Vicious Circle

by C. J. Box

  Missy blew out a puff of breath. “You’d actually leave this and go back to . . . that?”

  Marybeth gritted her teeth and said nothing.

  Missy said, “I’ve learned over the years that it’s possible to overlook serious flaws in a man if you’re safe and secure. What I don’t understand is choosing to settle. You’re beautiful, smart, and well-educated, but you choose to stay in that grubby existence with a man who can barely provide for you and my granddaughters.”

  “There’s a library here, you know,” Missy said with exasperation in her voice. “It’s actually modern and well-funded. And there are plenty of wealthy patrons who have second or third homes in the valley.”

  “There she is,” Marybeth said, eyes flashing. “The mask just slipped. This is the mother I know. You’ve been hiding behind that other person the whole time.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Missy said.

  “I get it now. I should have seen it earlier, but I actually thought that in your old age you’d become sentimental.”

  Missy flinched at the words old age, as Marybeth knew she would.

  “The idea was to get us all here in the lap of luxury so we’d get used to it and want it for ourselves,” Marybeth continued. “Then we’d collectively come to the conclusion that this is what we really wanted. You assume everybody thinks like you do. You can’t even imagine the possibility that someone could live a full, rich life with a husband she loved in what you consider a grubby existence.”

  Missy’s expression hardened, but she didn’t look over. She almost missed the turnoff to Teton Shadows and had to slam on the brakes to make it. The Thai food tumbled off the backseat to the floorboards, and several cartons opened and spilled out.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Missy said. “I hope some of it is salvageable.”

  Marybeth tried to ignore the comment, but being blamed for her mother’s own actions was a flashback to her youth. Missy was quick to assign blame for her mistakes not to herself but to whoever caused her to lose control.

  “You don’t like Joe because he knows you for what you are.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Missy said with an eye roll. “I don’t like Joe because you deserve better, and so do my granddaughters. Every mother wants the best for her child.”

  “You are the least motherly mother I’ve ever come across. You don’t get it. You should want me to be happy—which I am.”

  “I want you to not embarrass yourself or embarrass me,” Missy spat as she neared the gate and slowed down to a full stop.

  Marybeth was stunned and furious. “We’re leaving tonight.”

  “Don’t be foolish. It isn’t safe back there, which is why you’re here,” Missy said. “Hmmm, I don’t see Gary.”

  Marybeth couldn’t stand to be in the car with her mother another moment. “I’ll open the gate,” she said as she jumped out.

  As she entered the guard station, she saw two things at once: Gary Bulla on the floor in a pool of blood and, on a closed-circuit television monitor, a woman with an ax approaching Missy’s house. A child’s wagon had been pulled up into the front yard.

  Missy tapped on her horn to urge her to hurry up and open the gate.

  Instead, Marybeth swiped her cell phone to unlock it and punched 911.

  A female dispatcher picked up within seconds. Marybeth tried to remain cool.

  “My name is Marybeth Pickett and I’m at the entrance gate to Teton Shadows. The guard here has been attacked and injured and he’s on the floor and bleeding out. I can see on the video monitor that a woman is approaching my mother’s house with an ax. You need to send law enforcement out here as soon as possible. My daughters are in the house.”

  There was a long pause on the other end. “Please calm down, Mrs. Pickett. What can you see on the screen?”

  Marybeth felt a flash of rage. Please calm down.

  “Look, I’m as calm as I can be. Now send the cops before more people get hurt.”

  “I’ll see who’s available, but stay on the line,” the dispatcher said.

  Marybeth could see Missy in the H2. She was obviously steaming over the delay. Missy shoved the transmission into park, shut it off, and climbed out of the vehicle.

  “I’ve got to call my daughters and warn them,” Marybeth said to the dispatcher.

  “Ma’am, you need to stay on the line . . .”

  Missy crossed in front of her headlights and approached the door to the guardhouse. Marybeth covered the mike on her phone and raised her voice: “Mom, don’t come in here.”

  Missy waved the warning away and pushed through the door. She gasped when she saw Gary Bulla on the floor.

  Marybeth had to ignore her and concentrate on the situation. With a trembling hand, she found the hold prompt on the screen of her phone and speed-dialed Lucy’s cell. Lucy was better at answering her phone than April, who usually let it go to voicemail.

  Lucy picked up. “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

  Marybeth closed her eyes. “Lucy, right now there’s a woman coming to the front door with an ax. I think she’s the same one who attacked Joy and April. The same one Sheridan saw. Run and make sure the front door is bolted.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Never mind,” Marybeth snapped. “Bolt the door now.”

  On the screen, the woman paused on the front porch for a moment as she lifted something to her mouth. By her hunched-over posture, it looked like she was making a call on a cell phone. Marybeth didn’t know what the woman was doing or who she was calling, but she was grateful for it. After a few seconds, the woman returned the phone to her hoodie pocket and raised a closed fist and pounded on the heavy walnut door.

  Behind her, Missy asked, “Who is that crazy woman you’re looking at? Did she do this to Gary?” She gasped again and said, “Hey—that’s my house!”

  “Please, Mom,” Marybeth pleaded. “Not now.

  “Where are you?” she asked Lucy.

  “Doing what you told me to do,” Lucy said, slightly out of breath. Marybeth could hear the knocking on the door through the phone.

  Lucy said, “There. It’s bolted. Where are you?”

  Marybeth felt a tremendous weight lift off her shoulders.

  “I’m watching you on video from the guardhouse.”

  As she said it to Lucy, the woman on the porch reached out and tried to work the handle on the door that had just been locked. It didn’t open, and Marybeth was flooded with relief.

  “She’s trying to get in,” Lucy said. She was frightened now and her tone was shrill.

  “Where’s April?” Marybeth asked.

  “In her room, I guess.”

  On the monitor the woman on the porch leaned back and grasped the ax handle with both hands and swung it toward the door. Lucy screamed and Marybeth could hear the thunk through her speaker.

  “What is she doing?” Missy cried out behind Marybeth. “Does she have any idea how expensive that door is?”

  “Shut up!” Marybeth hissed at Missy.

  She recalled that the dispatcher was on hold. She said, “Lucy, stay on your phone. I’ve got to talk to the police and I’ll be back in a second.”

  “Mom—”

  Marybeth switched to the initial line halfway through a sentence.

  “—Mrs. Pickett? Are you still there?”

  “I’m back,” Marybeth said. “Is someone on the way?”

  “We’ve dispatched two units.”

  “How long will it take?”

  On the screen, the woman swung again, and the ax blade sent splinters flying.

  “They’ll get there as soon as possible, ma’am. Now please stay on the—”

  “How fucking long will it take?”

  “One unit is less than five minutes away,” the dispatcher said.

/>   “Tell him to hurry. The woman is hitting the front door with the ax now. There are two young women—my daughters—inside.”

  “What is the address, ma’am?”

  Marybeth turned to Missy, who was covering her mouth with her hand and watching the monitor.

  “What’s your physical address?”

  Missy was speechless. Marybeth didn’t know if it was because of Gary’s injuries, her granddaughters in immediate danger, the damage to an expensive walnut door, or all three.

  Marybeth said to the dispatcher, “Marcus and Missy Hand’s house on Snake River Drive. Two-oh-four, I think.”

  “Got it.” Marybeth heard the dispatcher repeat the address over the air. As she did, the woman on the porch hit the door again. She was aiming at the wood near the lock. Marybeth knew if the blade struck it just right . . .

  To Missy: “Where are your keys?”

  “My keys?”

  “The keys to your car! You shut it off, and I’m going to knock down the gate and stop that woman.”

  Missy frantically patted herself down but came up empty. “Maybe I left them in my purse . . .” she said, nodding toward her H2.

  “Forget it,” Marybeth said. To the dispatcher: “I can jump in the officer’s car when he gets here and guide him there.”

  “Ma’am, we have a policy about civilians riding in patrol vehicles—”

  Marybeth cut her off and switched to Lucy. “I’m back.”

  There was a loud crunch, and Lucy said, “She’s about to get in.” There was panic in her voice.

  “Go get April and run to Marcus’s office,” Marybeth said. She’d noticed that Hand’s door had a stout bolt lock on the inside, because he apparently wanted complete privacy from Missy from time to time. “Close the door and lock it. Keep your phone on.”

  “Okay,” Lucy said.

  Marybeth heard gurgling and looked down. Bulla was covering a terrible wound in his neck with his right hand and trying to pull himself up with his left. Until that moment, she’d thought he was already gone.

  “Help him,” she said to Missy.

  Missy looked back with horror in her eyes.

  “Get down there and help him. Try to stop the bleeding.”

  Then she heard an approaching siren.

  She looked up at the monitor. It was surreal. The woman was still hitting the front door, and now light from inside streamed out. But it wasn’t yet open. The attacker wasn’t hitting at the door with the fury she’d had when she started. Maybe, Marybeth hoped, she was getting tired.

  As the siren got louder, Marybeth shook her head from side to side. She could only hope that the officer could get to Missy’s house before the woman could summon up a second wind and break inside.

  Blue and yellow wigwag lights lit up the tree-lined entrance to Teton Shadows and the siren wailed.

  Marybeth found the button to raise the gate on a console and punched it. The mechanism hummed and the gate rose. She pushed her mother aside and ran out onto the road, waving her arms.

  The baby-faced Teton County deputy cut the siren and his window slid down. He leaned over into the passenger seat and looked up at her.

  “Let’s hurry,” she said to him, and climbed in beside him. He looked terrified.

  Lucy’s voice sounded tinny through the speaker on the phone in her hand.

  “Mom—I think she’s in the house.”

  18

  In the previous hour, Joe and Nate had caught up with each other so quickly, it seemed like they’d never really left off. When Nate described the body he’d found in the rocks that afternoon, Joe said, “Sounds a lot like Wanda Stacy.”

  “Wanda who?”

  “The bartender I told you about.”

  “Ah, right,” Nate said. He sipped at a glass of bourbon. Joe had already had enough for the night and he’d brewed a pot of coffee.

  “I’ll call Sheriff Reed and tell him,” Joe said. “Can you take his guys to the location?”

  Nate nodded darkly. He avoided working with law enforcement types as much as possible, with Joe being the lone exception.

  As Joe raised his phone, it lit up with a call and he looked at the screen.

  “Unknown caller,” Joe said.

  “It isn’t me this time,” Nate said.

  Joe hesitated for a moment, then punched it up. Too many hunters, fishermen, and landowners seemed to have his private cell number these days. He couldn’t risk not answering a random call if it turned out to be a tip or an emergency.

  “Joe Pickett.”

  “Hey, bad news,” a male voice said. The voice was distant and sounded muffled, as if the connection were poor or the caller had covered his microphone with a cloth.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m calling with some really bad news, man. There’s been a bloodbath in Jackson Hole. A fucking bloodbath at some resort place. You know Teton Shadows?”

  Joe went cold. He’d told no one where Marybeth and his daughters were. Perhaps Marcus Hand had mentioned it to someone, but—

  “Yeah, it’s ugly,” the caller said with what sounded like false empathy. “Really fucking ugly. I guess some crazy lady with an ax killed your wife and daughter Lucy. An ax! Imagine that. Chopped them right up! April got it, too, but I guess she’s still alive. They took her to the hospital, which is good. We’d like to finish that one up close and personal, if you catch my drift.”

  He was stunned. He knew what he’d heard, but he couldn’t process it. The living room seemed to rotate on its axis around him and he felt an otherworldly floating sensation.

  “Yeah, some meth-head tweaker, is what I heard. She broke down the door with an ax and started hacking away. The cops caught her, but not before she did a hell of a lot of damage.”

  “Who are you?” Joe asked. “Is this Dallas?”

  “Dallas who?” the man asked in a high-pitched voice that sounded a lot like Cates.

  “If what you’re telling me is true, you’re a dead man,” Joe said.

  That got Nate’s attention, and he jumped to his feet as if prepared to charge out the front door and pull someone apart with his bare hands.

  The caller chuckled and said, “You missed your chance.”

  The call was disconnected.

  Joe was frozen in place.

  “Who was that?” Nate asked.

  He couldn’t speak. For a moment, he didn’t realize the phone was buzzing in his hand again.

  When he looked down at the screen he saw it was from the Teton County Sheriff’s Department. It was the call he’d feared all of his life as a husband and father.

  “My God,” he whispered to Nate. “It might be true.”

  Nate looked back with narrowed eyes, trying to read the situation. Joe could barely move because he felt like all of his blood had drained out of him, leaving only a chilled husk.

  “Aren’t you going to answer that?” Nate asked.

  Joe couldn’t move.

  “Joe, answer it,” Nate said softly.

  He pressed ANSWER and raised the cell to his ear.

  “Joe, I’m calling you on this phone because mine ran out of battery . . .”

  It was Marybeth. Joe closed his eyes and sat back in the chair. He pressed the phone so hard to his face that it hurt.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he said. “I just got this call . . . He said you and the girls were attacked and killed.”

  “Well, half of that is right,” she said. “I’m okay. I’m okay and the girls are fine. They’re shaken up, but not hurt.” Then: “What about this call?”

  He explained what the caller had told him and ended it with “I think it was Dallas Cates.”

  Marybeth was silent for a moment. “I saw that woman call somebody. Now we know who it was.”

  Joe glanced up
to see Nate pacing the floor aggressively. “It’s Marybeth,” Joe said. “They’re all okay.”

  His friend’s face changed from concern mode back to revenge mode in a split second. Joe nodded his agreement, then turned back to Marybeth as she explained what had happened.

  The tweaker was trying to crawl through the hole she’d chopped in the door as Marybeth and the Teton County deputy got to the house. The woman was half in and half out with the ax apparently on the inside threshold when the deputy turned his spotlight on her.

  The deputy told the tweaker to freeze in place, but the woman continued to struggle to get into the house. She pulled so hard that her hoodie tore loose on the splintered wood and she tumbled inside wearing only a dirty bra, but she caught her right foot in the hole.

  The deputy acted fast and ran to where she was. He held the tweaker by the foot so she couldn’t proceed any farther inside while they waited for backup. Marybeth ran around the house and entered it through the unlocked back door. She found April and Lucy in Marcus Hand’s office and ushered them outside. When they got to the front, a second sheriff’s department unit had arrived and more were on the way.

  Marybeth led the second deputy around back and through the house to the living room. The woman was on her belly on the tile floor, trying to pull her foot out of the grasp of the first deputy. She grunted like an animal and cursed the “fucking cops” and tried to reach for the ax handle that was just beyond her grasp.

  “She was out of her mind on meth or something,” Marybeth said. “She was literally foaming at the mouth when they cuffed her and took her away.”

  “Who is she?” Joe asked.

  “I don’t know. They said she has no ID, and she’s not talking yet. All they found on her—besides the ax—was a burner cell phone and a wad of cash. Something like five grand.”

  “Is she the one who attacked Joy and April?” Joe asked.

  “April says yes. It’s her.”

  Joe finally allowed himself to breathe. He waved away the offer of a bourbon and water from Nate.

  “You did everything right,” he told Marybeth. “You’re like a mother bear protecting her cubs.”