The Masked Man

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The Masked Man Page 13

by B. J Daniels


  Jill tried to move through the dispersing crowd of people and cars, but saw that it was going to be impossible to reach the woman before she drove off.

  Determined not to let the other Scarlett get away, Jill cut back across the cemetery, hurrying for her van, knowing she’d never be able to catch the woman on foot.

  As Jill started the engine of The Best Buns in Town van, the other Scarlett looked back, saw her and rushed to the Saturn. A moment later the Saturn roared toward one of the less-used exits away from the line of cars leaving the cemetery.

  Jill raced after the other Scarlett, taking several of the service roads, all the time keeping the red Saturn in sight through the trees and gravestones.

  She couldn’t let the woman get away. Not this time, she thought, remembering two nights ago at Trevor’s condo when the person driving the car had struck her in the head and taken off.

  Jill was dying to know what the woman had been doing in Trevor’s condo, what she’d been looking for in the bedroom and if she’d found it.

  The red Saturn sped toward the exit, traveling at a right angle to Jill’s van. Jill floored the van as she raced down the narrow cemetery road that with luck would connect with the road the other Scarlett was on—before the woman got there.

  Jill reached the road, hit the brakes and skidded to a stop in the middle—blocking the exit with the van just seconds before the Saturn got there. Jill braced herself, half expecting the other Scarlett to broadside her.

  The woman seemed to consider that option. But at the last minute, hit the brakes, bringing the Saturn to a dust-boiling stop in the middle of the road.

  Jill leaped from the van and jerked the Saturn’s door open before the other Scarlett had a chance to shift into reverse. Jill grabbed the car keys from the ignition, killing the engine.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This is my car!” Jill yelled. “Get out.”

  The woman had taken off her black hat, and Jill noted that the length of their hair was their only resemblance to one another. The woman’s hair was a dingy brown and straight as string. Her nose was too big for her face. So was her mouth and her voice—

  “Trevor gave me this car.”

  “He borrowed it from me,” Jill snapped. “Check the registration and title.”

  “He paid for it,” the woman shot back defiantly.

  “He did not!” Jill wanted to drag the woman bodily from the car, but she restrained herself. “He didn’t even pay for your airline ticket himself.” The woman’s surprised reaction confirmed what Jill suspected. “You’re Rachel, aren’t you. Were you looking for your ticket night before last in his bedroom? I suppose by now you know that he cashed it in.”

  Once again, the woman’s expression confirmed it. “He did it because of you! He told me that you said you’d rather see him dead than with me.”

  “I didn’t even know you existed,” Jill said. “Haven’t you figured out by now that Trevor lied to us both?”

  “None of that matters,” Rachel said, looking around nervously as if afraid someone might be listening. But the other mourners were too far away to hear. “Please, just leave me alone. If someone sees us together—”

  “Who would care if they saw us together?” Jill asked, remembering that Heddy said she’d seen Scarlett O’Hara get off a boat at the dock a little after nine-thirty—just before Rachel had opened the cottage door. Rachel must have known about Trevor’s meeting with Mac.

  “That scene at the cottage was just a ruse to make it look as if you thought I was in there with Trevor, when all the time you knew better, didn’t you?” Jill said in surprise. “You knew Trevor was dead.”

  “Stop asking questions about Trevor’s murder, or you’ll wish you had,” Rachel spat.

  The woman’s words startled Jill. “I couldn’t care less about you or who killed Trevor. I just want my car—and you to tell the sheriff you saw me in the cottage that night. Unless there’s a reason you don’t want to come forward?” The same reason she was far back in the crowd at the funeral hiding under a large black hat. Unless…she not only knew that Trevor was dead that night, she knew who did it—because she herself had put those two slugs in his heart.

  The woman glanced around again. “Is that all you want? You can have the car. As for the sheriff—” she dug in her purse on the seat beside her and pulled out her cell phone “—I’ll tell them right now. Then I want you to leave me alone. Trevor told me all about you,” she said as she dialed 911. “He said you were a cold fish in bed and dangerous. I want nothing to do with you.”

  A cold fish, indeed. Jill felt her blood boil. It was all she could do not to drag the woman bodily from her car.

  She looked down at the key ring in her hand. It was the one she’d given Trevor with her car key and her apartment key on it. Now there was only one key. So who had the old key to her apartment? The man in the black ski mask who’d gotten in the night before last?

  “You’re the one who sent that man over to take back the gifts Trevor had given me, aren’t you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rachel said as she waited for the line to ring.

  The emergency number should have answered by now, Jill thought. She started to reach for the phone when the woman said into the phone that she needed help. Her car was being hijacked by a crazy woman.

  “Here, he wants to speak with you, Ice Princess,” the other Scarlett said, holding out the cell phone.

  Jill took it and said, “Hello, this is Jill Lawson and—”

  In that instant Rachel gave Jill a shove away from the car and slammed the door, locking it. The engine roared to life a moment later, then the tires threw up gravel as the car lurched backward.

  Jill jumped clear as Rachel tore up the road in reverse for a few dozen yards to a side road, turned and took off in a cloud of dust.

  The woman apparently had a spare key, and she must have taken it from her purse when she’d gotten out the cell phone.

  “She’s stealing my car!” Jill yelled into the phone before realizing there was no one on the other end of the line. The other Scarlett hadn’t called 911.

  Jill scrambled to the van, backed it up and turned down the road, hoping to catch up with the Saturn and Rachel. But by the time she reached the cemetery exit, the woman was gone.

  Braking hard, Jill slammed her fist down on the steering wheel, then picked up Rachel’s cell phone and dialed 911.

  “We’ve already got an all points bulletin out for the car and driver,” Deputy Duncan told her after she explained what had happened. “Give me her cell-phone number.”

  She did and Duncan said, “That’s Trevor’s cell phone.”

  “He always had it with him,” Jill told the deputy. “How did she get it?”

  “Well, she doesn’t have it anymore,” he said quietly. “You do.”

  Jill hung up, angry and frustrated. Who knew how long it would take the sheriff’s department to find the Saturn and the other woman? And now she had Trevor’s cell phone and only her word that she’d taken if from the other Scarlett.

  She looked up to see Mackenzie Cooper’s pickup in the line of funeral cars leaving the cemetery. Like the rest of Bigfork, he’d witnessed her confrontation with the other Scarlett from a distance—just too great a distance to prove anything.

  As she shifted the van into gear, she watched his pickup head down the lake road and wondered again why he had come to the funeral of a man he’d never met.

  IN HIS REARVIEW mirror, Mac saw The Best Buns in Town van tailing him. He took a quick right, a left, then another right. When he looked back again, the van was still there. He couldn’t outrun her in the pickup, not with the camper on the back.

  He cursed and pulled over to the curb, waiting until she pulled in behind him before getting out and walking back to the van.

  She rolled down her window.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

  “Following you.�
�� She had the same determined set to her jaw that he’d seen last night. No gun, though, which was a plus. “You lied.”

  He stared at her. “What?”

  “You felt something the other night.”

  “Is that what this is about?” Her look dared him to lie again. “All right, I felt something. Happy?”

  “Something amazing. Something more than great sex.”

  He smiled in spite of himself. “Something amazing. Something more than great sex. Okay? Now that we have that settled, don’t follow me.” He turned to walk away.

  “I know where you can find Marvin Dodd,” she said. “You are looking for him, right?” she said when he was standing at her driver’s-side window again.

  That was the trouble with a small town like Bigfork. But he knew his trouble ran much deeper. “Just because it felt like more than great sex the other night—”

  “This has nothing to do with that,” she said.

  He gave her a give-me-a-break look.

  “Do you want to find Marvin or not?”

  He waited for her to ask him why he was looking for Marvin, but she didn’t. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch. Marvin worked for Trevor on the island. That’s why you’re looking for him. You’re trying to find Trevor’s murderer.”

  It was news to him that Marvin had also worked for Trevor, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. She looked so pleased with herself he hated to bust her bubble.

  “Wrong. I’m looking for my nephew.”

  “Whatever,” she said. “I guess I’ll just have to find Trevor’s killer on my own.” Her brown eyes flashed, reminding him of another fire he’d seen burning in all that amber when he’d kissed her last night on his houseboat.

  “Have a death wish, do you?”

  “No, just the opposite. I guess because I was Trevor’s fiancée—well one of them, anyway—I’m involved. Up to my neck, and I think you are, too. If you won’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll just follow you and find out for myself. And I should warn you, I’ve had a really bad day so far.”

  He cursed under his breath and turned on his heel. “Get in the truck,” he said over his shoulder.

  She scrambled from the van, catching up with him at the pickup.

  He didn’t look at her as she climbed into the passenger side. Couldn’t. He was too angry with her. “I’m trying to protect you.”

  “Well, stop,” she said, looking out the windshield, waiting for him to start the engine.

  What the hell was he going to do with her? “You are an incredibly stubborn woman.”

  “Thank you.”

  “That wasn’t a compliment.”

  She smiled and looked over at him. “Why is it so hard for you to be honest with me?”

  “You have heard of privileged information, haven’t you? I’m on a case.” He put the truck into gear.

  “Trevor’s dead,” she said.

  “It’s another case.” He could feel her gaze on him.

  “Turn right up here and head down the lake toward Polson,” she ordered.

  “Why were you chasing that woman in the red Saturn?” he asked as he pressed the accelerator.

  “That woman was the other Scarlett and she was driving my car!”

  “Seems she’s still driving your car.”

  She shot him a warning look. “You could have helped me.”

  “I didn’t realize you needed help. Did you get her name?”

  “No, I only know her first name—Rachel. She got away before I could get anything but mad,” Jill said. “She’s driving my car and she says Trevor gave it to her.”

  “He probably did.” Mac watched her tug at her lower lip with her teeth. “I take it the two of you had words?” He was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

  “She told me I was a cold fish, and that’s why Trevor—”

  “Bull,” Mac snapped. “Trevor was a fool and obviously not much of a lover.” He handed her his handkerchief. “Trevor was out of his league with a woman like you.”

  Jill looked over at him and smiled through her tears. “You can be pretty nice when you want to be.”

  He focused his attention on his driving, warning himself that being too nice to Jill was trouble. Too easily he could find her in his arms—and they both knew where that would lead.

  “Turn up here on the right,” she said, all business again. “Marvin lives in a trailer out on Finley Point.” She smiled. “I grew up in Bigfork. News travels fast. Especially if you know who to ask.”

  “You’ve been asking questions about me?” He wasn’t happy to hear this. “Who told you I was looking for Marvin?”

  She smiled. “You’re actually looking for a nineteen-year-old named Shane Ramsey. Marvin Dodd used to be his roommate. Well?”

  “Nice work. You really are determined to get yourself killed, aren’t you.”

  “I thought your investigation had nothing to do with Trevor’s death.”

  “Did you ever think that just being around me might be dangerous?” he asked, shooting her a look.

  Her smile broadened. “After the other night in the cottage, I know just how dangerous you can be.”

  He growled under his breath and tried to change the subject. “So you’ve lived here your whole life?”

  “You sound aghast at the thought. I’m content here. It’s a great place to live.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” He remembered the last time he was content somewhere.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard gossip about me around town,” she said. “How bad is it? What’s everyone saying? What a fool I was to think Trevor wanted to marry me?”

  “Everything I heard about you was glowing,” he said. “True, people wondered what you saw in Trevor… What did you see in him?”

  She stared out at the passing green blur of pines for a long moment, so long he didn’t think she was going to answer. “Trevor could be quite charming. I think he was an actor—he would play whatever role he thought you wanted.” She shrugged. “And he paid attention to the small things.” She looked away.

  “Like what?” he asked, needing to know what she’d seen in the man. Now more than ever.

  “I had this horrible experience when I was sixteen,” she said. “I never hitchhiked, but this one night I was at a party and my ride’s car broke down and I was frantic to get home on time, so I did something really stupid. I took off by myself, walking down the lake road. It was really late, one of those dark cloudy nights, and this car stopped for me.”

  Mac felt his chest constrict. Dear God.

  “I never saw his face. It was just a voice in the darkness of the car. He asked if I needed a ride. I didn’t even pay any attention to the car. It was just large and black and I started to get in. Then, I don’t know why, I changed my mind. I guess somehow I…knew.” She looked out her side window, away from him. He saw her chin quiver, and it was all he could do not to reach for her. “The driver grabbed my wrist, but I was wearing this bracelet my aunt had given me for my birthday. The bracelet saved me. It came off and I was able to pull free and run. I ran into the trees. He got out of the car and started to follow me, but must have changed his mind. I heard the car leave. I’d never been so scared in my life.”

  Mac reached over and took the hand resting on her thigh. It was cold as ice. She was shaking. But so was he. “You must have been terrified.” She nodded. “And you told Trevor about this?” He took his hand back to steer the pickup down the narrow, twisting road to Finley Point. In places, as it wound through cherry orchards and pines, the road was like a tunnel.

  “The day after I told Trevor, he brought me a present,” she said. “A silver charm bracelet with my name on it like the one I’d lost. Trevor said the bracelet had brought me luck once before—and would again.” She looked over at Mac, tears in her eyes. “That’s the kind of thing Trevor did.” She rubbed her bare wrist.

  Mac felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest as he thought about the charm bracelet Trevor ha
d given her. The same one the burglar had taken the other night. A bracelet like the one she’d lost when she was sixteen? Or the exact same bracelet? If Mac was right about Trevor Forester…

  He pulled over to the side of the road. He could see the lake stretching clear blue to a horizon, broken only by a single white sail in the distance. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  He’d been worried before, but now he was terrified for her. He told himself that Trevor was dead. Jill was safe. But her apartment had been burglarized. Worse, the burglar had attacked her, taken the bracelet—and asked about the engagement ring.

  Mac couldn’t pretend it had been someone Trevor owed money to. Not anymore. Nor could he keep the truth from Jill anymore.

  “My nephew was involved in a robbery—with Trevor Forester,” Mac said. “They stole some coins. Trevor’s now dead and the coins are missing. But there’s more.” He looked into her eyes. Deep and brown. The flecks of gold shimmering in the summer sunlight.

  “I picked up your engagement ring that night in the cottage, along with your panties. The ring appeared to have been old and the inscription filed down. I called a friend of mine who’s a cop in Kalispell. I had a feeling that the job Trevor pulled off with my nephew probably wasn’t his first.”

  “You aren’t telling me that the engagement ring Trevor gave me was stolen?”

  “Jill, the ring belonged to a teenaged girl who disappeared from Bigfork seven years ago,” Mac said. “She was never found.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jill felt the blood drain from her head. “No.” She remembered the stories in the papers over the years. Teenaged girls who’d come to the area to work for the summer just disappearing without a trace.

  “I sent the skull I found on the island to Kalispell this morning,” Mac said, his voice sounding far away. “I know I told you it was probably an old gravesite, but I’m afraid that skull hasn’t been in the ground very long.”

 

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