An August Harvest

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An August Harvest Page 22

by Ben Marney


  She stood up and pulled out a chair. “Sit. I’ll get the beer.”

  When she returned she had two beers in her hand. “You are going to have to open them.” She handed me the bottles, sat down across from me and gave me a wide smile. “I like beer, wine and on special occasions, a little tequila. But my favorite is Jack Daniels.”

  I started laughing. “What’s so funny?” She asked.

  “One more thing,” I said, sipping my beer.

  “One more thing?” she asked. “What’s that mean?”

  “It’s just one more thing I love about you.” The minute those words left my mouth, I realized where I’d heard those words before.

  Annabelle sensed my instant mood change. “What’s wrong?”

  “That was something Melissa said to me once. I can’t remember what I had done, but she said it was just one more thing she loved about me.”

  Her face dropped and she looked down at the table. “Where is she, Grant? And where’s Molly? We have to find them.”

  I reached across the table and took her hand. “I promise you I’m going to. Somehow...I’m going to track them down and bring them home. I swear I will.”

  For the next hour, we sat there silently, thinking about Melissa and Molly.

  “What did you mean earlier?” she asked. “You said something about not knowing what I thought about you now?”

  I stood up. “Are you hungry? I’m starving?” I slid open the door and walked to the kitchen.

  She followed me. “Grant, what did you mean? Why did you say that?”

  I leaned against the bar, looked at her and shrugged. “You really don’t know?”

  “No, I really don’t.”

  “Annabelle, you don’t know my story. Not the whole story. Actually, we’ve never had the chance to get to know each other much at all. I know you think you know me, but you really don’t. How could you?” I opened the refrigerator and pulled out another beer. “You want another one?”

  “Maybe later.”

  I twisted off the cap and took a sip, “Did you know about the plane crash, about my wife and Audrey?”

  “Yes, Melissa told me about it.”

  “Did she tell you that I was flying the plane?”

  “Yes, I knew that.”

  “But you didn’t know that some people suspected me of crashing that plane on purpose, did you? You didn’t know it, because I’ve never told anyone about that, not even Melissa.”

  “No, I didn’t know that,” she said softly, “but I know you. And I know you a lot better than you think I do. What do you think Melissa and I have been talking about all these months? We’ve been talking about you. Melissa wanted me to know everything.” She walked around the bar and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Grant, I may not know every detail of your life, but I know enough to know that you couldn’t have done that. You may not love me, but nothing has changed for me.”

  I couldn’t find anything to cook, so we ordered a pizza and brownies, and devoured every slice and half of the brownies on the back deck.

  “Pizza, beer and brownies,” I said with a chuckle, “You are definitely my kind of girl.”

  She smiled at me, but not with her eyes, only her lips. “That’s what I keep trying to tell you.”

  When Annabelle left that night, I tried my best to sleep, but I couldn’t. My mind kept coming up with horrible scenarios of what Jerry was doing or had already done. I kept asking myself why would he do such a stupid thing? Jerry was lazy, greedy, arrogant, but he wasn’t stupid. He did try to kill her before, but he did it because of her money. He had to know he couldn’t get to it now, so why would he do this? What could he possibly gain? It made no sense.

  I got out of bed, slipped on my jeans and headed to the beach. Walking barefoot with Charley and Donna by my side, I strolled down the sand, along the shore talking to myself and Charley.

  “Charley, the cops think they’re dead, but they’re still alive, aren’t they?”

  “Woof,” he barked.

  “Yeah, I think so, too. Do you have any idea where they are?”

  He lifted his eyes and gave me a sad look.

  “Why on earth would he do this? He has to know he’ll get caught. Is it just for revenge?” Charley snorted.

  “It has to be about the money! That’s all he’s ever cared about.”

  “Woof.”

  I stopped walking and looked down at him. “Do you think that’s it, too? It’s all about the money?”

  “Woof, woof,” he barked and spun around.

  “But Charley, she changed her will. If he kills her, he won’t get anything and he’ll go to jail!”

  I sat down on the sand and looked him in the eyes. “Why would he do this, kidnap her, risk going to jail just to get her money? He’s a smart guy, Charley. He took them for a reason.”

  He lifted his eyes and growled. “I don’t know what he’s trying to do, but I promise you I’m going to find out and somehow, I’m going to stop him, or die trying.

  Hiding in the dark, behind the tall sea oats in the berm, Detective Anastasia Reynolds froze, holding her breath as Grant Nash walked by. One of the two dogs he was walking with, broke away and ran up to her. “Woof,” he barked.

  “Go away,” she whispered. “Get out of here!”

  The dog didn’t move. “Woof, Woof,” he barked again.

  “Charley!” She heard Grant yell. “Come on!”

  The dog moved closer and looked at her. Then he lifted his lip, exposing his long, sharp, white teeth. “Woof,” he barked, then turned and ran away.

  Her entire body was shaking and she was breathing hard, gasping for air. After she calmed down and caught her breath, she stood and slowly walked down the beach. A few hundred yards away, she could see them walking in front of her, highlighted in the moonlight. She followed them, but kept her distance.

  When she got back to her car, she dug in her purse, pulled out a cigarette and lit it with her shaking hand. It was only her fourth one for the day, but as she drew in her first drag, she knew that as soon as that one was out, she would light up another one. She would quit again tomorrow.

  That was too close. She’d almost gotten caught, or worse, attacked by a big dog. She wondered what would have been worse, getting caught or bitten? She smiled, thinking about it. If she’d gotten caught and her captain found out what she’d been doing, his bite would have hurt a lot more.

  Even her partner didn’t know what she was up to. She didn’t tell him, because she knew what he would have said. Johnson was a good cop, but a little too by the book for her tastes. He wouldn’t even bend a rule, let alone break one. No, this was something she had to do alone. And besides, what she did in her off time was her business...sort of. Yes, it was an official case and what she was doing could be considered by some asshole lawyer as police harassment, but only if she got caught. Putting an unofficial tail on him wasn’t the problem, but eavesdropping and listening to his conversations might be. She wasn’t sure about the exact constitutional right she might be breaking, but at this point she didn’t care. The assistant district attorney told them that they only had forty-eight hours to dig something up, and that was fourteen hours ago. Of course, this wasn’t the first time she’d done something like this on a case, but it was the first time what she had discovered in the process made her have to back up and rethink everything.

  When her surveillance had began that afternoon, she was absolutely convinced she was right about Grant Nash. Detective Johnson, her partner wasn’t so sure, but there was no question in her mind that he was guilty. Her suspicions started with her first impression of him standing there at the crime scene pretending to be concerned, hugging on that young girl at the same time. And it wasn’t just some young girl. She remembered thinking that she was probably a stripper with a body like that. Maybe eighteen or nineteen, twenty at the most. When she found out she was twenty-four with a college degree, it was a bit shocking, but it didn’t change her mind about him at all,
because...she was his, quote unquote, assistant. Right, sure she was. Then she did a little digging into his background and it became obvious to her. All she had to do was add up the facts. What were the odds of lightening striking twice in less than two years to the same guy? How unlucky could one person be?

  His wife and child are killed in a mysterious plane crash that none of the experts can explain. A plane that he was flying...a plane he crashed in such a perfect position that killed everyone else, but he was barely hurt? Six million dollars later, here he is again, kissing his bombshell assistant on the same night his girlfriend and daughter wind up mysteriously missing. And if they are located somewhere and, God forbid, they are found dead, guess who’s the beneficiary of their multimillion-dollar estate...Grant Nash. What a coincidence.

  In her mind, Grant was either cursed with incredibly bad luck, or he was a very smart, greedy serial killer. Unfortunately, they had nothing on him but that theory, no real evidence, just her gut feelings and her years of busting scumbags just like him. So when the assistant district attorney told them they only had forty-eight hours to find something, she knew what she had to do.

  Earlier in the day, when she had parked her car and walked the two blocks over to his house, she had assumed it would be empty and had almost gotten caught placing the bug under the patio table when she found out it wasn’t. She was under the table placing the bug when Annabelle slid the glass door open and walked out on the deck. Under the table, she could see Annabelle’s bare feet and legs as she walked up and leaned against the rail. She froze and held her breath. Then a phone rang in the house and Annabelle ran back inside. As quietly as she could, she crawled out from under the table, backed down the stairs and ran to her car.

  When she got back to her car, she turned on the receiver and put on her earphones to check the signal she was getting from the bug. She couldn’t hear anything but the sound of the crashing waves of the ocean, but figured if she could hear that, she’d be able to hear them talking when they were sitting around the patio table. She had planned on placing three more bugs inside the house, but with Annabelle staying there, that was out. As it turned out, the one bug would be all she needed. She remembered smiling when she first heard the ocean sounds coming through her headphones. “I’m gonna get you, you son of a bitch,” she had said out loud. “You just wait and see.”

  That was her big plan. But now, ten hours later, sitting in her car, watching the sun come up, thinking about all she had heard...she realized that she had been wrong about Grant Nash. He was an innocent man, just trying to live through his unbelievable misfortunes.

  The big question now was, what could she do to help him?

  23

  Everyone You have Ever Loved

  When his phone began to ring, Detective Mark Johnson groaned and rolled over on his back. He opened his eyes and tried to focus on the small digital clock sitting on his night table. “5:45?” He grumbled. “Hello?”

  His sleepy voice crackled in her ear. “Did I wake you up?”

  “Of course not, Detective Reynolds,” he growled, “I was just sitting here, drinking my morning coffee and enjoying the sunrise. Anastasia, what the hell are you calling me about this early? It’s five fucking thirty!”

  “Actually, it’s five fucking forty-eight,” she said in a cheerful voice, “and I’m calling you about the Nash case.”

  “Hold on,” he said, sitting up, pulling back the covers, “let me get up. I don’t know what you’ve been up to, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna need some coffee to hear about it.”

  She laughed. “That might be a good idea. This is pretty big news.”

  “Oh shit!” he snorted, getting to his feet. “What in the hell have you done now?”

  Looking out at the heavy downtown morning traffic through the passenger window, Melissa counted on her fingers. It was the sixth day she had not taken the critical medication that helped prevent her body from rejecting her transplanted liver. She wondered how long it would take before the rejection process would begin. Would she be able to tell? Would she feel it?

  At 9:00 am Jerry pulled up to the curb in front of the bank and stopped. He held up the knife in front of her face and pushed the button. The sharp stainless steal blade popped out of the handle. “If I see one cop, one patrol car...she’s dead.” His dark, cold eyes pierced hers. “Understand?”

  She nodded and turned her head, looking in the back seat into Molly’s frightened eyes. “Don’t be afraid, everything will be okay soon.”

  “I’m going to do exactly what you asked,” she said, glaring at him. “Please don’t hurt her.” She clutched the handle of the briefcase and opened the door. “I have no idea how long this will take, so please don’t panic if it takes a while. I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

  Inside of the Jacksonville branch of the Chase Manhattan bank, she nervously fiddled with the latch on the briefcase while the bank president read the instructions.

  When he finished reading her note, he frowned and looked over his glasses at her, “Mrs. Hollingsworth, are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “Jack, please no questions, just do it,” she said firmly.

  He glanced around the lobby of the bank through his office glass walls. “Melissa, are you being watched? My finger is on a button under my desk. One push and we’ll be surrounded by armed guards.”

  “No!” she screamed. “Please, Jack, that would not help me. Just do the transfer and act like nothing is wrong.” She stared into his eyes. “You can do whatever you want after I leave, but not until I’m out the door and safely away. Please, no more questions, just do this as fast as you can.”

  Thirty minutes later, she walked out of the bank and waited by the curb. A cab pulled up and stopped. Jerry and Molly were sitting in the back seat. “Get in!” he yelled.

  When she got in, she handed him the briefcase and the receipt for the wire transfer. Fifteen minutes later, when he was sure they weren’t being followed, he directed the cabbie to a side street only a few blocks away, where he’d parked the car. Five minutes later, he pulled on to I-95, heading north.

  “Where are we going?” Melissa shouted. “I did what you asked, now let us go. You promised.”

  He turned and glared back at her. “Are you really that stupid? I lied.”

  “You promised!” she shouted, “At least let Molly go.”

  He gave her an evil smile and shook his head. “Oh no, she’s all part of my plan.”

  “Please, she is scared to death. Let her go. Have you gone completely crazy? You have my money and me, what else do you want?”

  With the back of his right hand, he reached over and hit her as hard as he could, bloodying her lip. “I am not crazy!” he screamed, “Don’t you ever call me that again. And tell her to shut the FUCK UP!”

  Molly was crying in the back seat. “She can’t help it, Jerry. She’s just a little girl and she’s frightened. Please, I’m begging you, let her go.”

  “MOLLY!” he screamed, “STOP CRYING!”

  She stopped and stared up at Melissa with terrified eyes. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s all right.”

  No one talked or made a sound for the next hour. In the dark, she could see Jerry’s expressionless face illuminated from the blue dashboard light. She looked over the seat at Molly. She was finally asleep.

  “Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “You know they will catch you and put you in jail.”

  He shot her a hard look. “Maybe. And then again, maybe not.”

  “I just don’t understand this. You haven’t really done anything wrong yet. I swear to you, if you let us go. I won’t tell them anything. You have all this cash and the money I transferred... just drive to an airport, get on a plane and fly away.”

  He turned and looked at her. “You have no idea, do you? What you’ve put me through...what you’ve made me do just to survive.” He turned back and stared forward at the road, “It’s not just about the money anymore. No, I can’t jump on a pl
ane and fly away yet. Not until I’ve paid you back for what you did to me. You tried to destroy me, so now I’m going to destroy you.”

  She lifted her head and looked over at him. He was smiling. “I will get on that plane someday and fly away, but not until I know that you are finally going to die…and have lost everything and everyone you have ever loved.”

  I had just stepped out of the shower when my doorbell rang. I assumed it was Annabelle, so I wrapped the towel around my waist and walked to the door. When I opened it and saw the two detectives standing there, I frowned and held out my wrists. “Would you mind if I put on some clothes before you cuff me?”

  Surprisingly, Detective Reynolds smiled at me. “Mr. Nash, we’re not here to take you in, but we would like to talk to you. Would you mind if we come in?”

  I opened the door wider and motioned them in. “I need to put on some clothes. There’s a coffee maker in the kitchen if you want some. I’ll be there in a second.”

  I ran to my bedroom, slipped on jeans and a shirt and walked to the kitchen. When I got there, Detective Johnson was standing by the coffee machine smiling at Detective Reynolds, who was backed up against the glass patio door staring down at Charley. He was growling at her only a few feet away.

  “Charley!” I yelled. “Be nice, back off!”

  He lifted his lip and exposed his teeth, “Arrrr,” he growled, then backed away from her.

  “What is wrong with you?” I said, scolding him. “She’s a nice person, Charley. Leave her alone. She’s just doing her job, so be nice, okay?”

  He looked up at me and snorted, then he walked out of the room. “I’m sorry, Detective Reynolds, he’s not normally like that. But don’t worry, so far he’s never actually bitten anyone,” I said with a grin. “Up till now anyway.”

 

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