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Greene County Killer

Page 26

by Ann Mullen


  Billy got on his cell phone with Jonathan. I just listened. I was too freaked out about the fact that I almost killed that lying, murderous punk. I was still in shock. I could barely catch my breath.

  “Don’t let it do you in, `ge ya,” Billy said after explaining what had just gone down to Jonathan. “It was a natural instinct to try to put an end to the danger he posed. However…”

  “You just can’t go around killing people you don’t like, Jesse,” Jonathan said, trying to make light of the situation. “That’s my job!”

  “I know you’re trying to make me feel better by joking about it, but it’s not working.”

  “Okay, then, how about this? How would you feel if that kid had killed you this morning?”

  I had to laugh. “Gee, I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that for a minute. Ah, let’s see. I don’t know. I wouldn’t be around anymore.”

  “It’s over, Jesse. Forget about it. Like Billy said, don’t let it get to you. Put it behind you and let’s move on. We have other things to do.”

  I looked at Billy and asked, “Are we going to Savannah Kelley’s house? You heard what he said about her, didn’t you?”

  “That’s our next stop.”

  “They know about her. Do you think she’s in danger? I mean, Wayne Avery will be in jail soon, and Eric Webster won’t make it far. He’s been shot.”

  “He’s not dead,” Jonathan said. “As long as he’s on the loose, everyone’s still in danger. He’s only wounded and he’s not finished. From the way it looks, he won’t stop until someone kills him.”

  “And I’m not going to let him kill anyone else if I can help it,” Billy added. “We’ll be on the lookout for his truck. If he’s got any sense, he’ll ditch it and find a new means of transportation.”

  “We should call the house to warn Helene, and then call my mother.”

  “I put out the alert when I went to the Humvee to get the tie-wraps. Dad will make the calls. I didn’t have a number for the author to give him. Sorry.”

  “I’ll call my mother and have her call Savannah Kelley after I catch my breath.”

  “I’m sure Dad probably called your mother.”

  “I want to make sure.” I sat there for a moment and took long, deep breaths, trying to relax, and then I pulled out my cell phone to call Mom. I didn’t need to explain anything to her, because the chief had already called her and told her the situation. She immediately called Savannah. Sad to say, there was no answer at Savannah’s house. I warned Mom to keep her doors locked and her gun close.

  According to Wayne Avery’s last words to us, he and his cohort knew about Savannah Kelley’s book. Obviously, she had been right all along. If they knew about her book, it only stood to reason that they were using it as a guide for murder. Why else would they even know about her? Wayne Avery and Eric Webster didn’t appear to be the kind of men who would spend a leisurely afternoon enjoying a good mystery novel. Under the circumstances, it was apparent that she could be in danger. Given the fact that she wasn’t answering her phone when she should’ve been at home waiting to share her knowledge of the crimes committed in her book with us, we made a mad dash to get to her before Eric Webster. She didn’t stand a chance against someone as ruthless and unfeeling as the killer she had written about in her fictional tale.

  Copycats, as they say, are just that. They take someone else’s ideas and make them their own. They aren’t smart enough to figure out how to commit their crimes without the help of others. That’s what Eric Webster had done, and he had enlisted the help of his nephew—a troubled young person who himself needed psychological help. Given the age of Wayne Avery, it was my guess that he had been led astray by his uncle. At least, that’s what I had thought of when we first found out about their connection, but after listening to Avery rant and rave about killing my family, I came to the conclusion that he hadn’t been led astray, but was a willing participant in the murder of three people and the attempted murder of another. Both men were dangerous and had to be taken out, whether they were killed or locked up forever—it no longer mattered to me.

  And… today I had learned something about myself. When push came to shove, I could have pulled the trigger. If it hadn’t been for Billy grabbing the gun from my hand, I, too, could’ve turned into a killer. Scary as it may seem, the fear for my family’s safety and my anger toward someone who threatened their lives, could have turned me into one of them. How easy it would’ve been for me to cross over into their dark world. These thoughts went through my head as we raced down Rt. 33 and headed to Stanardsville.

  Twenty minutes ago I almost killed an eighteen year old boy. That was a lot for me to take in. I needed to relax, and get myself focused. I lay my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. I had an uneasy feeling about what we would find when we reached the author’s house. A grisly scene played out in my head. I could hear her screams as she ran from room to room trying to escape the killer she had portrayed in her writings. She was alone—with no one to protect her from a homicidal maniac. Later, after her demise, her husband, many miles away and unaware of the dangers his wife faced, would receive a call from Sheriff Wake Hudson of the Greene County Sheriff’s Office informing him of the brutal crime his wife had suffered through. If he loved his wife, he would suffer many years of self-doubt and self-hatred for not being there to protect her. Not only would Eric Webster have destroyed her life, and added her to his list of accomplished crimes, he would ruin the life of Savannah Kelley’s husband.

  “Whoa!” I heard Jonathan say through the cell phone on the dashboard. “I almost lost it there for a second, buddy.”

  “Yeah, I saw you,” Billy responded. “You have to watch those curves. South River Road is no picnic in this weather. It looks like snow on the road, but actually, it’s snow-covered ice. Even your Humvee can’t handle the ice, buddy.”

  My mind was in that place I usually go to when I need to think, but the minute Billy mentioned South River Road, I snapped out of it, raised my head up from the headrest and looked around. The scenery was so familiar. I had traveled this road many times since I had moved to the beautiful mountains of Virginia. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

  South River Road is a secondary road, and alas, one of the last ones to be plowed after a snowfall—if at all. The Virginia Department of Transportation has its hands full during the winter, and it’s all they can do to keep the main roads plowed, let alone secondary or back roads. Usually, by the time they do get around to it, traffic has already done the job for them—in most cases—but not this time. Today, the shade from the overhanging tree branches had kept the rays of the sun from melting any of the snow, and the road was like a sheet of ice, making traveling on it a hazard. If you aren’t careful, and even if you are, you could end up in the South River—which is exactly what happened to Billy a while back. He had gone to get Mom and was bringing her to stay with us when he lost control of his truck in the middle of the curve by the church at Turkey Ridge Road. His truck had to be pulled out of the stream with a winch, and I’m glad to say that no one was hurt. Later, when I asked my mom if she was scared, she said no and went on to tell me what an exciting time she had. That’s when I realized there was, indeed, an adventurous side to her.

  Once we had passed the church, I felt more confident that we wouldn’t land in a ditch or in the river—or up against that big tree across the road from the church. A lot of folks had not been able to maneuver that curve, as was evident from the scars on the tree’s trunk. Large pieces of bark had been skinned off over the years, yet the tree still remained intact. Amazing as it is, so far, none of the vehicles that have struck the tree have been able to uproot it or take it down. The tree was a landmark. Everyone knew about that curve on South River Road by the church… and the tree.

  As we turned off South River Road onto the road to Mom’s house, I started getting jittery. I sensed that we might be too late, and hated the idea that Eric Webster might have killed another in
nocent person. He didn’t care. His goal in life was to kill as many people as he could before he was stopped. He had no conscience. It takes a different kind of person to kill someone for the joy of it and not feel a thing. He was one of those people—and so was Wayne Avery. The line runs deep.

  Billy tooted the horn when we passed Mom’s house. I saw her standing at the window looking out, waiting for us to pass. My cell phone vibrated.

  “Hello, Mom,” I said. “Is everyone all right?”

  “We’re fine,” Mom answered. “Jesse, I’m worried about Savannah. I’ve been trying to call her ever since I got the call from Chief Sam. I even tried her cell phone. I just know something bad has happened.”

  “Have you seen a small, black pickup truck go by?”

  “Yes, I did. I saw the truck about ten minutes ago. He drove past and then came back by a few minutes later. Why?”

  “He’s the one we’re after. He’s the killer.”

  “Oh, no! He’s after Savannah now, isn’t he?”

  “We think so, Mom. We’re on our way to her house.”

  As we rounded the curve, we came upon a scary sight. There, in the middle of the road, was the green Mustang. The car door was standing open as if someone had gotten out in a hurry, but there was no one in sight.

  “Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you right back.” I closed up the cell phone before she had a chance to speak, and then slid it in my coat pocket.

  “Oh, my God!” I cried. “He’s been here already. We’re too late.”

  Billy slowly pulled up beside Jonathan’s Humvee and turned off the ignition. Both of us jumped out of the truck and ran over to the car.

  Jonathan reached over and touched the hood of the car. “The hood’s still slightly warm, and in this cold weather, that means we just missed her… probably less than two minutes ago.”

  “Is that blood in the snow?” I pointed to a couple specks of red.

  Jonathan squatted down and touched it with his finger and then brought his finger to his nose and sniffed. “It’s blood, all right.”

  “It couldn’t be too bad,” I said. “There’s not much blood.”

  I scanned the area looking for any clues that might tell us what happened. I cupped my hands over my mouth and yelled out, “Savannah! Savannah Kelley! Where are you?” The silence was eerie. The only sound to be heard was that of the wind blowing through the snow-covered trees. I made one last effort to attract her attention. “Savannah! Savannah!”

  “She’s gone, Jesse,” Jonathan said. “You can stop yelling.”

  Off in the distance, a dog’s bark was the only answer to my call.

  “Mom said she saw the black pickup truck pass by a little while ago and then the same truck went by again shortly thereafter. How could we have missed him?”

  “It only takes a minute.”

  Jonathan walked up to the wrought iron gate and looked for a call button.

  “There’s not one,” I said. “It’s all electronic. If anyone’s home, they’d know we were here. Forget it. Let’s get out of here

  “He’s got her.”

  Just then, we heard the sound of a car coming in the opposite direction around the bend in the road. The three of us turned, looked up, and saw Cole’s olive green Jeep approaching. He pulled up behind the Mustang and got out of his vehicle. He was dressed in street clothes, and considering the fact that his mother was in the hospital, I figured he was probably on his way to see her.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked as he looked around.

  “He’s got the author,” I blurted out before Billy or Jonathan had a chance to say anything. I was shaking all over and nervous as a hen in a chicken coop with a fox. I couldn’t stop myself. “Billy shot him in the leg, but he got away. He came here and abducted the author. He’s going to kill her. He used her book as a manual to murder all those people and now he has abducted her. See, look here. There’s blood. We have to catch him!”

  “Sheriff Hudson just called and said he got an anonymous tip on the whereabouts of Wayne Avery. I don’t guess either one of you know anything about that, do you?”

  None of us said a word.

  Cole looked at me and asked, “Got anything else in that box, Pandora?”

  I laughed nervously at his joke, and then turned to Jonathan and Billy.

  “We might as well tell him. You know he’s going to find out in the end. Besides, he’s our friend. How do you think he’s going to feel if he finds out that we kept him in the dark after all the times he’s helped us?”

  “I got a tip—and I’m not telling you where I got it—about Wayne Avery,” Jonathan offered. “I was told where I could find him, so we went looking. We snuck around to the back of the house and then busted the door down when the opportunity presented itself. I used tie-wraps to tie up Wayne Avery and then made the call to the Sheriff’s Office.”

  “Tell me about shooting the guy in the leg.”

  “He pulled a gun on me, but I shot him first in self-defense,” Billy replied and then looked at me. “It was your .38. I saw the initials on the butt.”

  When I first got the .38, I used an electric etcher to inscribe my initials on the butt of it. Since then, I’ve done the same thing with my other guns. I guess it was a rite of passage. They say if you name your gun it becomes your friend for life. Me, I go one step further. I etch my initials on the butt of the gun, that way it makes me feel connected. Call me crazy, but that’s just me.

  “I bet Wayne Avery used my gun to kill the psychiatrist. He said he shot him in the head.”

  “He confessed to the murder?” Cole asked.

  “Oh, he did more than confess. He went as far as to describe in detail his plans for murdering my children, my family, and then finally me. He’s a psycho, Cole. He has no remorse. He kills for the fun of it. He enjoys discussing it too much for him to have done his dirty deeds on impulse. His crimes are planned. He’s sick, and I don’t mean in a way that can be rehabilitated. I think he’s too far gone to be fixed. He needs to be put away… or killed. I say we go for the latter.”

  The shocked look on all three of their faces was enough for me to realize that I might have gone a step too far, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to have to look over my shoulder every day and wonder if Wayne Avery was going to show up. I didn’t even know Eric Webster, yet he wasn’t the one who really scared me. Wayne Avery was the one who frightened me. Anyone with such a sadistic personality was a danger to everyone he came in contact with. He was truly a danger to society. He needed to be eradicated.

  “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear you say that, and I don’t want to ever hear those words come out of your mouth again in that context,” Cole said. “Are we clear on that?”

  “Yes, we are.”

  “We have to find Savannah Kelley,” Billy said. “I’m afraid we don’t have much time.”

  “How could he get away without our seeing him?” I asked. “We didn’t pass him on the road, but Mom said he drove past her house coming and going.”

  “He could’ve made a left turn at the bridge on South River Road,” Cole replied. “If that’s the route he took, you would’ve missed him when you came in from the opposite direction.”

  “Let’s split up,” Jonathan said. “Cole, you go left, and I’ll go right. I’ll take Teel Mountain Road and we’ll meet up on Middle River Road.”

  “I’ll alert Sheriff Hudson,” Cole replied. “I’ll tell him everything you all told me, except what Jesse said about killing Wayne Avery. I still can’t believe you said that.” He looked over at me. “He must’ve really ticked you off.”

  “You know how I am when it comes to my family.”

  “Jesse and I will stop at her mother’s house and see if she might have any information we can use.”

  “And we’ll get her to lend us her copy of the book,” I added. I looked at Cole. “Stop looking at me like that. If you had seen the look in that kid’s eyes, you’d understand why I feel the way I
do. His demeanor was scary. He’d kill either one of us and not blink an eye. At first, when I found out about Avery having an uncle who might be involved in the killings, I though the uncle was the one who led the kid astray. But once I talked with Avery, I realized that he’s the one with the screwed up mind.” I looked at Billy and added, “I’m surprised you didn’t stop me from badgering the kid. You let me go on and on.”

  “Yes, I did, and it worked. You got the truth out of him.”

  “What are we going to do about her car?” I asked. “We need to at least close the car door.”

  “The keys aren’t in it,” Jonathan said. “If they were, we’d be hearing that annoying ring or beep they do when you leave them in the car.”

  A wild thought occurred to me as I shivered from the cold, mountain air. “Hold on a moment,” I said. I ran over to Billy’s truck, fished around in my purse until I found the set of keys, and then ran back over to where everyone was standing. I knew it was most likely an improbability that they were hers, but I wanted to see for myself… out of curiosity. I aimed the remote on the key chain toward the Mustang and pressed the panic button. The alarm instantly went off.

  The four of us stood there as the horn beeped away. I hit the button again and the horn stopped. I slipped the keys into my coat pocket and said, “Now, how do you like that? They know each other.”

  “This has really been a strange day,” Cole said. “But I think it’s about to get stranger.”

  “I think you’re right,” Billy said. “After this, nothing would surprise me.”

  “Me, either,” Jonathan added.

  “I knew it all along,” I boasted.

  “Liar!” Billy said and then laughed. “I’m going to have to start calling you Wayne the Liar.”

  “That’s just too creepy. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear that name again and not think of him.”

  “Hey,” Jonathan said. “Time is fleeing and so is our killer.”

  With that said, we jumped into our vehicles and headed down the road. Jonathan and Cole went chasing after the bad guy, while Billy and I headed to my mother’s house to see what we could find in Savannah Kelley’s book. I had no idea how much worse it was going to get, but I was about to find out.

 

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