Chasing Shadows

by Karen Harper

  She glanced around in the river mist. An anhinga speared a fish, then tossed it up so it went down his open bill. A gator lazed a few feet away, eying them. Birds screeched in the trees. Cypress knees and drapes of Spanish moss made a curtain hiding them here. So isolated. Lonely. Scary.

  Bronco spoke first. “I din’t mean to hurt you, but you can’t be sayin’ I hurt Lola or thinkin’ I killed Miss Francine. I can’t let you tell the lawyer or the police that.”

  Didn’t he realize that by running, he looked guilty, of something, at least?

  She moved as far away from him in the boat as she could, sitting on the blunt prow. Despite that gator, she’d leap into the water if he produced a knife or made a move toward her. She felt so utterly alone and vulnerable out here. She tried to stop shaking and to steady her thoughts and voice.

  “I was only asking if you knew what her sister was claiming. I wanted to hear your side of it. I’m sorry if I surprised you with that information about William Richards’s death, but I knew you would want to know what Francine had written in her diary.”

  “’Cause he was hanged—and Lola, too—you think I did it?” he repeated. “And maybe hurt Miss Francine, too? Now why would I do anything to either of them? ’Cause they was good to me.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. My point exactly. Since Miss Francine was good to Lola, I think you must have been good to both of them.”

  “Well, I wasn’t. And I’m sorry.”

  Claire’s heart pounded. Dear God, was he going to confess and then kill her? Drown her? Hang her from this big cypress tree limb overhead with that rope he’d so carefully coiled in the bottom of the boat? He’d have to go on the run then, but he knew this river and land and he had a damn good start.

  She waited for him to say more, fighting to keep control of her own body language when she wanted to jump for the bank and flee. But this was his territory. He’d chase her, get her.

  “See, I had a big fight with Lola, no matter how much I—I loved her. Miss Francine scolded me bad for that. Then the night Lola died, I went to see her again—”

  A whack, whack sound echoed overhead. Ibis in the tree flew out. They both looked up. A helicopter was low, following the river. Bronco frowned and started the motor to push them back farther under the tree cover.

  Was this her chance? Despite the gators, jump into the river to wave to the chopper? Was it here looking for her, for them?

  “Stay put,” Bronco shouted, “’cause I’m not done yet.”

  To Claire’s dismay, the chopper pivoted almost overhead, then kept going, low, dipping now and then. Yes, Nick must have sent for help. But what did Bronco mean he wasn’t done yet?

  Once the chopper noise became a mere buzz, she said, “Bronco, I don’t think you killed Lola or Miss Francine. But if you don’t take me back or at least let me go, people might think that. Tell me what happened so I can help you, support you. My job is to learn what people really think and explain that to others.”

  “To your lawyer and the cops?”

  “To anyone I have to.”

  “Really, Miss Jasmine’s the one in big trouble, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, but we hope to help her, too.”

  “Help her by accusin’ me?”

  “Absolutely not. You know you are important to Shadowlawn, and she knows that. You, in your own way, are just as important as your ancestor William was. He helped build the plantation through overseeing the indigo, then fell in love with someone he should not have. But Miss Rosalynn obviously loved him, too.”

  “Like Lola did me. But Miss Rosalynn let him have her, if she carried his child.”

  “So that’s what you argued about with Lola?”

  “She said, let me make you a puppet so you can take a photo of your relative that got hanged. But when Miss Jasmine told her he got hanged for murdering someone, she got real upset.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t blame you for something that happened to other people long ago. I don’t blame you now—for anything. But since you understand the power of love, I hope you will understand that I have a little girl who needs me. Her father lives away and she’s missing me, so I hope you’ll let me go. If you say you didn’t harm Lola or Miss Francine, that’s what will be in my report.”

  “I can’t go back. They’ll say I kidnapped you, that I hurt Lola no matter what you tell them. I can’t go back to Shadowlawn.”

  “Just put me out where I can walk back on the road and be on your way then. Or, if you want to come back with me and state your case, part of my job is testifying in court and—”

  “No court! Oh, hell, I got to get rid of you one way or the other now!”

  * * *

  Nick was so distraught he had trouble focusing. He was grateful to Win for driving him from place to place. Twice police cars had passed them on the road, lights flashing but no sirens. A storm was closing in. This was a nightmare. Claire had suffered from them for years, but this one was real and it was his.

  He would have picked Neil over Bronco, if someone at Shadowlawn was guilty. But Bronco had the connection to Lola. How easy it must have been for the big man to lift her into that noose. Claire was slender, too. Damn, he was tormenting himself, when he had to hold it together. Where was she in this labyrinth of dangerous river?

  “One more place to look I can think of.” Win’s voice cut through his agonizing. “We’ll have to hike back in a ways. I’ve got two more light poles in back. We’d better carry them because I spotted copperheads around there when I was working.”

  “Thanks, Win, for sticking with me through this. Gators, snakes—and Bronco. Anything to find her.”

  “I understand your fear,” he said. “Bronco must have killed two women already. I understand.”

  25

  “Look,” Bronco said, suddenly distracted. He pointed at the river. “A snake in the water.”

  Better than a snake in the grass, Claire’s frenzied mind chattered at her as she glanced at the sinuous swim of a long snake. She was feeling dizzy and sick to her stomach, close to losing control. But she had to hang on, keep him talking, stall for time. With gators and snakes swimming past, what were her options about diving in and making it to the other bank?

  “You know, I do good things,” Bronco told her. He leaned back against his elevated seat instead of standing, but he still seemed to tower over her.

  “I know you do. You have meant a lot to Shadowlawn and Miss Jasmine, just as you did to Miss Francine.”

  “She was kinda a loner like me, Miss Francine. Was on a lot of committees, had friends, even men friends from time to time, but I think she really felt alone. Tell you the truth, she didn’t get along with Miss Jasmine that great.”

  Thank God, Claire thought, he’d calmed down some. If she only had Heck here to jot all this down for her interview logs. She needed to keep Bronco on things that didn’t set him off. As badly as she wanted information from him, she had to let the police interview him now, because, surely, he must have hurt at least Lola.

  “So what kind of snake is that?” she asked, trying to sound interested.

  “Not the kind I been huntin’ in the Glades down by where you live, that’s sure.”

  “Were you part of that python hunt? I can’t believe someone let their pets loose, and they’re breeding like—”

  “Like pythons. Yeah, I been volunteerin’ with the so-called Swamp Apes patrol that’s tryin’ to keep Burmese Pythons from takin’ over. Now you’re thinkin’ Swamp Ape’s a good name for me.”

  “I’m not. I’m thinking that’s a helpful and brave thing to do.”

  He nodded as if they were having a chat on Everglades conservation. “Those snakes are a-killin’ native birds and mammals, gonna be movin’ into people’s backyards, changin’ the balance of nature, like
they say. You just keep a close eye on your daughter if she’s out playing.”

  A ray of hope! “Oh, yes, I will,” she said. “I’d like to head home tomorrow to do just that.”

  Claire’s heartbeat kicked up again as he leaned closer. “That’s what scares me ’bout Shadowlawn, see?” he went on as if he hadn’t heard what she’d just said. “If Miss Francine woulda sold it, that upsets the balance of everything, the way it’s been for years. But some snake should not have killed her—if she didn’t mess up her own medicine. I wish’t I’d been there to call for help, rush her to the doctor, something.”

  For one moment, Claire almost forgot her own predicament. This man was not all on the surface, as Win had said. Bronco had used the word snake as a symbol. He saw a connection between upheaval in nature and at Shadowlawn. One moment she was certain he had killed Lola and Francine; the next, she was sure he would never have done that, however much he’d argued with Lola and been upset with Francine. He simply loved Shadowlawn and had a strong emotional tie to his ancestor who had died there so tragically.

  Just when it started to rain, she heard the helicopter coming back. It would never spot them under these trees, and its thwack-thwack was a dead giveaway that might set Bronco off again. She had to risk all. Now or never, but her strength was not in running fast like Cecilia. She had to use words, meager, feeble words.

  “Bronco, if you take me back, I’ll say we had an argument and you just thought it would be better if we talked away from the plantation.”

  “Nick Markwood was spyin’ on us, wasn’t he, so he’ll know better.”

  Claire’s stomach knotted even tighter, but she had to keep going with this.

  “You need to let Nick help you. A good lawyer like Nick knows that just because someone argues with a person like you did with Lola or scolds a person, like Miss Francine scolded you, that hardly leads to murder. Of all the people I’ve talked to who would have access to Miss Francine’s medicine to make her overdose, your duties outside of the mansion make you last on the list.”

  “You don’t think Lola did it!”

  “No, I don’t. They were close, and Francine had helped her and Cecilia buy the Party Puppets Shop.”

  “If you’re tryin’ to clear Jasmine, who’s left? Monster-lover Neil?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but you can help us, if you’ll just take me back.”

  Huge raindrops bounced off the leaves over them, then started to get them wet. But Bronco nodded, ignoring both the chopper noise and the rain. He said, “Not counting Lola, Neil, even Dr. Jackson were closer to Miss Francine and her medicine than me.”

  “Win Jackson? Because she let him take pictures at Shadowlawn?”

  “No, it was more than business. Told you she had men friends. He was one until she ended it, I think, kinda like me and Lola. It made her sad.”

  “So sad she might have killed herself?”

  “I thought of that. Plus her and Miss Jasmine havin’ problems, so could be. But don’t think she would have done that ’til she saw to Shadowlawn’s future.”

  Claire’s brain went into overdrive again. Win and Francine in an aborted romance? He was younger than her, but so what? They had interests in common, had served on committees and charities together. It didn’t mean anything, except that Win had never mentioned that, nor had Jasmine. Why had that not come up? Had Jasmine even known? If she had, would that have worried or upset her?

  Claire blinked rain from her eyelashes and slowly, carefully swiped water from her face, so she wasn’t making any sudden movements. But she felt she was crying, even that the sky was crying.

  “Bronco, you are a good man. I’ll tell them what you’ve told me, but you need to tell them, too.”

  “Don’t trust cops, not lawyers neither, but Markwood gave me some good advice.”

  “He did, and he can help now when we explain things to him. He advised you not to go along with Neil and play the monster—and you don’t want to play the monster today. Take me back, and that mere fact you’ve returned me will show them your good heart. Shadowlawn needs your help, and I do, too. Let’s do everything we can to find who hurt Lola and Miss Francine, and we can’t do that if I’m dead and you’re on the run.”

  “Dead?” he said, looking shocked. “I was just goin’ to leave you somewheres here and keep goin’, hide out in the Glades down south. I didn’t and I won’t kill no one!”

  Despite it all, in that moment, she believed him.

  “So let’s head back and convince everyone of that,” she told him as the skies absolutely opened up to pour rain.

  The sound of the helicopter faded as it headed back toward Shadowlawn. Rain came straight down, thudding into the river while thunder rumbled. Why, when she had thought he might take her back, did this have to happen? And what would he do when he had a few moments more to think?

  As the bottom of the boat filled with rain, she sat down in it and feebly bailed water with her cupped hands. At least the deluge disguised her tears. Bronco began to bail with a tin coffee can. She prayed the lightning wouldn’t hit the tree over them, that their sitting in the water wouldn’t fry them. She pictured Lexi and sent her love silently to her. She hoped that Nick wasn’t losing his temper. And she prayed most fervently that she wouldn’t lose her life out here one way or the other.

  * * *

  Nick and Win sat in Win’s SUV while the rain pummeled it. They were at their third stop, but the downpour had kept them from getting out. Except when he’d found his father shot in the head with a gun in his hand, Nick had never been more distraught, and he was trying desperately to hold himself together. He was usually good under pressure, but not now. He was so scared he couldn’t think straight.

  “Deluges like this don’t last long,” Win said. “Can’t see a damned thing. I hope we don’t get mired in this turnoff.”

  “I still can’t believe this is happening. Claire convinced me to let her talk to Bronco about what happened to his ancestor, why he was hanged, that’s all.”

  “I hope she was going to work up to how Lola Moran was hanged. How did she find out about that tragic history? That old diary of Francine’s?” He turned toward Nick with one hand still at the top of the steering wheel.

  “Yeah. It’s in bad shape, but yeah. I’ve got it here in her purse, but the trouble is, her meds are here, too.”

  “Jasmine mentioned that Claire has narcolepsy. I know that needs heavy medication. Will she be all right without her drugs?”

  “She’ll be okay for a while,” Nick tried to assure himself as well as Win. He’d left her purse on the floor of the seat behind him. He ran his hands up over his face and through his hair. “Until tonight, when she needs the heavy hitter liquid one, I think.”

  Slowly, as they sat there in silence, the rain let up.

  Nick said, “Maybe you should back out onto the pavement so you don’t get stuck here. I’ve got to go check this last spot, hope to see something. They may have stopped in the rain.” He got out. Win had gone with him at the other stops, but he just nodded.

  “Take that pole in case of snakes again,” he called so Nick opened the back door and took one from the seat.

  As Win backed out and waited along the road with his emergency lights blinking, Nick slogged through muck and water over his ankles. Saw grass snagged at his pants and cut his ankles. Stabbing their long beaks in the ground, a group of ibis already poked around for food. Warily watching for snakes, Nick held the pole in front of him like a weapon. Where was that river?

  He saw it through the trees and then the miracle of his life. A gift from God! He glimpsed Claire sitting in the airboat and Bronco, both bailing water on this side of the river. Was he hallucinating? Dreaming? Should he call out to them, sneak up on them—no, they’d see him first.

  Suddenly Bronco turned and spotted
him. “Well, look who’s here,” he said, as if this were some sort of Survivor TV show and Nick had just won.

  “Oh, Nick, thank heavens you’re here,” she called to him. She didn’t sound like herself; her voice was shrill. “Bronco’s going to need a lawyer, so we hope you’re willing to help out. He argued with Lola and Miss Francine scolded him but he didn’t hurt either of them, and I believe him.”

  Nick was still stunned. Wasn’t sure he could even speak.

  Claire went on, “There’s room for you in the airboat, and we can plan our strategy on the way back. All right, Bronco?”

  To Nick’s utter amazement, the big man nodded. “You drive out here on the road?” he asked Nick.

  Hell, he must be dreaming, Nick thought. Had Beauty tamed the Beast?

  “Ah—Win brought me, let me off, thought you two might have had engine trouble or a problem in the rain.” Well, sometimes lawyers lied, but he felt he was really over the edge now.

  “You send up that chopper?” Bronco asked.

  “I was hoping they could spot you and that you hadn’t had an accident. Gators and all—I know it can be dangerous out here,” he stumbled on, sounding like an idiot, but this was so unreal.

  “Dr. Jackson doesn’t like to wait for anything,” Bronco said with a shake of his head. “But just walk out on the tree roots there and get in. You can send someone for him when we get back. We’d better go ’fore it rains again or that chopper wastes more gas.”

  And more of his money, Nick thought. But he didn’t care. Claire was all right. Bronco was calm, and Win had helped out. He’d just step away a second and motion to him to head home. All was well unless Bronco planned something dire on their way back. But then, wouldn’t Claire sense that, manage to make everything all right? As awful, dangerous and insane as all this was, he realized he needed her in more ways than one.

  * * *

  Jace phoned Claire’s cell from Singapore. Three times and it still wasn’t a charm. Each time, he got only her voice mail. The second time, he’d thought she picked up and heard breathing, but he must have been wrong. Finally, he decided to leave a message. She’d see who had called anyway.