by Nicole James
“Good. I just needed to get out of the house for a while.”
“I can understand that. It sure is a beautiful day out, too beautiful to be stuck inside. So, what’ll you have?”
“Coffee and how about a piece of that apple pie of yours?” Summer smiled.
“You got it, honey,” Margie replied, turning over the coffee cup and filling it from the pot in her hand. “I’ll be right back with your pie.”
After Margie walked away, Summer took a sip of her coffee and looked out the window at the people walking by. There were workers across the street putting up Christmas decorations. They were attaching Wreaths to all the lamp posts and stringing lights across Main Street. Summer imagined it would be beautiful to drive down Main Street under a canopy of little white lights.
Margie returned with her pie. “Here you go, honey. Enjoy.” She set the pie on the table, winked at Summer and walked away.
Summer picked up her fork and took a bite. Hmm, it was heavenly. She wondered if Margie would share her recipe. She sat and ate her pie and watched the workers for a while.
Glancing around the diner, she noticed Deputy Wilcox sitting at the counter. He had a cup of coffee in his hand, but he was looking at her. He smiled and turned away. A moment later he stood up and laid some money on the counter.
Margie walked up and refilled Summer’s coffee cup.
Deputy Wilcox walked past and tipped his hat. “Ladies.”
Margie watched as he walked out the door. “That man gives me the creeps. He always has,” Margie murmured, her eyes following him as he crossed the street. “I think he might be the one that my waitress, Darlene, was seeing before she disappeared.”
“What?”
“I don’t have any proof but…”
“But what?”
“I don’t know, just a feeling I have. It was the way they acted. She started to seem nervous whenever he came in, and he started coming in more and more. The night she disappeared, he had been in here and he was sitting at the counter. He was leaning over, whispering something to her. When I walked by, they stopped talking and she almost spilled the whole pot of coffee.”
“Did you ever tell the Sheriff?” Summer asked.
“The Sheriff? No, but I asked him.” Margie nodded out the window toward where the deputy had gone.
“What did he say?”
“He denied it. He said they were just friends, but I wonder if he way lying.”
“Margie?”
“Hmm?”
“The night Darlene disappeared…what happened?”
“Well, she and I were alone closing up the place. I was in the kitchen washing dishes and she was filling the saltshakers. We heard a car horn in the back alley. Darlene opened the door and looked out, and said her ride was here. She had mentioned earlier that she had a date. I told her to go on, then. I would finish up. She got her coat and purse, and left out the back door. That was the last time I ever saw her.” Margie paused, looking off, her eyes getting glassy with tears. “I never looked out back or even bothered to ask her who it was. God, why didn’t I look out the door?”
“Margie, you couldn’t have known. Don’t blame yourself. She was a grown woman.”
“I know. It’s just…the not knowing. It’s like when Rita disappeared and-”
Suddenly something clicked in Summer’s head. “Does he drive a white pickup truck?” Summer interrupted, suddenly suspicious.
“Who?”
“The deputy.”
“Well, I’ve usually only seen him in the Sheriff’s cruiser, but, he might have a pickup. Why?” Margie asked.
“Do you know where he lives?” Summer asked.
“He bought the Wilson’s old place at the end of Carson Road. Why?” Margie asked.
“Can you give me directions?”
“What’s this about, Summer?” Margie insisted, her hand on her hip. “You might as well tell me.”
“Margie, the night I lost my memory…there was a light colored pickup truck driving slowly down the road. Maybe it means nothing, but with your waitress disappearing the very same night…and if he was seeing her…and if he has a light colored pickup…” Summer was looking at the table top, her mind trying to make all the puzzle pieces fit.
“Summer, what are you saying?” Margie put the coffee pot down and slid onto the seat opposite Summer.
Summer looked into Margie’s eyes, leaned across the table and whispered, “What if he’s involved in her disappearance? What if it was him up in the woods that night?” I have to get a look at his place and see if the pickup I saw that night is there.”
“Summer, I don’t think that’s a good idea, and even if you did find a pickup, what would that prove?”
“Margie, if I see that truck again it might trigger something in my memory. Don’t you see? I have to try. It’s probably a wild goose chase, but I have to at least take a look.”
After a few more minutes of convincing, Margie finally gave her directions. Soon Summer was driving down toward the end of Carson road, to right before it came to a tee at Bearden Road.
She saw the last house on the right, it was a white clapboard with a red roof, just like Margie had described. Summer drove past and saw the cruiser parked in the gravel drive. She turned left on Bearden Road and drove a quarter mile, turning around. Then she headed back, parking about a block from the intersection of Carson Road. From where she sat, she could see the white house in the distance. She couldn’t see any other vehicles, but there could be one parked behind the house or in the garage.
She wasn’t about to take the chance of driving past again with Deputy Wilcox there. “Come on, leave already,” she murmured to herself. “Don’t you need to patrol or something?” She sat a few minutes, debating driving home, when she saw him come out the front door and cross to the cruiser. He climbed in, backed out and headed down Carson Road back toward town.
Summer waited a minute, then started the truck and drove to the house. She pulled in the drive and parked around back, where Steve’s truck couldn’t be seen. She climbed out and stopped dead in her tracks. There, parked next to the garage, was the white pickup truck with the spotlight on the driver’s side.
Summer felt the blood drain from her face and she suddenly felt light headed and sick to her stomach. All the fear she’d felt the night she’d last seen this truck came flooding back to her. She grabbed onto the side of Steve’s truck and took a deep breath.
After a moment, she calmed down enough to let go and walk over to look at the truck. It was the one, she was sure of it. Glancing over at the house, she wondered what this all meant. What kind of a man was Deputy Wilcox?
She walked over to the house and peered in the window, but she couldn’t see anything. Climbing the steps of the back porch, she looked through the glass into what appeared to be the kitchen. She banged on the door, listening to see if a dog started barking inside. Nothing. Trying the doorknob, she was surprised to find it unlocked.
She glanced around. The nearest neighbor was too far away to see anything. She stepped inside and looked around. The kitchen was very neat. She wandered down the hall. Walking through the dining room and living room, she noticed that nothing was out of the ordinary, except that this man was extremely neat. She walked down another hall. There was a bathroom on one side and a closed door on the other. She walked toward the closed door and hesitated, her hand reaching for the doorknob.
What am I doing here, she thought to herself, not even sure what she was looking for or thought she might find. She turned the knob and walked in. It was his bedroom. The bed was neatly made. She turned and looked at the dresser, and her hand came up to her mouth. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. There were photos stuck all around the edge of the mirror. Photos of naked women, some of them teenagers. They were actual photos, not magazine pictures. There were dozens of them and more in a stack on the dresser. They were not pretty pictures. In some of them, the girls were tied up or blindfolded. Some of them
were taken outside in a wooded area and some of them looked like they were taken in a motel room. “What kind of a sick human being…”
And then something caught Summer’s eye. One of the girls in the photos…
“Oh, my God!” She reached up and pulled the photo down from where it was jammed in the frame of the mirror. She looked at it more closely. It was a picture of Jessie.
Summer looked down at the stack of photos lying on the top of the dresser. She picked them up and flipped through them. They were all Jessie, except for the very last photo at the bottom of the stack. It was an older photo…one taken with one of the old style instamatic cameras. It was turning yellow, but the image was still recognizable. It was a naked photo of Rita.
The sound of the front door opening carried through the house, and Summer felt her heart leap into her throat. She stuffed the stack of photos in her jacket pocket and dashed out of the room, down the hall, into the kitchen and out the back door. Her heart was pounding and she could hear footsteps pounding on the wooden floor of the hall. He was coming after her. She ran down the back stairs and jumped in her truck.
As she turned the key and started the engine, she saw Deputy Wilcox come out the door and dash down the stairs. Summer jammed the truck in first gear and stomped on the accelerator, praying she wouldn’t drop the clutch and stall it. She tore across the yard and turned to see Deputy Wilcox running after her. She barreled through the yard, up a ditch and almost went airborne as she hit the pavement. Looking in her rearview mirror, she saw he’d changed directions and was now running across the yard to his cruiser.
Summer floored the accelerator and drove as fast as the old truck would go. A minute later, she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that the cruiser was closing in on her with its lights flashing. She came up on traffic heading into town and she was forced to slow down. There was a traffic light at the corner of Carson Road and Third Street. She had to stop and he was right behind her. He got out and was at her driver’s door. Yanking the door open, he ordered her out of the vehicle. When she reluctantly climbed out, he grabbed her upper arm and marched her back to his squad car without saying a word. He opened the backdoor and shoved her inside.
She glanced around. There were no door handles on the inside of the rear doors and a metal divider separated the front from the backseat.
He climbed in the front and pulled away, turning the flashing lights off.
“Am I under arrest?” Summer asked. He looked in the rearview mirror and smiled at her, but didn’t say anything and Summer got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that they weren’t going to the station. He went straight through the intersection, avoiding using Main Street. In a few blocks, Summer knew they would be through town and out onto the country roads.
They came to an intersection and they stopped at a stop sign. Just then, Summer saw Justin’s tow truck pull around the corner and he looked down into the squad car and looked right at her. She put her hand on the window and screamed at him. “Justin! Justin, help me!” She banged on the window.
The deputy pulled through the intersection and Summer turned to look out the back window at Justin. She saw him lean out his driver’s window, looking back at her as they drove away.
“He can’t help you, Summer. No one can.”
She turned to see Wilcox smiling at her in the rearview mirror.
Justin couldn’t believe what he was seeing as he’d turned the corner and spotted Summer in the back of the squad car. What was she being arrested for? She’d looked terrified. He threw the tow truck into a U-turn and followed the squad car. Maybe he could meet them at the station and find out what this was about. Maybe she’d need to be bailed out.
By the time he had turned the tow truck around, Wilcox had about a two block lead on him. Justin watched, expecting him to turn left on First Street and cross Main to go down to the station. He was surprised when instead, the squad car made a right turn.
Justin got to the intersection just in time to see the squad car down a couple of blocks, making a left onto State Road 19. He followed. This road led out of town, up into the hills north of Steve’s place, but it was a back way of getting there. This wasn’t the main highway that ran past Steve’s place. So, if he wasn’t taking Summer back to Steve’s farm, where the hell was he taking her? Something about this wasn’t right.
He glanced down at the cell phone lying on his seat and hesitated a moment. “Ah, hell,” he muttered as he picked up the phone and punched in the number to the Garrett farm.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Steve was in the kitchen, looking at the notebook lying open on the kitchen table. It was filled with notes that Summer had written down as she worked her way through calling all the leads that the real estate agent had given her for rental properties up on the lake.
He scanned the page that the notebook was turned to. There were several names and phone numbers. Some were crossed out and some had notes written next to them indicating that she had left a message on an answering machine.
The phone rang and Steve reached over and picked up the receiver. “Garrett’s.”
“This is Bill Taylor. I’m returning a call from a woman named Summer,” the man on the other end said.
“Yes, sir. My name is Steve Garrett. Summer is out right now. Can I take a message?”
“Well, I suppose so. She wanted to know if I had rented some property to anyone with the name or initials CJ.”
“Yes, sir. It’s a long story, but you see, she suffered a head injury and she’s lost her memory. We found her wandering down the highway. No one here in Ruby Falls know her. She and I drove up near the lake and a woman recognized her on the streets of Helen and she told Summer that she only knew her by the name CJ. The woman said she remembered that CJ had rented a place there for the summer.”
“Well, that explains a lot,” the man said. “I had rented out a place to a school teacher by the name of Connie Jean Walker. She signed the lease CJ. She had prepaid for the whole summer, so I had no reason to check on the place. But, when I got that message yesterday, well, I thought I’d better drive by the place this morning and take a look. The place was deserted, but all her things were there and there was still food rotting in the refrigerator. It was like she just walked away and never came back.”
“Sir, where is this place?”
The man gave Steve directions and he jotted them down in Summer’s notebook. “Thank you, sir. As soon as she gets back, I’d like to drive her up there, see if she remembers the place, if that’s okay with you.”
“That’s fine. Her purse was still there, sitting on the kitchen table. So, if it is her, you should be able to look at her IDs, even if she doesn’t remember the place. If you want to give me a call, I’ll meet you there.”
“Thank you, sir. Will do.”
Steve hung up the phone, smiling. Summer was going to be so happy when she got home.
Jessie walked in the kitchen. “What’s up, Dad?” she asked, heading to the refrigerator for a drink.
He turned. “That was a man returning Summer’s call. Said he rented her a place up on the lake.”
“That’s great, Dad.”
“Do you know where she went?”
“She got frustrated earlier and said she was going to town.”
“Well, when she gets back, I’m taking her up to this address and-” The phone rang again. Steve picked it up. “Garrett’s.”
Jessie watched as his expression changed as he listened to the caller.
“Arrested? Summer? For what? If this is some sick joke, Justin-”
Jessie stepped closer. All she could think about was Deputy Wilcox and she panicked.
“Well, where would he have taken her, then? What? Highway 19? Why would he take her down that road?”
Jessie started pulling on her father’s sleeve. “Daddy, Daddy, listen to me.”
“Jessie, I’m on the phone.”
“Daddy, if she’s with Deputy Wilcox you have to g
o get her.”
“Hang on a minute, Justin,” Steve said into the receiver and then said to Jessie, “What are you talking about, Jessie?”
“Is she with him, Dad?”
Jessie sounded panicked and the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stood up. His eyes never left Jessie’s as he said into the receiver, “Justin, was it Deputy Wilcox that had her?” Steve nodded to Jessie and watched as her eyes filled with tears. “Jessie, what is it?”
“She’s in trouble, Daddy. He’s a bad man. He’s going to hurt her, like he hurt me.”
Steve went cold to the pit of his stomach. “Hurt you?”
“You have to stop him!” Jessie screamed at him.
“Justin, where are you?” Steve asked frantically into the receiver. “Good, whatever you do, don’t lose him. We’re coming. I’ll call you when we get to Highway 19. And Justin…thanks!”
Steve slammed the phone down and turned to Jessie and took her by the arms. “Jessie, what did that man do to you?”
Jessie spilled out the whole sordid tale, tears streaming down her face.
When she was through, Steve took her in his arms and held her tight, rocking her from side to side. “Christ, baby. Why didn’t you tell me, Jessie?” he asked brokenly.
“I…I’m so s-sorry, Daddy. I was so a-ashamed.” She was crying so hard she could barely get the words out.
“Shh, honey. It’s okay. He’ll never hurt you again, I promise.”
“Dad, we have to get Summer!” she vehemently insisted, pulling back.
Steve nodded, moving toward a closet where he pulled out a rifle with a scope and a box of ammunition. “Come on.”
He and Jessie ran out the back door and headed to the truck.
Cary was coming out of the barn. “Steve, what’s going on?” he asked when he saw the stricken look on Steve’s face, the gun in his hands, and Jessie’s tears.
“Summer’s in trouble. Come on. There’s no time to lose. Get in your truck and follow us. And Cary? Bring your rifle.”
Cary tore off across the yard to his house. A moment later he came out carrying his gun and a box of ammunition. He jumped in his truck and followed Steve as they both tore down the gravel drive and out onto the highway.
