Josephine had been telling the truth. She hadn’t lied when she said her brother was a vegetarian. Trent Sanchez had been the one staying in that cabin. And she’d likely been telling the truth about the assault on Betsy – her brother hadn’t done it. And she was out there on her own now, without anyone watching her.
“I think he’s here in town,” he told his boss. “I’ve got to go.”
He hung up and quickly dialed Lorenzo Mancini, who pulled up in front of the restaurant minutes later and rolled his window down, grim faced.
“Get in. I’ve got news,” Deputy Mancini told him, before he had a chance to say anything. “A body has been found at a campsite out in the woods. Hunters stumbled across his body. Unfortunately, it’s going to be a little hard to identify him. His face has been beaten so badly he’s unrecognizable. He’s been dead less than twelve hours.”
“Good God.” Cooper felt ill. It was entirely possible that the dead man was Jason. If so the condition of his body would make sense, because Trent could have tortured him to make him talk.
He could go find Josephine and ask her to identify the body, he knew, but the news would devastate her. He wanted to make sure he didn’t make her panic for no reason.
Deputy Mancini took him to the county morgue to look at the body, into the icy cold room with the metal bank of doors like filing cabinets.
The room reeked of disinfectant and the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights made Cooper feel queasy.
The coroner’s assistant grabbed a metal handle, slid open a drawer…and Cooper looked down, feeling a wave of relief.
And a wave of shock rolled over him when he realized who it was.
The man’s face had been beaten to an unrecognizable pulp, but Cooper recognized a cluster of small round white scars on the back of the man’s hand from when he’d met up with him shortly after Jason took off. Scars that looked a great deal like cigarette burns, left-over souvenirs of a painful childhood.
“That’s not Jason Sawyer,” Cooper said. “It’s Trent Sanchez. Trent had gambling debts, he was in deep with the mob, and he apparently went missing right after Jason took off. The treasure that Jason’s searching for…Trent came here to search for it too. He apparently tried to arrest Jason for a phony probation violation; probably wanted to make sure he’d find the treasure first.”
“So you think Jason did this to Trent?” Lorenzo looked puzzled. “I could see him killing Mr. Sanchez, maybe, to escape arrest, but here’s no reason for him to have tortured him; this looks like the work of a psychopath. Nothing in his record shows this level of violence. ”
“I don’t think it was him,” Cooper said.
And then a thought occurred to him, and it sent a lightning bolt of fear through his body. He’d never felt this afraid before.
He called back his boss. “Trent Sanchez is dead. Somebody tortured him…it looks like they tortured him to make him talk. You said that Trent was heavy into gambling…were the people he owed money to part of the Columbian mob?”
“Yeah…how’d you know?”
He felt literally nauseous. He almost threw up in the garbage can next to him.
Manuel had clearly been sent here to look for Trent Sanchez when Trent ran out on his gambling debts. He’d tortured Trent before killing him, and Trent undoubtedly talked. Maybe bargained for his life. Told Manuel that Jason was here looking for a fortune in gold, that Josephine was somehow involved…
And Josephine had no idea what kind of man he was.
Cooper had driven her into his arms. He had handed her over to a killer.
He turned to Lorenzo, feeling the blood drain from his face. “I need your help,” he said. “This is a matter of life and death.”
Chapter Seventeen
“I’m pretty sure I’m going to look like a bruised up freak forever,” Betsy said, examining her swollen face in the mirrored reflection of the Crooked Creek Pharmacy’s window.
“Probably,” Cheyenne agreed, squinting into her reflection and applying lip gloss.
“This is the part where you’re supposed to jump in and be reassuring.”
“You know me. Reassuring’s not my thing. But if anyone makes fun of you for looking like a freak, I’ll kick their ass. How’s that?”
“The best I can hope for, I imagine.”
“Hello, ladies. You make a black eye look beautiful, Betsy.”
Betsy spun around. Jason Sawyer, looking tired and rumpled, was standing there in broad daylight in the middle of the street, with tourists and townspeople streaming by.
“What are you doing? Have you gone crazy?” Betsy hissed. “Somebody will see you!”
“Wait, this is him? The bandit?” Cheyenne turned around to stare at him.
“We need to get you out of here!” Betsy said, her voice shaking with panic.
“I came to say goodbye. My being here is putting the people that I care about in danger. The treasure is gone. It’s time to end this; I’m going to turn myself in and take my chances at trial.”
“No!” Betsy protested, her eyes filling with tears. “This is ridiculous. I’m still working on a few things; we don’t know for a fact that the treasure is gone, and there’s some other angles I’m working on, and…”
But he was shaking his head.
“My God. You guys have totally been doing it,” Cheyenne said in wonder, her gaze swiveling back and forth between the two of them.
“Cheyenne! Shut up! This is serious!” Tears spilled from Betsy’s eyes and ran down her bruised cheeks.
Jason gathered her in his arms. “There’s something I wanted to tell you before I turn myself in.” He sounded choked up too.
“You’re not turning yourself in! This is ridiculous! It’s like dropping out of the race when you can see the finish line!” Betsy protested.
“There is no finish line here.” He lowered his voice. “Did Josephine tell you about our father? That he was a con man and a thief?”
“Yes, but can we talk about this later?” Betsy was urgently tugging on his arm, trying to pull him into an alley between two buildings.
Jason leaned in and whispered in her ear. “I did steal money, for years and years. I stole it from men who made their living exploiting people. They’d made their money illegally. I made anonymous repayments to every single person my father stole from. And the people that I stole from, I always made sure that I had enough dirt on them that they never ended up wanting to press charges. I just wanted you to know that.”
“Hey, loverboy,” Cheyenne snapped. “We need to get you out of sight before Betsy blows a gasket. Come on, you can hide out in my house until – stop that!”
Jason was waving at a sheriff’s deputy who had just rushed out of the nearby coffee shop and was running to his patrol car.
“Excuse me, I’m Jason Sawyer,” he called out. “I believe you gentleman are looking for me? I’m here to turn myself in.”
The sheriff’s deputy glanced back at him distractedly. “Jason Sawyer? Okay, go inside the coffee shop and wait for me. I’ll be back.” And he leaped in his car and took off.
Two other patrol cars raced by, sirens wailing.
“Why are they ignoring you? And where are they going?” Betsy asked, uneasy.
Jason shrugged, looking puzzled. “Well, that was anti-climactic. I guess I have time to buy you ladies lunch. I must say, I expected the local law enforcement to be a little more excited to see me.”
Cheyenne’s phone rang. Lorenzo Mancini was on the line. “Cheyenne, where’s Josephine?”
“I don’t know,” Cheyenne lied automatically. “Where are all the patrol cars headed?”
“They’re looking for a hired killer who may have kidnapped Josephine!”
“What the – what?” Cheyenne stared at the phone, baffled.
There was a pause, and then Cooper’s voie was on the phone. “Cheyenne, listen to me. Josephine’s life is in danger. Josephine’s brother was set up by his probation officer, who found out abou
t the treasure and came to town to look for it. We just found his dead body – and we think that the man who killed him is that Spanish guy who’s been hanging around your restaurant. The one Josephine went on a date with last night. I don’t have time to explain any more; where is she?”
“If you’re lying to me, I swear to God I’ll kick your balls from here to Denver,” Cheyenne cursed.
“I’m not lying!” Cooper’s voice was rising with panic. “For the love of God, tell me where she is!”
* * *
“I’m a monkey!” Edna’s grandson, Mickey, yelled down from his alarmingly high perch on an oak tree next to Edna Vale’s house.
“Monkeys need to hold on tight!” Josephine yelled up at him.
“I can see everything!” Mickey shouted down, and shimmied even higher up the tree.
“Good lord, he’s a daredevil. But an adorable one,” Josephine said.
“Isn’t he, though? Takes after his grandmother.”
Edna had just spent the morning gardening, and her spade leaned on the front porch. She’d served up homemade lemonade this time, the perfect blend of sweet and tart.
Cooper had apparently decided that he wanted to talk to Josephine again; he’d tried to call her 20 times in the last ten minutes. She didn’t bother to answer, although she yearned to hear his voice again. So what if he wanted her back – for the moment? He’d just find something else to accuse her of, and then walk away again.
Josephine’s cell phone rang again, and she glanced at it, and winced. It was Manuel’s number.
She’d agreed to have dinner with him the night before, and instantly regretted it.
Not that he was bad company. He’d been attentive and charming, and very interested in everything about her. He’d asked her endless questions about herself, her family…
She just had a feeling that his personality was about as sincere as the beautiful porcelain veneers on his teeth. He seemed to be acting a role, somehow. The role of a man who said whatever he thought a woman wanted to hear, in order to seduce her, she imagined.
And more importantly, he wasn’t Cooper. And she wasn’t ready to even begin to think about any other man. His abandonment, his lack of faith in her, was like a raw aching wound inside her, a wound that felt like it would never heal.
She’d begged off early, before dessert, had even tried to pay for her own dinner, but he’d politely refused. She was surprised that he was even bothering to call back again.
“Manuel,” she said. “I’m kind of busy. Can we maybe chat later?”
“Where are you right now?” His voice had changed from last night. Then he’d spoken in a low, seductive purr. Now his voice was like cold metal that would sting your hand if you touched it.
“I’m getting ready to go to work,” she said.
“You’re lying.”
“What?” Josephine was taken aback.
“I said, you’re lying. Bitch.”
She heard his voice on the phone, and also from the trees that crowded around Edna’s house. Josephine’s blood turned to icewater in her veins as she looked up. Manuel was walking towards them with a gun pointed at them, and the mask he’d worn the night before, the mask of the charming Latin lover, had slipped off. Now he had the face and the hard gaze of a stone cold killer. She went perfectly still.
“The treasure,” he said, when he got closer. “Where the fuck is the treasure?”
Edna’s grandson. He hadn’t seen Edna’s grandson yet. Josephine forced herself not to look up at the massive oak tree; she stared straight at Manuel instead.
“It’s in a local cave called the Hellhole,” Edna said, looking him in the eye without a trace of fear. “But I’m the only one who knows those caves well enough to lead you to it.”
“Why would you leave the treasure there if you know where it is?” he stared at her suspiciously.
“Because it was too heavy to carry,” Josephine jumped in. “That’s why I’m here, to help her. We were getting ready to go back for it today.” She was playing along with Edna, and desperately hoping that Edna had a plan.
“It looks like we’re going treasure hunting,” Manuel said, with an ugly smile. “And if either of you try to get away, remember…I only need one of you. I’ll shoot whichever one of you annoys me more and leave them to bleed to death.”
Josephine’s heart hammered in her chest as she reached for her purse; he shook his head, and she stepped back away from it. If she’d been able to bring her cell phone, the police could have used it to find her…which he was well aware of, of course.
Josephine struggled to stay calm as she and Edna followed him off the porch. She’d been in danger before, living in bad neighborhoods, running from bullies, dealing with patients who were psychotic or high on angel dust…
But this was bad. This was very, very bad. Manuel was intelligent and focused and utterly ruthless.
“We’re going to need the ATV,” Edna said, nodding at the covered carport next to her house.
“You’ll drive,” Manuel said.
They climbed into the bright yellow four-person ATV. Emma turned the ignition key, started it up, and soon they were racing through the woods with the wind whipping through their hair. Manuel hadn’t spotted Mickey. But even if Mickey climbed down and called the police…how would they find them? Mickey had been too high up to overhear their conversation, so he wouldn’t know where they were going.
It seemed as if they raced through the woods forever, over teeth-rattling bumps and dips, narrowly missing towering pines. When Edna finally stopped, Josephine didn’t see a cave entrance anywhere, just thick underbrush and trees that shot up into the sky.
“This is a trick,” Manuel hissed, as they scrambled off the ATV.
“The cave entrance is hidden. How do you think the treasure stayed hidden all these years?” Edna said, and she turned to what looked like a solid wall of vines. When she grabbed the vines and parted them, Josephine gasped. A dark hole yawned open, a doorway to a hidden world.
Edna grabbed Josephine’s wrist and began pushing forward, with Manuel quickly scrambling in behind them.
“Hey – it’s dark!” he protested.
“Sure is,” Edna said sweetly, and picked up her pace, hauling Josephine through a low-roofed tunnel.
“Stay with me, and hug the wall,” Edna said in a low voice, and suddenly they were standing.
A flash of light flared behind them; Manuel had a small flashlight on his keyring. Quickly, Edna scrambled away from him, towards the back of the cave, pulling Josephine with her. The narrow beam of light stabbed through the darkness, seeking them, not finding them.
They could hear Manual’s angry breath, his muttered curses, as Edna led Josephine deeper and deeper into the cave. His voice was getting further and further behind him, as Edna expertly negotiated curves in the cave wall and pulled Josephine through what felt like the entrance to a tunnel.
“Wait for me! Get back here!” Manuel’s voice held real fear now.
Josephine and Edna kept pushing forward. Josephine’s breath was coming in gasps, and she struggled to quiet her breathing so he wouldn’t hear them.
“Bitch! Get back here! I’ll shoot you both! In the fucking kneecaps, bitches!” His voice had gone high and shrill. “Oh yeah – I’ll take my time with you!”
“Goodness, he’s quite the potty mouth, isn’t he?” Edna said to Josephine, as if they were talking about a little boy cursing on a schoolyard. “That’s just poor upbringing, is what it is. Spare the road, spoil the child, I always say.”
“I heeear you!” Manuel sounded crazed, and his voice was getting closer. Josephine tensed in fear.
Then there was a sudden shriek, which seemed to go on for a shockingly long time, followed by a sickening thud…and silence.
“Yep, that’s a long drop,” Edna said with satisfaction. Suddenly she was holding up a bic lighter, which cast a tiny flickering pool of light around them. She held her arm out, showing Josephine the
deep pit in the floor – the one she’d steered Josephine around.
“Josephine! Josephine!” It was Cooper’s voice, sounding a million miles away, echoing oddly through the cavern tunnel. “Answer me! Josephine! I’m here!”
His voice was strangled with panic and bounced off the narrow walls of the cavern, but Josephine thought it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.
Chapter Eighteen
“I’m the biggest fool in the world. My God, if anything had happened to you…” Cooper’s face still had a ghostly greenish white cast under his tan.
“I’m here now. I’m safe.” Josephine’s hands were still shaking, and Cooper grabbed her hand and held it tightly in his.
“I’m never going to let you go again. You thought I was stalking you before? You haven’t seen anything.”
They were at the sheriff’s office, with Lorenzo, Carlotta, Betsy, Chelsea, Jason, and Edna.
Jason was handcuffed to Lorenzo’s desk, and Betsy was holding his free hand. Josephine’s stomach was in knots with the knowledge that soon Jason would be headed back to Pennsylvania to face trial.
We’re all alive; that’s the most important thing, she reminded herself glumly.
“Doesn’t anyone want to hear what happened to the treasure?” Betsy piped up.
“Oh my God, you found the treasure?” Cheyenne cried. All eyes were on Betsy.
“Don’t rush me,” Betsy said. “I’m getting there.”
“You can never just go straight to the ending, can you?”
“No, that would be cheating. But you’re all going to like this ending when I get to it,” Betsy promised.
“Is anyone else hungry? Because we pretty much have time to order a large pizza, have it delivered, and eat it before she gets to the end,” Cheyenne said, rolling her eyes.
“Our story moves to Denver,” Betsy continued, ignoring her. “Here’s what my contact there found out for me. Hepzibah and the preacher had five children. Hepzibah was hanged for killing Rose and her husband. Now, here’s where it gets interesting. Cheyenne, did you just snort? You snorted, didn’t you?”
Curvy Girls: The Big Girl and the Bounty Hunter Page 13
