woman heading toward the driver’s bureau saw Katie’s deflated face and took pity. “I’ve got a wrench. I’ll help you.”

  With the plates in place, and an enthusiastic thank you to the woman, Katie shoved the title and registration into the glove box. The truck made a grinding noise when Katie turned the key.

  Assuming she’d tried to re-start an already running engine, Katie’s face turned red. More eager than ever to get away from this place, she turned right and headed toward I-95. If she drove hard, she’d be in White City, Florida, in six hours.

  Jack had been listening to the whispers floating around the office for almost an hour. His co-workers had found numerous reasons to walk past his office, gauging his demeanor. Jack walked out of his office and took in the group of cubicles, and the heads tilted together. One by one, they became aware of his staring at them, and the office grew eerily quiet.

  “Look, I understand you all have questions, but things were fine Friday morning. “By noon, Katie was missing.” He shoved away from the wall. “I don’t know where she is. The police don’t either. My being here doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

  He nodded a few times. “I can hear the things you’re saying.”

  They looked guilty and glanced away.

  “Staying home is making me nuts. I need to stay busy. Can you understand that?”

  No one answered.

  “I didn’t do anything to my fucking wife!” Jack stomped to his office and slammed the door. The whispering resumed immediately.

  The numbers on the report Jack was reading blurred together. God damn bitch.

  Hopkins and Darrow drove aimlessly through the business area in Middleburg. “She doesn’t seem to have an accomplice or lover,” Darrow said randomly.

  “She didn’t have another car either, or why take the cab?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  Pointing at the bus stop blocks from the Motel 6, Hopkins replied, “I think she took a bus as far away as she could go.”

  Darrow nodded. It made sense. “Has she done anything wrong at this point?”

  Hopkins pursed his lips. “No, except for the false name at the motel.”

  “Nothing wrong with leaving.”

  As Katie neared the highway ramp, the impact hit. She pulled over and rested her forehead against the steering wheel. “We did it, Cassie.” Wiping away happy tears, Katie pulled into a Taco Bell to grab some lunch.

  Darrow Googled bus routes while Hopkins ran to grab two coffees. Hopkins handed over one of the cups. “Anything?”

  “Routes are circling the entire Savannah area with stops toward Georgetown, Isle of Hope, Montgomery, Garden City etcetera. She could have headed anywhere.”

  “Hmm.” Hopkins pointed toward a Chevron gas station diagonal from the bus stop. “Think they have any cameras?”

  “Why bother? She obviously left on her own.”

  “I wanna be sure.”

  Darrow and Hopkins walked into the gas station, and Hopkins pointed at the two cameras outside. “Do those cameras work?”

  The clerk nodded.

  “We need to call the local police again. We’ve got no authority here,” Darrow reminded Hopkins.

  When the assigned police officer from Middleburg arrived at the gas station, the group watched the video from Friday and saw nothing. “Load Saturday’s tapes,” Hopkins ordered.

  “Is that her?” Darrow pointed at a woman on the screen.

  “Zoom in!” Hopkins barked. The picture grew grainier, and Hopkins squinted. “Same build. Ponytail and glasses.”

  “Yep. She’s changed her hair color and cut it too.” Darrow noted the time and location.

  The officers watched the footage closely. The woman kept her head down and boarded bus number 5621. The facial features matched the picture Jack had supplied.

  “Ok. We’ve seen enough.” Hopkins motioned Darrow and the local officer outside.

  The Middleburg officer looked at his watch. “Are we done?”

  Hopkins answered. “She didn’t look coerced. There’s no crime here.”

  As the officer turned to leave, Hopkins called out, “Hey, no use in saying anything to the press about this until we finish our report, right?” He waited, hoping to God the man got the point.

  The officer nodded once. “Sounds good to me. This one’s from your office, not ours.”

  Darrow waited until he was alone with Hopkins. “What gives?”

  “I’m giving Katie more time. We tell Jack the bare basics—she left on a bus. Period. We write a thorough, time-consuming report and share those details with Jack later in the week. Katie gets another three or four days under her belt.”
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  “You think Jack will do something?”

  Hopkins shrugged, “I don’t want what seems to be an escape becoming a crime scene.”

  Katie jumped back in the truck, ready to hit the highway. The engine made the grinding noise again, and Katie hung her head. “Dammit, Rob! You sold me a piece of crap, didn’t you?”

  Chapter 43

  Katie had been driving an hour--singing to the radio and moving quickly down the highway. Glancing at the speedometer, she yipped, “Seventy-seven miles per hour!” She braked and frowned immediately. “What’s that sound?” She stabbed off the radio, listening intently. The sound disappeared. The steering wheel vibrated a little, and the truck kept pulling to the left.

  The vibration grew more substantial, and Katie slowed the vehicle in the breakdown lane. The sound of metal grinding on metal was unmistakable.

  She yanked out the map she'd snatched from Dollar General. “Where am I?” Katie craned her neck and squinted to read the mile marker. Locating it on the map, she saw the next town, Bluff Creek, was less than five miles away. Katie checked the odometer. “I’ve only gone sixty-eight miles? Frickin’ fantastic.”

  Katie pulled back on the highway, fighting the steering wheel to keep the truck in the right-hand lane. “What’s that smell?” She lowered the window and inhaled. “Something’s burning!” She checked the mirrors as fast as possible, lifting herself up off the seat to see behind the tailgate. Seeing nothing, she kept going. “Come on, you stupid truck!”

  Nearing the exit, Katie slowed down, and the grinding and the smell intensified. “Oh, God. There’s smoke!” She coasted off the highway into an Exxon station on Route 341 and ran inside.

  “My truck’s smoking! Ya’ll have a mechanic here?”

  “No, ma’am,” the clerk answered, leaning sideways to see her truck, “but there’s one down the road a piece— Ginos. Most folks around here use his garage.”

  “How do I get there? That truck’s not going much further.”

  He pointed out the window, “Take this road about a mile. Make the first right. Gino’s is on the left-hand side.”

  Katie babied the truck, gripping the steering wheel, which was shaking hard enough to make her upper body quake too. Once at Gino’s, everyone was busy or at lunch. She signed in and watched the hour hand switch over to 1 p.m. Wandering to the window, she noted ominous gray clouds were building. Katie shook her head. Of course it would rain. It fit the day.

  A mechanic approached the waiting room desk, wiping his hands on an already filthy rag. It didn’t matter. Nothing was going to remove the staining of grease and oil, which permeated his hands. He read off her name, “Anne Morrison?”

  Katie crossed the room quickly. “Are you Gino?”

  He nodded. “Says here you’ve got trouble with your truck?”

  “Yes. It’s making a grinding noise, and I even saw smoke!”

  “Pulling?”

  “Yes, to the left.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a burned-out wheel bearing. If it’s smoking, the damn thing’s probably seized up.”

  “What does that mean?” Katie asked, trying not to whine.

  “Means you ain’t going any further until we fix it.”

  “Oh, God.” Thunder crashed, and rain lashed at the window.

  “My son’s finishing another truck, then I can get yours up on the rack--see if we can save the bearing. I doubt the rotor’s any good either. If we change the rotor, gotta change the brake pads, too.” He rubbed his right ear leaving a line of grease.

  Befuddled by his shoptalk, Katie asked, “It’s just the one wheel thing, right?”

  “How many miles are on it?”

  “Ninety-three thousand.”

  Gino shook his head sadly. “I wouldn’t chance it. If one bearing’s bad, the other one’s right behind it. Means it hasn’t been greased up and taken care of.” He raised an eyebrow.

  Katie put her hands up in the air, “Not on me. I just bought the damn thing.”

  “No kidding? Bad luck for you.”

  “Do you have all those parts?”

  “If you had an F150 or Silverado, we’d be in luck. A Dakota, though?” He lifted a shoulder and grimaced.

  Katie twisted her hair around a finger. “So, this isn’t going to be done today?”

  “No, ma’am, it’s not.”

  “Any guess on cost?”

  Gino tilted his head, considering. “I’d have to write it all down to be sure, but wheel bearings, including labor, will be around a thousand.Rotors and pads for the front? Add another two-fifty.”

  “So, the best case is a thousand, and the worst case is twelve-hundred?"

  “There about. Gotta figure tax on parts and disposal fees. Maybe another hundred dollars.”

  Katie dropped her head into her hands. “I’m going to be sick. How long will this take?”

  “If I order the parts today, they’ll be in by tomorrow afternoon--Wednesday morning at the latest. Should have you back on the road late Wednesday afternoon or Thursday.”

  “Is there a cheap hotel around here?”

  “There’s a Travelodge and a Holiday Inn back by the highway.” Gino looked at her and saw genuine tears forming. “You have anyone you can call?”

  Katie shook her head.

  “You’re travelin’ alone?”

  Lightning flashed again, and Katie hesitated. How much information should I give? Noting his gray hair and wedding ring, Katie answered, “Yes. I’m moving to Florida. This,” she gestured wildly toward the truck, “is gonna make a serious dent in my finances.”

  “If you’re interested, they rent cabins and campsites in Old Bluff Creek. It’s not far, maybe a half-mile at the most. They’re not ritzy, but it would be cheaper than a motel.”

  “What’s the name?”

  “Connelly Rentals. Don Connelly—a friend of mine-- rents them. There’s a brochure on the rack.” Gino pointed toward the wall closest to the door and asked for her keys.

  Katie handed them over and trudged toward the display. She read the slick ad and called the number listed.

  “Connelly Rentals and Construction. Don speaking.”

  “Umm. Hi. I’m wondering if I could rent a campsite or one of those cabins by the creek?”

  “Well, now, it depends on when you want it.” His voice was smooth as old whiskey.

  “Today. My truck’s at Gino's garage, and he’s telling me it could be a day or two.”

  Don scratched his head. “Well, we’re pretty booked up for the weekend, but let me see what’s available.” Computer keys clicked in the background. “You’re in luck. We’ve got two campsites open and one small cabin.”

  “How much are they?” Katie asked as she watched Gino drive her truck around the parking lot.

  “It’s $17 per night to camp, but they’re primitive,” Don warned, “No electricity. Just a fire pit and picnic table. The communal bathroom is nearby. It’s $30 per night to get the full luxury of a cabin, complete with electricity and a bathroom,” Don chuckled to himself.

  Communal bathroom? No electricity? Katie hung her head. “I’ll take the cabin.”

  Don took down the information and gave her instructions on how to find his office. “We’ll have the cabin cleaned up for you. It’s available ‘til Friday.”

  Katie hung up, calculating expenses. She stood by the desk until Gino finally noticed and came out again.

  “You get ahold of Don?”

  Katie nodded. “Will my truck hold up long enough for me to go back to the Walmart by the highway? I need some supplies.”

  “No way. That wheel seizes up? You’ll be stranded. The damn thing could catch fire.”

  “How am I gonna get to the cabin?” She gestured toward the window, where rain still fell in steady drops.

  Gino’s eyes widened. “Well hell. I didn’t think about that.” He grabbed the phone, punching in numbers. “Don? It’s Gino.” He rolled his eyes and answered Don’s questions. “We’re
all doing fine. Listen, a lady just called to rent a site from you.”

  “Yep-- a lady named Anne.” Don leaned his chair back on two legs, ready to talk, “Sounds like she’s stuck.” He left it as a question, interested in any details Gino offered.

  “She is. She’s also by herself and could use a little help.”

  Katie cringed.

  “Any chance you could get her out to the creek? I don’t want her to drive this truck anywhere until I get it fixed.”

  Katie shook her head vehemently.

  Gino held up his index finger. “If she has to wait on Vinnie or me, she’ll be sittin’ her ‘til after five.”

  “Sure.” Don landed the chair back on all four legs, happy to be part of the action. “I’m free, and if my Maggie gets wind I’m sitting here doing nothin’, she’ll make a to-do list up quicker than you can blink.” Don laughed. “Give me ten to fifteen minutes.”

  “Sure thing. Thanks, Don.”

  When Gino turned back toward Katie, she looked ready to crumble. “Why did you do that? I can’t drive off with a total stranger. He could be a psycho, an ax murderer!”

  “Don?” Gino chuckled. “I told ya I’ve known him all my life. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. You’ll be fine and a lot happier with him than hangin’ out here.”

  Katie’s nerves snapped. “You should have asked me first.”

  Gino put up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry. I was trying to help. Why dontcha fill this out the best you can, and we’ll see about getting you back on the road, okay?”

  Katie nodded once. Calm down, girl. She took the clipboard and began writing down answers. She peeked at her new driver’s license to write down the false address. Gino filled in the rest, scribbling in a quick estimate. She took a business card off the desk. “Can I call tomorrow and see how things are going?”

  Gino nodded as he turned to answer the phone.

  Katie went to the parking lot, grateful the rain had stopped. Luckily, most of her clothes were already in the suitcase. She shoved her precious papers inside and zipped it closed just as a white Jeep pulled in and honked.

  An older man unfolded long legs and stepped out with ease.

  “You, Anne?” He asked.