Lonesome Lake

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Lonesome Lake Page 28

by Lesley Appleton-Jones


  Her hands shook as she gathered her art materials. “I’m going to be late for my next class.”

  He grabbed her arm, and she jumped. Stepping away from her, he said, “You need to go see your uncle now, Mel. It’s important. I wouldn’t risk getting into trouble if it wasn’t. My dad’s going to kill me when he finds out.” In an instant, he realized what he’d said. “Aw, damn. I’m sorry, Mel. I didn’t think.”

  “No problem,” she mumbled, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Raines was on the phone in Holly’s office when he spotted his niece walking across the parking lot. Worry hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. There was something so forlorn about her, something so lonesome. Disconnecting the Sheriff in mid-sentence, he put the phone down. Stooped forward to counterbalance the heavy weight of her backpack, she looked tiny. Why hadn’t he noticed she’d lost even more weight? He hurried out to meet her, fearing the argument he’d had with Abbey the night before had upset Melody. One look at her chalky face and the dark circles under her eyes confirmed that Abbey’s antics had really affected her.

  The night before, Raines had followed Jesse home, told Olivia what had happened and made it clear he didn’t want Jesse hanging around with Abbey. He’d argued late into the night with Abbey, making her promise not to sneak out of the house again or see Jesse anymore. She’d been furious and had yelled at him for ignoring what she saw as the evidence that could free her father.

  While they were arguing, Melody stayed in her room with Memphis. When he’d gone up to check on her, she’d been awake but said nothing, just looked at him with round, sad eyes. He’d spent the night sitting in his office staring out of the window at nothing.

  He opened the door to the station just as she reached it. “What’s up, kiddo?” he said, forcing a cheery tone to keep the worry out of his voice.

  “I need to speak to you.”

  He asked, “Is it about what happened last night with Abbey?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Let’s find somewhere to talk.”

  He took her back to Holly’s office. Holly was in with the Chief and would be a while.

  Melody sat down in the spare seat next to the desk and dragged her backpack up onto her lap. She rested her chin on top of it.

  He sat in Holly’s chair. “So this isn’t about the argument I had with Abbey last night?”

  “No.”

  He was relieved, until her next words.

  “I’m here about your case, but I need you to promise me something.”

  Surprised, he asked, “The Milbourne case?”

  She nodded.

  “If it involves the case, I can’t promise anything, Mel.”

  “Someone could get into trouble if I tell you.”

  “Is this someone a friend?”

  She played with the backpack’s zipper. “He was when we were kids.”

  “How about I promise to do what I can to help him. Would that be good enough?”

  She shrugged. “It’s not just Skeet. Two other kids are involved.”

  “I’ll do what I can. How’s that?” His voice stayed steady and calm even though he was worried. What was she involved in?

  Melody nodded and peered out at him from behind the protective shield of her bangs, like a baby bird peeking up at him from under her wing.

  “What’s your friend’s name?”

  “Skeeter Parrish.”

  Raines didn’t show that Skeeter Parrish’s name was of particular significance to him. “Who was he with?”

  “Jimmy Turner and Nicky Logan.”

  Raines remembered them from the convenience store. This was getting better by the second.

  Melody unzipped the front pocket of her backpack, retrieved the map Skeeter had given her, handed it to him, and proceeded to tell him everything that had happened to the three boys the night before.

  The mention of the Allen house intrigued Raines. In his interview, Charles Milbourne had referenced the Allens. They were friends. Could this be the same family? Or was it a coincidence? Milbourne claimed the Allens were away at the Cape, so their place would be empty. “Did he mention Maybeth Allen?”

  She glanced up, interested. “No. Just the Allen place.”

  “So why does Skeeter think it could be connected to the Milbourne case?”

  She shrugged. “He didn’t say, but I assume that’s because they’re from out of town, and it’s a vacation cabin. Maybe the guy was there to set fire to it.” She shrugged again. “Who knows? What I can tell you for sure is that Skeet is super freaked out. It must have been very scary.”

  “Is Skeeter in school right now?”

  “Think so.”

  “And Jimmy and Nicky?”

  “Probably.”

  “I need to talk to them.”

  “They aren’t going to be happy with Skeet for spilling the beans.”

  “He did the right thing. What can you tell me about the boys?”

  “I’ve known Skeeter since we were kids. We used to play softball and hang out together. That changed as we grew up.”

  “What happened?”

  “You know.” She shrugged in that awkward way teenagers do when they don’t want to talk about it.

  He nodded, remembering his teenage years. He’d gone from viewing Holly as just another player in a game of neighborhood football to worrying about exactly where he could grab her when he had to tackle her. “What’s Skeeter like?”

  “He’s a good kid. His dad is a real jerk, though. Skeet’s always in trouble for the littlest things. When we were kids, Skeet had a black eye a couple of times. I think his dad did it. That’s why you must do what you can to keep him out of trouble.”

  “What about the other two?

  “Jimmy Turner is a prankster. People think he’s bad news, and he can be super obnoxious and say mean stuff, but he’s not tough. He’s a mama’s boy. She always bails him out. You know the sort. Jimmy can’t do anything wrong. All I know about Nicky Logan is that he’s Jimmy’s sidekick and pretty much does whatever Jimmy tells him to do.”

  “Did you know they were breaking into homes?”

  “No.”

  “Did Skeeter say how Jimmy knew that the place was empty?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay. You’ve been a huge help.”

  “I’ll head back to school.”

  “Can I give you a ride?”

  “No, thanks. I don’t want a scene.” She stood and shouldered the heavy backpack. “How much trouble is Skeet in?”

  “We’ll have to see.”

  She ducked her head and let her hair cover her face again. “You know. When that thing happened to Mom. Well, Skeet was about the only kid in school who didn’t treat me like a freak.”

  Anger shot through Raines at the idea of kids treating her that way and his failure to recognize what was happening to her. How could kids pick on her after her mother had been murdered? Why hadn’t he realized how difficult school would be for them? He’d been through it. His mom had walked out on them when he was young, and not long after, he’d lost his dad. People had treated him differently, even avoided him—teachers and students alike, except for Holly. Was that the reason his nieces didn’t bring friends home? Did they even have any friends? “Don’t worry about Skeeter. I’ll take care of him. He’s brave to come forward, and you did the right thing, kiddo. Okay?”

  She gave him a sad, little smile that broke his heart.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Hendricks was in the middle of reporting that there was no suspicious activity on Charles Milbourne’s cell phone records when Raines strode into the conference room. Holly, Chief Finch, Gustafson and Hendricks all looked up at him expectantly. Raines filled them in on what Melody had told him. The information ignited activity at the station to a near frenzy as everyone stopped what they were doing to work the new lead.

  Hendricks called to confirm that the house belonged to Maybeth Al
len. Chief Finch sent Fennis Cooper to secure the Allen property until the State Police could obtain permission to search their residence and process the scene. Next, he sent Angel Natale to the high school to bring in the three boys for questioning while Gustafson notified their parents.

  Hendricks said, “I can’t reach the Allens on the number Milbourne gave us.”

  “In the interview, Milbourne said she was on the Cape,” Holly told him. “He may have another number for her.”

  Raines said, “And we need to ask if there’s a connection between Nancy Taggart and Maybeth Allen. Both of the women knew Mimi, but did they know each other? It can’t be a coincidence that Maybeth Allen’s house was broken into.”

  Hendricks leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Milbourne lawyered up. I doubt he’ll talk to me.”

  Holly offered to call, but the Chief decided to do it. To no one’s surprise, Milbourne refused to say anything, referring him to his lawyer.

  Angel called from Caxton High. He’d located Skeeter Parrish and Nicky Logan, but Jimmy Turner had not shown up at school. Principal Donaldson told him that Jimmy’s parents were away on a cruise. He’d tried calling his house but didn’t get an answer.

  The Chief looked at Holly and Raines. “Get over to his place. The kid took a blow to the head. Could have a concussion. We’ll talk to Nicky and Skeeter. See what else they know.”

  As Raines sped in his Suburban toward Jimmy Turner’s home, he didn’t say a word, but he had a white-knuckle chokehold on the steering wheel that spoke volumes. When they arrived, he sprinted up the front steps and banged loudly on the door. Getting no response, he thumped even harder and yelled out to identify himself. The house was one of the huge McMansions that had been built during the housing boom.

  Holly stood on tiptoe and peered in a window. “Jeez. It looks as if someone tossed the place.” She craned her neck around to see better. “Hey. There’s a chair shoved up against the front door. Sweet Jesus, Cal. You don’t think the guy followed Jimmy home, do you?”

  Raines was already backing away from the door. “We can’t get in this way. The door’s solid. Let’s head around back.”

  They ran around the house and discovered a bulkhead that was wide open.

  “I don’t like this,” Holly said, peering down the concrete steps into the gloom. They unholstered their weapons and crept down into the dimly lit basement. Finding nothing there except a trash bag full of rotting food, they climbed the stairs and entered the kitchen. Holly called out to Jimmy but didn’t get a response.

  Eyeing the mound of greasy pizza boxes, Chinese cartons, discarded milk jugs and beer cans that covered the granite counter and filled the sink, Holly shook her head. “This is worse than my place, but I don’t think it’s been tossed. The kid’s been partying.”

  They walked into the hall and found that he’d wedged a dining room chair under the front door handle and had shoved a couple of rubber door stoppers in the frame for extra security.

  “All the lights are on. The kid must have been so scared here all alone in this huge house after the beating he took.” A shiver scurried up her spine. “Let’s just hope he’s at the grocery store restocking for the next party.”

  Raines took the stairs two at a time, calling out, “Hello, Jimmy. It’s the police.” Nobody answered.

  Fear began to flutter in her stomach as Raines opened the first door. It appeared to be a guest bedroom, and it was almost as messy as the kitchen. The sheets and comforter were askew. Several beer cans sat discarded on the nightstand; one of which was overflowing with butt ends.

  In the next room, they found a bathroom with towels and dirty clothes heaped on the floor. Holly had a feeling the next room would be Jimmy’s, and she had an unpleasant sensation that they were about to find something they didn’t want to see. Raines pushed on the door.

  They found Jimmy sprawled out on his bedroom floor. Blood had congealed around his ear and neck, and he was unconscious. A pillow lay discarded next to him with a trace of blood on it.

  Rushing over to him, Raines dropped to his knees and gently placed two fingers on the boy’s neck to check for a carotid pulse.

  Holly squatted down beside him. Jimmy appeared so much younger now and vulnerable. His nose was bloody and looked broken. It appeared as if someone had used the pillow to smother him.

  Raines checked his watch as he counted. “His pulse is weak, barely there.”

  “I’ll call it in.”

  “No time. We have to get him to the hospital fast. It’s his best chance.”

  Holly agreed. The hospital was this side of North Caxton, maybe five miles from where they were.

  Raines stood up, bent down and scooped Jimmy up as if he were a little boy. The teenager’s head lolled back over Raines’ arm, and Holly gently lifted it up against his shoulder. As he cradled him, Holly could see his biceps strain against his shirtsleeves. The kid had to weigh a hundred and forty.

  Holly ran ahead, taking the stairs two at a time while Raines took them more slowly. She dragged the chair from under the door handle, kicked out the rubber stoppers wedged into the frame and swung the door wide open.

  As Raines passed her, he said, “I may need room to perform CPR. The trunk has the gun safe in it. Put the back seat down. You drive. I’ll get in there with him. The keys are still in it.”

  Holly ran ahead and put the seat down. Luckily, there was plenty of room in the Suburban. Raines carefully placed Jimmy down and jumped in beside him. Holly slammed the door and raced to the driver’s side.

  The tires chirped as she stomped on the accelerator and tore out of the Turners’ driveway. She radioed in that they were transporting Jimmy to the hospital and requested that they get units rolling to clear their way down the White Mountain Highway. The narrow road twisted through a valley bordered by steep granite cliffs. A mile down the road, she made a sharp right. With the lights blazing and sirens howling, the black SUV rocketed south toward North Caxton.

  Two miles out, Raines yelled, “I’ve lost him, Holly. Move it! Move it!”

  She glanced back in the rearview mirror as he scrambled to his knees to start chest compressions. His lips moved as he began to count silently to himself.

  She yelled back, “We’re close. Hang on.” Luckily, this section of road was straight and wide. Gripping the steering wheel even tighter, she pushed the bulky Suburban even faster. Its massive wheelbase, powered by a V8, consumed the next three miles in two minutes.

  Ahead, Holly spotted the flashing lights of a patrol car at the only intersection they needed to go through before making the left to the hospital.

  She slowed, knowing that railway tracks crossed the road immediately before the intersection. Angel Natale waved at her as she passed him, but she didn’t risk raising her hand in acknowledgment.

  She could hear Raines in the back, breathing hard now from the effort of chest compressions. Finally, the hospital entrance was ahead. She slowed just enough to make the sharp left without sending Raines flying.

  The hospital sat at the top of a small hill. The ER staff stood outside waiting for them. Holly spotted a white doctors’ coat amongst a group of pale blue scrubs.

  Pulling up next to them, they ran to the back of the SUV with a gurney. Raines lifted Jimmy out and placed him on it. A nurse climbed up on top of the gurney, straddling Jimmy so she could continue CPR as the others rushed Jimmy inside.

  Holly turned to Raines. “I’m blocking the entrance. I’ll park while you stay with Jimmy. He may come around long enough to identify the guy.”

  Chapter Sixty

  The parking lot for the main hospital was almost full, but Holly found a spot close to the emergency room entrance. They’d made it, but had they been in time to save Jimmy? The rural hospital had a good reputation and a dedicated staff. They would do everything they could for him.

  Holly slid out of the Suburban and locked it. As she headed to the main doors, she noticed a man exiting the hospital. Althou
gh he was about thirty feet away, his slim frame and shaggy brown hair were familiar. She recognized him from his driving license photo. “Tim Smith!” she yelled.

  Startled, the man froze and glanced around. Then he spotted her.

  She got a good look at him. It was Smith. “I need to speak with you.”

  His mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but he snapped it shut, turned to his right and bolted.

  Holly rushed after him, but he reached a beat-up Toyota Corolla fifty feet ahead of her. He jumped in, revved the engine and backed out.

  To block his exit, Holly ran over the mulched divider and into the middle of the lane. She held up her badge and yelled for him to stop.

  Hunched over the steering wheel, he stared at her, his eyes wild in his pasty-white face. He shook his head back and forth and blared his horn. When she didn’t move, he revved the car. When she still refused to get out of the way, he drove straight at her, tires squealing.

  Holly dove for cover between two pickups. Landing with a thud on the unforgiving tarmac, pain exploded down her shoulder and already injured leg. A loud, metallic crunching noise warned her that Smith had hit the pickup on her left. From her position on the ground, she saw his feet as he stumbled from the car.

  Using the bumper to hoist herself up, Holly carefully placed weight on her left leg. It hurt like hell but didn’t give out. He’d really pissed her off now.

  Wrenching out her handcuffs, she yelled again for him to stay put. He spun around to face her and froze. For a split second, she thought she had him, but when she took a step forward, he turned and took off again, sprinting for the woods at the back of the hospital.

  Swearing loudly, Holly took another step and winced in pain. Gripping her thigh, she squeezed it to ease the throbbing and limped after him. Although he moved much faster than her, he couldn’t resist glancing back over his shoulder to monitor her progress. As he did, he tripped, and although he quickly scrambled to his feet, he’d provided her with just enough time to gain on him. With the determination of the toughest NFL defensive tackle in pursuit of a quarterback, she lunged at him, using momentum and her body weight to pound him into the ground before he had a chance to get away.

 

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