Dangerous Game, page 12
Suddenly red taillights flashed in front of Trish’s Jeep. The rear revealed to her an older gray sedan. She gawked. Under cover of the fog, had the sedan just now come out of one of the many private side roads? Or had it been there all along just beyond her headlights, shrouded in the fog? But most important—could this be the gray sedan?
On alert, Trish hung back. Had the other driver seen her headlights and that this was a sheriff’s Jeep? Separated again and invisible in the fog, she listened to the other vehicle. The sedan’s engine rumbled rough and loud and she knew she hadn’t heard it before. It must have just been waiting to pull onto the road. But for what? Who? Why?
Trish almost turned on her flashing lights. But she pulled back her hand. If this were the gray sedan, she had to catch its driver in the act to prove that he was the one playing the games of chicken. This might be the guilty sedan or it might just be an innocent driver.
She could still hear the older noisy engine ahead. She maintained her speed, but stayed back enough so her sheriff’s vehicle wouldn’t be seen. She could use the fog for cover, too. Then she heard the gray sedan’s large motor roar forward. She pressed down on the accelerator.
Through the mist, the sedan’s red taillights again shone brightly. The sedan had moved into the center of the road. She could see the bright yellow lines sliding like a broken ribbon under the center of the rear of the sedan. This was it—a game of chicken! Trish switched on her lights and siren.
Farther ahead in the impenetrable fog, a car horn blasted a frantic staccato. A squeal of brakes and tires on wet pavement. Then the crunch of an impact.
Trish’s Jeep roared forward. She glimpsed the red taillights of the sedan ahead. The sedan accelerated, too. In a flash from the corner of her eye, Trish caught the sight of the other vehicle off the road. Just its taillights were visible.
Torn between pursuit and giving aid to the victim, Trish flipped on her radio and hailed dispatch. “I’m in pursuit heading west on Cross-cut Road. I need backup. And there may be an injured victim.” She snapped off.
Keeping the rear lights in view, she accelerated some more. This must be it! Her heart pounded. She pressed harder on the gas pedal, trying to get close enough to see the gray sedan, its license number, its driver. The rough-sounding motor started misfiring. She sped up, tailgating the sedan. No license plate.
The sedan began to weave all over the road—back and forth. Trish wanted to catch him, not have an accident. But she couldn’t let him out of her sight. The sedan sped up some more. Then it slammed on its brakes, fishtailing on the wet pavement, spinning out of control toward the ditch. Trish swerved to miss it, and overshot it. Then she hit her brakes.
When she’d slowed enough to maneuver, she did a U-turn and went back for the sedan. The road was empty. She crept along through the murkiness, staring at the side of the road she’d seen the sedan swerving toward. She saw it then—a private lane overgrown and obviously rarely used. There were fresh tire tracks in the tall damp wild grass. She halted and called dispatch again.
This time Sheriff Keir came on the line. She quickly told him the whereabouts of the private road and that she was going back to the victim. “Right. We’ll call the EMTs,” the sheriff said. “I’ll be out ASAP. I’m having every deputy called in to search that area.” He hung up.
After getting out and marking the entrance of the lane with a red flare, she sped down the road back to the car off the shoulder. She pulled in beside it, her blue lights rotating. She ran and opened the driver’s side door. The air bags had deployed. Audra Blair moaned, “I’m hurt.”
As Grey turned onto Cross-cut, he heard police sirens. He pulled off the road. One sheriff’s Jeep and then another flew past him, disappearing into the mist. Shaken, Grey pulled back onto the road and drove in the same direction. Just the sound of a police siren stripped him of his fragile confidence. What was happening that was so desperate that two police vehicles were hurtling down this quiet country road? And then the significance of the fog hit him. Another game of chicken?
Panic flashed inside him like an instant ice storm. I’m on the road alone and some nutcase may have played another game of chicken.
Grey literally didn’t know what to do. His heart pounded. Nausea hit. I don’t have an alibi. The fear of being hurled back into a prison cell tightened around his lungs. He pulled off to the side of the road, fighting to master himself. I can’t give in to panic. I’ve done nothing wrong.
He forced himself to fill his lungs with air. He recited the Lord’s Prayer and the Twenty-third Psalm and then prayed. Then he eased back onto the road and drove toward home. On the way, he passed a red flare sputtering brightly. He glimpsed still another police car turning in to the grassy lane beside the flare. Had the sheriff called out his whole force?
Farther on, he reached the flashing of blue police lights. A car was off on the shoulder. He stopped and pulled off the road and parked. His nerves had not improved much. Everything within him blared a warning.
But there was no sense trying to slink off home. He’d added two and two and they equaled a fourth game of chicken. And after each game of chicken, the sheriff and Trish had come calling at his door. Swallowing down the nausea, he got out and approached the vehicles. “Is anyone hurt?” he called out through the cloaking fog.
Trish appeared out of the mist. “It’s Audra Blair. She’s not bad. She was run off the road and her air bags were set off. She’s just a bit bruised.” Trish looked up into his face, her warm brown eyes overflowing with worry. “Why didn’t you call me?”
She was worried about him. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets to keep from reaching for her. “I tried but your line was busy.”
“That fits. I had to call dispatch twice.” She took another step toward him.
He stayed where he was. “I was just about to call again when I was passed by police cars with their sirens on. Is this…is this another game of chicken?”
“Fraid so.”
His fight-or-flight response surged into the danger zone. Adrenaline swamped him. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, keeping his reaction under cover. I can’t look guilty. And I can’t show any obvious concern for Trish. She’s here as a cop. “Elsie’s home waiting for me and Shirley needs to go to the high school.”
“I know,” Audra said, walking forward on Keir’s arm, out of the mist. “I need to pick up Shirley.”
“You’re going to the hospital to be checked for internal injuries,” Keir insisted. “I’ll call Tom to come and pick Shirley up.”
“I don’t want my aunt alone,” Grey spoke up. No one was going to worry his aunt back into the hospital. “I brought her home from the hospital today. Am I free to go?”
“Where were you just now?” Keir asked.
“I just finished a job on County N. The home owner came around twenty minutes ago and inspected the work and wrote me a check.” Grey pulled it out of his wallet from his back pocket. “He locked up and then I started home.”
“I was on my way to stay with Elsie until Grey got there,” Trish added. “So Shirley could leave when Audra arrived. I was just on the phone with Grey.”
Grey kept his eyes on the sheriff, who was holding his fiancée close. Resisting the same protective urge, Grey folded his arms that persisted in wanting to reach for Trish.
“So I guess some people could think I’m the culprit,” Grey said, “but I wasn’t.” He couldn’t prevent his voice from rising with his final words. “I just want this over, to be left alone.”
“Go on home then,” Keir said, nodding. “Audra, you’ll sit in my car and wait for the EMTs to come and take you to Ashford E.R. Trish, I’ve called in everyone to search the area where the sedan left the road. I want you to head there now.”
Trish agreed.
Concern for Elsie held Grey here. “I don’t want you coming to my aunt’s house around midnight like you’ve done the last three times—”
“I won’t.” Keir walked away. “I already have your statement and Trish’s. Now go home.”
Grey turned to obey and then turned back. “Have you called the Ashford ambulance yet?”
“Just about to,” Keir said, halting.
“Why don’t you let me take Audra to my aunt’s house and have them pick her up there?” Grey offered. “She’ll be more comfortable and you won’t have to stay here with her.” What did I say that for? Grey nearly kicked himself for offering this.
“Yes,” Audra agreed, “I’ll wait at Elsie’s. I want to get out of this dampness.” She shivered.
To Grey’s dismay, Keir agreed and walked Audra to Elsie’s Chrysler and helped her inside. “Take care of her,” he said to Grey. Then before Grey could start his engine, Keir opened his ringing cell phone. He listened to the conversation. Grey, Trish and Audra all waited. Keir snapped the phone shut. “Dispatch got an anonymous phone call.”
NINE
Driving up the private lane to her uncle Jake’s old hunting cabin, Trish still couldn’t believe what the anonymous caller had told dispatch. “It just can’t be true,” she muttered to herself one more time. But reality kept poking its sharp beak into her face. The reality of the sheriff’s red taillights leading her through the thick fog, parking and getting out into the damp mist which sprinkled her face like dew, treading the uneven ground near the old hunting cabin she knew so well. All were impossible to consign to the realm of fantasy.
Without a word, she followed Keir to the shed. Now they would learn whether the anonymous caller had lied or told the truth. Other deputies, some on duty and some called in, had parked their cars so that their headlights illuminated the shed. They all waited around the still-closed door. Trish felt her heart and lungs seizing up, jolting as if they were going to come up her throat. Please, dear Lord, don’t let it be true.
In the semicircle of silent officers, Keir went forward and unlatched the plank door. He opened it wide. In the eerie headlight radiance, a gray sedan sat before them.
A kind of explosive mutter rippled through the deputies. Trish gagged, speechless. The anonymous caller had been telling the truth. Was the nutcase playing dangerous games her own aunt Harriet? White-haired, plump Aunt Harriet was running people off the road? “I can’t believe it,” she said aloud. “I can’t believe it.”
“Don’t jump to any conclusions,” Keir cautioned. “The anonymous caller was male. Someone may have been using the sedan without your aunt knowing anything about it.”
“That’s true,” Trish murmured, still feeling as if she—instead of Alice—had free-fallen down a rabbit hole.
“Okay.” The sheriff turned to his deputies. “Those of you who aren’t on duty can go home now. We don’t have to do the kind of sweeping search I thought we were in for. But I’m going to stay and personally conduct this investigation myself.”
“What about Audra?” Trish asked, trying to keep in touch with all of the realities.
Keir looked conflicted, his brows drew together and he grimaced. “Audra’s with Shirley. I’m sure Shirley will go with Audra to the E.R. to be checked out. I’ll call and if it’s more than bruises, I’ll go. But really I can do more here, find evidence that might prevent others from suffering accidents. Audra didn’t appear to be in real distress—just shook up. And my future wife’s no weakling.”
Trish followed the sheriff’s line of thinking but knew he’d still rather be with Audra. She didn’t mention it, however. This crime scene might actually provide them with the identity of the criminal. The off-duty deputies melted away into the fog, returning to their vehicles and driving away. They took most of the light with them. The on-duty deputies had gone to their cars and had already returned with their crime scene kits.
“I’m staying,” Trish said and started toward her Jeep to get her gloves and evidence kit and catch up.
“No,” Keir said. “No.”
She halted, turning to face him in the remaining light. “What?”
“No, you can’t work this crime scene.” Keir faced her fully with his hands propped on his hips.
“What?” Her mind refused to accept his words. “Why not?”
“Because you may be related to the person who’s been doing this. I can’t have a family member of the sedan owner on the investigation. Might lead to possibly being accused of tampering with the evidence.”
Trish gawked at the sheriff, her tight throat unable to swallow. Dread filling her every pore.
“And your family could have a negative reaction toward you if we find out that your aunt is involved. They could view you as a traitor.”
Trish stared at him, denial repressed low in her constricted throat.
“I want you to go home and tell no one what has happened tonight.”
Trish struggled to quell the writhing inside her. I have to stay. I have to find out who’s doing this.
Just then, a horn blared.
Both Trish and the sheriff turned toward it. Before Trish could see it through the fog’s gray veil, she heard the familiar rattle of her father’s truck. Within moments, her father emerged from the mist, marching toward her and the sheriff. “This is private property!” he shouted. “It’s posted No Trespassing!”
“Dad,” Trish called out. “It’s me and the sheriff.”
Her father pulled up short. “What? I was just driving by and saw all this light…What’s going on here?”
“I can’t tell you that, Mr. Franklin,” Keir replied. “I must ask you to leave this area and not to mention our being here to anyone.”
“Not tell anyone?” Noah came abreast of her and Keir. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t tell you,” Keir answered again, “but I’m here investigating a crime.”
“What crime?”
“Mr. Franklin—” Keir’s voice was firm “—please leave this area and go home. I am not at liberty to discuss this investigation with you.”
Noah glared at her. “What’s going on, Trish?”
“Deputy Franklin,” Keir said in a commanding tone, “is not at liberty to give you that information. Now I must ask you to leave.”
“No one’s making me leave until I’m ready to go,” Noah snapped.
Keir called one of the other remaining deputies. “Please see that Mr. Franklin gets into his vehicle and leaves this area.”
Her father sputtered with indignation. The other deputy approached him. At the last possible moment, Noah whipped away toward his truck, bellowing curses at the sheriff and her. The old truck rattled away, leaving a backwash of ill feelings.
“Sorry about that,” Trish muttered, hurrying, escaping to her vehicle. Her father was unraveling. Just a month ago, he’d never used such language. It made her sick to hear curses from his lips. All this just because of Grey’s parole? Was there something about her father she didn’t know?
“Trish,” Keir called after her. “Write up a report on what you observed on the road tonight as soon as possible.”
“Right.” She drove away, holding back hot tears of shame and frustration. Was my father really just driving by Jake’s property? Could he have been the anonymous caller? Or the driver who’d run Audra off the road?
Driving through the fog, Trish tried to follow Keir’s order and head home. But the thought of going to that silent, empty trailer filled her with unbearable loneliness that sucked out strength and hope. Also the very real possibility that her father would lie in wait at her house to question her made it impossible for her to go home. But where can I go?
Only one place came to mind—Elsie’s cozy little log cabin. I can’t go there. But she didn’t want to go to her brothers and worry them about their father. She knew they didn’t possess what she hungered for. Where else could she turn?
Even though the fog made it dangerous, Trish pulled off on the shoulder of Bear Paw Road. She gripped the steering wheel, trying to force herself to go home and just refuse to respond to her father. But what had he been doing near the hunting cabin? Her mind repeated her worries. Was he the driver? Was he the anonymous caller? I can’t face him. I can’t face that.
She bent her forehead against the center of the steering wheel. Never had an investigation weighed her down like this one.
Her spirit reached out, seeking comfort and strength. “Come unto me you who are heavy-laden and I will give you rest.” The verse and others brought solace and strength as she played through her mind the memories of once again sitting in Elsie Ryerson’s Sunday school class as a little girl, reciting memorized verses for hugs and candy.
New energy flowed through her, lifting her like a leaf on the wind. She straightened up. Lord, I know Grey isn’t the person responsible. And I can’t go home. So if this is a big mistake in judgment, I’m sorry. But I have nowhere else to go, nowhere else I want to be.
Before she let all the reasons why she shouldn’t go to Grey win out, she’d eased back onto the foggy road and covered the few miles to Elsie’s. She parked her Jeep outside the door and got out. She nearly ran to the door, startling two deer at Elsie’s backyard feeder. They leaped into the surrounding forest. Before anyone could answer her knock, she let herself into the warm bright kitchen. Her pulse thrummed at her temples. Bucky barked once and padded into the kitchen to her side. She stroked his soft ears.
Grey stood at the stove, stirring something fragrantly appetizing in a saucepan. Bucky left them alone.
Trish approached Grey, suddenly afraid that he’d push her away. Would he? But she couldn’t deny her attraction to him. I need you, Grey.
“Trish, what—” he began.
With a daring she hadn’t known she possessed, she rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him. “Hold me,” she whispered, implored.
For a moment, he didn’t move.
Please, Grey, don’t turn me away. She waited for his decision, not breathing.
Then he put down the spoon and his sturdy arms came around her.
Relief sighed through her. Grey’s arms held all she desperately needed right now. She pressed her face into the soft knit of his shirt. “Just hold me.” I don’t have anyone else on earth I want to turn to but you.
