by JM Addison
*
She had little choice but to go with him. As they rode in silence together in his car, she felt stretched in all directions at once. Terror of her mother’s killers, apprehension at being “captured” by the police on the suspicion of murder, rage at whoever was really responsible, guilt for leading these people to her innocent mother and almost incomprehensible sadness over her loss. She couldn’t even make funeral arrangements. Doing so would expose her to capture and she too desperately wanted revenge on whoever was responsible. At this moment, for the first time in her life, she thought that she could actually kill someone. Particularly the rotten bastards that twice tried to abduct her in as many days.
She glanced over at the cop she was riding with and wondered what was running through his mind. Would he turn her in? Did he too believe she was somehow responsible? A murder suspect in her mother’s killing?And what happened to him when he came up last night? Obviously, he took a beating from the look at the remaining evidence of his blow to the head. She had to force herself to communicate with him to find out the answers to these immediate questions.
She looked away from him and talking to the side window of the car she said, “What are they doing about my mother’s remains?”
He glanced at her and considered her obvious standoffish body language. He just gave her the plain facts, “Since there is an ongoing murder investigation, she would normally be kept by the county coroner. As soon as you are able to make the necessary arrangements, you can work directly with them to have her remains released to the undertaker.”
“As soon as I can?!” she spat through tightened lips. “Since the police think I’m the guilty one, I don’t think that’s likely to happen very ‘soon’ at all!” If her eyes could emit lightning bolts, he would have been severely burned.
Not knowing how to respond, he simply did nothing. She immediately felt a little bad for being so sharp with him. Right now, she actually needed his support, so she made a meek apology.
After a few moments she asked, “How did you get hurt?”
“I drove up to check on you last night because no one was answering the phone. I saw a bunch of tire ruts through the back yard and broken glass in the driveway. I got suspicious and jimmied the lock on the back entry door. I walked in, flipped on the lights and… well, somebody waiting inside cracked me good in the head.” After a pause, he added, “The police suspect it was you, you know.”
She was gripped in a momentary vise of embarrassment. Apparently he was going out of his way for her. He didn’t have to drive all the way up to simply ‘check up’ on her. He wasn’t pressuring her with a million questions. In fact, he was being surprisingly patient. She decided he was deserving a little less blame and a little more respect than she had been giving him.
She said, “I suppose you want to know my story of what happened.”
“I figure you’ll tell me. I know that this has been quite a shock for you to take in and I understand your need to kind of ‘sort things out’. I must tell you though, I do not believe the accusations against you.” He didn’t explain his reasons reaching this conclusion were because of the surreptitious and seemingly corrupt activity to get him to drop the case and the fact that the previous missing persons case from several months ago was swept under the rug too. Stealing his ID when he was knocked out and then going through political channels to have him removed from the investigation was a bold move that indicated a surprisingly powerful and influential adversary. Obviously, someone was doing a superb job of getting both Mara and the police out of the way. Just think, they could make the accusation that she did away with her brother, killed her mother and even assaulted a police officer. That was quite a lot of keeping someone out of the way.
She appreciated his patience and began her story, “When I got to the house late yesterday afternoon, they were waiting for me. I barely escaped by driving through the field…” She related the events, the fact that they smacked their car up, she escaped into the night and hid in Sally’s barn.
After she finished, Dell related how there was only her car in the back field. That they must have somehow retrieved their car during the night before the police arrived in the morning. After a moment, he somberly related the fact that her mother’s body was discovered inside her damaged car by the police as they traced the activity of the tire tracks to the old stone wall.
He wanted more information. “I’m interested in some of the details. Was it the same guys that were at your apartment the other night? Did they say anything to each other? Anything at all could be important. What about the car? Any details that might help an investigation?” After asking these questions, he thought to himself, ‘what’s the use?’ he was off the case. Who knows, he might even be suspended by the time he got back to the station. He didn’t know if he had enough resources to investigate this on his own if he couldn’t act with police authority.
She described their car. Large, nondescript, American. She again described how she recognized the man that spoke to her and assaulted her as the same man who got his hand slammed in the car door the other night. How she saw her moment to make a break for it and them smashing her window. She tried to remember some of the details of the conversation she overheard as she lay on the ground, cowering just on the other side of the old stone wall after their car smashed into it.
“They were talking about getting equipment up here for a search,” she said.
“Equipment?”
“Yeah, they said something about night gear and more help.”
“Night gear? Wow! these guys are really getting desperate. Sounds like they have the resources too.”
“I remember a couple of names, the one guy was telling the other guy to get a hold of someone named ‘Sonner’. He also said that another guy, maybe sounded like ‘Ed’ or even ‘Red’, needed to be told that they lost me again. Come to think of it, that was the name of the person they talked about on the phone that night outside my place when I was trapped by the fence! Remember? I mentioned to you before. It was ‘Red’”
“Well that’s a start, but without full names, it’s going to be tough. I can check with some of the Bedford locals to see if those names mean anything to anyone. What about a license tag on the car?”
“No, sorry.” Her head snapped in his direction as she exclaimed, “Oh my gosh! I almost forgot! I went into the office yesterday. I was having my past, deleted e-mails restored by our information services department and yesterday was the only day they would be available before automatically being deleted again. You are not going to believe this, but in those messages, was an e-mail from Chris. He used some sort of anonymous mail delivery service to get a message to me. I’m not sure why, but probably to make the communication harder to track back to him or harder to trace to me.”
She sort of checked herself after revealing this much. Was this the right person to be telling this too? Would Dell do anything helpful with the information?
He looked at her and said, “Well? What did the message say!”
She paused, hesitant to show her cards to someone that she did not fully trust. She already went this far, she figured she might as well tell all. “It was a short message, in fact I printed it out and stuffed into my purse earlier.” She rummaged through her still damp purse and retrieved the message. “It’s pretty cryptic. All it says is something about ‘The Tomb of Rivest’ being discovered at Viiradium.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, I know it’s not much, but at least it shows a definite tie with Viiradium. He ended the message with ‘they know I’m here…’. He also went through extraordinary means to get the message to me. So, that implies some guilt, at least to me, on the part of Viiradium. If I only knew what he was trying to tell me, then we would know where to go next.”
As they rode along, she wondered where she would go. She still needed a car, she needed a place to stay. A car she would have to rent. For that matter, rent the place to stay too. Her place and
Chris’s place were too dangerous. And she could not trust Will at all. The growing implication was that Will knew a lot more about this than he indicated. How else did they know that she would be at her mother’s yesterday!
“I need to stop by my place.” Mara said.
“Are you nuts? After all that’s happened? They were using night gear to try to find you. They think you know something and they don’t want it going any further. They’ve killed your mother and they wouldn’t hesitate to kill you! Why do you need to go home?”
“I just wanted to pick up a few things. Some clothes, personal things and paperwork. I need to get my car insurance info so I can call and get them to authorize a rental for me. I need to get to the bank for more cash, get to a phone to make some calls…”
He was amazed how clearly she was able to think at a time like this. She must be on some sort of emotional overdrive. “I’ll tell you what.” He began, “I’ll drop you off where it’s safe and run over to your place and pick up whatever you need. I’ll make sure I’m not followed and get everything back to you.”
At first, she wasn’t too keen on the idea of some guy rummaging through her things. What was absolutely necessary? Just some clothes and her file box. He could stuff everything into a duffel and be out in a couple of minutes. She realized she had little choice at the moment. He was right about it being too dangerous to go there herself.
“What did you have in mind when you said you were going to drop me off where it’s ‘safe’?”
“We’ll just swing by my place. I should only be gone for 25 minutes or so. You can use my phone while I get your things. In fact if you want you can just stay at my place for a few days. I’ve got a pull out to sleep on.”
He surprised himself. What was he thinking? She was a suspect! A witness! He couldn’t make such an invitation to a person involved in a case. But… he felt so bad for her. She seemed so small and helpless. He was the one that even suggested her mother’s place to begin with and he was the one who didn’t show up until it was too late. The least he could do was help her. He wanted to get to the bottom of this case somehow, it was just going to be a little tough now that he was officially off the case.
Mara started to resist the whole thing. “I don’t know about this…” she protested. She wasn’t completely sure she could really trust anyone, even him. Staying at his place was really out of the question.
Dell responded, “Why don’t I drop you off there, and you can think about it while I go fetch what you need from your place.”
They were getting close to Bedford and she had to do something. “OK… just for now though . I’m not staying the night.”
The remainder of the ride was made in silence. As they approached Dell’s street, he glanced over at Mara and saw tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked them back, trying not to make them obvious. He felt bad. First getting slapped around, then to spend the night in the woods, then finding out your mother was killed and finally learning you were the prime suspect. Whoever they were, they were doing a bang up job destroying the lives of the Chandler family.
“I’m going to drop you off here and then go get your things and bring them back for you. Then I want to run down to the station and work on clearing your name from all this. There must be evidence at the scene to support your side of the story. I’ll do what I can.
“Oh, this is Great” Mara thought to herself, “my mother’s house is now considered a ‘scene’.”
They parked in the drive of a rather large house. Dell explained, “It’s not mine, I only have the apartment around back.” They entered the apartment which Mara was surprised to find was well designed and quite a likable place. A combined kitchen, eating and living area. The living room had a high ceiling. The small kitchen and eating area were tucked under an upper loft which must contain the bedroom and bath areas. A stairway led up to the loft which overlooked the living room below. Small, but very thoughtfully laid out. For an unmarried man, he seemed surprisingly neat too. Almost fastidious. Decorations were sparse and tended to be quite modern, with the furniture and drapery being mostly light colors. A large built-in bookshelf area contained not only books, but a portion was made to act as home office with a work surface complete with computer monitor, keyboard and mouse.
Dell explained that he had to take a quick shower and if she needed to use the bathroom, go ahead before he occupied it.
While he showered, she sat down to consider her next moves. She needed a more permanent place to stay. Somewhere she could feel completely safe. She would need cash. Using credit might not be safe. Not only was she pursued by killers, but the police were looking for her as well. That was going to make renting a car difficult. They usually would not rent without a credit card. She would need to find transport somehow.
Next she had to do some investigating. She had to find out more about the details of Viiradium’s products. How did they work, who were the main customers. How could she find out the meaning of Chris’ cryptically coded message? It seemed like an archaeological clue, but Viiradium had nothing to do with archaeology, so there had to be a hidden meaning. Perhaps someone at a competitor of Viiradium’s would be able to shed some light.
She found a scrap of paper and wrote down the things she needed. She dumped her purse on the kitchen table to take an inventory. A solitary Visa card. Slightly damp set of checkbook refills for her now closed out checking account. A few temporary checks for her new account so she should be able to get money from the bank. Her keys she managed to somehow grab as she left her crumpled car. The wrinkled, printed e-mail from Chris. A few makeup items she grabbed in haste as she left her apartment yesterday. The temporary security card she had made for herself to get back into the office. And lastly, the business card she had in her pocket earlier with the Bedford Police symbol and Dell’s name and office number.
Dell came padding down the stairs looking refreshed. He had very short brown hair, so he couldn’t really hide the wound on his head from last night, but it didn’t look too bad. She found herself gazing a little longer than she should and self-consciously turned away when he noticed. By comparison, she wondered how bad she looked. Her face was still pretty tender and she had a lot of cuts and scratches, some from glass, some from the woods.
“You’re going to have a tough time renting a car,” Dell said. “I was hoping you might just stay here to lay low for a while.”
“I appreciate your concern and your offer, but I simply can’t.” She didn’t quite know what to say. She can’t because she couldn’t fully trust him? She can’t because she didn’t normally stay the night in a strange man’s apartment? She decided not to say anything at all.
“Where will you stay then?” Dell asked.
“I’ll find a room to rent for awhile.”
“That’s going to cost you some…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, if you feel you must go, I have a car you can borrow, I don’t think you will find success at the car rental company. If they rent you a car, the police will be on to you. With the apparent resources of our adversaries, they may be watching for a car rental too.”
She found it curious that he would refer to ‘our’ adversary. Could there be more that he wasn’t revealing? At least he seemed willing to help a poor innocent fugitive, at least for now. Perhaps he really did believe in her innocence and that she was being set up. “It’s an old sports car, pretty temperamental, but it will get you where you need to go. Can you drive a stick?”
This was generous and would solve the immediate problem. “Are you sure it’s OK? I don’t want to take advantage…”
“Take advantage?” he interrupted. “You are wanted by the police. You are wanted, dead or alive, by a band of serious killers. Do you realize the danger you are in? You have no ties to a borrowed car, so you’ll be less conspicuous.”
She had to agree this was again, the only logical choice she had at the moment. Of course he would be one that d
id know about the car being loaned so there had to be an even deeper investment in his trust now. This made her uncomfortable. “OK. Thanks. I really appreciate your help.” This feeling of being completely helpless was getting old. The other day, she depended on Will. She depended on Sally this morning and now she depended on Dell. She didn’t like it at all. She was used to being independent. She considered herself even a little tough. She didn’t feel so tough now.
She gave him the scrap of paper with the list she made along with the key. She explained where to find things and felt herself flush a little when she described the location of her clothes. She wasn’t too keen on someone pawing through her underwear, but, they were just clothes.
He left with the promise of returning in no more than forty minutes. Her place wasn’t that far from here. He instructed her to stay put, don’t answer the phone, unless it was his cell phone caller ID on the display, then she could pick it up then. Then he was gone. He hadn’t yet given her the keys to his other car. She didn’t have her things. She felt a little claustrophobic. A little trapped.
She turned on the TV to distracter her and let her mind wind down a bit. Late morning TV didn’t have too much to offer as she flipped through channels. One station was playing a political add. She thought, ‘They’re starting already? Election is a year away yet!’ She was about to aim the remote at the TV once again to change channel when a somewhat familiar voice on the ad said: “As a successful businessman, I understand how to turn our state’s financial crises around. Job’s, personal safety, a strong state economy. When was the last time you felt you could trust your state to care for our needs? That’s why I’m running for Massachusetts State Governor… To make a difference in your life.”
Who was that voice? The deep professional sounding voice of the ad announcer completed the spot by saying: “Make a difference in your life. Elect Bob Danvers for Governor.”
Mara blinked in complete surprised. Chairman and Chief executive of Viiradium running for political office. Governor no less! She just switched off the TV and starred at the blank screen for a few moments. Could this have anything to do with the events she had been experiencing the past week or so? Mr. Danvers (as everyone respectfully referred to him) seemed like a good guy. Treated the company well, was visionary enough to forge into an uncertain future and reap huge rewards. He always was quick to give credit for the company success to the employees. “It’s our people that make us successful” he would often say. She didn’t notice on the ad, but figured he would probably be running as Republican or an Independent. In fact, she admired his leadership qualities enough so that she would probably even vote for him although she leaned more on the democratic side.
She got up and paced around the apartment, glancing out the window from time to time. She became electrified with apprehensions. Rather that offer a distraction, the TV only turned up the heat, so to speak. A lot more was happening than meets the eye. She had to find out what Chris knew. Whatever it was that he knew, they thought she knew and they were apparently willing to kill her to shut her up. If she could get back to his apartment or even his work area at the office, she could take a good look through his things for a clue. Both seemed out of the question now. Perhaps she could get Dell to check out the apartment. She could get to the office, but was nervous about it. If she went during the middle of a busy day, there’s not much they would be able to do. However, her security ID would make an entry in the computer logs and she would be on video as she entered the building. The other day she got in during the day with no security card. But with all of the daily activity, would anyone notice?
She thought about something to do. Perhaps another shower. Even though showering a Sally’s not long ago, she continued to ‘feel’ dirty. But she really wanted some of her clothes first. She felt funny about borrowing something of his to wear, so she waited. After what seemed like an eternity, the promised forty minutes had passed. Mara’s anxiety level began to ratchet up a notch with worry. Where was Dell? Had he run into trouble? She rummaged through the kitchen to find something to eat to keep herself occupied. After an hour and 15 minutes, she began to feel panic. Did he leave the keys someplace for the car he was loaning her? Should she get out or wait a little longer. How long? After nearly an hour and a half, he finally returned. He politely knocked first, then unlocked the door. It must seem weird to knock on your own front door.
“Sorry I’m late.” He began.
“Sorry you’re late?” she said while trying not to let her anger show through.
“Here are your things. I had no problem till I left. I’m sure I was followed, but they were professionals. I could never get a license tag number. I had to do a bit of driving around to lose them. I eventually made it over to your brother’s place and sort of “let” myself in. I wanted to get a look around and see if there was anything there we could use to help us figure this out.”
As she began to relax a little, she asked. “What did you see? Was anything worth looking at?”
“Well, I figure, someone has already searched the place. If there was anything really incriminating, they would have taken it already. I was just hoping for something that might be a clue. I actually grabbed a bunch of scattered papers that were laying near his computer and threw them in the bag too. I wasn’t sure if I was followed from Chris’, so I took precautions to lose any potential surveillance teams.”
This brought the reality of the situation back hard. They really were watching her place. They had resources to watch Chris’ place at the same time. She had to hide.
“I’m going to get into some clothes that don’t have tears in them.” She said as she took the duffel bag and turned to head for the stairs.
“Hang on just a second.” Dell said. “I want to give you these keys for the car. Starting it can be tricky. The choke doesn’t work well, so you have to ‘feather’ the gas pedal a little till she warms up.” She was a girl, so he felt he had to explain that ‘feathering’ the pedal meant giving it tiny pumps to provide enough gas but not enough air so as to keep the gas mixture from getting too lean. Once it warmed up, the gas could run more lean and away she goes. Mara thought he sounded like a weekend mechanic or something.
Dell explained he was going to the office to try to organize some sort of clandestine investigation. Since he was officially off the case, he was willing to allow a witness (and some might say ‘suspect’) to use his personal resources. This went against all training and reason, but he also felt a measure of responsibility. He knew it was simply the right thing to do. At this moment, she was helpless and more of a victim than anything else. Since she declined his invitation to stay there, he asked that she call and let him know where she eventually settled. He gave her his office number, home number and cell number. “If you need anything at all, you just call me. Do you understand?”
She nodded agreement and he was out the door. Again. She made sure it was locked and headed for the shower.
After getting cleaned up and applying a little makeup from the package Dell brought from her place, it was time to get clear and lay low for a while. She took her purse, duffel and the keys Dell left and went out to the back. Inside the leftmost garage door, she found what must have been the car he was loaning her… and her heart sank. It was a beat up sports car from what looked like the late 60’s perhaps, likely a restoration ‘project’ for a weekend mechanic. It had a convertible roof and pile of old newspapers loaded onto the lid of the trunk. There was some other materials you typically see in a garage stacked in disorganized piles behind the car that she would need to move as well. As neat as he was… she supposed this could all be landlord junk since Dell obviously was ‘collecting’ the car and not driving it.
After making a path, she got behind the wheel and turned up her nose at the musty engine and oil smell. After many tries, with the battery about to die, the little car coughed to life. She was flipping the gas pedal with her foot to coax some vitality from the engine. After it warmed up a b
it, she turned and looked through the dirty back window to make her way out of the garage. She did not have much experience driving a standard, so she sort of lurched out of the garage and stalled. The car started with relative ease and she fought with the stick to get it into first. Driving this car is going to drive me nuts, she thought to herself sardonically.
Her first destination was the bank. She wanted to convert as much as she could to cash. She could write herself a check against the amount in her checking account. She could also do a cash advance against her credit card, especially since she was nervous about someone finding her by tracing card activity. Using the card just once to get cash would be the safest way. She went to a branch of her bank by taking a circuitous route to insure she wasn’t being followed. She cashed a check for eight hundred fifty dollars and decided to leave the credit card alone for now. The next thing she wanted was sleep.
