False Cast: a small town murder mystery (Frank Bennett Adirondack Mountain Mystery Series Book 5)

by S. W. Hubbard

  A squirrel leaped from a tree and landed on the roof of the cabin. The noise made Ronnie’s head jerk to the left. RJ used that distraction to wriggle out of his father’s grasp.

  Earl had a clear shot. He dropped to one knee on the ledge and aimed his weapon with both hands.

  The guns went off simultaneously.

  Frank recoiled.

  He opened his eyes to see Earl airborne.

  Frank reached out his arms as if to catch a fly ball.

  Earl crashed to the ground fifteen feet below.

  Chapter 40

  In the moment of stunned silence that followed, RJ jumped off the cabin porch and took off running toward the patrol car and the dirt road Earl had driven in on.

  Ronnie stood frozen with the rifle in his hand, staring at Earl’s crumpled body.

  Frank took aim and fired.

  The shot whizzed by Ronnie’s head and he dove for cover inside the cabin.

  Frank fired three more rounds as he half-slid, half-fell down the slope toward Earl. Ronnie did not return his fire.

  Frank saw a bloom of red on Earl’s left leg. The wildly fired bullet had hit him in the leg and knocked him off the ridge. A chance in a million.

  He reached Earl’s side and dragged his limp body under the cover of the trees. Ronnie could have fired again from inside the cabin and easily hit Earl and Frank, but he hadn’t. Maybe Ronnie felt bewildered that his act of bravado produced such astonishing results.

  Frank’s anxious fingers fumbled over Earl’s wrist searching for a pulse: nothing. The leg wound didn’t look that serious. Frank glanced up at the ridge. Could the fall have killed him? People had survived leaps from bridges and skydiving with unopened parachutes. Surely, Earl was strong enough to survive that drop. Then he saw more blood on the rock he had pulled Earl away from. Frank checked Earl’s head and his fingertips came away bloody.

  He pushed his emotion down and turned to work on Earl. He was a victim, not a friend. A victim who needed the skills Frank had been trained to provide.

  He began chest compressions. On the fifth compression he breathed into Earl’s blue-lipped mouth. Five more compressions, another breath. After ten cycles, Earl’s color had improved. He checked Earl’s pulse again. This time he found it, faint but steady.

  In the distance, sirens howled. Frank leaned back on his heels and waited.

  Now, the help arrived. Now, after Earl had been shot. He stared at the silent cabin. Now, after Ronnie had escaped.

  Again.

  Chapter 41

  Why?

  Frank sat alone in the ICU waiting room of the Adirondack Medical Center in Saranac Lake. A TV mounted on the wall flickered silently. Meaningless announcements crackled through the PA system.

  Why had one wild pot shot managed to hit Earl’s leg and knock him off that ledge? Why had his head landed on a rock and not the soft carpet of pine needles just a foot away?

  Frank’s thoughts reeled backward in time.

  Why did Doris’s niece have to be getting married that weekend? Why had he left his phone with her on that of all days?

  Why had he let his ridiculous feud with Marge Malone drag on so that he wasn’t having lunch where Doris could have easily found him?

  Why had he been so cautious pursuing Olivia at the Uptons’ house so that Earl felt compelled to spring into action when she was spotted again?

  Most of all, why had he persuaded Reid Burlingame to expand their duties to Verona? Earl could’ve been safely patrolling Saranac Lake today if only Frank hadn’t intervened to control the future.

  Why?

  The door to the waiting room opened. Pastor Bob ushered Earl’s gray-faced parents into the room.

  Why was he alive and Earl in a coma?

  Chapter 42

  Frank sat in his office face-to-face with Olivia.

  Trudy Massinay sat to one side.

  In the pandemonium surrounding Earl’s rescue, Frank had forgotten about Olivia, and the child had stayed crouched in Frank’s truck for nearly two hours before a passing state trooper had liberated her.

  RJ Gatrell had not yet been found.

  Now, on the first full day of Earl’s hospitalization, Frank intended to cope with his fear by doing the only task within his capability: wrenching the truth out of a trembling twelve-year-old.

  Yesterday, Olivia had been treated at the scene for shock, and had become hysterical at the prospect of going home with either Lucy and Edwin or Anita. Trudy had taken the child to her own house and told Frank that Olivia hadn’t spoken a word either last night or this morning.

  Well, that was about to change.

  “You understand the situation with RJ’s father is very serious?” Frank asked. “That it’s dangerous for RJ to connect back up with his dad?”

  Olivia bobbed her head as if she thought a stronger gesture might provoke Frank to violence. He had always been like a favorite uncle to her. The guy who took her side in arguing for a later bedtime or a second dessert. Now she was afraid of him.

  What had the child seen? What had she been told?

  Frank tried to make his voice gentler, but all compassion had been sucked out of him. He’d been awake all night, staying at the hospital until the doctor announced that they had succeeded in relieving the pressure on Earl’s brain. There was no way to predict, the doctor had said, how long the coma would last.

  Or how serious the damage would be.

  Go home and call tomorrow.

  He hadn’t called. Penny promised to keep him informed, for better or worse.

  “Olivia, you and RJ won’t be in trouble as long as you tell me the truth. The complete truth.”

  Again the barely perceptible twitch of agreement.

  “How did you and RJ get to be such good friends?”

  “Church youth group.”

  Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of that? Pastor Bob had combined seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth grades to get a critical mass of kids. By the time the kids were juniors and seniors, they wouldn’t come at all.

  “Every week, we share our joys and concerns. Kids share that their cat had kittens or that they’re scared they flunked their math test.” Olivia fell silent.

  Frank studied the child he’d rescued five years ago. He thought he’d brought her to a place where the biggest worry in her life would be factoring polynomials. How wrong he’d been.

  “And you and RJ had much bigger concerns.” Frank leaned forward. “But you didn’t share them with the entire group?”

  Olivia shook her head. “After group, we would stand outside the church and talk until his mom came to pick him up. I could walk home.”

  “What did you tell him about?”

  Olivia’s voice dropped so low, Frank and Trudy both had to lean in to hear her. “That when I was living with Edwin and Lucy, I missed my mom. But when I was living with my mom, I missed Edwin and Lucy.”

  “That’s perfectly normal, Olivia,” Trudy said. “Everyone who loves you understands that.”

  “All of us,” Frank agreed.

  Olivia searched their faces looking for signs of duplicity. Finding none, she relaxed ever so slightly.

  “And what did RJ talk to you about?” Frank asked.

  “The revolution.” Olivia spoke with confidence. “RJ said that soon all the banks in the world would collapse and then no one would have any money and people like his dad would come out ahead because they could hunt and fish and shoot and fix things. And people like my mom and Edwin and Lucy would be helpless because there would be no more computers and no more vacations. There would be a war. And the police and the army would be against us. But he said because we were friends, he’d help me save Edwin and Lucy and my mom.”

  Tears spilled from Olivia’s eyes. She kept herself from hysteria by an act of will.

  Frank reached out and took her hand. “Honey, RJ’s dad is not totally right in the head. The things he told RJ aren’t true. We’re not all going to lose our money. There’s no wa
r coming.” He used his other hand to gently tip up her chin. “And the police are not against you. I’ve always been your friend, and I always will be.”

  “Then why is everyone talking about it?” Olivia jerked away and her voice spiked. “RJ showed me the websites. It all made sense!”

  Frank glanced at Trudy for help.

  “Olivia, I’ll explain Mr. Gatrell’s…issues…after you answer all Frank’s questions.”

  Frank took a gulp of the coffee Doris had brewed for him. “What did RJ do to help his dad?”

  “RJ knows how to drive Denny Webber’s truck,” Olivia whispered. “I know that’s illegal.”

  “We’re not going to worry about that right now. What did RJ do with the truck?”

  “He would take supplies to his dad.”

  “Why didn’t RJ just take him the truck so Ronnie could get away?” Trudy interrupted.

  For a moment, the familiar why-are-grownups-so-dumb expression overpowered the anxious mask. “RJ’s dad never wanted to run away. He wants to stay and fight. Once the revolution comes, he can get his land back.”

  Frank closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Facts. Keep her focused on the facts. Trudy could deal with the deprogramming. “How did RJ know what to bring? How did he know where to meet his father?”

  “They had it all planned. They picked out the spots for supply drops. That’s what they did when they played Resist or Die. They practiced for the time when Mr. Gatrell would be a guerilla fighter.”

  Lack of sleep had splintered Frank’s brain into a thousand pieces. Was Olivia telling him that Ronnie had planned for his escape before he’d even committed the crime that put him behind bars? “RJ knew his father was going to run away?”

  Olivia nodded. “He knew it would come someday. He just didn’t know when.”

  “But everyone said RJ’s been very upset since his dad has been on the run.”

  “Before it was a game. RJ didn’t know what it would really be like—that some people would be mad, and some people would call Ronnie crazy, and some people would be on his side.”

  A prickle of tension raised the hairs on the back of Frank’s neck. “Who else was on Ronnie’s side, Olivia? Who was helping him besides RJ?”

  “I told you, there are thousands of people ready to join the revolution.” Olivia squirmed in irritation. “They all know each other from the game.”

  “I mean re—” He swallowed the word “real.” “I mean local people, right here in the High Peaks. Someone who might be helping Ronnie…and RJ…right now.”

  “I dunno. No one ever went with RJ to the drop-offs. He’d just hide the package and go. Only this last time, I went.”

  “And why was this time different? Why did you go?”

  “I had to go with him to return the favor he did for me. He took a risk, so I had to take one too.”

  Frank cocked his head. Everything the kid had done since she’d started writing to her mother in prison had been risky. “What exact risk are you talking about?”

  “On the night I ran away, RJ took me back to the inn. So I could see it for the last time before it got, you know—”

  He didn’t know.

  “Destroyed. In the—”

  “Revolution. Right.” He felt Doris’s bitter brew roiling in his stomach. Was this the moment Olivia would tell him that Edwin had always known where she’d been? “So you saw your fa—, you saw Edwin?”

  She nodded. “Through the kitchen window. He was making dinner, just like always.” Her eyes got shiny. “And that’s when I got the idea to go in.”

  Frank’s stomach heaved. Was it not enough that Earl was clinging to life? Did God have to make him arrest his best friend on the same day? Could Edwin seriously have let her go off with these lunatic Gatrells? “So you went in to tell Edwin where you’d be?”

  Olivia produced an eye-roll dramatic enough to cause vision damage. “Of course not. I sneaked into the office and posted the Facebook message so no one would worry about me. I used a picture I’d taken a while ago that I never shared before.” She stood up and stretched. “RJ was waiting in the truck at the end of the driveway. He would never have let me go in. But I didn’t get caught.” She turned to Trudy. “Can we go now? I’m hungry.”

  Frank laid a restraining hand on her arm. “You still haven’t told me why you and RJ were with Ronnie. This wasn’t just a drop-off, it was a meet-up.”

  “Yeah, Ronnie left RJ a message in their secret spot that he needed to see him.”

  Frank tightened his grip on Olivia’s arm without meaning to. “What secret spot?”

  Again the eye-roll. “I don’t know where it is. That’s what made it secret. They set it up as part of the game.”

  “Where do you think RJ is now, Olivia? Would he have met up with his Dad again after he ran away from the cabin?”

  Olivia squirmed away from Frank. Like rip currents, her moods pulled her closer to Frank then dragged her away. “I think RJ took me along because he was kinda scared. But Ronnie was mad I was there. He said he needed to talk to RJ about how to save their land, but he couldn’t do it with me there. And he got madder and madder until I ran away.” She turned toward the door, her voice a whisper. “I don’t know what RJ will do now.”

  Frank moved to get in front of her, forcing the girl to make eye contact. “Is RJ afraid of Ronnie or of the other people playing the game? Is there someone else helping Ronnie that RJ might turn to?”

  Olivia pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head trying to withdraw as far as possible into her shell. “I don’t know. RJ used to act like he was sure he was right about everything. But now…I just don’t know.”

  Frank was sure Olivia did know something she wasn’t telling him. But questioning a child was different than squeezing information out of a punk like Wade Cochran. He needed to take a page from Earl and be patient, take a step back. He’d let Trudy work with Olivia now, and come back to talk to the child again tomorrow.

  Frank squeezed Olivia’s shoulder. “Thank you, Olivia.” He nodded to Trudy. “Get this kid some food.”

  “Let’s go to the diner, and then we’ll have to go over to your mother’s office. I’m not leaving you home alone.”

  Olivia paused in her rush to leave. “My mom’s not going to go back to jail, is she?”

  “Don’t worry, your running away won’t affect her parole.” Trudy headed out toward Doris’s desk.

  Olivia looked back over her shoulder at Frank. “She won’t go back to jail, no matter what, right?

  Chapter 43

  The ranger called just before lunch.

  “Some fishermen called this morning to report they found a deer that had been shot and partially butchered in the field. They were angry that someone was hunting deer out of season. I thought it might be—”

  “Where?” Frank demanded.

  “Veazey Pond Wilderness. Deep backcountry. There are some hunting blinds out there. Lean-tos. The fishermen found the spot when they were portaging between lakes.”

  “Tell me how to get there.”

  “If you don’t want to paddle, there’s an old logging road that you can access on an ATV. After that, you have to backpack four or five miles.”

  “I have to get my gear together. I’ll meet you in an hour.”

  Frank checked the time. The library stayed open until seven tonight, so Penny wouldn’t be home to plead with him not to go. He got back to the house and swiftly loaded his external frame pack: food, water, raingear, extra layers, sleeping bag, compass, matches, first aid kit, headlamp, GPS, bug spray.

  Gun. Handcuffs. Rope. Ties.

  He scrawled a note and left it on the kitchen table. Have to work all night. See you tomorrow.

  “Let me go with you,” the ranger said.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “But Frank, it’s too risky to go in there alone with no back-up. And what if the kid is with him? It’ll be two-to-one.”

  “I can’t wait for the state polic
e to get their asses in gear. They move like cargo ships. We need a speedboat to catch Ronnie. He’s already shown he knows how to outwit their dogs and their helicopters. I won’t let him slip away again. I owe that to Earl.”

  “You don’t owe it to him to get yourself killed.”

  Frank said nothing. What was the value of his own life? What joy was there in making love to Penny when machines were inflating Earl’s lungs? What happiness could he derive from building Legos with his grandsons when Earl’s hands lay slack? What pleasure could he take from Caroline’s accomplishments if Earl might never walk or talk again? Even bringing Ronnie to justice wouldn’t restore Frank’s happiness. All he could hope was that it would remove one brick from his load of guilt.

  And if he failed and Ronnie killed him, so be it. At the very least, Frank’s murder would ensure Ronnie was sentenced to life in prison with no parole. If Meyerson could manage to catch him.

  “Take this two-way radio,” the ranger insisted.

  Frank made a face. “Just another thing to carry. It won’t work further than two miles.”

  “Two miles is better than nothing. I’m camping right here until you get back.”

  Frank headed into the wood, then turned. “And don’t call the troopers once I’m out of sight. If this capture goes south again, it’ll be on you.”

  Frank set off hiking through the backcountry. Mud sucked at his boots like freshly poured cement. Newly hatched bugs, eager for their first meal, swarmed around his face and neck, drinking the tears in his eyes, taking refuge in his nostrils. If he had been hiking for recreation, he would have turned back in a quarter-mile. The image of Earl tethered to his hospital bed kept Frank placing one foot in front of the other. In the damp, gray light of the forest, time lost all relevance.

  Eventually, a body of water appeared.

  According to the map, this was Birch Pond, and the portage to Veazey Pond would be approximately halfway around the perimeter. There was no path, just an obstacle course of rocks, weeds, roots, and muck.