Carbs & Cadavers

by J. B. Stanley

  “Hello, Allison,” Lucy said quietly.

  Allison jumped in surprise, startling the horse she was brushing. Its ears twitched nervously as it pawed at the stall door in front of its feet. As Allison tried to calm the beast, the horse neighed loudly and showed the whites of its eyes as it struck out again and again with its powerful hoof against the barn door.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Allison yelled, grabbing the horse by its bridle and forcing its head down. “Easy, girl. Easy now,” she soothed the horse while hastily stroking its glossy coat.

  “I think that’s a better question to put to you.” Lucy took a step backward, away from the horse’s dangerous hooves. “We know you were the one who stole the Coumadin out of Whitney’s house the night you and Amelia stayed over.”

  Allison stopped her caress mid-stroke. Then, ignoring Lucy’s comment, she continued brushing the mare while James watched her carefully to make sure that she wasn’t about to grab a shotgun from within the pile of hay in the corner of the stall.

  “The secret Brinkley knew about you must have been a pretty good one, huh?” Lucy tried again.

  Allison shrugged. “Brinkley Myers was a loser. I’m not too upset that he’s dead and I don’t think anybody else is, either.”

  “Maybe not, but nearly killing your friend Whitney upset a lot of people,” Lucy retorted sharply.

  Allison put down the brush and, resting a casual arm on the horse’s flank, asked, “Is that why you’re here? You’re upset about Whitney?” The girl taunted in return. Then she frowned, looking genuinely confused. “What’s the big deal? She’s fine now, anyway.”

  Lucy offered a contemptuous laugh. “Yeah, sure, until you can take a second shot at her. Maybe you should drive one of the stable’s trucks next time you do it. She might not make it then.”

  Allison’s lip curled and she snarled. “You’re crazy. I didn’t have anything to do with Whitney’s accident. Why don’t you go bother somebody else. There’s a Golden Corral about fifteen miles from here. You and the professor could really make a dent in their All-You-Can-Eat buffet.”

  James watched as Lucy’s fists curled into tight angry balls. “I work for the Sheriff’s Department, Allison, and they’re on their way here to discuss the disappearance of Amelia Flowers with you, along with a few other interesting subjects, like murder and attempted murder.”

  “Amelia’s ‘disappearance’?” Allison asked, looking less confident than she had a moment before. James was certain he saw a flicker of anxiety enter her expressionless eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Like you don’t know,” Lucy mocked the girl. She then turned to James. “She’d make a good actress, don’t you think? Much better job for her than future senator’s wife.”

  Allison stepped toward them, irritation reflecting in her clenched jaw. “I could give a shit about being Chase’s wife. And as for Whitney and Amelia, I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you work for the Sheriff’s Department, then where’s your uniform?” She paused, glaring at Lucy. “Where’s your warrant? How about a badge?” She jerked her thumb angrily at James. “And who is this? Your K-9 unit? Get out of my way. I’ve got a life, unlike you two, apparently.”

  Lucy didn’t budge. “Not until you admit what you did,” she said evenly. James leaned conspicuously on the pitchfork.

  Allison’s eyes bored into Lucy’s and then settled on the sharp tines of the pitchfork. She sighed in annoyance and then put her hands on her small hips. “Fine. I stole the drugs. I thought they were codeine pills, okay? I mean, I knew Whit’s daddy had had some surgery so I figured he must have gotten painkillers out of the deal. I only had, like, a second to look in his medicine cabinet before Whitney called me to say that our pizza was ready. So I just grabbed the bottle.” She shrugged again. “When I got home, I didn’t recognize the name so I didn’t take them. I’m not that stupid.” She pulled a piece of straw from her hair. “I was going to check this Coumadin stuff out on the Internet but when I went to get the bottle from where I’d hidden it, the pills were gone. Oh well. I found something else to replace them soon enough.”

  “That’s it?” Lucy asked incredulously.

  “Yeah, that’s it. You planning on arresting me?” she asked, still unfazed.

  Lucy hesitated before saying, “But what about when you heard that Coumadin was the same drug used to kill Brinkley?”

  Allison didn’t speak for a moment as she processed this seemingly new information. “I didn’t know that ’til now.” The girl’s anxiety level was clearly growing. She toyed with the horse’s mane with distracted fingers. “It’s not like I read the papers. Besides, so what? I’m sure lots of people around here with bad tickers use that stuff. She narrowed her eyes wickedly. “It’s because most Americans are too fat.”

  “Stop pretending, Allison. Unfortunately for you, the bottle you stole was the only one in Quincy’s Gap. That’s how we know you killed Brinkley. We just followed the trail left by the pills.” Lucy’s tone instantly softened as she tried to work a confession out of the nervous girl. “Look, I know Brinkley did all three of you wrong, but you can fix that now, Allison. Just tell me where Amelia is and it will look really good for you later on. You’ve got to do something to help yourself now. You’re backed into a corner.”

  Allison’s eyes flicked back and forth between Lucy and James. Beads of sweat popped out on her forehead and she wiped them away with the back of her sleeve. “Brinkley knew about my drug problem,” she finally whispered. “He threatened to tell Chase all about it, but I told him to shove his blackmailing ways up his ass and that I wouldn’t pay. So, I had no reason to kill him.” She kicked at a bit of straw with her riding boot. “I was actually disappointed when Brinkley died.”

  “Because you don’t want to marry Chase, right?” James asked softly. “You don’t even love him, do you?”

  “No, I don’t!” Allison’s anger returned. “But he’s rich and he’s from a powerful family and any girl would consider herself lucky enough to have him,” she said in a scathing singsong. “Isn’t that right, mother?”

  “That’s right, Allison,” said a flat, emotionless voice from behind James and Lucy.

  Allison pushed past the stunned pair and moved toward her mother. Mrs. Shilling looked very different than she had a few days ago at the festival. Instead of a suit, high heels, and pearls, she wore a faded pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, and a down vest. Her white-blonde hair was tucked inside a red baseball cap and she wore black leather driving gloves on her hands.

  “Welcome to our home,” she said, wearing a cold smile that never reached her eyes.

  “Mrs. Shilling—?” James began.

  “Oh, call me Rachel. We don’t need to be so formal.” She uttered a strange laugh. “After all, you’re guests of mine now.”

  “Mother? What is going on?” Allison demanded.

  Rachel turned to her daughter. “You have caused me enough trouble for a lifetime. Go get me some duct tape from the tool shed and bring it back here.”

  Allison looked at her mother strangely. “But—”

  “NOW!” Rachel roared, and Allison hustled off.

  “It was you,” Lucy breathed. “You found out about the blackmail and you killed Brinkley.”

  Rachel smiled crookedly. “Well done, Sherlock. Yes, I killed him. Nothing is going to stop this wedding from taking place. Not some stupid, greedy boy, not you two, and none of Allison’s nitwit friends, either. My daughter is checking into a private rehab clinic this week and she’ll get over her . . . little problem.” She took a revolver from the front pocket of her vest. “Now, I’d rather not have Allison see this, as she has no idea of what I’ve sacrificed in order to ensure that she marries Chase Radford, but I will shoot you in front of her if you give me the slightest excuse to. Do we understand one another?”

  James and Lucy nodded miserably.

  Allison returned bearing a large roll of duct tape. She began disagreeing feveris
hly with her mother. Rachel put her hands on her hips and pointed toward the stable’s back door.

  “Go lock that!” she ordered, but Allison continued to argue.

  “We should have told Sheriff Huckabee we were coming out here,” James muttered under his breath. “I don’t think our plan has gone so well.”

  Lucy wore an expression of dismay. “I’m sorry, James. I guess this is what happens when you’re untrained in confronting suspects.”

  “Your heart was in the right place, Lucy,” James offered kindly. “You were merely thinking of Amelia’s welfare.”

  Allison had closed and locked the back door and was now shaking her head over her mother’s next order, which James hadn’t heard over his whispered exchange with Lucy.

  Suddenly, Rachel grabbed her daughter by the shoulders. “I said do it! These people have done terrible things and I’m going to make sure they don’t do them again!”

  “What things? I don’t get it!” Allison began to cry.

  Her mother ran a hand over her daughter’s wavy hair and gave her a quick hug. “Don’t worry, honey. Mommy knows what to do about everything. Just do what I say and let me handle this.”

  As Allison walked toward them holding a roll of duct tape, tears glistening on both cheeks, James could foretell what was about to happen. He looked over Allison’s head and tried to catch Rachel’s eye.

  “You don’t want to do this.” He forced himself to sound calm and reasonable. “You’re putting your family name in even more danger. There are at least three people who know what we know. They’ll call for help if we’re not back by later tonight. You should let Amelia go and turn yourself in.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you are not going to hurt my daughter.” Rachel took a step closer to them and barked, “Put your hands behind your backs, fatsos. I heard your whole conversation with my daughter. You were fumbling in the dark when you came here. For all we know, you’re the killers.” She moved even closer to them, her blue eyes burning with a feverish intensity. “And by the time any of your so-called friends come looking for you, you’ll be long gone.” Rachel drew the heads of her two captors close together so that she could whisper in both of their ears simultaneously. “You two and Amelia.”

  Lucy jerked her head away and softly uttered, “So then she is still alive!”

  “Hush up.” Rachel walked behind them so that she could watch her daughter’s handiwork with the tape. “Make it tighter, Allison. I don’t want them climbing out of the trailer in the middle of Highway 33.”

  “What are you going to do with them?” Allison’s voice rose shrilly.

  “Nothing you need worry about, you hear me? Now, get yourself back in the house and tell your father that I’ve gone to the lake overnight. If he asks why, just tell him that I’m stressed out and needed some alone time.” Rachel removed one of her gloves and examined her perfectly manicured nails. “He won’t bat an eyelash at that. And if anyone else comes snooping around here, call the police. We’ve got nothing to hide.”

  “So what did you do with your poodle mask?” Lucy asked derisively while tugging at her bound hands. James also tried to free himself, but Allison had effectively rendered them useless.

  Rachel took another step closer, a dangerous rage flaring in her eyes. “I’d be quiet if I were you.”

  “Allison! It’s your mother! She’s the killer!” Lucy quickly shouted as the girl moved toward the front door of the stable.

  Allison hesitated and Rachel immediately positioned herself so that she could draw her gun and press it against Lucy’s back. “One more peep out of you, and she’ll see someone die right before her eyes.”

  “She’s going to figure it out,” James said to Rachel in a hushed tone.

  “Maybe, maybe not, but she’ll be married soon and that’s all that matters. Go on, honey!” Rachel called to her daughter with false sweetness and the girl reluctantly obeyed.

  “Your daughter will never forgive you,” James stated plainly, and for the first time, Rachel seemed to consider the consequences of her actions. However, she seemed to shake off James’s suggestion as if it were a fly buzzing around her head.

  Waving the gun in front of their faces, she smiled crookedly once more. “Maybe not. But mothers know what’s best and I’m doing what’s best for my girl. Now”—she jerked the weapon toward the back door—“start walking. We’re going to go on a little trip.” She paused, breaking two more pieces of duct tape off of the shrunken roll. “But first, I’m going to put a stop to your endless babbling.” And with a flourish, she placed a strip of tape over both of their mouths.

  Opening the stable’s back door, Rachel gestured at them with her gun until they had walked around to the rear of a horse trailer parked next to the stable. Rachel slid a key into the padlock, unwound a linked chain, and threw open the metal double doors.

  Inside, sitting on a pile of straw, was Amelia Flowers. She shifted in alarm at the sight of Rachel Shilling and whimpered. When she spied James and Lucy, she suddenly grew silent and her head slumped to her chest. It was as if she recognized that her rescuers had arrived and that their rescue attempt had clearly failed.

  James was thrown roughly against a wall as the trailer made a sharp turn. Rachel had secured each of them to strong wall hooks using trailer ties as if her captives were horses. This way, they were unable to reach one another to make an attempt at untying their bonds. Lucy and Amelia had been tied to chest rails on opposite sides of the trailer and James had been fastened to the padded butt bar in the back. Though these bars were made of aluminum, they were incredibly strong and there was no hope of breaking or bending the metal.

  In the darkness of the moving vehicle, James found himself mournfully staring up through the narrow windows at a distant sickle of moon. For the last half hour, he had been trying to rub the end of the duct tape covering his mouth against his shoulder in hopes of working it free. He had made some headway, but each time he regained his balance and began working on the tape, the trailer seemed to lurch in one direction, forcing him to the ground again.

  Glancing once more at the moon, which seemed to be mocking him as it darted playfully in and out of string clouds, James steadied himself and pushed the tape completely off of one corner of his mouth. Within minutes, he had rubbed it off entirely.

  “Lucy! Amelia!” he said loudly over the roar of the trailer moving along the highway. “Try rubbing the end of the tape that’s on your mouth against your shoulder. I think you’ll be able to get it off.”

  In the dark, James could hear his companions moving about as they worked on the tape. James investigated the floor of the trailer with his legs, but found nothing but pieces of hay scattered across the metal floor. Kicking angrily, he then explored the sidewalls, but again, came up with nothing that would help them escape.

  “Got it!” Lucy exclaimed a moment later. “Boy, when I get my hands on that psychotic . . .” she began but ran out of breath.

  “Are you okay?” James asked.

  “Yes. I’m just mad. You?”

  James swallowed. “I’m fine. I’ve been trying to feel out my space with my feet, but there doesn’t seem to be anything I can use to cut my tape near me. Can you try searching where you’re sitting?”

  “Ugh!” Amelia spat. “I’ve been trying to get that damned tape off for like three hours. I think half of my lips are stuck to that piece!”

  “Amelia! We’re so glad to find you alive,” Lucy said, kicking out with her legs. “How are you doing, honey?”

  “I’d be better if we weren’t tied up in the back of some lunatic’s horse trailer!” James heard her fumbling around her space with her feet. “There’s nothing here that’s gonna help us. We’re screwed.”

  James waited for Lucy to say something consoling, but she remained silent.

  “Where do you think she’s taking us?” Amelia asked meekly.

  “I’d guess Lake Anna,” James replied. “It’s the most likel
y place for a lake house.”

  “That’s over an hour southeast of Quincy’s Gap,” Lucy mumbled. “Even if any of our friends or Sheriff Huckabee realize that we went out to Shilling’s Stables, they won’t be able to get it out of Allison that we’ve all been kidnapped until it’s too late.”

  “What does that mean?” Amelia shrieked. “What’s going to happen to us?”

  “Nothing,” James reassured the frightened girl. “There are three of us against one. Let’s focus on getting one of us untied so we have a fighting chance.”

  Lucy perked up. “You’re right, James. Even if we can’t get untied, one of us can jump on Rachel while someone else kicks the gun away.” James could hear the determination in Lucy’s voice. “We just have to keep our wits about us and wait for the right moment.”

  “We’re going to get out of here, Amelia,” James tried to soothe the girl across the darkened trailer. “Just hang in there. No one’s giving up.”

  “Okay,” Amelia responded bravely. “Then I won’t, either.”

  An hour and a half later, the trailer bumped to a stop and the three captives heard Rachel Shilling get out of the cab and slam the door. They heard her opening the rear door to the trailer and suddenly, the beam of a flashlight was blinding them.

  Rachel climbed into the trailer and untied their ropes from the hooks on the trailer wall. Each of her prisoners had ropes tied onto their bound wrists. Rachel gathered the individual lengths of rope and tugged on the lines with one hand, leaving enough slack to allow them to walk forward even though their hands were fastened behind their backs. She held out her gun and waved it until James, Lucy, and Amelia were persuaded into moving down the trailer’s ramp.

  “Come on!” Rachel shouted, jerking on the rope so roughly that Amelia almost lost her footing. “I’m already tired from driving down here.”