A Desperate Search

by Amanda Stevens

  “You couldn’t have known what would happen.” Adam put his hand on her knee, squeezing ever so lightly. The gesture was intimate and comforting.

  Nikki drew a breath and nodded. “I know that. Rationally, I know her disappearance wasn’t my fault, but I also know that if I’d told her not to go, she would probably still be alive. Married with a family, maybe. An interesting career. And Jenna Malloy wouldn’t have spent the past fifteen years in and out of psychiatric facilities.”

  “You didn’t make those girls go out to the Ruins, Nikki. It was like a rite of passage back then. They probably would have gone regardless of what you said.”

  “We’ll never know. But it wasn’t just my guilt that kept me silent. Tom Brannon’s father was the sheriff. He considered me a person of interest. People were already whispering that the Belle Pointe Five had lured those poor girls to the Ruins for some dark purpose on the night of a blood moon. I was scared of what would happen if anyone found out that I’d talked to Riley before she disappeared, much less that I’d encouraged her to take that dare.”

  “So you wrote it all out in your journal. That was your confession.”

  “I took the coward’s way out,” she said. “Withholding information in a police investigation is illegal. If anyone had ever found out, my scholarships would have been rescinded. So I kept my mouth shut.”

  “What do you think happened to your journal? I assume that’s why you went to the Ruins the other night.”

  “Whoever put Dr. Nance’s watch under the floorboards must have taken it. I can only assume they’ve read it by now.”

  “Yes, and if they’d wanted to use it against you, they would have already done so.”

  “Unless they’re keeping it for another reason.”

  “What reason would that be?”

  Nikki shivered. “I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling that journal is going to come back to haunt me.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nikki arrived at work early the next morning and threw herself into the day’s tasks, letting the autopsies and routine paperwork occupy her hands and her mind. She didn’t talk to Adam all day. She assumed he was out replacing his phone and she hoped he had enough sense to stay away from the salvage yard. He was a grown man, though, and she reminded herself that she couldn’t worry about his every move. She had her own concerns.

  Still, his silence niggled. Despite that, the day flew by and she got so much accomplished that she considered taking off an hour or two early. But then Tom Brannon called. Seeing his name on her phone was never a good sign.

  “Hey, Tom. What’s up?”

  “We’ve got another body, Nikki. How soon can you get here?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Ten miles east of town on Highway 30. I’ll text you the address.”

  “It’ll take me a good half hour and that’s if I don’t hit traffic. Have you ID’d the victim?”

  “Yeah,” he said grimly. “It’s Eddie Bowman.”

  Nikki gasped. “The junkman, Eddie Bowman?”

  “Can’t say I’m surprised. That guy has been living on borrowed time for years.”

  Nikki clutched the phone. “What happened?”

  “Looks like someone capped him in the chest a couple of times. We’ve got the place locked down. No one in or out until you get here.”

  Nikki signed out and checked her kit to make sure she had everything she needed. Then she headed out to the salvage yard. Traffic was light and she made good time. A sheriff’s deputy let her in the first gate and Sheriff Brannon met her at the second. He filled her in as she pulled coveralls over her clothes and grabbed her kit. They both paused at the door to the office to put on gloves and plastic booties. Then he led her inside.

  The body lay on the floor in the cramped office. Blood had soaked through his clothes and pooled on the linoleum. Nikki knelt and began her preliminary examination while Tom looked on. First, she checked to see if Bowman wore a watch. If damaged in a scuffle or fall, a stopped timepiece could give an accurate time of death. He wasn’t, so she went on to the next step, measuring the wounds as she pointed out to Billy Navarro where and how to shoot the necessary photos.

  “Looks like a 9mm,” Nikki said. “Close range.” She glanced around. “No sign of a struggle. He was shot in the chest, so he must have seen his killer. Probably knew him, too. Who called it in?”

  “A guy came out here looking for a carburetor for a ’68 Impala. Said he had an appointment. When he got here, the dogs were raising all kinds of hell, but they were penned up, so he didn’t pay them much mind. Said he hollered for Bowman and then went into the office to look for him. That’s when he saw the body.”

  “What time was this?”

  “Right around two in the afternoon.”

  Nikki nodded. “Going by the body temp, I’d say he was shot sometime early this morning, but I can give you a better estimate once we get him back to the lab.”

  She glanced around, taking in the cramped, cluttered space and allowing herself to think about the unthinkable for one split second. Where was Adam? Had he come back out here to search the office? Would the police find his fingerprints all over the desk and possibly the body?

  Crazy to even have such thoughts. She shook herself and went back to work, collecting samples and directing Navarro’s photography.

  Meanwhile, Tom Brannon had opened one of the desk drawers. “Take a look at this.”

  Nikki didn’t know if he meant her, Billy Navarro or the crime scene personnel who were busy collecting trace evidence. She got up and went to have a look. There were several envelopes inside, all stuffed with cash.

  “He didn’t get this selling old carburetors,” Tom said. “Doesn’t look like robbery was a motive. A drug deal gone bad, most likely.”

  “Or possibly he was into the blackmail business,” Nikki said.

  Tom glanced up. “You know something I don’t?”

  “Yes, and you’re not going to like it.”

  * * *

  ADAM WAS ON his way back from Dallas when he got the call from Nikki on his new phone. He pulled off the freeway and called her back. She sounded upset.

  “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

  “I had some business to take care of in Dallas.” He’d picked up his mail at the apartment, checked in with his lieutenant. He’d even called Dr. Cassidy to schedule a session. Time to start thinking about getting his life back in order. All those loose ends had kept him tethered to the past. “I’m on my way back to Belle Pointe now.”

  “What were you doing in Dallas? Never mind. That’s none of my business and we’ve more pressing matters at the moment.” She paused to draw a breath. “I’ve just come from the salvage yard. Eddie Bowman was found dead this afternoon.”

  Adam was glad he’d pulled over. “What happened?”

  “He was shot twice in the chest at close range. I’m at the lab now. I’ll be here for a few more hours.”

  “Are there any suspects?”

  She hesitated. “I told Tom Brannon about your run-in yesterday with Bowman. I had to. I also told him everything else we’ve discovered. It’s all conjecture at this point, but he needed to know.”

  “You did the right thing. Call me when you’re leaving the lab. We’ll meet and figure out where to go from here.”

  “Tom will want to talk to you.”

  “I’ll go straight to the station as soon as I get to town.” He paused. “Nikki? Be careful. Somebody may be tying up loose ends. We need to figure this thing out before the body count rises in Belle Point.”

  * * *

  BY THE TIME Adam finished at the station with Sheriff Brannon, twilight had fallen. He called to check in with Nikki. She was still at the lab and would be for another hour or so. He drove back out to the lake and sat down at his grandmot
her’s kitchen table to go through the bag of mail his super had collected from his overflowing mailbox.

  He sorted through the usual flyers and bills until he came to a large, thick envelope marked Private and Confidential. The postmark was from more than a week ago. Probably arrived a day or two after he’d left for Belle Pointe. He used his pocketknife to slice the packing tape and then carefully removed a book from the wrapper. It was an old edition of The Talented Mr. Ripley. Adam had no idea what the significance of the title was, but he had no doubt the book had been sent by Dr. Nance.

  He leafed through the pages and then carefully examined the binding. Sure enough, a tiny rolled note had been pushed up through an opening in the spine. He fished out the note, which contained two words: Oak Lane.

  * * *

  IT WAS DARK by the time Nikki left the lab. She was bone-deep tired and wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl between the sheets and sleep until sunrise. She thought about calling Adam to let him know she was on her way, but she decided to wait and call him from home. Traffic was still a little heavy in places and she needed to stay focused on the road.

  A few miles from Belle Pointe, she began to suspect someone was following her. The headlights had stayed a consistent distance behind her ever since she’d left the lab. She hadn’t paid much attention until the traffic thinned and suddenly there were only two vehicles on the road.

  Nikki sped up, letting the needle climb to eighty-five before she backed off as she approached a sharp curve. She rounded the hairpin turn too quickly and nearly lost control of the wheel before she tapped the brakes and slowed. She came out of the turn and glanced behind her. The vehicle made the curve and gained on her. She could see now that it was a truck. She couldn’t tell the make or model, but she had an image of an old panel truck covered in primer.

  She used the voice control on her Bluetooth to call Adam. He answered on the first ring.

  “Someone’s following me,” she said.

  “Where are you?”

  She gave him her approximate location as she split her attention between the road and the rearview.

  “I’m on my way,” he said. “Whatever you do, don’t pull over. Keep driving. I’m coming to meet you.”

  The truck butted her bumper and Nikki gasped as she clutched the wheel.

  “Nikki? What happened? Are you still there?”

  “He just rammed my bumper. I have to go.”

  “Speed up. See if you can outrun him. Just hang in there...”

  Nikki floored the accelerator and her SUV shot forward. As long as the road remained straight, she would be fine. She could outpace the older, heavier vehicle, but they were coming up on another turn. She couldn’t make it at this speed. She had to slow down—

  The truck struck her bumper again, this time hard enough that Nikki momentarily lost control. As they rounded the curve, the truck drew even with her and then swerved into her, forcing her off the road. She fought the wheel and almost had control before her tires spun out on loose gravel. Her SUV mowed down a road sign before bumping headlong down the embankment to crash into a tree.

  * * *

  WHEN NIKKI CAME to she was lying on her side out in the open. She thought at first that someone had pulled her from the wrecked vehicle and left her in the woods. But she wasn’t alone. She could hear a strange, rhythmic sound in the background. She tried to lift a hand to her throbbing temple, but she couldn’t move. A wave of terror washed over her. Had she been paralyzed in the accident? Then she realized that her hands and ankles were bound and a gag had been tied around her mouth. She wasn’t on the side of the road at all but back home in her garden. She could smell the roses. Was she dreaming?

  That rhythmic sound. What was it? A metallic strike followed by a soft thud. And in between, the sound of labored breathing.

  Digging. Someone was digging in one of her flower beds. At this time of night?

  She tried to maneuver to a sitting position, scooting her body around until she could pinpoint her location. Nothing looked familiar. She wasn’t in her yard after all.

  Where am I?

  A scream rose to her throat, stifled by the gag.

  She fell back on the ground, hyperventilating. She forced herself to stay calm. To take deep, slow breaths. Once the haze started to clear she was only too aware of her predicament. She’d been forced off the road and knocked out by the crash. She’d been taken. Just as Riley Cavanaugh had been taken all those years ago. Taken by some unknown assailant who was now digging her grave.

  Panic enveloped her again and she had to remind herself to breathe slowly. Help would be coming for her soon. Adam knew her approximate location on the road. He would already be looking for her. He’d find her car and know that she was in trouble. He could trace her current location using the GPS on her phone, except...was her phone still in her vehicle?

  Think, Nikki, think! You can do this.

  She’d been on her own for as long as she could remember. She could find a way out. She had to.

  She lay quietly for a moment as she worked at the cord around her wrist. It was wrapped tightly, but there was a slight give in the fabric. Just keep working it. Don’t make a sound.

  The point of the shovel struck the ground in front of her. Nikki looked up into the cold blue eyes staring down at her.

  Then Lila Wilkes squatted and brushed the hair from Nikki’s face. She tried to jerk away but the woman grasped her chin. “Hold still. You’ve got some dirt on your cheek.” She licked a finger and rubbed at the smudge.

  Nikki recoiled in revulsion and horror.

  “You must be wondering what you’re doing here,” Lila said in a conversational voice. “Or have you figured it all out by now? I knew it would just be a matter of time. Once you found all those clues poor Charles left behind, you’d put it all together. You’ve always been a clever girl, haven’t you? Do you want to know how I put it all together?”

  Nikki shook her head and tried to roll out of the woman’s reach.

  “Sure you do. I found his diary. I found yours, too, as a matter of fact, but we’ll get to that later. We’re talking about Charles right now. He wrote it all down in his journal. Not in so many words, mind you. That was a bit of a puzzle, too, but when you know someone for as long and as well as I knew Charles Nance, you get how their mind works. Even when that mind starts to slip. The connection is still there. The onset of dementia just made things a bit fuzzy. Do you know what I mean?”

  Nikki stared at her in horror as she worked at the bindings.

  “You must have a lot of questions. I’ll tell you everything before you go,” Lila said. “You deserve that and I’ve always been a good storyteller. I’m a good actress, too. I have lots of talents that no one knows about. No one alive. You’re in a unique position, Nikki. The others were either too lost in dementia or too ravaged by disease and old age to appreciate what I’ve gone through. But you’re different. Still young and vibrant. Still of sound mind. And you come from a dark past, too. We both carry that darkness inside of us. I used to think that if I’d ever had a daughter, I’d want her to be just like you.”

  Nikki shook her head violently, denying any sort of similarity or connection to the woman.

  Lila lowered herself to the ground, settling in. “You already know the part about Charles bringing me here to care for my sick aunt, but I skipped part of the story. I took a bus from Baton Rouge to Belle Pointe and that’s actually the most important part. I met a young woman on that bus. She was alone, like me. A shy, sad widow on her way to a small town in East Texas to care for her sick aunt. Her name, she said, was Lila Wilkes.”

  Sweat trickled down Nikki’s face as she struggled with the bindings.

  “I won’t bore you with the details of my real identity. Suffice to say, I was on that bus fleeing from an uncomfortable situation. I needed a place where I could lie low for a whi
le. Take a new name, get my hands on some cash. When I followed Lila off the bus, I never meant to stay in Belle Pointe. But then I realized that no one knew what she looked like. We were roughly the same age, the same build. Even Aunt Mary didn’t suspect a thing. Not at first. I buried Lila beneath Mary’s favorite rosebush. Twilight Mist. Isn’t that the loveliest name for a rose? I used to cut the fresh buds and put them in my aunt’s bedroom so she could watch them open. After a while, she began to look at me different, and I knew she suspected the truth. Not that it mattered, of course. She couldn’t tell anyone about me. Couldn’t speak, couldn’t write. Could only lie quietly and follow me with her eyes. One day I noticed something strange about her. The horror in her eyes had turned to grudging admiration and, dare I say, affection. She needed me and I needed her. The arrangement suited us both. Honestly, I was quite upset when she passed. I’d become very fond of her.”

  A car sounded on the street. Lila straightened in alarm and then hunkered back down as the vehicle passed. “False alarm. No one will think to look for you in my backyard. Why would they? I’m the town’s guardian angel.”

  The horror and helplessness of Nikki’s predicament were starting to weigh on her. The woman was right. Who would think to look for her here? Who would ever suspect Lila Wilkes?

  “I was surprised to find how much I liked Belle Pointe. Such a sleepy little town. Off the beaten path. A perfect place to hide from my past. I was no longer the girl who had stabbed her boyfriend in the eye with an ice pick. Here, I was an angel of mercy. Offering the sick and infirm a painless demise, followed by a beautiful send-off.” She clasped her hands. “Only two people in this town ever suspected a thing. It took Charles Nance years to put it together, but your grandmother had me pegged from the moment she clapped eyes on me.”

  Nikki froze. Her eyes widened.