One Foot in the Grave: Carly Moore #3

Home > Mystery > One Foot in the Grave: Carly Moore #3 > Page 32
One Foot in the Grave: Carly Moore #3 Page 32

by Denise Grover Swank


  “Down the county road, but your truck’s out front.”

  “The asshole took the keys.”

  “Then let’s hope he didn’t take my keys too. He didn’t get them when he stopped me, but he likely stopped and grabbed them when he left.”

  We headed outside, and I was struck anew by the depth of the darkness. Lula’s cabin didn’t have electricity, and I had no idea how close her neighbors were. While it took a second for my eyes to adjust, there was no denying the sound we both heard: a car was approaching on the county road.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Wyatt snuck a glance at me, studied the lane leading to the county road, and then grabbed my arm. “Come on.”

  We raced down the steps, moving toward the tree line to the west, away from the creek.

  The sound of the vehicle came closer and headlights appeared on the lane. My fear turned to relief when I saw it was a sheriff’s SUV. A familiar face was behind the wheel.

  “It’s Marco,” I said, pulling free from Wyatt’s hold. “He heard me.”

  I started to leave the tree line to run to Marco, but a gunshot rang out nearby, shattering the driver’s window of SUV.

  Wyatt dove on top of me as he pushed me to the ground.

  “Marco!” I screamed.

  Another shot rang out, and Wyatt’s full weight held me flat on the ground. Marco’s car continued on toward the shack, coming to a stop on the other side of Wyatt’s truck. Its headlights illuminated the sagging front porch. The back window of his SUV had been shot out.

  “Son of a bitch,” Wyatt growled. “It’s coming from the trees close to the driveway.” He rolled off me and got into a squat.

  Another shot hit Wyatt’s truck.

  “He’s aiming at Marco,” he said, pulling me to a squatting position too. “Let’s make a run for the trees ahead.”

  I got to my feet, hunching low to the ground, and Wyatt kept himself between me and the gunman as we ran for cover.

  The next gunshot was aimed in our direction, and another shot quickly followed from behind Wyatt’s truck. Marco.

  “Give it up, Conrad,” Marco called out. “Backup’s on the way.”

  “And who are they going to believe?” Paul shouted. “A veteran deputy or a deputy who’s thick as thieves with the Drummonds?”

  “Maybe they’ll believe this,” Marco said. Paul’s voice filled the air, radiating from his car’s stereo system, turned up full blast, as the Explorer’s headlights switched off.

  “You stay away from Mitzi or I’ll make your life a livin’ hell. Trust me, girl, I’ve got the power to do it.”

  The words he’d said to me when I’d showed up at Mitzi’s house to ask her questions.

  The volume lowered and Abby’s confession played. How had Marco gotten that?

  Marco shouted, “You’ve been under investigation, Conrad. And Abby Donahey’s statement will be the nail in the coffin. Come with me peacefully.”

  “And spend the rest of my life in prison on trumped-up charges?” Paul’s voice carried across the small clearing.

  Wyatt leaned into my ear and whispered, “Keep going around toward the back of the cabin.”

  “What are you going to do?” I asked, my heart in my throat.

  “Get answers, but he’ll know my location, so we need to separate. I can’t risk him shooting at me and hitting you.”

  “I don’t want him shooting at all,” I protested.

  “Me neither, but something tells me we’re not going to get our wish.”

  “Be careful, Wyatt.”

  “I will. Go.” He gave me a little shove, and I started walking through the trees while my voice and Paul’s filled the air from the Explorer’s speakers.

  “Turn it off!” Paul said, his voice sounding closer, which meant he was moving through the trees toward Wyatt. “I’ve heard enough.”

  The recording stopped, and the silence was eerie.

  “Who called in the anonymous tip the night of my arrest?” Wyatt asked.

  “Mitzi,” Paul said. “Heather convinced her to do it, but it’s eaten her up ever since. Even though you could have easily bought your way out of it. You chose to be a stubborn ass. Just like that stupid Heather.”

  Sirens sounded in the distance.

  “Give yourself up, Conrad!” Marco shouted again. “You might be able to get a plea bargain if you give up some of the other crooked deputies.”

  “No way in hell!” A barrage of gunfire followed.

  I ducked down even though the house stood between me and the bullets. I considered running toward it. Would it be safer close to the house or here in the trees?

  I held my breath as I waited to hear from Marco and Wyatt.

  Nothing.

  The sirens grew louder, and I inched my way closer to the creek, but the silence was overwhelming, and every step seemed to give me away.

  “Wyatt?” Max shouted from in front of the house.

  Max was here? Had he come with Marco?

  Wyatt didn’t answer.

  Another round of gunfire came from the trees, closer this time.

  Had Paul shot Wyatt? I tried not to panic.

  One thing was certain, I didn’t want to just sit in the trees and get shot. After the next exchange of gunfire, I made a run for the back of the house, then worked my way toward the front, stumbling on a few rocks scattered next to the house. I could see Max outside the Explorer on the passenger side, but Marco was out of view.

  Max caught sight of me, his startled face illuminated by the dashboard lights. He held up his hand to motion for me to hold still.

  The sirens sounded like they were on the other side of the tree line, and I wondered if Paul was going to give himself up or if they’d have to kill him.

  I made my way to the edge and peered around to see Marco standing between his Explorer and Wyatt’s truck, his service gun at his side.

  Suddenly, Paul broke out from the trees, charging straight for Wyatt’s truck and letting out a yell that sounded like a battle cry. He held his handgun aloft, with his arm straight out, but he hadn’t fired a single shot. Was he out of bullets?

  “Shoot me!” Paul shouted as he slowed down, firing a shot and hitting Wyatt’s truck.

  “No,” Marco called out. “I’m not lettin’ you off that easy.”

  Paul stalked toward the front of the truck, his gun still raised. “I’ll kill you, Roland!”

  My breath caught.

  “Marco,” Max said in a low warning.

  “I’m not killing him.”

  I didn’t want to kill him either, but I wasn’t about to let him hurt Marco. While I didn’t have a weapon, there were river rocks scattered on the ground around me. I picked up a hefty stone and hurled it at him, but I only managed to brush his arm.

  He came to a halt, shifting his attention to me, and I scooted back around the corner and picked up two more rocks, ready to hurl them.

  “Stop where you are, Conrad!” Marco shouted, but Paul ignored him, walking past the front of Wyatt’s truck.

  “Shoot him, Marco!” Max shouted.

  Paul turned his gun toward Max and pulled the trigger. Another gunshot followed from Marco, but Paul remained standing.

  Several deputy cars rounded the corner at the lane and streamed into the clearing, their headlights partially blinding. Paul turned and pointed the gun at Marco. Suddenly, Wyatt was behind me, and he threw his own rock, hitting Paul dead center in the back.

  Two gunshots went off, and Paul fell to his knees, but Marco remained standing as the deputies flooded out of their cars and surrounded us with drawn weapons.

  Paul was still on his knees, his gun pointed under his chin. “Stay back! I’ll do it!”

  “You coward,” Marco sneered. “You need to be held accountable for what you’ve done.”

  “No, Roland, that’s something you would do, which is why you’ll never win at anything. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, and you’re nothing but a sheep.”

 
The shot rang out and Wyatt jerked me to his chest, burying my face into his shirt as the deputies crowded around Paul, issuing orders to try to keep him alive until an ambulance arrived, but I’d seen his wound before Wyatt could pull my gaze away. I knew he wasn’t recovering from that.

  Then I remembered he’d fired at Max and Marco. I pulled loose and ran to Max first, grabbing his upper arms and searching him from head to toe, looking for any signs of injury.

  “I’m fine, Carly. He missed.”

  I pulled him into a hug, holding him tight, even though it aggravated the pain in my ribs. I pulled away and searched the crowd of deputies for Marco.

  “He’s okay, Carly,” Max said softly.

  “Paul fired at him too.”

  “And he missed him, although I’m not sure why. Based on what I’ve recently learned, Paul Conrad was a first-class bastard who shouldn’t have batted an eye at killin’ either one of us.”

  He was right, but I had no answer for it.

  Marco broke loose from a group of deputies and walked over to me, pulling me into a hug.

  “You scared me to death, Marco! I thought he shot you! Multiple times!”

  “I’ve already been shot twice, which is enough for me.” He tilted my chin, and his eyes darkened when he saw my bruised face. “I’m gonna have an ambulance take you to the ER.”

  “I’m fine. I just want to go home.”

  Softness filled his eyes. “I’ll get someone to get a quick statement from you, then have Max take you home.”

  “I can take myself. My car’s just down the road.”

  “I realize you can do it yourself, but I’d feel better if someone took you. I’d do it myself, but I’m going to be here for a few hours, and I don’t want to keep you waitin’ that long.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I think I’ll have Wyatt take me. We’ve got some things to discuss.”

  A shadow crossed his face. “Then I’ll call you in the morning.”

  I grabbed his hand. “No. I need you to call me when you’re done.”

  “It’s going to be in the wee hours of the morning, Carly.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll wait up.”

  He conceded, but he didn’t look happy about it. He found a deputy to take a short statement from me, telling me they’d want a more in-depth report the next day. The deputy didn’t seem upset that I’d been asking questions, but it occurred to me that I might need to get an attorney myself to keep out of trouble.

  Wyatt had given a statement, and after hearing about my conversation with Abby, they cancelled the arrest warrant and told Wyatt he was free to go, but he had to leave his truck since all the bullet holes made it part of the crime scene.

  Max could leave too, but he’d ridden with Marco, which was how I ended up hiking the half mile to my car with the two Drummond boys. Wyatt had told us he could hot-wire it if the keys were missing.

  “How’d you end up with Marco?” I asked Max as we walked.

  “I barely made it out of town before my truck broke down, which I suspect was sabotage. Marco happened to see me on the side of the road. I told him what was goin’ on, but he’d already gotten a call on his radio from Conrad. I had the recording you made with Abby on my phone, and he still had your recorder.”

  “Okay, but Abby’s not sure she wants to give an official statement. She’s worried about losing her veterinary license. She’s going to need an excellent defense attorney first thing in the morning.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Wyatt said.

  The keys were still in my car, but to my irritation, Wyatt insisted on driving. We dropped Max off at the tavern, then drove in silence for a few moments before Wyatt said, “I owe you my thanks.”

  “No,” I said, “you owe me answers.”

  “Carly…”

  “You said if I helped prove your innocence, you’d give me answers. I got you off the hook and helped save your life tonight. The very least you can do is follow through on your promise.”

  “I can tell you some things, but not what you want to hear.”

  Same old bullshit. But I reined in my temper and asked, “And what do you think I want to hear?”

  “Something that’s goin’ to give you some magical power to bring down my father,” he said, his voice weary, “but you’re not going to find it. It doesn’t exist.”

  “That’s what you think?”

  “Carly,” he said, sounding like he was getting pissed. “If you’re stickin’ around Drum because you’re set on bringing my father down, then do yourself a favor and leave already, because we both know you’re not stayin’ for me.”

  “Pull over,” I snapped.

  “What?”

  “I said pull my damn car over.”

  His hands tightened around the wheel. “Seriously? You’re gonna leave me stranded on the side of the road in the middle of the night?”

  “No, I’m gonna drive my own damn car like a grown-ass woman. For some reason, you suddenly think I’m some fragile flower, but I’m not sure why. You didn’t seem to think that when you showed up at my bedroom door asking me to help you find out who killed Heather. You seemed to think I was capable of handling myself then.”

  “My father is different. You have no idea what he’s capable of.”

  “I’m more aware than you think. Now pull over.”

  He jerked the car to the side of the road and came to a full stop, putting the car in park. “What the hell are you talkin’ about, Carly? Has my father threatened you?”

  “My personal life is none of your business!”

  “It is if it involves my father!”

  I opened my car door and got out, then walked around to the driver’s door and jerked on the handle. “Get out.”

  He climbed out and stood beside me. “Has my father threatened you?”

  “Why don’t you ask him?” I slid past him and got behind the wheel, leaving him to walk around and get in from the passenger side.

  He hesitated for a moment longer before he circled the car, and when he got in, he rested his hands on his knees. “I know you’re not weak. And I know you mean well, but you have to leave my father alone.”

  “What happened?” I asked, pulling back onto the road. “At Seth’s funeral you were all for helping me, but it only took you a few days to change your tune.” I shot him a glance. “What did your father threaten you with?” I cast another look at him and saw the surprise on his face. “So I’m right?” How had I not realized this before?

  He started to say something but stopped himself.

  “What did your mother say to convince Max to come home from college and run the tavern? When I asked her, she told me she reminded him of his family obligations. What would those be?”

  His body stiffened and he whipped his head around to face me. “When did you talk to my mother?”

  I was tired of keeping secrets, especially from him. Maybe sharing a few of mine would jog some of his loose. “Yesterday.”

  “Where?”

  “I went to their house for tea. Your father invited me when I saw him at the construction site.”

  “What?”

  “Your mother and I had a lovely chat. For some reason, she thinks we’re still dating. And apparently Max is perpetuating this illusion. You both have supposedly created a few excuses for why I haven’t agreed to meet with her. If you’re doing it to appease your father, he knows we’re not together. He thinks I’m sleeping with Marco.”

  “Sometimes illusions serve their purpose. Sometimes everyone has a part to play, and when they stop playin’ those parts, innocent people pay the price.”

  I shook my head. “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “When I broke free from my father, I didn’t just hurt him. I hurt myself and other people in this town. I thought it was all about me, but it went deeper than that. Only I had no idea until recently.”

  “Let me guess…your father enlightened you,” I said in disgust.

  “I rea
lize that for some reason you don’t fear him like everyone else in this town, but he’s still very much the boogeyman, Carly. Pretendin’ like he’s not doesn’t make him any less dangerous.”

  “Oh, I know how he works, trust me. And he knows enough secrets to be powerful, but he’s like a cockroach hiding in the shadows. Once you shine a light on him, you don’t need a gun or even an army to destroy him. You only need a shoe.”

  “You can’t be serious,” he said in horror.

  “I am. So you can either join me or hide in the shadows too.”

  “And what if you find information that could hurt my father, but also someone else? Someone who doesn’t deserve it. What will you do then, Carly?”

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Right now all I see is a pathetic excuse of a man who likes to use threats to control a whole town. But here’s the truth: your father has lost most of his power and Bingham’s waiting to swoop in and take the rest.”

  He released a bitter laugh. “You think Bingham gives a shit about this town? You of all people know that everything he does is to benefit himself.”

  “And you can’t say the same about your father?” I asked in disbelief. “I don’t for one minute believe he’s building that resort for the town. He’s doing it for himself, and the town just happens to benefit from it. Men like him aren’t altruistic, nor are they compassionate. So he’ll pay the lowest wages possible, all but indenturing the employees to him, and while they’ll think he’s helping them, he’ll really be entrapping them, pinning their wings, but doing it so slowly they won’t realize it’s happening.”

  “What do you know?” he asked, and I could hear the hesitation in his voice, along with a hint of fear.

  “Enough to know your father is vile, but not enough to pin him down yet.”

  “Carly, you’re playin’ with fire.”

  “Then I’ll be sure to bring a fire extinguisher.”

  I turned onto the road that led to his house.

  “What are you doin’?” he asked. “I’m supposed to be taking you home.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of taking my own self home.” I took a deep breath before I continued. “While I appreciate your offer of help, I’m a strong, capable woman. Do I need help sometimes? Yeah, but so do you. I helped find out what really happened to Heather. I went to that cabin to save you from Paul Conrad. Surely I’ve earned your respect.”

 

‹ Prev