Ellie laughed. “Town gossip, you mean.”
She turned the SUV down a long dirt lane lined with evergreen forest on both sides. An ancient two-story farmhouse stood majestically at the end of the tunnel created by the tall snow-topped pines. The fence that lined the lane looked new. The structures that came into view, though antebellum constructed, appeared freshly painted and squarely built.
“This is a nice spread,” Rainey commented.
Ellie seemed to enjoy speaking of her new home. She chattered proudly, “The house was originally built in the early 1850s by Adolphus Read, my late husband Burgess’s great-great-great-grandfather. Old man Read, Burgess’s grandfather, did a lot of rebuilding and preservation. He kept up the maintenance on all the buildings. When I took it over in November, I had the interior updated, but I left the exterior as it is. A fresh coat of paint and the old girl looks good as new. I moved into the house in January this year. I’ve still have boxes to unpack up on the second floor.”
When she finally took a break to breathe, Rainey said, “It’s like an era, frozen in time. You don’t see houses like this much anymore. Not in this shape anyway.”
“I blew my chance at the National Historic Registry when I remodeled the interior, but I’m going to be here a long time, and I’d rather be warm and comfortable, than historically correct.”
“I can understand that,” Rainey said, as the SUV came to a stop at the side of the house.
Ellie looked over at Rainey. “Well, sorry it’s under these circumstances, but welcome to my home.”
Rainey kicked the still clinging bits of snow from her boots and the hem of her jeans before following Ellie through the side door.
“We can take our shoes off in the mud room and I have a pair of Burgess’s old sweat pants you can change into. I’ll throw your jeans and socks in the dryer. It shouldn’t take long.”
Rainey sat on a bench in the mudroom untying her boots, across from the brand new washer and dryer. She had only seen this room, but could already tell Ellie sank some money into the old house.
Ellie dug through a box inside a utility closet and reappeared with a pair of gray sweatpants.
“I knew I had a pair left. Here you go. You can change in the powder room there.” She pointed at a door in the corner of the room. “I’ll go make us some coffee. Just come on through this door and you’re in my kitchen,” she said and then exited out of sight.
Rainey finished taking off her boots, contemplated not changing out of her jeans, but then decided they were just too wet to sit around in for an hour. Ten minutes in the dryer and they would be much more comfortable, the socks too. Once in the little powder room, Rainey realized she had a dilemma. Without the jeans, she had nowhere to hook her holster. The Glock was too heavy and pulled the waistband down when she tried attaching it to the sweatpants. With the wet jeans and socks in one hand and the Glock and holster in the other, Rainey exited the powder room to find Ellie waiting for her.
Ellie saw the Glock and twisted up her face. “Uh, I don’t allow guns in my house.”
Rainey was thinking she’d just put her jeans back on, because she never let her weapon out of sight, but Ellie took the jeans from her hand before Rainey could suggest that she would redress and wait on the porch.
“Just stick it in your coat pocket for now. As long as I don’t see it, I’ll be fine,” Ellie said, while throwing Rainey’s clothes in the dryer. “I don’t know how much you know about me, but since Skylar said you were an FBI agent investigating ‘the list,’ I’m guessing you know about my parents’ murder.”
Rainey decided to cooperate, mainly because Ellie had her jeans and socks. She stepped over to the peg on the wall, where she’d hung her coat when they entered, and stuck the weapon in one of the pockets.
“I’m aware of what happened,” Rainey answered. “But I’m not an FBI agent anymore. I retired early.”
“Good,” Ellie said, “I’m glad the FBI isn’t wasting time looking into a bunch of accidents. I told Wellman I thought he was crazy. Why would anyone spend time killing people associated with me? Graham was the only one who wanted me to suffer and he’s gone, replaced by someone that doesn’t have a clue who I am.”
Rainey followed Ellie into the kitchen, and asked, “Why do you think Graham Colde came to your house that morning?”
“He needed his dad’s rifle to do what he was planning, I guess. The only good thing that came out of that tragedy was my dad. He woke up and tried to stop Graham. People say I’m a hero, because I shot Graham and stopped him from killing the people on his list, but it was my dad that alerted us to trouble. He was the hero and died trying to save us all.”
“So, you believe Graham was going to kill the people on the list.”
“Yes, he was angry with all of us for one reason or another. I’m just glad I stopped him.”
She handed Rainey a cup of steaming coffee, retrieving it from the single serve coffee maker on the counter, and dropped another plastic coffee filled cup into the machine. The coffee maker began to gurgle and spit a stream of hot liquid into Ellie’s waiting cup. The kitchen was in the corner of an open floor plan. Ellie had knocked out the old walls and created a large room on the first floor. The interior of the old farmhouse resembled a New York loft apartment, with modern appliances and industrial design elements.
“I would have never guessed this was what the interior of the house looked like,” Rainey commented.
Ellie smiled. “I loved the old house, but a girl needs her modern amenities. Come on, I’ll give you the tour.”
Again, Rainey wasn’t asked, but told to follow Ellie, which she did. She sipped the coffee and trailed behind her, as Ellie showed her the entire house, ending with pointing through the French doors to the new redwood sauna on the back deck. By the time they were through, Rainey had finished the coffee and Ellie went to the kitchen to make another.
“Sit down at the table there,” Ellie said, pointing at an old barn door converted to a tabletop.
Rainey sat down peered through the French doors to the woods beyond. “I’m turned around here. Which way is it to the sandpit where Mr. Wise was shot?”
Ellie came to the table with Rainey’s coffee and her own. She pointed through the glass in the doors. “See that path cut in the woods. That will take you there if you know where you’re going. I got lost in there for a couple of hours when I first came back. The trails go off in several directions. Now that I know the way, I can make it to the sandpit in about an hour at a leisurely walking pace. It’s a nice hike and I do it every morning, unless the weather is bad, like today.”
“I was told you’ve been hearing rifle shots.”
Ellie sat across from Rainey. “People use the sand hills in those woods for target practice. It’s safer than firing at a can in the backyard.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?” Rainey asked.
“No, I grew up with guns. I just don’t want them in my house. You can understand that, right?”
“Yes, it’s perfectly reasonable.”
“And those accidents Wellman was convinced were murders meant to hurt me, I just don’t believe it. Cassie would eat any kind of pill. Ely was a drunk. Burgess did a stupid thing, eating something he wasn’t sure was safe. And Adam probably disappeared on purpose. He was always nuts anyway.”
The house was warm, too warm. Rainey stood up. “I need to take off this sweatshirt. I’m overdressed.”
“It is hot in here. Make yourself comfortable,” Ellie said, and then winked. “We can get real comfortable, if you’re so inclined.”
Rainey stopped halfway through pulling off the sweatshirt and stared at Ellie. “I’m not inclined,” she said. “I’m married.”
Ellie openly flirted. “Well, it never hurts to ask.”
Rainey removed the sweatshirt and placed it on the next chair over and resumed her seat. “I’m flattered, but committed. I don’t sleep around on my wife.”
“That’s commendable, but boring,”
Ellie said, punctuated with laughter.
Rainey recognized Ellie’s kind, a woman whose self-worth was wrapped up in her sexuality. These women and men confused lust with emotion, sadly chasing the rush found in the beginning of a physical attraction that can never last. A conversation not involving sexual innuendo or outright advances was rare with this type, because they were constantly seeking the next fix. Ellie was as much an addict as Skylar. Rainey found them both boring.
She grinned at the sexy young blonde, fifteen years her junior, and said, “Sport fucking has its place and time in a person’s life. Mine has passed.”
Ellie leaned forward, exposing cleavage on purpose. She appeared to find Rainey a challenge and it excited her. Rainey could see it in those big blue eyes, while Ellie tried to use them as a weapon to pierce her prey’s defenses.
“You’re married, you’re not dead. I don’t see a thing wrong with seeking pleasure from outside a marriage. Suppose your fantasies aren’t compatible with your spouse’s. As long as no one gets hurt, what’s the harm?”
“I suppose if all parties involved are in agreement, then you’re right, but it’s exceedingly rare when those agreements remain intact. Someone usually upsets the balance and the whole house of cards comes crumbling down.” Rainey leaned in, unafraid of the vixen’s powers. It was time to stop this conversation. “I am married and not dead, as you say, but my wife fulfills my fantasies, which include a committed relationship and a family I adore. Risk that for a piece of young, pretty, tight, southern ass? Well, I guess you haven’t seen my wife.”
Ellie was undaunted. “Maybe you have fantasies you haven’t even thought of? Variety is the spice of life. I could teach you a few things to do to that wife of yours.”
This was how people got in trouble. They listened to the courting coos, fell for the colorful plumage, not to mention the excitement of forbidden fruit. At some point the first small boundary was crossed, which made crossing the next one so much easier. Rainey had no interest in this young woman, or any woman other than the one to which she was married, but she could see how Ellie could get less committed individuals to bite the bait.
“While there are plenty of people who would take you up on that offer, I’m not one of them. So, please, if you would, drop the come on.”
Ellie’s facial expression flattened for a moment, but then she smiled. “Wouldn’t you know the hottest thing to come through Hominy Junction in months is happily married. A mother of three that can hold a spouse’s attention—she must be one hell of a woman. How fortunate for you.”
The overt sexual come-on had not worked, so apparently Ellie was going for the “you must be so underappreciated because your wife is busy with the kids” angle. This chick was a piece of work. Rainey gave Ellie a thin smile, while thinking of throwing her outside to cool off. She was stuck in this woman’s house for at least an hour. She did not want to spend it fending off sexual advances. Rainey was about to attempt a change of subject again, when the doorbell rang.
Ellie stood up. “Well, that was fast. I didn’t hear him pull up.” She batted her eyelashes at Rainey. “I guess I was distracted. Let me get him to come around to the side door. I know Bart. He’s covered in mud, I’m sure.”
Ellie headed for the mudroom. Rainey finished her coffee, grabbed her sweatshirt, and followed. Ellie was already outside when she entered the room. Rainey could hear her muffled voice beyond the door. Rainey pulled her still slightly damp jeans and socks out of the dryer and slipped into the powder room to change. She wanted out of this house as soon as possible. This chick gave her the heebie-jeebies. Ellie was one of those vacuous women who chose to use her body as currency, buying affection and opportunities, void of any true connections beyond sexual ones. Rainey was ready to put distance between her and this woman, before she found out how far Ellie Paxton Read was willing to go to get what she wanted.
Rainey heard the side door open and hurried to get her socks on. She folded the sweatpants and left them on the back of the toilet. Her stomach lurched again and she felt the sweat glaze her skin. Damn, it was hot in that house or the kids brought home another virus from the day care at the women’s center. She splashed cold water on her face and tried to quell the woozy feeling that was creeping up on her. No way was she getting too sick to drive. Rainey was going home, even if she had to sit with one of Katie’s garbage bags in her lap. She was dressed and only needed her coat to get the hell out of that house. Leaving the hot little powder room was a start. She dried her face and opened the door, before noticing she still needed her boots and how odd to have forgotten she wasn’t wearing them.
“Hey, Rainey,” the male voice said. “Sorry you got involved in all this.”
Rainey looked up to see Theodore Suzanne standing right in front of her. Tunnel vision cloaked the room around him in darkness. Too late, Rainey realized she was falling and had no time to cushion her impact with the expensive Italian marble floor, before the room went black.
Chapter Seven
9:53 a.m.
Overcast, 35oF, Windchill 26oF
Rainey surfaced from the effects of the drug to someone trying to shove her foot into a boot.
“Don’t fight me, Rainey,” Theodore said. “You have to put on your boots.”
She tried to push him away. The drug grabbed her again. The blackness returned.
#
10:48 a.m.
Overcast, 36oF, Windchill 28.5oF
“That’s right—stick your arm in—good. Well done. Now, the other one. We have to get your coat on. You don’t want to freeze to death out there.”
Theodore tugged on Rainey’s coat, pulling the shoulders into place, as if he were dressing a life-sized doll. She could see him, or a blurred object that sounded like him. He let her slide down onto the bench, where the blackness opened its arms and pulled her down again.
#
11:51 a.m.
Overcast, 36oF, Windchill 30.3oF
“Come on, up you go. Lean on me. You don’t have to walk far. We’re just going to the van. It’s right outside.”
“I want to go home.” That’s what Rainey tried to say. It sounded more like one on the triplets trying to manage a sentence.
“Okay, then, walk with me to the van. That’s it, one foot in front of the other.”
“Call Katie,” she slurred. Rainey wasn’t aware of why she felt so out of it, but something told her she needed to call Katie.
Her focus switched to the three steps down to the ground and then the tunnel she could see through filled with the earth rising to meet her. Rainey urged her arms to thrust forward from behind her back, only to find she couldn’t move them and face down into the dirt she went.
“Whoa, come on, stand up. Just a few more feet.”
It took all the concentration Rainey had to make it to the side door of the van, where she was helped onto the floor between the bench with the babies’ car seats and the front passenger area of the vehicle. A blanket was thrown over her, bringing her dark companion for another dance with nothingness.
#
1:13 p.m.
Light Rain, 36oF, Windchill 30oF
The van door slid open again, waking Rainey from a deep disorienting sleep. Theodore pulled her into a seated position and stuck a paper cup to her lips.
“You have to drink this,” he said.
She drank because her throat was dry. She felt as if all the liquid had been drained from her body. The cold water cooled her burning mouth, but was bitter. Her brain woke up in time to see what she was doing and choked the last swallow into a cough, spewing the liquid into the air.
“Just rest, now,” he said, and pushed her back to the floor.
The van door slid shut. The darkness returned.
#
4:50 p.m.
Light Rain, 35.1oF, Windchill 28.6oF
The muffled sound of rain on a tin roof woke her. It took a few minutes to grasp her situation, but eventually Rainey’s mind cleared. She was in th
e van, inside a barn. Through the sliding door window, she could see the wood studs and the cracks between the planking. The OnStar mirror was missing from the windshield, the wires cut. Her last memory was of heading into the mudroom to retrieve her clothes from the dryer. She had done that, Rainey supposed, because she was dressed, even wearing the heavy wool coat and her boots, which was a good thing, because her breath created little puffs of fog in the cold air.
Rainey was on her side, on the floor between the seats, and covered in a blanket. Her hands were handcuffed behind her. She could break handcuffs, true, but had never successfully accomplished that with them locked in place at her back. Rainey could pick the lock without looking, but she needed a shim or a paperclip. There had to be something on the floor in the van she could use as a pick. The more her brain recovered from the drug, the faster it began to look for a way to survive. Rainey didn’t have time to wonder what happened to Ellie or who held her prisoner.
Sitting up from her prone position without the use of her arms was proving difficult. She was on top of her coat, which pulled her down each time her shoulder rose from the carpet. Not knowing how much time she had, Rainey needed to decide if the time and energy spent trying to sit up would be better used on setting her hands free. Even if she could get up, what was waiting outside the van? Rainey needed the use of her hands.
“There is always a way out, until you give up.” She heard her father’s voice in her head, reminding her to think and not panic.
Rainey scoured the floor and realized she could have eaten off the carpet it was so clean. Katie was a neat freak and the van came with a built in vacuum cleaner. She felt around on the handcuffs. Good, they were not the cheap kind. Cheap handcuffs bent under stress, and were harder to break cleanly, and took longer to escape. Expensive cuffs snapped at the weakest point. It sounded absolutely backwards, but the tempered steel on the more expensive cuffs made them brittle. Enough force and the chain or the eye that attached the chain to the cuffs would snap. Rainey would still be in cuffs, but able to move both arms freely. She simply had to get the chain on the cuffs in a bind.
Colde & Rainey (A Rainey Bell Thriller) Page 15
