The Night Killer

by Beverly Connor

  “Oh, about three weeks ago, maybe,” said Spence. “Daddy just mentioned it in passing.”

  “What was it about the history they were asking?” said Diane.

  He shook his head and shrugged. “Gold mining, maybe. Something like that. You know, some people here still pan for gold.”

  A young teenager at the end of the table lifted his hand and grinned. “I paid for my computer with what I got panning,” he said.

  “Tyler, that’s not true,” a man said, smiling broadly. “You paid for a computer by panning? I don’t believe it.”

  A man who looked like he might be the kid’s father nodded his head. “It was a used computer, and it took him over a year. But, yeah, he did it.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” said the man. “You think maybe I could find anything in the creek out back?” he said to the woman next to him.

  “You got to be someone like a teenager with nothing else to do,” the father said, and everyone laughed.

  “I got the idea that this couple were interested in panning for gold,” said Spence.

  Diane asked as many questions as she could think of, and Frank asked a few of his own. She wondered if Liam and Izzy were having any luck. What Diane had mainly discovered was that the animosity between the two churches was worse than Travis Conrad had indicated. And that most of the congregation of this church didn’t even want to speculate on who might have done this terrible thing. It was outside their experience and outside of anything they believed anyone they knew would do. Diane asked them to call her if they remembered anything, no matter how small. She also said they should tell the sheriff of anything they saw or remembered. That got a few harrumphs from several members.

  “Thank all of you for your kind hospitality to us,” said Diane.

  “You come back,” said a woman. “You might consider joining.” She looked at Frank. “We could use your voice in the Christmas pageant.”

  Diane got up and started to take her plate when a woman stopped her, smiling.

  “We’ll take care of this,” she said.

  Diane went to the restroom before leaving. Andie went with her. She met the woman in the blue dress in the hallway.

  “You’re just stirring up trouble,” Maud said. “Do you even go to church?”

  “Yes, she does,” said a little girl who looked about eight, coming into the hall to wait for the restroom. She grinned when the woman frowned at her. “I saw her. She always knew what to do during the whole service. She never had to look and see what other people were doing.”

  “You would do well to listen, and not watch other people,” said Maud.

  “I can do both,” she said. “Besides, you were looking at her too.”

  “Seen and not heard, child. Seen and not heard,” Maud said.

  Diane winked at the little girl. Smart kid, she thought.

  Diane and Andie went back to meet up with the others in her party. She was anxious to find out what they had discovered. She thought she would tell Liam what Korey’s analysis of the note had revealed. They all walked out to the parking lot together, along with the Barres and the Watsons.

  In the parking lot, leaning against his vehicle, was Sheriff Leland Conrad.

  “I thought I told you not to come into my county,” he said.

  Chapter 41

  Diane was wrong: Sheriff Conrad was going to arrest her on church property. She was more than surprised. She was stunned—but not sure why. She had supposed he would not enter another church’s grounds and arrest a guest for no other reason than that she crossed the county line. Though he had disagreements with the church here, she thought he respected it out of general principle. There was a meanness about what he was doing, and she hadn’t gotten the impression he was mean for its own sake. Stubborn, parochial, authoritarian, a believer in corporal punishment, but not mean.

  The sheriff wore a suit. He had probably come from church. It was an old suit. Brown, shiny in places, slightly snug over the front and in the shoulders. He wore a brown striped tie that looked several years out-of-date.

  “You’re going to come with me,” he said to Diane.

  Frank put his arm around Diane’s shoulder.

  “On what grounds?” said Frank.

  “I told you not to set foot in my county,” Conrad said to Diane, ignoring Frank.

  “You did this?” said Violet. “And I suppose you are going to spit on my parents’ graves too.”

  The anger in Violet’s voice startled Diane. For a moment she thought Violet was talking to her; then Diane caught a glimpse of Maud, the woman in blue, and her husband. They were startled too.

  “Violet, we are just doing what’s right,” began Maud.

  “After all my dad did for that no-good son of yours? Dad kept Keith in a job just because he was your friend—even though Keith stole from the store,” said Lillian, “and this is how you repay his memory.”

  Diane watched Maud and her husband flinch as if they had been slapped.

  Another woman, younger than Maud, came up and stood with her, putting a hand on Maud’s arm, patting it. Diane recognized her as one of the members who had kept apart and hadn’t participated in the conversation.

  “She was told not to come into the county. It’s her own fault,” the woman said.

  “Wait a minute,” said the young man who had mentioned decent cell service. “What happened to ‘free country’? Leland Conrad has no authority to decide who can and who can’t come here. What’s wrong with you people? This isn’t the sheriff’s county, and he has no right to come to our church and do this to a guest.”

  Several people in the crowd that gathered said, “Amen.” Several grumbled. Diane heard the word outsider . It was muttered, but the meaning was clear.

  “Maud, Earl, you shouldn’t have done this,” said Spence Barre. “Like Violet and Lillian said, all of us have always been good to your son for your sake. Daddy wrote a letter on his behalf to the judge the last time your boy was up for sentencing. I read it. It was a good letter. Better than he deserved.”

  The two of them, Maud with her white hair and pearls, and Earl with his deacon’s demeanor, looked confused and surprised. They hadn’t expected censure as sharp as the Barres and Watsons were giving them.

  Violet was shaking and her sister put an arm around her waist. “I don’t want you coming to my parents’ funeral,” Violet said. “You aren’t welcome. Whatever you think of Miss Fallon here, this is a slap in my face and a terrible thing you’ve done to our church.”

  “Enough of this,” said the sheriff. He took out hand-cuffs and started toward Diane.

  “On what grounds are you doing this?” said Frank. “You have to have more than ‘she crossed the county line’ to arrest her.”

  “No, I don’t,” Conrad said. “You’ll find I have a lot of support here.” He nodded to several people. “I’m trying to find a killer, and this woman’s interfering. What she needs is a night or two in jail. You interfere and I’ll run you all in.”

  Frank walked toward him and the sheriff took out his gun and let it hang by his side.

  The minister came forward and stood between Frank and the sheriff. “Leland, what are you doing? A gun? On church property? This is God’s place, even out here. Look what you are doing to our church. Is this what it’s come to?”

  “It’s my job to keep the law, and I will as long as I’m sheriff. Now, the two of you just back off,” he said to the minister and Frank. He reholstered his gun.

  Diane laid a hand on Frank’s arm. “I’ll go with him.”

  Frank didn’t let go.

  “I need you out here,” she said.

  “I’ll follow in the car,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Sheriff,” said Frank, “you had better not let any harm come to her.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Conrad said.

  “Why, no,” said Frank. “No more than your people threatened the Watsons. Surely you see that.”

  The sheriff scowled a
t Frank. “I know you’re a peace officer, so I’m going to let that slide, out of professional courtesy.”

  “It is out of professional courtesy that I tell you—do not let a hair on her head come to harm,” said Frank.

  “It’s all right,” said Diane.

  “You and I need to have a long talk, missy,” the sheriff said.

  The sheriff put Diane’s hands behind her and put on the cuffs. He grabbed her arm and started to drag her off. Diane saw that even Maud and Earl looked a little startled. Sometimes it’s good to see consequences, Diane thought.

  “You need to talk with me also,” said Liam. He had stepped out of the crowd.

  The sheriff turned to look him up and down. “And why would that be? I don’t know you,” he said, but squinted his eyes, as if there were something familiar about him and perhaps they had met.

  “I was in the woods the night Dr. Fallon was there running for her life,” he said.

  The sheriff stopped and stared. “So, you that guy in the woods?” he said.

  “Yes,” said Liam.

  “Then I guess you need to come too,” he said. “What’s your name?”

  “Liam Dugal,” he said.

  “Where do I know that name?” Conrad said, unlocking one of Diane’s wrists and cuffing Liam to her.

  Andie looked from one to the other, alarm on her face.

  Before Liam answered, Izzy spoke up.

  “Is this what you do? Cuff people you want to talk to?” he said. “ ’Cause I can show you a better way of doing business.”

  “I don’t know who you are,” Conrad began.

  “Another peace officer,” said Izzy. “You know this isn’t right. You know that. It’s going to come back to haunt you. And all the bravado and righteousness you are feeling right now is going to feel silly later on, and you’ll wish you’d done things differently. Now why don’t you do yourself a favor and talk about this here? These people at this church are good hosts. I’m sure they won’t mind your using their fellowship hall to get your questions answered without taking them away in your car.”

  Diane was surprised. That was one of Izzy’s longer speeches. But it wouldn’t work. Izzy thought he was talking peace officer to peace officer. It sounded more like Izzy was sweet-talking a perp out of shooting hostages—at least, that was the way she’d bet the sheriff would take it. And he wouldn’t be talked down, or talked down to, in front of the people he felt he had authority over.

  Sheriff Conrad didn’t answer. He pulled Diane and Liam with him and pushed them into the backseat of his SUV, not bothering to hold their heads so they wouldn’t bump them getting in. Which was okay. The two of them ducked their heads down anyway.

  The backseat of the sheriff’s vehicle smelled like pine freshener and tobacco. The tan leather seat was slick with age and wear. Neither she nor Liam said anything. For the most part, Diane had a policy of not aggravating someone with a gun.

  Liam’s gaze, she noticed, roamed the interior. She wondered for a moment if he were planning an escape—which would be strange, since he put himself here. She wanted to ask him why, but didn’t speak. Liam was also silent. He did grasp her hand for a brief moment, squeezed, and let go. She realized he had revealed himself to the sheriff in order to go with her. She felt grateful.

  “Awfully quiet back there. Better not be planning something,” said the sheriff.

  Neither of them said anything.

  “At least you’re learning to keep your mouth shut,” he said.

  Neither Diane nor Liam spoke.

  The sheriff kept his own mouth shut for the rest of the ride.

  In the beginning, it crossed Diane’s mind that he might not take them to his office, but to some other location, and let them walk back. In which case she would really regret wearing heels. Then more sinister fears started creeping into her mind. But when he turned onto the hardtop, she knew they were headed to Renfrew, the county seat of Rendell County. She would like to have relaxed, but dared not. Instead, she occupied her thoughts trying to figure out why the sheriff was taking this course of action. Was it bravado, as Izzy suggested? Was he so accustomed to getting his way, he never stopped to think about his actions? Probably.

  Renfrew wasn’t big, and it was Sunday. It didn’t take them long to drive through downtown and past the courthouse square. They arrived at the sheriff’s office off one of the cross streets on the far edge of town. The sheriff pulled into the parking lot and stopped suddenly, jerking Diane and Liam forward.

  He got out and opened the back door, took Diane by the arm, and pulled her out. Liam was pulled along with them. Diane didn’t give him the satisfaction of a complaint. But she was getting angry. At least he could pretend to be a professional.

  Jason jumped up off the edge of the desk when the sheriff came in. Bob came through one of the doors. They both recognized Diane.

  “Empty your pockets out here on the desk,” the sheriff said to Liam. “Your belt too.” He motioned toward Liam’s waist.

  Liam complied without comment while the sheriff patted the pockets of Diane’s jacket. Apparently satisfied that they were carrying nothing dangerous, he shoved Diane and Liam toward a set of double doors.

  “What’s going on, Sheriff?” asked Jason.

  “Just teaching a Sunday- school lesson,” said the sheriff.

  He must go to a Sunday school from hell, thought Diane, as they were manhandled through the doors and down two flights of stairs. Her upper arm was hurting under his heavy grip. They arrived at the block of three cells in a row. At first glance, they looked fairly clean. Each had two sets of bunk beds and a toilet and sink in the corner. Two cells were empty and one had three men who looked like they might have been pulled in off the street for being drunk and disorderly after a long Saturday night. The sheriff put Liam in the cell next to the drunks. Then he unlocked the cell with the three men in it and, before she realized what he was doing, shoved Diane inside.

  Chapter 42

  Diane grabbed the bars as the cell door slammed shut. She glared at the sheriff.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she said. Diane was tired of being scared. She’d felt the nauseating sting of it too many times in the last few days. Damn him. She wasn’t going to be sick with fear again. But she was. Fear churned in her stomach and through her body. Her mouth was dry and she wanted to cry.

  “I told you not to come into my county,” he said, hitching up his pants and straightening his tie.

  Diane hadn’t noticed before what an ugly man he was. His face looked as if malevolence were oozing out of his pores.

  “This is among the worst human rights violations in the world. I never expected to see it here in my country or my state,” said Diane. She was holding the bars so tight her hands were aching. “You’re the devil, Leland Conrad, and you can’t dress yourself up as anything good, decent, or clean. You’re a dirty sheriff and a dirty man.”

  He glared at her, moved his mouth, but a retort seemed unable to pass his lips.

  “Sheriff, don’t do this,” said Liam. “Switch us. At least put me in the cell with her. This is wrong. You know this is wrong. Why are you doing this?”

  “I want you out of my way.” Conrad found his voice. He ignored Liam and spoke to Diane, spitting out his words. “You wouldn’t listen. Maybe now you’ll know I mean business.”

  He walked away. Liam called after him.

  “Sheriff, you can’t expect to get away with this.”

  Diane heard the doors closing as Conrad walked up the stairs.

  “Well, what’s this?”

  The voice behind her was slurred. She only now really noticed the drunken, urine stench of the place. Her mind immediately started going over her inventory of weapons—her high heels, her hands, her knowledge of anatomy.

  She turned to find the three men watching her, their stares set behind drooping eyelids, their faces colored by bad habits of long standing. The one who spoke was a thin guy not much taller than Diane’s five-
nine. He was red faced and had stringy hair and yellow teeth. Diane didn’t want to know what his clothes were stained with. The three of them gaped at her. They were everything her worst fears might conjure up for images of backwoods, small-town drunks in lockup. The man behind the talker was huge. He had a heavy padding of blubber over his entire upper body, most of it in a substantial beer belly. He had a scraggly red beard, a shaved head, and a leering grin. The last man stood off from the other three. He was tall and thin and grinned broadly. He was rubbing his crotch, tilting it toward Diane.

  “What you in for, honey? Honey?” said the first man.

  They all laughed at his joke and started coming toward Diane in a slow sashay.

  “Elbows are sharp, heel of hand is strong,” said Liam, talking fast. “You know where the pain points are. Throats and noses are vulnerable. Solar plexus on the thin guys.”

  The first guy was almost to Diane. She was shaking and he laughed at her.

  “Throat or nasal,” said Liam.

  The guy’s breath was disgusting. He reached his arms in a circle as if to embrace Diane. She punched him straight up under the chin with more strength than she thought she possessed. The man staggered back.

  “Then again, an uppercut is good,” said Liam.

  Diane’s heart was pumping so hard she could barely hear what Liam was saying from the blood rushing in her ears, but she knew he was trying to give her instructions. The rush of adrenaline through her system flooded out some of her fear. The guy was still staggering and shaking his head, disoriented. With all her strength, Diane punched him hard twice, a double tap, in his brachial plexus, a branch of nerves in the shoulder that power the arm.

  He let out a howl and staggered back, clutching his right shoulder. The other two watched him flop down on the bottom bunk, whimpering.

  His hurt was temporary and Diane was afraid she was going to run out of strength if she had to fight all of them twice. But for now, she could still feel the adrenaline surging through her.

  “Thorax punches won’t work on the big guy,” said Liam.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” the guy who had been rubbing his crotch asked Liam, marching up to the bars, glaring at him.