by Sofie Kelly
“Turn right,” I said.
She glanced at me, eyes narrowed, but put on the right-turn blinker. “That was a waste of time,” she said once we were on the road. “And why did you want to go this way?”
“Because John did rent an off-road vehicle from Gerald Hollister and I know where it is.”
“How do you do that?” Hope asked, shaking her head, a smile starting to spread across her face.
“Do what?” I said, keeping my eyes glued to the side of the road. I was watching for a post with peeling green paint and a piece of yellow flagging tape tied around a tree.
“Get people to tell you things.”
“Bella Lawrence is living with Gerald’s son. Her little guy is in Reading Buddies and she doesn’t like the old man very much.”
“In other words she was happy to help you.”
“And throw a bit of a monkey wrench into in his plans as well.” I caught sight of the green post. “Up there,” I said, gesturing at the road ahead. “There’s a gravel road. Turn off.”
We pulled off the main road onto an unpaved track. Hope stopped and put the car in park. “Okay, where are we going?” she asked, turning toward me.
“Bella told me that Gerald rented a cut-down Jeep to John so he could get around the property out by the lake. He agreed to keep it quiet because it’s to his advantage.” I explained what Bella had told me about her almost father-in law’s position on the development.
“So why are we on a dirt road in the woods?” Hope asked.
“Because the Jeep is at a lean-to at the back end of Hollister’s land, according to Bella.”
I pointed at the road ahead through the windshield. “If you follow this it turns and runs behind Hollister’s land and Wisteria Hill. I came out here this summer to pick blueberries with Roma.”
“If we could get a look at that Jeep and there’s damage—”
“It shouldn’t be that hard to link the vehicle back to John,” I said.
She nodded slowly. “I don’t imagine the old man will be so tight-lipped when there are murder charges involved.” An impatient meow came from the backseat. Hope grinned. “I think that means ‘Get moving.’”
“I think you’re right,” I said.
We drove by the back of Hollister’s property the first time and had to double back. I remembered Roma pointing out where his property and hers met, noting the remnants of a ramshackle fence in the scrub and bushes close to the road.
“Watch for a broken-down fence,” I said. Hercules moved to the driver’s side of the car and looked up at the window. But it was Hope who spotted the weathered wood and sagging barbed wire.
“There!” she said, pointing through the windshield. She pulled the car off the road as far as she could onto the narrow shoulder then turned in her seat and looked at me. “I think you should stay here.”
“Not a chance,” I said, unfastening my seat belt. “I’m going to get out of the car, climb over what’s left of that fence and trespass on Gerald Hollister’s property. Being an officer of the law, you’re going to come after me, because I’m breaking the law. And as an officer of the law, if you happen to find evidence of one crime while you’re trying to stop another—” I held up my hands. “Who can find fault with that?”
She gave me a wry smile. “A lot of people can, Kathleen. Your scenario has more holes than my old rain boots.”
It was raining now, a steady drizzle that made me wish I had my own rain boots.
“I know,” I said. I took a deep breath and let it out. “Just stay here, Hope. I’ll go look for the Jeep, I’ll take photos with my phone and bring them back for you to look at.”
She was shaking her head before I finished speaking. “No way.”
“Then I guess we’re both going,” I said. I looked over my shoulder at Hercules sitting in the middle of the backseat. “Guard the car,” I told him.
“Mrr,” he said as if he’d understood, which I knew was a definite possibility.
Hope and I got out and walked across the dirt road. There was a narrow shoulder that dropped down steeply to a wide, muddy ditch. The fence began on the other side. There were bushes and spindly trees growing up, through and around it.
We made our way down the bank and through the mud, which sucked at our shoes. Up close the fence was taller than I’d expected. The wire was barbed. I couldn’t see any way to get a handhold or foothold over.
“We’re not getting over this, are we?” Hope said.
“No,” I said. “That barbed wire may be old but that doesn’t mean it won’t tear your skin apart.” I walked alongside the fence, hoping I’d find a break in it somewhere, but it just continued around the corner and into the dark, damp woods. I turned and headed back to where Hope was standing. “This isn’t going to work. The fence continues into the woods. We could spend hours walking and not find a way to get over safely.”
Rain was dripping off the edge of her hood onto her face and she swiped at it impatiently with the heel of her hand. “Then you’re just going to have to give me a boost over and I’ll take my chances with that barbed wire, because I’m not leaving without finding that Jeep.”
“I have an idea that might work better,” I said.
“You’re not going to suggest we send Hercules in with the camera, are you?” she asked.
I shook my head and water sprayed off my jacket. “Nah, he wouldn’t go. Hercules hates getting his feet wet. I think we might be able to get to this piece of land through Roma’s. I don’t think this fence goes all the way around on the section where the properties abut. I know those woods a lot better, too.”
“All right,” Hope said. “Let’s go.”
We went back to the car and Hope drove slowly down the woods road and turned back onto the main road toward Wisteria Hill.
“What are we going to tell Roma we’re doing out here?” Hope asked.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hercules’s head swing around toward me when he heard Roma’s name.
“She’s not here,” I said. “She’s over in Red Wing helping the vet there with a surgery. She won’t be back until later tonight.”
Hope glanced at me as the car reached the top of the driveway. “Seems like we got lucky.”
“Let’s hope it keeps up,” I said.
Hope and I got out. Once again I’d told Hercules to guard the car. He’d climbed into the front and was sitting on the passenger side, watching us through the side window. It was still raining and I had no worries about him leaving the vehicle.
Hope looked around. “Okay, which way?”
I pointed at the carriage house. “There’s a path around the side that leads across a field and into the woods. If we stay close to the brook there’s a place where the water is low that we can cross and then we should be on Hollister’s land. If we keep heading back that way we should come on the lean-to.”
“Let’s do this,” Hope said.
We made our way around the weathered old carriage house and across the overgrown field behind it. The embankment had been graded and reinforced with a rock wall and it was fairly easy to climb up to the top. I pointed through the trees that stretched ahead of us. “Can you hear that?” I asked.
Hope pushed back the hood of her jacket. “That’s water, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “That’s the brook. If we follow it back about half a mile there’s a place I’m pretty sure we can get across.”
The trees provided some cover from the rain as we walked. “How did you get to know all this area so well?” Hope asked.
“Mostly Roma, a little bit Maggie and Rebecca,” I said. “Roma convinced me to join her group of volunteers who take care of the feral cat colony back before she even owned Wisteria Hill. I started spending more time out here and I just started exploring. Then Rebecca began teaching Maggie about the uses for dif
ferent plants and when they came out here to look for some of them I’d usually come with them.” I smiled at the memory of walking through these woods with Rebecca, who would point out tiny plants I’d never noticed before. “Rebecca grew up out here. Her mother worked for the Hendersons.”
“I like her,” Hope said. “Rebecca, I mean.”
I nodded. “I don’t think there’s anyone who doesn’t. Owen and Hercules are crazy about her. She buys Owen those catnip chickens. It’s like she’s his catnip chicken dealer.”
Hope smiled. “Sorry. I don’t think that’s a crime.” She put out a hand to steady herself as the ground began to slope downward. “Can I ask you how you picked their names? Is there some literary connection?”
“There is for Owen,” I said. “His name comes from A Prayer for Owen Meany. I was reading it when I first got the cats and he kept sitting on the book. Now I realize it was probably to get my attention.”
“What about Hercules? That’s Roman mythology, not Greek, right? Hercules is named for the guy who did the twelve labors.”
“Right,” I said.
“Okay, that was a lie,” she said.
I looked over at her. “No, it wasn’t. Hercules is the son of the god Zeus and a mortal woman.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. What I meant was you’re lying about naming your cat after him.”
“How did you know?” I said.
“You answered too quickly.”
I laughed. “I’ll remember that next time I want to fudge the truth. No, Hercules isn’t exactly named for the son of Zeus. He’s actually named for Kevin Sorbo. He played Hercules in a TV series back in the nineties.”
“So why didn’t you name Hercules Kevin?” I could see she was trying not to laugh.
“So I could avoid having conversations like this one.”
Hope did laugh then. “How’s that working out?”
Just then we came level with an area where the brook widened and the water was much shallower. Several large rocks made a bridge of sorts to the other side. “I’m pretty sure this is the spot,” I said.
The rocks were wet and slippery but we both made it across safely.
My shoes were oozing water. So were Hope’s. “Are they your new running shoes?” I asked, pointing to her neon-yellow-and-green footwear. Hope was training for another triathlon. Marcus had convinced her to buy new shoes with fancy inserts that had been custom made in Minneapolis.
Hope looked down at her feet. “I knew spending all that money on these things was a bad idea.” She looked around. “Which way do we go?”
“That way,” I said with a confidence I didn’t completely feel. I pointed more or less northwest. If Hope thought I was lying again she kept that to herself.
We walked for another twenty minutes or so. Hope was the first to spot the lean-to up ahead of us in a small clearing. A rough road curved away from it off to the far left side. The lean-to looked more like a section of an old barn left after the other half had collapsed. I had my fingers crossed as we made our way closer, and then I spotted it.
“The Jeep is there,” I said to Hope.
“Stay here,” she said, holding up one hand.
I stopped where I was while she made her way carefully closer, bending low to study the front end of the vehicle. Finally she turned and looked at me. “There’s front-end damage, Kathleen,” she said, and I could hear the excitement in her voice. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I’m going to take a couple of pictures and we can get out of here.”
“I don’t think so,” a voice said, and John Keller stepped into the clearing.
15
Hope’s hand moved almost imperceptibly.
“Don’t even think about it,” John said, gesturing with the gun in his right hand. “I can shoot your gun right out of your hand. In fact, I can shoot you in the hand before you can even get the gun out, and then shoot Kathleen in the hand just because she really irritates me.”
Hope held up both hands, palms facing John. “Okay. No gun. But you know this isn’t going to work.”
“Do they teach you to say that the first day of cop school? Because I have to say it’s pretty lame.”
“Gerald Hollister may be willing to lie about renting you that Jeep,” I said. “But when they find our bodies out here, shot to death, he won’t keep covering for you.”
John smiled at me like he was a teacher and I was his star pupil. “Very good, Kathleen. However, you missed two key points. One, your bodies aren’t going to be out here and two, I’m not going to shoot you, as tempting as that might be.”
“So what are you going to do?” I asked.
His wet hair dripped onto his face but he didn’t seem to notice. “Right now I’m going to get Detective Lind’s gun.” He looked at her. “Pull it out nice and slow. Two fingers. Try anything funny and I’ll shoot Kathleen.”
Hope took out her gun as John had directed.
“Toss it over here,” he instructed. “If you throw it too far or too short, like I said before, I’ll have to shoot Kathleen.”
“I thought you said you weren’t going to shoot us,” I said. My stomach clenched but I tried very hard not to let him hear the panic I was feeling.
John nodded. “Good point, Kathleen. I did say that. Shooting you would mess up my plan, but I will do it if I have to.” He gestured at Hope with the gun. “Throw it, and remember, accuracy counts.”
Hope lobbed her gun in his direction and it landed on the ground at his feet.
John crouched to pick it up and tucked it in his waistband. I couldn’t help hoping it would somehow discharge and shoot him in the foot. “Now toss me your cell phones.”
I looked at Hope. “Do it,” she said.
I threw my phone underhand at John. He caught it in midair. “Nice,” he said to me. Hope tossed her phone over as well. It landed once again at his feet. John picked it up and put both phones in his pocket. “We’re going to take a little walk.” He looked at me. “Back the way you came.”
That meant back in the direction of Wisteria Hill. Back in the direction of help.
“You too, Detective,” I heard John say.
We trudged through the trees as the rain came down, soaking through my jacket. My shoes and jeans were already wet. I promised myself a warm pair of socks and a huge cup of hot coffee when we got out of this. I wasn’t going to think about the possibility that we wouldn’t get out of this.
“Why did you kill her?” I heard Hope ask behind me.
I turned and looked back over my shoulder. Hope had stopped walking and was looking at John.
“You think I don’t know you’re trying to stall,” he said. “Wherever you went to school, you should ask for your money back.”
“If you’re going to kill me I’d at least like to know why I’m going to die,” I said.
“You think I want to do this?” he asked.
“No, you probably don’t.” My hands were shaking and I stuffed them in my pockets so he wouldn’t see. “And I know you didn’t want to kill Dani. You loved her.”
“Yes, I did,” John said. He lifted the gun so it was in line with my midsection. “Walk.”
We continued in silence for a while, John directing me when he thought I was trying to veer from the path. We were headed back to Wisteria Hill but I had no idea why.
“She didn’t see that you were the best person for her,” Hope said. “Not the other two. You.”
“I loved her.” John’s voice was low and filled with emotion. “Why couldn’t she see how good we could have been together?”
“I know,” Hope said.
I slowed my pace a little so she could close the gap between us, hoping John wouldn’t notice.
“No, you don’t,” he said.
“Marcus doesn’t see how goo
d we could have been together,” Hope said.
I looked back at her but she wouldn’t meet my gaze. John had stopped walking. Hope and I did as well. “You and Marcus?” he asked. “Stop screwing with me.”
“I’m not.” Hope’s voice was laced with something. Longing? Pain? I wasn’t sure. She started moving again and so did I.
“Did you tell him?” John said suddenly.
“Not in so many words,” she said. “But . . .” She let the end of the sentence trail away.
“But what?”
I heard Hope sigh behind me. “It doesn’t matter,” she said flatly.
“But what?” John asked even more insistently.
“But he should be able to see that I’m the one who loves him the best. How can he not see that?”
“She was the same way.” He meant Dani, I knew. “Travis heard her talking to someone on the phone about coming here to see Marcus. I knew what it meant. She’d been secretive for a while. I knew she was going to try to get back together with him.”
“You told her how you felt,” Hope said.
I couldn’t hear their footsteps, I realized. I took a chance on turning around again.
Hope was facing John, hood pushed back, rain dripping from her hair. “We have history,” Hope said. “Why doesn’t that mean anything?”
“She said I didn’t really know who she was at all.” John gestured again with the gun.
Hope moved closer to him, taking a tiny step as she nodded at his words. She was going to rush him, I realized. I wasn’t a police officer but I knew he’d shoot her before she ever got the chance to get his gun. Hope was strong and fit, but John was bigger.
“I knew her better than anyone. Who helped her pass organic chemistry? Who cleaned up the mess when she screwed Marcus? You know what she did? She told me to get out of her life and then she just walked away. I just . . . I was just trying to catch up with her. I didn’t mean to hit her.” He gestured with his gun hand again and his voice got louder in the silence of the rain-soaked woods. “It was her fault. She just should have loved me.
I looked at Hope and thought of Owen. She had the same coiled energy as he did, ready and watchful in the backyard before he launched himself on a squirrel or a bird. I had no way to stop her. At least I could help distract John.
