A History of Murder

by Lynn Bohart

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Adrenalin coursed through my veins as I stood in that basement and stared into the abyss. I’d solved the clues and believed Emily when she said she would play fair. We had a chance and could be free in a few minutes. But first we had to find our way out of a deep and dark underground tunnel.

  Doe had revived enough to get herself out of the chair, but she was wobbly on her feet.

  “I’ll go first,” I said to her. “But you’ll have to get onto the stairs yourself. If you have trouble, hopefully, I can help you from below. You okay with that?”

  She nodded. But she reached out and pulled the wheelchair over for support.

  “Okay,” I said, feeling jittery. I shifted my gaze to the camera in the corner. I contemplated saying something to Emily, who I knew was watching, but decided against it. I turned my back to the hole and reached backwards with my left foot.

  My foot met the top rung. Carefully, I backed down the stairs. My foot slipped at one point, making me grab the railing for support. So I called up to Doe. “Be careful. The stairs are slippery.” I pulled out my phone and shone the light below me. I was halfway to a dirt floor. “Okay, Doe. C’mon down.”

  She appeared at the opening and glanced down to where I hung onto the stairs below her. She teetered a bit, and I held my breath. I aimed the light as best I could up the stairs.

  “Thanks,” she murmured.

  She turned around and crouched down. She reached back with one foot and felt for the top step. She drew back her other foot and dropped it to the second step. I continued down the stairs, as she walked herself backwards. I reached the bottom and stepped off onto a hard-packed dirt floor.

  My instinct was to look around to see where we were, but I had to keep an eye on Doe. She was making slow progress. We had to hurry, but as I watched her descend, it occurred to me that even in this dangerous and insanely creepy situation, her clothes looked perfect. I wondered how long that would last as she wavered off the last step and onto the ground. She leaned against the staircase, breathless.

  “Good job,” I said.

  I used the light from the phone to get our bearings. We were in an underground dirt tunnel that was supported every fifteen feet or so with timber posts. Above us was another pulley wheel, where the rope connected to a lever that operated the trap door.

  Clever.

  But if I calculated correctly, we had less than an hour to make it out of the tunnel and off the Foster property before Mansfield came back. And he’d come back with a vengeance. We had to get moving.

  But first, I tried to make a call.

  “Damn! We’re too deep underground,” I said when it wouldn’t go through. “I should have tried it in the basement. C’mon, we have to go. Can you walk?”

  Doe let go of the staircase. “I think so.”

  I grabbed her hand and looped my arm through her elbow. “I’ll hold you up.”

  We started forward, but our progress was slower than I wanted. We had to be careful to avoid rocks and holes in the dirt floor where moisture had seeped into little puddles.

  When a rat squealed and scuttled out from under my foot, I screamed and stopped to take a deep breath. I inhaled, and the cloying smell of swamp water and mold almost shut off my airway.

  “God,” I whined. “This is awful.”

  “Keep going,” Doe urged me. “We have to keep going.”

  “You’re right.”

  We began again, a little more briskly. But twenty or thirty feet ahead I tripped and went down onto one knee. Doe fell sideways against the tunnel wall. I gasped for a breath and heaved myself back to my feet. I was about to reach for Doe when my phone began to play my mother’s anthem.

  “Mom,” I almost cried. “We need help. Doe and I have been abducted. We were being held in a basement and have escaped into a tunnel. There’s a madman on his way back here to kill us. We have to get out of the tunnel before he gets back, or we’ll die a horrible death. Can you alert the authorities?”

  “No. You know I can’t. I’m only connected to you.”

  I had to think quickly. “Mom, there’s an elevator in the house above us. It connects to the basement where we were being held. Can you short out the motor?”

  “Uh…I’m not sure. Listen, you get out of that tunnel and let me work on the elevator. But Julia…”

  The phone went dead, throwing us into darkness. I shook the phone in my hand and blindly clicked the buttons, but the battery was gone. I cried out in frustration.

  “Darn it! We’re on our own,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “She can’t do anything?”

  “She’s only ever helped with mobile devices or things that run on electricity. I’m not sure what she could do down here,” I said in the dark. “Hopefully, she can at least disable the elevator.” I knew the doubt had seeped into my voice. “Let’s keep going.”

  “I can’t see a thing,” Doe said fearfully.

  “Take my hand,” I said, reaching out.

  We played a form of blind man’s patty cake in the dark as we fumbled to find each other’s hands and clasp onto each other.

  “Okay, we’re going to have to be more careful,” I warned, grabbing Doe’s hand and forearm.

  We took a few steps forward and stumbled over something, almost tumbling to the ground.

  Doe groaned. “God, I nearly twisted my ankle.”

  She was breathing heavily now, probably partly from fear and partly from exertion.

  “Okay, listen. Let’s slide our feet forward. But as we do, I’m going to count one-two as we take each step. We push forward a step, plant one foot firmly on the ground and then move forward again.”

  “That will take us forever,” she said with a moan.

  “Better than killing ourselves in the process. So, here we go. First step…slide forward one.”

  We each pushed forward a step.

  “Okay? Two.”

  We took another step.

  “One,” I repeated. “Now, two.”

  We continued in that slow and aggravating way for a good twenty minutes, until I screamed when something grazed my head. I stopped abruptly, my heart beating wildly.

  “It’s just a tree root,” Doe said.

  “How do you know? It could be a spider web,” I said. “Either way, I hate it. I hate all of this!”

  I stopped when a sob caught in my throat. I flinched when Doe reached out in the darkness and placed her hand on my shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Julia. We’ll get out of this. How long has it been?” she asked.

  “You mean since Mansfield left? I don’t know. God I hope he can’t find Blair.”

  “She can take care of herself,” she said, her voice betraying the lack of confidence she felt.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked her.

  “A little better. I need fresh air though. Are you up to continuing?”

  “Yeah. At least Emily hasn’t come after us. But let’s get out of here. This tunnel has to end somewhere.”

  I was just about to start out again when something began to glow in front of us. I heard an intake of breath from Doe.

  “What the heck?” she murmured.

  The glow expanded into the hazy outline of what appeared to be a woman.

  “Who is it?” Doe asked in alarm.

  “I have no idea.”

  We clasped our hands more tightly together. I felt something brush my elbow, and I wheeled around.

  A second glow had appeared just behind me.

  “Doe, look!”

  The luminous image of a woman, a young woman, stood behind me and to my left. I glanced back and forth between the two of them. Each of the women had long hair and both appeared to be naked. I inhaled, feeling slightly dizzy.

  “Oh my God! Doe, I think these are women Mansfield has killed.”

  As soon as I said it, the one in front of us nodded once. Behind her, a third image appeared. And then a fourth, further down the tunnel.
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br />   “They’re lighting the tunnel for us,” Doe said with excitement. “C’mon, Julia, let’s go!”

  “Thank you,” I called out to them. “Thank you! Thank you!”

  I dropped the phone into my pocket, and we moved forward, quickly now, aided by the soft illumination from the ghosts. We walked for what seemed like forever, following the twists and turns of the tunnel. Tree roots had indeed invaded the walls and ceiling in places, hanging down to brush our heads, but now we could just push them aside.

  As we progressed, the ghostly images would fade in place and then appear further ahead. There were five in total, each similar and yet different.

  The tunnel grew increasingly cold and damp, raising goosebumps on my arms. We passed some discarded lumber and empty cans along one wall. Finally, the tunnel ended at a metal door. A heavy padlock made me panic. I rushed forward and shook it, but it didn’t budge.

  “No!” I screamed, banging my fists against the door. I turned to the closest ghost. “I don’t suppose you can magically open locked doors.”

  She stared at me, her dark eyes expressionless.

  “I wish I had my gun,” Doe said in a breathy voice.

  “Dang, me too.” I looked around my feet. “Wait.” I found a large, flat rock. “Maybe this will work.”

  I moved up to the lock and smashed it with the rock. The rock splintered, cutting my fingers, but the lock stayed. I found another rock and did the same thing. Again, no luck.

  Wiping blood off on my jeans, I returned up the tunnel to where I’d seen a short two-by-four and brought it back. Holding it with both hands, I lined myself up with the door and came down on the lock with an overhead blow.

  The lock broke.

  I exhaled with relief and then quickly removed it.

  “C’mon, Doe. Time to go home.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  I pulled open the door, allowing a fresh breeze to flood the tunnel and fill my lungs with the bracing salt air.

  We stumbled through the door into a gulley that rose about ten feet on each side, lit only by the full moon. I turned, but the ghosts had faded back into the tunnel.

  “They’re gone,” Doe murmured.

  “I guess they did their job. Or maybe they can’t go beyond the tunnel.”

  “I need to sit down, Julia,” Doe said.

  She lowered herself onto a boulder with a heavy sigh.

  I glanced around us. I had no idea where we were, or even if we had gotten clear of the Foster property. And if we hadn’t, we were still prisoners.

  “We need to get out of here, Doe. It’s been over two hours and Mansfield could be on his way back by now, with or without Blair.”

  “I know,” she said. “Just give me a minute.”

  I wanted to leave, to run, but recognized that Doe was in a weakened state. “Okay, a short break. Tell me how they got you. I mean, back at your house?”

  Doe took a deep breath. “Emily showed up with one of her photo albums and just waltzed in,” she said. “I was so shocked, I didn’t say anything. She asked for a glass of water. When I came back, I had my phone out to call you. But she was standing by the coffee table and had the photo album open, with a picture in her hand that she wanted me to see. I leaned over to look, and someone, probably Mansfield, came up behind me and stabbed me in the neck with a syringe.”

  “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Doe. They got me with chloroform.”

  I was pacing back and forth in front of her, anxious to go. Doe finally pushed off from the rock. “Okay, let’s get out of here. But which way?”

  I turned toward the sound of the surf. “The moon rises in the east and sets in the west, right?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure there’s a big home north of the Foster property, so let’s head that way.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t work,” a male voice stopped us.

  We both jerked our heads up to the top of the rise on our left. Mansfield stood outlined in the moonlight, holding the gun again and a small flashlight. My heart sank.

  “You’re back,” I murmured in defeat.

  “Yes, and it looks like I made it just in time. I wouldn’t want you to start the party without me.”

  The buzzing began in my ear again. “What about Blair?” I asked.

  He paused before replying. “It seems she was more resourceful than I anticipated. But I’ll attend to her later.”

  Inwardly, I cheered for Blair. At least she was safe for now. Not so for us. As I contemplated our situation, Mansfield came down from the hill.

  “Now, let’s just march right back up that tunnel to the basement again,” he said, gesturing with the gun.

  “Why not just shoot us here?” I asked, feeling I had nothing to lose.

  “Too messy. I like things where I can control them.”

  “It’s all about control with you, isn’t it?” I snapped.

  “Quit stalling, Mrs. Applegate. Let’s go.”

  As we turned toward the tunnel again, I got a glimpse of Doe’s face as a ray of moonlight cut across the gulley. Her beautiful features were etched with a sadness that cut me to the core.

  We were going to die.

  We took two steps toward the tunnel, when the door slammed shut with a hollow echo.

  “What the hell?” Mansfield shouted.

  Keeping the gun pointed in our direction, he rushed forward and pulled on the door. It didn’t budge.

  “Emily!” he cried. “Open the door!”

  There was no sound except the surf crashing somewhere behind us. When a glow appeared around the edges of the steel door however, I said to him, “I don’t think it’s Emily.”

  “Yes, it is,” he growled. He slammed his fist on the door, kicked it, and shouted again. “Open the door, you crazy bitch!”

  Mansfield had almost forgotten about us. We both inched backwards. I had no idea how we could get away, but I began to look for something to use as a weapon.

  And then he reached out and grabbed the metal bar handle on the door and shook it trying to pull the door open. The door handle began to glow red, and a second later, he screeched and let go. He backed up with his hand outstretched, palm up.

  “God damn it!” he shouted, shaking his hand in pain.

  Doe and I just stared in shock. It was the ghosts. They wouldn’t let him back in the tunnel. My heart nearly sang. But could they help us any further?

  As if he heard my thoughts, he spun in our direction. “That won’t help you. Let’s go! Back to the house.”

  He gestured for us to climb the hill. We did as he said and scrambled up the small rise, holding onto each other as we went.

  Doe whispered to me when we reached the top. “Maybe if we both go after him.”

  “No,” I whispered back. “Too risky. Just do as he says.”

  “Here, take this,” he said.

  I turned and he threw the small flashlight at me.

  I barely caught it before we were herded onto a small path that wound in and out of the trees. Tendrils of ivy and other creeping vines crawled up tree trunks and along the ground, threatening to trip us. Although he kept urging us forward at a faster pace, I went slow – partly to stay safe on the trail and partly to stall for time.

  We trudged along like criminals on our way to our own executions, which we kind of were. It took us a good ten minutes to make it to a clearing where we could see the lights from the house in the distance.

  I stopped mid-stride and doubled-over, a wrenching pain clenching my stomach. I couldn’t go back there.

  “Keep going,” Mansfield ordered from behind.

  But I didn’t budge. I just couldn’t.

  “C’mon, you old biddy. Move, or I’ll shoot you right here!”

  “No,” I replied.

  Better that, I thought. Better to be shot than tortured. The smell of pine and sagebrush, which would have normally enthralled me, made me think this wasn’t a bad place to die.

  B
ut then Doe reached out and placed a hand on my arm. “C’mon, Julia. Don’t give up yet. Not yet.”

  I took a deep breath, swallowed hard and straightened up to keep going. But the going was tough; the terrain was uneven and rocky. Twice, Doe stumbled and fell. And when we entered the trees again, several branches slapped me in the face. As we descended a small incline, I slipped and slid to the bottom.

  “Are you okay?” Doe called out.

  “Yes,” I said. I was breathing hard and my hip hurt. In the distance, I could hear a car approaching on the road somewhere nearby. The thought that someone who could help was so close made my heart flutter. If we could only get a message to someone on the outside. But as the sound diminished, I hefted myself back onto my feet with a feeling of deep sadness.

  “Hurry up,” Mansfield growled.

  “Would you rather carry me?” I snapped. He didn’t answer, so I turned to Doe. “Be careful, Doe. It’s steep.”

  Doe reached out and grabbed branches as she descended the hill, taking small steps. At the last minute, her foot slid out from under her and she fell, too, awkwardly rolling the rest of the way down.

  “Ow!” she cried out, rubbing her ankle when she came to a stop. “Oh, damn. This happens in every bad chase movie ever made.”

  I crouched next to her. “Did you twist it?”

  “Yes,” she said, wincing with pain.

  “Great,” Mansfield said. “Get the old cow back on her feet. My patience is running out.”

  “Why should we hurry? You’re just going to kill us anyway?” I snarled back.

  “Yeah, and if you don’t, I’ll shoot you here and let the animals take care of you.”

  “No you won’t. Not the pristine Mansfield Foster. Like you said, too messy. And when they found us, every finger would point at you.” He kept quiet at that, so I took a breath and looked around me. “Hold on.” Before he could stop me, I grabbed a sturdy branch off the path and ripped off some of the smaller branches. I handed the improvised walking stick to Doe.

  She took it and I helped her up so she could lean on it. With a nod, she said, “Seems like a lot of work just to get snuffed out by this guy.”

  “No kidding,” I murmured, with my head turned away from him. “But I for one don’t intend on going quietly. No matter what, hang onto this. It’s the only weapon we have.”