Justice Overdue: A Private Investigator Mystery Series (22 page)

Sunday, 7:01 AM

JAKE STOPPED AND sank down beside a tree, his head in his hands. He was no closer to finding Annie than he was the night before. The cabin he so desperately sought had evaded him and his hopes faded.

He was in the middle of the wilderness, Annie was missing, and the boys were hidden in an insecure spot. They faced an unknown enemy and he had lost control of the situation. His usual optimism was consumed.

He felt he had no choice but to return to the boys and wait for Andy Fletcher to come back. The warden knew where the cabin was, knew the owner, and he was the best chance they had now.

Reluctantly, he made his way back to the cave where he left the boys. He crouched down and looked in. They were gone.

His attention was caught by a scratching in the dirt outside the entranceway—words, “Back soon. Don’t worry.”

He stood and looked thoughtfully around, wondering where they might have gone. He had fully expected them to stay where he left them, but now they had wandered off—or had they? If they ran into foul play from an intruder, Matty wouldn’t have left a note. A least, not likely.

He felt satisfied they’d left on their own accord. The boys wouldn’t leave without a reason. Though his son said nothing, Jake was certain Matty was aware of something sinister taking place. And whatever was taking place, now that they were out in the open, he worried they might be exposed to danger. He now feared for the boys as well as for Annie.

He checked out both campsites in hopes they’d gone looking for food or drinks. Finding no indication where they might be, he went back to the cave, ducked inside, and reluctantly waited.

~~*~~

MATTY SCRAMBLED up a grade, stood on the top of the ridge, and looked ahead. “Yes,” he shouted. “There it is. There’s the cabin.”

Kyle made it to the top and stood beside Matty, peering in the direction his friend pointed.

“Do you see it?” Matty asked. “I can make it out through the trees.”

“I think so.”

“Let’s go.” Matty went ahead, stopped after a few steps, turned to Kyle and raised a finger. “We need to be quiet in case someone’s there.”

Kyle nodded and followed. They dodged behind trees and bushes, making their way to the edge of the clearing surrounding the cabin.

“We’ll circle around first,” Matty said. “Just in case somebody’s outside.”

They stepped back into the trees, and staying out of sight as much as possible, they skirted around the building, returning to their starting point.

“The windows are all covered,” Kyle said.

“Yeah, I noticed that. They weren’t like that before. Somebody lives here?”

“Do you think he’s inside?” Kyle asked. “I don’t think he would cover the windows if he was.”

Matty scratched his head. “I think you’re right, but did you notice the padlocks on the shutters? He’s trying to keep intruders out.”

“Maybe he went on a holiday.”

Matty chuckled. “I don’t think so. This place is a holiday. You don’t go on a holiday from a holiday.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

“He might be out hunting.” Matty took a step forward. “Let’s go take a look.”

They eased toward the building and Matty pointed. “Look, the front door is padlocked too.”

“So there’s definitely nobody there.”

“I guess not.”

Kyle dropped his hands on his hips and cocked his head at Matty. “Now what?”

Matty thought a moment. “We should probably go back to the cave and wait for Dad. He said he’d be back soon.”

“He might be mad at us,” Kyle whispered.

“Don’t worry. He’ll get over it when he finds out about this place.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Matty turned to leave then stopped suddenly and held up a hand. “Shhh. Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“A banging. I heard something banging.” Matty turned back and frowned at the cabin. “Somebody’s inside.”

“I don’t hear it.”

“It stopped,” Matty said, and hurried forward. “Come on.”

He reached the door, tightened his fist around the padlock, and tugged. It was locked securely. He stood back, unsure what to do.

“Maybe we should knock,” Kyle said.

Matty thought about that. “But what if somebody bad is in there?”

“I guess we just tell him we’re lost. If he looks dangerous then we run away.”

“It might be my mom in there,” Matty said. “She’s missing and you know she’s a private detective and always seems to get in some trouble.”

“Ok,” Kyle whispered. “You knock.”

Matty stepped forward, took a deep breath and rapped on the thick wooden door. Kyle backed up a couple of steps and appeared ready to run at a moment’s notice.

There was no indication anyone had heard the knock.

“Knock again,” Kyle said.

Matty knocked again and heard a muffled voice. “Hello.”

“Mom,” he shouted.

“Matty?”

“Yes, it’s me and Kyle, but the door’s locked with a padlock.”

“Can you break the lock?”

Matty leaned and peered at the padlock. “Maybe, but it’s a thick one. It looks pretty strong.”

“Where’s your father?”

“He’s … I’m not sure. He’s looking for you but he’s not here.”

There was silence from inside the building for a few moments.

“Mom. Are you still there?” Matty asked.

“I’m still here. I think you’d best go and find your father. I’ll be all right until you get back.”

Matty didn’t want to leave his mother. He was terrified the owner might come back, but horrified at what might happen to his mother. He bit his lip, stepped back from the door and looked around in desperation. He needed something to break the lock. He found a fallen tree branch, but it was rotting and would never do.

Kyle had found a log, a little bit sturdier, and he handed it to Matty and whispered, “Try this.”

Matty had doubts, but he wrapped his hands around the end and swung at the lock. Nothing happened. He hammered again and again until his fingers were numb, but the stubborn lock held firm.

“We have to get your dad,” Kyle said.

Matty nodded reluctantly. “I think you’re right.”

He stood still a couple of minutes and stared at the lock, frustrated and unsure what to do.

“Someone’s coming,” Kyle whispered.

Matty spun around and listened to the distinct sounds of something treading on leaves and branches. They had to get out of there—fast. He grabbed Kyle by the shirt and tugged at him.

Kyle didn’t need further encouragement. He tore behind Matty, across the front of the building, up the side, and into the forest.

Matty glanced over his shoulder as they ran. A man was coming from the trees at the far side of the house. He didn’t wait around for a clearer look. They dashed away as fast as they could, tearing through the forest.

When they were a safe distance away, Matty stopped short, Kyle almost barreling into him.

“We’re safe now,” he said. “But we have to find my father.” He turned sharply and jogged through the trees. He was certain he knew the way back now. He needed to find his dad, or somebody else he could trust, and then they would return and free his mother.

Chapter 48

Sunday, 7:20 AM

HOLLY CHURCHILL had enjoyed her bath in the stream a couple of days prior and had decided to look for the magic spot again and freshen herself. She had savored the invigorating water for almost an hour before she reluctantly stepped from the pool, dressed, and headed back to camp.

This was the last day of their excursion and they would be packing up to leave soon. She felt energized after a night’s sleep and early morning bath, and looked forward to going home. It’s not that she didn’t have an enjoyable weekend, but her companions left a lot to be desired.

As she neared their campsite and dipped over a knoll, she was startled by a bone-chilling sight. A body lay face down in the dirt, and even though half hidden behind a rotting tree, she recognized who it was. It was Rosie.

Even without a closer look, it was obvious Rosie was dead. Blood had spread from her severed throat and snaked across the dirt in a dark-red stream. Holly could see the face—the once pretty face, turned to the side, now utterly lifeless.

She stood paralyzed, her heart pounding against her ribs, unable to breathe for a few moments. Then she drew a quick breath, then another, hyperventilating, and crumpled to the ground, her legs too weak to sustain her.

She tried to call for help but her voice failed. Finally, she struggled to her hands and knees, closed her eyes, and tried to clear her mind.

She recalled how Jake Lincoln had warned them the day before. She’d been fearful, but had only half believed there was any danger. But this was Rosie—poor Rosie—the one who’d mocked Jake, and waved off his warning.

The girl didn’t deserve this. No one deserves this, and it took a few minutes for the horrible truth to penetrate.

Rosie—flirtatious, foolhardy, and carefree Rosie—was dead.

Eventually, she managed to stand. She shuddered violently and turned her back on the scene. She had to warn the others before it was too late.

She approached the camp cautiously in case the murderer still lurked close by, waiting, waiting for another victim.

With a breath of relief she saw Thad and Billy were there, safe, standing by one of the tents, laughing and talking casually. For a moment, she feared they might be the killer, or killers. Perhaps she was safer to make a run for it. She brushed the idea aside. They weren’t killers. A bit annoying, yes, but killers?

She stumbled a few more steps, tripped over a root, and almost fell to the ground. She regained her balance and staggered toward them.

“Whoa,” the red-headed boy said, taking her arm to steady her. “What’s going on, Holly?”

“It … it’s Rosie. She’s dead, Thad.”

Thad looked at Billy, then back at Holly and frowned. “What’re you talking about?”

Holly pointed in the direction of her dreadful discovery. “Back there. Somebody … killed Rosie. She’s dead.”

Billy pushed back his baseball cap and leaned in toward her. “Show us,” he said, unbelief in his voice.

“I … I don’t want to go back there.”

“Then just show us where she is,” Thad said.

Holly looked behind her, hesitated, and then turned slowly and headed toward the forest. She beckoned with a hand. “This way.”

She wanted to run the other way but felt safer with Thad and Billy, so she led the way into the trees. When she got near the ghastly scene, she stopped and pointed. “Just over there.” She could make out a foot—Rosie’s foot.

Billy went ahead, easing up to the scene, and Thad followed. She heard them talking as they crept up to Rosie’s body. Thad stopped a few feet back but Billy went on.

“Is that Rosie?” Thad called.

Billy answered without taking his eyes off the body. “Sure is.”

“Is she dead?”

“Yup. Sure looks that way.” Billy crouched down for a closer look then turned and waved Thad over. “Come and see.”

“No thanks. I’ve seen enough,” Thad said. He turned back and stood beside Holly, watching Billy curiously.

Finally, Billy stood and joined them. “It’s pretty gruesome. Her head is almost halfway off. Looks like he used a knife.”

“We’d better get out of here,” Holly said, still trembling. “The killer might be lurking around.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I wouldn’t want to end up looking like that.”

Holly turned and scurried back to the site, the boys jogging behind.

“Leave the tents,” Chad said. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Wait,” Holly said. “I need to get something.” She went into the tent she’d shared with Rosie. The dead girl’s backpack lay near her sleeping bag. She would have to leave it there. It would be too much for her to lug back and would only slow her down.

She grabbed her own backpack, gathered up some of her loose items that were spread around, stuffed them into the pack, and stepped from the tent. She looked around in dismay. Billy and Chad had already left, gone, and abandoned her.

She was miles from the main road and unsure which way was the correct route to safety. She hadn’t paid much attention when they hiked here, trusting the guys knew where they were going. She could easily get lost if she headed out in the wrong direction. She berated herself for being so mindless. She stood still, distressed and fearful, trying to get her bearings.

One thing was for sure, she couldn’t stay here.

She slung her backpack over her shoulder and hurried along the beach. If the Lincolns were still around, she would ask if they would let her stay with them, and maybe they would give her a lift back to town.

She hurried around the beach, shaking at everything that moved, every tree that rustled by the breeze, and every small creature of nature that played among the trees. She was ever fearful the killer was behind her. Or maybe he was ahead. She didn’t know who to trust. Even Jake might be the killer, but she had to do something.

“Holly?”

She stopped short and spun around, unsure who called her name.

“Holly. Here, in the cave.”

She turned toward the sound in time to see Jake duck out. He looked at her curiously. “Are you all right?”

She studied him carefully. He seemed sincere, concerned. Could she trust him?

“It’s Rosie,” she answered carefully.

“What about her?”

She looked him straight in the eye, watching for his reaction. “She’s dead.”

“Dead? How? What?”

“Somebody killed her,” Holly answered, looking instinctively back toward the camp she’d just left. Suddenly, the tears came. She dropped her head and sobbed hysterically. She felt his arms around her, patting her hair, comforting her, soothing her as she shook uncontrollably.

Eventually, her sobs diminished and he stepped back, leaned over, and held her by the shoulders. “Where is she?” he asked.

Holly wiped at her cheek and motioned down the beach. “She’s back there, near our camp.”

“And where are the guys you were with?”