“But I’d already agreed to marry her,” Tom exclaimed.
“Maybe they just wanted some extra insurance.”
Tom’s stomach rolled. Pam’s accident was one thing. Discovering now, fourteen years later, that it might have been deliberate was almost too much. An image of Pam appeared in his mind. How would she handle this? All this time, she’d been blaming herself. If Tom was right, and they’d found out sooner, how different would their lives have been?
“Did you let Houser know about this?”
“Not sure,” Eddie answered. “He was out on a call when I stopped by the precinct to talk to him. I left him a copy of the missing photos and a note on his desk.”
“I’m going over there now. If this emblem came from a Middleton cruiser, there should be a maintenance record somewhere.”
Eddie agreed. “Let me know what you find out.”
Truths Unveiled
Truths Unveiled
Chapter Fifty-Two
Wet from the heavy rain, Tom entered the police department. He looked to the desk sergeant’s chair. It was empty. He’s probably in the back, Tom deduced. Taking a snooze. It was after midnight and Middleton wasn’t exactly Philadelphia.
“Hey, Tom. Be with you in a sec.”
Tom turned and found the short, heavyset sergeant, Max Wilkens, carrying a box of donuts and a coffeemaker into the room.
“Let me plug in this machine,” he said, setting it up. When he finished, he wiped his hands on a towel he’d thrown over his shoulder. “There. That’s done. So what brings you over here at this hour?”
How do you ask about a fourteen-year-old maintenance record without raising some suspicions? Tom wondered. Especially at this time of night. But he knew of no other way to get the answers he needed. He just hoped he could keep his patience in check when he spoke.
“Want one?” Wilkens asked. He helped himself to two crème puffs. “My wife made ‘em fresh over at the bakery. Just about an hour ago.”
Tom shook his head. “No, but thanks. They look great.”
“Sure?” Max held out the box. “She makes twelve different kinds. These are my favorite.” He took a bite. “Yup, I always said…”
Struggling to remain calm, Tom gripped the insides of his jacket pockets. Shut up about the donuts! he wanted to shout. Instead, he blurted out, “Can you look up something for me?”
“Oh. Sure. Sorry, Tom.” Quick to be helpful, Wilkens placed the half-eaten puff on a paper plate and wiped his hands on the towel. “What do you need?”
For you to wipe that powdered sugar off your face, Tom’s thoughts answered. With great self-control, he said, “Ah, a maintenance record. I think one of your cruisers was involved in an accident on June 25, 1994, but I don’t have a copy of the report.”
The officer scratched the top of his head, his expression curious. “Sure. What’s up?”
“No big deal. Just checking some paperwork. I wanted to get some dates straight.”
Wilkens gave him a blank look.
Oh, brother. Trying not to lie too much, Tom said, “At the last town committee meeting, the county auditors asked for a report about all vehicles we keep in service. Like a dummy, I offered to help.” To himself, he said, Dear Lord, please forgive me. It’s not a total lie. I do need to file a similar type of report. It just doesn’t include the police department. Sorry! To make it right I promise that I’ll offer to do the police records, too. Okay?
The sergeant continued to stare.
“I know how busy it can get in here,” Tom added. “And I just finished my shift. When I drove by, I noticed it looked slow, so I thought I’d stop in. I didn’t want to bother you guys with something this small when you’re in the middle of more important things during the day.”
“Well, our Crown Victorias are top of the line,” Wilkens assured him.
Vigorously, Tom nodded. “Of course. They have a great rating.”
Finally, Wilkens tapped something on the computer’s keyboard. A few seconds later, he let out a disappointed sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“Those records are kept in the basement. The computer only goes back to 2000.” The guy stood and stretched. “It might take me a while.”
“I can wait,” Tom told him. It was clear Wilkens wasn’t thrilled about making the trip, but, hey, too bad. He needed those records. Fast. “Do you want me to help you look?”
Wilkens hesitated, considering the idea. Then shook his head. “Nah. I’ll be right back.”
Tom’s gut continued to warn him that something was wrong. Very wrong. None of this made any sense. Yet, if his hunch was right, what would he do about it? He might still detest his ex-wife, but their children loved her. If she had anything to do with the accident…Tom forced the ugly thought from his mind and prayed he was wrong. There’s got to be some other explanation.
Ten full minutes passed. First, he roamed the hallways. Then he sat down in one of the hard wooden chairs. A second later, he sprang to his feet. His nerves raw once again, he headed down the hall. This time, he stopped and tried concentrating on the pictures hung on the walls. Anything to divert his thoughts.
They included photographs of officers who had received commendations over the years, retirement parties, and department softball teams from decades ago through to the present. Tom recognized many of the faces. Then his eyes fell on an old lineup of all the officers in their dress blues. They were at a formal annual awards dinner. Tom scanned the faces. He almost chuckled. How young they looked back then.
“There’s nothing on that date you gave me,” Wilkens called out, emerging from the basement. In between huffs and puffs, he added, “But I did find something about a cruiser involved in an accident later in that week. Some jerk did a hit-and-run into the front of a parked Crown Victoria. We never ID’d the perp.”
Listening, Tom caught sight of Bill Houser’s face in one of the photographs on the wall. The guy had hardly aged at all. Tom reached out to take the folder Wilkens held, then stopped. Something about Houser’s face drew him back to the photograph. What was that on the guy’s forehead? It looked like a bandage.
Tom’s heart started to pound. At the same time, his blood raced icy hot through his veins. He looked down at the bronze plate affixed to the picture frame. The date, June 28, 1994, shouted back at him. Three days after Pam’s accident!
“Looks like the officer involved was…”
“Bill Houser,” Tom finished.
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“Thanks,” he called out, already halfway to the door. Where’s Pam? his thoughts demanded. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed the hospital.
Truths Unveiled
Truths Unveiled
Chapter Fifty-Three
“Hi Tom. It’s Marcia. What do you need?”
“Is Pam around?”
“She left about fifteen minutes ago.”
Tom checked his watch. “Thanks, Marcia.” He started to close the phone when he heard the nurse ask, “Did she get you on the phone?”
“No. Why?” His ears rang with premonition. “What happened?”
“No big deal. Her car died.”
“What? Why didn’t she call me?”
“She knew you were on-call. But it turned out fine. Deputy Houser stopped by to chat. He gave her a lift home.”
****
“I really appreciate this, Bill.”
“Glad I could help,” the deputy chief told Pam, driving out of the parking lot. I just need to make one stop on the way to your place. Why don’t you settle back and catch a few winks.”
Grateful for Houser’s assistance, Pam took him up on the offer and sank down into the passenger seat. The drone of the engine added to her drowsiness. She stared out the window, catching glimpses of landmarks she’d grown accustomed to passing each day on her way to the medical center.
To her right stood a pharmacy. Next came a grocery store and a popular coffee shop. When the cruiser approached the v
eterinarian’s office, she couldn’t help a smile. The sign contained a grinning mouse with a bandage on its finger, sitting on an elephant’s head. The elephant wore a sling on its front foot. Underneath, the sign read, “No animal is too big or too small for us.”
Closing her eyes, Pam thought of Tom. Thanksgiving was next week. Her parents planned to arrive on Tuesday to meet Tom’s family and help Katie prepare Thursday’s feast. They would stay through the weekend and confirm wedding plans.
How different this year would be compared to others, she thought, feeling extremely grateful.
“Ouch!” Pam screeched, bolting upright. A sharp stab, followed by a fiery burn, raced up and down her right leg. Where was she? Oh. With Bill Houser. He was taking her home. Why weren’t they moving? A flash of lightning revealed Houser fiddling with a hypodermic needle.
“What are you doing!” she tried to shout. But no words formed. It felt like she was moving in slow motion.
“You know it’s all your fault,” Houser accused, in a conversational tone. “I told you so at the time. If you’d kept him happy, he would have stayed away from Susan. And then she would have married me.”
Another flash showed his features, twisted and tortured with desperation.
“You shouldn’t have come back here. I tried to warn you.”
Pam heard his words but she couldn’t react. Her panicked reaction only served to help the drug he’d injected soar through her veins and paralyze her system. She caught another flash of light. He stared at her, deadly and determined. Then everything faded to black.
Truths Unveiled
Unlocking her hotel door, Pam relived the past few hours.
With everything else being equal, Tom Jarrod could tip the scales either way. On one hand, if she moved back here, and the past caught up with her, she could lose everything. On the other, if she just left and didn’t return, she could be giving up the best thing that ever happened to her.
For the most part, Pam never gave much consideration to a social life. Sure, in recent years there hadn’t been much free time. But now she realized that had been her excuse. More accurately, she didn’t believe she deserved a serious relationship. Yet, in these past twenty-four hours, Tom changed that.
Getting undressed, Pam wondered, Can it work, God? Is Aunt Carolyn right? Is this why you sent me here? So I could learn to forgive myself, and for Tom and me to start over?
The exuberance Pam began experiencing last night while with Tom doubled its strength. Smiling and feeling like a giddy teenage, she found the mystery novel she’d started reading on the plane. A long hot soak in the tub sounded great. Heading toward the bathroom, she noticed the bathroom light, glowing under the semi-closed door. No big deal. Maybe the maid forgot to turn it off when she cleaned the room. Armed with the book and a nightshirt, she opened the door. Then froze in terror.
Taped to the large mirror above the sink, Pam saw what appeared to be the original newspaper article and photograph. There was no mistaking the headline. She recognized it before her brain registered the words: TWO TEENS DEAD IN FATAL CRASH! ONE DRIVER SURVIVED!
Underneath the article, someone had written in red, YOU KILLED THEM! LEAVE HERE NOW OR FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!
Truths Unveiled
Chapter One
“I’ve got to be out of my mind to come back here,” Pamela Harrington muttered. She turned the rented Explorer into a service station just outside Middleton’s city limits. A quick peek at her watch told her she’d been driving nonstop for close to three hours.
After parking the truck alongside a gas pump, she switched off the ignition and released a deep breath. Chicago General was a top-notch, metropolitan hospital. And they offered her a fantastic job as an emergency department physician. So why was she here, out in the middle of rural Pennsylvania?
“Fill ‘er up, ma’am?”
Startled by the interruption, Pam jerked her head toward the open window. Smiling, a young, red-headed attendant waited for her response.
“Sure. That will be fine.” She stepped outside to stretch her cramped muscles.
“You that doctor who used to live around here?” he asked, placing the gas nozzle in the tank.
Pam’s over-anxious nerves shot to a new high. She held up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun’s bright rays, burning low in the late afternoon sky. She wanted to make this trip anonymously. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen. She gave him an inquisitive stare. “What makes you ask?”
Grinning, he pointed his chin toward the inside of the truck as he washed the windshield. “Simple deduction. Your hospital ID is laying there on the seat, the back bumper sticker says you rented this vehicle at the airport and you meet the physical description.”
“I’m impressed,” Pam replied, removing a fifty-dollar bill from her pants pocket. “Care to tell me who’s interested in my arrival?”
“Sure,” he shrugged. He replaced the nozzle and gas cap, then took a pen from his back pocket and wrote out a receipt. Handing it to her, he said, “My cousin. He paid me ten bucks to call him when you got this far.” Then he flashed a mischievous grin. “Want to make a counter offer so you could surprise him yourself?”
Pam’s eyes and smile widened simultaneously. She held up the bill. “Sorry. This goes toward the gas. What’s your name, anyway?”
He touched the rim of his baseball cap. “T.J. Jr., ma’am. At your service.”
Studying the attendant’s features, Pam felt a mixture of fire and ice soar up her spine like nasty bee stings and settle at the base of her neck. “As in Thomas Jarrod, Jr.?”
He sent her a wink. “That’s my cousin. I’m Timmy Jarrod, Jr. So what do you say? Want to reconsider my offer?”
Before she could answer, a deafening roar, like a crash of thunder, rumbled nearby. T.J.’s bewildered eyes locked onto hers. The ground beneath their feet started to shake. It lasted several seconds. The shrill of a siren immediately followed.
T.J. darted toward the building. “That’s the fire signal!”
Instantly alarmed, Pam followed him into the tiny convenience store portion of the gas station. Once inside, she heard a calm, steady voice giving instructions over a scanner.
“Signal Ten. Companies One, Three and Four. Explosion at the Power Master Tool Factory, 43 Sumner Avenue. Multiple injuries reported. All Middleton companies responding. Be advised, Middleton Regional Rescue is also being dispatched.”
“That’s me!” T.J. grabbed the portable radio and a strobe light. “This is Fire Fighter 132. I’ll be responding to the scene.” He motioned for Pam to follow him outside, then locked the station door. “Hey, your truck’s better than my old pickup. Can I drive?” He ran toward the vehicle, then stopped and looked at her. “You are that doctor, right?”
Pam gave him a quick nod. “That’s me.” She tossed him the keys. “How far is it?”
“About ten miles. I think it’s an industrial park.” He started the engine. Then he pushed an adapter into a power plug and placed the flashing blue light on the dashboard.
As Pam buckled her seatbelt, T.J. floored the gas pedal, lurching them forward. The tires squealed out of the lot and onto the road.
****
Tom spoke clearly into his emergency radio. “Medic One to dispatch.”
“Medic One, go ahead.”
“Dispatch, I’m at the scene. Requesting Rescue Flight Helicopters and all available medical rescue units to this location. Alert the burn unit. Be advised, this building is fully involved. Over.”
“Roger that, Chief,” the dispatcher replied. “They’re on their way. Neighboring towns are also responding. Over.”
Stepping out of his truck, Tom looked around. Walls of orange flames, laced with thick black smoke, danced high in the afternoon sky. It was as if they were in tune to the tempo of the sirens piercing the air. He released a deep breath. The flames had already spread through two of the factory’s neighboring buildings in the industrial complex. Fueled now, they moved on at
a seemingly unstoppable pace. Taking in the scene, he whispered, “If you’ve got a minute, Lord, we could sure use some help around here.”
At that instant, three fire trucks appeared and expertly parked near the hydrant. At the same time, Tom could hear helicopter blades in the distance. A half dozen ambulances and police cruisers followed. “Thanks,” he whispered, welcoming them with a wave. “Good to know you’re listening.”
“Tom!”
T.J.? He turned to find his young cousin right behind him.
Truths Unveiled Page 25
