by Meg Muldoon
And meanwhile, I felt a spark of hope deep within me that I hadn’t felt for a long, long time.
If this was all true, then it was possible that Amelia was alive somewhere.
“Where was Amelia headed?” I asked, feeling my hands tremble. “Do you know?”
“She didn’t tell me, but I always figured she went up to Canada,” he said. “You know, back in the pre-9/11 years, you didn’t need a passport to go there. People passed through the border without any problems, especially at the more rural checkpoints in places like Idaho and Montana. I always figured that’s what she ended up doing.”
Marty paused for a moment.
“At least, that’s what I hoped for. But I always feared that Jimmy McDaniel’s people caught up to her. They couldn’t afford to have such a big liability out in the world like that. They were ruthless, those people.”
A couple of big tears welled-up in Marty’s eyes, and that spark of hope I felt inside suddenly went out like a flame in a snowstorm.
“Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing in keeping quiet all these years,” he said. “I know that her family must have suffered so much over the years, and maybe I should have reached out to them. I thought about it so many times. And when you told me it was her sister who got in that crash, I...”
He trailed off, his voice growing wobbly.
“I was just trying to save Amelia and her baby,” he said. “That’s all. I was just trying to protect them.”
A silence fell over the conversation.
“You did all this for a random stranger, Marty?” I finally asked.
“You know me, Cin. I’ve never believed in that term. Strangers are just people we have yet to befriend.”
I bit my lip, gazing at the big man for a long, long moment.
Then I got up and walked around the booth. I leaned in and gave him a hug.
I felt the Marty’s shoulders tremble a little, as if he was fighting back a sob.
I grew a little teary-eyed, too.
Ultimately, I didn’t know if he’d been right in keeping this secret to himself all these years.
But I did know one thing.
Marty was the good person I had believed him to be all along.
Chapter 60
I pulled out the last pan of Vanilla Pudding Berry pies and set them on the marble counter top to cool.
I turned the oven off, dusted off my hands, and went over to my laptop sitting on the butcher block. I took a seat and gazed at the screen, finding where I’d left off in one of the old archived news stories I’d been reading since Marty’s confession earlier.
It was the first real breakthrough in Amelia’s case in years, and what was more, it completely obliterated everything that the police and media had believed about the two women’s disappearances. If what Marty said was true, the two cases were more than likely unrelated. And not only that, but one woman – maybe even both, if what Laura Baynes’ son had said was also true – might still be alive somewhere.
I scrolled through the news story about Jimmy McDaniels, my eyes finally settling on a mug shot of him that had been taken back in 2016 when he was arrested, convicted, and sent to 20 years for drug trafficking.
And even though I knew he was only a photo on the screen, the sight of that mugshot caused me to break out in a series of hard chills.
McDaniels had white hair, empty pale eyes, and a half snarl on his face that was worse than any Pitbull’s.
He was a dangerous, dangerous man. I didn’t need to read the rest of the news story to realize that, but I did anyway.
According to the article, which had been written at the time of his conviction, Jimmy McDaniels had been a major drug trafficker in the Pacific Northwest for decades. He was also believed to have been responsible for several murders, but authorities were never able to prove it. In the news story, the district attorney was quoted as saying that Jimmy McDaniels was the most dangerous man in the city, and that he deserved much more than the 20-year sentence the judge had given him.
I scrolled down to the end of the story, seeing several blue links with other more recent articles.
I clicked on the one that said “Jimmy McDaniels, noted Portland drug kingpin, dies in prison from heart attack.”
I skimmed the article, which had been published just over a year ago.
Then I took in a deep breath and gazed out the window at the pea-soup thick fog for a long moment, thinking.
This was a groundbreaking development in the case, but at the same time, it brought up a host of other questions. Did Amelia get to Canada? Did Jimmy McDaniels ever find her? And if so, what did he do to her?
And besides bringing up more questions, the development also took what was once a small search area of where she was last seen to one that included more miles of road than I could even figure.
Amelia could have gotten away.
Or Jimmy McDaniels could have gotten her somewhere else.
More possibilities.
And still no real answers.
I rubbed my face, closing my computer.
It was late and it had been one heck of an emotional day. I was drained, and I knew I needed to bring the day to a close.
As soon as the pies cooled enough, I’d toss them in the fridge and head home.
The thought of going home, slipping on some warm fuzzy socks and PJs, and cuddling up in front of the TV with my two favorite fur balls sounded like heaven to me—
Just then, my phone let out a buzz from the front pocket of my apron. I fished it out, happy to see the name on the screen.
“I’m glad you called. How’s it going over there?”
“Good, Cin. Real good. We just got doing our official interview with Marty. It’s the first real big break in the case in quite some time. It might even draw the attention of some other agencies now. We could get more manpower on this. More media attention, too.”
“Is Marty doing okay?” I asked.
“He will be, I think. I think that secret’s just been eating away at him all these years. He seemed genuinely relieved to finally tell the truth.”
“Is he going to face any charges? You know, for lying about what he knew?” I asked.
It had been something I’d been worried about since he’d left to go to the Sheriff’s station.
“It’s possible,” Daniel said. “But if what he says is true, it’s hard not to feel sympathetic for the guy. He was just trying to protect Amelia. And he was scared for himself, too. I don’t know if too many people could hold that against him.”
I let out a slow, steady breath.
“You know, this opens up so many more avenues of investigation now. And I think it’s an encouraging development, Cin. Real encouraging.”
“Even with the possibility that Jimmy McDaniels might have found her?” I said.
“I think it’s better than the alternative that everybody had been thinking all these years. That it was a serial abductor. Now we know that’s not true. And that Amelia lived beyond Christmas River. That’s more hope in both of these cases than anybody has had in a long, long time, Cin.”
I smiled a little, looking out the window at the fog.
“Maybe this will all be like that domino effect you’ve talked about before,” I said. “Everything falling into place now that we’ve figured out one piece of the puzzle.”
“Yeah, maybe, Cin,” he said. “I called, too, to tell you that there’s been another development in the Booze Bandit case.”
“Development?”
“We think that Frank Longworth might not have been acting alone. A few eyewitnesses couldn’t identify Longworth in a police line-up. And from the security footage that we do have, the bandit appears to be of a different build.”
I felt my forehead wrinkle.
“Really?”
“We’re working on identifying who the other accomplice is.”
In the background, I heard the voice of Billy Jasper telling Daniel there was something urgent th
at needed his attention.
“Sorry, Cin. I better get going here. We might have just gotten a hit on that portrait the sketch artist did from Vicky’s description.”
I felt my heart flutter.
Dominos, all right.
It suddenly seemed like we were making progress on all fronts.
“Be careful tonight,” I said.
“I will,” he said. “I love you, Cin.”
“Love you, too.”
The line went dead. I placed the phone in my pocket, staring out the window for a long moment.
Longworth had an accomplice?
I didn’t know why, but something about that lingered with me.
I supposed it could be possible. Maybe he’d recruited somebody else to assist him in his antics. Some other vigilante.
I crossed my arms and stared out the window, thinking for a long while.
Then, I closed my eyes, thinking back to that night at Geronimo. To the moment when I’d reached for the door handle of Warren’s office, pulled back the door and…
The way those arms felt, pushing me to the ground. The flash of hazel eyes just hovering over the folds of the t-shirt. The boots pounding hard and fast against the pub floor as the bandit lit out of there like—
I flipped my eyes open.
Then I let out a scoff in disbelief.
The realization had hit me like a ton of bricks.
“Of course,” I mumbled, shaking my head. “Of course.”
I reached for the phone in my pocket and started dialing Daniel’s number.
The Booze Bandit wasn’t Frank Longworth.
“You’ve reached Sheriff Daniel Brightman with the Pohly County Sheriff’s Office. I’m away from my desk right now, but leave a message with you name and number, and I’ll get back to you.”
“Hey, it’s me. You won’t believe what I just realized about the Booze Bandit—”
The swinging divider door let out a low creak.
I stopped speaking, lifting my eyes.
Then, I let out a scream.
Chapter 61
“Sorry, Daniel. Don’t worry – I’m fine. Just a little too much coffee tonight. I’ll call back in a minute.”
I ended my voicemail message by hanging up the phone. I slid it into my pocket.
“Thank goodness it’s just you,” I said, looking at her sheepishly. “You scared me half to death.”
Rex Dawson’s personal assistant gave me a profusely apologetic look.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Brightman. The front door was unlocked, but I guess I should have knocked before wandering in here.”
My heart was still racing in my chest like a Kentucky Derby horse.
I must have forgotten to lock the door after Marty left.
“I’m sorry to drop in on you like this unannounced. But I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t an emergency of sorts.”
I suddenly realized that Roberta was breathless.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “Rex just called me and said that it’s of the utmost urgency that I take you to the news station to talk to him. He said it has to do with that old cold case you were asking him about. He says he found a box of old notes he’d taken back when he was a reporter, and that he found something important that he needs to share with you.”
I felt my eyes bulge as Roberta spoke.
“Rex sounded a little strange to me when I talked to him,” she continued. “I’m a little worried about him, to be honest, Cinnamon. He seems quite emotional to me.”
Daniel had always told me that things could happen in cases like this – when one thread began to unravel, it could eventually all come undone in fast succession.
I guess I’d just never been part of one this big to see it happen.
We were close. I could feel it in my bones. Close to finally figuring out what happened to both women in 1993.
“He asked me to take you to the news station immediately,” she said.
“Great. I’ll follow you over there.”
I quickly covered the pies with foil and tossed them into the fridge. I slid into my jacket and then turned out all the lights. We walked through the dining room and out into the foggy night.
A moment later, I was heading over to my car. Roberta made her ways to her minivan, parked next to my Escape.
I was about to unlock the door when something down the street caught my attention.
It was dark and misty, but from the glow of the storefront windows and the streetlamps, I could see a woman walking in our direction.
A woman, about 5’7, thin and lean.
Just like her father.
She was coming from the direction of the bread bakery, and seeing her silhouette in the streetlamps now, I had no doubt.
No doubt whatsoever that she had been the one in the Geronimo Brewpub that night, holding Warren at gunpoint and taking his money.
No doubt that the angry eyes that flashed as she pushed me to the ground belonged to her.
Frank Longworth wasn’t The Booze Bandit.
His daughter – Spider Longworth – was.
I thought about running toward her. Confronting her there on the street.
Telling her that I knew the truth.
It was my last thought before a sharp pain exploded at the back of my head.
Chapter 62
“Cin – call me back when you get this. It’s important – it’s about Rex.”
Daniel’s voice came out muffled like it was underwater. I could barely make out of the words, let alone their meaning.
Something felt wet at the back of my head. There was nothing out the windows but a blur of black and blue.
I was in the back of a car – on the spacious floor of what seemed like a minivan.
A woman was driving, and I could make out the silhouette of her arm holding out a phone.
My phone.
I tried to sit up, but when I moved, the pain at the back of my head made me dizzy and sick to my stomach.
The car slowed, taking a sharp right.
A moment later, another voicemail was playing over the phone speaker, echoing throughout the car.
“Voicemail message left at 9:43 p.m.”
“Where are you, Cin?”
At the sound of his voice, hot tears flooded my eyes.
But I held my tongue, keeping silent.
She hung up the phone, tossing it on the empty passenger’s seat like a crumpled piece of trash.
The van slowed, its brakes squeaking.
A moment later, the engine went dead.
Chapter 63
I felt lightheaded and woozy. But I forced my legs to move, stumbling along as best I could through the dark woods.
I really didn’t have any choice.
I glanced back, the tarnished revolver in her hands dully glowing in the red glow of the misty night.
“Why… why are you doing this, Roberta?”
The words came out in a shaky whisper above the sound of the rushing river, roaring somewhere in the distance.
I was injured and I was in pain, but my mind seemed to be working all right.
I just couldn’t understand.
Couldn’t understand why we were out here.
Why she was pointing a gun at me, making me walk.
I thought back to the voicemail message Daniel had left – saying there was something important he needed to tell me.
About Rex.
“Did Rex put you up to this, Roberta? Did he—”
“He doesn’t know about this,” she said. “He doesn’t know about any of it.”
Any of it.
Those three words sent chills down my spine, even though I didn’t understand what they represented.
I kept walking, my feet stumbling along the snowy, uneven ground. I could smell the river in the air, and is roar became louder and louder as we continued along.
I didn’t know how long we’d been driving for, but I with its rushing water, I
had to believe we weren’t too far away from the Christmas River falls.
I shuddered.
I couldn’t let her take me there.
I gulped hard and stopped walking. I turned around to look at her.
Her face was completely obscured by the dark.
“Put the gun down, Roberta. We can talk this out—”
“Don’t you see?” she said, her voice taking on a desperate tone. “I’m trying to save him from himself. The way I’ve been trying to do for thirty years now. Ever since he married my sister. It’s not his fault. It’s his nature. But he can’t go around womanizing. He can’t do that to her.”
I felt another shudder work its way through my body.
“It started with that blonde in Beaverton. He thought he was being so sneaky. He thought he could get away with it.”
Beaverton…
Oh my god.
“You’re talking about… You’re talking about Laura,” I whispered. “Laura Baynes?”
Roberta was silent for a long moment after I uttered her name.
I started shaking violently with chills.
“You know – I got him that job at the Redmond newspaper,” she said. “He’d just married my sister and needed work. I was the office administrator for the paper, and I got him his first job covering high school sports. He used to travel to the Portland area often to follow the teams. That’s how he met her. During one of those trips.”
I stared at the revolver – its glint just about the only thing I could see.
“I figured it out when I had to approve some of his reimbursement expenses. I followed him over there, once, to prove it. I saw him and that bimbo, getting dinner at some fancy restaurant. It was such a betrayal, you see. Such an insult. I knew it would break Suzy’s heart if she found out. It would kill her.”
I shook my head in disbelief, trying to connect the dots as she spoke.
“I’d read in the paper about the first missing girl at the bus stop the year before. And it came to me how I would get rid of that Beaverton bimbo. I called her one day, telling her that I was Rex’s assistant and that he wanted her to board the 9 a.m. bus to Eastern Oregon and get off in Christmas River to meet him. That it was of the utmost importance that she come.”
