Trail of Secrets

by Sandra Robbins

  THIRTEEN

  The first thing Seth noticed when he roared into the driveway at Anthony Wilson’s home was that no lights burned in the house. That shouldn’t surprise him. He hadn’t expected Anthony to bring Callie here. He drove around the house and came to a stop at the small cottage at the back of the property. A black car was parked in front, and lights burned in nearly every room.

  Seth jumped from the car, his gun drawn, almost before the car engine had died. Behind him he heard the other officers getting out of their cars. He ran over to the black car, placed his hand on the hood and glanced over his shoulder.

  “The hood’s warm. This car hasn’t been here long.”

  The other officers pulled their guns, and one pointed to the rear of the house. “My partner and I will go around back and make sure she doesn’t try to leave that way.”

  Seth nodded, and the other two officers followed him as he hurried to the front door and knocked. “Mrs. Tipton,” he called out, “we’re with the Memphis Police Department. Open your door.”

  No one answered.

  After a moment he knocked again. “There’s no escaping us, Mrs. Tipton. It’ll go better for you if you talk to us.”

  The doorknob turned, and the door slowly opened. Dorothy Tipton, her face pale and her body trembling, stood there staring at them. “What do you want?”

  “We need to talk with you. May we come in?”

  She didn’t move for a moment, then she sighed and stepped aside. Seth and the two officers brushed past her into the house. They stopped in the entry hall and waited for her to close the door.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “We need some information. Your cousin Anthony Wilson has wounded an officer and abducted Callie Lattimer. We need to know where he’s taken her.”

  She shook her head. “What makes you think I’d know anything about that?”

  Seth swallowed and struggled to control his anger. He glared at her and took a step nearer. “Look, I don’t have time to play games. You ran right by a wounded officer when you drove off from the shelter. If nothing else, I can arrest you right now for being an accessory to attempted murder. If he dies, it’ll be murder. Add your role in Callie’s death to that, and you’re looking at the rest of your life in prison. The thing for you to do is to try to make the best deal for yourself that you can. Things will go a lot easier with you if you tell us where Anthony has taken Callie.”

  Dorothy’s lips trembled, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “I didn’t have anything to do with that. Callie overheard Abby and me talking, and she was going to the police. Anthony said he’d take care of her.”

  Seth gritted his teeth. “Your chances of making a deal are getting slimmer by the minute. Save yourself, Dorothy. Where is Anthony?”

  He could see the indecision written on her face as she struggled to decide what to do. After a moment she burst into tears. Her body shook, and she put her hands on either side of her face and pressed them down hard.

  “All right, I’ll tell you. He has a farm his parents left him. He probably took her there. It’s where he buried that woman’s car after he killed her.”

  “What woman?”

  “The one whose family Judge Lattimer wanted to find.”

  Stunned, Seth blinked. “Hope? He killed Hope?”

  Dorothy shrugged. “I don’t know. Was that her name? She was the one from years ago.”

  Seth could hardly believe what he’d just heard. Anthony had killed Hope? He pushed the thoughts aside. Right now he had to find Callie. “Where is this farm?”

  “It’s north of town. Turn off on the old levee road and drive toward the river. You’ll see it. It has a bulldozer sitting in the yard.”

  Seth turned to two of the officers. “Take Mrs. Tipton downtown and hold her for questioning until we know what the charges are going to be. You other two follow me to the farm.”

  “Detective, isn’t that out of our jurisdiction?” one of the officers asked.

  Seth nodded. “It is. I’ll call the Shelby County Sheriff’s office on the way and have them meet us there.”

  He ran out of the house and jumped in his car. The two officers who were to accompany him did the same, and they sped from the house toward Anthony Wilson’s farm.

  The streetlights seemed to fly by as Seth zoomed along the Memphis streets. The nearer they came to the edge of town the harder he pushed the accelerator to the floorboard. He couldn’t let Callie die. He had to make it in time.

  * * *

  Callie sat in the back of the car and stared out the window. Although she hadn’t lived in Memphis in several years, she still knew the city well. For the past few minutes, though, she’d begun to grow uneasy. They’d left the busy streets of the city, driven well past the city limits and now rode through a sparsely populated area on the northern edge of town. Since turning off the main road, she’d only spotted one farmhouse, and it looked deserted.

  As they rode over the bumpy gravel road, she strained to hear what Anthony and Abby were saying in the front seat, but she couldn’t make out their words. From the tone of Anthony’s voice, though, she knew he was still upset with Abby. Every once in a while the sound of a sob drifted back to her, and she realized Abby was crying as she pleaded with Anthony about something. Callie assumed their conversation still centered on whether or not Abby would be permitted to end her association with Anthony and his henchmen. So far, it didn’t appear Abby had been successful.

  The car slowed and pulled into the driveway of a run-down farmhouse. Callie moved closer to the window and squinted into the darkness to get a better view of her surroundings as they came to a stop.

  The house didn’t look too different from the other farmhouse they’d passed on the way there. Three steps led up to a front porch where the remains of a waist-high railing with posts lay scattered about. Several panes of glass in the windows were missing, and the roof sagged as if in search of the porch posts that had once supported its weight.

  Anthony and Abby climbed from the car, and Callie waited, hardly daring to breathe, to see what they were going to do.

  Abby walked around the car to where Anthony stood by the driver’s side and stopped next to him. Her raised voice trembled with anger. “You have to be out of your mind bringing me out here. I’m an A.D.A. I can’t be directly involved in any of your activities.”

  His laugh sent cold chills racing up Callie’s spine. “Don’t kid yourself. You’re already involved. You stepped over that line a long time ago when you took the first payment to ensure one of my guys never saw the inside of a jail. It’s been downhill for you ever since. You just haven’t realized it.”

  A loud sob tore from Abby’s throat. “Please, Anthony. I want to go home.”

  “Later. First we’ve got something to do.”

  He whirled around and jerked the back door of the car open. “Get out, Callie.”

  She scooted as far away as she could across the seat and cowered next to the window. “No.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “You can make this hard, or you can choose to make it easy. Get out, or I’ll drag you out. And I will be none too gentle about it.”

  Callie debated what she should do. Common sense told her there was no escape. Finally, she slid back across the seat and stepped out into the farmhouse yard. Anthony wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and squeezed so hard she winced in pain.

  Cursing under his breath, he strode to the front porch steps with her in tow. She stumbled up the steps and glanced around wildly for an avenue of escape. Her gaze lit on a large piece of machinery at the end of the porch, and she blinked. A bulldozer? What was it doing here?

  Anthony shoved the door open and pulled her into the house. A musty odor assaulted her nostrils. Glancing around the small room they’d entered, a co
uch and two chairs appeared to be the only furniture in the room. They looked as if they belonged in a landfill.

  Anthony didn’t stop but propelled her through the room and down a hallway with a door on each side. He stopped at the door on the right, opened it and with a hard shove, pushed her inside. The force sent her reeling across the floor and into a table that sat in the center of the room. She straightened up just as the door closed and a lock clicked.

  She ran across the floor and pulled on the doorknob, but it was no use. The door was bolted from the outside. There was no escape that way. Across the room she could make out the shape of a window, and she ran toward it. She grabbed the bottom of the window frame and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Callie gazed around the dark room. A ladder-backed chair sat against the wall across the room. She dashed to the chair, picked it up and hurried back to the window. Grasping the back of the chair, she swung it with all her force at the window. The glass shattered and fell to the floor.

  She raked the remaining pieces of glass from the window and prepared to climb out when her heart broke into as many pieces as the scattered glass.

  Iron bars, bolted to the house, blocked her way.

  She stared at the bars for a moment before she turned away and picked up the chair. She sat it upright at the table and dropped down into it. Crossing her arms on the table, she laid her head on them and thought about Seth. Had he missed her yet? If he had, maybe he was already looking for her. Had he found Marty? Was the lieutenant even still alive? If so, he could tell Seth what had happened. But even with that information, how could Seth ever find her at this deserted farm?

  Her thoughts turned to her uncle, and she wondered how he was doing tonight. She and Seth had planned to go back by the hospital and see him on their way home when she was finished at the shelter. Now she would never see him again because she was about to die. A tear slipped from her eye, and she wiped at it.

  Regret for all the things she should have done during her life flashed into her mind. There were many, but her biggest regret had to do with Seth. She wished she had told him the truth about why she wouldn’t marry him. If he’d known she couldn’t have children, maybe he could have accepted the chance for a rich life with someone else. But she would never know. If only she had the chance again, she would gladly tell him.

  She sat up straight in her chair and stared past the iron bars on the window to the outside of the house. She rose to her feet, walked to the window and looked up into the overcast sky. Her fingers wrapped around the bars, and thoughts of the time she’d spent with Seth lately drifted through her mind.

  She’d always known he was a good person, but the past week he had put aside his anger toward her and had done everything he could to make the ordeal with her uncle easier. In her heart she knew what had enabled him to do that—it was the faith he lived by each day. She’d seen it in his mother’s life, too. She had welcomed Callie into her home and gone way beyond what one would have expected in trying to help her get through a difficult time.

  Seth and Uncle Dan, too, had tried many times to tell her about their faith and about how much God loved her, but she’d refused to listen. She’d blamed God for taking her father and mother and for allowing her to be injured to the point where she could never be a mother. Now, as she faced death in a remote farmhouse, she was completely alone.

  Even as the thought entered her head, she remembered Seth once saying that God was always with us. When we’re going through the worst times in our lives, He doesn’t abandon us, Seth had said. He stays close and gives us peace to endure what must come. Could He do that for her now? Could He help her face death in a courageous way?

  She hadn’t prayed since she was a small child and had begged God to save her mother, but now she felt the need for comfort. Seth and his mother appeared to rely on that. Maybe she should try it, too.

  She leaned her head against the iron bars and closed her eyes. “God, I haven’t talked to You in a long time, but Seth says You’re always there if we just reach out. Just be with me and help me face whatever is about to happen. And God, be with Seth. Don’t let him blame himself for this. Just help him be happy.”

  Callie inched closer to the window, and the glass on the floor crunched beneath her feet. The night air drifted into the room, and she inhaled the sweet smell of honeysuckle from nearby. The aroma spread through her body, and in its wake a feeling of peace like she’d never known filled her. Was this what trusting God felt like?

  Before she could question herself further, loud voices rang out from the front of the house. She rushed to the door and pressed her ear against it in an attempt to hear what was being said.

  “I won’t do it!” Abby Dalton’s shrill cry pierced the quiet.

  “Yes, you will.” The angry tone of Anthony’s voice chilled her.

  “You can’t make me! I’m leaving!”

  “Oh, no, you’re not. I’m not about to let you mess up a good thing. Now sit back down!”

  “No!” The sound of running footsteps echoed through the house.

  “Come back here, Abby!”

  Callie pressed her ear closer to the door, but she jumped away and covered her mouth with her hand at the sharp crack of a gun followed by Abby’s scream. The silence that followed sent shivers racing through her body, but it was the sound of heavy footsteps outside the door to her room that paralyzed her with fear.

  She backed up against the wall and held her breath as the door swung open. Anthony stood there, staring into the room. “Are you ready, Callie?”

  The memory of moments ago, asking God to help her face whatever she must, made her straighten her back and push away from the wall. She clenched her fists at her sides and took a step toward the man she’d always considered a close friend.

  “Anthony, if you’re going to kill me, I think you owe me the explanation of what this is all about. What are you involved in and why are you doing this?”

  He stared at her for a moment before he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He kept the gun trained on her as he moved closer. “I’m only protecting myself, Callie. If you and Dan had just left it all alone, everything would have been all right.”

  Callie frowned. “Left what alone?”

  “Hope’s identity. I tried to get him to drop the case years ago, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He was determined to find out who she was.”

  “B-but I don’t understand. What does she have to do with all this?”

  Anthony sighed and shook his head. “Dan and I were young cops trying to make the next step up the ladder, but it wasn’t coming for me fast enough. I needed more money than I was making, and I couldn’t wait any longer for a promotion. So I enlisted a few guys I’d arrested once or twice, guys like Carlos Allen, and we began a little extortion scheme. We offered protection to small-business owners in exchange for payment.”

  “Protection from whom?”

  Anthony laughed. “That was the beautiful part. Protection from us. All they had to do was pay us each week, and we wouldn’t show up to wreck their stores or rough up their customers. Let that happen a few times, and you’re out of business.”

  Callie glared at him. “So you preyed on small-business owners, people who made little money to start with, and you got rich.”

  “Something like that. The money began to add up, and we branched out. One guy who owned a small convenience store right off the interstate decided he didn’t want to pay anymore. When Carlos and I showed up one night at his stop-and-shop, he had his nephew, who was a cop, waiting for us. When he stepped out of the back room with his gun aimed at us, I had to defend myself. So I shot and killed him.”

  Callie’s eyes grew wide. “You killed a fellow officer?”

  “Yeah, he left me no choice. But that wasn’t the trickiest part. A woman traveling through to Californi
a had stopped to get some coffee to keep her awake and walked in just as I fired the gun. She tried to run, but Carlos caught her and put her in the back of my police car. We knew we couldn’t leave two witnesses, so we killed the store owner and set the place on fire. Then we brought the woman here, killed her and dumped her in the river.”

  “That was Hope! You killed her, too!”

  He shrugged. “I did what I had to do at the time. Carlos drove her car out here, and I used my bulldozer to bury her car by the barn. I thought we’d erased all traces of her, but I was wrong. I never dreamed her body would wash up on shore.”

  Callie’s stomach roiled. This was what she had wanted—to find out the truth behind Hope’s murder. But she hadn’t suspected the answer had been staring her uncle in the face for years. “And then you pretended to investigate the case of a woman you’d killed.”

  Anthony chuckled. “That was the funniest thing of all. Dan and I were assigned the case completely by chance. I kept telling him we’d never find out who she was, but he was obsessed with that case. It got worse through the years. In a way, I guess I was obsessed, too. I was afraid if he ever found out who she was, something might come to light that would point the finger of suspicion at me. I always had to stay one step ahead of him.”

  “I suppose that was easy to do because he trusted you. You were his partner, his best friend.” Callie spat the words at him.

  “I just tried to keep close to what he was doing, like when he got the idea to put her DNA in the database, I offered to do it for him. Then I destroyed it. And when he stumbled onto the information about Carlos at the shelter, he began checking court records and saw how many defendants were being sent there to do community service. He was asking too many questions, and I knew he had to die. When Carlos failed with that assignment and was about to be taken into custody, I had to take him out, too.”