Eggs Benedict Arnold (22 page)

“
And spooky,
”
added Suzanne. For some reason, most of the nearby trees appeared half dead. Maybe they
’
d drowned from encroaching swamp water, or maybe they
’
d just succumbed to Dutch elm disease or some other tree
malady. It also didn
’
t help that a sharp wind had sprung up.
Sweeping through bare, dead branches, it made them click
and clack like rattling bones.

“
Lookit the church,
”
Toni pointed out.
“
Completely fall
ing apart.
”
They moved toward the dilapidated structure,
saw that years of hard weather had stripped every speck of paint from the wood, giving the old building a sodden gray color.

“
Roof
’
s caved in, too,
”
added Suzanne, noting that the few curved beams that had once formed the roof now
looked decidedly like ribs.
“
Sad that an old church ends up
abandoned and broken down like this.
”

“
There
’
s nothing going on here,
”
said Toni.
“
If Bo Becker was seen out this way, this sure wasn
’
t one of his stops.
”

“
Maybe ... check in back?
”
asked Suzanne.

They stumbled around the side of the church through the weeds, but there was nothing out back but an old cemetery.

“
Now this is certifiably creepy,
”
said Suzanne as they
stepped tentatively between a row of gravestones.

“
These graves are really old,
”
said Toni, flashing her
light on a row of stone tablets pitted with age. Canted in all
different directions, they looked like broken teeth.
“
This one dates to the eighteen hundreds.
”

“
I wonder if the descendants still come out here?
”
mused
Suzanne.
“
To ... you know ... visit the graves?
”

“
Doubtful,
”
said Toni.
“
This whole place looks abandoned. No perpetual care here. Or sign of any relative who
’
s come to visit.
”

‘
The grass hasn
’
t even been mowed,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Kind of sad, really.
”

Toni flashed her light around again.
“
Nada,
”
she said.
“
Time to go?
”

“
Wait a minute,
”
said Suzanne. Either her eyes were playing tricks on her or she
’
d picked up a flash of some
thing.
“
Shine your light over that way again.
”
She pointed
toward a distant outcropping of trees.

Toni ran her beam across a round-topped crypt that stood maybe six feet high, then across the statue of an angel whose head had long ago been lopped off.
“
Nope,
”
she said.
“
Nothing here.
”
She kicked at something with her toe, frowned, then aimed her light downward.
“
Weird,
”
she
muttered.

“
Hm?
”
said Suzanne. She
’
d already turned to leave.

“
It
’
s like dead flowers,
”
said Toni.

“
Everything
’
s dead out here,
”
said Suzanne. She looked
back.
“
Are you coming?
”

“
No,
”
said Toni,
“
I mean, like, recently dead.
”

“
What are you talking about?
”

Toni took a step back and moved her light across the ground. There, scattered in an almost semicircle around her, were a dozen or so half-dead lilies.

“
Oh crap!
”
exclaimed Suzanne.

“
What?
”
asked Toni.
“
You think somebody
’
s been here?
”

Suzanne nodded.

Toni
’
s teeth were chattering now.
“
Are these like
...
fu
neral flowers?
”

“
I
think so,
”
said Suzanne. She gestured with her hand.
“
Gimme your flashlight.
”
Toni handed it over. Slowly, Su
zanne moved the beam across a row of gravestones, past
a cluster of wrought-iron crosses, over a waist-high tomb,
toward the very back of the cemetery. A tiny sparkle of
red seemed to taunt and glint.
“
Look there,
”
cried Suzanne.
“
Over to the left.
”
The vastness of the surrounding woods
seemed to suck up the light, but Suzanne still thought she
’
d
caught a faint illumination of red.

“
What is that?
”
asked Toni. She
’
d seen it, too.

“
Almost like a reflection from a taillight,
”
said Suzanne.

“
Holy smokes!
”
cried Toni.
“
There
’
s a car over there?
”

The two women stepped carefully through waist-high grasses, moving slowly and nervously. Finally, as they
drew closer, they were able to see the dark outline of a car
parked beneath a gnarled oak.

“
Definitely a car,
”
said Suzanne.

“
What if it
’
s Becker
’
s car?
”
asked Toni.
“
What if he ditched it here and made a switch or something? Had an
accomplice? Here, give me that light.
”
Toni took the light
and walked slowly toward the car.
“
It
’
s red,
”
she called back.
“
Mustang.
”

“
Becker
’
s,
”
said Suzanne. She reached up, pushed her hair behind her ears, listening for footsteps. For danger. Out here in the darkness, she
’
d noticed
that
her eyes and
ears seemed to play tricks on her, while the wind whipped
by and touched her with chilly tendrils.

“
We gotta call this in,
”
said Toni.
‘
This is big-time.
”
She
spun back toward Suzanne, her light tracing a circle.

“
Dear Lord!
”
Suzanne gasped suddenly, her voice tight
with fear. Toni
’
s moving flashlight had picked up a dark shape that suddenly
m
at
erialized right beside her.

“
Huh?
”
said Toni abruptly. She frowned, glanced at her friend, and aimed her light at the thing that seemed to hold
Suzanne in a grip of terror.

There, hanging from a tree limb, slowly twisting in the
wind, was a dead body.

“
Oh
my God!
”
Now Toni
’
s voice rose in a pained, horrified wail.
“
You see those black motorcycle boots? I think it
’
s . .. it
’
s
Juniorl
Oh no, somebody hanged Junior!
”
Her flashlight tumbled to the ground as Toni threw her hands over her face and let loose a high, keening howl.

“
No, no,
”
Suzanne cried, pulling herself together and scrambling for the flashlight.
“
It
’
s not him! I
’
m sure it
’
s not him!
”

Toni
’
s fingers spread apart gingerly and two dark, doubtful eyes peeked through.
“
Then who?
”
she asked in a jittery
voice.

Suzanne stea
died
herself and directed the beam up the
hanging body, moving it slowly, feet to head. Finally, she
said,
“
It
’
s Bo Becker.
”

“
Get out!
”
said Toni, aghast.
“
Bo Becker hanged from a tree? Murdered?
”
Her words seemed to resonate within the both of them, and they backed up several paces. As if they
feared that Becker
’
s limp body might suddenly be injected
with life, like Frankenstein
’
s monster, to twist loose and come lurching after them.

“
This is some crazy stuff,
”
Suzanne muttered.

Toni
’
s teeth chattered loudly, from cold and fear.
“
What if he hung himself?
”
she whispered. She quickly made the sign
of the cross.
“
It
’
s a sin, you know
...
the worst sin of all!
”

Suzanne grimaced as she stu
died
the limp, swaying
body.
“
The rope was tossed over a branch maybe three feet
above his head, then stretched across to a
V
in the trunk, then...
”

The rest of her sentence was lost in the loud wail of a siren.

“
Oh cripes!
”
screeched Toni, as they were suddenly caught in the spotlights and high beams of three different vehicles that roared along the edge of the cemetery, then converged directly upon them.

The driver
’
s side door flew open on the lead vehicle and a tall, thin man jumped out, his gun pointed directly
at them. Suzanne could have sworn it was a pearl-handled
revolver.
“
Hands up!
”
he ordered.

“
Lord love a duck,
”
muttered Suzanne.
“
It
’
s Sheriff Burney.
”

Sheriff Bill Burney, head law officer of Deer County, was joined by two other deputies who were just as stone-faced and serious as he was, and aiming even more firepower at
th
em. Suzanne wasn
’
t sure if they had actually crossed official lines into his county, but Burney and his
men had obviously responded to the call about the sighting
of Becker
’
s car. Only now it wasn
’
t just the car
that
was the problem.