Bound for Murder, page 24
One thought stopped me—Dan’s threat about Sunny and her grandparents running out of air. Maybe it was another lie, but if it wasn’t and he’d trapped them in a box or barrel where they might die before they were found, I had to stay silent. I couldn’t take the risk that Dan would clam up and refuse to reveal their whereabouts when he was captured. I had to find out where he’d hidden them before I attempted any escape.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t consider all my options. I gave Dan a side-eyed glance. “Were you ever planning to write a story about the disappearance of Jeremy Adams and the others?”
Dan didn’t take his eyes off the road, but a little smile quirked his lips. “No, but it was a clever cover, wasn’t it?”
“You are a journalist, though, or was that a lie too?”
“Yes, of course.” His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Although I guess I’ll have to change professions after this. I suppose I can still write books under a pseudonym. And I have made some preemptive plans to acquire a new identity. It will be tough, throwing away my old life, but I suppose I’ll manage.”
I ignored this disgusting plea for sympathy. “What did you want from Carol and P.J., anyway?”
“The truth.”
I snorted. “Says the liar.”
Dan casually threw out one hand and slapped the side of my face, slamming my shoulder into the locked car door. “Why don’t you keep your mouth shut, Miss High-and-Mighty. Not like you haven’t kept plenty to yourself after all that snooping through the archives and searching the Internet, not to mention your chats with former commune members.”
I winced as I fingered my jaw. Nothing broken, thank goodness, although I knew the soreness would probably only increase over time. “I didn’t keep it to myself, actually. I shared what I found with Chief Deputy Brad Tucker.”
Dan swore and shot me a furious glance. “You really are the most interfering …” He cleared his throat as he focused back on the road. “Never mind. I doubt whatever you told him links anything directly to me.”
I didn’t reply. Let him think whatever he wanted—I wasn’t about to ease his mind. Richard will know something is wrong when he doesn’t find me with Aunt Lydia and I don’t answer my phone. Not to mention he’ll have Brad with him, and they’ll both know about my discovery of Dan’s connection to the case. So don’t panic, Amy. Hang on to that knowledge. Be glad it’s information your adversary does not possess.
Dan spun the steering wheel hard to the right, making the wheels squeal and sending gravel flying as we turned onto Vista View’s driveway.
I sneaked a glance at his hawk-nosed profile as we rattled our way toward the farmhouse. He hadn’t murdered Jeremy Adams, but I wasn’t ruling out the possibility that he had killed Ruth Lee. And maybe even Stanley Owens.
It made sense, if I considered everything I’d learned from my research and talks with the other commune members. Stan had loved Belinda Cannon. I could imagine him helping her little sister cover up the murder of the man she felt was guilty of luring Belinda into the drug addiction that had ultimately killed her. Because, although she might’ve been able to kill him on her own, someone had to have aided Gail in burying Jeremy and cleaning up the crime scene.
Stan had still been living on the farm at the time when I suspected the murder had taken place. Gail would’ve known him from her visits to the commune, and maybe even guessed his feelings for her sister.
It also explains Stan’s breakdown, I thought. His rash actions and subsequent feelings of guilt would’ve created more trauma than a broken heart.
But I wasn’t going to raise the specter of his mother’s guilt with Dan. That seemed like a good way to get myself killed. Instead, I decided to try another tack, hoping I could throw him off his game by offering an alternative killer. Maybe he’d see me as less of a threat if I convinced him I’d come to a different conclusion than the one he feared.
“You know, I was thinking about Stanley Owens’s accident,” I said, as Dan pulled the car into the small gravel lot beside the farmhouse. “It seems so weird, him being on that footbridge when he was supposedly so afraid of heights. It makes me wonder if maybe he killed Jeremy Adams, and the guilt ate away at him over the years until he couldn’t live with it anymore.” I caught Dan’s eye and held up my hands. “You see, that would explain things. He didn’t fall; he jumped.”
“Stanley Owens? You think he had the guts to kill anyone?” Dan grunted and leapt out of the car. He circled around the hood and unlocked and opened the passenger door before I could do more than unbuckle my seat belt. Clamping his hand onto my arm, he dragged me out of the seat and forced me to stand beside him. “Not as clever as you think, are you?” He gave my arm a shake and fixed his cold gaze on my face. “Of course he didn’t jump, you idiot. I pushed him.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
I froze. If Dan was admitting this, he didn’t intend to let me live.
“I can’t believe that,” I said, as he again linked his arm though mine and yanked me close to his side.
“Why not? You don’t really know me, now, do you?”
“Apparently not.”
Dan jerked my arm. “And I have a very good reason to silence people like Stan.”
“He wanted to confess?” I tripped over my own feet as Dan dragged me along.
I could see that we were headed toward the old barn, the one used to store extra hay and straw. It was located beyond the more modern barn that housed farm equipment and fresh produce like apples and potatoes. It was also hidden behind a grove of trees, and probably wouldn’t be the first place searched if Brad and his team canvassed the farm. I grimaced. Which meant that Sunny, Carol, and P.J. could be in real trouble if Dan was telling the truth about their limited air supply.
And now you could be in trouble too. I blinked rapidly to chase the tears from my eyes. I couldn’t fall apart. I had to hold it together and figure out some way to save my friends as well as myself.
“You said you were protecting your family. I can understand that. Was Stan going to put them in danger?”
“Yes, simply to ease his own conscience.” Dan pulled me along the narrow path that led through the stand of trees hiding the old barn.
He didn’t have a gun, as far as I could tell. I could’ve tripped him and tried to make a getaway. But that wouldn’t help me find where he’d trapped Sunny and her grandparents. I had to bide my time until I knew exactly where they were—in the old barn, or elsewhere. I knew there were a few other abandoned outbuildings on the farm. I had to be certain which one they were in before I attempted an escape.
“So he killed Jeremy Adams, but your aunt or your mother helped him cover it up?” I asked, still hoping to offer him a way to avoid confessing his mom’s guilt.
Dan snorted. “Hardly. My aunt was already dead. She ran away and OD’d not long after Jeremy and your pals dumped her off at my grandparents’ house. Like garbage, my mom said. They treated her like garbage.”
I wanted to dispute this but held my tongue.
“My mom vowed to get justice. She was only fifteen at the time, but she was braver than all the rest of those losers combined. They just covered everything up. Mom said if they’d only taken Belinda to the hospital in the first place, maybe she would’ve gotten the help she needed and lived.”
But the addict has to want to change. No one could’ve forced Belinda Cannon to do that, even if she had been hospitalized. One glance up at Dan’s furious face made me decide to keep that thought to myself.
“Your mom told you she killed Jeremy?” There was no point in being subtle anymore. I simply had to keep him talking so he’d take me to the place where he’d stashed the others.
“Yes. Not when I was a child, of course. But when Stan Owens contacted her and said he wanted to go to the authorities and confess his part in the murder, she had a breakdown.” Dan cast me a sharp look. “She was already in bad health at that point, and Stan’s stupid notion about atoning for his guilt sent her over the edge. That’s when she finally told me. She didn’t know what to do, how to keep him quiet.”
“Which meant you took care of the problem to protect her,” I said, as Dan kicked open the weathered side door to the old barn. “I can understand that. You didn’t want her to have to face a trial, and prison. I might’ve done the same.” This lie slipped easily off my tongue. I wouldn’t have done anything of the kind, but there was no point in further antagonizing Dan. I had my own loved ones to protect.
Dan shoved me inside the barn. I stumbled forward when he released me but quickly regained my footing. Sunny and her grandparents had to be here somewhere. Now that I knew where to send any searchers, perhaps it was time to take action.
I spun around to face Dan, who pulled his hand away from a shelf formed by one of the wooden beams bracing the barn wall.
Too late. Now he had a gun.
“All right, turn around and walk over there to that door in the back corner,” Dan said. “And in case you have any doubts, I’ve already used this weapon on someone else who wanted to share a little too much with the authorities. Believe me, I have no hesitation about using it again.”
Ruth Lee, I thought, as I dodged stacks of bales to cross the barn. Dan had killed Ruth, like Stan, to keep her from implicating his mother in Jeremy’s death. I didn’t understand why Dan would’ve thought Ruth knew anything about it, except … Ruth had comforted and supported Stan during his breakdown. Maybe Gail had found out about that relationship. It wouldn’t have been surprising for Gail to have stayed in touch with Stan over the years in order to keep tabs on her accomplice, and if she’d ever suspected that Stan had confessed anything to Ruth, that could’ve been enough to put Ruth on Dan’s hit list.
I gnawed the inside of my cheek. The sad truth was that it was unlikely that Ruth had known anything about Stan’s or Gail’s involvement in Jeremy’s death. As far as I could tell, she’d had no knowledge that he’d even died. But obviously, Dan had felt he couldn’t take that chance. Which didn’t bode well for me, or Sunny and her grandparents. Looking around for any sort of weapon, I tripped over a loose floorboard and fell against a rough wooden door that led to a storage area.
Grain bins, I thought, remembering exploring this barn with Sunny as a teen.
Dan yanked me away from the door and opened it. “Inside.”
I moved forward slowly, the muzzle of the gun pressed into my back, guiding me. On my right sat rectangular grain bins the length of a bed and the height of an upright washing machine. All the lids had been thrown back against the rough timber wall except for the one at the far end. That one was closed. A shiny, new padlock fastened its lid, locked through the metal latch.
A thump rattled the closed lid. “Sunny!” I shouted, before Dan came up behind me and slapped his free hand over my mouth.
Instinct kicked in. I bit his palm.
Dan yowled and thrust me aside. I fell to the dusty floor, catching myself with my hands before my head hit the wood planks.
The banging on the grain bin lid resumed, reassuring me that Sunny was alive. Or at least one of her grandparents, I reminded myself as I sat up, my stomach churning.
Dan looked me over, his mouth twisted into a sneer. “I should shoot you right now, but I don’t have time to do a proper cleanup. I was planning to wait for nightfall to take care of the others. That is, if any of them were still breathing. Guess I’ll have to do the same with you.”
I yanked a large sliver of wood from my palm with my teeth and spat it out, aiming for his expensive running shoes. “You’ll have trouble locking me in with the others. It’ll be four against one at that point.”
“Two old people and a thin woman, all of whom have been crammed in a box and deprived of adequate oxygen for a few hours? And you”—Dan nudged my foot with the tip of his shoe—“a shorty who doesn’t look like she packs much muscle. I think I can manage. Besides, I have a gun.”
I glared up at him. “Yeah, that makes you extra brave, I guess.”
He leveled the revolver at me. “I’d keep that smart mouth of yours shut if I were you.”
“To keep you from shooting me? Wait—I think you plan to do that anyway.”
“Not necessarily. I actually haven’t decided yet.”
Another lie. I bit my lower lip. “Go ahead, open up that bin and toss me in with the others. At least it will give them a breath of fresh air.”
“Not for long, I’m afraid. But I’d advise you to behave and climb in with them like a good girl. Unless you want me to shoot you right here and now.” Dan pointed the revolver at my forehead. “The alternative offers you at least a ghost of a chance. Who knows? Maybe I’ll just disappear before the authorities suspect anything, and you might live. That is, if someone finds you in time.”
“Open it. I won’t try anything,” I said, furiously thinking of a way to throw Dan off guard.
Once the bin was unlocked and Sunny and her grandparents were freed from their wooden tomb, I could fling myself at Dan’s legs. Try to topple him. Sure, he might shoot me, but if it gave the others a chance …
“On your feet,” Dan commanded.
I complied, and he knelt down in front of the bin, keeping the gun trained on me while he fiddled with the lock with his other hand.
Sliding the padlock from the latch, he dropped it to the floor before leaping to his feet. The lid of the bin popped up a few inches, and I spied a slender wrist.
“Sunny!” I dashed forward and flung the heavy lid up. It hit the wall with a thud.
Lying pressed together on the bottom of the bin, Sunny’s grandparents were still as corpses. Sunny struggled and sat up before turning to check on Carol and P.J.
“Breathing’s shallow,” she said in a voice as hoarse as the caw of a crow. “But still alive.”
“Thank heavens,” I said, meeting Sunny’s bleary-eyed gaze.
“Enough chatter. Get in,” Dan said, poking the gun into my ribs.
“Okay, okay.” I lifted my foot, as if preparing to climb into the bin, but instead swung it to my right, slamming the heavy rubber heel of my sneaker into Dan’s shin.
He howled and grabbed for me with his left hand. But Sunny, fueled by adrenaline, jumped up and dove out of the bin, body-slamming him like a professional wrestler.
I’ll have to ask her where she learned that move, I thought, swallowing a burst of hysterical laughter.
Dan hit the floor with Sunny on top of him. Throwing her off to one side, he sat up, still clutching the gun. He narrowed his eyes and trained the barrel on Sunny.
At that moment, music blared from Dan’s jacket. And not just any music—one of Jeremy Adams’s songs.
Startled, Dan hesitated with his finger on the trigger. He fumbled with his other hand to silence the music, which rolled in waves through the confined space of the storage room.
My phone. Somehow, pressed inside Dan’s jacket pocket, it had come to life. I chased away the thought of the improbability of Dan accidentally turning it on and activating the music player.
“Thanks, Jeremy,” I whispered, before I flung myself against Dan’s back as he once again aimed the gun at Sunny. My action threw off his aim, and the bullet whistled over Sunny’s head and lodged in the wall. With my ears ringing from the report of the revolver and with Jeremy’s music still blasting from my phone, I latched onto Dan’s wrist with both hands, forcing his arm down.
But I knew I couldn’t hold him forever. “Run!” I shouted at Sunny. “Get out of here. Get help.”
She shook her head as Dan twisted his arm, loosening my grip. With a sharp swing of his arm, he tossed me to the side.
Dan jumped up and reached into his jacket with his free hand, yanking out my phone and flinging it against the wall. The music died in a crack of plastic and tinkle of breaking glass.
“Run!” I screamed, my gaze glued to Dan’s hand. To the gun. I didn’t care about my phone, or my own safety. All I could think about was the ease with which Dan could now lift the revolver and shoot my dearest friend.
Another wail echoed mine. But this was no voice. It was the scream of sirens, racing closer and closer.
Dan swore and ran, shoving Sunny aside so he could dash through the storage room door. His footsteps echoed throughout the old barn as he fled.
“Are you all right?” Sunny asked, gripping the doorframe with white-knuckled hands.
“Fine. But you”—a hiccup bubbled up in my throat—“you should’ve run. You could’ve been killed.” I clambered to my feet, locking my knees to keep my rubbery legs from buckling.
“And leave you and the grands here?” Sunny released her hold on the doorframe and tossed her tangled blonde hair behind her shoulders. “What kind of person do you think I am?”
I crossed the room and threw my arms around her quivering shoulders. “A brave one. An amazing, foolish, courageous one.”
She hugged me back, and we stood locked together for a moment before Sunny pulled away and cast an anxious look toward the bins. “The grands need help. You have your phone?”
“No. That was the one playing music. The one Dan shattered.”
“He took mine too.” Sunny wavered slightly.
“But the sirens mean help is coming,” I said, placing a hand on her arm. “You go to Carol and P.J. and see how they’re doing. Now that they have air, hopefully they can breathe more freely. I’ll run out and try to find Brad or another deputy.”
“Be careful. Dan’s out there somewhere, and he still has a gun.”
“I think he’s making for the hills, if he has any sense, but okay. I’ll be on my guard.” I patted Sunny’s arm. “Stay with your grandparents …”
