Death By Chocolate 6 (Mystery and Women Sleuths) (Josiah Reynolds Mysteries)

by Abigail Keam

  “What about O’nan?”

  “I’ll check into it. He has a court order requiring him to stay a hundred feet from Josiah. I don’t think it was a coincidence that they were both at Cumberland Falls at the same time.”

  Goetz must have driven out of range, as Matt lost the connection. Scanning the parking lot, Matt rushed to meet Ginny as she came out the side door with her bag. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to the car and practically shoved her inside. Slamming her door shut, he hurried to the driver’s side and screeched out of the parking lot.

  Ginny looked aghast. “What are you doing, Matt? Slow down,” she cried. “Slow down!”

  Suddenly something slammed into the back left door making the car swerve. Ginny and I screamed as the right front tire went over the side of the road, causing the fender to scrape along the guardrail that divided the road from a cliff.

  Matt managed to keep control of the car and sped along US 25 until he pulled into a gas station in Corbin.

  Goetz was impatiently waiting for us. “Why didn’t you wait for the State Police? I just got a call from them.”

  Matt jumped out of the car and pointed, “That’s why.”

  Goetz bent over and put his finger in a hole in the back left door.

  “What does that look like to you?” asked Matt. “I’m sure you recognize a bullet hole when you see one!”

  Scowling, Goetz got out his cell phone and dialed the Lexington Police. “Put a APB on Fred O’nan. Proceed with caution. Armed and dangerous. I think he just tried to kill Josiah Reynolds again.”

  62

  Exhausted, Detective Goetz unlocked the door to his apartment and staggered inside.

  It had been a long day, starting with waiting for the State Police to find Dwight Wheelwright’s burial site. So far they had discovered much of his remains but not ground zero. Then someone had taken a shot at Josiah Reynolds. Granted, she was a boil on his butt, but she didn’t deserve to be gunned down.

  In fact, she hadn’t deserved much of the crap she had had to endure for the past five years. At times, Goetz really felt bad for Josiah. Truth be told, he liked her . . . even admired her, but every time he looked up she was in his face poking her nose where it didn’t belong.

  It bothered him that O’nan hadn’t been found yet. The guy was a nutter. Had always been a nutter.

  Goetz had never liked him, even when O’nan had been a patrol officer. He had always thought that O’nan was a bad cop. He couldn’t believe it when O’nan was promoted to the homicide division, but O’nan could schmooze people when he wanted something. Obviously he had schmoozed Goetz’s superiors.

  Goetz had always hated being witness to the pain associated with his job. He really felt for the families of the victims, but O’nan got off on it. Goetz could see it in O’nan’s eyes. O’nan liked to see people suffer.

  As soon as Josiah was tucked in at the Butterfly, Goetz had bothered some judges at their country clubs. He didn’t care that it was Sunday. He didn’t care if they were pissed about having to give up their evening golf games.

  He wanted subpoenas. He wanted them bad. Goetz thought he could prove that Dwight was killed in his own house. And he thought he knew why. All he needed was to find was a small trace of Dwight’s blood.

  Goetz and his boys would hit both Dwight’s house and the office early the next morning.

  But first he had arranged for Officer Snow to guard the Butterfly until O’nan could be found. That ass!!!

  Yes, he was bone weary. He was going to fall into bed with his clothes on.

  Goetz felt for the light switch, wishing he had left a living room light on, as it was dark in his apartment. It was then he smelled cigarette smoke.

  “Eh, eh, eh. No touchy your gun, Goetz. That’s it. Remain very still. Okay. It seems like I’ve got your attention.”

  “What are you doing here, Fred?”

  “You and I are going to have a little talk.”

  Goetz tried to adjust his eyes to the darkness in the living room. All he could make out was a lighted cigarette across the room. O’nan must have drawn all the drapes shut.

  “I want to you close the door. That’s it, nice and slow. Now take out your gun and throw it on the couch. Don’t do anything stupid, Goetz. I’ve got a gun trained on you.”

  Goetz looked down and saw a red light on his chest. He began to sweat. “Okay, Fred. Let’s take it easy. I’m reaching into my jacket and pulling out my gun. Nice and easy, just like you said.”

  “Toss it on the couch, big man,” demanded O’nan.

  Goetz tossed his gun on the couch.

  O’nan turned on a table lamp next to him. He was sitting in Goetz’s TV chair with several empty bottles of beer rattling around on the floor.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Goetz. He really wanted to punch the kid’s face in.

  “Before we start our little dance, I want you to stand over there . . . away from the door,” said O’nan waving his gun. “That’s good . . . there. Now I want you to sit on your hands on the floor.”

  “Aw, come on,” griped Goetz, noticing that O’nan’s gun had a silencer.

  “Just do it, man. I’ve got nothing to lose if I shoot you.”

  “You’ve got plenty to lose. A murder rap. A murder of a cop, at that.”

  “Shut up. I’m gonna do the talking.” O’nan pointed the gun at Goetz’s feet. “Sit down or you’re gonna be missing one of your toesies.” O’nan grinned as he watched Goetz wrestle his big bulk onto the floor.

  “Why did you go after Josiah Reynolds?”

  “Did I get her?” asked O’nan.

  Goetz could hear the sexual heat in O’nan’s voice when he asked about Josiah. “Didn’t even scratch her. I though you were a better shot than that.”

  “Damn,” O’nan laughed. “That bitch has nine lives. That’s why I’m here. I need your help.”

  Goetz laughed. “I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”

  O’nan frowned. “That’s such a worn out expression. Let’s talk about something new and fresh. Something that will interest you. I mean really interest you.” He held up a cheap little necklace and twirled it in the light.

  Goetz caught his breath but kept his face neutral.

  “She told me that Grandpa had gotten this for her.” O’nan grinned again. “Cute little thing she is. What’s her name . . . oh, yes, Dottie, short for Dorothy. That was your mother’s name if I recall correctly.”

  Goetz remained stone faced. But inside he was crumbling. Goetz was beginning to understand Josiah’s deep, abiding fear of this man.

  O’nan reached inside his shirt pocket. “And this is from Michael.” O’nan held up a pokemon card. “He says for me to say hi for him. Has a learning disability, doesn’t he?” O’nan threw the items at Goetz’s feet.

  “They both live in different states. How did you . . .?”

  O’nan wildly waved his gun while interrupting Goetz. He ranted, “Doesn’t matter. The important thing for you to realize is I know where they live and obviously have access to them. And don’t even try to warn your kids about me. They won’t even see me coming. I have friends. Lots of friends who are only too happy to do things for me because I can buy them. I have lots of money, you see.” O’nan chuckled. “If you’ve got money, you’ve got friends.” He began to sing, “If you’ve got the money, honey, I’ve got the time. Now, who sang that? Goetz?”

  Goetz mumbled, “Don’t know.”

  O’nan leaned forward in his chair. “You knew my family had money. How do you think I could stay on the run for so long? My mother simply adores me and gives me lots and lots of it.”

  “If you touch anyone in my family, I’ll kill you, Fred. I’ll hunt you down. I swear it.”

  “You have forgotten our little talk at Highbridge last year. I told you then that I was going to be calling on you. Now everything has been set in place. If you don’t do exactly what I say, one of your little darlings is going to get hurt. Perhaps
a car will jump a curb and hit one of your little mewling kiddies or they go missing from their bed. Lots of terrible things can happen. But you do what you are told, everything will be okay. If you don’t do what I say, things will get very bad for you, Goetz. Very bad indeed.”

  “Like that girl you raped and almost beat to death when you were sixteen. You didn’t know that I knew about that,” revealed Goetz.

  “Those files were supposed to be expunged. How did you know?” O’nan’s voice suddenly became strained and high-pitched.

  “I took one of my vacations in your old hometown. Yeah, the files were expunged but old timers like to talk. It only takes a twenty and information just spills forth. I can see why your family moved away. Not very well thought of. The old timers say that you were trouble from the get-go. I think one of them called you a bad seed.”

  “Goetz, if you’re trying to get me angry, it’s not going to work. I have the upper hand and know it. Not only will your family suffer but I will make sure it comes out how you were skimming money when you were an undercover cop.”

  O’nan raised his gun and shot a family picture hanging above Goetz’s head, scattering shards of glass. The report from the pistol was barely above a whisper as he fired.

  Goetz shut his eyelids. Tiny shards of glass sprinkled his face and hair, threatening to fall into his eyes, cutting them if he opened them. He was effectively blind now and totally helpless.

  “Now enough of the bull. You are going to do exactly what I tell you to do or you’re gonna suffer, man, I mean really suffer. I will burn you. Burn the heart out of you.”

  O’nan leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “There has to be a reckoning. A reckoning with Josiah Reynolds,” he hissed. “And you are going to help me, aren’t you, sunshine?”

  O’nan snapped his head forward. “I didn’t hear you. You are going to help me on my date with Professor Reynolds, aren’t you?”

  Goetz could not hide the hate and loathing in his voice that he had for his former partner, but he whispered, “Yes.”

  63

  It was late at night when Goetz managed to find one of the last payphones in Lexington. He reluctantly inserted coins and dialed the number he had been given.

  It rang a few times before someone picked up the phone on the other end.

  “The coroner is finished with Dwight Wheelwright’s remains. I just talked to his mother, Ginny. He is going to be buried in the family plot in Whitley County. There is going to be a ceremony four days from now. Mrs. Wheelwright and some of her friends are going down, including Josiah. She will be exposed outside and vulnerable. That will be the only time you will be able to get close to her,” prompted Goetz, looking around to see if anyone noticed him.

  “Whaddja tell her about me?” groused O’nan.

  “I said you were spotted in Georgia. She thinks you are out of the state. She will feel safe to come out of the Butterfly, but you’ve only got one crack at this.

  “Regardless of the outcome, Asa Reynolds will have operatives in Whitley County within forty-five minutes of picking up your trail. You better have an escape plan.”

  “Your concern touches me,” O’nan mocked.

  “I’ve done my part. Call off your boys. My family is in the clear.”

  “I think I’ll keep them in my crosshairs until this is over. Just to be sure you’re not double-crossing me.”

  “The thought never entered my mind.”

  The man on the other end chuckled. “Yeah. Sure,” he said before hanging up.

  Goetz slammed the phone back in its cradle. Taking out a handkerchief, he wiped off his fingerprints.

  Getting back into his car, Goetz noticed that his hands were shaking. He leaned over to the glove compartment and pulled out a chrome-plated flask. Tilting the flask, he took a deep drink of bourbon. It burned going down. Goetz wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He caught his reflection in the rearview mirror. His eyes were wide with apprehension.

  This was not going to go down well. Not well at all.

  64

  “What are you doing here?” asked Matt. “We should be getting home.”

  “I thought I’d offer this flower wreath to the Falls,” I remarked.

  “An age-old custom. Ancient people used to throw precious items in the water as offerings to the gods,” Matt said.

  “No gods here,” I mused. “They must have left town.”

  “It’s late. We should go,” cautioned Matt, anxiously glancing behind him. “Ginny’s already heading back with her pastor.”

  “That was nice of him to come all the way down here and officiate at Dwight’s funeral.”

  “We can talk about this in the car. Let’s go,” Matt urged.

  “This is the part of the day that Kentuckians call the gloaming. Just a few minutes before twilight. Doesn’t the light look beautiful . . . Matt, what is it?”

  Matt had uttered a cry. He looked at me in surprise and then bent over before crumpling on the sandstone rocks that encapsulated the river.

  “MATT! MATT!” I fell to my knees and tugged at Matt until I turned him over.

  Blood bubbled from his mouth.

  My hands felt sticky. Looking down, I saw that they were covered in blood.

  “HELP! HELP!” I screamed.

  No one heard me. The rushing of the water over the Cumberland Falls drowned out my cries.

  That’s when I saw him.

  I saw O’nan coming towards me with a maniacal grin on his face. In his hand was a gun with a silencer.

  Adrenaline can be a wonderful thing. I don’t even remember how quickly I got to my feet and started running . . . but running where?

  O’nan was between me and safety.

  I ran back toward the river and the Falls.

  I hadn’t gone twelve feet before O’nan caught up with me. Grabbing the back of my coat collar, O’nan pulled me close to him so he could bring the gun up to my temple. “Did you miss me?” giggled O’nan into my ear.

  I began twisting and flaying my arms, forcing O’nan to strike my head with his gun. It stunned me enough to stop resisting.

  “Enough of that,” scolded O’nan. “I’m not going to shoot you. That’s too fast. I want you to experience fear until the very last nanosecond.” He began dragging me over the rock ledge toward the Cumberland River.

  If he threw me into the river, there would be no way I would be able to resist the massive force of the water going over the Falls.

  “STOP! LET ME GO!” I screamed, trying to pull away, but O’nan was too strong. I felt the water fill my shoes as he began dragging me into the rushing current. “NO. NO,” I begged.

  O’nan laughed.

  He was going to do it. O’nan was actually going to kill me.

  The hell he would!

  I rammed my elbow into his gut.

  Gasping, O’nan released his hold just time enough for me to wrench away. Sloshing through the water, I tried to make my way back to shore, but the current was too strong. The water kept threatening to pull my feet out from underneath me.

  Oh my God! I was going to go over the Cumberland Falls.

  O’nan crashed into me from behind, causing me to fall facedown in the water. He pushed my face into the muck of the river bottom.

  I felt for a loose rock and then flayed my arms trying to pull O’nan off, but I was using up my oxygen. I began to lose consciousness.

  I was dying.

  Then . . . inexplicably, O’nan lifted his hands.

  Gagging and coughing up water, I rose, scrambling for the riverbank. Looking behind me, I saw O’nan on his knees in the water looking surprised, just like Matt had looked before he had fallen.

  O’nan glanced at his chest and then at me.

  The water was red for a second before the current washed the blood away.

  Grabbing onto a boulder, I watched as O’nan tried to say something to me. Then he fell over and was caught in the current.

  O’nan swirl
ed in an eddy before the current picked him up and carried him away. He dipped and bobbed as the water rushed over boulders and then finally to the edge.

  O’nan was silent as he went over the Cumberland Falls.

  65

  Goetz removed the scope and wiped down the rifle before placing it in a canvas bag. Stooping over, he picked up several heavy rocks, placing them in the bag also.

  He knew Asa Reynolds would be suspected of being behind the shooting, but he couldn’t help that. Goetz hoped she had a good alibi.

  Carefully he emerged from his hiding spot on a rock outcrop across the river.

  Taking one last look, Goetz saw Josiah crawl out of the water, making her way to her friend, Matt.

  A man who had been walking his dog ran toward her. He frantically dialed 911 on his cell phone.

  Satisfied that Josiah was getting help, Goetz made his way back to his vehicle. He was sure no one had seen him. After tossing the bag into the trunk, he carefully drove away, leaving the car lights off.

  Using the back roads, Goetz drove to Laurel River Lake. Finding a deserted spot near where the lake was the deepest, Goetz made an offering of the rifle.

  The lake accepted it.

  66

  I looked up to see Goetz tapping on the observation window of the ICU room. Like a rusty machine that needed oil, I struggled out of my chair by Matt’s bed and went out into the hallway.

  “How’s he doing?” asked Goetz.

  I shrugged. “He’s still in a coma. It’s touch and go.”

  “I see that he’s still on life support.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come over and sit down. I want to tell you what has happened.” Goetz gave me a stern look. “Are you up to it? You’ve been here for three days. You look like hell.”

  I smiled bitterly. “I can always count on you to make me feel better.”

  Goetz helped me to a large waiting room. There were only a few people as it was after 1 am. We sat in a corner.