Dead and Gone

by Tina Glasneck

  “Sara, I can have the police help you get to the airport.”

  “Conner, I don’t want anyone else killed. It’s better if I work this out by myself, since somehow I’m immune to the spider venom. I’ll call if I need you to send a plane.”

  “I can arrange to have one waiting at the airport all day if you think you can get there.”

  “No. I want a plan first.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it your way.” He paused. “Sara, I have never stopped loving you.”

  When I heard him say that, an overwhelming deluge of emotions I had kept sealed away broke free and brought tears to my eyes. I wanted to tell him how I felt. Then the thought of what his family had done returned to my mind. I ended up saying nothing for what seemed like a minute. “I still love you too, Conner.” I should have added more to that sentence. I couldn’t think of the words to express myself. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye.”

  “Bye, Sara,” Conner said in a voice just above a whisper and hung up.

  I believed I would be safe with Conner, yet I wasn’t sure about his family. I longed to be near him again. Before I could even think about it, I had to find a way to leave Billings on my own.

  Using my computer, I looked up the airline schedules for the planes that landed here. It didn’t matter where I went, but first, I needed money.

  During morning break, I went to the bank next door to obtain a funds transfer from my San Diego account. After I completed the paperwork, the bank teller said I could pick up the money in a couple of hours. Leaving the building, I grabbed a charge card application, just in case someone saw me going in or out.

  Around noon my cell phone rang. I glanced at the number. “Hello, Brett.”

  “Are you ready for lunch?”

  “Yes. I’ll meet you out front in ten minutes.”

  We walked to a small cozy Italian restaurant two blocks from my office. When we finished eating, I pulled the application out of my purse. “I want to buy some shoes online. I need to have a credit card so I thought I’d apply for one.”

  “It might take a month or so before you get the card. If you want to shop online, you can use my card.”

  “I wouldn’t feel right about that. I guess I’ll just have to be content to buy from Sherman’s.” The last time I shopped there sprang into my mind, and I smiled and added, “Maybe I can win another door prize.”

  The accounting firm’s receptionist motioned to me as I returned to work. “Sara, Ralph from the hotel dropped these off for you,” she said, handing me some messages.

  “Thanks.”

  Sitting at my desk, I went through them. One was from Lieutenant Barnes, one from Sherman’s, and the final one from a newspaper reporter. I called Barnes.

  “Miss Jones, I tried to reach you at the Towne Hotel. Ralph Miller informed me that you had moved out. Can you give me the address where you’re currently staying?”

  “I’m staying at a friend’s house. I don’t know the exact address. You can always reach me on my cell phone or at work.” I proceeded to give him my phone number.

  “For our records, I need your address,” he insisted.

  “I’ll get it tonight and give you a call tomorrow.”

  “If I’m not in the office, just leave the address on my voice mail.”

  After our conversation ended, I called Sherman’s and I was transferred to an employee in customer relations.

  “The prize we sent you for being our 100,000th customer was returned and stamped ‘no forwarding address,’” the employee said. “Can you give me your current address?”

  “I received your prize, a ring.”

  “Miss Jones, your prize wasn’t a ring. It’s a year’s supply of bath oils. You’ll receive a new collection every month.”

  “You didn’t send a ring?”

  “No. Can I please have your address?”

  “I don’t know the exact address. I’ll get it and give you a call tomorrow.”

  “Thank you. Ask for Jane Larsen when you call.”

  “I will.” I hung up and stared at the ring. Who sent it? Conner didn’t know where I was until the spider and missing persons’ story appeared on the national news. I slipped the ring off my finger to look inside the band for markings. A sharp pain shot through my right arm, all the way up to my elbow. It was most intense in my knuckles. My hand tingled. My fingers curved in like a claw. I tried to straighten them. The pain intensified into a piercing burn. I put the ring back on, my knuckles relaxed. The pain abruptly ended. I wiggled my fingers. Strange. I’d taken the ring off before and didn’t have this type of reaction. Maybe I hit a nerve in my hand.

  I studied the ring a few minutes. Then I reached for the phone and called John Davis, the newspaper reporter.

  “Mr. Davis, this is Sara Jones, returning your call.”

  “Miss Jones, I’m a reporter for the Washington Times. Since you were with the first Billings’ spider victim, Nancy Stewart, I would like an opportunity to interview you regarding your recollection of that event.”

  “Mr. Davis—”

  He interrupted, “Please call me John.”

  “Okay, John. I’ve already told the police everything I remember about the incident. I’m sure Lieutenant Barnes could fill you in on anything you’d like to know.”

  “I’ve already made arrangements to interview Lieutenant Barnes. My readers would also like to hear from you.”

  “Let me think about it.”

  “I’m flying to Billings this evening. Can I give you a call tomorrow?”

  “It’s better if I call you. Can I reach you at this number?”

  “Yes.”

  Hanging up, I thought no way would I consent to be interviewed. Since he had called the hotel, he probably didn’t know where I worked. Maybe I’d be gone before he tried reaching me again. Ralph was so kind and helpful, he wouldn’t hesitate telling him where he could find me.

  At 3 p.m., I picked up the money. Leaving the bank, I saw the dark-eyed man and the hair on the back of my neck rose. I knew he was watching me, but why? As soon as I sat down at my desk, I placed the money in the top drawer. I thought it would be safer there than in my purse. I planned on leaving Billings after Brett dropped me off the next day. That way, I’d have an eight-hour head start before he realized I was gone. That wasn’t how I wanted to leave him. We had been good friends for almost two months. Still, I suspected he was somehow involved with the people in the woods. From everything I had seen, I now believed the group was a cult. The killing and mutilation was probably their ritual. None of it made any sense to me.

  I wished I could go to the police about what I knew. If I did, they’d go to the clearing to check it out and maybe run into some of the people. Then the cult would know I had seen them. Most important, the police couldn’t defend themselves against the spiders. I didn’t want anyone else to die because of me.

  Brett was parked next to the curb when I left the building. He held my hand as we drove away. “How was the rest of your day?”

  “You were right about the credit card. I went to the bank and talked to the manager. She said after I completed the application, it could take up to four weeks for approval before they issued the card.”

  “I told you, you can use mine.”

  “No. I can’t lean on you whenever I need something.”

  “Why not?”

  “I like my independence. By the way, Lieutenant Barnes called me. He knows I’ve moved out of the hotel, and he wants my new address.”

  “I’ll take care of it. How did you enjoy the wine last night?”

  “I don’t think dinner agreed very well with me. Spicy food sometimes does that. The wine didn’t stay down. I still liked it. It tasted good. I can’t even guess what it was.”

  His features lined with concern, and he asked, “Did you feel okay today?”

  “Yes. I was only sick for a short time last night. I felt fine when I went down to the den.”

  “I had planned on picking up a piz
za on the way to Rex’s place. Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

  “Pizza never gives me any problems. I think that’s a great idea.” I took a deep breath and ran my tongue across my lip as though I could already taste Italian sauce. Pizza was one of my favorite foods. I’d eat it even if I really was sick.

  We drank beer with the pizza and watched football. When the game ended, we each got a book out of the den, sat on the couch, and began reading. After only a few minutes, I felt edgy as my pulse quickened and my breathing became uneven. Looking up, I met Brett’s eyes and wanted him.

  He gave me a sensual smile. “Should we go to bed?”

  I dipped my head rapidly in overzealous agreement.

  After we climbed into bed, an uncontrollable sexual craving consumed my body as I snuggled close to him. For a brief moment, I wondered how much he knew about the spider cult. Did he know what they did in the clearing? My desire for him didn’t allow me to speculate long. He lightly stroked my arm as he eased above me. He made love to me and I stopped thinking about anything else. Afterwards, I laid my head on his shoulder and dozed off.

  I awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside and saw Brett rummaging through my purse. He took something out and slid it under the cushion of the chair that stood in the corner. I wanted to yell at him, but I didn’t want to raise any suspicion. I closed my eyes, pretended to sleep, and felt him ease under the covers. He brushed my hair away from my face and kissed my cheek.

  I opened my eyes. “Good morning,” I said and forced a smile.

  “How did you sleep last night?”

  “Great.” Now I knew without a doubt he was up to something. Could he be a cult member? Last night, I thought Brett had seemed so loving and tender. I even had the urge to tell him about what I had seen. But when I opened my mouth to spit it out, a spasm in the pit of my stomach stopped me.

  He went to his room to get ready for work. I took a shower and dressed. After I slipped on my shoes, I peeked under the chair cushion and saw my driver’s license. I couldn’t leave town without it. Yet, I didn’t dare take it since he might try to get it before we left; if he discovered it was missing, I’d be watched more closely. Then, my chances of getting away would probably be nil. Feeling disappointed I wouldn’t be able to leave today, I headed downstairs. At work, I would call and find out how to get a duplicate license.

  Brett never went back upstairs. As we pulled out of the driveway, I wished I had taken my driver’s license. We had only driven about a block when he pulled over to the side of the road.

  “I forgot my notes,” he said, making a U-turn.

  I waited in the car while he went inside, probably to get my driver’s license.

  “Got it,” he said, climbing back into the driver’s seat. “I’ll still get you to work on time.” He sped out the driveway and drove a different way again. From all our trips in and out of town, I had only been able to determine that Rex’s place was northeast of Billings in a sparsely populated area.

  Shortly after I arrived at work, I called the Division of Motor Vehicles. I was told to go there. They’d issue a replacement license while I waited. The DMV was a mile from my office, an easy walk. I feared someone in the spider cult might follow me if they were lurking about. How could I dodge them?

  While I ate lunch at my desk, Marsha, a co-worker, came into my office.

  “Sara, here’s the rest of the Kinsman report,” she said, putting an expandable file on my desk. “I’m leaving. Bobby, my four-year-old, is sick. I have to go and pick him up at daycare.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. Is it anything serious?”

  “Probably just a cold. He’s coughing and running a temperature, so the daycare doesn’t want the other children exposed. That’s the rule.”

  I knew she had a parking spot in the garage under the building. “Marsha, I lost my driver’s license. Would you mind dropping me off at the DMV on your way?”

  “Not at all. I drive right past it, but we have to go now.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “Let me shut down my computer. I’ll meet you by the elevator.”

  As Marsha drove out of the garage, I tipped over my purse. “Clumsy me. I do that all the time.” I bent down and gathered up everything, making sure to remain out of view from any potential spectators.

  “I spilled my purse in the car a couple of weeks ago. It took me days to find all the stuff. Every time I went around a corner, something else rolled out from under the seat.”

  I sat up straight. “I think I got everything. How many children do you have?”

  “Three. Three boys. Bobby is the youngest. Have you found an apartment yet?”

  “No.”

  “You aren’t still staying at that hotel, are you?”

  “No. I’m staying at a friend’s house.”

  “Spiders. I just can’t imagine how you could have stayed there one night after that woman was bitten in your room. After we heard about the other victims, my husband had an exterminator come to the house. He sprayed every nook and cranny. Have the police given you any updates that haven’t been on the news?”

  “There isn’t anything new. They’re still working on locating the paramedics.”

  She stopped in front of the DMV. “It must be awful for the victims’ families not knowing anymore.”

  “The police are checking every lead. Thanks for the ride,” I said, getting out of the car. “I hope Bobby gets well soon.”

  “I’m sure after the weekend he’ll be fine. See you on Monday.”

  “Bye.” I walked toward the entrance as Marsha drove away.

  Within an hour, I had my duplicate license. Meandering back and forth on several streets on the way back to the office, I passed Sherman’s and decided to buy a pair of shoes. That way I would be returning to work with a package. A cover story for Brett and anyone else who knew I had left the office.

  7

  A Friend Arrives

  Entering the office building, I did a double take, thinking I saw Lindsey, a lady I met on the bus to Billings. When she boarded in Nebraska, her unusual eggplant color hair and dramatic eye makeup caused me to look up and maybe stare longer than a polite moment. My look must have been welcoming, because although several seats were vacant, she sat next to me. We began chatting and learned we were about the same age, we both enjoyed reading Agatha Christie and Lee Child novels, watching James Bond and sci-fi movies, and listening to tunes from the 1960s and 70s. By the time the bus stopped in Billings, we were good friends. Lindsey stayed on the bus to go to Oregon. We hadn’t spoken or seen each other since then.

  “Hello, Sara.” She walked toward me with open arms, and wrapped me in a tight hug. Her former odd hair color had been changed to a light golden brown.

  “Lindsey, I like your new hair style and shade, but almost didn’t recognize you. Didn’t you go to Portland?”

  “Thanks.” She pulled her hair behind one ear. “I’m going au natural with hair until the mood strikes me to change it again. I did go on to Oregon, but things just didn’t work out like I’d hoped.” She shuffled her feet and her voice wavered a bit. “I liked your idea of living in a small-to-medium-sized town, so I came back to Billings.”

  I suspected things went awry for her, but didn’t want to snoop. “So, how did you find me?”

  “Saw you on the national news. That’s how I knew where you were staying.”

  Even though I was glad Lindsey had found me, I couldn’t prevent a cold shiver creeping up my spine as I thought about my face splashed on television screens across the country had made it impossible for me to stay hidden from anyone.

  Lindsey continued, “I had to talk the hotel clerk—I think his name is Ralph—into telling me where you worked. I told him I was your sister. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Lindsey and I were about the same size. She had pale blue eyes and her hair color was a few shades lighter than mine. Outside that, I could understand why Ralph would believe we were sisters.
/>   “No. I’m happy to see you,” I said, thinking how nice it was to have a friend around who wasn’t connected to the Crussett family or to that cult.

  “I went to your office. The receptionist told me you weren’t there. She thought you’d be back soon. So, I’ve been hanging around in the lobby.”

  “I’m glad you waited. Where are you staying?”

  “The hotel clerk said you had checked out. I was hoping I could stay at the same hotel, motel, wherever you’re staying. The clerk’s keeping an eye on my luggage until I get back.”

  Brett strolled into the lobby. “Where have you been?” he asked, sounding irritated. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He glanced at Lindsey.

  “Lindsey, I’d like you to meet Brett Daborel,” I said. “Brett, this is my friend, Lindsey Farrington. I met her on the bus when I was traveling to Billings.”

  “I’m happy to make your acquaintance, Lindsey.” Brett shook Lindsey’s hand. “Do you work in this building?”

  “No,” she answered. “I just got in town.”

  Brett looked at me. “Didn’t you say you two met on the bus coming to Billings?”

  “Yes. Lindsey was on her way to Portland and I stayed here.”

  “I came back to Billings,” Lindsey clarified. “I’m hoping to stay longer than I did in Portland. Right now, I’m looking for a place to stay. Sara, where are you staying now?”

  “At Brett’s friend’s place. I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay at the Towne Hotel. You know, there could still be some poisonous spiders there. The Cyprus Inn is down the street. I’ve heard it’s super nice and they have weekly rates.”

  “Lindsey, my friend’s house has five bedrooms,” Brett interjected. “Why don’t you stay with us for the weekend? Then you can look for another place next week.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t impose on you like that,” she replied.

  “It wouldn’t be an imposition. I have to go back to work tonight. You two could catch up on things.”