Hopefully, Betty's folks would delay this decision. If I gave them enough to think about, we might be okay. It sounded like most of this stuff, with the exception of the growling door, happened before I had the chat with Betty. I wondered if I should talk to her again, just to be safe?
What a week this turned out to be. I started out as a beetle giving a keynote address at Druid-Con, to Betty possibly leaving town, to the murder of a celebrity, to winning a convertible only to have it destroyed mere hours later. Sure, I had times like these before, but Betty and the convertible would be serious, real losses.
I was just turning onto my street when I got a text message from an unknown caller. Of course, I pulled over to read it because I am a responsible adult.
This is Austin. I have some information that might save your little weird friend. Meet me at that quarry outside of town in five minutes.
Austin must've gotten my number from Amy. But why did he want me to meet him in the middle of nowhere? That quarry was a problem. I'd had trouble there before. However, I knew it far better than he did, which gave me the advantage.
I texted back but got no reply. I tried calling Rex and Riley, but both calls went straight to voicemail. Knowing that this could be trouble, I decided to text both of them to let them know where I was going. It's always good to have backup—even if I rarely followed that advice myself.
Steeling myself as I drove out into the country, I wondered if I shouldn't have doubled back and gotten my gun. The clock on the dashboard showed me I'd already be a minute late as it was. It may only take five minutes to get anywhere in Who's There, but it took longer to go out into the country, beyond the city limits.
The quarry had been abandoned for years and was mostly filled with water. It was a favorite swimming hole with its tiny, rocky beach, but we had to stop using it in high school when they found out that a crime syndicate in Des Moines had been dumping bodies there.
The main part of the quarry was on another road, on a hill with high, sheer walls that plunged down to the little beach. It was a dangerous place to meet, but it was also extremely isolated. My spydy senses weren't going off, which made me a bit optimistic.
How did Austin find out about this place? I suppose he'd had a lot of time to see the sights over the past week. Maybe he'd stumbled onto it. Still, I should be prepared for anything. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best is excellent advice.
Turning off onto the gravel driveway, I passed cornfields and rusted out equipment. If I had to guess, I'd think Austin would meet me in the old parking lot. No one would see us there, which was obviously what he was shooting for.
What could he have to tell me? Was it about Amy? Deliria? A thought occurred to me. Could Deliria have killed herself? I brought my hand up and pretended to plunge a knife with Stewie's saliva on it into my chest. It was possible.
Why would she consider suicide? The stalker could've driven her to it. Or she found out about Austin and Bambi. Perhaps she was depressed because her C-level stardom was fading. It could be she had some sort of terminal illness.
Would Austin tell me that? Why wouldn't he say something earlier so Stewie wouldn't be framed? Because he was a liar and a cheat, of course. Austin and Amy could very well have been right there when Deliria died. But then why wouldn't Amy have said something?
What if it was Bambi? Could we have been underestimating her all along, or was she dumb enough to commit murder to go to Cabo? It wasn't a stretch to think that. However, based on her reaction when I twisted her fingers, I didn't think that was likely. Then again, sometimes people fooled you.
Like Stewie stealing his cousin's idea. I hadn't expected that. Oh sure, I knew my druids got picked on by other kids. But they never hit back. This time, their leader did. Was he pushed too far, or was Stewie becoming good at lying to me? Maybe I should embed Betty into the Cult of NicoDerm to toughen them up.
A black SUV was parked about thirty feet from the edge. Tinted windows. Either Austin had rented it, or Riley was there already. I checked my cell, but there was no reply from either him or my husband. After getting out and walking over, I realized the car was empty.
Should I call out for Austin? Had Riley already gone off to find him? I hoped not. I wanted to know what he had to say. Deliria's husband didn't know Riley and probably wouldn't tell him anything—or me for that matter if he thought I'd set him up.
I waited for a few minutes for Austin to see me and decide I was alone and come out of hiding. He was either in the cornfields that surrounded the lot, in the old office trailer that sat on the edge of the cliff, or maybe he'd fallen into the quarry itself.
That got me moving. If you didn't know anything about a quarry, you might be tempted to go to the edge and look down. But the gravel edge around the pit could be unstable, and it wouldn't take much to fall in.
When I got within a couple of feet of the edge, I got down on my hands and knees and crawled to the precipice. Then I looked down. A little bit of gravel tumbled over the edge, and I watched as the rocks fell to the depths far below.
I got up onto my knees when I was aware of movement. The SUV was rolling toward me. I couldn't see a driver. Had Austin put it in neutral? There wasn't much time to think. I rolled to the side after taking a glancing blow from the bumper. Then the SUV went over the edge and dropped. It landed with a sickening crash below.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement in the trailer. The blinds in the window twitched. I was on my feet and running past some old, broken down equipment, including a tractor and an enormous dump truck.
Once I got to the trailer, I stood flush against the wall, next to the door. Reaching out, I turned the knob and shoved open the door. But I didn't go in. Not just yet. When there was no gunfire or knives thrown, I dropped to the ground and, from that low position, peeked inside.
A desk loomed over me in the murky darkness. I crawled inside and got to my feet. No one shot at me. That was good. There didn't appear to be anyone inside. A squeak caught my attention, and I spotted a small mouse, scratching at the window. That must've been what I'd seen.
I was just about to turn toward the door when something struck the outside of the trailer. I fell to the floor but regained my senses quickly. It took only seconds to get to my feet, but that gave whatever hit the trailer time to back up and strike again. With the second impact, I stayed on my feet, but the building moved.
That wasn't good. Something, probably one of the pieces of equipment I thought dormant, was smashing into the building. I looked to the door, but it had swung shut and was jammed. The doorframe had bent with the second impact, and the door was going nowhere.
I ran to the window and ripped down the blinds. The glass window was small, but I figured I could squeeze through it. Unfortunately, it was sealed tightly. A third crash shook the trailer, and it moved even closer to the edge of the cliff. Looking around, I found a tiny television. Lifting it up, I threw it at the window. Since it was plugged in, it didn't make it, crashing on the floor just shy of its target.
Meanwhile, a fourth crash pushed the building to the edge, and I saw the end of the building sag as gravity pulled it down. Yanking the cord from the wall, I threw the TV, and this time, it went through the window. Grabbing a large flashlight from the desk, I knocked out the jagged glass around the edges. There was no point in slashing a wrist or neck accidentally.
My efforts toward safety stole precious seconds as the building was struck again. This time, half of the trailer sagged toward the bottom of the quarry. There wasn't any time to waste, and I grabbed the window frame, glass cutting into my palms, and pulled myself through and dove onto the ground, just as the final blow struck the building.
The trailer went over the edge and crashed into the bottom below. I got to my feet and ran for the large dump truck, which was now idling where it had struck the building. Climbing up on the driver's side, I ripped open the door to find it empty. Jumping to the ground, I ran around to the back of the truck. It took me some effort to climb up over the bed, but there was no one hiding in there.
That's when I noticed my van, driving away down the road before the corn swallowed it up.
Back on the ground, I picked glass out of my palms before wiping my hands on my jeans. The damage was superficial, and I wasn't in any danger. I took a moment to catch my breath before taking my cell out of my back pocket. The screen was cracked, but it still worked. There was a message from Rex saying he was on his way and had contacted the sheriff.
I walked over to a large stone and sat down on it to wait. This was the third time I'd been attacked. Why was someone trying to kill me, specifically? So many people were working together on this case, it didn't make sense. Unless, the attacker thought it was just me and I had information that would hurt them.
Rex arrived minutes later, followed by Sheriff Carnack and Riley. My husband kept a first aid kit in his car, so he cleaned and dressed my wounds.
"They're not bad," he said. "But you should see if you need a tetanus shot." Then he did something he never did in public and took me into his arms.
His heart was beating fast, despite his calm demeanor. I didn't usually go for falling apart, but I leaned into him to regain my composure. When I pulled away, I saw that Carnack and Riley were standing on the edge of the quarry, looking at the building and car below.
For a second I panicked and almost shouted for them to step away. But they knew what they were doing. I could still feel the shocks from the trailer taking hit after hit. I took a deep breath.
"Are you alright?" Rex's eyes searched mine.
"I think so. Did you find my van?"
"Troy and Kevin are looking for it," Rex said. "Besides your purse, did you have your gun in it?" He looked concerned that my gun might be in the hands of a killer. I understood. Kevin had recently lost his gun, and it had caused all kinds of problems in the department until a little old lady returned it, saying it was sticking out of her flowerbed.
"If I'd had a gun in the car, I would have it with me," I said.
"That's good." Rex squeezed. "Anything else of value that would be in there?"
I shook my head before it hit me. "The copy of the contract! Claire sent it over, and I put the envelope in my purse!"
Riley joined us. "No problem. If Claire doesn't have another copy, we'll just get it from Blue Zombie Productions. The important thing is that you're okay."
"It was a pretty creative way to try to kill me," I admitted. "First the SUV, and then the trailer."
Rex looked at the dump truck. "I'm surprised that worked. My guess is the killer thought the SUV would work and, when it didn't, gave the truck a shot and took off in your van." He looked at his cell when it rang. "I've got to take this."
Rex stepped away and answered his phone.
"That's twice I've come to your rescue, only to find you're okay." Sheriff Carnack grinned.
I gave Riley my cell and asked him to check out the number Austin had called me from. My hands were a little unsteady from almost being thrown off a cliff…twice.
"Thanks Ed," I said to the sheriff. "I think I need to move to someplace where there aren't any murders. I'm getting too old for this."
He laughed. "When you find that place, let me know. This county became a lot more dangerous when you moved here."
The sheriff walked away as Rex returned. "That's odd. Officer Dooley checked our house for your van. He said something about 'they always go home first.' To my surprise, but not his, the van was parked in the driveway."
"Kevin was right?" I rubbed my right shoulder, which had hit the floor first in the trailer.
Rex nodded. "Troy's heading over there with forensics to see if there are any prints."
"How did Austin know where I live?" I wondered. "He must've found out that you're my husband and looked it up."
"We're literally in the phone book." Rex shrugged. "It would not be hard to find that. Betty could do it."
"Betty," I said, "would've figured that out in first grade. Wait, there are still phone books?"
"We're requesting an interview at the station with Sherman," Rex said. "He gave you the convertible, and then you were attacked immediately after. He could've lured you out here. He'd know more about this place than Austin. And he'd know where you live."
That was a good point. The quarry was on the way to Kennedy's Landing.
Riley came over. "The number is untraceable, and no one answered."
"Could be a burner phone Austin used for Bambi," I suggested. "He really didn't think Deliria knew about them."
Sheriff Ed's eyebrows went up. "I'm going to get a team down to the beach to get the plates off that SUV. I'll let you know what I find out."
"I'm taking you to the hospital to get checked out," Rex insisted.
I agreed. I didn't like having my hands torn up. How could I teach knots to the girls if my hands were damaged? I still hadn't taught them the Bolivian Black Widow Knot, which works really well when interrogating someone, and it had the added benefit of being a good hitching knot for a canoe.
"I'll fill you in, Sheriff," Riley offered.
I got into the car, and we headed to the hospital in silence. It was reassuring, but I knew he wasn't happy with me going to the quarry alone.
"It's good that you texted me," Rex finally said as we pulled into the hospital lot. "But you shouldn't have gone without me."
"I only had five minutes," I protested. "But I know you're right."
He looked at me with surprise after parking the car. "You're admitting I'm right?"
My husband got out, came around to my side, and opened my door.
"Don't let it go to your head," I mumbled as we walked into the emergency room.