Heart of a Runaway Girl

by Trevor Wiltzen

  The dog launched, Mabel screamed and scrambled back into the truck. The knife fell outside as she shut and locked the door. The dog thudded into the side and then barked fiercely as she frantically tried to shush it.

  The shack door burst open.

  Petar stepped out.

  A massive brute of a man, with a thick beard, thinning hair on top, and deep-set angry eyes, he growled at the fearsome dog to shut it up, and it did, instantly.

  He yelled at Mabel. “Who the hell are you?”

  Karen’s brutalized body flashed through her mind. “Don’t hurt me!” she cried. “People are coming! I know the Sheriff!”

  “What do ya mean?! You’re trespassing!” He stamped down the stairs then reached out to yank the truck door open, but she had locked it. He tried several more times, getting angrier each time. “Open this door!”

  She refused, terrified.

  “Open it!”

  Mabel glanced at the knife near the man’s boots. Now the man had his weapon outside. The same knife he had used to kill Karen. Now all he had to do was get the keys and pull her out to murder her.

  He banged his fist against the glass in frustration. “Open this door!”

  After he kept banging and trying the lock over and over, Mabel clued in: maybe he doesn’t have the keys! Maybe they were locked in here! Frantically, she searched under the seat, in the glove box, flipped the driver’s side visor — a set of keys fell into her lap — and she nearly laughed.

  Petar saw it too and banged his fist against the glass. “Don’t you dare!”

  She slipped the truck key into the ignition. The engine roared to life.

  “I’m getting my gun!” he screamed as he ran back to the house.

  Mabel put the truck in reverse and spun it around. She took the corner fast, ignoring the branches clawing the finish. She reached the end of the driveway, hit the brakes, and jumped out, racing to her vehicle with the dog advancing fast. Mabel fumbled with her door handle before getting in, just in time. The dog threw himself at the glass, clawing, barking and salivating. Mabel tried the ignition key. It didn’t fit. She grew frantic before realizing these were the truck keys, so she cracked the window a sliver and pushed the keys out, screaming as the dog tried to bite her fingertips.

  Starting up her car, she backed up fast. She hit the gas, nearly swiping a tree before over-correcting and almost slamming into another. Then as her car bucked and bounced over the ruts, she straightened out and stepped on the gas, only slamming once on the brakes when she came up to a ninety-degree turn and nearly slid into a ditch. Looking over her shoulder, in the far distance, she could see the dog still chasing her.

  Behind the dog was Petar with his rifle.

  She completed the turn, stomped on the gas, and sped away fast. Then as soon as she pulled onto the highway, she made a beeline to the Sheriff’s office.

  Dan was inside watching TV as Mabel ran in, tears streaming down her face. He gaped at her and then got up fast for him and rushed to her side. “What the — Mabel! You look like the devil is after you.”

  Mabel was hyperventilating.

  “Just breathe,” said Dan.

  She gulped, her throat dry and hurting. “I… I… f-found—”

  “What happened?”

  “I found him!”

  “Found who?”

  “The killer, Dan! I know who killed Karen!”

  CHAPTER 21

  Ahalf-hour later, Mabel was in the passenger seat of the patrol car with Dan, retracing the roads that she had just driven in a state of terror. While Dan had originally been skeptical of Petar’s guilt, her confidence convinced him to drive back to the property. She was adamant they get there as soon as possible, worried that Petar might try to hide the murder weapon and flee. Her emotions transformed from terror and panic to elation and pride. She had done it, she thought: she had found Karen’s killer.

  As they approached the thickly wooded entrance to the property, Mabel’s fear returned, and her palms and forehead were sweaty. As her breathing quickened too, Dan looked over and said, “Just relax. You’re safe with me.”

  Petar’s black truck was no longer where she had left it. Good, she thought. The guilty always run.

  Dan pulled into the gravel lane, driving carefully over the ruts while avoiding the overgrown tree branches that threatened to scratch the sides of his patrol car.

  As the house emerged through the trees, the boxer leaped off the porch and ran to the car, barking furiously.

  Dan whooped his siren, scaring the dog backward, but it didn’t stop growling.

  The screen door opened.

  Petar stepped out, and Mabel gasped. He ordered the dog to the porch and then kicked it to make it sit.

  “Okay, Mabel, I’ll do the talking. You stay in the car,” Dan said, opening his door and getting out. He raised a palm, signaling that he just wanted to talk, but kept his other hand near his holster. Petar remained on the porch but glanced at the rifle on the bench beside him, then back at the Sheriff.

  Petar spied Mabel inside the police cruiser and yelled, “She was trespassing!”

  “I’m only here to talk,” Dan said, before shutting the patrol car door and walking over to the porch steps.

  Mabel expected Dan to slap handcuffs on him right away. When they kept talking in normal voices — she was unable to hear the conversation with the door shut — she grew frustrated. Petar gestured toward Mabel and his truck. Dan pointed to Mabel and then the dog. Petar paled and looked shocked, and Mabel wondered if the Sheriff was asking about the murder. Petar pointed to the forest in the direction of town, looking more confident now, and the Sheriff raised his palm again. Mabel was confused. He wasn’t arresting him. In fact, it looked like Dan was trying to soothe him!

  After a few more minutes of gestures and talk, Petar swiped his arm angrily in Mabel’s direction and then went into the house, bringing the dog with him. The shack’s door slammed shut as Dan lumbered back to the cruiser.

  “What are you doing?” she asked when he opened the door and got in. “Arrest that man!”

  Dan gave her a frustrated glance but stayed silent. He put the car in reverse.

  “Hold on. You’ve got to look for the murder weapon. It was right there, in the gravel. He must have picked it up!”

  The Sheriff clenched his jaw as he started driving out.

  “Dan!” Mabel said. “He’s the murderer!”

  “Mabel. He ain’t no murderer.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “He was working his shift.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was working his shift the night that girl was murdered.”

  “The mill was shut down that night.”

  Dan frowned but didn’t stop the car either. “I guess it was.”

  “He’s going to flee if we leave him.”

  “If he runs, he’s guilty,” Dan said. “I’m fine with that. But I can’t be taking in no innocent man, Mabel. Whether he was working his full shift or not, we’ll find out soon enough. I’m gonna ask at the mill. It’s not yet six, and the main office don’t close before then. We got time to figure this out.”

  “He’s going to flee,” Mabel said, lifting her arms up in frustration, believing with all her heart that she had found the killer. But when Dan didn’t stop, she added. “Fine. You do that. Then we’ll find out the truth.”

  Dan glanced at her but was wise enough not to say anything more.

  It was a silent drive back to town.

  As they pulled into the mill a few minutes shy of the main office closing for the night, they parked. Both Mabel and Dan got out, but Mabel led the way in.

  “Hiya,” Consuela said, happy to see Mabel at first glance. As Mabel, clearly flustered, rushed over to the counter, Consuela’s face showed her concern. “What happened?”

  Mabel half-turned, standing tall, and gestured for the Sheriff to take over.

  The Sheriff seemed a little sheepish under Mabel�
�s gaze, but he went on. He said, “Hiya, Consuela.”

  Consuela looked between the two, clearly confused, and asked, “What can I do for you both?”

  Dan cleared his throat and said, “I need to ask you about an employee.”

  “Petar Brzila,” Mabel added.

  “Petar?” Consuela asked, surprised. “Yes, he works here.”

  “We need to know if he worked a shift a month back.”

  “Petar? He works off and on. More of an on-call man.”

  Mabel gestured to Dan like this proved her point. But Dan ignored her. “If you don’t mind, Consuela, can you check for me?”

  “Sure, Sheriff,” she said. “Is he in trouble?”

  Mabel nodded, but Dan waved her off. “Now, we just want to see if he was working that night.”

  Consuela did so but was uncomfortable as she did it. She paged through the register and asked, “Which day?”

  “September 3rd,” both Dan and Mabel said.

  Consuela scanned his record. “Uh, yes. Wednesday, September 3rd. The four to midnight shift. Oh! The night the poor girl was killed. Yes, we were closed due to a maintenance issue, but the manager took some of the men, including Petar, for a supply run near Edmonston. About four of them went.”

  “Wait, what?” Mabel said. “That’s impossible.”

  “It’s right here,” Consuela said, putting the register on the counter and turning it so both could read it.

  “Well, he could have just signed up for his shift and then left.”

  “But then he doesn’t get paid, dear.” Now it was Consuela who sounded confident. “If they leave their shift early, they lose pay. He’d have to ask Bob, his foreman, for permission. See Bob’s signature here? Bob wouldn’t have signed off a full shift if Petar didn’t go. Bob doesn’t pay men who don’t work, especially on-call boys like Petar.”

  Dan leaned back, looking both vexed and relieved. He said his thanks to Consuela and gestured for Mabel to follow him out.

  “Is he in trouble?” Consuela asked as they left.

  Dan glanced at Mabel before looking back. “No. He ain’t. Sorry to be bothering you.”

  Mabel berated Dan as they went outside. “Dan! How do we know he went with the manager? It could have been faked. We should talk to him.”

  “You serious? Drop it! You almost got yourself killed back there.” Dan was fuming but was trying hard to calm himself. He stopped at his cruiser door. “Look. Petar Brzila is not your man. I know Bob. Like Consuela said, he don’t sign off on a shift if his men don’t work.” He sighed. “Get it through your head, Mabel. Petar isn’t the one. That Winston boy is. And you certainly don’t need me to tell ya that when you go trespassing on some folk’s properties, you’re going to wind up shot.”

  “But—”

  “Enough! Stop this.”

  Mabel was about to argue back, having been so sure Petar was the killer a moment ago, but with all the adrenaline pumping in her system, her frustration simply dissolved into tears.

  Dan let her cry for a moment and then softened his tone. “Look, I know you care about that Winston boy, and you think he is innocent. But you have to realize that you are doing more harm than good here.” Mabel wiped her eyes, angry at herself for showing weakness. “I didn’t tell you on the drive back, but I warned Petar not to come after you or I will hunt him down. You got no worries there. But you know Mabel, you can’t make enemies like this. This is a small town. There are a lot of bad characters around. Trust me.”

  Mabel didn’t answer, feeling defeated, and Dan must have noticed it as he continued, “Now. Enough of this. You’re a good woman, Mabel. You just have that kind heart of yours that gets you into trouble is all.”

  She nodded, a little ashamed. “I’m sorry I got you involved.”

  “It’s my job,” Dan said. “Come on. I’ll drive you back to my office so you can get your car.”

  Mabel nodded again and got in the cruiser. In the silence, she had some time to think.

  Maybe Petar wasn’t the killer, she thought, looking over at Dan. But that don’t mean a killer ain’t loose. And what happened today just proves it. Bad men live in this town just like Dan said, and if Petar isn’t the murderer, then it’s darn obvious someone else is.

  She settled into her seat, confident again, and didn’t tell Dan that she had three more suspects left on her list.

  CHAPTER 22

  Saturday, October 11

  Why did you want to come along?” Kerry asked Mabel as they drove down the highway. “I’ve driven to Lisa’s house by myself lots of times. Don’t you trust me?”

  “I do, dear,” Mabel said, and though her intent hadn’t been to tell Kerry why, she felt compelled to now. “I want to apologize to Consuela.”

  “So that’s why the pie.” Kerry nodded towards it on Mabel’s lap.

  “Pumpkin is her favorite.”

  “So-o-o?” Kerry prompted, eager to know. “What’s the apology about?”

  Mabel sighed. “I told a lie.”

  “You? Lied? Wow. I didn’t think you did that.”

  Mabel flushed. “I don’t, normally, but I needed information for the case.”

  “Oh, it’s about a case? That’s legit. Cool.” A short pause. “So? What was the lie about?”

  Mabel sighed. “I told Consuela a customer forgot his wallet and that I needed to match a license plate number to a name to find out who to give it back to.”

  “Oh, Auntie!” Kerry drawled out to dramatize her shock.

  “I know. I feel really bad.”

  “No, stop. I’m teasing,” Kerry said. “I think you’re overreacting.”

  “That’s what the Sheriff said.”

  “You told him about the lie?”

  “No. About the case. He said I should drop it,” Mabel said and looked off into the deep woods. Although she didn’t want to frighten Kerry, Mabel needed to confide in someone, so she confessed, “I also made a mistake.”

  Kerry took her eyes off the road to look at Mabel. “What happened?”

  “I followed one of the men from the sawmill to his home out near Sandy’s Ridge.”

  “Oh. My. God.” Kerry’s jaw dropped. “Wait a minute. Blue River is like totally the boonies, but even I know you shouldn’t go to that area — that’s crazy.”

  “It gets worse,” Mabel said. She launched into the full story from searching the truck for clues to her confrontation with Petar Brzila, ending with him holding a rifle as she sped off.

  “Wow. That’s dangerous,” Kerry said quietly.

  “It doesn’t end there, Luv,” Mabel added and then finished the story about returning with Sheriff Dan and speaking with Consuela.

  Kerry was shocked. “That man must be furious with you. Will he come after you?”

  Mabel shook her head. “Sheriff Dan told him not to. That I was to be left alone.”

  Kerry pulled in front of Lisa’s house and parked the car. She didn’t get out but didn’t look at Mabel either. “What about Fred and Hector?”

  “What about them?”

  “You could’ve got hurt. Maybe killed.”

  “Oh, I’m fine, dear. Don’t worry. I’m safe.”

  “No. That’s not what I meant,” Kerry said, getting worked up. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent. Trust me. I don’t want the boys to go through that, too.”

  Mabel grasped Kerry’s hand. “That’s the sweetest thing. But it’s all good now.”

  Kerry pulled her hand away and burst into tears.

  “Oh, Luv,” Mabel said. “I’m—” Fine, she was going to say, but stopped, clueing in that Kerry was more worried about what a mother’s death might mean to Hector and Fred. And that rocked her. As a mother, she should have put her kids first and not the case. What would have happened if she had been killed? Her kids would have lost their mom, and now, with Bill gone, they needed their mom more than ever.

  Shaken, Mabel teared up too and then reached over and wrapped Kerry in a big hug. After
a few moments, Kerry stopped crying but stayed within Mabel’s embrace. Mabel wiped the tears off the girl’s cheeks until Kerry grabbed a tissue and moved away.

  Mabel said, “You’re a good girl, you know? Too wise for your years.”

  Kerry dabbed at her wet eyes and offered a half-smile. “Lisa is probably watching and thinking we’re dorks.” Then smiled to show no offense.

  “I love you,” Mabel said.

  “I love you too,” Kerry said, nearly breaking into tears again.

  Kerry got out of the car and ran up the steps and inside like it was her own home. Mabel walked up to the porch as Consuela came to the screen door, clearly surprised to see Mabel and not looking particularly welcoming either.

  Mabel offered the pie. “It’s pumpkin,” she said. Then realized that was not enough. “I really just came to apologize. For my behavior. On Monday.”

  Consuela’s gaze softened, and she opened the door. “Come join me for tea,” she said, then led the way into the kitchen.

  Mabel sat down and waited as Consuela took her time, fussed with the kettle, put down two mugs, added tea bags, and poured. When Consuela had finished, Mabel started.

  “Consuela. I am so sorry I lied the other day. I feel terrible.”

  Consuela put her hand on Mabel’s and then sat down opposite and said, “What happened?”

  Mabel had trouble meeting her gaze. “I wasn’t trying to find a customer’s license plate like I said. I was…” She hesitated, realizing how strange this was going to sound and not wanting Consuela to dismiss her like Dan had. “I was trying to find who killed that girl in the mill.”

  “What?! And you think it was Petar? Oh my God.”

  “I thought so at the time. I followed him to his house.”

  Consuela put her hands to her mouth.

  “Yes.” Mabel winced, contrite. “It didn’t go well.”

  “Dear, you had no need to do that. You could have asked me.” She put her hand back on Mabel’s and tightened her grip. “I was so shocked that a poor girl was murdered in this town and left to die in the place that I work. But I thought they found the killer? That black boy who deals Larson’s drugs.”