The Empty Chair ~ Murder in the Caribbean

by Penny Goetjen

  As the officer strutted toward her car, she rolled down her window. He leaned in, elbows resting on the window frame, shining the light in her face. He was a large man and took up most of the open window. Shielding her eyes, Olivia leaned away from his intimidating presence.

  The little pup growled but only half-heartedly. Under different circumstances it would have been cute. She placed a gentle hand on his back and shushed him softly. She tried to reassure him even though she felt anything but assured.

  “Ma’am, license and registration, please.” He moved the light over to the passenger seat to see what growled.

  “What seems to be the problem, officer?” She played the part of the innocent bystander.

  “License and registration, please.” Obviously he was not in a chatty mood.

  Olivia opened the glove compartment and pulled out the requisite paperwork, handing it and her license to the officer. Movement in the rearview mirror caught her eye. The officer’s partner was becoming interested in her situation. He exited the cruiser from the passenger side but stood between the two vehicles, talking into his shoulder mic.

  As she squinted in the bright light of the flashlight, her body shivered at the prospect of where she would be heading from there. A local lock-up? A foul-smelling cinderblock holding area? Wondering if there would at least be a separate area for women, she shuddered at the mess she had gotten herself into. Like mother, like daughter. Her father would be proud.

  “Miss Benning, I’m sure you’re aware there is a warrant out for your arrest.”

  His words hung in the air. Her body stiffened and felt cemented to the car seat. A lump formed in her throat.

  “You’ve been busy in the short time you’ve been on island. Might be a while until you see the light of day again, at least as a free woman.”

  They had her. She couldn’t believe it was all going to end like this. Her stomach twisted in a painful knot.

  The other cop popped in at the passenger side window. The pup sat up and growled again, directing his aggression toward the new arrival, but Olivia stroked his back and he settled down again. Her eyes welled at the thought she wouldn’t be able to take care of him.

  “Miss Benning?” He had his own flashlight that appeared even brighter than his partner’s, if that was possible. New batteries?

  “Yes?” Wincing from the lights in her face, she felt the full effect of being interrogated.

  “What are you doing out here at night? On Landfill Road?”

  She opened her mouth, contemplated possible answers, and decided to wing it. She wasn’t technically on Landfill Road, and they would have no way of knowing if she actually had been there.

  “I pulled my car over when I saw this little guy.” She reached over and stroked his fur. “He seemed to be lost. No collar. Didn’t seem to belong to anyone.”

  “Uh-huh.” The cop with the brighter flashlight didn’t seem all that interested in her story. Perhaps he had been expecting a different answer.

  Unable to see the second face past his light, she just looked in his general direction, trying to hold her ground.

  The officer at the driver’s side window seemed to be feeling left out. Still holding her paperwork, he cleared his throat but remained silent.

  Olivia slowly made out features on both of their faces. It looked as though the cop near the pup was an older man, perhaps a senior officer, who had gathered more information while he stayed behind in the cruiser.

  “Miss Benning, I was surprised to see your car on the side of the road. Kind of late to be out and about. Don’t you think?”

  Unsure where the conversation was going, Olivia was feeling exceedingly uncomfortable having two cops as bookends. She looked from one to the other, carefully considering her response. “Not so much.” She just threw it out there, as casual as she could make it sound, to see what would come back.

  “Miss Benning, do you know what your situation is right now?”

  She hung her head in shame. It was the end of the road for her.

  The junior officer came alive. “We were just discussing there is a warrant out for Miss Benning’s arrest.” His voice was firm, insistent on bringing his partner up to date. “Possession of an unregistered firearm, unlawful discharge of a firearm, resisting arrest, escape while in custody, and the list goes on from there.”

  Olivia cringed. The words cut into her. She had not intended for any of it to happen. But somehow it did. Her father would be so disappointed. Her mother . . . would be devastated. The latter transgression tore into her soul more than anything else could.

  The more senior officer took control. “Miss Benning, my partner and I need to have a moment. Excuse us.” He gestured with his head to the younger man to meet him behind her car.

  Olivia closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat, envisioning the gun in her hand on the gallery with Carson’s bloody body and then revisiting the bungalow completely engulfed in flames. She then moved quickly on to the horror she witnessed earlier at the landfill. If Colton was alive, was he on her side or not? She had no idea.

  A more immediate concern was her need to get out of there. If they took her into custody, she would no longer be able to search for her mother. And if she couldn’t do it, who would?

  She glanced into the side-view and rearview mirrors, trying to keep an eye on the officers.

  A new set of flashing lights approached from behind. More company. Apparently capturing a fugitive wanted for murder was a priority for the police. They had found their most wanted woman. The squad car pulled in front of Olivia’s car and backed up to close the space, sandwiching her between the two police cruisers. She was trapped. If escape had ever seriously entered her mind, it was no longer an option. She imagined she had the attention of at least half the officers on duty that evening.

  The two arriving officers walked past her car and up to the first responding officers, still standing behind her car, and exchanged a few words. Three of the men turned and walked back toward their vehicles while one of the later arrivals took his place at her passenger side window.

  Olivia sat still, holding her breath, waiting to hear him speak. He leaned in with his flashlight shining on his face, instead of hers. She recognized him as the officer who paid her a brief visit in the hospital. Detective Benson. The same hospital, of course, from where she had escaped. She closed her eyes and lamented the rash decisions that had led her to her current desperate situation.

  “Miss Benning?”

  “Yes.” She could barely speak the word. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes.”

  He turned his flashlight toward her. “Ma’am, are you all right?”

  Olivia was surprised by his apparent concern. “I’m fine.” As fine as anyone could be who was wanted for murder and had just escaped from the wretched grasp of animal abusers. But otherwise, she was fine.

  “You seem to be bleeding.” He pointed toward the side of her face.

  Olivia reached up and ran her hand down her cheek. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong. She didn’t feel anything unusual. Nothing hurt. But when she pulled her hand away, it felt wet. She turned the palm of her hand over and could see something red lit up by the flashlight. It didn’t make sense. As she turned to her newfound friend, Detective Benson shifted his light with her glance. In horror, she could see a gash on the side of the small pup’s body.

  “No!” Olivia was devastated to see he had been injured, possibly at the hands of her intended captors. She was beyond words. But he was the lucky one who appeared to have gotten a second chance. Somehow he had found his way out of the grisly mayhem and followed her to her car.

  “Poor little guy.” The detective reached down and touched the top of his head gently. The pup was done growling. He leaned into the officer’s hands. As the light shifted, he became lost in the darkness of the front seat and whimpered.

  “Why don’t I take him over to the animal shelter to get him some medical attention?” He reached
down to pick him up.

  Olivia lunged toward him, hand outstretched. “No! I’ll take him.” She didn’t want to let him go. If the cop took him, she would never see him again . . . but then again since she was essentially in police custody, she probably would never see him again, anyway.

  “We’ll be heading back that way. It’s not too far from the station.” The officer’s hands had stopped in midair. Olivia gasped as he scooped up the pup.

  Her heart sank as the detective turned and handed the innocent little ball of fur to his partner, who had been lingering near the trunk of their cruiser. She swore she would find him and rescue him again.

  Unexpectedly, the detective opened the passenger side door and slid in next to her, settling his oversized body into the seat. She winced as the overhead light illuminated the interior until he slammed the door shut. Suddenly the car felt smaller. An uncomfortably tight space. Confining. A strange smell permeated the vehicle. Stale cigar smoke? Appearing to be gathering himself, he directed his flashlight toward the floor. Finally he spoke.

  “Miss Benning, unfortunately our last meeting was rather brief.”

  She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “You left before we could get some things straightened out.”

  Olivia listened intently, trying to remain calm.

  “How is your shoulder doing, by the way?”

  She was not in the mood to discuss her shoulder.

  “It’s fine, much better,” she lied.

  “Oh, good to hear.”

  Unable to endure the small talk any longer, she was through beating around the bush. “Look, what exactly are the charges against me? I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” The anticipation of her mother’s shame chilled her to the core.

  “Well . . . initially we had some pretty hefty charges stacked up on you. It seemed like a tight case, especially with the gun found next to you and the gunshot residue on your hand. But then ballistics came back and changed everything.”

  “Ballistics?”

  “Yeah. Turns out you didn’t shoot Carson.”

  “What?” She was stunned at the revelation. Could it be true?

  “The caliber bullet pulled out of him did not match the gun you had used.”

  A flood of relief filled her. But it didn’t change the fact he had been shot. Poor guy. Her mother would be heartbroken.

  “There was only one shell casing from your gun where you had been standing, and we retrieved the bullet in the ground just a couple feet away.”

  “Then who—”

  “We’re working on the ‘who,’ but we located the casing from the bullet he or she used and whoever it was stood behind you, probably under cover of the brush. The bullet pierced your shoulder on its way to who we believe was its intended victim.” He cleared his throat in a loud raspy way.

  So that explained what happened to her shoulder.

  “The officers who initially stopped you this evening weren’t aware of this most recent information.” He motioned toward the officers behind them with his head. “I just got the results.”

  Olivia was speechless for a moment, elated by the news.

  “I suppose I could still hold you on escaping custody, but I don’t think we had a chance to read you your rights before you checked yourself out of the hospital. Besides, I’ve got more important matters to worry about. Like who actually shot him and why.”

  His last comment brought her back to the bottom line. She wished there was something she could do to change the facts. Her heart broke for Carson . . . and her mother.

  “Detective, I appreciate you letting me know—”

  “Oh, and these are yours.” He handed over her documents.

  “Thanks.”

  His walkie-talkie squawked, abruptly pulling his attention away from her. He held up a hand as if that justified the interruption, slipped the two-way out of his belt loop and held it close to his ear.

  Listening closely, she could make out something about Landfill Road. Report of shots fired. Working hard to maintain a face that looked disinterested, she reeled from the grotesque scene she had left behind that the officers would soon find.

  Detective Benson pulled his handheld radio to his mouth and indicated he was nearby and would respond. More squawking with other officers checking in and the dispatcher acknowledging. Finally he turned to her.

  “Ma’am, you’re free to go. I need to respond to this call.” He patted his two-way. “But I would like to talk further about the incident at your mother’s house. In the meantime, if you think of anything I should know, you give me a call.” He fished his card out of the left pocket of his standard-issue blue short-sleeved collared shirt. “I mean that. You call me. All right?” He took a swat at her shoulder in a clumsy attempt to connect in a friendly and supportive way.

  Olivia frowned at his awkward motions in the dimly lit car. “Okay, thanks. I will,” she blurted out to appease him.

  The detective grabbed the handle and opened the door, which illuminated the dome light briefly, causing her to squint again. He quickly exited her car, slamming the door behind him, and jogged to the squad car parked in front of her. He had a job to do.

  The cruiser spun out of the dirt alongside the road in order to change directions and head back toward the landfill. The squad car behind her replicated the movement.

  Kicking herself, she realized she should have asked the detective what Carson’s last name was. Could he be the CK who was sending cryptic faxes to her mother? Damn, she had missed her chance. Thinking back to the day she had met Carson, she realized she had lost the opportunity to ask him directly. She chastised herself for both blunders.

  Olivia sat alone in the car. No flashing lights. No cute puppy in the passenger seat.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Olivia drove slowly back up the mountain, visions of the events on Landfill Road haunting her thoughts. Realizing she had been foolish to go back into the lion’s den for a second night, she conceded she had risked her life and had nothing to show for it.

  With nowhere else to go, she decided with nervous trepidation to return to Colton’s place.

  Reaching the top of his driveway, she could just make out a car parked at the end of it. Keeping her eye on the vehicle, she descended the drive. At the bottom she was astonished to see it was Colton’s Jeep. She had been mistaken! It wasn’t him she had seen earlier. She couldn’t park her car and get out of it fast enough.

  She ran to the door and burst through it without knocking.

  “Colton!” she squealed, anxious to see him.

  There was no immediate answer.

  “Colton?” A little louder.

  She ran into the living area to find a man sitting on the far end of the couch, leaning back with one leg propped casually across his knee, one arm across the back of the couch and the other resting on the armrest she had slept on earlier. He held a can of beer in the hand on the arm rest.

  The man on the couch wasn’t Colton.

  Olivia stared at him, not sure what his presence meant.

  “Hello, David.” Her voice was uneven and a bit hoarse.

  “Olivia.” His face was solemn, clearly not there for a social visit.

  “Where’s Colton?” She choked on her words as a lump formed in her throat.

  “I thought you were him.”

  “Why is his car here?” Already suspecting she knew the answer, she desperately wanted a different explanation.

  “Because I drove it here.”

  Puzzled, Olivia looked at him. “I don’t understand.”

  “We were in his car heading back from our gig out in Red Hook, and he pulled over on Route 30 and got out. Told me to bring his car back here.”

  Images from the landfill flooded her mind again.

  “Oh, God.”

  “What the hell happened?” he demanded, his voice rising as he scooted toward the edge of the couch.

  Olivia was seeing a different side of David from the mee
k and mild, reluctant chauffeur she met the day she had arrived on the island.

  “I’m not exactly sure.” Her voice wobbled with her confession.

  “Tell me what you do know.” His voice boomed more loudly than would seem possible for such a small-framed man.

  She relayed what she could piece together. There wasn’t much to tell. Just a lot of unanswered questions.

  “I’ve got to go see if I can find him.” He smashed his beer can on the coffee table so hard the sides crumbled, reducing it to a fraction of its original size. Remnants of his beer sloshed out. Heading toward the door, his strides were long and deliberate. He stopped just short of being able to grab the knob and turned back toward her, his eyes ablaze with fury.

  Olivia was startled by his affront and took a step back even though he was already across the room.

  Pausing to point a grease-stained finger at her, he drew in an audible breath. “You have no idea what you have stirred up around here. . . . No idea.” In what appeared to be a threatening gesture or just added emphasis, he shook his finger at her. Turning back toward the front door and grabbing the knob, he mumbled, “I never should have made that phone call. Just trying to do the right thing. This is what happens.” He charged out, slamming the door behind him.

  She listened to the sound of Colton’s Jeep churning up gravel as it backed up and then sped up the driveway.

  What had she done? Was it Colton on Landfill Road? Was he participating in the unthinkable activity she would never comprehend or had he seen her car and tried to come to her rescue? Had she left him behind to take on the vicious men who had grabbed her? Not that she could have done much to help. God, she hoped it wasn’t him. If it was . . . she prayed he was all right.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Sleep did not come easily for her. She lay on the couch waiting and listening, hoping to hear the Jeep return to its spot at the end of the driveway. The sound never came. She paced the house trying to make sense of it all.