A hand grabbed a chunk of her hair and yanked her head backward. “Do you?”
Lindsey screamed.
Todd Lawson laughed, a false-sounding bellow, which soon dropped into a throaty chortle that spoke of a lack of sanity. He leaned over, his face close to hers. “Scream, princess. No one can hear. Thanks to you.”
Me? Lindsey opened her eyes and looked around. The familiar walls of the restaurant cellar told her exactly what he meant. The building sat back from the road. Closed up tight. By her choice.
“I couldn’t believe how easy you were to manipulate. You and Deputy Dawg, running around like chickens with a fox in the henhouse. One push, and you focus on RuthAnn. Another push, you move out of your house. Yet another, and you close this place up. In less than a week, I knew where you were going to be every minute of the day. I couldn’t believe you were that stupid.”
“But why? I don’t even remember anything about that day!”
Todd mocked her. “You don’t remember? Poor baby. Guess what?” He bent over her face again. “I don’t care! You ruined my life! You saw everything, and your dad showed up where he was never supposed to be. I knew I could keep him quiet, but I knew you’d squawk to your mother. I’d have to take care of both of you. Did her, but you’d already disappeared.”
Lindsey stared at him. “You killed my mother? But my father—”
“Wasn’t as lucky.”
Todd grabbed her and set her upright, her back against a support post. He looped a leather strap around her neck, binding her to the post and almost cutting off her air. He then grabbed the sleeves of her shirt and ripped them down from the shoulder seams, exposing her biceps.
She could still scream. Someone might hear. Maybe a customer? Then her heart sank, and her shoulders slumped. No, the closest business to her would be...
“Max,” she whispered.
It all fell into place now, and an ache of betrayal and fury shot through her. Max had been the one who had befriended RuthAnn and gotten information about her new boss. “Lindsey Presley, aka Lindsey Purvis, née July Presley.” Max had fed it to Todd Lawson and lured him back to Tennessee.
And it was Max who had stood at the front door of Daniel and April’s home, coming in friendship, just to collect the rent. Such a friend that Lindsey had turned her back...
“Old Maxie’s not here right now. But he will be. I’ve given him a lot of grief about you, and he definitely wants a chance at you. You ruined his life, as well.”
“How?”
“Just by showing up, little girl. Just by showing up. Y’see, Max had the unfortunate luck to have married my sister. I’ve had him looking for you for years. Then you just moved in right next door. He wasn’t sure at first, then you admitted to RuthAnn you’d changed your name.”
Lindsey shuddered, both from cold and dread. “You tortured RuthAnn.”
“And enjoyed every minute of it. At first, it was just to get more details about you. Then, after that...” He shrugged, then grinned. “After that it was just for fun. Couldn’t let her scream, though, because of where we were. You, though. I want you to scream.” Todd reached into his pants pockes and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
Lindsey gasped, remembering the round, puckered burns up and down RuthAnn’s arms. “No!”
Todd Lawson grinned and lit the cigarette.
FIFTEEN
Jeff played the recording in Ray’s office, watching as the sheriff’s face alternately flushed and paled as he listened. Jeff knew his own blood ran cold every time he listened to it. When it finished, Jeff turned off the recorder.
Ray looked at him, his face drawn tight. “Do you believe him?”
“I do. I don’t think he would have made up the specific details about how Karen was hog-tied in the trunk of the car or the way her arm had been broken. I called Mark Bradley back, and he confirmed that Karen’s skeletal remains revealed that exact break.”
Ray looked away into some far distance, his eyes glassy. “You almost hope Lindsey never remembers.”
Jeff tucked the recording in his pocket. “In fact, I pray she doesn’t. And there may be a way we don’t have to ask her to.”
“I’m listening.”
“Lawson’s been investigating her enough to know she hasn’t talked yet. He may even know she has no memory of that day. But he needs to kill her, just in case she ever does remember. What would happen if he thinks she’s about to tell us, officially?”
“A deposition.”
“We could play this—”
A tap on Ray’s door interrupted Jeff, and one of the other deputies stuck his head in. “Sorry. Jeff, you have a call. Said he was some auto shop in Kansas, returning your call.”
“I’ll get it.” He went back to his desk and grabbed the phone. “This is Jeff Gage.”
“Yeah, you’d called about a part I sold for a 1968 GTO.”
“I appreciate you calling back. The car is in our impound lot and we’re trying to track down the owner. The title was a bust, so we’re tracing the replacement parts.”
“Gotcha. Have the invoice right here. It went to a mailbox drop.”
The dealer read the address, and Jeff wrote it down slowly, staring at the words in disbelief. He asked the man to repeat it. Nothing had changed. He had heard it right the first time. When he looked up, Ray stood by his desk.
“You’re white as a sheet. What did you find out?”
Jeff handed him the slip of paper. “The part was shipped to this address.”
Ray read it and looked at Jeff. “Get your kit.”
“Ray!”
They looked at the dispatcher, who stood in the door of her office, the phone cord dangling from one ear.
“Daniel just called in on the 911 line. Lindsey’s missing. They can’t find her anywhere.”
Ray and Jeff looked at each other, then down at the paper in Ray’s hand.
“It has to be,” Jeff said, fear coursing through every vein. “Has to be.”
Ray turned around and called each of the five deputies in the bullpen by name. “Take your vests.” He recited the address. “We’re going. Now!”
Jeff grabbed his kit. “I’ll call the judge on the way for the warrant.”
* * *
Searing pain radiated from the first cigarette burn through Lindsey’s biceps, spearing into her brain. Her head fell forward, and she tried to draw her knees up, to brace herself against the post. It might help. Maybe. Or not.
Her mind flew backward in time, to her childhood, to those moments when her father’s rage had exploded with flying fists. How she had dealt with the pain. Most of all, her mind went to a time when her mother had calmed him down. She’d distracted him from the violence with questions that seemed to come from nowhere. Anything to direct his attention away from the girls.
“I thought you would have screamed more.” Todd squatted in front of her. “Perhaps I didn’t hold it against your skin long enough.” He reached out and stroked Lindsey’s cheek with the back of his hand, then tucked his hand under her chin and lifted her head. “Or perhaps I chose the wrong area of your body. Some places are naturally more tender than others.”
“Why the GTO?”
Todd blinked. “What?”
Lindsey swallowed hard and tried to speak firmly, evenly. “Why did you choose the GTO? Why send your son in the GTO?”
Todd stood, his face showing genuine surprise. “You’re serious. You really don’t know about the car.”
Lindsey shook her head.
Todd stared at her. “I thought you were lying. You really don’t remember what happened that day, do you? All this, and you don’t even remember.” He lay his cigarette on a shelf behind him, and took a swig of water from a bottle on the same shelf.
&nbs
p; Lindsey shook her head and drew her knees even tighter to her chest, waiting, glancing up at the set of shelves behind Todd.
It might work. Maybe. Eventually, he would come closer again.
Todd coughed, then took another swig. “It was a GTO you escaped from, darling. A GTO that had Karen in the trunk. I called her, told her to meet me at the house. Wanted to pick up the boys together for a family dinner before she went to work. But I was waiting. I got her and Sasha in the trunk, but you got away from me. If your old man hadn’t showed up, I would have found you, too. I locked you in there with her and Sasha, but, no, you had to shove the backseat out enough to wriggle through. I wanted to remind you of our time together once before. It’s why I threw in the book and the knife, as well.”
Lindsey scowled. “What knife?”
Todd grinned. “What? Your precious sheriff’s deputy didn’t tell you about the knife?”
“What knife?” she repeated.
He leered at her. “The one that killed Karen. It cut your father, too, for sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong.” He squatted in front of her. “But all for naught, as it turns out. I had planned such a delicious show for your murder, but you ruined it all.”
Come closer, Todd. Closer. “Too bad you wasted a magnificent machine on someone who couldn’t appreciate your choice. You restored it yourself, didn’t you?”
Todd’s mouth twisted. “Flattery will not distract me, my dear.” He sighed. “But it was a beautiful car.”
“Did you buy it local?”
“A salvage yard in Kentucky.” Todd’s eyes narrowed.
“Where did you get the replacement parts?”
“Different dealers.” He moved closer, trailing one finger along the outside of her thigh, and every muscle tensed. “Why all this curiosity about a car you don’t even remember?” He reached for her face.
Bracing her back against the post, Lindsey lashed out with her feet, planting both heels in Todd’s solar plexus and shoving with all her strength. His breath rushed out of him with a harsh whoosh, and he stumbled backward, completely off balance. He fell into the shelves behind him hard. They rocked backward, and Todd’s cigarette and water tipped to the floor. As Todd scrambled to recover, the shelves rocked forward, dislodging everything on the top four shelves. Pans rained down on him, and Lindsey watched in anticipation as a five-gallon tin of cooking oil on the top shelf tottered...rocked...and fell, striking Todd in the head before crashing to the floor.
Todd dropped, unconscious.
Lindsey knew he wouldn’t be out long. She struggled and tried to push herself up. If she could stand, she might find a way to loosen her bonds...
Then she froze. The drop to the floor had cracked the tin. Cooking oil oozed out, soaking Todd’s pants, and edging ever closer to his still-lit cigarette.
* * *
Four patrol cars converged on Maxwell Carpenter’s courier business, the address the Kansas auto dealer had given Jeff. Two of them blocked the main highway in front of it, while the two others pulled into the driveway. As officers surrounded the house, Ray and Jeff approached the front door of the small building, cautiously, each standing to one side.
Ray knocked, then shouted. “Max! It’s Ray Taylor! You need to come out here! Open the door slowly!”
After a few moments, they heard the lock snap. The door cracked open, and Max peered out. “I’m not armed!”
“Then step out here. Hands raised. Let us see them.”
The door opened wider, and Max, looking smaller and weaker than ever, appeared, his hands over his head. Jeff grabbed him and pulled him out on the porch. He cuffed Max’s wrists, then patted him down.
Max protested. “I’m not armed! I told you. I didn’t touch her. I never touched her! I never touched either of them!”
Jeff shoved Max down the steps toward another officer. “Watch him.”
Ray and Jeff entered the building, well aware that Todd Lawson was far more dangerous than Max. Two other officers followed. The courier business was small, consisting only of an office, a reception space with a rack of mailboxes and four rooms of storage. No basement.
No Lindsey.
Frustrated, they returned to the porch. Ray holstered his gun. “I’ll call the judge, see if we can get a warrant for his house—”
A twitchy movement from Max caught Jeff’s eye, and he motioned Ray to stop for a moment.
“What’s going on?”
“Max is acting odd.” Jeff moved a bit to his right, so that he could watch Max, but he was blocked from Max’s sight by Ray.
“Max always acts odd. What’s he doing?”
“He’s... Okay, that’s three times he’s looked over at the restaurant.”
Ray nodded. “Let’s go.” He motioned for two officers to follow them, and they headed for the back of the café.
As they closed in, Jeff got a whiff of an acrid scent. “Smoke?”
Ray pointed. “Coming out of the cellar.” They broke into a run, and Ray barked at one of the officers, “Call the fire department.”
Then tendrils of smoke peeled away from the edges of the cellar doors, but the wood was cool. The locks wouldn’t budge, so Ray motioned everyone back as Jeff took aim and fired. The newly installed apparatus shattered, and they yanked open the doors. Grayish-white smoke roiled out, almost blinding them.
“Over here!” Lindsey’s voice penetrated the smoke. “Stay low!”
Covering their mouths and crouching, Jeff and Ray entered. They followed Lindsey’s calls and coughs ’til they found her, tied and pressed as close to the floor as possible. Nearby, Todd lay unconscious, as flames licked up his right leg and across his stomach. Jeff cut her bonds and scooped her up, holding her tight to his chest as Ray grabbed Todd under the arms and dragged him out.
Outside, they all fell to the ground. Another officer used a blanket to extinguish the flames on Todd Lawson.
Lindsey clung to Jeff, weeping and coughing. The smoke inhalation had almost overcome her. Jeff thought his heart would break as he pulled her into his lap and held her close. Please, Lord, let this be over.
As the sirens of the fire trucks and ambulances closed in, Jeff and Lindsey watched tendrils of flame lick up and out of the cellar, crossing over the wall and attacking the roof. The firefighters tried, but the battle had already been lost. Slowly, Lindsey’s dream was consumed by fire.
SIXTEEN
A few hours later, Jeff sat by Lindsey’s hospital bed, watching her breathe. Smoke inhalation could be tricky, lingering long after the fire. They had been walking away from the restaurant when Lindsey had collapsed against him, coughing uncontrollably. The EMTs grabbed her and headed for NorthCrest, one more time. She slept now, the oxygen cannula still in place. Behind him, June, Daniel and April waited, as well, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
She almost died.
Jeff couldn’t dispel the thought. It clung to him, swirling over and over in his head. As clumsy as his investigation had been in the beginning, toward the end, Jeff recognized that his insights, his hunches, had come through. They had succeeded, and the bad guys had been brought down.
Yet he felt nothing like a hero.
She almost died.
The soft whisper of the door behind him told Jeff that Ray had returned. They all looked expectantly at him, and he shook his head. “Todd Lawson never regained consciousness. He died about ten minutes ago.”
Bad guy vanquished. But there was no satisfaction in it. No sense of justice. Karen and Sasha Lawson were still in their graves, Luke Presley still sat in prison and a childhood trauma long forgotten would now haunt Lindsey the rest of her life.
She almost died.
Jeff felt Ray move in behind him. “How is she?”
“She almost died.”
&n
bsp; Ray remained silent a few moments. “But she didn’t. And she won’t. And you have the chance to make it right.”
“I don’t deserve her.”
“Who really deserves the people we love? They’re God’s gifts. Not because we’re all that. Because He is.”
It was as much, if not more, than Jeff had ever heard Ray say about his faith.
Yet it was enough.
He’d make it right.
* * *
Lindsey awoke to excited whispers. She swallowed hard and licked her lips. “What’s going on?”
The whispers turned to cries of glee as her family swarmed around her bed. Lindsey jerked back against her pillow at the sudden rush of bodies.
“’Bout time you woke up,” June said, barely containing her joy.
April nudged Jeff. “Go on. Show her.”
He scowled at both of them. “She just woke up.”
“She’s a girl,” April protested. “She won’t care.”
“She’s in the hospital. I wouldn’t count on that. I had also planned to do it privately.”
June stared at him, incredulous. “Have you learned nothing about this family?”
“Water, please,” Lindsey croaked. “Y’know, for the patient in the room?”
June beat Jeff to the cup, but he helped her sit up as June held the water. Lindsey drank greedily, then pushed it aside and cleared her throat. She looked up at Jeff and smiled sweetly. “Whatever it is, you might as well do it now.” She raised the head of the bed some and pushed herself up. “Do I need to guess? Flowers? Balloons?”
Jeff flushed, then slowly held out an envelope. Curious, Lindsey reached for it and lifted the flap. Inside was a check. When she looked at the amount, the breath stopped in her chest, and she coughed. She looked from it to Jeff and back to the check.
“I know you had insurance, but,” he began.
“Jeff did that,” interrupted June. “He’s been all over Bell County the past couple of days, telling people what this county and the restaurant mean to you. What you can do for the county by being a success.”
Memory of Murder Page 17
