Dead and Gone

by Tina Glasneck

“Maybe I should go to San Diego for the rest of the week so you can deal with your work. The police can talk to me there.”

  He embraced me. “No. No. I want you here.” He raised my chin and smiled. “So I can wake up to those gorgeous brown eyes.” He bent down and kissed me. “I need to get back.”

  Darcy was rinsing a stack of plates and loading the dishwasher. It appeared a large group had eaten here.

  “Darcy, do you know what happened?” I asked, pouring coffee.

  “Not much. It has something to do with a ship, enemy attack, DVDs, police, and lost cargo.”

  “Police … Have they been here?”

  “No, but I think someone might have been arrested.”

  “Anyone in Conner’s family?”

  “No.”

  Now I suspected the Crussetts didn’t own the ship or the building on Empire Street. I had assumed they did. I should have known they’d be too smart for that. Sadly, I sat down thinking everyone in the compound would probably go unscathed. At least the girls escaped and were free. I smiled to myself.

  Voices occasionally rang out. I was only able to catch a few words as I ate. Not enough to know their plans. There was no place I could go to listen without being seen. I needed to know everything they had discovered. An idea flashed into my mind. I changed into a two-piece, pink bikini and headed to the swimming pool.

  Outside, I inched a lounge chair closer to the dining room patio door. I went in through that door, got a bottle of water, and returned to the pool, leaving the door ajar.

  Reclining on my back, I closed my eyes and listened.

  “There’s got … someone,” I heard Conner say.

  “Sharpshooters, yes … that, no one,” Art said.

  “Let’s move on,” Jack Shelton said.

  “What do you want the boys to do?” the unidentified man said with a low-pitched, tenor voice.

  “Track down the caller…wait,” Conner said. “…the fingerprints turn up.”

  Holding my breath, I raised my hands. Fingerprints. They’re all over the ship. I inhaled deeply since I had never been fingerprinted. No one has them. I mulled over all my moves last night, hoping I hadn’t left anything besides my fingerprints behind that would lead them to me.

  Shuffling of feet drowned out the voices. “Later,” Conner said as I heard a door closing.

  I scooted the lounge chair away from the patio door. I stretched out on it again and closed my eyes.

  “You look relaxed,” Conner said. I raised my eyelids. “I’d like to join you, but Barnes will be here soon.”

  “I better get dressed,” I said, standing up. “Is he going to talk to both of us?”

  “Probably just you.”

  28

  Incrimination

  Darcy showed Barnes and Harmon into the den where Conner and I were waiting. We greeted each other and briefly discussed my treatment.

  Barnes’ eyes became fixed on Conner. “We’d like to talk to Miss Jones alone,” he said.

  Conner stood and gently squeezed my arm. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

  I nodded as he walked out.

  “Miss Jones, we’re here to ask you some questions about the spider-related deaths,” Barnes said, pulling a tape recorder out of his briefcase. “We had planned on discussing this with you at the local police station, but they were limited on space.” He moved his hand towards the recorder button. “Do you mind?”

  I shook my head. “Have you located the paramedics?”

  “No.” He curled the ends of his handlebar mustache. “Based on some of the victims’ affiliations, we’re examining other angles.”

  “Conner mentioned that the bicycle victim worked for his family’s business, the missing husband and wife were drug dealers, and somehow you thought he was involved.”

  Barnes’ continued to fiddle with his mustache as his forehead creased and he looked at Harmon. “That isn’t what we told Mr. Crussett.” He scribbled on a notepad. “Potential evidence was found in Mr. and Mrs. Kessler’s room that suggested they might have a connection with Mr. Braydon, the bicycle victim. That evidence was not disclosed.”

  “Maybe he read it somewhere.”

  Barnes drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “There haven’t been any additional spider victims in Billings since you left with Mr. Crussett. You and Saul Fazio were bitten in Houston. We’re working with the Houston police force to determine if there’s a connection. Currently, the common link appears to be Conner Crussett. What is your relationship with him?”

  “I’m his girlfriend. We’ve been together for almost three years.”

  “Were you working for him while you were in Billings?”

  “No. I was working for the accounting firm. You know that.”

  “As a key witness in our investigation, you abruptly left with Mr. Crussett without giving notice at your place of employment or contacting us. Explain.”

  “I was afraid. I just wanted to get away.”

  “Why were you afraid?”

  “Spiders. I found them in my room at the hotel twice after Nancy was bitten. Three times in my car. It was awful.” Trying to appear convincing, I fidgeted with my hands and my lips quivered. “You couldn’t protect me. I had to leave.”

  “Do you think someone was targeting you?”

  I bobbed my head, raised my index finger to my lips, walked over, and flipped off the recorder. “Is it possible we could finish this interview in your police car?” I whispered.

  Barnes gave me a puzzled look while he stroked his mustache. “Of course. We came in a police van, equipped for discussions.”

  “Conner will ask why.”

  “I can handle that,” Barnes said, heading toward the door. He opened it and stepped aside. I walked out of the room first. Barnes and Harmon followed me to the front door.

  Conner came into the hallway. “Already finished?”

  “The recorder is broken,” Barnes said. “There’s a recording system hooked up in the van. We’ll finish the interview there.”

  “Can’t you finish the interview another day?” Conner asked.

  “We’re already here,” Barnes said. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

  Barnes, Harmon, and I went to the police van while Conner stood on the porch next to a security guard and watched. Harmon opened the vehicle’s sliding door. We climbed in.

  The back of the van had a short couch, three swivel chairs, and surveillance equipment along the two outer walls. The only window was the one in the back door. Barnes motioned for me to sit on the couch. He and Harmon sat down on chairs. Barnes pulled down a panel, releasing a table, and lowered it between them and me.

  “Let’s go on,” Barnes said, turning on the tape recorder. “Do you think someone was trying to injure you with the spiders?”

  “Please,” I said, flipping off the recorder.

  Barnes ran a finger over his mustache as he took out his notepad.

  I began, “I thought it was Cameron, Conner’s brother. Now I don’t know.” I shook my head and bit my bottom lip. I pulled a small, black, ovoid-shaped container covered with pin-like holes out of my pocket. “I found this in Conner’s glove compartment.”

  Barnes reached for it while Harmon was busy writing.

  “It has spiders inside,” I said, giving it to him.

  “When you opened it up, how did you prevent them from escaping?”

  “Because of the holes, I suspected it might hold spiders. I captured three flies. Carefully, I lifted the lid and shoved them inside after I saw the spiders. There are at least four in the container. Don’t let them die or you won’t be able to verify they’re the same type of spiders responsible for the deaths.”

  “How do you know that?” Barnes asked, suspiciously.

  “Her parents were arachnologists,” Harmon explained.

  “Right,” Barnes said, gingerly putting the container in a compartment in his briefcase. “You suspect Conner Crussett wants to harm you?�
�

  I lowered my head and cradled my face in the palms of my hands. “I’m so confused. If he wanted me dead, he’s had opportunities. No. He’d never hurt me. His nephew, Caden, Cameron’s son, sometimes drives his car. Maybe he put them there.”

  “Earlier you said, you thought Cameron Crussett was after you. Why?”

  “Do you know anything about the Crussetts’ real business?” I asked.

  “Some things.”

  “They’re corrupt. Cameron thought I had information about the business that I was going to expose.”

  Barnes began curling the ends of his mustache again. “Did you?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Taking that kind of stuff would be a death wish. Cameron just hated me. I don’t know why. Saul Fazio, his employee, was taking me to the airport when I was bitten. He probably hadn’t planned on Saul being a victim, but spiders can’t be controlled. Cameron was responsible for the death of my friend, Paula Sorensen.”

  “How did she die?”

  When I finished telling them everything I knew about Paula’s death, I said, “I confronted Cameron about it when he came to see me in the hospital. He confirmed my suspicion and my body went into shock. Every inched throbbed with pain. You can check that out with the hospital staff. After that, he was no longer allowed to visit.”

  “Why didn’t you report it to the police?”

  “I planned on doing that after I was well. Now it’s too late.”

  “Does Conner Crussett know his brother tried to kill you?”

  “I told him everything I’m telling you. He thinks I’m paranoid or something. He doesn’t believe his brother would go after me.”

  “Why do you stay with Mr. Crussett?”

  “I love Conner. He needs me, especially after the loss of his brother.” I watched Barnes and Harmon glance at each other. Barnes’ forehead creased. Harmon’s eyebrows bounced and he lightly shook his head. I kept a solemn expression on my face.

  “Miss Jones, I think you should come with us for your protection,” Barnes said.

  “No. I’m staying with Conner until I go back to North Dakota for treatments.

  “When is that?”

  “In four days.”

  Barnes put his notepad and the recorder in his briefcase. “We’ll want to talk to you again after we check on a few things. During your treatment, can you have visitors?”

  “Yes.”

  Barnes handed me a business card. “Call if you need anything or would like us to pick you up.”

  I nodded, slipping it in my pocket.

  Harmon opened the van sliding door. We all stepped out.

  “Thank you for your cooperation,” Barnes said, shaking my hand.

  After I shook Harmon’s hand, I headed toward the house, feeling good.

  “How did it go?” Conner asked, leading me to the couch.

  “Okay. They just asked questions about why I left Billings in a hurry and my relationship with you. That was all.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I left because I was afraid of the spiders and the police couldn’t protect me against them. And I was your girlfriend. Stuff like that.”

  “Good. I feel beat. I’m going to lie down until my father calls.”

  “For another meeting?”

  “Yes. After he’s talked to Viltro.” Then he smiled. “Do you want to take a nap with me?”

  “Will you get any sleep that way?”

  “Probably not. I’ll make up for it when you’re gone.” He pulled me closer, kissed the tip of my nose, and held my hand as we went upstairs.

  When Conner finally dozed off, I slowly climbed out of bed, dressed, and headed for the den. I opened his top desk drawer and took out a folder he had hurriedly slipped in it right before Barnes and Harmon entered. I also picked up the spider cult investigator’s report and sat down. Skimming through the folder, I read that a dock worker saw a woman with long hair wearing a black jogging suit put on a ski mask and go over to the ship. He didn’t see her go up the gangplank. The man wasn’t sure about her hair color since it was dark. He doubted it was blonde. I wondered where he was when he spotted me. One of the buildings had two floors. Maybe he was on the second floor, looking out a window. I felt a spasm of panic, thinking the man might be able to identify me. I briefly closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and sensed my pulse slowing down.

  I turned the page and learned the ship was owned by a company, Ellsworth and Son. George Ellsworth had been arrested. Next to his name were five dollar signs. Below that was a round punctured hole that went through the pad. It appeared it was caused by a sharp object being thrust down, maybe a pen.

  A loud thud came from the direction of the hallway. I leapt to my feet, put the folder back in the desk drawer, and eased the door open while I held the investigation report. Darcy rushed past me toward the entrance door. “What was that?”

  “Someone at the door,” she said, opening it.

  Peeking out, I saw Tyler, a muscular brut with a square jaw, wide flat nose, and deep hard eyes, encompassed in an almost freakishly tall frame I guessed to be at least seven-foot. Another of Cedric’s ogre size employees, necessary to handle ferocious tasks.

  “Mr. Crussett wants to see Conner, now,” Tyler growled.

  I threw the report down on the chair and ran up the stairs. “Conner,” I said, shaking his shoulder. “Your dad sent Tyler to get you. Something’s wrong. Whatever Viltro told him, he must have believed it.” My hands trembled as I worried if they had discovered anything about what happened in the morgue. Would Conner protect me?

  Sitting up, he held onto my arms. “Relax. I had nothing to do with Cameron’s death. I’m not guilty of anything.”

  Only through his twisted, entitled sense of logic could that sentence be accurate. “But Tyler...”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it,” he said, slipping on his clothes. He smiled. “Was he carrying a noose?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head.

  “See? I’m not going to be strung up without a hearing.” He sat down and put on his shoes. “I need to go.” He gently kissed me, and then he hurried down the stairs.

  Wanting to read more about the problems the night before, I headed back to the den. On page three in the folder were notes about the girls. None of them had suffered any serious physical injuries. Some would need psychiatric care. The girls’ description of their rescuer: a woman wearing lightweight sweats and a ski mask over her head, five-foot-seven, eight or nine, slender, a sweet voice. She fought all of the men single handedly. She was a skilled marksman, a knife thrower, and could beat the crap out of anyone. I smiled, thinking I didn’t have a gun, knife, or the skills to use them, and my fighting ability was limited. At the same time I didn’t need to worry about self-preservation. One girl said I was just like Lara Croft in Tomb Raider.

  On the following page Conner’s handwriting became so sloppy I couldn’t make out some of his comments. There were a few names I was able to decipher: Lewis, Genaro, Zeth, and Thurman, with a question mark next to each. Those names I recognized from documents I had copied the day before. I wondered if they were under suspicion. At the bottom of the page “FINGERPRINTS!” were scribbled four times. Nothing else was written in the notepad. I then realized that my own fingerprints were all over the page. I grabbed a handful of tissues and began wiping the sheets. A wave of fear shot through me when I noticed I was smearing the ink. I threw the folder back in the drawer, closed it, and hoped Conner would believe he was responsible for the smudges.

  Inhaling deeply, I sat quietly trying to think of all the different scenarios I could use to take care of the Crussett business. I couldn’t get past the “What if?” question as I worried what was going on at Cedric’s house—Viltro’s information. Were they talking about me? And worse, did they suspect Brett, Lindsey, and Father were involved?

  At 8 p.m., Darcy peered in. “Aren’t you going to have any dinner?”

  “I didn’t realize
it was that late. I was waiting for Conner.”

  “From all the commotion that’s been going on, he could be awhile. He might have already eaten at his father’s house.”

  “I know. Are guards still going in and out of the house?”

  “No. Two have been taking turns walking around the outside.”

  I thought food might help calm me down. “Thanks, Darcy. I’ll eat in the kitchen,” I said, rising from the chair.

  After dinner, I got a book and went upstairs. I sat in the corner armchair with my feet tucked beneath me and attempted to read. I couldn’t concentrate and gave up.

  I took my time getting ready for bed, anxious about what Viltro had to say. Just after eleven, I climbed in bed, alone. Unable to relax, I tossed and turned searching for a comfortable position.

  About an hour later, I heard the door open. I knew it was Conner when the bathroom water faucet turned on. I lay in bed, pretending to sleep. I didn’t want Conner to think I was concerned about what Viltro might have offered.

  He slipped under the covers, raised my hair, and kissed the back of my neck. I felt his warm breath on my cheek and turned toward him. He pulled me tight against his body. My worries vanished, and I believed I was safe.

  29

  The Warehouse

  Lying in bed, I watched a bird on the window ledge as Conner showered. I sensed something was wrong. The night before we had made love. His touch felt slightly different, a certain tenderness was missing. Yet, he held me closer. In the darkness I glanced into his eyes. They were cloudy, not glowing, like they had always been previously. Was my imagination working overtime, or had Viltro stumbled upon the truth?

  “I’ve made arrangements for us to spend the whole day together,” Conner said, getting dressed in a polo shirt and casual slacks. “I’m going to check on a few things while you get ready.”

  “Are we going someplace?”

  “Yes. I’ve kept you cooped up here long enough. You’ll like where we’re going.”

  “And where is that?”