Lillian Duncan - Until Death Do Us Part

by Lillian Duncan

  He nodded.

  “I’m not sure why she puts up with this one. Even so, I’m guessing you’re one of the good guys. Or Theresa wouldn’t love you so much.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I am.” Billy Clyde picked up a cookie.

  Dylan watched as Mrs. Miller stared hard at Billy Clyde’s. This was certainly a case of looks being deceiving. Dylan had thought she was a kindly grandmother type, but there was more to this woman-she was one tough cookie.

  Speaking of cookies, he grabbed another.

  She harrumphed and looked back at Billy Clyde. “Where’s Theresa?” Billy Clyde opened his mouth but before he could utter a word, she continued. “And don’t bother making up some ridiculous story. I know Theresa well enough to know she wouldn’t let you go running around with a bullet wound in your arm. And you are obviously looking for someone and by the panicked look on your face, I’d say it was your wife. What happened to her? What’s going on?”

  Smart woman.

  Rather than answer, Billy Clyde stood and paced around the kitchen. Finally, he turned back to her. “Look, I don’t want to lie to you, but I don’t want to put you in any danger either. What I need you to do is pack a bag and go visit one your children or grandchildren. Can you do that for me?”

  The two were locked in a battle of the wills as they stared at each other. Dylan was glad he wasn’t part of it.

  She sighed. “Fine, but only because I’m an old woman these days. A few years ago, I’d have insisted on helping.” She smiled. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do?”

  Billy Clyde walked over and hugged her. “Stay safe.”

  They waited as she packed a bag.

  “Quite the woman.” Dylan said after taking another sip of tea.

  “That’s for sure, Monroe.” Billy Clyde picked up a cookie and inhaled it in one bite. “I don’t think she has anything to do with this.”

  “How do you explain the phone call coming from here?”

  Mrs. Miller walked back into the kitchen, carrying a flowered satchel. “I’ve been thinking about that and I have a theory. I saw a repairman out on the telephone pole yesterday. Didn’t think anything of it at the time but now I’m wondering of that had something to do with it.”

  Billy Clyde nodded. “Probably.”

  “He scooted up. I remember thinking that was strange. They usually use a cherry picker on their truck, but he was climbing the pole.”

  “Speaking of trucks, did you see one?” Dylan asked.

  She thought for a moment. “Can’t say that I did, but it could have been parked around the corner.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Miller and please don’t—”

  “Not to worry, I won’t say a thing to anybody. Do you think it’s safe for me to go to my daughter’s? If not, I’ll go to a hotel. I won’t put them in danger.”

  “We’ll make sure that it is. We’ll follow along until we’re sure no one is following you.”

  They walked outside to her garage. It wouldn’t be long before it was completely dark and they’d accomplished nothing that day. But he wouldn’t have missed seeing the gray-haired lady walking back into her kitchen with a shotgun for anything.

  They walked her to her detached garage, Billy Clyde on one side and Dylan on the other. His mind flashed back to the bomb he’d found under his own truck last year. Dylan went down on all fours and checked out the undercarriage, looking for a GPS tracker or anything else that didn’t belong.

  He stood back up and dusted off his clothes. “All clear.”

  Billy Clyde opened her door for her. “Don’t drive directly to wherever you’re going. We’ll follow behind to make sure no one’s following you. I’ll flick my lights at you when I think it’s safe for you to go on your way.”

  She reached up and hugged Billy Clyde. “You be safe. And I’ll be praying for Theresa and you boys. And keep that wound clean.”

  Dylan smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Miller.”

  He shut her car door and they walked out to their own vehicle. Dylan took the driving position once again. Mrs. Miller backed out of the garage.

  The kidnapper’s phone inside Billy Clyde’s pants pocket rang. He flipped open the phone, hitting the speaker button. “What?”

  “Don’t worry about the old lady. She’s got nothing to do with any of this. You’re not playing by the rules, Mr. Addams.”

  “I didn’t know they were any rules.”

  “You were told to stay in your house and wait. Not go running around trying to find me. And by the way who’s your sidekick?”

  Dylan put the car in drive and pulled out behind Mrs. Miller.

  “A friend.”

  “Whatever. I’m not happy about you breaking the rules, but I expected it. You get one pass. Now, you’re going to go home and stay there. Or I will kill your wife right now. I’ll even let you listen as I kill her.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Dylan and Billy Clyde sat at the table staring at each other and the pictures Billy Clyde printed out from his digital camera at the Miller house. They were strewn about the dining room table.

  Neither one spoke, both lost in thought as they stared at photo after photo for a clue. Billy Clyde looked at him. “I can’t believe this.”

  “They obviously saw us going into Mrs. Miller’s, but the pictures don’t show anyone lurking around the neighborhood.”

  Billy Clyde tossed the pictures on the table and stood. Exasperation, frustration, and exhaustion showed on his face. “Who knows? They could have been anywhere watching us. Maybe, we should go back and check out the neighbors.”

  “That will have to wait until morning.” He had to make Billy Clyde see reason. “You need to get some sleep. You’ve been shot and you’re exhau—”

  The big man swirled around, his eyes glaring. “I will not go to sleep while Theresa’s missing. I’ve got to find her.”

  Dylan kept his voice calm. “And we will find her, but it’s not going to happen tonight. They’re several steps ahead of us. We’re going to catch up and find them, but tonight that genius brain of yours needs to rest so it will be working at top speed. And besides we can’t keep barging into houses. Sooner or later one of them will call the police and we’ll be sitting in jail.”

  Billy Clyde plopped back into the chair.

  “Maybe you should call your boss or someone?”

  “When the feds get brought in, they have rules to follow. I have no plan to follow any of their rules.” Billy Clyde shook his head. He pulled the laptop sitting in the middle of the table toward him. “What we need to do is figure this thing out before they call back to verify I’ve deleted the file.”

  “So, you’re going to do it?”

  “Have to. They aren’t going to take my word that I’ve deleted the file. Which means they are either going to have me help them break into the Secret Service computer system or they can do it already.”

  “Do you actually have to delete the file? Can’t you hide it somehow until this is over and then get it back for them?”

  Billy Clyde shook his head. “I can’t take that chance. We aren’t really sure what this is all about or who’s involved. If I try to play games, it could backfire. I won’t risk with Theresa’s life.”

  Dylan nodded.

  Billy Clyde opened the laptop.

  “Ok, partner let’s talk this out. Who do you think could be doing this?”

  With a grim look, Billy Clyde nodded. “First of all, it has to be someone who knows what I do for a living.”

  “That probably eliminates your friends or neighbors around here. None of them know what you do, right?”

  “Right. As far as they’re concerned, I’m a computer geek who works from home except for the occasional trip to the main headquarters.”

  “Who knows you have access to some pretty powerful databases?”

  “My immediate supervisors but they have access to the same information I have so it wouldn’t be them. They assured me my real name isn’t known except by a few
of the top brass. When I come up in discussions, they use the code name, Mr. Morton.”

  “Mr. Morton?”

  “Yeah, like the salt. I just sort of disappear when it starts raining.”

  Dylan shot an eyebrow up. “Was that your idea? I mean really I think you could have come up with a better name than that.”

  His fingers paused on the keyboard and he looked up at Dylan. “Monroe, don’t start on me. I’ve had a trying day.”

  “Yes, you have, and my suggestion is we both get some sleep so we can function tomorrow.”

  “Not quite yet.” Billy Clyde sighed. His fingers clicked on the keyboard. “I’m in the database. Theresa told me not to do it. She’s willing to die rather than betray her country or her principles.”

  Dylan already knew the answer but he asked the question anyway. “So, are you going to do what she wants?”

  “She’s only in danger because she’s my wife. I’m not going to let something happen to her if I can prevent it.”

  “Then do it. Delete the file so you can get some rest.”

  “First, I’m printing a copy of the file. We can investigate the subject of the file but chances are …”

  “They’ll fade into the background and start using another name.”

  “Exactly.” Billy Clyde read the file. “It’s a short file. It looks as if they’re just starting to investigate. Not much here.”

  Dylan watched as Billy Clyde hit some buttons. He closed his eyes for a moment and then hit the enter button. He looked up. “It’s done.”

  “It’s not done— just deleted. We’ll figure this out after we get Theresa home. Now, it’s time to sleep. Let your body heal and your mind rest.”

  “Not to mention my soul. It’s hurting, Monroe.”

  “I know it is, but God’s mercies are new every morning. You’ll feel better after you get some sleep.”

  “You really think I’m going to sleep when my wife’s been kidnapped?”

  “What’s the first rule of war, Lieutenant?”

  “Always take care of yourself.”

  “Because…”

  Billy Clyde sighed. “Because you can’t help anyone else, if you’re hurt or sick or tired.”

  Dylan stared hard at his friend. “Sounds like good advice to me.”

  “Even if I agreed with you, there’s no way I could sleep.”

  Dylan nodded and stood. He walked out of the room but was back in a few minutes. He handed Billy Clyde the bottle of painkillers. “This should help. We’ll get a fresh start in the morning.”

  Billy Clyde opened the bottle and tossed two in his mouth. He swallowed them without water. “You should call your wife, Monroe. No sense in her being worried and upset.”

  Dylan shook his head. “The farther away she is from me, the safer.”

  CHAPTER 20

  The screaming and pounding stopped, an uneasy silence filled the motel room. Reggie glanced over at Misty and the kids. Terror filled their faces. Pushing aside the faded flowered curtain, she peeked out.

  The manager stood on the sidewalk pointing toward the restaurant where they’d eaten earlier. She caught a quick glimpse of the man she assumed was Misty’s husband as he marched toward the restaurant, his blonde pony tail bobbed behind him. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, he looked to be of average height. But even from where she stood, Reggie could see he the muscles.

  His punches had to hurt.

  She hurried over to Misty who was still in the bathroom. “He’s going over to the restaurant. The manager must have told him you might be there. Let’s get your stuff out of the room before he comes back.”

  Misty jumped up and opened the connecting door on their side. Moments later, they rushed in the room, gathering their belongings. When they finished, they shut the adjoining doors and scurried back into Reggie’s room.

  Reggie slammed the door and locked it.

  Then, she stared at it. “This isn’t right. We need your door locked from inside the room or he might figure out you’re on this side.” She held out her hand. “I need your key card.”

  “This isn’t your fight.” Misty pulled out the keycard from her pocket and turned toward the outside door. “I’ll do it myself.”

  Reaching for the key card, she snatched it out of Misty’s hand. “Oh no, you will not. You stay, I’ll go.”

  As Reggie walked outside, her eyes gravitated to the restaurant. No one in sight. She breathed a sigh of relief as she hurried to Misty’s door. Her own hand shook as she stuck the keycard in the slot.

  She ran to the door and slid the bolt lock shut. With heart fluttering, she ran back outside and sucked in fresh air. She glanced over at the restaurant.

  Frank walked out.

  Moving fast, she made it back to her own room and slammed the door shut. Her heart pounded as she bolted and latched everything she could. Motel doors weren’t known for the best security.

  Nearby knocking made both of them jump.

  “Honey, let me in. I’m sorry I lost my temper.” No screaming this time. His voice oozed sweetness and honey. “We can work this out, Misty. Just open the door, sweetheart.”

  Misty stood transfixed, staring at the door. Her eyes reminded Reggie of a deer stuck in headlights. She knew enough about battered women to know Misty might succumb to the man’s sudden sweetness, fake though it was.

  Reggie herded her toward the bathroom. “Go.”

  Misty nodded as tears eked out her eyes.

  “Come on, now let me in. You’re my wife and those are my kids. You got no right.” The voice wasn’t quite as sweet.

  Misty’s feet slowed. “Maybe, I should let him in. He said he was sorry.”

  “Think about your kids.” Reggie whispered. “You don’t want them to live like this. Would you want Suzie to be in this kind of a relationship?”

  Misty’s lips trembled, but she turned her back on the door and walked into bathroom, both kids followed behind.

  Nice guy was gone and the screaming had started again as a torrent of cursing rolled through the room. It wouldn’t be long before the police would be called.

  How was she going to keep Misty and her kids safe? If Dylan were here, he’d know what to do.

  Misty huddled with her two children on the floor in the bathroom with a protective arm around each of them. Similar scenes from her own childhood foster homes flashed through her mind. Children shouldn’t have to experience this kind of terror, and certainly not from a parent. “Maybe, I should go out and see what’s happening.”

  Misty wiped tears away. “I wouldn’t do that. He’s a smart guy. He might figure out why you’re so interested.”

  How smart could the man be if he spent his time terrorizing his wife and children? “I’ll pretend I’m getting something out of my car.”

  Misty nodded and scrunched further down on the floor. Reggie grabbed her car keys and walked out the door. Several people stood outside their own doors watching the drama.

  Better than reality TV.

  Misty’s husband turned from the door and approached the manager. “You’re gonna let me in that room or there’s gonna be big trouble.”

  Even from where she stood, she saw the blood drain from the young manager’s face. Thin and on the short side, his brown hair was neatly cut and he had on a button-down shirt and khaki’s. No tattoos, just your average-all-American boy. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, but he managed to choke out. “I can’t do that, sir.”

  Frank pointed an intimidating finger at him. “You can and you will if you know what’s good for you.”He abruptly turned away from the manager and marched toward Reggie.

  Her pulse raced until he stopped at the faded red Bug. He pulled a key out of his pocket and poked the car. “This is my car. And the registration will prove it. That’s my wife and kids in there. We had a fight. What if she did something stupid to herself and the kids? I need to make sure they’re okay.”

  The young man looked at the gathering crowd as if praying f
or someone else to step up and help him. Frank opened the passenger door with the key and a second later emerged from the car holding a paper up. “This registration proves this is my car. Now let me in that room.”

  The young man pulled a phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling 911.” And with those words, he hit the button.

  Frank moved toward the manager with his arm swung back. Reggie rushed up between them. “Look, mister. He can’t let you in the room, but the police can come and check on them. That’s why he’s calling 911. If there’s a problem, the police can handle it.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m a lawyer. And I know that legally he can’t let you in, but he can call the police and have them do it.” She held her breath, hoping the man wouldn’t slug her or the manager. “He’s doing what you want him to do. No need for violence.”

  Frank glared at her but took a deep breath and nodded.

  She did the same. Her pulse slowed to the speed of a freight train instead of a jet.

  “Look, I’ve got a man here who thinks his wife might have hurt herself and the kids. I can’t let him in the room, but someone needs to come and check on them.” He hung up. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  “Fine.” Frank turned and glared at the onlookers who started going back in their rooms.

  Reggie wavered. Maybe she should stay out here. If she did, she had some control over the situation. And maybe she could get one of the policemen alone and explain the situation. Or…if she could get the husband to wait in the office, maybe she could sneak Misty and the kids out.

  On the other hand, she didn’t want to make Frank suspicious.

  Her eyes searched out the manager’s. When he noticed her, she nodded her head toward the office and hoped he’d understand. “Maybe, he’d like to wait in the office until the police come. It could take a while, you know how the cops are.”

  Confusion showed on the young man’s face.

  He hadn’t picked up on her clue. She walked closer to him, her voice low as she spoke. “No reason to keep a show going, you know. Have him go sit in the office to wait for the police, and maybe the crowd will disperse.”