by Holly Quinn
The sound of a door creaking as it slowly opened made the hairs stand up on the back of Sammy’s neck. She froze for a moment and held her breath. The sound seemed to be coming from the back of the house. She craned her neck for a better visual but then heard that the heating element had recently kicked in. The slope of the old wood floors along with the clanging radiators must’ve caused the door to move. Either that or it was her sister nearby.
“Ellie?” Sammy whispered. “Ellie, is that you?”
Sammy heard no response. She waited a moment, huffed a nervous breath, and continued with her search.
A laptop sat open atop the desk, and Sammy clicked the button and powered it to life, sending a glow into the dark room. Her fingers worked the keys to seek the last Google search. Dicamba was the most recent search on the computer.
Dicamba?
Sammy secretly wondered if this was the name of the poison that had killed Wanda. She followed the search to investigate. Upon further reading, she found that dicamba was a chemical weed killer used on farm crops. This search didn’t initially surprise Sammy and felt like a dead end, as Marty sold seeds to farmers. But as she dug deeper, she learned that dicamba was a newer chemical used because Roundup seemed to no longer be working on the farm fields due to new superweeds. A superweed was a weed extremely resistant to herbicides, especially one created by the transfer of genes from genetically modified crops into wild plants. These new superweeds were popping up everywhere as they became resistant to Roundup, causing farmers to seek a new solution. Dicamba, according to the article, was controversial, as proper testing hadn’t been done. In addition, the company selling the new herbicide also confirmed that farmers would have to buy genetically modified seed exclusively from them, as theirs was the only seed that could survive the harsh chemicals.
Sammy fished her cell phone from her pocket and snapped a photo so she could research this further, just as a chiming grandfather clock in the distance reminded her that time was ticking. She needed to hurry.
She next clicked on an Excel spreadsheet on the desktop and noted a ledger of potential seed customers. She snapped another quick photo with her cell. Maybe one of these farmers could provide insight on Marty’s whereabouts?
“Sammy!” Her ears perked at the sound of her sister’s muffled voice. She quickly powered down the computer and carefully rolled the desk closed. She followed the beam of light to where she thought she’d heard her sister’s voice. “Ellie, I’m coming! Say something so I can find you!” She cuffed a hand to her ear and strained to listen.
When Sammy returned to the front of the house, she heard Ellie again. “Up here.”
She followed the light and was surprised to see Ellie at the top of the ornate spindled staircase.
“Come up here.” Ellie was summoning with a glove-covered hand. “You’ve gotta see this.”
Sammy made the climb and met her sister at the top of the stairs. She was huffing and puffing by the time she reached the top, reminding her that her lack of exercise due to the cold winter was rearing its ugly head. “What’s the matter?” she said when she finally caught her breath.
“I think I found what we’re looking for.” Ellie ushered her sister into a nearby room at the top of the stairs. There was only one problem. The gun cabinet in front of them was ajar, and very empty, with not even one rifle to be found. Someone had beat them there, and the gun cabinet was wiped clean.
Chapter Fifteen
“Whaddya think? You think Jackson found a key to his sister’s house and beat us here. Or did someone else empty the cabinet? Randy would’ve said something to me if he had found it left ajar and empty like this. No doubt about it. He didn’t mention a thing at Tyler’s birthday dinner about this, not a thing.” Sammy pointed to the solid oak cabinet with a deer etched in the glass that took up a better part of the wall. “It looks like whoever was in here searching was in a hurry and knew exactly what they were looking for. Maybe Marty found a way to escape his captor and came back here looking for his stash and guns to protect himself? What does your gut say?”
“My gut says I want to throw up,” Ellie said sarcastically. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold back,” she added as she placed the back of her gloved hand to cover her mouth. Her face scrunched as if she was tasting something nasty.
After a long pause, Ellie said, “What do we do now?”
“Well, it’s not like we can phone Jackson at two thirty in the morning and see if he just happened to stop by.” Sammy rolled her eyes. “I imagine if it was Jackson, though, he would’ve closed the doors and not left the cabinet wide open, in case Marty returned. Wouldn’t you think? Maybe the police were here and left it open. Something’s fishy.”
“This sucks,” Ellie huffed. “I feel like this was all a colossal waste of time. Did you happen to find anything of interest downstairs?”
Sammy scratched her jaw and sighed. “No. Not really. Nothing earth-shattering.”
“How am I going to protect my husband now?” Worry riddled Ellie’s face.
Sammy’s cell phone chimed in her pocket. “That must be Heidi.” She fished her cell out of her pocket and clicked on the screen with her text-messaging glove to read only two words: Abort! Abort!
Sammy’s adrenaline immediately kicked into overdrive as if she’d had one too many caffeinated drinks from Liquid Joy, causing her heart to thunder in her chest. She took a calculated breath to steady herself.
Ellie peeked over Sammy’s arm to see the message, and instantly her eyes bulged to twice their usual size. “Oh yeah, this night can’t possibly get any better! Now this really sucks. We gotta get outta here … like now!” she said in a panicky voice, grabbing her sister by the arm—almost pulling it from the socket—and dragging her toward the staircase. The two ran like a train of cars, as quickly as they could without slipping, all the way down to the bottom.
When they reached the foyer, Sammy said, “Grab your boots!” She reached down and plucked her wet boots from the front mat and tucked them under her arm, leaving a path of drips in her wake. She turned to encourage her sister to do the same with her free hand. “Hurry! We’ll have to escape out the back! We’ll put our boots on back there. Come on!”
Sammy shone her penlight back on the narrow strip of pine floorboards, and they hurried to the back of the house, where they both instantly saw a shining beam of light traveling through the window, as if someone was already casing the joint from the outside. “This way,” Sammy beckoned as they hid behind an inside kitchen wall, both breathing heavily but deathly silent. Neither dared utter a word. After no sign of further bouncing light within the confines of the house, they traveled cautiously room to room, looking for an escape. Every few feet they would hide, their backs firmly pressed against the interior walls. Finally, Sammy opened a door that led to a musty early-1900s cellar.
“Are you crazy? We’re going to get caught locked in that dingy place!” Ellie backed away from the door and shook her head, covering her nose. “What is it with you and basements! Bad idea! Not a chance.” Ellie dropped a boot from her grip, and her eyes bulged at the noise as if she had just given them away. She hurried to retrieve it from the floor.
“Ellie, come on! We have to go down there or potentially get arrested.” Sammy’s eyes darted with fear. “Your call … what do you want to do? Do you want to get thrown in the slammer next to your husband?” She hissed as her heart thundered in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She placed a hand to her heart and felt the rapid beat pulsating through her winter coat.
“Fine.” Ellie shoved her way past her sister and headed down the cellar stairs in front of her, beaming the grossly inadequate penlight into the dark, damp old space. When they reached the bottom, Ellie turned to her sister and dropped her boots to the floor. “Now what? We’re going to hide out here until we know it’s safe to leave?”
“There’s got to be an exit out of the cellar. These old homes usually have one. I hope I’m right. I say we wait until we hear
footsteps inside the house, and then we make a run for it. If we try to escape now, we might get caught,” Sammy said, moving next to her sister to balance herself and shoved on her winter boots.
“Okay, I guess we don’t really have much of a choice. It’s either that or hide out and sleep down here, which, I have to be honest, isn’t on my short list,” Ellie said hesitantly. She bent at the waist to follow suit and slipped her feet into her winter boots.
Sammy flashed the narrow beam along the large boulders that made up the basement wall until the light landed on a shelf of what appeared to be vintage wine bottles.
“If I weren’t pregnant, I’d pop open one of those babies right here, right now, and take a swig!” Ellie whispered, pointing a finger at the wine.
“You? You’d steal someone else’s property?” Sammy’s eyes narrowed. This new revelation from her sister surprised her.
“Seriously? Are you kidding me?” Ellie flicked a finger toward her. “Coming from you, who has me locked inside a dead woman’s basement!” She let out a nervous giggle, her voice rising to an unusual octave for a whisper.
Sammy held back a smile. She moved the flashlight away from the wine bottles and traveled the beam of light along the rock wall until it reached a steel cellar trapdoor.
“Bingo!” she said wildly.
She beckoned her sister to follow, and they stood by the few concrete steps that led upward to their potential escape. She placed a gloved finger to her lips for them to remain quiet. Within minutes the muffled sound of footsteps overhead alerted them that someone had entered the house and was inside above their heads. Sammy’s finger left her lips and pointed upward. She then returned the gloved finger to her lips to signal Ellie to remain quiet.
Sammy waited for the muffled sound to dissipate and then whispered, “Now!”
The two made their way up three steps and before Sammy opened the bulkhead, she said, “make sure and drag your feet through the snow.” We don’t want the police to get a good image of the size boots running from the back. If we slide our prints into one continuous path, hopefully they won’t lead back to us.”
“Gosh, you’re devious. Where’d you come up with that idea?” Ellie asked, horrified. “Who are you, anyway?”
“Hey, I watch a lot of crime shows. Don’t judge me. And, anyhow, it may just save your Heineken! Now go!” Sammy gave her sister a nudge to urge her to prepare to exit.
Ellie’s eyes were wide with fear as Sammy reached and pushed the heavy steel door with a great shove. Heavy falling snow greeted them as soon as they saw open sapphire sky. The cold wind whipped, sending sideways flakes to sting their eyes and cheeks. Sammy blinked them back as she held tight to the door.
“Hurry!” Sammy encouraged her sister to go first and then turned to close the bulkhead door. As soon as the door was secure, she followed Ellie into the backyard and heaved her feet through the snow. She attempted to follow her sister’s jagged path to make it look as if there had been only one intruder leaving the premises. Doing so slowed the journey, and Sammy wondered if her idea had indeed been the right one when she heard a long-distance bellow in the form of Tim’s voice from over her shoulder. “Stop! Police!”
Ellie ducked behind a shed and plucked Sammy by the coat, nearly knocking her from her feet to join her before she had a chance to run past.
“We can’t outrun Tim! We might as well give it up right here and now,” Ellie said between pants of heavy breathing. She threw up her gloved hands in defeat. “Cuff me now,” she said dramatically as she held her hands out in front of her.
Sammy pushed her sister’s hands down in one swift movement. “Not so fast.” Her eyes darted across the backyard as they adjusted to the light of the wintry moonlit sky. “Over there.” She pointed. The neighboring yard had a hard, plastic, blue sled leaning against the back side of a shed. “Let’s make a run for it.”
“You want to do what?”
Sammy didn’t wait for her sister to agree. She grasped Ellie’s coat, gave an encouraging tug of the arm, and aborted their one-path mission. Instead, the two made their way through the snow on separate paths as fast as they could. As soon as they reached the sled, Sammy set it down on top of the snow, grabbed hold of the string, and dragged it behind them as they continued to run as best they could through the deepening snowdrifts. The two kept a fair pace until they reached a small hill. “Get on.” Sammy waved an encouraging hand for her sister to climb inside the sled.
“What hairbrained scheme have you gotten me into this time? Seriously? How old are we? We’re going to go sledding now? We may as well just give up.” Ellie sounded resigned. “Do you have any idea the last time I sat on a sled?” Ellie looked at Sammy as if she had horns coming out of her head.
Sammy had to say only one word to convince her. “Arrested?”
Ellie glared at her before setting herself down and scooting her body on her backside toward the front to make room for her sister.
Sammy bent at the waist, took hold of the side rails of the sled, and began to run as fast as she could in the deep snow. She gave a shove as if she were running a bobsled in the Olympics before jumping onto the back. The icy wind bit at her face, but she knew Ellie was taking the brunt of it as she ducked behind the safety of her sister’s body. The snow falling in swirly waves blinded them as they made their rapid escape, sliding down the snowcapped hill.
Chapter Sixteen
It didn’t take long before a hard rapping sound reverberated on the front door of Sammy’s Cape Cod in the wee hours of the morning. This caused three pairs of S.H.E. eyes to dart nervously among themselves and then out toward the banging coming from the front of the house. The three had recently removed their wet clothes and now stood within the heap of abandoned footwear in a panic.
“Someone had better get that,” Ellie said with a resounding sigh. Sammy noted the exhaustion in her sister’s voice and wondered how much longer she could remain upright and not collapse into the nearest bed. Ellie’s face was pale, her eyes shadowed gray, and she looked as if she’d been awake for days, not just one very long night. Her cousin, on the other hand, who was comfortable with swinging shifts and working all hours of the night and day, looked like she’d just woken up and was still fresh as a morning cup of coffee.
Heidi cringed as she crept closest to the door and then uttered, “Oh no,” after peeking through the peephole. Her shoulders sank, and she hung her head as she slowly opened the door to reveal her boyfriend standing on the other side. Officer Tim Maxwell stood at attention in official police capacity, dressed in his full uniform. His neck was bulging due to the clenching of his jaw, his eyes were blazing, and his navy-blue cap was covered in a blanket of white snow.
The officer removed his hat and jerked it downward, sending the snow flying to the ground with one swift angry movement. He stepped inside without saying a word. Sammy noticed his blond hair had been parted down the side, making him look more mature. When had he made that change? She wondered this as she studied his demeanor. He replaced the wet police cap on his head.
Immediately Tim’s eyes regarded the welcome mat next to his feet, which was currently filled with an overgrown pile of wet boots and winter coats dripping with condensation. He ordered the three of them to take a seat in the living room. He needed to “talk with them.” Sammy had never seen Tim conduct himself this way, and it scared her. She decided to refrain from any jokes, as the officer was clearly not in a joking mood.
As soon as the three were squeezed next to each other on Sammy’s meager love seat, the officer stood in front of them in a military stance with his chest puffed, as if he were a drill sergeant. He took a calculated breath and eyed each of them individually before speaking, to set a very serious tone.
“You three have taken this little S.H.E. game of yours too far. This time you crossed the line.” He lifted his index finger, pointed to the ceiling, and then flung it to the ground to draw an imaginary line between himself and the three women sitting i
n front of him.
Sammy was about to interrupt and ask what he was talking about to play coy, but after his eyes returned to their wet clothes and then traveled back to the three S.H.E.s, she knew he had potential evidence to bust them. She thought better of it and decided her best bet was to remain silent.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Ellie said, and made a run for the upstairs bathroom.
“Come back here,” Tim said with a tone of warning. “I’m not finished with you three yet.”
“I can’t,” Ellie said midstride. She covered her mouth with one hand and continued her journey upward.
When Ellie topped the stairs, the officer turned to them with thick brows furrowed and a shrug. “If she’s that worked up already, just wait until I haul the three of you back to the precinct.”
Sammy really hoped that was an empty threat. Her hands began to sweat.
“Did I upset her that bad? Or is she sick with the flu?” He turned his focus to rest directly on the two remaining women sitting in front of him.
“Pregnant,” Sammy and Heidi said in unison.
The look of surprise on the officer’s face did not go unnoted.
“Pregnant,” he repeated under his breath. “Then what the heck is she doing out galivanting around with you two at this hour of the night? Or should I say morning.” His eyes grew wider still as he digested the surprising revelation.
“Tim, please hear me out,” Heidi said tentatively. “Ellie is very worried about her husband, and …”
Clearly Heidi’s batting eyelashes and sensual voice weren’t going to help them get out of this one, as Tim shut her down, interrupting her plea. “Stop. Just stop.” His eyes lasered in on Heidi, causing her to recoil like an animal that had just been poked with a large stick.
The officer shifted his weight and placed one hand on his holster and the other on his thick police belt. “Ellie should be concerned for her husband,” he said firmly. “And this little fiasco.” He waved his hands in the air dramatically, as if he were a conductor for a professional orchestra about to direct the pinnacle of the song. “Well, you three aren’t helping Randy’s case one bit with these shenanigans.”
