An August Harvest

by Ben Marney

Cautiously, she walked to the kitchen bar and sat down on a stool. “I think I could use some of that coffee now,” she said.

  “You got it,” I said, dropping in the coffee pod and hitting the button. “So what do you want to talk about this time? I know you don’t believe me, but I really have told you everything I know.”

  When her coffee was ready, I picked up the cup and set it in front of her. “There’s Coffeemate and sugar in here.”

  I pointed at the silver containers in the middle of the island. While she was doctoring up her coffee, I looked over at Detective Johnson. “So what’s this all about?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I think I’d rather have her tell you what’s going on.”

  I looked at her. “Ok, Detective Reynolds, what’s up? Do I need to call my lawyer?”

  “No, you won’t need him anymore. That’s what I came here to tell you.”

  I frowned and tilted my head. “Why wouldn’t I need my lawyer anymore?”

  She sighed and took a breath. “We just left the District Attorney’s office. He’s dropping the charges against you.”

  My heart started pounding in my chest. “Oh God! Did you find them? Are they alive?”

  “I’m sorry, but no, we haven’t found them.”

  “Then why did he drop the charges?”

  “I convinced him that you were innocent.”

  I pulled out a stool and sat down across from her. “How did you do that? What did you tell him?”

  She held up a small digital recorder. “I let him listen to this. That was all it took.”

  “What’s on it?” I asked, totally confused.

  She punched a button and I heard my voice. Then I heard Annabelle’s. The stool bounced on the tile floor and crashed into the wall behind me when I jumped up. “You bugged my house?” I screamed. “Who the hell do you think you are, the CIA? I’m not a lawyer, but I know you can’t do that!”

  Detective Johnson slid off his stool and held up his hands. “Calm down, Mr. Nash. Trust me on this, she knows she was wrong. She may even lose her job over it. I guess that’s sort of up to you and what you do about this, but if I were you, instead of screaming at her, I would be thanking her.”

  “What? You want me to thank her for trying her best to destroy my life? And now for invading my privacy? Why in hell would I do that? Do you have short-term memory loss? Wasn’t it just yesterday I was sitting in a jail cell because of her and you? And just a few days before that, both of you were screaming at me?”

  He shrugged, but he didn’t respond. What could he say?

  “I was just trying to do my job,” she said softly. “I’m a good cop, but sometimes because of what I have to deal with, and what I see every day...I guess I’ve gotten jaded. I forgot that there are still good people out there in the world. When I saw you with Annabelle, I immediately assumed the worst. Mark didn’t, but I did. Maybe it was because I’m a woman and she looks...well, you know. Anyway, I was wrong about her...and especially wrong about you, so very wrong.” She lifted her head and looked at me. “I know it probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but I’m sorry. I really am.”

  She lifted her cup and took a small sip of coffee. Her hands were trembling. “The D.A. is worried that you’ll try to sue the city for false arrest and ruining your reputation. I wouldn’t blame you if you did, but I’m not here because of that. I’m here to personally apologize for being so stupid and close-minded. I want to make it up to you if I can.” She actually had tears in her eyes.

  I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, thinking about what she’d just said. I wanted to be angry at her and tried to think of something harsh and hurtful to say to her for what she’d done to me and Annabelle, but the rage inside me wasn’t there. All I felt was relief that it was over.

  I looked at her somber face. “So whatever’s on that tape convinced the D.A. I’m not involved?”

  “Yes, that and some other evidence that has surfaced.”

  “What other evidence?”

  “Yesterday morning Melissa walked into the Chase Manhattan Bank in Jacksonville. She was alone, but the bank president was sure someone was watching her.”

  “Why was she there?”

  “She withdrew a million in cash and transferred everything else to an offshore numbered bank account. Earlier that morning, she had called her broker and instructed him to sell all of her stocks and bonds and transfer that money to the same offshore account.”

  “All of it?”

  “As far as we can tell. The bank security camera showed her getting out of a car when she went in the bank and getting into a cab when she left. There was a man and a little girl in both cars that matched Molly and Dr. Hollingsworth’s descriptions.”

  “Don’t call that sorry piece of shit doctor!” I yelled. “He doesn’t deserve that. So that’s what this is all about...her damn money.”

  “Yeah, it looks like it,” she said. “Hopefully now that he’s got it, he’ll let them go.”

  I looked at her. “I sure hope so, but I doubt it. What about all the crap the district attorney stirred up about me with the D.A. in Texas?”

  “He was making that call when we left,” Detective Johnson said.

  “My lawyer tells me he’s a real piece of work. A certified asshole who hates to lose. I bet he was pissed to find out it was Jerry and not me.”

  He nodded and grinned. “You could say that. But now to cover his ass, he’s making this case a top priority.”

  I picked up my stool and sat back down. “In what way?”

  Detective Reynolds looked up at me. “He’s ordered a nationwide BOLO and he’s bringing in the FBI.”

  Finally, I thought to myself. I looked across the bar and studied the remorse in her face. She was either the best actress in the world or she was showing me the other side of her, the human side, not the cop.

  “You know, Detective Reynolds,” I said, handing her a napkin to wipe her eyes. “I don’t know much about your profession, but I’m pretty sure a hard ass, tough detective like yourself shouldn’t be crying on the job.”

  She wiped her eyes with the napkin and gave me a small grin. “I’m not on the job. I got suspended.”

  “Well, to be honest with you, you probably deserved it,” I said, smiling. I picked up the digital recorder and held it up. “I don’t suppose you were following me this morning on the beach? Maybe close enough to record me with this?”

  She nodded her head. “That’s why your dog hates me. He saw me hiding in the berm.”

  I laughed. “Now I understand, but don’t worry about Charley. He doesn’t hate you. And I’m sure he knew you were there all along. If he thought you were a real threat, he would have let me know.” I handed the recorder back to her. “And I wouldn’t worry about your job much. You’ve met my lawyer. I’m going to call him and ask him to come over here to talk to you. After I tell him what you’ve just done for me, Melissa and Molly...I’m going to sic him on the D. A.”

  24

  Trail Of Death

  Even though the FBI were now involved and there was a nation wide BOLO out on Melissa, Molly and Jerry, Rob went ahead with his plan to release their pictures to the press, offering a $20,000 reward for any verifiable sighting. It didn’t take long for the phones to start ringing after that.

  Jerry flipped off the television and stared at Melissa. Then he pointed his finger at Molly. “You, in the car, now!”

  “Please, Daddy don’t hurt Mommy again,” she whimpered.

  “I said get in the car NOW!” he shouted. Crying, Molly ran out the door.

  “You don’t have to do this!” Melissa yelled. “I swear I won’t tell anyone what you’ve done. Just leave us here and go.”

  Jerry glared down at her as he ripped the long strip of duct tape off the roll. “Shut the fuck up,” He yelled, covering her mouth with the tape. “Do you really think I’m that stupid? I’m in charge now, bitch, not you. How does it feel to be completely helpless and under someone el
se’s control?”

  He flipped her over onto her stomach and jerked the plastic ties securing her feet up to the middle of her back. Then he took another long plastic tie and bound her wrists and ankles together behind her. She tried to scream, but the duct tape muffled the sound.

  “Scream all you want, nobody will hear you,” he smirked. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  The second the door closed, with every ounce of strength and energy she had Melissa tugged against the plastic ties. She screamed from the pain of the thin plastic strips slicing her skin. Crying and gasping for air, breathing through her nose, she tried again and again and again. Terrified and exhausted, she tried to yell, but the duct tape blocked the sound.

  In the car, Jerry grabbed Molly’s arm and squeezed it hard. She screamed and started bawling. “Stop crying or I swear I’ll go back in there and kill Mommy!” He yelled. “STOP IT!”

  She immediately stopped and froze, terrified. “That’s much better,” he said backing out the car. “We’re going to a gas station. When we get there, if you say one word or cry, when we get back, I will kill Mommy. Do you understand me?”

  She didn’t look at him, but shook her tiny head yes.

  “That’s a good girl,” he said, smiling.

  After Jerry filled the car with gasoline, he went inside the store, leaving her alone, sitting in the back seat. On the other side of the pumps, a car pulled up and a man stepped out and began filling his car. When he went to retrieve the windshield squeegee, he saw Molly sitting alone in the back seat with all the windows rolled up.

  It was a hot day, almost ninety degrees. He smiled at her. “Aren’t you hot in there?” Molly looked up at him, but quickly turned away. “You need to roll down the window or at least crack the door open,” he said.

  Molly didn’t respond, keeping her head down. “Hey, little girl, can you hear me? You need to roll down the window. It’s too hot out here, it’s not safe.”

  When she didn’t respond, he walked around the pumps and opened her door. “It’s way too hot in here for you, baby. At least keep this door open.”

  Molly looked up at the stranger. “Help me,” she whispered.

  “What?” The man said. “You want me to help you? Are you in trouble?”

  “He’s gonna kill Mommy.”

  “Who’s gonna kill your mommy?” he asked.

  He felt something push against his back, so he jerked around to see a man standing behind him. Then he felt something brush against his neck. He reached his hand up to feel what it was. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered with blood. He tried to talk, but nothing came out. Suddenly he felt lightheaded and weak. Then he fell to the ground between the pumps and the car.

  Most of the calls that came in to the police were bogus, from people making up stories trying to get the $20,000 reward, but two of them turned out to be real. They both came from Kingsland, Alabama. The first was from a waitress in a small cafe who recognized Molly’s picture. She said that she was with a man wearing a baseball cap, but she didn’t pay him much attention to him and couldn’t positively identify Jerry. But she remembered wondering why Molly seemed so sad when she waited on them. The second tip came from a small rundown motel there.

  Kingsland was a tiny little town thirty-four miles north of Jacksonville, just over the Florida state line. Because they had crossed that state line, it was now officially in the FBI’s jurisdiction, allowing them to engage all of their vast resources in the search.

  They had been staying in one of the rooms at this shabby motel for almost two weeks. The manager recognized Jerry’s picture on his television and called the police. But by the time the FBI and the local police had surrounded the motel, the room was empty.

  “This is usually a sleepy little town,” the Kingsland Sheriff said to the FBI agent, “but with this, and that murder yesterday, we’re having quite the crime wave around here.”

  “What murder?” the FBI agent asked.

  “Some guy got his throat cut over at the Kangaroo Mart yesterday afternoon. He died right there by the gas pump. It was my first murder investigation. In fact, it was the first murder in this town’s history.”

  “Did they see who did it?” the agent asked.

  “No, sir. Louise was working there by herself and didn’t see anything. I figure it was some kind of road rage thing. The Kangaroo is right there at the I-95 exit. Yeah, I figure it probably started on the freeway and ended there at the pump.”

  “Does the Kangaroo have video surveillance?”

  The sheriff took off his hat and scratched his head. “I’m pretty sure they do, but I figured whoever done this is long gone by now, so I didn’t check ‘em.”

  My heart sunk in my chest when the FBI agent in charge of the investigation called and told me that the motel manager had not seen Melissa. He had only seen Jerry and a little girl when they checked in.

  “Mr. Nash, we assume that either Mrs. Hollingsworth wasn’t there with them, or he had her locked out of sight,” he said. “Our forensic team is in there now. I’ll let you know what they find.”

  “Were there any other sightings? Maybe at a restaurant or a store there?”

  The agent sighed. “Yes, we think so. We’re running a surveillance video we received from a gas station through facial recognition software at Quantico as we speak. We’re pretty sure it was Mr. Hollingsworth and Molly.”

  “Did the station attendant recognize him?”

  “No, but we think someone there did,” he paused. “If it’s Mr. Hollingsworth and the little girl on that surveillance tape, then this case has escalated substantially.”

  “Escalated?” I asked. “In what way?”

  “Whoever’s on that tape cut another customer’s throat and drove away. If it’s Mr. Hollingsworth, this is now a capital murder case.”

  When I heard that, my knees buckled under me and I had to sit down. My head was swimming. “I just don’t get it. Jerry’s a coward, a greedy asshole, but murdering a stranger? Cutting his throat...that just doesn’t sound like something he would do.”

  “Mr. Nash, you’d be amazed at what people can do, especially when they’re on the run. At least we believe we have his car. We got the plates and model from the surveillance tape. We’re sure it’s stolen, but if he’s still driving it, we’ll get him. I sent a car to talk to the registered owner. She lives in Savannah.”

  “Did you say Savannah?” I gasped. “What’s the name of the owner?”

  I could hear him flipping pages in his notebook. “It’s registered to an Mrs. Eileen...

  “Forester?” I interrupted. “It’s registered to Eileen Forester?”

  “Yes, do you know her?”

  “Oh God, it’s Melissa’s aunt in Savannah! You said you have a car on the way?”

  “It’s there now. They knocked on her door, but she didn’t answer. We figured she’s probably at work.”

  “No! “I yelled. “She’s retired, she should be there! You need to check inside, break down the door if you have to. They could be in there hiding!”

  “We need a warrant to do that. Let me hang up and get to work on that now.” He paused for a moment. “I know this is hard, but, Mr. Nash, give us a little time. We’ll find them. We know what he’s driving, he won’t get far.”

  The FBI received the warrant thirty minutes later and broke down Eileen’s front door. At first look, they thought the house was empty, but after a more thorough search, they found her. Her body was stuffed inside of a black garbage bag in the freezer. She had been strangled. Because her corpse had been frozen, the autopsy was inconclusive on the exact time of her death. But the medical examiner was confident that she had been dead for several weeks, perhaps even a month.

  “So he wasn’t living on the street?” Annabelle asked me with wide eyes, “He was there at Melissa’s aunt’s house all this time?”

  “Looks like it, but no one knows how long he was there. The FBI canvassed her neighborhood and apparently no one
’s seen Eileen for months. They said that a man claiming to be her nephew had told them that Eileen had taken a long cruise and while she was gone, he would be housesitting for her. They all identified his picture and said that he showed up a few months ago. I’m guessing he killed her then.”

  Annabelle started shaking her head. “No, that can’t be right. Remember? Melissa and I were just there.” She pulled out her cell phone and started checking her calendar. “Look,” She said, holding up her phone, “we flew there May 14th. That was only six weeks ago.”

  I looked at her phone and counted the weeks. She was right. “Did Eileen seem okay to you? Was she acting strange in any way?”

  She thought for a moment, then lifted her head and locked eyes with me. “Oh my God, Grant!” Her hands began to tremble.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “He was there! Oh God! That’s why she wouldn’t let me go down there!”

  “Down where?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Molly left her doll there on their last visit. She made me promise I would find it and bring it back. I looked everywhere, but I couldn’t find it. When I opened the basement door to go look down there, Eileen screamed at me and told me to stay out of the basement. It surprised me, because she was kind of rude.” Annabelle looked up and stared into my eyes. “I thought she didn’t like me for some reason, but that wasn’t it at all. Oh God, Grant, he was there the whole time, and she was just trying to protect me.”

  I hugged her. “I think you may be right. And if you are, she probably saved your life, and Melissa’s.”

  She dropped her brows. “I don’t understand. If he was there, why didn’t he kidnap Melissa then?”

  I thought about what she’d said a moment, then shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe it was because Molly wasn’t there and he wanted them both.”

  We called the FBI agent and told him about their trip. “So you’re saying they were there on the fourteenth and left on the fifteenth?” he asked.