Dooley Is Dead

by Kate Merrill

  “We were just curious…”

  Paula’s harsh laugh echoed through the bones of the building, and thunder clapped nearby. She ground out the second cigarette and ran her fingers through her wild blond hair. “Why did that slut show up after all these years? Did she seriously think my Trev would lie down and roll over just because she bore him a bastard?”

  Diana’s heart pumped adrenaline so fast she feared she would faint. “How did you know?”

  Another maniacal laugh. “My loser husband and Trev are like this…” She twisted her hands together. “Soon as he got home last night, after hearing the glorious news, Trev called Maynard and spilled his guts. Trev was equally thrilled when my stupid cousin got pregnant, but that didn’t work out so well for Lori, did it? And you solved the case, didn’t you, Diana?”

  The fear coursing through Diana’s system escalated to sheer terror. So this was it, no more speculation. In the end, a few loose tongues and the small town grapevine had answered every question too late, and Paula had lured her here knowing all the answers in advance. Diana could tell the crazed woman she’d made a terrible mistake by killing Lori, since Lori had already miscarried when she died, but likely that revelation would only serve to further enrage her.

  “It won’t work out well for Ginny, either. She’ll go to jail for the rest of her life.” Paula bent over and picked up a short length of rebar. “Did you hope that little slut would become your new daughter, Diana? Then you’d all live together like one big happy family, including my Trevor?”

  Paula was clearly insane as she tossed the thin, heavy bar back and forth in her hands. Absurdly, Diana noticed the woman’s well-muscled arms and how the violent wind lifted her mass of hair like a golden halo around her contorted features. Diana reached back and groped along the rough concrete wall, hoping for what? To lay her hands on a weapon of her own? A shaft of lightning cracked against a tree in the nearby forest, and torrential rain cried from the heavens.

  Diana felt the support of the wall disappear and the hard edge of the lower foundation pressing against the back of her knees. When Paula lifted the rebar to strike, Diana’s scream was joined by Gracie’s furious barking. Another lightning bolt exploded inside Diana’s head.

  And when she stumbled backwards, her world went black.

  FORTY-TWO

  Matthew…

  Lissa was mighty proud of the fried chicken she’d helped her mommy make, but Matthew wasn’t hungry. Using her tiny fingers, she lifted a crispy drumstick onto his plate, then spooned out a mound of potato salad.

  “Please try to eat. We made this just for you, Grandpa.”

  “Thanks, darlin’. It looks delicious.” He glanced at Ginny, who was also anxiously awaiting his approval, so Matthew took a big bite and licked his lips. “Umm, yummy.”

  He had come home physically whipped and emotionally exhausted, kicking himself for every harsh word he’d said to Diana last night. He wished he could take it all back. He remembered how she lay beside him, holding his hand and telling him everything would be all right, but he had turned a cold shoulder and behaved like a petulant child.

  “Are you sure Diana didn’t call?” he asked for the third time. “You checked the answering machine?”

  “No, Daddy, she didn’t call. And yes I checked the machine. In fact, she said we should go ahead and eat without her. She expected to be late.”

  He trailed his spoon through a pool of baked beans. Matthew had expected Diana to contact him at the store. He wasn’t proud of it, but generally when they argued, even when it was his fault, it was Diana who always made the first move towards making up. But today---nothing. When he finally broke down after lunch and dialed her cell phone, he got a message saying the subscriber was unavailable, which meant she’d turned the phone off.

  “She probably worked late at the office. You know how far behind she was with all her work.” Ginny added as she slid a hot biscuit onto Matthew’s plate. “Stop worrying and eat.”

  He pushed back from the table. “You’re right. I’ll try the office again.” Ignoring their protests, he stepped outside onto the deck to make his call. Normally he’d use the landline in the living room, but he didn’t want Ginny and Lissa listening when Diana answered and he apologized. He’d grovel, if necessary.

  But he returned to the kitchen more worried than before. “Nope. She must’ve left for the day. Got their blasted answering machine.”

  Ginny shrugged. “So sit down and finish your supper before it gets cold. Maybe Diana went out to dinner, or decided to go home to her condo to eat?”

  Matthew scowled at his daughter, who thought she knew all the answers. Naturally he’d been trying Diana’s condo all afternoon, with no luck. No harm trying again. This time he stepped onto the back porch to make the call. As he leaned in the shadow of the roof’s overhang to dial, the oppressive heat of late afternoon filled his lungs and glistened on his forearms. As he listened for her to pick up, he visualized the white princess phone ringing in the foyer of her apartment. His mind roamed through the cool emptiness of Diana’s rooms, but he didn’t see her there.

  His brain started to panic. He let it ring and ring as he watched a mockingbird chase a terrified squirrel across the street. He didn’t hang up until the animal found safety in the bushes.

  “Please come in, Grandpa.” Lissa tugged at his trousers. If you don’t eat your supper, you don’t get dessert.”

  “Is that how it works?” He grinned at the child even as an odd sense of dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

  “Yeah, stop worrying, Dad.” Ginny appeared at his elbow. “Maybe you did something to piss her off? Maybe she figures you guys need a vacation from one another?”

  Matthew sighed. Likely Ginny was right. He’d been distracted lately, and sometimes surly with Diana. He wouldn’t blame her if she decided to take a breather, and yet…

  “”Who’s that?” Lissa squealed, interrupting his train of thought. She pointed down the road to where a pickup truck was driving fast, kicking up dirt. It swung into Matthew’s driveway, and the driver honked the horn.

  Seconds later, Liz McCorkle jumped out with a huge smile on her face. Her sunburned arms were dotted with new freckles. “Hi, guys, we’re home!”

  “Yeah, did y’all miss me?” Her boyfriend Danny leaped out and began scanning the yard. “Hey, where’s my dog? Where’s Gracie?”

  “She’s not your dog, silly.” Liz punched his arm, then she too began searching the premises for the one missing person. “And by the where, where is Diana?”

  FORTY-THREE

  Bad dream…

  The pain in her head was intolerable, but when she tried to wake up and climb out of it, it got worse. She took deep breaths, but something was covering her mouth, so she inhaled through her nose---smelled the loamy wet earth, human sweat, and the metallic scent of blood. She tasted the same metal at the back of her throat, and when she tried to scream, the rag compressing her lips muffled the sound.

  She remembered nothing and decided she must be dreaming, except for that pain. If only she could open her eyes, the nightmare would go away. She lifted her lids slowly, blinked away grains of dirt, but saw only black. Or brown. Thin lines of light ran parallel along the length of her body. The lines two feet apart, just above her face. Late afternoon. When she tried to lift her head, the pain exploded in a cacophony of jagged red stars, so she closed her eyes again.

  Dear God in heaven, where was she? When she tried to move, she felt two walls---cold and rough. Concrete pressed against her shoulders, arms, hips, and legs. Her back ached from lying on something round and hard. Pipe. And when she tried to shift position, she found she was pinned.

  Sweet Jesus. She flexed her ankles and realized she had lost one shoe. She tried to move her hands, but they were bound together at the wrists with flat wire. She lifted her arms, pounded against the ceiling, but nothing moved. Exploring the lid with her fingers, she found it was heavy, wooden, and unyielding.

>   As her panic escalated, she told herself this was only a bad dream. The oxygen she sucked through her nostrils was foul and dense with sawdust. When she moved her bound hands towards her mouth, her left elbow was trapped, could not reach the gag. Would she suffocate? Her eyes flooded with tears.

  Couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember. She pounded against the ceiling, tried again to scream, but the pain was like knives spinning inside her skull. She tasted more metal, blood drained from her head, and she fainted to blessed unconsciousness.

  FORTY-FOUR

  Liz…

  Liz saw immediately something was wrong. “Where is Diana?” she repeated.

  “She’s not home yet,” Ginny answered. “Why don’t you come inside? We were just eating supper.”

  “I’m starving,” Danny said.

  Liz punched his arm as they trailed the Troutmans into the kitchen. “I didn’t hear anyone inviting you to eat.”

  This was not the homecoming she expected. After a week in the mountains, she was eager to describe all the adventures they’d shared, especially how she’d saved Danny from sliding down a waterfall. But tension hung so thick in the air, Liz decided to save her stories.

  “Don’t look now, Grandpa, but Ursie’s eating your chicken!” Lissa charged the table, shooing the Doberman away, but the dog already had Trout’s drumstick clenched firmly in her jaw. She slinked away with her prize and hid behind the sofa.

  Trout exhaled in exasperation, then clapped Danny on the back. “You could’ve had my dinner, son, but Ursie beat you to it.”

  When Lissa ran after the dog, chasing her out from behind the couch, onto the deck, then down into the yard, Ginny sighed and dished up a plate for Danny.

  “There’s plenty more where this came from. Are you hungry, Liz? Apparently Dad’s not eating tonight.”

  “No thanks. I’m still full from the burgers we ate on the road. “She gave Danny a sour look as he sat right down and began stuffing his face. Far as she could tell, his stomach was a bottomless pit. She returned her attention to Trout and Ginny, who were clearly in a funk. “Okay, someone wanna tell me what’s going on?”

  Trout lumbered into the living room and sank into his favorite recliner. Ginny explained the situation to Liz as they followed him. “Bottom line? We have no idea what’s happened to Diana,” Ginny finished.

  Liz plopped down beside Ginny on the sofa, then turned to Trout. “So, what did you do to piss her off?”

  But Trout wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “We’ve tried her cell phone, called the office and her condo. I don’t understand,” he said.

  “Dad’s really worried,” Ginny added.

  Liz looked from one to the other and decided they were over reacting. Naturally Trout was upset. He loved Diana and sometimes got too protective, but Ginny was another story. When they were children, General Ginny was tough, nothing fazed her, so if she was concerned now, maybe there really was cause for alarm.

  “You say Diana planned to work at the office all day?” Both nodded. “Okay, let’s check it out. I’ll call in and review the messages.” Liz took out her cell.

  “You can do that?” Trout perked up.

  Ginny rolled her eyes. “Of course she can. Honestly, Daddy.”

  As Liz scrolled through a week’s worth of voice mail, she realized only one client had attempted to contact her with annoying persistence, and that person was not a happy camper. “Paula Dula was calling every ten minutes this morning,” she told them. “And she sounded hopping mad. But since she’s stopped, I assume Diana got in touch with her.”

  Trout frowned, slumped deeper into his chair. “So how do we find out for sure?”

  At the mention of Paula’s name, even Ginny seemed distressed, and Liz had a hunch it had something to do with Lori Fowler’s murder and the trouble Ginny’d gotten herself into. So far Liz hadn’t brought the subject up, hadn’t even congratulated Ginny for being out on bail. Truth was, she hadn’t yet figured out how to relate to her childhood friend, the summer camp bully.

  “I suppose I could call Paula…?” Liz offered half-heartedly.

  “Then please do it,” Trout snapped.

  His tone startled her so much that Liz actually flinched. She got to her feet, stomped into the hallway for a little privacy, then dialed Paula Dula. Shit. It was one thing to help out an old friend like Trout, quite another when that friendship put her in an awkward position with her only viable client.

  She paced nervously, glanced back into the kitchen where Danny was still gobbling chicken, and almost hoped Paula would not answer. Unfortunately, the woman picked up on the tenth ring. She sounded breathless and irritated when Liz stated the reason for her call.

  “What’s the big deal, Liz? So I talked to Diana on the phone this morning, and she answered all my questions. Then she drove to her office and went about her business. End of story.”

  After their short, unpleasant conversation, heat crawled up Liz’s neck. She felt like a complete fool, yet she resented Paula’s attitude. All eyes were upon her when she returned to the living room.

  “What’s up?” Danny wandered in munching a cookie.

  “Everybody chill.” Liz held up both hands. “Diana’s fine. Paula talked to her on the phone this morning, just like I thought, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong.”

  “Oh yeah? Paula Dula’s a bitch,” Ginny grumbled. “I don’t believe one word she says.”

  Trout stood up, walked to the window, crossed his arms, and scowled out at the lake.

  “Anybody want a cookie?” Ever the peacemaker, Danny trotted back to the kitchen to fetch the tray of chocolate chips, but on the way his cell began playing the theme from Star Wars. Everyone was startled as Danny fumbled the phone from his shirt pocket.

  Liz watched her boyfriend’s face change from happy-go-lucky to wide-eyed surprise. He kept saying, “Are you sure? Are you sure it’s her?”

  By the time he hung up, pale and shaken, Liz was certain something awful had happened to Diana. “Was that the police?”

  Danny blinked and leaned against the nearest wall. “No, it was Iredell County Animal Control. Seems they found Gracie wandering around in an abandoned land fill up in Statesville.”

  The room was dead silent for what seemed an eternity as everyone processed this shocking bit of news. Finally Ginny broke the spell.

  “How come they called you about Gracie?” she demanded of Danny.

  He blushed. “I couldn’t resist buying her one of those fancy dog tags, you know? And since Gracie lives with me so much of the time, I put my phone number on the tag.”

  Suddenly Trout walked to the back door. On the way he grabbed his truck keys from the hall table.

  “Where are you going?” Liz called.

  But clearly Trout was not in the mood for conversation as he turned to his daughter. “How do I find Paula Dula’s house?”

  Ginny saw the determined look in his eyes and hesitated only a second before giving him directions. “Let me come with you, Dad.”

  “Absolutely not. You stay here with Lissa, and please call Wayne Bearfoot. Tell him Diana is missing.”

  Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but changed her mind.

  “Then let me come with you, Trout.” Liz stepped forward, but Trout placed a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. “No, why don’t you drive down to Davidson. Check the office and Diana’s condo. Maybe she’s there, after all.”

  “No problem.”

  “But what about Gracie?” Danny whined.

  “Oh hell, you can borrow my Subaru,” Ginny told Danny. “But please make sure Gracie sits in the back of the wagon. No tellin’ what kind of shit she’s been wallowing in.”

  In spite of her gruff tone, Liz could tell Ginny was worried sick, so she actually felt a teeny weenie spark of sympathy for her old nemesis as Ginny’s father backed out the drive. And when she glanced again at Ginny and Danny standing together on the back porch, they looked for all the world like a pair of
frightened, white- faced owls in Trout’s headlights.

  FORTY-SIX

  A distressed animal…

  She remembered waking up and hearing something---or someone--- scratching at the ceiling of her tomb. She hoped it would claw its way through the plywood, or whatever barrier held her prisoner in this living grave, but now it was gone. And when she swam painfully back into consciousness, she saw the thin bars of light had grown dim as the sun moved west across the sky, shifting afternoon towards evening.

  Her hole was still hot as hell, she could barely breathe through the rag in her mouth, but at least the pain in her head had receded to where she could think straight. She decided the stiff substance dried on her forehead was blood, and she recalled the crazed face of the woman with halo hair as she lifted the bar to strike. And before fresh terror overpowered her reason, she put a name to that face---Paula. The creature clawing at her roof had surely been her own dear Gracie.

  Sweet Jesus. As the truth of her predicament hit home, she mourned for herself and her beloved dog. Surely Paula had not hurt Gracie. Why would she? But then, why would she attack Diana? How could she possibly hope to get away with a second murder? Didn’t the woman realize the workmen would discover her trapped in this disgusting foundation first thing Monday morning?

  But what if Monday morning was too late? As her panic mounted, so did her anger. She writhed against the plumbing pipes digging into her back and fingered the bindings on her wrists. The restraints were fashioned from those flat aluminum bands used to bind bales of brick. She’d seen them on the site. And as Diana began picking at them with her nails, she felt the tension lessen as her fingertips began to bleed.

  She didn’t care about the blood, kept picking and flexing her wrists, panting for air as the bonds gave way. Diana tried to block out the pain, her aching ribs, and the very pressing need to use a bathroom until suddenly, her hands was free. Dear God, thank you.