Hank Clement couldn't believe his eyes. As a matter if fact, he had been so sure that he was seeing things that he had almost driven by the figure huddled on the side of the deserted road. He certainly never expected to see anyone here. He wouldn't have been here himself except that there had been reports of cattle being rustled, so after work, he had driven back to check on some of the young cattle that were pastured here for the summer.
"Are you all right?" he asked after stopping the truck and getting out to check on her. He took her arm and helped her to her feet. She didn't answer but took a couple of steps toward the truck before her knees buckled and she began to pitch forward. She would have fallen had he not caught her. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the passenger seat. As he placed her in the cab of the truck, the interior light gave him his first clear view of her face and he stared in shock. He had never seen a face so swollen and damaged. One eyebrow was split open, both eyes swollen shut, her nose flattened and pushed to the right side of her face, her lips split and dried blood over her face, and streaking her clothes and hair were horrifying to look at.
"Hang on, lady, I'll get you to the hospital."
She shook her head and mumbled something that he couldn’t understand. As he got in behind the wheel, he heard her again mumbling but didn't take the time to try to figure out what she wanted, he wanted to get her to the hospital before she died right here in his truck. Within twenty minutes, she was in the emergency ward of the hospital, where a nurse finally realized what it was that she had been trying to say, "Po...li..., po...li...ce."
"We've already called them. They should be here soon."
Sure enough, in minutes Officer Ben Morgan, came into the cubical where Emily lay and began to question her. "Can you tell me your name?" he asked.
"E...ly Tah...son." Her words were not much more than a moan.
"Elly Johnson?"
She shook her head and tried again. "E...um...ly Tah...son."
"Elly Thompson?"
She sighed and tried again. "E...um...ly, Em...ly."
"Emily? Emily Thompson?"
She nodded slightly and he continued. "What happened? Who did this to you?"
"Hus...and. Er...ic."
"Your husband? His name is Eric, you say?"
Emily nodded.
"Eric Thompson?"
Again she nodded.
"Have you been to this hospital before? Would they have your address on record here?”
Again she nodded.
“We'll pick him up. Any more questions can wait until you are feeling better." Before he left, he asked for pictures to be taken for evidence and requested a copy of the medical report. Tests revealed minimal brain swelling despite a skull fracture, a broken and dislocated jaw and broken nose, as well as two bones broken in her hand and numerous facial cuts. A plastic surgeon was called in to work on her face and within hours her jaw was wired in place, her nose repaired and 28 stitches had been used to close the cuts in her lips and eyebrows. Orthopedics set the bones in her hand and put on a cast. Once out of the recovery room she was moved to a room on the third floor and had just been settled in her room when Officer Morgan returned with news for her. “How are you doing Mrs. Thompson?"
"Tired." The voice was an almost inaudible whisper.
"We went out to pick up your husband and there was no sign of life there. We’re keeping an eye on the place and sooner or later we’ll get him. Meanwhile, I went back to the station and ran your name and discovered that there was a missing person report on you from Ontario, as well as one out here. Your father got worried because he didn't hear from you and put out a missing person report. And then a Jeanie Stoltz called to say you had stopped at her house and then gone missing. I talked to an Officer Walsh in Toronto and he's flying out here.
He should be here in the morning and I'll bring him by as soon as he gets out here."
"How...is...son?"
"He's holding on. Walsh said to tell you that he's still listed as critical but that he's no worse."
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Well, like I said we’ve got a cruiser out there watching your husband’s house and just as soon as we see some sign of life, we’ll move in. We're gonna get him. You can bet on that."
After the policeman left, she lay there going over and over in her mind all that had happened during the last few days. Things had been so good and then in a split second, it had all changed irrevocably and life would never be the same again. She couldn’t for a moment forget the sight of Kyle lying so motionless in his hospital bed with tubes and wires running from his small body in every direction. The sounds of the machines in the room both fascinated and terrified her. She had found herself constantly listening to their beeps, frightened that the sounds would change or stop. However, despite her worry over the small boy, so far away fighting for his life, exhaustion finally claimed her and Emily fell into a deep, drugged sleep and her body once more began the healing process.
Chapter 26
Next morning, Emily insisted on being released from the hospital. She was prepared to put on her clothes and just walk out if the doctor didn’t sign her out, but he realized that she was determined and signed the necessary form. She called Jeanie and although she had great difficulty speaking she managed to ask for a ride. It took only ten minutes from the time she hung up the phone until she was dressed in the soiled, bloodstained clothes she had been wearing the night before when she had been found. Then the anxious wait had begun, for she had every intention of returning to the house and retrieving the tape. She definitely wasn’t done with this yet. The tape, in Eric’s own voice admitting that he had been responsible for what had happened, needed to be in the hands of the police and she wouldn’t rest until it was safely turned over to them. Nothing was going to stop her from seeking justice for her son. She had been nervously pacing the floor, fueled by impatience to be gone and at the same time working some of the stiffness from her limbs and had stopped to look out the window in the hope of seeing her friend's car drive up, when she heard someone at the door of her room and spun around to find herself looking into the face of Jim Walsh.
He had already been informed about the terrible beating she had taken and since he had seen people injured many times before, he had thought that he was ready for the sight of the courageous woman who stood facing him across the room. He found, though, that he was totally unprepared for the emotion her swollen, bruised and stitched face stirred in him. He wanted to cross the room and hold her in his arms and make a solemn promise to her that he would never allow anyone to hurt her again. And he wanted five minutes alone with the man who had done this to her. His face drained of color as he stepped into the room. "Emily?"
Emily, too, was surprised at the emotion she experienced at seeing this man standing here before her. She longed to walk into his arms and to be held in the safety of his embrace. The poignant moment was broken when Officer Morgan, sensing the awkwardness of the emotion they were experiencing cleared his throat and broke the long silence. "Ahem - we - uh- just stopped to see how you are doing on our way out to arrest your husband."
"Is he there?" The words were not easy to understand as she forced them through her wired jaw.
“They’ve been keeping an eye on the place since last night and we got a call that Thompson just arrived home about fifteen minutes ago. I asked them to wait until I get there to make a move, unless he decides to leave, in which case they’ll pick him up. I want to be there to get him myself.” Jim Walsh sounded determined.
“I’m...going too.” It was not much more than a whisper.
"That's impossible." His voice was kind but Officer Morgan knew that police procedure didn’t allow anyone to come on an arrest.
“He’s right.” Jim answered. “You can’t come.”
"Please, I want...to...be there.”
"We couldn't ensure your safety and it's definitely against policy," Officer Morgan added.
Jim Walsh stepped
forward and took her good hand in his. "Emily, I know that you want to be there and I think you've probably earned the right, but there's nothing we can do about it. It wouldn't be safe and it's definitely against department policy. What I will do, is get you as soon as he's in custody and bring you down to the station. We will need you to give us a positive ID and fill out a report anyway."
"Proof...proof at house."
"What proof."
"Tape...in the...base...ment."
"A tape? What’s on it Emily? What proof?
“He blew...up...the house.”
“And you got it on tape?”
She nodded.
“Where will you be? Once we pick him up, I’ll come get you."
"Eric’s.”
“No way and I mean it, Emily. You are not to go near that place. Now where can I find you?”
“Next...door. Jeanie Stoltz...pick me up."
"I'll see you there." He squeezed her hand slightly then turned away.
She shook her head. "Eric’s." The determination was back in her voice.
Jim smiled slightly as he walked away from the room. He liked the fire he had discovered in this girl. A man could spend a long time discovering the two sides of this woman. He had seen glimpses of them both, the loving mother, quiet and pleasant, and the spirited, determined woman who would fight to right an injustice, regardless of the difficulty involved. "It's going to be a pleasure to see this jerk in cuffs," he said, as they got into the cruiser. "I can't figure a man who could do this to any woman, much less the mother of his kids."
"This morning, before your plane got in, we drove out to where he dumped her. We wanted to get the tarp he wrapped her in and see if there was anything else there.” Barry Morgan added, “It's a deserted farm in the middle of no-where. He just dumped her like a bag of garbage."
"Let's get him." They pulled out of the parking lot unaware that Jeanie had arrived while they were going down in the elevator and was just now leaving Emily’s hospital room a couple of steps behind Emily who was hurrying as quickly as she could towards the elevator.
A pot of chicken noodle soup was bubbling on the stove and Eric was just putting the finishing touches on a ham and cheese sandwich when he heard a car pull up in front of the house. "Now, who the heck can this be?" he thought, half annoyed and half concerned. "I've only got two minutes until the 'The Price Is Right' starts". Eric had never liked people coming to the house unannounced, so he wasn’t happy about unexpected company at the best of times and the last few days had certainly not been the best of times. He regretted having opened the door as soon as he saw the two policemen standing there, and his face paled as his mind groped for some way to avoid letting them come in. For days now he had worried that he might have inadvertently left some small clue behind at the house in Toronto that could be used to prove that he had been the one who had caused the carnage at his father-in-laws house, or here in this house, where he had locked Emily in the basement and later killed her. He had been so very careful, yet there was always the possibility that he had over-looked some small piece of evidence. For the tenth time at least, he mentally checked the list, Emily’s body had been disposed of where it wouldn’t be found for months, if not years, the rental car had been returned with the keys left in the glove compartment, he had informed them over the phone that she had returned home unexpectedly and wouldn't need the car any longer, her purse and it's contents were in a land-fill sight fifteen miles away. He had washed the blood from the wall and floor in the basement and he had carefully checked the trunk of his car and determined that it was clean thanks to the old tarp that had been downstairs. His mind raced. It couldn’t be Emily they had come about, he was certain that he was safe from detection for Emily’s murder. These cops had to be here because of the explosion.
He swallowed nervously, "Yeah?"
"Mr. Thompson, I'm Jim Walsh from Toronto and this is Barry Morgan from the Edmonton RCMP detachment. Can we come in? We need to ask you a few questions."
Eric licked his lips nervously. "I already told two of you all I know day before yesterday."
"Something has come up and we have a few more questions."
"All right. I suppose." He opened the door a bit wider to admit the two policemen. "What do you want to know?" He stood with the door ajar, hoping that this would encourage them to leave sooner.
"We wondered if you have any idea where your wife is?"
"No. She took off months ago.”
"Then you haven't seen her in the last few days."
"Nope, haven't seen her since before Christmas."
"You sure she wasn’t here day before yesterday.”
“Yes, of course I’m sure. Somehow I don’t think I’d forget that.”
“We have reason to believe that she was here. Right here in this kitchen, talking to you.”
“Well, take it from me, she wasn’t.”
“Well, I think she was. I think she flew out here to talk to you and that she came here and stood right in this room and argued with you, and I think that things got a little nasty and I think that you know exactly what happened to her after that.”
"I don't know what you're talking about." He tried to keep his voice calm and not let them see the fear that was taking hold of him.
"Come on, Thompson,” Morgan had been quiet up to now, letting Jim take the lead. “We know what happened. It will go a lot easier on you if you just tell the truth. Your wife was here and things got a bit out of hand. It could happen to anyone."
"Well, it did not happen to me and I am telling the truth. I haven't seen Emily since she took my kids and almost everything I ever owned and walked out of here last December. I swear to you I haven't seen her and I don't know for sure where she is, although I think she is in Toronto."
Just then the door was pushed open wider and Emily stepped into the room and spoke through her wired jaw. “Funny...I’ve seen you."
Eric eyes opened wide with shock and the color drained from his face. "No, you can't...you're..."
"Dead? No, I’m...not.”
Jim Walsh stepped forward, "You're under arrest..."
"No." Eric shouted as he grabbed Emily and pulled her in front of him, putting his arm around her throat, and moving with her across the floor toward the basement door. "Stay back or I'll push her down these stairs,” he shouted as he reached the cellar doorway and realized that there was movement behind him. He had moved so quickly that he had gotten control of the situation before anyone could react. The attempt the police made to reach him before he and his hostage escaped through the door was much too little too late. In seconds they were through the door and he had pulled it shut behind them. He shouted over his shoulder, "I've got a gun down here and I wouldn't think twice about shooting her. Stay away from that door." He hurried Emily down the stairs as he tried to plan his next move. He knew that the two policemen upstairs were not about to leave. They would undoubtedly call for more cops and the house would become a circus, with cops all over the place, totally surrounding them and cutting off any means of escape. He had a hostage, but that wasn’t much advantage with them trapped down here in this basement. He knew that no matter what, once he was even more outnumbered, he would not be allowed to leave with Emily and he also knew that he couldn’t leave her behind to tell what she had learned here two days ago. There had to be some way out of this mess, and he would have to figure it out quickly, before they had time to formulate a plan or call for more help. Unfortunately, the only way out of the basement was through the door they had just used and it was not a viable escape route because of the two armed policemen on the other side. Still he had no choice. He would have to use Emily, who was his only chance.
"Come on." He pulled her over to the shelf where his tackle box was stored and took out
his fish knife.
"Now, we are going back upstairs. Walk slowly and don't do anything stupid and you'll live through this."
She was absolutely terrified. He had tried t
o kill her once, so she knew without any doubt that he was capable of finishing the job this time. All she could do was co-operate and wait for a chance to get away from him. Still standing behind her, with his left arm tightly around her neck, he pushed the point of the knife against the right side of her throat. Slowly, they began to climb the stairs. "We're comin' up," he shouted. "Stay back and let us pass or she's dead."
When they reached the top of the stairs, he pulled her tightly against him and spoke softly
with his lips against her ear, "Open the door."
She felt for the doorknob and turned it slowly, then pushed the door open. Standing in the doorway, he looked around the room and saw that Jim had disappeared. "Where is he?" Panic was evident in his voice as he shouted at the RCMP officer. "I want to be able to see him or she's dead."
"Come on, pal. Stop and think about this. You don't want to kill her."
"Shut up. Get him out here where I can see him. Now."
Jim stepped forward out of the corner where he had hidden in hopes of being able to jump Eric as he came through the door. Now, the two officers were forced to stand by, poised and waiting for any opportunity to make a move, as Eric prodded the back of Emily's legs with his knees and they began to move slowly into the kitchen.
With his eyes constantly moving from one police office to the other, Eric nervously licked his lips and barked out an order, “Back up against that wall. Now.”
Feeling totally helpless the two policemen did as they were told but remained ready to move in and get control of the situation, whenever an opportunity presented itself. Unfortunately, he afforded them none as he and his captive slowly backed across the kitchen toward the open door. Emily's mind was racing. If she went through that door she would be on her own with Eric. And the knife, pressing against her throat, convinced her with absolute certainty that he was capable of killing her. She had to do something or she would die, and it had to be done before she reached that door.
Leaving Sharpstone Page 22
