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Lonesome Lake

Page 30

by Lesley Appleton-Jones


  She pointed. “By the bushes. I think someone ran across the driveway, but I can’t see him now.”

  Jesse tugged on her hand. “We should get out of here.”

  “No way,” she muttered as she started to shuffle around the end of the woodpile. “I’m going to check out the hut. Something is going on in there.”

  He didn’t even bother arguing. “Not that way. He could spot us on the drive. Let’s go deeper into the trees and come around at the back of the hut.”

  Nodding her consent, they crept through the trees, periodically pausing to listen for movement. When they didn’t hear anything, they walked a few more feet before stopping again to listen. Still hearing nothing, they continued to the back of the shed. Reaching it, they couldn’t see any light shining out through the board she’d pulled off the night before, but Abbey crouched down to peer inside anyway. There was nothing to see, so she stood. That’s when she heard a rustling coming from the other side of the shed. She just had time to grab Jesse’s arm in warning when an explosion of light blinded her and a loud crack pierced the silence.

  Before she could register that it had been gunfire, Jesse fell against her. She struggled to keep her balance but failed. She fell. Jesse landed on top of her, knocking the wind out of her. Seconds later, someone grabbed the back of her jacket and yanked her out from under Jesse’s body.

  She heard a deep voice rasp, “What the hell?”

  She tried to run, but her feet were off the ground. Whoever had grabbed her was dragging her too fast, heading deeper into the woods.

  Although there was some moonlight, she couldn’t see what had happened to Jesse. She called his name. When he didn’t respond, something snapped inside her. Unhinged, she clawed at the hands pulling on her jacket. The man cuffed the side of her head and wrapped his arm around Abbey’s throat. He squeezed hard.

  She struggled, digging her fingers into the muscular arm that was choking her, trying to pry it away from her throat. His grip tightened, and he lifted her off her feet. She kicked and bucked, but he just squeezed harder.

  She heard a gurgling noise and realized it was coming from her. As he carried her further away from the hut, she glimpsed the shape of Jesse sprawled on the ground. He wasn’t moving. She tried to call out but couldn’t breathe. Darkness started to close in. She kicked weakly. Then everything went black.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Holly and Raines found Nurse Deborah at home and questioned her about Tim Smith’s alibi. On Friday night, she’d worked a twelve-hour shift that started at seven. She remembered seeing him when she checked on Edith at eleven and again at one in the morning but not after that.

  Frustrated, Raines and Holly returned to the station to brief Chief Finch and Mayor Randolph, who were preparing for a community meeting.

  They were now alone in the conference room. Holly’s feet were up on the table, and she was practically asleep.

  “Let’s go over it one more time,” Raines said.

  Holly groaned. “We’re getting nowhere.”

  He ignored her. “Let’s assume Tim Smith is out of the running. Start at the beginning.”

  Holly yawned loudly. “We have the dirt bike tracks at the Milbourne house. We know Jesse Keegan has a dirt bike, and his alibi is weak for the night of the murder. He’s familiar with the trails connecting his property to the Milbournes’ as well as your place. He was the only one who knew Abbey was in the woods the night someone tried to grab her unless the killer was there for another reason. Your place borders the Milbourne property. He could have crossed your land to return to the scene, and it was nothing more than a coincidence. Abbey just got in the way.”

  Raines stared at the timeline on the wall as if it could reveal new information. “Jesse doesn’t feel right to me. Especially if we link the Nancy Taggart and Maybeth Allen cases.”

  Holly stood and walked around the room. “What about Gavin Parrish? Lennie Pitts left him alone.”

  “Unlikely. Not enough time. Besides,” Raines said. “He’d screw up a free lunch.”

  Holly pointed to the whiteboard. “But we can link Parrish to both Mimi and Nancy. He was Mimi’s landscaper, and he plowed for Nancy Taggart. We just need to establish whether he knew Maybeth Allen.”

  Raines stretched. “There’s one suspect we can connect with all three women.”

  “Charles Milbourne,” Holly answered. “There has to be someone else unless I’m wrong about him.”

  Raines nodded. “Maybeth Allen is our best lead. She could be the key to the whole case. We need to talk to her.”

  Holly leaned against the wall and folded her arms. “The problem is the Chief said no one can find her.”

  “That’s strange,” he said. “Milbourne said she’s building a hotel. You’d think she’d be glued to her phone. Unless something has happened to her. Let’s have Hendricks arrange for a welfare check.”

  “Too bad Milbourne lawyered up,” Holly said. “He may have another number for her.”

  “How about we try and unlawyer him?” Raines proposed. “I’m also interested in why he lied about his alibi.”

  “First, we have to find him,” she said.

  Raines stood up and walked over to her. She raised an eyebrow. Raines pointed to the map pinned on the wall behind her. She stepped away. “He said he planned to stay up here. Let’s assume he didn’t change his mind. He has money and likes to spend it. His jacket was bespoke cashmere, which probably set him back three or four thousand dollars. He drives a Mercedes. Mimi drove a Porsche. He’d want somewhere private, somewhere he was unlikely to bump into a reporter.” Raines ran a finger up the map before turning to Holly. “I bet he’s either at The Moose Lodge or The Hemlock Inn & Spa. He strikes me as a single malt guy, though. The Hemlock has the best selection of single malts in the White Mountains. That’s where I would stay. It’s out of town, has attractive suites with mountain views, terrific rib eyes and the best whiskey to drown your sorrows.”

  Re-energized, Holly jumped up. “Let’s go!”

  The Inn was fifteen miles north of Caxton in the exclusive resort village of Liberty. From the south, they crossed over the historic Paddleford covered bridge and followed the steep road up that ran alongside the Glen Ellis Falls. The grounds of the hotel were extensive with a golf course, tennis courts and a pool.

  They parked out front and ran up the steps. The concierge and registration area were on the left, the bar on the right. Although it was dimly lit, they could see Charles Milbourne sitting in a leather wingback chair next to the fire, staring into the flames with his chin sunk low on his chest.

  Holly couldn’t imagine wanting to sit anywhere near a fire after what had happened to Mimi and their home.

  “Hello, Mr. Milbourne,” Raines said, striding up to him.

  Milbourne looked haggard like he’d aged ten years overnight. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, wafting peaty fumes into the warm air. “I told Hendricks that I have nothing more to say. Talk to my lawyer.”

  Undeterred, Raines sat down in the chair opposite him. “I’m not asking you to say anything that will incriminate you. In fact, we don’t believe you’re involved, but we need to figure this out for Mimi. The killer needs to pay for what he put your wife through.”

  Tears welled up in Milbourne’s eyes.

  Raines leaned forward and placed a hand on Milbourne’s shoulder. “This man wanted to punish Mimi, really punish her. We’re going to make sure he pays for what he did, but we need your help. All we need is for you to tell us if there is a connection between Mimi, Nancy Taggart and Maybeth Allen.”

  Charles Milbourne lifted his head with renewed energy. “What’s Maybeth got to do with this?”

  “Her house was broken into last night, and nobody can reach her.”

  He glanced up at Holly. “I gave you her contact number.”

  “She’s not answering. We’re worried about her. You mentioned that she was going to the Cape. Do you have another number?”


  “No, but she could be out sailing. She sails late into the season.”

  “What’s the name of the boat?”

  “Nauti Girl. It’s moored down in Sandwich, Mass.”

  “Can you think of anything that connects all three women?”

  He started to shake his head but stopped abruptly. “If you’re hinting I’m the connection, this conversation is over.”

  “We’re not suggesting that,” Raines told him. “But my gut says they are connected somehow. The only problem is that your alibi didn’t check out. The fact that you knew all three women doesn’t help your case. Clear your name. Tell us where you were. Help us catch this bastard.”

  Milbourne scrutinized him for a moment before staring back at the fire.

  Holly looked at Raines and shrugged. As she turned to leave, Raines gave it one last shot. “All I’m interested in is the murder. Whatever you’re into doesn’t concern me. This isn’t the time for self-preservation. It’s the time to man up. Be the guy Mimi would want you to be.”

  Milbourne drew in a ragged breath and turned to face them. “I was meeting with Kevin Johnson, the CEO of ArachniMed, the night my wife was murdered. ArachniMed is developing a method to use spider silk for drug delivery into the body, but the clinical trials don’t look promising. Kevin and I invested heavily in the company. We shorted the stock using our wives’ maiden names to cover the loss when the results are released and the stock price plunges. If caught, we’ll be charged with insider trading. Our careers will be over. That’s it. I had nothing to do with Mimi’s death. I was just trying to save my sorry ass.”

  With great deliberation, he placed the whiskey glass on the table next to him and continued. “There was something, but it was over a year ago. Mimi mentioned it at dinner one night, but my memory is sketchy. She’d asked Scotty Pepper to investigate an insurance fraud for Nancy Taggart. Mimi was Nancy’s insurance broker. A woman had sued Nancy over a slip and fall case at one of the properties she managed. After the insurance company paid out, Nancy discovered that the woman was ill and faked the fall because she needed money to pay the medical bills. There was enough evidence to press charges, but in the end, Nancy felt bad for the woman. Instead of pressing charges, they talked to her about returning the insurance payout. Unfortunately, she’d spent the money. The night Mimi told me about the case was the night the woman had cut a deal to turn over her house to Nancy and Maybeth, which was used to pay off her debt. I think Maybeth plans to tear down the house and build a condo complex on the land. Nancy was her development partner.”

  “Do you remember the woman’s name?”

  “No, but Scotty Pepper would. Talk to him.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “That’s all I have.”

  Holly and Raines thanked him and left. Back in the SUV, Holly turned sideways in her seat to face him. “Tim looks good for this. The nurse could have been wrong.”

  Raines frowned. “Edith had the money from the viatical. She didn’t need to sell her place. That was the whole point of cashing in the policy.”

  “True, but did she get enough? Cancer drugs aren’t cheap. I heard that some of them cost over ten thousand a month. If insurance doesn’t cover it, you’re talking big bucks.”

  “But Tim is still living in the house. We need to check the deed.”

  Holly pulled out her phone and called it in.

  After she disconnected, Raines said, “Let’s go find Scotty. See if he knows who the mystery woman is.”

  His words caused an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she’d left the iron on, and she’d return home to discover her house had burned down. Scotty was connected to all three women, she thought, as the Suburban’s tires rumbled over the covered bridge’s wooden decking, but Scotty wasn’t the cause of her edginess. It was something else. Something she couldn’t place—like a scent dissipating too quickly for the brain to recognize it.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  The persistent thumping in Abbey’s temple drummed her awake. Groaning, she tried to lift her head but moving hurt too much. Disoriented and feeling nauseous, it took her a moment to remember what had happened.

  Fear seized her, penetrating her confusion. She was stuffed headfirst into a passenger seat footwell, and the vehicle was moving. Her hands, taped tight behind her back, throbbed. Her left shoulder ached from the pressure of her weight crushing it into the floorboards. Unsure if her feet were bound, she strained to move them but couldn’t.

  Then she thought about Jesse. He’d been shot. Was he alive? Had someone found him? Her pulse raced even faster. She needed to get back to him, get help. Not wanting to alert her abductor that she was awake, she fought against her need to straighten her body to relieve her discomfort. The longer he believed that she was unconscious, the longer she would have to come up with an escape plan.

  Suddenly the truck veered to the right and slammed into something solid. It stopped them dead in their tracks. Abbey’s head smashed against the floorboards, wrenching her neck at an alarming angle. The excruciating pain made her cry out.

  She couldn’t see him, but Scotty Pepper laughed at her like a madman. Razor-sharp fear slashed at her composure. She started to cry but forced herself to stop. Her best chance was not to panic.

  She knew Scotty Pepper had taken a long time to kill Mrs. Milbourne. He’d driven her all the way across the White Mountains. She had time. She just needed to control her fear until she could escape, or her Uncle Cal found her. Once he discovered she’d snuck out, he’d know where she’d gone. He’d find Jesse. Jesse would tell him what had happened. So long as he was alive. She just needed to stall for time or find an opportunity to kill him.

  She could feel the screwdriver digging into her side. The fool hadn’t checked her for weapons. She had the Stanley knife, too. What kind of soldier was he? As soon as he freed her hands, she’d kill him for her mother. For her sister. For her father. And for Jesse.

  The anger started to build, making her stronger and tamping down her fear. She’d kill him. She’d find a way. And it would be all over. Her father would be free. They’d all be free.

  Assessing her physical condition was difficult. Her body ached and her muscles burned. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious or trussed up like a freaking pork roast, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own or run right away. Her goal was to pretend to be weaker than she was—to slow him down until her muscles recovered. That’s when she’d take him by surprise, stab him with the screwdriver and make a run for it. She’d managed to get away from him in the woods. She could do it again.

  The truck’s gears ground into reverse and the tires squealed as he revved the engine. The truck lurched violently and broke free with a loud crunch of metal. Continuing at a slower pace, Abbey could feel that they were traveling over uneven terrain. Seconds later, they stopped.

  This is it, she thought. This was where he planned to kill her, but she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. If she couldn’t kill him, she’d make sure she left evidence. There would be no mistake this time. Unlike with her mother, they’d know who had killed her. This time they’d get it right. Uncle Cal would make sure.

  The truck light shone as he opened the door, penetrating the darkness of the footwell. She heard him take the keys with him as he climbed out.

  Desperate to escape, she strained against her bindings to see how tight they were. There was no give in her hands, but her feet shifted. They were not bound, just wedged between the door and seat. Every cell in her body screamed for her to make a break for it, but she fought the urge. No way would she be able to outrun him in her present condition, even if she managed to get out of the truck before he walked around to her side. She had to free her hands so she could grab the screwdriver. She waited, fear slippery in her stomach. She didn’t have to wait long. He opened her door and gave her ankles a vicious yank to drag her out of the truck.

  As her body twisted, she pretended she’d fainted so she could slow him d
own, but the rubber floor mat snagged her right pinkie. It snapped. She screamed out in pain, but it elicited no sympathy.

  He tugged harder, wrenching her from the vehicle. Her head hit the running board with a loud thump before she slammed down onto the ground. She cried out again. She couldn’t help it.

  Searing pain pierced her side and a bitter wave of nausea swept up her throat. She swallowed it back down and realized with a sinking feeling she wouldn’t be able to hold out for long.

  He grabbed her arm and jerked her to her feet. She swayed and started to black out, but he slapped her hard across the face. Her eyes opened wide as she smelled gasoline. It clung to her cheek like an evil omen, warning her of what was to come or of what had already happened. Panic churned through her again. She’d been unconscious. What had he done to Jesse? Had he set fire to him?

  Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away. No time for weakness. She had to get help for Jesse. Glancing around, she expected to find herself in the woods but was surprised to see a house with a porch light on.

  The man grabbed her by the throat and dragged her across the grass, up the front steps of the house and kicked in the door. It crashed open. He shoved her inside. She hit the wall and crumpled to a heap on the floor. Moaning, she curled up into a protective ball. He stepped in and turned on the lights.

  “Stop sniveling,” the man snarled. “You shouldn’t have been spying on me.”

  His voice sounded muffled. For the first time, Abbey had an opportunity to look up at him and wished she hadn’t. A shudder ran through her at the sight of the man in the ski mask. His bulk filled the doorframe. She shrank back, using the heels of her sneakers to scoot away from him as far and as fast as she could.

  He followed her into the house and bent down to grab her. As he did, she spotted a massive, stuffed grizzly bear wearing a pink tutu.

  That was all she had time to think before he grabbed her arm and started dragging her across the floor. The duct tape bit into her wrists and the tendons in her shoulders burned from the strain. She had to get free now before he locked her up. Or did something worse. The front door was still wide open. She thrashed around to see where he was taking her. It appeared to be the basement stairs. Her one—and probably only—chance had come. She just needed to get to her feet, but he was moving too fast. Desperate to stand, she rotated her body away from him and hooked her leg between the legs of the giant bear.

 

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