Chapter Thirty-Seven

Early Monday morning

The night softened and succumbed to first light. From the back seat, Vicky shook Pete’s shoulder as Mike and Sheriff Linden strode near her car, still parked near the lodge.

“Pete, Sam, wake up. The sheriff’s leaving.”

Pete mumbled and sat up behind the wheel.

Sam jerked up straight in the passenger seat. “Oh, I’m going to catch a ride. I need to get to work.”

“Just a sec.” Vicky buzzed down the rear window. “Morning, Sheriff, did you find anything new?”

Mike kept moving. Sheriff Linden stopped. “No more bodies, if that’s what you mean. Why are you still here?”

“Waiting for you.”

“I’m taking Mike to his truck, then I’m going to get some sleep.”

“We were about to do the same.” She sounded casual. “We’ll see you later.”

The sheriff walked away without responding. Mike hadn’t even paused. Vicky said, “Sam, we can drop you. Do you really need to go in today? You must be wiped out.”

Sam gave Vicky a long look before turning back in her seat. No one spoke on the drive to the diner. When they arrived, it took a moment for Vicky to realize the RV was gone. All that was left of the explosion was a blackened portion of parking lot, still cordoned off, and the lingering oily stench of melted plastic and smoke. And the stitches in Vicky’s leg.

Sam got out. “Thank God, or whoever cleaned that up. I’m ready for things to get back to normal. See you later.” She marched to the back door of her cafe.

Vicky resisted saying things were nowhere near normal, and no telling when they would be. Finding the cave both answered questions and created more. It vented some pressure but, with Rose still missing, there was plenty more building.

And now, the presence of something new and unpleasant hunched between Vicky and Pete, waited to be unleashed. No telling what kind of damage this beast would inflict if it broke free.

Pete restarted the car. “Where to?” He sounded like his usual amiable self.

Thank God. Yes. Let’s leave it alone.

“How about we go to Liz Ann’s, get cleaned up, and nap for a couple hours? Then I’m going to find that meeting about the will Mike told us about.”

“Sure.”

Neither spoke on the way to the librarian’s comfortable two-bedroom bungalow. Their host was already up and about, ready for the day. She greeted them at the door. “Where’ve you been all night? Poor things, you look exhausted. Come have pancakes. The griddle’s warm.”

She ignored their claims they weren’t hungry, and in fact they each ate a short stack as they filled her in on a few of the night’s developments. She said nothing about the fact that Vicky and Pete talked only to her, not each other, and assured them they were welcome to stay with her however long they liked.

“Thanks, Liz Ann,” said Vicky. “I wonder…I’m trying to find a legal meeting that’s scheduled for this morning. Do you know—”

“There’s only one lawyer in town. He has a big conference room in back.”

She said his office was in a brick building, conveniently located across the street from Sam’s diner. She cheerfully mentioned an amorous after-hours “de-briefing” she and the attorney had once enjoyed there. Vicky was too wiped out to think of any response.

After separate showers, a few hours of sleep. and even fewer words spoken, Pete drove Vicky to the diner. Along the way, she borrowed his phone to send a few texts.

The phone signaled an incoming message. “Go ahead,” Pete said. “It’s gotta be for you.”

Vicky read the text. “Okay, good. Sam says Don’s at the café.” She deleted her messages and put the phone in the cupholder. “Thanks. I’ll get a new phone later today or tomorrow.”

At the diner, Pete pulled over to the curb but didn’t park. “I’m going to check on the RV.”

“Okay.” Vicky squirmed her way out of the back seat behind him. She picked up a single crutch. “I think I can get by with just one of these now.”

Pete lowered his window. “You seem to be getting around pretty well.” He paused, then looked up at her. “If you’re doing okay, I’ll go ahead and take that trip south I talked about. I need some time to think. Mike said he’d take me to get a rental car before his meeting.”

Ow, what a punch to the gut. “Sure, that’s good. Or you can take my car if you want.” She didn’t trust herself to say any more.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone.” His tone was gentle, and his eyes were warm and caring. “You sure you’re okay? You’re staying with Liz Ann, right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Omigod. She wanted to fall into those gorgeous eyes and make everything better between them. Why hadn’t she been open with him? Why was she like this?

“I’ll leave your car at her house.”

“Perfect. Sounds good.” Inside, she was falling all right, falling and flailing, about to hit whatever rocky calamity lay below. Now? He was leaving now?

“I’ll come back by after I get the rental.” Pete’s head was tilted slightly upward, in good position for Vicky to give him a kiss to remember. But before she could get that far, Pete gave her a slight grin and an air kiss. “I’m blocking traffic. See you soon.” He drove away.

Well, that was a kick in the gut. She clearly had not been paying enough attention to what was going on with Pete. She didn’t deserve him. She’d never felt like this about anyone before. He was not someone to be taken for granted. She would make up for it when he came back. She was already aching at his absence by the time he turned the corner.

The diner was half empty when Vicky entered.

“Hi, Vick.” Sam pointed with her chin toward a back table. “Sara just got here. She’s with Don.”

“Perfect. Thanks.” She could watch the lawyer’s office, keep an eye on Don, and get that damn Sara to ‘fess up about what-all she’s hiding. “Have you talked with Rita?”

“Yes, she’s back at work today. Said she can’t stand sitting around.”

“Good.” Vicky asked for the bill at the same time she ordered.

She had a nervous second breakfast of coffee and a side of grits with milk, butter, and a little sugar. The first time Sam watched her do that, she joked that milk and sugar had no business on grits. Vicky didn’t care. That’s how she liked them.

Don and Sara were deep in discussion when Vicky gathered her crutch and limped toward their table. As she approached, Don said, “Joan’s never gonna back—”

Vicky smiled. “Hi, good morning. How’re y’all doing?” Silence carved their faces like stone. “Don, you okay after your fall yesterday?”

He shrugged. Sara’s forehead creased as she looked at him, then back up at Vicky. Her eyes were red and watery. A rim of hazel surrounded hugely dilated, eerie black pupils.

“Hello, Sara. Good to see you again.” Vicky wondered how stress and guilt interacted with whatever drug she was on. “Mind if I join you for a minute?”

Don started making getting-up motions. “I’m leaving.”

“Hang on, Don, please. I’d like to talk with both of you.”

“But we have to—” said Sara.

Vicky slid into the booth next to her. Good. She could still see the lawyer’s building. “Let’s talk about the burner phone you left in Liz Ann’s office.”

Sara froze with one arm already in her jacket. Good. Vicky’s theory was right. Don stopped working his way to standing, clearly interested.

“Don, I’m going to take you at your word you weren’t going to shoot me or anyone else. For now, anyway. But the two of you need to come clean.”

Sara sat unmoving, jacket half-on. Don resembled a statue of an old man frozen in the middle of getting up, one arm braced on the table.

“Sara, you knew Sam and I were going to Liz Ann’s office. You put the phone on the windowsill. You were rushing out when we got there. Why’d you do that?”

Sara stared with hollow, almost alien eyes. Impossible to read.

“It wasn’t you listening in, though, right? Who was it?”

Sara blinked hard and tightened her lips before she looked at Don, then down at the table.

“Don. You must know more history of all this than anyone else around here. You act like a nice guy. But you knew all about the cave and smuggling, and kept quiet about it all these years, even with a little girl missing.”

More silence. Okay. She could work with that. “And when Lisa turned up, you must have thought of the cave. It was still being used back then, wasn’t it? You knew what was going on, but you didn’t speak up? Then Rose goes missing and you still don’t say a word about it. Why?”

She felt herself ramping up and paused to slow her momentum. “Yes, it turns out she wasn’t there, but you should’ve made certain that someone checked the cave. Too many secrets can rot your soul, Don. At least around the edges.”

Don stared at the table. The aw-shucks was all gone out of him.

“Who’s pressuring you? The two of you?”

Don and Sara whipped looks at each other. Ah. A stab in the dark that nicked the target. “Someone has something on you two.”

“How do—”

Don interrupted Sara before she could say any more. “Shut up. She’s bluffing. She doesn’t know a damn thing.”

Vicky waited, ever more certain. After a moment, Don stood. “I’m leaving.” He shuffled toward the door, looking older than he did the day before.

Good. Sara was more likely to talk now that they were alone.

When Vicky tapped a finger in Sara’s direction, she jerked back like she’d been burned. “Sara. Who told you to put the phone there?”

“You don’t know anything.”

“But you do, and you need to talk about it. You know you do. You love Rose. Your own sister’s kid.”

Sara’s shoulders shook.

Vicky shifted to face her. “I know you’re super stressed. That’s completely understandable. You’ve been through a lot. You and your sister.” She patted Sara’s arm once. “It must be so hard for you.”

She spent a few more minutes being warm, understanding, and sympathetic. Sara gradually seemed slightly less tense but said almost nothing.

“What’s with you and Don?” Vicky made the question sound casual. “You warned me off him when you came out to the RV that night. But, yet here you are together.”

Sara scratched at her hand. “I’m not going to talk about any of this.” She sounded more scared than stubborn. Skittish even.

“Sara, I can see something’s eating at you. Just say what you know, whatever it is. You don’t need to tell all of it. Just about the phone. You can tell me. But the sheriff needs to know who you planted it for.”

Sara crossed her arms and hunched into herself. Her half-on leather jacket drooped from her shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Just say who you did it for. You know it could have something to do with Rose.”

Sara put her forearms on the table and hunched even deeper. She made sounds that might have been stifled sobs, might have been angry grunts, might have been a deeply muttered word or two.

Tough. Vicky didn’t care which. She’d done enough persuading and prodding. “If you don’t tell the sheriff then I will. The cops need to know you put the phone in the office to spy on Sam and me. You did it for someone else. You were just kinda like a messenger.”

Sara sat up. Her eyes were still red and dilated, but less so than earlier. She appeared to be paying attention, poised for something to happen, survival instincts on alert.

“Sara, the sheriff’s going to find out one way or another. It’s better if you tell him.”

“No.”

“How about if I say you want to tell him something. I can sit with you while you talk to him.”

After a long moment, Sara nodded slowly.

“Okay, so you’re going to tell him?” Vicky put her hand out, palm up. “It’ll be okay. Let me borrow your phone. Mine’s melted.”

Sara slowly handed it to her. Vicky tapped in a number from memory. “Sheriff? Hi, it’s Vicky Robeson. I need to talk with you about a couple things…in person’s better…I’m at the diner, here with Sara. This is her phone. She has something to tell you. Uh-huh. No, she should tell you. Yes…Okay. See you then.”

She glanced at Sara. “He’ll be here in about a half hour.” Vicky handed back the phone. “It’ll be okay, Sara. Just tell him what happened. Even if it’s only about planting the phone.”

On the opposite side of the street, three men in suits approached the lawyer’s building. The lawyers or bankers, no doubt, meeting in advance. Unlikely they’d let her even into the building, much less the meeting. She needed to catch Joan either on her way in or way out.

“Wait right here, okay, Sara? I need to go outside. Can I borrow your phone?”

Sara jerked a hand in a get-lost gesture. Okay then, no phone. Vicky prodded a promise out of Sara that she would stay right where she was. She grasped her crutch and made her way toward the door. She got stuck behind a group of two women, several kids, and an adorable toddler getting ready to leave. The diner door opened and, like everyone else in the room, Vicky looked to see who was coming in.

Joan Beck frowned and scanned the room.

From her spot at the register, Sam asked, “Can I help you?”

“You seen Don Winters?” Joan asked, then saw Vicky and took three sharp steps straight toward her.

Vicky put out her hand. “Hello, Joan. Good. You got my messages.”

“Don’t give me that friendly bullshit.” Joan’s voice was low and threatening, teeth clenched and eyes squinted in the manner of Clint Eastwood at his movie badass best. She loomed over Vicky, fists clenched. In some real-life tough situations Joan could likely handle herself as well as Clint, maybe better in some.

Vicky resisted the urge to step back. She dropped her hand. “Come on, Joan. I don’t want this to sound like it’s about to, but why don’t we step outside?” She gestured toward the diners. “So we can talk without an audience?”

“Shut up. Your BS charm won’t work twice.”

Joan spread her fingers, then clenched them again. She looked angry, jumpy, nervous—like she was about to fall apart.

Vicky gestured at the small television behind the register. “Oh, wait.” The morning news was on. “I want to hear what he’s saying.” She leaned across the counter. “Sam, can you turn that up?”

By the time Sam found the remote, the morning news anchor was assuring the audience that the news team had exclusive details, stay tuned right here or go to the station website for the latest, and, “Now, here’s Monica, looks like we’re in for a biiiigg change in the weather?”

Vicky wanted news. She missed her phone and laptop. She’d have to stop by the library later to get caught up.

“What’d he say?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t hear. Their graphic said, ‘Cave Discovery’ with a map, just a dot in the middle of Missouri, no reference point, not a single road or city. It could have been anywhere in the state.”

Sam looked amused. “Well, you already know where it is.”

“It was still a terrible map. Sam, you know Joan, don’t you?”

The women barely acknowledged each other. Vicky glanced past Joan. Sara was tucked deeper in the booth. She had her jacket on and head down. Laying low. Good. Those two together would be like gasoline and lit matches.

“Sam, Joan was saying today’s meeting about the will is none of my business.”

“Well, might be a little late for that.” Sam played along beautifully. “You still going, Vick?”

“Absolutely.”

“What?” The fury on Joan’s face intensified but she seemed unsure where to direct it, her eyes darting between Sam and Vicky. “What? No way in hell you’re coming.”

“Yes, I am.” Vicky gave it a split second before she bluffed. “And by the way, Joan, I now know the real reason you didn’t tell anyone about your mystery visitor all those years ago.”

“You don’t know a goddam thing.”

“I know what you did back then.” As long as she was gambling, she might as well kick up the stakes. “And I know what you’re up to now. You have more than a half hour before your meeting. Let’s go out. I’ll tell you what I know.”

“This is none of your business.”

“Yeah. I heard you. I’ll be out front.” Vicky jerked the door open. She was sick of this. Sick of hurting, sick of uncertainty, sick of being afraid. Sick of feeling guilty. She was done being diplomatic.

Outside the diner, she positioned herself so she could watch the door. Joan followed. They faced each other on the sidewalk near the free newspaper racks.

Vicky let her voice speak for the truly pissed-off part of her. “I’ve been lied to, had a gun pointed at me, almost got blown up. So this is all my business now. Anything you’d like to say?”

Joan let her eyes do the talking, with a churning mix of reassessment, anger, and something that might include fear. Wariness, at least. Certainly hatred.

“No?” There was no clock in view, but it was time to get some answers. This might be the only chance she’d get. “I’ll tell you what I know.” Or suspect, anyway.

Where to start, what to say? “That news story about the cave—they found three bodies there. The entrance is inside the lodge, on the property next to yours. The place was used for all kinds of shady doings. And you knew that.”

Joan glanced away from Vicky to watch a sheriff department SUV and a large pickup parking in the next block.

Vicky kept her voice low. “Alisa escaped from there and you helped her. The levee girl was with her. Did you know it turns out the girl is Sam?”

Joan’s stare jerked toward the café before returning to watch two groups of people—most in uniform—exit the vehicles and walk toward the diner.

“That’s right. Sam. From the diner.”

“There’s too many people here.” Joan strode away. “Leave me alone.”