Vows of Silence

by Debra Webb

  “I turned off your coffeemaker.” He opened the door to go. “There’s no time to waste.”

  That he would completely disregard her questions ticked her off. She grabbed her purse from the hall table but didn’t budge. “Tell me where we’re going and I won’t give you any trouble, but don’t expect me to just walk out that door without knowing where I’m going.”

  “To the lake, Lacy.” He indicated that she should precede him out the door. “We’re going to the lake.”

  If he’d said any other place on earth she might have been able to hold her ground. She walked out of her parents’ home and straight to his truck without looking back. The idea of what he might be about to show her rendered her mute, defenseless.

  She heard the front door close, heard him behind her, but she didn’t speak again. She climbed into his truck, snapped on her seat belt and just sat there.

  Panic had taken root in the pit of her stomach. Whatever had happened, it couldn’t be good. If she opened her mouth now…she might say the wrong thing and Cassidy would kill her.

  He drove in silence as he made the turns she recognized all too well.

  The lake that bordered her hometown covered a fairly large area but, despite the passage of ten years and the inevitable changes, she knew exactly where he was taking her. Exactly what it looked like…the image was indelibly imprinted on her soul.

  As they neared their destination, she got antsy and couldn’t just sit there. She had to demand some answers, didn’t she? “What’s this about?” she finally worked up the nerve to ask as he took the final turn onto the narrow thrust of land that had haunted her dreams for more than a decade.

  “Recognize the place?” He cut a look in her direction that made her stomach turn over. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”

  Before Lacy could dredge up a credible response, she looked toward the place where they’d pushed Charles’s Mercedes into the water that night ten years ago. The air she’d only just drawn into her lungs evaporated, taking the oxygen she needed along with it.

  Several official-looking vehicles were jammed into the narrow space that led to the water’s dangerous edge. Everyone knew this part of the lake was too dangerous…no fishing, no swimming…

  A police car, a tow truck and a van—white van…with red letters spread across the side.

  CORONER.

  Why would the coroner return to a crime scene after the body had been taken away?

  Why did they need a tow truck? And all those cops?

  Her movements on autopilot, as if she were watching herself from a distance, she climbed out of the truck and walked toward the cluster of vehicles.

  A morbid grinding sound came from the tow truck as it pulled a dark sedan up onto its flat hauling bed. A frown furrowed Lacy’s brow, but she didn’t recognize the generic-looking car.

  That was good, wasn’t it?

  Rick’s fingers abruptly curled around her upper arm and she felt herself being ushered forward, toward the group of cops standing a few yards away. As they approached, the men separated, revealing what looked like a hospital gurney.

  It was a gurney.

  Lacy stalled.

  Rick held her tighter in his powerful grip, urged her forward.

  Her heart banged against the wall of her chest.

  What had happened here?

  She looked up at Rick but he avoided eye contact. He just kept dragging her toward the gurney, where a large black plastic bag lay. It looked almost like a garment bag, but deep down she knew what it was.

  “Give us a moment.”

  No one argued with Rick’s request. They scattered before the cold words stopped echoing in the damp morning air.

  In a sort of stunned amazement Lacy watched them go. Why didn’t someone tell her what was happening? She didn’t understand. She wasn’t supposed to be here. This couldn’t involve her.

  As she started to turn back to the gurney, something about the car being driven away aboard the tow truck snagged her attention.

  Budget.

  The sticker was unmistakable. The car was a rental.

  Black dots floated in front of her eyes as her mind fought to deny the first thought that rushed to the front of her brain.

  The metal-on-metal sound of a zipper dragged her fading attention to Rick and the gurney. She hadn’t even realized he’d let go of her.

  But he had.

  His long-fingered hands slid the zipper down the length of the large black bag, and then he drew open a flap revealing what the bag held.

  Lacy stared at the face that was as familiar as her own. Pain knifed through her heart. Her knees shook. Cassidy’s skin looked grayish-blue…her eyes were open but unseeing. Ugly purplish marks marred her slender throat.

  She was dead.

  That couldn’t be.

  Every drop of blood in Lacy’s body dropped to her feet and she swayed.

  Strong hands clamped around her arms and shook her hard. “Look at her, Lacy! Take a good, long look. Your friend is dead and nothing you tell me now is going to bring her back, but it might just save you or one of the others from suffering this same fate.”

  Lacy sagged against him, unable to hold up her own weight. Her entire body alternately shook violently and stiffened as if paralysis had set in. How could this happen? No…it just couldn’t be.

  Rick crushed the sympathy that immediately welled inside him. He couldn’t let the pain Lacy felt get to him. He had to make her understand how dangerous what she and her friends were doing really was.

  “Do you want Kira or Melinda to end up like this?”

  She looked up at him, her dark eyes wide in horror, her lips trembling with the need to cry. “What happened? I…I don’t understand.”

  He turned her around to face him, but he didn’t let go. He was pretty sure she’d hit the ground if he did. “I don’t know what she was doing last night, but someone killed her, then drove her out here in the trunk of her own car. Sound familiar?”

  Lacy’s knees gave out completely then and he had to hold her against him to keep her vertical. “I don’t…I have to call her folks.” Her body rocked with the sobs that followed on the heels of her murmuring.

  “Someone will take care of that, Lacy.” He shifted her slightly and walked her back to his truck. En route he nodded for his boys to finish up the work they’d started. He helped Lacy back into the passenger seat, then rounded the hood to get back behind the wheel.

  “Oh, my God.” Lacy swiped at her eyes and sucked in a ragged breath. “She’s dead. Cassidy’s dead.”

  “Are you ready to talk now?”

  She stared at him, pain etched across her face. “What?”

  “Someone strangled her, from behind we think, loaded her into the trunk of her own car and brought her here. We haven’t found any footprints or any other tire marks. Nothing. Whoever did this was careful. They didn’t want to get caught—they only wanted to send a message.”

  Her eyes red and overflowing with emotion, Lacy blinked in confusion. “A message?”

  She was practically in shock. Fat lot of good she would do him then.

  “Listen to me, Lacy.” He shifted in the seat to face her fully. He had to make her understand how important her cooperation was. “You and your friends know something. Whatever that knowledge is, it just cost Cassidy her life. I need you to tell me the whole truth about the day Charles died. I need you to tell me right now.”

  She looked at him, her eyes so round with emotion that it twisted his gut into knots of pure agony. “We’re all going to regret what we did…”

  The whispered words were scarcely audible, but they sent adrenaline rocketing through him. “What did you do, Lacy?” He grabbed her by the shoulders again and shook her just enough to get her attention back on him. “Tell me what you and your friends did.” He had to stop this from escalating. Whatever had occurred ten years ago, someone was out for vengeance.

  And then she did the last thing he needed h
er to do. She dissolved into tears all over again. He couldn’t help himself. He had to take her into his arms and comfort her.

  He’d just forced her to look at the body of her murdered friend. She was devastated. He should be ashamed. But he was desperate.

  Desperate to save her from the same fate.

  A knock on the window followed by, “Chief,” jerked Rick’s head up.

  Deputy Keith Larson waited patiently outside the driver’s side door. Rick powered down the window, keeping one arm firmly wrapped around Lacy as she sobbed against his chest. “Yeah, Larson, what is it?”

  Larson offered his cell phone. “It’s Brewer. He needs to talk to you. Something about finding human bones over at the Thackerson place.”

  Human bones?

  Just what he needed, another frigging body—or what was left of one.

  He hoped like hell this one wasn’t the result of a homicide. Two murders to solve in a small town known for serene living were more than enough.

  Something his grandmother always used to say suddenly came to mind out of the blue: Skeletons weren’t meant to stay hidden.

  Chapter 12

  “Definitely human.”

  Rick stared at the pile of bones the coroner had been inspecting. “Any idea whether the victim was male or female or what might have been the cause of death.”

  Jacob Griggs scratched his head thoughtfully. “Well, I’d say this is more likely a female, judging solely by the size of some of the bones. Maybe a small male but I—”

  “Chief!”

  “Excuse me, Jacob.” Rick left the coroner crouched over the trace sheet where the bones were scattered and walked toward the site where his two deputies, as well as a couple of forensics techs from the Birmingham lab, scratched around in the dirt. The remains had been discovered on the edge of a cornfield belonging to Lester Thackerson. The heavy rains a week back had resulted in one of old man Thackerson’s trucks becoming mired in mud up to the axle at the edge of the field. They’d had to wait until the soil dried thoroughly before attempting to pull the truck out. All the digging had unearthed more than the truck’s rear tires.

  “Look at this.” Brewer rushed up with a plastic evidence bag containing what looked like a dirt-encrusted wallet. He tapped the bag. “Driver’s license. One Pamela Sue Carter.”

  Tension sharpened in Rick. “Let me have a look at that.” He took the bag from Brewer and studied the partially disintegrated license. Sure enough, it was Pam’s. His pulse rate jumped into overdrive. “We still have to confirm that the remains are hers.” He pinned Brewer with a firm warning. “Not one word of this to anyone until we have confirmation and we’ve notified her daddy.”

  “I understand.”

  “You find anything else?”

  Brewer shook his head. “We’re still sifting around and finding bits and pieces of clothing. Part of a shoe. What’s left of a purse.”

  “All right. Just keep this quiet.”

  Brewer hustled off to rejoin the search. Rick shifted his attention back to the coroner, who had gathered the remains into a body bag and was preparing to leave the scene.

  First Charles Ashland, Junior. Now Pam. And who the hell had killed Cassidy Collins?

  Those friends of Cassidy’s had been hiding something and someone knew it. But what?

  Ironic, he mused, that the same heavy rains of early last week had resulted in Charles’s body being found as well as Pam’s. Or maybe it was just plain old fate.

  Rick still felt guilty for dragging Lacy down to view her friend’s body that morning, but he needed to shock her. Needed her to understand that their secret could get them killed.

  There was always the chance, of course, that Cassidy’s murder would turn out to be a hate crime or some other random killing, but it was just too coincidental that the murderer had brought her body to the exact spot where Ashland’s body had been dumped ten years ago. She’d been locked in the trunk the same way he had.

  Whoever had killed Cassidy wanted Rick to know that it was payback. The question was, who cared enough about Charles Ashland, Junior, to want to avenge his death? His parents, sure, but they weren’t killers. And, he already knew that they both had alibis last night. One of his deputies had been called to their house when the herd of reporters wouldn’t leave peaceably at the request of Ashland’s personal security.

  Deputy Kilgore had spent several hours outside the Ashland residence, where both Senator and Mrs. Ashland were tucked safely away.

  Melinda? Definitely not. She and Cassidy were best friends. Though, the fact that Cassidy had disappeared abruptly from Melinda’s home did beg to be looked into more closely. Rick would thoroughly investigate all avenues, but he knew with an absolute certainty that Melinda hadn’t done the deed.

  Whoever had killed Cassidy had been strong enough to choke her to death without any trouble and then heft the body into the trunk. Definitely not something Melinda could accomplish alone. Then again, adrenaline often provided abnormal strength to those in desperate situations.

  He knew for certain Lacy wasn’t involved because he’d been watching her house last night. Brewer had been watching Kira’s.

  Rick heaved a disgusted breath. The fact that Bent Thompson had been following her had him worried for her safety. Now, considering Cassidy’s murder, he should be worried about far more than Bent Thompson. Sure Bent would be fully capable of pulling the murder off, but he had no reason to want to hurt Cassidy…unless she figured out he was on to them, which would explain why he’d been following Lacy.

  All questions he needed answers for.

  There was only one place he would get the answers he needed.

  Lacy hung up the telephone in Melinda’s kitchen. She summoned her courage and relayed the information she’d just gotten from Cassidy’s cousin Julia. “They’re forgoing the usual funeral because of the—” Her throat closed. She bit down on her bottom lip to hold back a surge of anguish. She had to keep it together. Cassidy would want her to be strong. “Because of the autopsy. Her folks have decided to have a simple memorial service tomorrow for family and close friends.”

  Kira and Melinda sat at the island, the expression on their faces the same as Lacy’s: bewildered…shocked.

  “We…” Lacy moistened her lips and tried to find the right words to say. “We should probably try to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” It was eight or nine in the evening already. She wasn’t even sure which one. Lacy only knew that she felt like death warmed over.

  “I don’t understand how this could happen,” Melinda murmured.

  Melinda’s brother, Kyle, had called to see if she was all right. He was out of town with a death in his wife’s family, leaving Melinda pretty much alone. Lacy’s folks were coming back home after hearing the news but wouldn’t arrive until just before the memorial service. Kira was the only one with a decent support system handy.

  But they had one another.

  Lacy walked over and put her arm around Melinda’s shoulders. “I don’t know who did this, but I intend to find out.” She said the words with a bit more ferocity than she’d meant to. But she was tired, unable to modulate her tone or even attempt to control her emotions. If she lived a thousand years she would never be able to forget the horror of seeing Cassidy that way…and she would never forgive Rick for putting her through that experience.

  “It’s got something to do with those calls,” Kira said quietly, her entire demeanor a study in defeat or something on that order. “I just know it. We were certain it was just you freaking out, maybe even imagining stuff, but you weren’t…it’s real.”

  Maybe it was the stress, but just then, with her friend lying dead on some medical examiner’s cold table, the idea that any of them would have thought such a thing about her made Lacy want to scream.

  “I can’t believe you,” she snapped. “Why would I make up something like that?” She plowed the fingers of both hands through her hair. Her head ached horribly. “You’re
supposed to be my friends and you think I would make up taunting calls like that?”

  Kira looked ready to burst into tears again, but Lacy just couldn’t help it. She was sick to death of all the subterfuge.

  “If we’d been open with each other the way I wanted to maybe Cassidy wouldn’t be dead.”

  “Lacy,” Melinda chastised quietly, as if she didn’t have the strength to put any real oomph into her words, “don’t say that. You know Kira didn’t mean anything.”

  The last thread of Lacy’s control frayed and broke apart. “No, I don’t know what she meant, Melinda.” She glared at first one and then the other of her lifelong friends. “I saw her…” She blinked back the tears burning in her eyes. “I saw what had been done to her…where the car had been left.” Her gaze zeroed in on Kira’s. “Exactly the same place we stopped Charles’s car before we pushed it into the lake. Whoever is responsible for Cassidy’s murder, knows exactly what we did.”

  Kira did burst into tears then.

  “God Almighty, Lacy, did you have to say all that?”

  Melinda wrapped her arms around Kira and comforted her while Lacy stood back like the enemy and felt at once sorry for herself and furious with both of them.

  “All I’m saying,” Lacy said finally, feeling like the heel the others must surely think she was, “is that someone knows and we have to do something to protect ourselves.”

  Kira swiped at her cheeks with the backs of her hands. The cell phone in her purse started to ring again, for the dozenth time. She knew it would be Brian so she ignored him. Lacy was beginning to think Kira’s fiancé wasn’t exactly a stellar catch. The guy apparently had serious trust issues. The picture of Kira and Brad Brewer outside her parents’ home last night slammed into Lacy’s head. Or maybe Brian had good reason not to trust his bride-to-be.

  Guilt knifed into Lacy. What the hell was she doing? First she couldn’t stop the paranoia as to what her friends were thinking about her and now she was doing the same to them.