Since being elected sheriff a few years ago, Wade had come to know the trailer park well. Most of the residents were peaceful folk. But he’d been here a few times for domestic disturbances and a couple drug busts as well.
Back when Jamie had lived in the family trailer alone, after the Lachlans’ mother died, and long after Dougal had moved to New York, Wade had dropped in on her a few times, to see how she was doing. So he knew exactly where to go.
Liz had purchased the trailer from Jamie just a few months ago, and nothing much seemed to have changed. From the outside, the tidy park model home was quiet. Liz Brooks’ rusted green Jeep was the only vehicle in the driveway. If she’d gone to Portland as she’d claimed, it wasn’t in her own vehicle.
Wade glanced at the neighboring units, then back at this one. Liz’s trailer was the only one to have all the blinds drawn. Why? There was certainly no bright sunshine that needed to be blocked out today.
Something was definitely wrong.
Wade called into dispatch to let them know where he was and to request backup from the FBI. Then he got out of his SUV and followed the worn path to the trailer. A tub of red geraniums provided a cheerful note of color in the cool, gray day.
He walked past it, to the door. Then leaned in close to listen.
Despite the closed windows, had the TV been on, or people talking, he would have been able to hear. But all was silent.
He knocked loudly. “Sheriff’s department. Open up now.”
Immediately something started making a thumping sound inside the trailer. It was coming from the back. Wade heard nothing else, just the thumping.
He knocked, and called out again. Then pulled out his gun and broke down the door.
In the aftermath of smashing the door, the trailer was eerily silent. Wade scanned the space looking down the sight of his Glock. The place was a mess, but no one was here.
And then the thumping started up again. From the room at the back.
On the sofa in the sitting area was a mess of pillows and blankets. In the kitchen dirty dishes covered the countertop and small table. A small hallway led past a bathroom—empty—to the closed door of what had to be a bedroom.
Wade held his ear to the door for a few moments, but heard nothing beyond the thumps. Quickly he swung open the door and raised his gun.
Liz Brooks had been tied to the bed with her wrists and ankles bound tight and duct tape over her mouth. The noise he’d heard had been her feet pounding against the footboard.
Her eyes were wide as he called out her name.
“Anyone hiding in here?”
She shook her head no, but he checked anyway, in the closet and under the bed.
When he was certain this was no ambush, he went to Liz’s aid, removing the tape as gently as possible before getting out his knife to saw away the trussing of tough plastic cords.
“Are you okay?”
“F-fine.” She started to cough and he grabbed her a glass of water from the kitchen. While she was drinking he checked the bedroom on the other side of the sitting area. A white sheet had been nailed on the far wall. In front of that was a small table and a chair, while the bed had been pushed to the other side of the room.
If he’d had any doubts he was in the right place, they were gone now.
He went back to Liz, who had finally cleared her throat and was able to talk.
“Ed Lachlan. He has Chester.”
“Where did they go?”
“I don’t know. He was driving a gray SUV. Might have been a Ford Escape.”
Wade called in the information, then sat down beside Liz. “How long has he been here?”
“Ed was waiting here when I finished work on Wednesday. He’d found the spare key I keep under the geranium pot. Stupid of me, I guess.”
“If I’d known that I wouldn’t have had to break down your door,” Wade said, hoping to lighten the mood.
“I don’t care about the door. Thank you for finding me.”
Relieved to see the color returning to her cheeks, Wade pressed on with his questions. “What time did you come home on Wednesday?”
“Around five. He had Chester hidden in this bedroom where I couldn’t see him. I think he’d drugged him with something. He told me he had something of my father’s, and foolishly I asked him what that was. The next thing I knew, he’d pulled a gun on me.”
Wade felt like punching something. Preferably Ed Lachlan’s face. “And he’s kept you and Chester hostage here ever since?”
“Yes. I wasn’t always tied up, mostly just at night. He told me if I did anything to give him away he’d shoot Chester dead, right there and then.”
“You don’t happen to remember the plates on that Ford Escape do you?”
“Sorry no.” And then she started to cry.
chapter twenty-six
By the time Dougal caught up to the man and the boy, they were standing about ten feet from the edge of the cliff, unprotected from the steady rain and the buffeting wind. Ed had his arm around Chester’s back.
Something was wrong with Chester. He was swaying like a drunkard, and when Ed removed his supporting arm the boy sank to the ground.
“What’s wrong with him?” Dougal called out, over the wind.
He began to run toward them, but stopped when Ed drew a gun from the pocket of his heavy duty raincoat.
“What the hell?”
“Slow down boy. All in due time.”
Ed smiled. The asshole was enjoying this. He didn’t even seem to mind the weather. The Gortex was protecting his body from the elements, but he wasn’t wearing a hood and his gray hair and beard were completely sodden.
With exaggerated patience Dougal repeated his question. “What did you do to Chester?”
“Stop fussing. Gave the boy some Special K for breakfast. He’ll be fine.”
Dougal suspected he wasn’t referring to cereal, but the street name for ketamine. “How much?”
“Just enough to make him sleep for a bit. I know what I’m doing.”
“Bring Chester to me.”
“Be patient son. I’ve waited a long time for this moment. It’s good to see you in person finally.”
“You saw me many times when you were pretending to be Monty Monroe in that apartment in New York.”
“You had no idea who I was back then. This is much more satisfying.”
Maybe for you. Dougal kept his wise cracks to himself. He wasn’t going to screw this up by losing his cool and antagonizing Ed. If Ed wanted to pretend this was some heartfelt father-son reunion, he would let him.
“The book is going to be a big hit. It’s already climbing the bestseller charts.” Ed chortled. “Didn’t I tell you this story would make your career?”
He was probably right. And it was a bitter pill to swallow, that this book, the one Dougal had only written under duress and with absolutely no pleasure, would end up being the book he would be most remembered for.
“I can’t tell you how good it feels, to finally expose those Hammonds for the sick bastards they are. I only wish John and Patricia were still alive. But at least their memories will be tainted forever.”
The man was so delusional. It was true the Hammonds had not been the pillars of respectability they’d held themselves out as. But Ed had killed six innocent women and one child. And that seemed to mean nothing to him.
But Dougal wasn’t here to hold Ed accountable for his actions.
“Let me have Chester.”
“I told you to be patient.” Ed was slowly moving away from Chester and closer to the ledge. He nodded at Dougal, as if he should follow. Was Ed planning to kill him, then toss his body out to sea?
Instead of doing Ed’s bidding, Dougal started toward Chester.
“Stop!” Ed pointed his gun at the boy. “I’ll kill him if you move any closer.”
Dougal froze. “You promised to return him unharmed.”
“And I will. As long as you do as I instruct.”
Dougal
let his arms drop to his sides. “Okay. Instruct me.”
“Just stay exactly where you are. In exactly one minute I’m going to toss this gun into the sea. At that point you will have a choice. You can either go to Chester. Or you can come after me.”
Dougal shook his head, trying to figure out the trap, because he knew his father had an angle. He always did.
“If you run to Chester, you’ll give me enough time to run and escape. Don’t let my age deceive you, I have kept myself in excellent physical condition. I also have the perfect strategy worked out. If you let me go now, neither you nor the law will ever see me again.”
“Of course,” Ed continued. “You could just push me over the cliff, too. Later you could claim it was an accident.”
Dougal stared at him in horror.
“What? I can see the hatred in your eyes. Don’t try to pretend you wouldn’t like to see me dead and out of your life. Forever.”
As Dougal stared at his father, he realized the rain had stopped. Improbably the sky had lightened enough that he could see his father’s eyes. Eyes that everyone said were so like his own.
Growing up as Ed Lachlan’s son he’d always felt as if he was on the precipice of a black hole. He’d been certain that if he ever tried to get inside his father’s head, he’d fall right into that hole and never come up again.
But he’d been wrong. Because he’d spent the past intense week living inside his father’s deepest and darkest thoughts. He’d chronicled Ed Lachlan’s story and he’d come out the other side.
Now here he was, with the man he hated most in the world and he felt no urge to push, to kill, to obliterate.
Charlotte had spoken the words to him so many times.
Only now did he finally believe them.
You are not him.
“Throw away the gun,” he challenged his father. “See what happens.”
Ed gave him a nod.
And then he did it, he actually tossed his gun out into the Pacific. For just a second Dougal hesitated. But only a second.
And then he was running for Chester, scooping the boy into his arms and checking his vital signs. Only once he’d determined that his father had been telling the truth and that the boy was merely drugged into a stupor, did he glance up to see where Ed had gone.
But Ed hadn’t gone anywhere. He was still on the ledge. And he was smiling.
“Katie was the only person who ever saw any good in me. She was the kindest, most beautiful woman in the world. When she asked me to leave her, it killed me. I would have never hurt her. Or you. Or your sister.”
Then Ed Lachlan turned and jumped off the cliff.
chapter twenty-seven
Charlotte sat at the kitchen table, staring out the window while Jamie and Cory emptied the dishwasher. She felt she ought to be helping, but her body and her heart felt leaden. She wished Dougal had permitted her to accompany him. He shouldn’t be facing his father alone.
Outside a weak ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, turning the raindrops clinging to the blades of grass on the side lawn into a million sparkling diamonds. Was that a good sign?
And then her phone rang. She snatched it up.
“I’ve got Chester.” Dougal sounded out of breath, but okay. “He’s been drugged with ketamine but other than that he seems fine. I’d take him to a clinic but I think it will be better for him to be home.”
“Yes. Bring him home.”
Jamie and Cory crowded beside her. Jamie squeezed her shoulder, while Cory whispered, “What’s happening?”
“Will do,” Dougal said. “See you soon.”
Realizing he’d disconnected, Charlotte set down the phone and turned to her niece.
“Dougal’s bringing Chester home. They’ll be here, soon.” As she said the words, she realized she couldn’t quite believe they were true.
“Oh, thank God, thank God.” Jamie cried as she hugged first Charlotte and then Cory.
And then all three of them were having a big group hug. Charlotte could feel her heart expanding, and at the same time becoming lighter, as she shed the thousand fears and worries she’d carried the past, long week.
“I’m not going to be able to believe it until I actually see him.”
“Me, too,” Jamie agreed.
“Let’s wait outside,” Cory suggested.
By the time they’d slipped on their shoes, Charlotte could hear a vehicle approaching. She linked arms with Jamie and Cory, and they went out to the porch like that, as a team. A family.
As Dougal’s vehicle nosed past the media circus outside their house, suddenly Deputy Field stepped forward to clear a path for Dougal. As he swept Chester into his arms, cameras flashed and reporters shouted out questions, but Dougal ignored them all.
“Oh my God, Chester’s practically comatose!” Jamie cried as Dougal came round to the back porch.
Dougal sought out Charlotte’s gaze, with a message she didn’t understand, other than to realize that while Chester might be home, something bad had happened out there.
As Dougal lifted the boy, Charlotte reached for Chester’s head, needing to touch him and reassure herself he was real. His hair was soaked through from the rain, as was the grey hoodie he was wearing.
“How much of that drug was he given?”
“Not sure. But I called 911 before I called you. Paramedics should be here shortly.”
Gently Dougal set her nephew down on the chaise lounge. Cory dropped to her knees beside her brother and put her hands on his face.
“Wake up Chester.”
Her brother’s eyelids fluttered, then opened. Charlotte gasped when she saw his eyes were moving in rapid, jerking motions.
“It’s the ketamine,” Dougal murmured. “Don’t worry, it’s not serious.”
Charlotte crouched beside her niece, touching Chester’s face, the side of his neck. “You’re home Chester. You’re home and you’re safe.”
Jamie had run inside and now she returned with a glass of water. Charlotte immediately tried to get Chester to drink. To her relief, when he felt the glass press against his lips, he automatically took a sip.
“Good, keep drinking honey. It will help get rid of the drugs.” As she kissed his cheek, she was dimly aware that a siren was growing progressively louder.
The next hour was mayhem. First the paramedics swarmed Chester, checking his vital signs, testing his level of consciousness and listening to his heart and lungs.
Along with the paramedics, came the FBI and Dougal stepped aside with them for a long discussion. Once that was done with, Chester was already much improved. He asked to use the washroom, then he changed into a clean sweat suit and allowed Charlotte to towel dry and brush his hair.
Charlotte was relieved when Chester asked for something to eat. She made him his favorite toasted cheese and tomato sandwich and also filled a glass with milk.
“Anyone else hungry?”
But no one was. All they wanted was to be near Chester, to reassure themselves that he was truly here, home and safe. When Chester took a stool at the island, Jamie and Cory flanked him, Cory sitting so close to her twin that their shoulders touched.
Dougal however, was hanging out in the eating alcove, watching out the window as if he was expecting someone. Charlotte couldn’t tell if he was more relieved, or saddened. While the paramedics were examining Chester, he’d told her about his father’s suicide. She wanted to comfort him—if that was what he needed.
But she wasn’t ready to let Chester out of her sight.
Chester devoured the sandwich like he hadn’t eaten all day.
“Did that man give you any food?” Cory asked.
“The lady cooked regular food for us. But the man gave me chips and Cokes.”
“The lady?” Charlotte asked.
“The cleaning lady,” Chester elaborated.
“Liz Brooks?” Jamie prompted.
Chester nodded.
“Is that where you were? In Liz Brooks’ trailer?�
�
“I guess so.”
Charlotte glanced pointedly at both Jamie and Dougal. So Wade had been correct. But where was Liz now?
“She was nice,” Chester continued. “She kept telling him to let me go. But the old guy—he said to call him Ed—he wouldn’t do it.”
“Did he—hurt you?” The paramedics had given her nephew the all-clear, but Charlotte needed to be sure.
“No.” Chester shrugged.
“Were you scared?” Cory asked.
Chester hesitated, and his gaze dropped to the island. “The man told me he wasn’t going to hurt me. But in movies, whenever the bad guys say that, they’re always lying.”
“Oh, honey.” Charlotte couldn’t stand to think of the agonies he’d suffered. She looked over to where Dougal had been standing, to thank him for all he’d done to save her nephew.
But Dougal was no longer standing by the window. He wasn’t in the room, period.
* * *
When Dougal, keeping vigil at the kitchen window, spotted the sheriff’s SUV pulling up to the Hammond house, he quietly exited and went out to greet him.
He’d reported Ed Lachlan’s suicide when he’d called 911 earlier, and he’d already given a preliminary statement to the FBI. But he figured, eventually Wade would check in with them.
And now, here he was.
“Hey Dougal,” Wade stepped out of the SUV looking the way Dougal felt right now. As if he’d just gone ten rounds with Rocky Balboa. “How’s Chester?”
“Inside. The paramedics have checked him over and he’s doing amazingly well. Having a sandwich as we speak.”
“That’s a huge relief.”
“It is.”
Wade stopped a few feet in front of him. “I’m not sure what to say about your dad. I’m guessing you’re not interested in condolences.”
Dougal shook his head. “I’m having trouble processing it. Of all the ways I pictured today going down, having Ed commit suicide wasn’t one of them. I’m still trying to figure out if there was some way he faked it, and is now in a luxury jet headed for Costa Rica.”
exposed (Twisted Cedar Mysteries Book 3) Page 18
