An August Harvest

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An August Harvest Page 24

by Ben Marney


  “Yes, they got there Saturday afternoon about two and left Sunday around noon.”

  “That fits. I think you’re right. If he wasn’t in the house, he was close by. We just uncovered a video showing Eileen and a man that fits Jerry’s description standing behind her at her bank the next day, on the sixteenth. She cleaned out all of her accounts and left with about $60,000 in cash. What we know so far, from talking to her neighbors, is that he had apparently been living there for at least three months. So yeah, I’m sure he was there. She’s lucky.”

  “Yeah, she was,” I said, “but I’m thinking he wanted Melissa and Molly.”

  “Mr. Nash, I’m about to get on a plane heading your way. I need to know more about Melissa and Molly. Anything you can tell me that might help us find them.” He paused. “Can I call you Grant? This Mr. stuff is a bit formal.”

  “Sure, call me Grant.”

  “Great, I’m Jordan.” He paused again and took a breath, “Grant, we found the car and...it had blood in the trunk. It’s Melissa’s.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, leaning back in my chair and staring into Annabelle’s eyes. “How much blood?”

  “Not enough to be considered a mortal wound, but she’s injured and bleeding. We found the car abandoned on the side of the road at somewhere called Franklintown, a few miles north of Amelia Island.”

  “That’s only a few hours away from here,” I shouted. “When did you find the car?”

  “I just got the call. I’m guessing a few hours ago.”

  “You don’t think he’s coming back here, do you?”

  “That’s why I’m heading your way. We don’t know where he’s going. It doesn’t fit into any scenario we’ve ever seen before. The car didn’t break down, it was full of gas and started right up. He abandoned it on purpose and tried to hide it; it was off the road about thirty feet in the woods. If a hunter hadn’t come across it, we wouldn’t have found it for months. We assumed he hitched a ride with someone. Grant, to me it looks like he’s heading toward something close, maybe to you, or maybe to somewhere else, but I’m certain he’s heading to a specific destination. Otherwise, he’d be going in a different direction far away from Florida.”

  When I hung up, I walked into my bedroom to my closet and opened my gun safe. When I turned around, Annabelle was standing behind me.

  “I didn’t know you owned a gun. What are you planning on doing with that?”

  “Annabelle, listen to me. This is very important. I want you to put Charley and Donna in your car and drive nonstop to your parents’ house.”

  Her eyes flew open wide. “What?”

  “Don’t argue with me. I think Jerry is coming back for me, and I don’t want you or Charley anywhere around here when he shows up.”

  “No, Grant!” she shouted. “I’m not going to leave you here alone.”

  I wrapped my arms around her. “He’s already killed two people. And he may have already killed Melissa and Molly. I can’t have you in danger, too. Please don’t argue with me. Take the dogs and go. Now.”

  I had to drag Charley down the stairs and shove him into her car. He knew something was up and did not want to leave me alone. I could hear him barking and Annabelle crying as they pulled out of the driveway and drove away.

  25

  A Toothbrush

  Annabelle’s apartment was only seventeen miles from Grant’s house, and although he made her promise she would drive straight to her parents in Boone, she didn’t even have a toothbrush with her. It would only take her a second, she thought, to pack her toothbrush and some clothes in a bag, so instead of turning toward the freeway, she turned right and headed to her apartment.

  As she made the turn into her complex parking lot, Charley began to whine. When she pulled into her parking space, he whined louder. “Stop that,” she said to him, “It will only take me a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

  When she opened her door to step out, Charley jumped across her lap, out the door and took off running. “Charley, come back here!” she screamed, running after him. By the time she ran to the street, he was gone, nowhere in sight.

  She knew where he was going; back to Grant’s house. She ran back, jumped into her car and cranked the engine, but instead of putting the car in reverse and backing out, she changed her mind and turned off the key. It didn’t make any sense not to go get her toothbrush and some clothes while she was there. After that, she could drive back to Grant’s, pick Charley up again and drive on to Boone.

  Wrapped in a blanket, hiding in the tall sea oats, beach grass and railroad vines in the berm behind his beach house, Grant sat quietly, holding his new Glock in his right hand. He had turned on every light in the house and garage. He’d even turned on the four exterior floodlights that lit up his front, sides and back yards. From the berm, he could easily see someone approaching.

  When he heard the noise, he froze and searched with his eyes. When he saw the source of the sounds, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was Charley, and he was running toward him barking.

  “What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Annabelle!”

  Charley started spinning in circles, barking, crying and whining. A cold chill ran through his body remembering the last time he had seen him acting this way. It was Valentine’s Day morning, two years ago, when he had walked down the stairs with Rita and Audrey heading to the airport.

  “Where’s Annabelle?” he yelled. “Is she in trouble?”

  Charley turned and ran around the house. He jumped up and ran after him. When he got there, Charley was standing beside his truck, whining and barking. He pulled out his keys, unlocked and opened the door. Charley jumped in first, then he got in, cranked the engine and took off.

  When he stopped at the light at A1A, Grant looked over at him. “She went to her apartment, right?”

  “Woof, woof, woof.”

  Detective Reynolds knew she shouldn’t be anywhere near there. She’d only been reinstated for a few weeks, but she couldn’t stop herself. It was a feeling in her gut she’d had all day long. Something told her she needed to be there, so after her shift ended, she drove to Grant’s neighborhood and backed her car off the road into the woods across the street from his house.

  From there, she had watched Grant load the dogs into Annabelle’s car and wave as she drove away. An hour later, she watched as all the lights outside his house began to come on. Then she watched him walk down the steps and walk around the side of his house. He was carrying a blanket and something black in his right hand. Curious, she slipped out of her car, ran to the adjoining house and watched him wrap the blanket around him and crawl in between the tall sea grasses in the dune behind his house.

  “What the hell is he doing?” she whispered to herself. ”Why is he hiding there?”

  After a few minutes, she left him and walked back to her car. Thirty minutes later, a car slowly pulled into the cul-de-sac. She couldn’t make out the driver, but whoever it was drove around the circle and backed into a driveway of an empty house with a for sale sign in the front yard.

  She pulled out her cell and punched in a number. When Detective Johnson answered, she whispered, “Mark, something’s going down here.”

  “Down where?” he asked.

  “At Grant Nash’s house. There’s a guy backed up in a driveway at a vacant house.”

  “What the fuck are you doing there? Do you want to get fired this time?”

  “Damn it, Mark, I’m telling you something’s going down! Grant’s hiding in the bushes, in the berm behind his house, and I think he’s got a gun.”

  She heard him sigh. “Anastasia, call the FBI. It’s their case now. You don’t need to get involved. Call them and get the hell out of there now!”

  “Whoa, what’s he doing here?” she whispered.

  “Who is it? Who are you talking about?”

  “The dog. Grant’s dog. He just ran around the house.”

  Frustrated, he yelled. “Anastasia,
the dog lives there. Will you please get the hell out?”

  “I know that, but Grant loaded him into Annabelle’s car an hour ago. I’m telling you, something is wrong here.”

  “For God’s sake, crank your car and leave!” Mark yelled. “I’m calling the FBI.”

  “Wait, hold on,” she whispered, “They’re getting into his truck!”

  Sliding down in her seat, not to be seen, she watched Grant and Charley speed away. A few moments later, she saw the mysterious car slowly pull out of the driveway and follow them. As the car drove by, she recognized his face.

  “Oh shit, its Hollingsworth!” she shouted as she cranked her car and backed into the road.

  “Hollingsworth is there?” Mark shouted, “I’m on my way. Don’t do anything until I get there.”

  “I can’t do that, he’s on the move. I’m going to follow him. He’s driving a white Ford sedan, I think. I’m going to see if I can get close enough to get the plates.”

  “No, God damn it!” Mark yelled. “Hang back. Don’t let him see you.”

  Following the old pickup a few cars back, Jerry smiled as they made the turn, because he knew where they were going. “Don’t worry, Grant, you’ll all be together soon,” he said with a chuckle. “You, Melissa, Molly, and your new one. It should go down pretty easy,” he said out loud. “What’s the old saying? Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

  Grant slid to a stop in Annabelle’s apartment parking lot behind her car. Her driver side door was standing open and the inside lights were on, shining bright, illuminating the empty interior. Annabelle and Donna were nowhere in site.

  He opened his truck door and followed Charley running up the four flights of stairs. He was gasping for air when they finally made it to her apartment and banged on the door. When the door opened, he got the shock of his life. Standing in front of him was Molly.

  When she saw him, she burst into tears and jumped up into his arms. “Mr. Grant! Help us!” she cried.

  Holding her in his arms, he walked into the room and looked around. It was empty, but Charley barked and ran toward the bedroom. When he walked into the room, he saw Melissa and Annabelle, side by side lying face down, hog-tied with their wrists and ankles bound behind them with plastic ties. They both had silver duct tape covering their mouths.

  He put Molly down and ran to the bed. Melissa didn’t move, but when Annabelle heard him, she opened her eyes and started struggling against her bindings. She tried to talk, but the tape muffled the sounds. As gently as he could, he peeled back the tape from her mouth.

  “Jerry!” she screamed. “He did this.”

  “I know, don’t worry, I’m here now,” he said softly. “Don’t struggle. Let me cut you loose. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get a knife.”

  He ran to the kitchen and frantically began jerking open the drawers, searching for a sharp knife.

  “You won’t find anything in there.” Grant jerked around to see Jerry standing in the doorway, smiling.

  When he saw him, his blood boiled and he ran toward him, but stopped when Jerry held up a long switch blade knife. “Not one more step,” he said. “I’ve gotten quite good with this.”

  Grant glared at him. “Yeah, I’ve heard all about it.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Grant saw movement. It was Charley, standing only a few feet away from Jerry. He lifted his lips and growled deeply. “No, Charley!” Grant shouted. “Back off!” He stopped growling, but didn’t move.

  “The gun. Give me the gun,” Jerry snarled. “I saw it. It’s stuck in your belt, behind your back. Put it on the bar.”

  Grant smiled. “You saw that, huh? Yep, it’s a gun all right, but I’m not going to put it on the bar. I think a better idea would be to see if I can pull it out of my belt and shoot you with it, before you stab me with that knife.”

  Jerry smiled back. “I’m afraid you’re a little too far away, but I bet I could kill him before you can shoot me.” He took a step toward Charley.

  “No, Daddy! Don’t hurt him.” Molly ran up to Charley and put her arms around his neck.

  Before Grant could make a move, Jerry jerked her by the arms and pulled her beside him. Holding the knife to her neck, he yelled, “PUT THE FUCKING GUN ON THE COUNTER! NOW!”

  Slowly, Grant pulled the gun out of his belt and laid it on the counter.

  “Over there,” Jerry said, pointing to the couch, “and take the dog with you.”

  Grant grabbed Charley by his collar, drug him to the couch and sat down. Jerry picked up the gun and shoved Molly toward the couch. “Go sit with them and be quiet, or you know what I’ll do.”

  Obediently, she walked to the couch and sat next to Grant.

  “If anybody moves, I swear I will slit their throats.” He glared down at Grant. “Do you understand?”

  Jerry left them alone and walked into the bedroom. A few minutes later, he returned with Annabelle. He had cut off her ties and was pointing the gun at her head. “Go sit by your boyfriend.” He shoved her forward and shot Grant a hard look. “If anybody moves, everybody dies!”

  He left them alone again for a few minutes. When he returned, he was holding Melissa under his arm. He dragged her unconscious body into the room and dropped her down on the floor. He shook her hard. “Wake up, bitch!” he yelled. “You’re gonna miss the party!”

  Melissa moaned and slowly opened her eyes. When she saw Grant sitting on the couch above her, she opened her mouth and tried to talk, but no sounds came out.

  Grant stood and moved toward her. “DON’T MOVE!” Jerry yelled, pointing the gun at his head. “Sit your ass back down and don’t even think about it.”

  Grant held up his hands and sat down. He looked down at Melissa’s skeleton thin body and gave her a gentle smile. Her red bloodshot eyes were sunk back deep into her sockets. Her red eyes made a stark contrast against her greenish yellow skin on her face and neck. He’d seen that look before on his mother’s face the day she died – it was a death mask.

  Silently, the parking lot of Annabelle’s apartment complex began to fill with black FBI vehicles, local police units and two large SWAT team vans.

  Detective Reynolds explained everything she had seen take place at Grant’s house to Dan Hathaway, the special agent in charge.

  With thermal energy cameras attached to a drone, the FBI determined that they were all in the front room of the apartment.

  “One standing, one lying on the floor and three are sitting side by side on what we assume is a couch,” the agent reported to Hathaway. “It also appears that there is a dog sitting next to the people as well.”

  Hathaway nodded his head. “That makes sense. Grant Nash left with his house with a dog. What about a sniper?”

  The SWAT team leader nodded his head and said, “We’re bringing in three bucket trucks. They should be here soon. I think we may be able to get the shooters high enough for a shot with those.”

  “Let me know when you have that in place. I’ll wait to make the call then.”

  26

  Sit In Daddy’s Lap

  Jerry bent the blind down with his finger and peered out the window. “Oh my,” he smirked, “the calvary has arrived.” He let go of the blind, backed away from the window and grinned. “All the Saint Augustine boys in blue must be down there. It’s quite an impressive showing. It’ll be big news tomorrow.”

  Grant lifted his head and glared at him. “You did all this for press. Going out in a blaze of glory so you’ll be famous?”

  Jerry didn’t respond. He just smiled, sitting patiently as if he was waiting for something, fiddling with his knife – folding the blade back into the handle, then pushing the button, watching it snap back open.

  “It’s not real fame, Jerry,” Grant said. “You of all people should know how humans react. Oh, the world will all hear your name, but they will soon forget it. And if your name ever comes up again, they’ll just say, ‘Is that the crazy ass doctor who killed all those innocent people? The guy who got h
is head blown clean off his shoulders by the SWAT team sniper?’”

  Jerry closed the knife and frowned at Grant. “You really think that’s what’s going to happen?”

  “I know that’s what’s going to happen. As soon as they have a shot, your head will suddenly explode like a ripe melon and your brains will be splattered all over the room. But don’t worry, Doc, you won’t feel a thing,” he said with a smirk, “I just hope I get to see it.”

  Jerry jumped out of the chair and pointed the gun at Grant’s head. “You won’t be able to see anything, because that’s not going to happen. You don’t think I’ve gone to all this trouble without having a plan, do you?” He lowered the gun and laughed. “What’s really going to happen is, you will all be dead and I will be on a plane heading to some faraway island...a very rich man.”

  Grant started laughing. “Come on, Doc, that’s your big plan? You are disappointing me. I’ve never liked you. I’ve always thought you were an arrogant, lazy, greedy bastard, but at the same time, I’ve always thought you were very intelligent. Don’t you watch TV? At the first shot, they’ll crash through that door and take you out. They’ll never let you walk out of here alive.”

  Jerry lowered himself back down into the chair. “Molly, come here,” Jerry said.

  As if she was in a trance, Molly obediently slid off the couch and walked up to him. “Sit in Daddy’s lap.”

  Without hesitation, she crawled into his lap. “That’s a good girl. Now hold on to Daddy’s neck real tight and don’t let go.” He looked her in the eyes, “If you don’t hold on tight, you know what I will do, don’t you?” She dropped her head and nodded. “That’s a good girl.”

  Cradling Molly in his arms, he stood up and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “You’re right. I, of all people, do know how humans react. Do you really think they will take a shot at someone holding a little girl in his arms?” he grinned. “Not even if it’s a clean head shot, they won’t take it. Not as long as her head is close to mine. And another thing...they won’t hear any gun shots.” He pushed the button on the knife and the sharp stainless steel blade popped open. “We’ll be using this.”

 

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