Mooved to Murder

by CeeCee James

  Something was wrong. He didn’t normally go crazy like that.

  Then I heard a voice. A man’s. “Shh, Jasper. It’s me. You know me buddy.”

  I froze in mid-step, my blood turning to ice. Slowly, I pulled my phone out. Holding my breath to listen, I dialed nine and then one. My finger hovered over the final one, while my other hand reached for the pepper spray.

  Jasper did seem to recognize the man because the dog quieted down. I crept a little closer watching the forest floor for sticks that might crackle and give me away.

  “It’s all gone. Every bit of it. Where’d it go, buddy? Did she take the money? Doesn’t she know I got revenge for her death? I’m tired of being haunted. Why did she come back and haunt me, buddy?”

  I peered through the trees, their branches bare of leaves, their twiggy ends spindly black like witches fingers. Holding my breath, I ducked lower, trying to see. A red coat. Stunned, I covered my mouth.

  Sam.

  My heart slammed in my chest. Quickly, I backed up, my shoes digging into the wet leaves. At the fallen log I decided to call Officer Kennedy instead of finishing the emergency call.

  “Fancy hearing from you again,” she said. This time the sarcasm cut through like a trail of dish soap into a puddle of oil.

  “Sam Setter is at the car in the woods. He knows about the money,” I whispered. Adrenaline had me nearly gasping.

  “Chelsea?” The officer’s voice instantly became grave. “Are you in trouble? Where are you?”

  “I’m going back to the house. But he’s here at the abandoned car. He’s talking something about revenge. Can you come get him?”

  I heard her call a code out, I was assuming into her mic, and she gave an address. Then she was back on the phone. “I want you out of there. Lock your doors. Don’t come out until you hear from me again.”

  “But my dog is there with him.”

  “Sam won’t hurt the dog. Get up to the house. You being in the vicinity compromises not just your safety, but ours as well.”

  “Got it. I’m on my way.”

  “We have this handled. It’s over, Chelsea.” We hung up, and I climbed over the log.

  She said it was over. Except it wasn’t.

  At the edge of the forest, I turned around for one last look. I hoped beyond everything to see Jasper’s sweet face, that somehow he’d known I was there and followed me out.

  There was nothing but vacant space between the trees. I wanted so badly to call for the dog, but I was afraid to alert Sam.

  My heart was heavy as I trudged back through the orchard and up to the house. I swear, I’d never prayed so hard as I did for that dog.

  One thing I knew was that I needed some answers. You couldn’t send me back to the house by myself and without my dog without understanding why. I had clues, lots of them. And, like Polly, I wanted to finish the puzzle.

  I opened the door to the emptiest house that ever existed. No doggy kisses greeted me. I was scared. It was hard to trust what Officer Kennedy said.

  Pull yourself together, Chelsea.

  I sank to the foyer floor with a spiral notebook to make a list of the puzzle pieces I had.

  There was the abandoned car full of money.

  Lots of money.

  A car that might have come from McDaniel dealership, especially with the pen on the floor board. The car dealership had been run by Clint McDaniel’s father. Clint was a known partyer and trouble maker twenty-odd years ago. And then he left town for some inexplicable reason.

  Sam and Clint used to be high school friends. The Farm and Feed employee said that Sam was taking time off since he was destroyed by Clint’s death.

  Tom from the bakery told me that he felt for Sam because the poor guy’s girlfriend of his youth had been murdered. He never recovered.

  But how did all those pieces tie together?

  I stared at my list.

  Wait a minute…

  My jaw dropped open. I’d had the key all along and hadn’t realized. It was in the old news story that Sharon had told me. The one about the bank robbery in town, where the robbers had killed the teller after they had her open the vault.

  Was it so far fetched to think that Clint had robbed the bank and, in the process, killed Sam’s girlfriend?And afterwards Clint’s family, specifically Mayor McDaniel, had forced him to leave town.

  And Sam finally got his revenge when Clint recently returned to town. How did he do it? By using a tranquilizer injection from the Farm and Feed where he worked.

  Walking freely on Tilly’s property was no problem for Sam. He was friends with Jasper. The Farm and Feed employee mentioned that Sam talked about the dog all the time.

  But if Clint had robbed the bank and then been forced to leave town, why was the car—still full of money—abandoned in the woods? That didn’t make any sense. Wouldn’t Clint have taken the car when he left town?

  Further more, why was Clint in the barn at all? Was it just a coincidence that it was the same morning that Sam was supposed to be here dropping off the alfalfa?

  The questions battered me, and I couldn’t process anymore. Worry over Jasper was using all my head space and running my thoughts ragged.

  The next twenty minutes dragged by like it was three years. I didn’t move. My butt hurt from sitting on the hard floor, my back hurt, but all I could think about was Jasper.

  So when I heard barking on the front porch, I can’t explain the bolt of joy that charged through me. It was the best sound in the world. I ran to the foyer serenaded by an orchestra of nails scratching on the door. Eagerly, I flung it open.

  It was Jasper all right. Tongue lolling, happy Jasper.

  And right behind him was Sam.

  I started to slam the door shut, when the man lunged to shove it open. “Wait! Stop! I need to talk to you!”

  The movement startled Jasper who began barking again. I pushed with all my weight against the door. My feet skidded along the wood floor as Sam slowly forced me back. At the last second, I released the door and turned to run. I hoped the unexpected action would take him off guard but he was too quick. Before I’d gone two steps, his hand clamped down on my arm.

  “You’re real,” he breathed.

  “Let go of me!” I demanded. I wasn’t going to show any fear, and I wasn’t about to back down.

  His hand dropped from my arm as if it had been scalded. I took a cautious step back, my hands balled into fists. Then I remembered and pulled out my pepper spray. I held my wrist to keep my hand steady. “Get out of here!”

  He took a step back with his hands up. “Wait! Just give me a chance to explain, Denise!”

  “Stop calling me that! My name’s not Denise!”

  He recoiled as if I’d slapped him. His mouth gapped like he was trying to form words in another language.

  “I’m not Denise!” I insisted again. “My name is Chelsea.”

  This time, when he finally spoke, it was in a croak. “I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry. I’ve not been well. I—I got confused.” With that Sam turned and stumbled down the stairs.

  I lunged for Jasper’s collar when it looked like the animal might follow him, and then slammed the door, locking it tight. Then I leaned against it, heart pounding.

  I needed to call someone. 911. Officer Kennedy.

  I yanked the phone out, nearly dropping it. I tried to dial with trembling fingers. Just then I heard a ruckus out in the front yard. I ran to the window, where Jasper had already jumped on the couch. I gasped to see Sam on the ground with Officer Kennedy’s knee in the middle of his back.

  “Hands over your head!” she screamed. She soon had his hands wrestled behind him and handcuffed.

  I sank to the couch, my head hitting the cushioned back. Fingers of relief fluttered through me, feeling like chills, like weakness. I took long gulping breaths. I had no idea how the cop came to be here, but I was so, so grateful.

  A moment later, footsteps thumped up the porch steps followed immediately by pou
nding on the door. “Chelsea? Are you okay?”

  I sprang to my feet and ran to wrench it open. Seeing her face nearly undid me, and I almost collapsed into her arms for a hug.

  Her hand was on her gun, and she looked anything but huggable.

  “Thank God you’re here! How did you know he would come?”

  Officer Kennedy turned to look at Sam, who lay sprawled out on his stomach. “I had a gut feeling I needed to check on you when we got to the car and the dog wasn’t there. My intuition told me Sam might be hiding.”

  Another officer popped up from behind the barn and yet another by the mailbox.

  I wanted to kiss them all.

  Apparently Jasper felt the same because he raced over to leap up on one and then the other, and then the next, trying to give them enthusiastic puppy kisses.

  “What am I being arrested for?” Sam yelled with a face full of dirt.

  “I heard you,” I called to him. “I heard you say you got your revenge.”

  When his eyes caught mine, his bravado slipped away. “Denise. Denise. I’m so sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for, Sam?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry he killed you. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. He was supposed to just take the money and go.”

  “Clark!” yelled Officer Kennedy. “Mirandize him.” She turned back to me and closed her eyes tightly.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “No. You’re good.”

  Officer Clark stood Sam up. “You are under arrest for the murder of Clint McDonald. You have the right to remain silent.” He continued to read the rights.

  I turned to Officer Kennedy. “You have the proof?”

  “Yeah, along with a whole slew of other charges including attempted kidnapping. He’s going to be locked up for a while.”

  “I knew it! Something occurred to me today. I meant to call you.”

  “You know, Chelsea, there’s a part of me that really regrets giving you my phone number.”

  “I’m sorry. Do you want to know what it is?”

  “Please tell me.”

  There it was again. Was it sarcasm or interest? I shook my head. I’d probably never be able to read her. “So I remember when you said that Clint had died of an overdose. You specifically said it was a tranquilizer, remember.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “I do.”

  “I just found out you can buy it at the Farm and Feed where Sam works. And I heard Sam say twice that he got revenge for the death. Now we just need to prove whose death he’s talking about.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “I think we have an idea."

  I must have looked uncertain because she sighed. “Look, if you want to know, I suggest you follow his trial.” With that, she walked down the stairs and stalked over to Sam, who was still staring at me.

  And then he yelled, “I’ve wished every day that it never happened. I’ve lived it over and over. It’s been a nightmare. I hope you can forgive me.”

  He had tears in his eyes and real anguish on his dirt-smeared face. And my heart softened a touch. After all, I knew a little bit about living nightmares. I slowly lifted my hand, hoping that simple gesture was enough to give him peace. He had a long road ahead of him. I hoped this time he would find his way.

  Chapter 25

  “Come on, let’s go.” The police marched Sam down the driveway where several cop cars had appeared.

  I shut the door slowly. Bolted it and check it twice. And then I sank to the floor where Jasper rested his head in my lap. He gave a whistley dog nasal sigh.

  Sam’s last words kept ringing through my mind. “He was supposed to take the money and go. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

  Sam obviously had me confused with someone else. And it had to be the bank teller.

  It happened a long time ago, but could there be something about the bank robbery on the internet? Sharon said it had made a huge impact on the town. And a huge impact meant there had to be some sort of lasting story? Right? Even if it was over twenty years old.

  I typed in Cedar Falls, followed by the words, bank robbery. Despite my reasoning, I still was surprised when I saw there were several links. I sucked in an excited breath, and Jasper looked up with concerned eyebrows. I rubbed them down. “It’s okay, buddy. I’m looking to see what this is all about. Don’t you want to know? I know I do.”

  He rested his head on my knee after sniffing my phone. Apparently, he wanted to see as well.

  I clicked the first link.

  It opened to a grainy photo. Someone had take a shot of the original newspaper article and then uploaded it. The headline was blatant and to the point.

  Teller Murdered in Bank Robbery Gone Wrong.

  I greedily started to read when my gaze dropped down to the included picture of the teller.

  And that’s when my whole world shook to its core. Because the person in the picture was me.

  I grabbed the buffet table leg to steady myself. Jasper sat up. His tail thumped against the wood floor as he shoved his nose in my face. I couldn’t even speak to calm him down.

  When I say it was me, I don’t mean a little bit like me. I mean her face was exactly like mine, down to the dimple in my cheek and with the same crooked eyetooth.

  I felt woozy and fanned my face. I’d seen a lot of strange things, but this… this was too much. I leaned my head against the wall. What was even happening? How could this be?

  It wasn’t just Sam who had mistook me for her. I squeezed my eyelids tight as I remembered the older couple who entered the thrift store and made the sign of the cross when they saw me before running out the door. There was the man at the crosswalk, who screamed the name of Denise while staring at me in disbelief. Even Tom and Sharon had said I reminded them of someone from long ago.

  My fingers started to tingle, coupled with an itchy stranglehold in my chest. I recognized the feeling immediately as the beginning of a panic attack, something that had happened to me a lot during the first year after the airplane crash. Slowly I breathed in through my nose and concentrated on stroking the dog’s back. Jasper blasted me with warm pants.

  It’s okay. People look like one another. It’s a strange world.

  Slowly I opened my eyes, and when I was ready, I glanced at the article again. It was from twenty-three years ago. I was five at the time that she died.

  As I studied the woman’s face, cold chills ran over me again. Her name was Denise Smith, and she was younger than I was now at the time of her death. Looking at the pictures was like looking at an old college photograph of myself. Her hair was tucked up in a bun, but I had the same sleek look when I pulled mine back into a ponytail.

  The picture quality wasn’t great, but even her eyes appeared to be the same dark color as mine. I now fully understood what Sam meant when I overheard him at the car saying he was being haunted.

  The article spoke of a blue Pontiac as the get-away car. In capital letters, it asked the public to keep an eye out.

  There was one more thing. A description of the get-away driver. The news story said that the robbers separated, with one throwing the bag of money in the car and then leaving on foot.

  And suddenly, it all made sense. The final piece of the puzzle clicked in.

  When I read the description of the driver—white blond hair—I couldn’t believe that Sam hadn’t been caught in all these years.

  He was the driver. He’d driven the car one way while Clint ran the other. He must have left it hidden in the woods. This was why he felt so much guilt all these years.

  Then I realized why neither of them had been caught. The McDaniels ran the town. They orchestrated Clint leaving. They most likely hushed the story. After all, the mayor had political ambitions and couldn’t let a little murder and bank robbery get in the way.

  I stared at the picture again. I just couldn’t get over how much she looked like me. I didn’t recognize the last name. She was no family relation that I knew of.

  Fingers trembling, I saved
a snapshot of the teller so I could send it to Mom. It would freak her out, I knew it would. Still I had to share it with her. This was all too strange.

  My phone vibrated in my hands, interrupting the photo background and scaring me. It was Polly. Surprised, I pressed the answer key.

  “Hi, Polly,”

  “Oh Chelsea! I’m so glad you answered. Are you okay? Pammy and I have been worried sick!”

  So they’d already heard. Gossip sure got around fast in this little town. “I’m fine. Everything is under control.”

  “Under control? You just are so brave. Brave I tell you! To think that man came into your house. I can’t believe it.”

  “It was a little freaky,” I admitted, holding out my hand to look at it. It was still shaking.

  “And you were alone with him at the trailer park! Can you imagine what could have happened there?”

  “Well, he ran away from me. He was more scared than I was. I wonder what he was doing out there. He has a home, doesn’t he?”

  “Oh, sure he does. You didn’t hear? It was actually Clint’s trailer. I have no idea what Sam was doing at his place. Looking for something, I suppose.”

  “Why did Clint live in the travel trailer?”

  “Well, I’d heard when he returned to Cedar Falls, he was quite down on his luck. Lost his entire fortune in a bad investment. I heard he only returned to Cedar Falls to get his feet back under him.”

  That’s right. Tom had told me that as well. Getting his feet back under him could also translate into him realizing the stolen money had to be out there somewhere. Clint must have pressured Sam into telling him where.

  Maybe they were meeting in the barn so that Sam could lead him to the money. And Sam killed him there as some sort of weird homage to Denise, since this is where I lived, and he thought I was Denise.

  It must have horrified Sam when he first saw me. Here I was living so close to where he’d stashed the money and car. No wonder he’d thought I’d come to haunt him. Maybe he’d hoped, with Clint dead, the nightmares would end.

  Like I said, I was no stranger to nightmares. But I knew they didn’t end that way.