All Roads Lead To Murder

by Lynn Bohart

  Blair volunteered to go outside with the binoculars and give us a heads-up if she saw the motorhome approaching from Sparrow Road. She jumped out and hid around the corner of the building. We had waited only a few minutes when the walkie-talkie crackled.

  “Mama Bear calling Green Bay,” Goldie’s voice called out. “Come in Green Bay.”

  I pushed the button to talk. “Who the heck is Green Bay?”

  “You guys,” she responded.

  I sighed and rolled my eyes at Doe. “Okay, what’s up?”

  “Nothing. We haven’t seen them. There’s a bunch of homes up here and some roads that do cut off. But they’re dead ends.”

  “So they’d still have to come back this way.”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, we’ll hold tight,” I said. “Keep looking.”

  “Okay,” Goldie said. “Over and done.”

  “That would be over and out,” I said with a sigh.

  The minutes dragged on until a half hour had passed. Inside the Hulk, the air was tense as we waited, and it looked like Blair was also getting anxious standing outside. Either that or she had to pee. She kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

  A sharp rap on the door startled us. I opened it to find a tall, middle-aged police officer standing outside.

  “Good evening, ma’am,” he said tipping his hat.

  “Hello,” I responded tight-lipped. My heart was in my throat. “Can I help you?”

  He looked around me into the RV. “I wonder if you could step outside.”

  I glanced behind me at Doe and Rudy. “Um…sure. All of us?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  We filed out of the Hulk and lined up outside. By now, the sun was down and the corner street lamp had come on. A a second officer came around the back of the RV with Blair in tow.

  “What is this about, officer?” Doe asked, holding Tinker Bell in her arms.

  He had his notebook out. “We’ve had a complaint.”

  “A complaint?” I said.

  “Yes, m’am. From one of the neighbors.” He nodded across the street to the house with the sloping driveway.

  I glanced that way and saw the curtains at the front window move. Someone was watching us.

  “Can I have each of your names and the license of the person driving?” the officer said.

  We glanced at each other, but rattled off our names. He took his time writing them down, while Rudy went back inside to get her license.

  “What’s going on?” Rudy finally asked after he’d checked her ID. “Have we broken some law?”

  “No, ma’am. Not yet,” he said, flipping his notebook closed. He nodded to the home kitty-corner from us. “The neighbors said you were acting suspiciously.”

  “Suspiciously. Us?” I protested in an innocent tone.

  “Yes, ma’am. They were concerned. They saw this woman hiding behind the building there,” he nodded toward the auto repair shop. “And your big motorhome was just sitting here with its engine running.”

  He stopped talking at that point, turned to us, hooked his fingers through the loops in his belt and stared, waiting.

  Count to three.

  “Well, we weren’t doing anything wrong,” I finally said.

  “What were you doing?”

  Now, it was us who just stared.

  “We’re waiting for a friend,” Blair finally blurted out.

  “Why were you hiding?”

  Blair’s demeanor quickly changed. One of her shoulders dropped. Her head tilted to the same side, and she crossed her arms, clamping her breasts together.

  “Officer,” she purred, stepping closer to him. She stood right under his chin, lifting her baby blues in his direction. “I think you’d agree that I shouldn’t just stand out by the road all alone. There are a lot of good ‘ole boys trolling these streets. I was watching for our friends, so I kept to where I was protected. That’s all.” Blink. Blink.

  It worked.

  He coughed once, glanced at her cleavage and then stuttered, “Uh…yes, of course…not, I mean. I…uh, well we’ll let the neighbors know you’re just waiting for someone.” He stepped back and put his notebook away. Then, in an effort to reclaim the upper hand, he said, “But I wouldn’t stay here too long. Best to move along as soon as you can.” He gave us a nod, handed Rudy’s license back, and the two officers returned to their cruiser, which was parked directly behind us.

  We all clambered back into the RV as they drove over to speak to the complaining neighbors. We watched them get out of the car as the home’s front door opened. They had a short conversation with a man and then left.

  “Phew, that was close,” I said as the man closed the door.

  “No kidding,” Doe said. “Thanks, Blair. Once again, you rock.”

  She smiled demurely. “Thanks. But we still don’t know where Monty and crew are. And those cops might come back to check on us.”

  We waited another fifteen minutes before the walkie-talkie crackled. I reached over and pressed the button.

  “Hi, Goldie.”

  “Mama Bear to Green Bay,” she said.

  “Yes, I know, Goldie,” I said with a deep sigh. “What’s up?”

  “We found them!”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  According to Goldie, she and Aria had driven up several dead-end streets around the lake and finally spied the gray and white Tioga RV parked in the driveway of a small house that looked empty. They couldn’t tell if anyone was in the RV, or if Monty and the others had gone into the house, but all lights were off–both in the motorhome and in the house.

  “Okay, we’re coming up,” Rudy said. “Where are you?”

  “Dunno,” she said. “You’ll pass a small store on your right. It’s the second street past the store. Turn right. You’ll come up a hill, and then you’ll pass another, shorter street that cuts off to the left. They’re at the end of that street. Hold on.” We heard Aria’s voice in the background, and then Goldie added. “Aria’s got her infrared glasses out to see what that street is.” We all shared an incredulous look at the mention of infrared glasses. There was more mumbling, and then Goldie said, “Okay, the street that cuts off the one we’re on is called Sterling Road. See you soon.”

  We followed them up Forest Glen, passing fancy, multi-level homes at the water’s edge to our left, flanked by tall aspen and oak trees. Smaller cottages sat along the road to our right, overshadowed by steep hillsides filled with tall pines and low vegetation.

  The two-lane road twisted and turned for several miles. With no street lights, it was slow going, especially because we had to keep a look-out for the store. Finally, we found a small market tucked into a hillside, surrounded by trees. Even though it was after ten p.m., a group of young people hung out in front of the store, while cars pulled in and out of the dirt parking lot.

  We passed the store and found the road we needed on the right. It was called Broadview Street. We made the turn and climbed a winding hill into a residential neighborhood. Aria’s camper was parked almost at the top of the hill, just past Sterling Road. We pulled around a cul-de-sac and parked behind her, facing downhill. As Rudy turned the wheels to the curb and cut the engine, our door opened and our co-conspirators climbed in.

  “So what does it look like up there?” I asked them.

  “Both of these streets end with a circle,” Aria said. She had changed into a black turtleneck, camouflage cargo pants, a bomber jacket and combat boots, making me wonder what she expected to happen that night. “There are only about eight houses on Sterling,” she said. “It appears half of them are empty. I think a lot of these places are vacation homes, so people are probably only in them sporadically.”

  “And the house where the gray motorhome is parked looks empty?” Rudy asked.

  Aria nodded. “There’s no car out front or in the carport, and all the lights are off. It’s just the motorhome in the driveway.”

  Rudy sat back, thinking. “I wonder i
f this is the extra stop Monty was talking about.”

  “Shouldn’t we just call the police now?” Doe asked once again. “Seems like we’ve done our job.”

  Blair and I shared a concerned glance. April’s dream loomed large in my mind.

  “I’d like to find out if the girl is actually Amy Owens,” Rudy said.

  My heart skipped a beat. “I would, too. Maybe they’re all just drug dealers, and that’s why they ran.”

  “All the more reason why we should call the police,” Doe argued, her facial muscles tensing.

  “But remember April’s dream and what we learned when Julia was held captive in that church basement back in December,” Blair said, recalling our first murder investigation. “The police can’t get a search warrant without evidence. The most they could do right now is knock on the door and ask questions. All these guys would have to do is to lay low and not answer the door.”

  “And then they might kill the girl,” I said. “I don’t want to take that chance.”

  Doe sighed. “What do you think we can do? Besides get ourselves killed in the process?”

  “We could sneak up there and peek through the windows,” Blair offered. “Maybe we can see Amy. If they had a wig on her in the restaurant, they probably took it off inside the home.”

  “I take it you’re willing to be the one to go check,” Doe said with a slight challenge to her voice.

  “Yes, I am,” Blair said.

  “So am I,” I added.

  “I’ll go,” Aria said, raising her hand.

  “No,” Rudy said. “You should stay here. If they come out again, they’ll likely turn down the hill, and you and Goldie can be ready to follow them again.”

  Aria sighed with disappointment. “You’re right.”

  Oh well, there went the need for combat boots.

  “Okay,” Rudy said. “Blair and Julia can launch from here. We have the walkie-talkies and our phones.” She leveled a serious look at Blair. “You’re going to have to be quiet, though. If you use the walkie-talkie, whisper. Better yet, back away from the building before you try to communicate with us. If it’s an emergency, do what you have to do.”

  I could feel the tension grow around me again, and goosebumps prickled my arms. I glanced at Blair. “You okay with this?”

  She bit her lower lip, but said, “Yeah. They’re drugging that girl, and God knows what else. We need to find a way to help her.” She turned to Doe. “We can do this, Doe.”

  She held Blair’s gaze for a moment and then sighed. “Then here’s to safe passage,” she said with resignation, reaching out her hand.

  The rest of us placed our hands over hers as if the six of us were about to burst forth onto a football field. Instead of a team chant, however, we squeezed each other’s hands. Then, Aria and Goldie quietly returned to their camper.

  Blair and I were both dressed in jeans and tennis shoes. Blair had put on a lightweight jean jacket over her tank top, so I reached into the closet to grab my own jacket. Blair dug through the drawer for the flashlight.

  I grabbed my phone and dropped it into my right pocket. When I did, I felt a packet of Kleenex and the small compass knife Chloe had wanted me to take. My stomach clenched at the thought that Chloe had known I might need a knife. But it gave me a strange sense of resolve and comfort that the ghosts had my back.

  Blair gave me a nod. “We’re ready,” she said, turning to Rudy.

  “Okay. All you’re doing is confirming that it’s Amy,” Rudy said. “Nothing else. Don’t go all commando on us. If she’s there, we call David, who will call in the police.”

  “Why David?” I asked with a start.

  “Because the local police would be more likely to believe him,” she said with a shrug. “We don’t have any real evidence.”

  “Got it,” Blair said. “Be back soon.”

  Blair’s optimism didn’t match the nervous twitch in my stomach. In fact, my adrenalin production was on overdrive, making my hands shake. I swallowed hard and followed Blair outside.

  The temperature had dropped, although it was still muggy, and a slight breeze brought the smell of campfires and lake water as we passed Aria’s camper. We nodded silently to the two dark figures in the front seat. I thought I saw the shadow of Goldie’s hand as she raised it in salute, then we turned the corner to start up Sterling Road.

  Only the first few houses had lights on, and there were no street lamps. Fortunately, the nearly full moon bathed the area in a golden hue. We walked with purpose, as if we were just two neighbors out for an evening stroll.

  When we got to the cul-de-sac at the end of the road, Blair stopped and pointed. The stolen motorhome was parked in the driveway of a small stucco home framed by large hedges. There were no lights and no movement anywhere.

  “Let’s get up close to the motorhome first,” she whispered. “If it’s unlocked, we can check inside.”

  I nodded.

  As crickets chirped away in nearby bushes, we followed the curb around the circle and then broke off and tiptoed up the driveway, coming along the right side of the RV. Blair raised a hand, telling me to stop. We listened for a moment, but heard only the crickets. She pointed at me and then to the building.

  She was telling me to watch the building while she went into the motorhome.

  I nodded and took a step past her.

  The Tioga was a cab-over style motorhome. Quietly, Blair tried the door. It opened with the hint of a rattle. Just as carefully, she pulled open the screen door. When no alarms went off and no one appeared, she slipped inside.

  My heart thumped so hard that my chest vibrated. Behind me, the RV rocked and creaked. I tensed. Outside, there were only the comforting sounds of a rural night.

  A moment later, Blair reappeared and shook her head.

  No one was inside.

  I swallowed hard. That meant we had to approach the house.

  We inched away from the RV toward the building. It was small–maybe 1200-square feet. The curtains were closed at both front windows, and no light leaked from behind them. Blair ignored the front door with its small ivy wreath, and veered into a carport. She peeked into a side window, but everything was dark in the front part of the house. We moved through the carport and approached the rear of the building where the faint sound of voices put us on alert.

  Blair threw out her arm to stop me.

  She pointed to a sliver of light that shone through the blinds at a back window.

  We took a step forward, but the sound of a door opening at the back of the house had us hustling off to the right to duck down behind two large trash cans.

  A voice boomed out, “We’ll be back soon. Keep an eye on her.” We peered through a gap between the trash cans and saw Monty and Roy emerge around the back corner of the building.

  “What are we gonna do about her?” Roy asked, stopping in the carport to light a cigarette. “We’re gonna have to get rid of her soon.”

  I put my hand over my mouth to avoid gasping. They were going to kill Amy. Blair squeezed my other hand in warning.

  Roy inhaled and then exhaled a plume of smoke, which curled up into the air around his bald head. I felt the heat rise in my belly.

  “Not yet,” Monty said. “We need her to control the girl.”

  No, they were talking about Eva!

  “Shit, I can stick that kid with a needle,” Roy said, sucking on the cigarette. “We don’t need her for that.”

  “Sure, and kill her in the process. Eva’s a nurse. She knows how much to use to keep the little bitch quiet.”

  “Yeah, but we left the drugs in that old motorhome. We don’t have enough left to keep her quiet until we get to Chicago.”

  “That’s okay. We’re picking up something in a few minutes that’ll do the trick.”

  Monty’s cell phone rang. He reached into his pocket to grab it. “Mclaughlin,” he said, making a half turn away from Roy. “Yeah…What?…Shit. Okay. Where?…Wait. There’s too much security there.
That wasn’t part of the deal.” He paused to listen. “Really? Half a mil…each?” He glanced over at Roy. “Okay. Yeah, I got it.” He hung up and dropped the phone back into his pocket.

  “What?” Roy asked.

  “That was Yoda,” Monty said, turning back. “He’s pretty pissed. He said the senator isn’t cooperating. Yoda wants us to get rid of the girl and then meet him in Chicago. He has a plan to go after Owens instead, Saturday night.”

  Roy’s bloated features flexed into an ugly grimace. “What plan? Are you sure this guy’s legit? Getting rid of a senator in the middle of a big meeting like that will be dicey. There will be cops everywhere.”

  “He’s legit. And he just offered us enough money to make the risk worth it. Look, we have a pickup to make. Then we take care of the girl. We have to be in Chicago tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Do I need to get a tux?” Roy asked with a chuckle.

  “Dunno,” Monty said, starting to move again. “I guess we’ll find out when we get there. Yoda will call us tomorrow morning.”

  They left the carport, climbed into the Tioga, started it up and backed out of the driveway. Blair quickly fired up the walkie-talkie, calling Rudy.

  “Roy and Monty are coming your way in the motorhome,” she whispered. “They’re going to pick something up. And Rudy, we’ve confirmed it’s the senator’s daughter. We heard them say so.”

  “Okay, c’mon back,” Rudy ordered.

  “No. When they come back, they’re going to kill her. We need to get her out of here. Call the police.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Blair clicked off the walkie-talkie and pocketed it.

  My eyes opened wide. “Wait. What? We’re going to try to get her out of there?”