by Mary Maxwell
I slowed the car, turned carefully onto a slender gravel road and followed it through the trees for about half a mile. When I came to the end, I saw a two-story log cabin with a dark green metal roof and burgundy shutters. The hand-hewn wooden bench on the front porch was empty and it looked like heavy draperies covered all of the windows.
I left my car and walked toward the cabin. A frosty breeze swirled in from the north along with thick, leaden clouds. They’d predicted snow by morning and the sky seemed to indicate that the forecast would hold.
As I reached the steps that lead to the porch, something caught my eye on the north side of the property. It was a dirt driveway that curved around the cabin and appeared to be etched with fresh tire tracks.
“One quick peek,” I said to myself.
I crossed the grass in front of the cabin, stepped onto the narrow expanse of dirt and made my way slowly toward the back. When I passed the corner of the building, I saw a freshly-painted red barn with both doors open wide. Parked just inside the structure was a Cadillac Escalade bearing Walter Shipp’s vanity plate: MONEYI$GOOD.
“Bingo,” I said. “His master’s chariot.”
I glanced around quickly before moving closer. My hand instinctively slipped into my purse. As my fingers closed around the grip of my gun, I stepped into the barn. I paused briefly to let my eyes adjust to the dim shadows. When I felt confident that I was alone, I inched forward along the side of the SUV. The front passenger window was down, so I crept nearer and peered inside. I saw three items on the front seat: a blood-soaked white towel, an open box of bandages and an empty Starbucks cup with a name written on the side in green ink: SONYA.
“Well, there we go,” I whispered to myself. “We have a contestant.”
I didn’t see anything else in the front seat, so I took a couple of steps forward and put my hand on the hood. It was stone cold; the SUV hadn’t been driven recently. I walked slowly around the front of the Cadillac for a quick inspection of the barn. As I circled through the swarm of gloomy shadows, I didn’t see anything more than cardboard boxes, a rusted lawn mower and a pile of broken clay pots.
When I returned to the open barn door, I stopped to call Trent. But as I pulled out my phone, I quickly discovered that wasn’t going to happen.
“No service?” I muttered. “At a time like this?”
Slipping the useless device back into my purse, I left the barn and retraced my steps along the narrow dirt driveway. As I neared the front of the cabin, I heard something in the distance. I stopped again, holding my breath and listening intently. At first, there was nothing but the clatter of tree branches clicking in the breeze, but then I heard the sound again.
It was a car crunching along the gravel drive from the road toward Walter’s cabin. I rushed forward, peered around the corner and gauged the distance between my car and where I was standing. I didn’t think there was enough time to make a run for it, so I decided to sit tight. At least I could see the newcomers from where I was hiding before they saw me.
My pulse began to gallop as a bright red sedan came into view. I didn’t recognize the car, but it had Colorado plates. As it stopped in front of the cabin, I wasn’t surprised when I saw the driver’s face.
“Well, if it isn’t Abe Waterhouse,” I murmured. “And it looks like he—”
A twig snapped somewhere over my shoulder. Before I could turn around, I felt the unmistakable pressure of a gun barrel against my back.
“Don’t even think about moving,” a familiar voice said.
I nodded.
“Did you tell Trent you were coming?”
I answered with a second nod as the gun pressed deeper into my flesh.
“Why am I not surprised that you showed up here?”
I took a quick breath.
“I don’t know, Pepper,” I said. “But I’d guess that’s not the last time you’re going to be surprised today.”
CHAPTER 31
Pepper’s laugh was low and rough; the guttural equivalent of a raised middle finger and a flood of profane taunts.
“You’re a clever girl,” she said, guiding me toward the rear of the cabin. “Maybe a little too clever. When you were younger, I heard all about the antics you pulled on your brother and sister. And after you went to college in Chicago, your mother would boast about how well you were doing and how many times your art won student competitions.”
While Pepper was taunting me about the past, someone called her name from the back deck. I glanced over and saw Abe Waterhouse holding a plastic bag from McDonald’s.
“I came out to tell you lunch was ready,” he announced. “But I can see that ain’t gonna happen now.”
Pepper ordered me to walk toward the cabin. “Let’s go inside, Abe,” she said with authority. “We’ll have a powwow and decide how you’re going to clean up our little mess.”
I kept my eyes on Abe. His face was stiff and lined with worry. “This wouldn’t be happening if you’d listened to me.” His voice was a long, slow hiss. “I told you we needed to get the hell out of here, Pepper.”
“And I told you to go inside,” she replied.
Abe’s eyes burned with contempt as he and Pepper held their intractable positions for a few uneasy seconds. I listened to her slow and steady breathing, knowing that she would outlast him. Then I felt an odd sense of relief as he slowly spun around, threw open the screen door and clomped inside.
“Some men are born stupid,” Pepper said.
I didn’t reply. I walked to the cabin, mounted the stairs and reached for the door.
“I’ll get that,” she said, moving around to my right. “Since you’re our guest and all.”
When we entered the kitchen, I quickly scanned the room: empty beer bottles, rutted carryout containers from Big Pig’s BBQ and a wide roll of plastic sheeting. The McDonald’s bag sat on the counter beside the sink along with a set of car keys and a few crumpled dollar bills.
“Go left,” Pepper said. “Through that door and then to the right.”
I followed her orders and came out of a short hallway into a living room furnished with a love seat and two easy chairs. A large tapestry hung on one wall depicting two deer standing in a sun-splashed meadow. The placid scene hung across from a fireplace built with river rock and framed by a pair of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
“Sit,” Pepper said. “Me and you need to have a little huddle about things.”
I took a spot at the end of the sofa.
“You thirsty?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“We’ve got a couple more bottles of Goose Island stout if you change your mind.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Pepper. I appreciate the hospitality.”
She sneered and sank into one of the chairs. “Kate, Kate, Katie-Kate.” She put the hand holding the revolver on one thigh. “Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone?”
“Meaning?”
She snorted a laugh. “Don’t be stupid, hon. You know what I mean; turning up here just now and throwing a wrench in our plans.”
A loud thumping suddenly erupted from somewhere nearby. Pepper grumbled to herself, got up from the chair and walked to the far end of the living room. She pounded on the wall, cursed quietly and then returned to the chair.
“Walter Shipp,” she announced casually. “He’s got more fire in his belly than I imagined.”
“He’s in the next room?”
Her eyes hardened. “He’s fine, Kate.” She paused long enough for a malevolent grin to come and go. “At least, he’s fine for the time being.”
“What is this, Pepper? What are you doing?”
“Talking to you,” she said.
“Why did you do this to Walter?” I asked. “Was it about the money you lost?”
She leered at me irritably. “I didn’t lose it, Kate. That was all his doing. And he didn’t lose it either. He spent it. On expensive art and trips to Las Vegas and a conga line of loose women.”
A palpa
ble rage twined between the words, a smoldering fury that I hadn’t expected from Pepper. In all the years that she and my mother were friends, I never once heard anything about the woman being angry or quick-tempered or merciless. But now, in the hush of the isolated cabin, I was beginning to suspect that she was capable of much more than I’d ever imagined.
“So?” I said as she picked at the knee of her jeans. “What’s next? How do you think this is going to play out for you guys?”
“I’ll tell you this, Kate,” she said slowly. “Our plans certainly didn’t include you.”
I nodded. “Sorry to gum up the works, Pepper.”
She sat forward in the chair, one hand still on the gun. “He robbed us blind,” she said. “When we invested our money with Walter Shipp, he knew it was a Ponzi scheme. He planned for it all along. And guess what? For a while, it worked. We believed the bogus statements. We believed the bull malarkey he fed us whenever we had qualms about how things were going. And then—”
The thumping resumed in the next room. Pepper heaved a sigh, got up from the chair again and pounded on the wall.
“Abe!” she screamed. “If you can’t keep that bastard quiet, the first bullet’s got your name on it!”
CHAPTER 32
I waited until Pepper was back in her chair before I asked what she planned to do next.
“Kate?” she said softly.
“Yes?”
“Just shut up, okay?”
I smiled. “Maybe I can help.”
Her eyes, wide and motionless, looked like two black buttons against a fresh blanket of snow. “Nobody can help now that you showed up,” she said. “We’d just about figured out how to deal with this…” She looked down at the floor, tracing aimless loops across the horizontal bands of a faded Navajo rug. “This isn’t something you’ll ever understand, Kate. I mean, I don’t think we even fully comprehend what’s—”
“Pepper?”
We were both surprised by Abe’s voice. He’d walked into the room so quietly that neither of us had heard him.
“What?” she said coldly.
“I saw plumes of dust,” he reported. “On the road down toward the reservoir.”
Pepper nodded, considering the news. “Well, Abe,” she said finally. “It’s a free country. People have the right to drive around.”
He glared at her, angry and defiant. “I mean to say, somebody could be coming.”
Pepper raised one eyebrow. “Then I guess we should probably wrap things up, huh?”
The question left Abe speechless for a few seconds. “It could be the cops,” he said. “Don’t you think we should—”
Pepper raised the pistol. “Just go in there with Fric and Frac. Sonya should be here soon. If we’re going on the road, it’d be smarter to go together.”
Abe’s eyes drifted from Pepper to me and then back again. “What about her?” he asked.
Pepper shrugged. “I’m working on that.”
We sat together in the quiet misery; Pepper’s eyes trained once again at her feet and mine holding vigil until she glanced up. When a car door slammed outside, she jumped up and ran to the window.
“Moron,” she muttered. “I knew she’d go anyway.”
There was a muted knock on the front door before it opened to reveal Sonya Lipton. She had shopping bags from Bliss Boutique hanging from one hand and a small suitcase clutched in the other.
“I told you not to do that,” Pepper said firmly.
“Well, I don’t give two shakes!” Sonya was followed into the room by a gust of wind spiked with Chanel No. 5. “If I’m leaving town, I needed at least one change of clothes.” She left the shopping bags and suitcase beside the door. “And if you want to—”
Her mouth fell open when she finally noticed me on the other side of the room.
“What is she doing here?”
“That is such a good question,” Pepper said.
Sonya skewered me with a venomous glare. “Well?”
I shrugged. “Right place,” I said, “but the wrong time?”
“Just go in there with Abe,” Pepper commanded. “I’ll figure out what we’re going to do.”
I watched as Sonya’s pale fingers slowly formed a pair of tiny fists. “This is your fault,” she seethed, staring at Pepper. “I’m the one who said we should’ve taken Abe right to Albuquerque and have my brother scare some sense into him. But did you listen to me? No! You got all high and mighty, telling us that—”
Walter thumped again in the next room.
“Damn it, Sonya!” Pepper shouted. “Just go in there and calm him down!”
“I will not!” the other woman shrieked. “I’m done being your little servant girl, Pepper. If Ivy hadn’t asked me to get you involved, we’d be finished with this by now.”
I nodded at the sound of Ivy Minkler’s name. I didn’t know how all the pieces fit together yet, but it was becoming readily apparent that I was on the right track with my theory of a conspiracy seeking revenge on Walter Shipp for the Ponzi scheme.
Another series of loud thuds came through the wall.
“Really, Sonya?” Pepper snapped. “You think this is a good time to get into that?”
Before Sonya could reply, Pepper waved the revolver in a lazy arc through the air.
“So, you’re gonna shoot me now?” Sonya sounded simultaneously rebellious and confused. “Is that any way to treat a friend?”
There was a flicker of pure evil in Pepper’s eyes. But then she lowered the weapon and forced a nearly believable smile. “Heavens, no,” she said. “I’m just ready to be done with all of this…mess. I’m ready to sit Walter down at the computer and watch while he transfers the—”
“Pepper?”
It was Abe again, looking remorseful.
“For the love of Pete!” Pepper shook her head. “What is it, you idiot?”
“The girl needs to use the little girls’ room,” he answered.
A strangled sigh escaped from Pepper’s frown. “Then take her down the hall, Abe.”
“I’ll do it,” Sonya said, executing a slow-motion pirouette toward where Abe stood. “And then we can hit the road. I made reservations at the La Quinta in Moab like you asked, but we need to be there by eleven or the rooms won’t be guaranteed.”
After Abe and Sonya were gone, Pepper returned to the seat facing me. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes, so I listened to the sounds of doors opening and closing on the other side of the cabin.
“Was he referring to Annabeth Summerfield?” I asked when it seemed like her breathing had returned to normal.
“Say what?”
“Annabeth Summerfield,” I repeated. “Was Abe talking about her when he—”
“Yes!” Pepper said. “Another moron who got in our way. She was at Walter’s the other day when Sonya and I arrived. We played it as simple as we could for as long as possible, but then we had to make a move. I told her that we—”
“You mean Annabeth?”
Pepper groaned. “Who else could I be talking about, Kate? Yes, I mean Annabeth. We told her that she and her idiotic brother had been like a fortuitous gift of destiny, bringing their creepy little death threat act to Crescent Creek at the same time that…” She stopped and smiled. “Why am I telling you all of this? You don’t need to know any of the who, what, where, when or how details.”
“True,” I said. “But I’d already started to put the pieces together.” I held her gaze for a moment. “And there’s no chance you’ll get away with whatever it is you’re going to do next.”
She laughed. “Oh, really? What is this? Patty Cake Pie Dough playing Nancy Drew again?”
“Cute, Pepper. But you know I’m right; Trent Walsh is tracking the same clues. He’s got a patrol car checking the identical list of vacant cabins and houses that I was working from.”
The fuse that had been burning slowly in Pepper’s eyes suddenly flared into a furious rage. She slammed her empty hand against the arm of the ch
air.
“I don’t care what you think, Kate! Walter’s going to pay! He screwed us out of everything we had.” She paused for a moment, thinking about the claim. “Well, almost everything I suppose. And the proposal we had for him was simple, really. He’d transfer whatever he had left in the bank into my account. I’d divvy it up amongst the four of us and—”
“That’s you, Sonya, Abe and Ivy?”
In the brief moment while Pepper considered my question, the room was still enough for me to hear the muffled sound of tires on gravel in front of the cabin.
“Tell you what, Kate,” said Pepper. “If you promise to stop being so nosy, I’ll promise to stop…” She paused when footsteps echoed toward us from the hallway.
“Pepper!” Abe screamed as he came back into view. “I told you somebody was coming up the road!”
The piercing squelch of a megaphone confirmed his hypothesis.
“Attention! Attention!” called the distorted voice of Amanda Crane. “This is the Crescent Creek Police—” The megaphone squawked with shrill feedback. “—Police Department! And we’ve surrounded the cabin. You all should just come on out now, okay?”
Pepper walked to the door, went up on her tiptoes and looked through the peephole. “Oh, for the love of—”
“Attention! Attention!” Amanda repeated. “This is the Crescent Creek Police Department!”
Pepper punched the wall with her fist. “Does she think we’re all deaf?”
“I’m going out there, Pepper.” Abe walked toward the door. “I’m not dying on account of you screwed this up.”
Pepper raised the revolver. “Hell you are, Abe. Get back in there and—
“Attention! Attention!” Amanda called a third time. “This is the Crescent Creek Police Department! We’ve surrounded the cabin, and—”
Pepper suddenly jerked open the front door, stepped into the dust-flecked rivulets of pale sunlight and pressed her face against the screen.
