False Impressions

by Terri Thayer

  April’s mind flooded with anger. She coughed and sputtered as bile rose in her throat. It burned on its way up. How dare these people? Not just destroy their own lives but innocents like Kit and her twins. What kind of a person did that?

  April thought about the fire back at the barn. Kit’s house would be better off if it burned right now. Mary Lou had probably insured the place. Fire insurance would cover the cost of rebuilding. Nothing was going to help with meth cleanup.

  April shuddered with revulsion as she realized how tainted the house was.

  Kit’s car was in the driveway. She was in there, trying to fix up a house for her family.

  Another car, an old station wagon, was parked on the shoulder just past Kit’s. She didn’t recognize the car. It looked as if it had slewed across the roadway and stopped there. The driver had been in a big hurry.

  April grabbed Mitch’s keys out of the ignition.

  If the killer had caught up with J.B. when he left Kit’s house, or if he knew that J.B. had had contact with her, then Kit was in danger. Whoever killed J.B. did it to keep him quiet. Keep him from talking about what he knew.

  She had to have help. She considered dialing 9-1-1, but what would she say? She didn’t think the state police would be too interested in her story. A strange car was not enough to raise up the possibility of a real emergency. She’d tried calling on the Aldenville police before and Yost had embarrassed her in front of his support group. But she had a real problem this time. Chances were he was still at the barn and the chief would answer.

  She dialed the Aldenville Police Station. No luck. It was Yost who answered the phone. There was no time to be picky. She needed backup.

  “Officer Yost? I’m at Kit’s house. She’s in danger.”

  She could hear him eating something. A noise like a slurp came over the wire and then a swallowing sound. Protect and serve indeed. Coffee-break time.

  “Why do you think that?” The “little lady” was implied.

  April lied. “I heard someone threaten her. The same person that shot her uncle. Just please meet me over there.” She stopped just short of pleading.

  April swallowed her pride. It felt like a giant hairball going down her gullet sideways, scratching her all the way. “Please hurry.”

  She hung up and tossed her phone on the seat. She hurried up the walk. The porch steps were icy, and April went down, cracking her knee against the concrete. She felt the impact all the way to her teeth. Using the wrought-iron railing as a crutch, she forced herself up and listened. Kit was in there with a stranger. Her breath formed icy clouds around her, and her toes started to ache.

  She paced the porch. It shouldn’t take Yost more than a few minutes to get here. She’d wait. Waiting was not her strong suit.

  A strangled noise came from inside. April stilled herself, straining to hear. Another sound like a yelp. She had to do something. April banged on the door, leaning on it for good measure.

  The door swung open. April hesitated. This door had been locked every time she’d been out here. She forced herself to take a step inside.

  “Kit?” she called.

  “You’re lying,” she heard. “A big fat liar.”

  April moved into the kitchen. Kit turned to her as she heard her enter. April’s heart was in her throat, but she was glad to see Kit was alive. Kit’s face was streaked and her eyes were red.

  “Tell him, April. Tell him my house is not a meth house.”

  Dr. Wysocki was standing in front of Kit. He was holding a gun.

  “Dr. Wysocki?” April asked. She got a slight nod from the man. “What’s going on?”

  “I came here to find my daughter. I’m taking her to rehab.” His hand shook. The gun seemed too heavy for him. His complexion was gray, and he looked older than his years. He should be enjoying his retirement. Instead, he was chasing down a daughter who could not shake her deadly addiction.

  “What’s with the gun?” She wasn’t worried that he’d shoot Kit on purpose, but he was not in control of himself right now. He didn’t answer, looking at Kit with intensity.

  Kit said, “He thought he was going to have to run the meth makers off. From my house,” she wailed.

  April stepped in front of Dr. Wysocki. She kept Kit in her peripheral vision. The gun was pointed at the floor. So far.

  “I’m afraid that part is true,” April said to Kit. “That’s why your uncle came when he did. He wanted to see the place for himself. He was going to warn you or your mother. I couldn’t figure out why he’d come back. It was too dangerous. He knew who was behind the meth making. He knew if he ever stepped foot in this town that he’d be killed. But he came anyway.”

  Kit was crying hard now. “I got him killed,” she said.

  “No you didn’t. It’s not your fault. Or his. It’s the people behind the drug making. That’s who’s to blame.”

  Dr. Wysocki let out a groan. The gun came up to his eye level. His breathing was shallow. She wondered if she should call his wife or an ambulance.

  April moved a step closer. “Could you have done that? Run off your own daughter with a gun?”

  He looked up at her with bloodshot eyes. “I will do anything to keep her away from that awful drug. She’s practically dead now.”

  April’s throat closed up as she was reminded of all this man had lost. A beautiful daughter, a serene retirement, an old age free of anxiety.

  He started to cry, his thin shoulders shaking with the effort of holding it all in. Kit went to him and put her arm around him. She looked at April with huge eyes, her own problems obviously roiling around her mind.

  “Dr. Wysocki,” April said, gently starting to disengage his fingers from the gun. “Do you know where Violet is?”

  He shook his head. His fingers retightened around the gun handle. They heard a car crunch on the snow in the drive. Kit’s head popped up quickly. April had to pull back her chin to avoid getting clocked.

  “Oh, that’s Yost,” she said.

  “Did my mother send him?” Kit sounded confused.

  “No, I called him to help me when I thought you were in danger. I’ll just tell him we’re okay. No need for him to come in,” April said, moving to the front door. She caught sight of Yost getting out of his personal car, parked across the road.

  That car. In that spot. That was the car she’d seen when she’d left the night J.B. had visited Kit. The night J.B. died. Yost had been here.

  Yost got out of his car. He was dressed all in black. He looked up and down the deserted road and pulled his ski mask down. April’s heart plummeted. This was not the face of the friendly neighborhood cop trying to stay warm.

  She ducked below the window in the door and reached up and threw the deadbolt.

  Of course. Yost was the mastermind. He had access to Mary Lou’s foreclosures. He had access to the vulnerable addicts like Violet and Paula. He’d stopped J.B. for a DWI, Paula for kiting checks. Violet’s parents had given her to him to cure. His Anvil group was just a front for using people.

  April looked for something to block the entrance. She pulled over a wooden sawhorse, recognizing the futility as soon as she did. But by balancing it on two back legs, she was able to jam the lock. It wouldn’t hold for long, but she’d gained a little time. To think. To get help.

  “Kit, take Dr. Wysocki and go down in the basement. I’ll get rid of Yost.”

  “Why?” Kit pulled up Dr. Wysocki, who was staring at April as though she’d lost her mind. April wheeled her arms, hustling them to the stairs in the middle of the hall.

  “That’s who killed your uncle. He’s the guy behind the meth making.”

  CHAPTER 20

  She pulled open the basement door and shoved Kit and the doctor down, protesting. “Stay there until I tell you it’s all clear. I’m going to get rid of him.”

  Yost hadn’t come to the door. April looked outside and could make out a figure circumnavigating the backyard. Being a good cop and looking for trouble? Or making
sure she was alone with Kit.

  Kit’s phone was on the counter. She grabbed it and called the police station again. She looked out the slider in the kitchen to the back of the house. She lurched when she saw Yost answer his cell. He’d had the phone forwarded to him. She bent over so he wouldn’t spot her.

  She had to pretend all was well and forced herself to sound cheery. “False alarm, Officer Yost. I got here and there’s no one here.”

  “Really? Because I see lights on.”

  “Just me. I found the spare key under the mat. Logan and Kit must have gone to get something to eat or something. They’ll probably be right back.”

  “Well, I can check around. Make sure there’s no one lingering.”

  April clicked off her phone. She yelled downstairs to Kit. “Can you turn off the light?”

  “It’s dark.”

  “I know. I don’t want him to know you’re here. He doesn’t know how much you know. He might think J.B. told you things about him.”

  She was speaking in a harsh whisper, trying to paint a dire picture for Kit without worrying her sick. She didn’t need Kit to totally freak out on her. If Kit thought there was a chance she wasn’t going to see her babies again, she might try something stupid.

  April had to keep her contained and get rid of Yost. At least until the police arrived.

  She called the state police barracks. “I’m at 461 Dowling Road. I see an intruder with a gun outside of my place. Please send someone.”

  That would take a few minutes. The key was to keep Yost outside.

  She stood in the kitchen window, trying to catch sight of him.

  She smelled gas. Oh God. He was going to blow them up. Just like he had Charlotte and Grizz.

  She pulled open the window. It stuck on the icy track. “Yost!” she hollered. “Stop. I’ve called the state troopers and told them that you killed J.B. I told them how you blew up my father’s barn, killing those poor old people inside.”

  Yost’s voice was high and tight. “It’s too bad Logan is such a crappy caretaker. He doesn’t know the first thing about gas lines. He should have had PP&L come out and inspect this connection to the house. It seems to be loose. Anyone could just light a match and whoosh.”

  April glanced at the door to the basement. Kit was counting on her to keep her safe. Kit, the mother of two babies. April couldn’t leave her trapped in the basement if Yost was going to blow the house up. But if Kit ran, where would she go that Yost couldn’t find her? Yost would never know how much J.B. had told her. He’d have to kill her, too. She would never be safe.

  April had to stop him. She yanked open the front door. “Officer Yost, can we talk about this calmly?”

  Yost appeared out of the bushes. Her heart stopped, and she had to hold herself up in the door frame. He looked like a commando out of a comic book. He was always in costume, she realized. As a policeman. As a civilian. Now as a killer. Were these the same clothes he’d worn when he’d blown up the barn?

  She closed her eyes to regain her equilibrium, and when she opened them again, he was right in front of her, lit by the porch light. Every woman’s nightmare.

  “Did you cook meth in this house?” she asked him.

  “I don’t cook meth.”

  She waved off his smug response, barely resisting the urge to smack his face. She would have to make nice with him at least until she could figure out how to get them all out of this bind.

  “No, you just had your girls do it. How many of Mary Lou’s foreclosures did you use?”

  “Oh, you know that, do you?” He came across the threshold and shut the door behind him, not wanting any of the gas to escape. April could see his shoulder holster through his open jacket. She wondered if that was his only weapon. A creep like him probably had a gun on his ankle, too.

  He was taller than she was by a good eight inches, and grabbing the gun before he responded was out of the question. She tried to calculate how long it would be before the troopers could get there. Mitch was at the barn without his car. Logan might be on his way but given his fascination at the barn, it was hard to know when.

  “Yes, I figured that out. You were so helpful to Mary Lou, weren’t you? You had every excuse to pop round. And with so many houses in foreclosure, you had your pick, didn’t you?”

  Yost shrugged, his holster riding up and down. He thought that she was admiring his guile. He was wearing a black turtleneck and an open leather jacket. Spy School 101. She wondered if she offered him a martini, shaken, not stirred, if he’d go for it. Yost. Henry Yost.

  A noise from the basement reminded her that Dr. Wysocki and Kit were down there, in the dark. She cleared her throat to cover it. Yost didn’t flinch. He believed she was alone. Good. She could lead him away. Get him out of here.

  “And Violet? Did you kill her?”

  “Violet is fine. Don’t you worry about her.”

  “Isn’t that what you do? Blow up people that you’re finished with? Isn’t that kind of your MO? J.B. was the exception. He came to town and you had to finish him off, make it look like an accident. He was the only one who could put you with the meth houses.” She paused to let her accusations sink in before continuing her attack. “Why did you go after Charlotte and Grizz?”

  He scowled. “That’s on you. You told everyone you were going to be alone last night.”

  The whole town knew Charlotte and Grizz were away. After the ring reveal, everyone knew that she and Mitch were fighting. No one expected them to reconcile so quickly.

  She was supposed to be home alone. Charlotte and Grizz paid the price.

  “Before you came along, I could go about my business without anyone questioning. No one cared. I didn’t sell the meth here in Aldenville. In fact, I kept drugs out of here. I wasn’t lying that night at Mary Lou’s. There are no drugs around here. And that’s because of me. I keep this town clean. I was doing the town a favor.”

  The man had a seriously weird sense of chivalry.

  April backed into the kitchen. She wanted him away from the basement door. He didn’t need to know more people were in the house.

  She sighed heavily. She could taste gas. It got into her nose and tickled it. She tried to calculate how long before the air got to dangerous levels. If Yost had done the same thing last night, maybe Charlotte and Grizz had been unconscious before the explosion. Small mercy.

  Yost leaned in the doorjamb, his own gun still snapped in his holster. Gas was still leaking into the house.

  She couldn’t remember what happened to Dr. Wysocki’s gun. Had it been in his hand when he went downstairs? Or had he laid it down? April scanned the kitchen quickly so Yost wouldn’t follow her gaze. She kept him talking.

  “Why? Why did you do it?”

  “You were there. You heard. The borough council is eliminating my job.”

  “Pete Rosen was on your side. He might have changed a few minds. He only needed one or two.”

  Kit’s hostess setup from the other night was still there—three folding chairs around a milk crate. J.B. had sat right there, eating kielbasa. She could see something metallic on one of the chairs.

  April reached behind her, trying to feel for the gun. She didn’t stand a chance in a quick draw, but maybe she could hold him off long enough for help to arrive. But her fingers touched only the plastic openings of the milk crate.

  “The borough has been talking about getting rid of the police for years. It’s inevitable. With budget cuts, it doesn’t make sense to have a separate police force. I had to take care of my future.”

  April wondered how many other laid-off workers figured dealing meth was the way to go. Yost wiped his face with the mask he’d been wearing. He was sweating under his tight turtleneck.

  “J.B. ruined things. He was calling it quits. He’d fallen for some chick. Wanted out.”

  His eyes lost focus. “Killing Ransom was an accident. I told the jerk not to be there that day, but he was probably tweaking and didn’t know where he was. I hat
e users.”

  So he’d meant to kill J.B. but not the other meth maker. Nice to know he had standards.

  He smiled, a look so reptilian she expected a tiny forked tongue to flick out. “I changed up my tactics. That’s why I’ve only been using nonusers now.”

  April’s eyebrows raised. “So Violet hasn’t gone back to using?” That would be some comfort to her father.

  “She’s clean. I drug-test them. Paula kept her straight.”

  He cocked his head toward the middle of the house. The place was deadly quiet. They both heard the noise.

  “Listen,” April said, trying to make some noise.

  Yost held up a hand to silence her. She protested, and he grabbed her by the upper arm.

  “Quiet,” he said and pushed her away.

  She and Yost heard the footsteps on the basement stairs at the same time. He turned quickly. April jumped up from her seat, hand scrabbling for the gun. It wasn’t there.

  Yost yelled. “Who’s there?”

  April heard a car in the driveway and saw the red flashing light of the trooper car. She ran to the side door to unlock it.

  When she turned back, Dr. Wysocki was standing with a gun pointed at Yost. Yost’s hand hovered over his holster, but he’d hesitated. Even he couldn’t shoot an old man in cold blood.

  Dr. Wysocki didn’t seem to have the same problem. His hand was trembling, but the gun was small and not heavy. He was close enough to do damage to Yost even if his aim wasn’t true. But if he fired, the gas that Yost had turned on would surely explode, killing them all. April knew what was on his mind.

  “Dr. Wysocki!” April yelled. “Hold on. Violet is clean. She hasn’t used again.”

  Dr. Wysocki didn’t react. His eyes were on Yost. He wasn’t hearing her. She could smell gas more strongly now.

  Kit’s head appeared behind the doctor’s. “Run outside,” April said. “Kit, now.”

  The girl went out the front door. Yost watched her go, his eyes flicking from April to Dr. Wysocki and back.