Lights, Camera, Bones, page 23
36
The next morning, after some restoring cuddles with Coleman, I called Cece. My friend and journalist had resources I never would, and she was always good to help me and Tinkie with our cases, just as we took photos and videos for her newspaper work.
“Sarah Booth, dahlink, I thought you had died,” Cece drawled. “You must be in the first stages of putrefaction. Good thing you called because I don’t want you coming in here stinking my office up.”
I had to laugh. Cece Dee Falcon was often over the top. It had been over a week since I’d talked to her, though, and that was out of character. We chatted almost every day at least once. “I’ve been in Greenville, working on this missing movie star case. I’m home now but about to head out.”
“Yes, I was hoping for more photos, tips, leads, smashing headlines, and delicious gossip. You and Tinkie have failed me utterly.”
“You and everyone else.”
“What’s wrong?” Cece was instantly concerned.
“No leads, no clues, no sign of Marlon. The shark is still in the river. The plug is going to be pulled on this movie. It’s all just been a waste. I have no clue where Marlon might be.”
“Perk up, Sarah Booth. I have some news that will get you over your pique.”
“What?” I was eager to get in a better mood.
“Lamar Bilbo will be honored by a civic organization today.”
“Civic? More like white knights, I’d guess.”
“You’d be correct, but the good news is that he’ll be tied up in a ceremony today. Which makes it a perfect time for us to search his house and see what we can find.”
“Are you suggesting we break and enter Lamar Bilbo’s home?”
“I am indeed.”
“Thank heavens. I’m ready for some action.”
“Head out and I’ll meet you at the CVS parking lot on Elmer Road in Greenville,” Cece said. “I’m at the paper now, but I’m all but finished. We should have time to get to Bilbo’s place and search it completely. Just to give us that extra edge, Millie is catering the shindig and she’ll make sure Bilbo stays late.”
“Thank heavens for friends.” I was all in. I called Tinkie and told her the plan, and she said she’d flag a ride with Cece and be there ASAP. The three musketeers were about to ride again.
I picked the girls up at the Greenville CVS parking lot. On the way to Bilbo’s home, I filled them in on all I’d learned about the Brandon family past.
“I’ve always wondered why Jefferson Brandon named the farm Muscogee,” Cece said.
“I don’t know.” It was an honest answer.
“Let’s focus on that scoundrel Bilbo,” Cece said. “I have a feeling he’s at the bottom of all the troubles.”
I’d never given much thought to Lamar Bilbo or where he lived. Cece knew everything. His home was on the outskirts of town, set on twenty acres and invisible from the road. All of that worked in our favor. I parked down the road a little from his house and we walked back, cutting through his yard, dodging among the landscaped plants. The grounds were beautiful. I hadn’t anticipated that Bilbo would care about natural beauty.
“Does he have servants?” Tinkie asked.
“I don’t think so,” Cece said, “but Tinkie, you should knock on the door. You’re the social Queen Bee. Make up a story if an employee answers.”
“Easy for you to say,” Tinkie said, but it was clear she relished her role.
While Cece and I hid in the shrubs, Tinkie rang the bell. When there was no answer, she rang and knocked. Repeatedly. “There’s no one here,” she called to us. “We’re in luck.”
We swarmed the house, Cece and I going in opposite directions. Tinkie pulled out her lock picks and started on the front door. One of us would find a way into the house that would leave no trace.
“I got it!” Tinkie called out. I had to give her credit. She’d picked that lock in under three minutes. She opened the front door and we slipped inside.
“What are we looking for?” Cece sensibly asked.
“Evidence that Marlon has been here. Anything related to Marlon. Ransom notes. Family scandals. Anything useful.”
“Oh, something that should be easy to spot,” Cece said sarcastically. “Anything that implicates Bilbo or gives us a lead. I’m desperate.”
“Split up and get busy,” I said as I headed for Bilbo’s office. Cece took the kitchen and Tinkie, the bedrooms.
I rifled through Bilbo’s desk. The man hadn’t hit a lick at a snake in the last five years that I could tell. Mostly his appointment book was filled with gab sessions with his buddies. I did find where he’d taken a meeting with the bikers, the Johnny Boys. It wasn’t evidence that he’d hired them to harass the movie company, but it was a connection.
“Hey, someone is coming up to the door,” Tinkie whispered from the hallway.
I froze in place as the doorbell rang. “Who is it?”
Cece had the best view out a window. “Handsome guy, slight limp. Young, dark hair.”
“Yeah, we met him on the movie set.” Tinkie was now peeping out the window.
I suspected who it was, and I slipped to the window to take a gander. RoDa had reappeared and now stood on the porch, holding an envelope in his hand. Marlon’s good friend, Robert Davis, was consorting with the enemy.
“Do you think he’ll leave the envelope?” Cece asked.
“Maybe.” We could hope. “Just stay quiet.” We were all three holding our breath and watching RoDa as he fidgeted at the front door. Finally, he bent down and stuck the envelope under the welcome mat. He didn’t linger. He took off.
As soon as we were sure he was gone, I opened the door and retrieved the fat envelope. I tore it open and hundred-dollar bills fluttered to the floor.
“It’s a payoff,” Tinkie said. “But for what?”
“Maybe for the release of Marlon.” I sighed. I had no clue what RoDa’s real motives were. “Or it could be payment for keeping Marlon away from the set.”
“The only thing to do is to split up and track Mr. RoDa. I need my car,” Cece said. “One of us needs to sit on Bilbo, and another needs to follow RoDa and see where he goes.”
“Put the money back under the mat,” Tinkie said. “If it’s to release Marlon, we can’t interfere.”
“Tinkie, would you wait here to see if anyone shows up to retrieve the money?” I asked. “I’ll take Cece to get her car, and then I’ll follow RoDa, if I can find him. Cece will come get you.”
“You’d better hurry,” Cece said. “I’ll wait in the yard. I don’t want to be in here if he comes home. I know Millie said she’d call, but Bilbo is a slippery eel.”
“Thanks!” I was out the door with Cece right beside me. We were only a few minutes from where she’d left her car, so I dropped her off and headed to the movie set, hoping to pick up RoDa’s trail. I was in luck. He was in an intense conversation with Ana McCants. I would have killed for one of those parabolic listening devices all the spies had in movies. As it was, I just had to sink down in my seat and make sure no one on the set recognized me as I waited for RoDa to make a move.
Patience was not one of my virtues, but I was digging my new stealth vehicle. Because it was electric it didn’t make noise, plus it looked like hundreds of other SUVs, and it had clearance for bumpy roads.
Slouching in my seat, I watched RoDa via the rearview mirror. It looked like he and Ana were at each other’s throats. I wondered why. And I also wondered if RoDa knew the sheriff wanted to question him. He’d left the hospital before the deputies could pick him up. Right now, he needed to be free so I could follow him.
It didn’t take long before he came limping up the hill to his vehicle. When he left the set, I was discreetly behind him.
37
RoDa headed northeast, and I figured he was going back to the hunting lodge in the woods. Perhaps he was returning to look for the key he’d buried. He would be disappointed in that pursuit. Or maybe he was meeting someone. Marlon? Bilbo? The senator? Only time would tell. I kept a good distance in between, but it was hard to tail him. The long, straight Delta farm roads held little traffic. The fallow fields offered no cover. It was a wide-open vista that stretched for miles.
I was completely unprepared when RoDa slammed on his brakes, skidded to a stop, and did a U-turn in the middle of the road. He was coming right at me. Had he realized I was tailing him? I pushed sunglasses on my face and slunk lower in the seat, but I kept a steady foot on the gas pedal and refused to look his way when we passed each other.
To my utter relief, he kept driving. He appeared to be going back to town. I came to a crossroads and turned left, driving until I saw a windrow in a field. Trees gave me cover to turn around, and I blasted back toward town. I had to catch up to him, but not at a speed that would give me away. Just as he entered Greenville City limits, I caught sight of his car.
He continued through town and then south, angling toward the river. My gut clenched. There were so many things I didn’t want to find in the river. Nonetheless, I followed. RoDa continued into an area I didn’t know at all, twisting through woods and brakes until he pulled down a two-lane track. There was no way I could follow him without being spotted. I pulled farther down the trail and parked. I could smell the river. The leaves danced on the wind that blew off the water. RoDa couldn’t go far on foot with a bum leg, and there was no way to get across the river.
I could either run him to ground or hide out and wait. I set off on foot, but not before I got my gun out of the back of the car. Coleman had thoughtfully transferred all of my “tools” from the trunk of the Mercedes to my new ride. I had binoculars—a gift from Coleman—and my gun, both tucked into what looked like a camera bag.
I set off through the undergrowth. My cell phone was in my pocket, on vibrate, and I felt it shiver just as I came to the slope that angled down to the river. I paused to read the text from Tinkie. She and Cece were still at Bilbo’s. So far, no action. I texted my location, as best I could, and said I was following RoDa. I had learned the hard way to be sure and check in with folks in case something went wrong and I disappeared. The cavalry couldn’t ride to the rescue without a location.
My new car had a GPS system, and I wondered if Coleman could track that as I walked. I’d never thought to ask because such things hadn’t been invented when the Roadster was new. This could be a blessing and a curse. Even though my mind was spinning, my ears were working double-time. I heard the crackle of a stick. I stopped and listened. Another snap. Someone was just ahead, tramping through the dead limbs and scrub.
I caught movement and ducked behind a cypress tree. RoDa was moving toward the river. I could see the water; we were in a bend of the river. The bustle of Greenville would be hidden from us, and us from the town. But what in the hell was RoDa up to? I couldn’t decide if he was one of the good guys or the bad.
I crept forward. His voice stopped me. He was talking on the phone. I was almost close enough to hear what he was saying. Taking a chance, I inched closer.
“I can’t do that.”
There was a pause as the person on the other end of the call talked.
RoDa’s voice was filled with stress. “I can’t. I won’t. You can’t make me.”
It would seem the other conversant disagreed. I could hear an angry male voice.
“I’ve done everything you asked. I planted the information. I did everything you told me, and I got shot for my trouble. Now I’m done. I won’t do this.”
Again, the angry male voice. I just couldn’t hear clearly enough to know who he was or what he was asking of RoDa.
“I’m done. You can shove it where the sun don’t shine.” RoDa punched his phone off.
He walked down to the river. I prepared to confront him, to tell him I’d help him if he’d help me with Marlon. I knew he was involved, I just didn’t know how. And I couldn’t tell who he’d been talking to.
Just as I stood up to move, a shot rang out. RoDa tumbled into the river. He came up, shouting for help and struggling.
It was then I saw the dorsal fin. It broke the water about two hundred feet from shore. It turned and headed straight for RoDa. I had no choice. I dropped my phone and the bag with my tools and ran for the river. I didn’t hesitate. I did a flat, racing dive into the water and swam for RoDa. The cold water almost knocked the breath out of me, but I swam with all I had. He wasn’t far from the bank, but the water was deep and the current strong. Fear that we’d both be swept downriver gripped me, but I fought on.
I grabbed his shirt and he spun, trying to climb on me. It was an impulse for anyone who was drowning. I went underwater, escaped his grip, and came up behind him. When I surfaced, a lot of the fight had gone out of him. The water around him churned, tinged with blood. Oh, this was not good.
“Stop struggling!” I managed to yell. “Stop.”
He was panicked but he was also weakened by the gunshot. I was able to get an arm across his body and I swam for shore. He was on his back, and I was dragging him with everything I had in me.
I dared a glance at the shark and my heart almost stopped. It was trailing us, fast! The shore was only twenty feet away, but I didn’t know if I could make it, or if I could even get on the land. If the river bottom was sloped, I stood a chance. If it was a steep drop-off, I wasn’t strong enough to drag RoDa to safety.
My feet propellered in the water, and I could almost feel the shark’s teeth clamp down on my legs—but it was only my imagination and fear. At last I felt the bottom of the river beneath my feet. We’d been swept farther downstream in the current, and I wasn’t certain where I was. RoDa was bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound in his left shoulder. I felt a lump where I held him. Thank goodness he’d drifted into unconsciousness or he would have been screaming with pain.
Just as I hauled him up on the sand the shark came out of the water, mouth open. She snapped on air and disappeared. I pulled RoDa the rest of the way out of the water and then collapsed beside him on the muddy bank. I checked his shoulder, where the bullet had entered the back and come out the front. Luckily there were no broken bones. Other than that, I couldn’t tell how seriously he was injured. The bleeding was slow, but steady. He needed help.
I didn’t know how I would get him back to my car or get help for him. My phone was upriver on the bank where we’d gone in. The only thing to do was leave him and walk back for my gun and phone.
Not much point in telling him I’d be back—he wasn’t aware I was leaving. I set off along the bank, hoping we hadn’t drifted too far. I hadn’t been paying attention to the riverbank because I’d been focused on avoiding shark teeth. I kept my focus on the ground in front of me. Every time I looked at the river, I saw the maw of the shark rising out of the water, teeth snapping the air so fiercely, droplets of water flew everywhere. The episode was burned into my brain. The one thing a Delta girl never anticipated was having shark PTSD.
When the riverbank firmed up, I notched my speed up to a jog. I was limp from the struggle of the swim, but now wasn’t the time to stop. RoDa, and possibly Marlon, depended on me to carry on. At last I came to the bend in the river and saw my bag on the ground, my phone beside it. I dialed Coleman first—to let him know I was okay and also that someone had shot RoDa, again. He would tell Sheriff Nelson and the deputies would be here double-quick. As it was, I moved to the tree line and tucked into a nook in a large willow tree. The shooter might still be watching. It was probable that the shooter had fled once RoDa went into the water, but I had no way to be certain and I didn’t want to be a target.
I texted Tinkie to let her know what had happened. She blasted right back with exclamations and an offer to come to my rescue, but I delayed that. She and Cece were more valuable sitting on Bilbo’s house.
I urged them to keep a sharp eye to see if Bilbo arrived with a gun—or had one in his vehicle. I suspected him to be the shooter. When RoDa had given the man on the telephone guff, he’d been shot. The two things had to be connected.
It was also interesting that RoDa had admitted that all the information on the Muscogee woman—the whole dreaded Brandon family secret—was a plant. One that I’d been led to and then led around by the nose with. Which made me wonder if the whole thing was a lie. And why would RoDa participate in setting me up to sniff after a lie since he claimed to be Marlon’s friend?
I could hear Aunt Loulane saying “‘Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.’” Deadly true. RoDa had almost lost his life, twice. So if he was working for Bilbo during the first instance, who had shot him at the lodge? And if he had riled Bilbo in the second incident, had Bilbo been the shooter? There were just too many questions.
RoDa was going to tell me the truth, if he lived. I had to get back to him now to do what I could. His gunshot wound wasn’t fatal, but it was possible he could bleed out. I picked up my things and hurried downriver as fast as I could go. When I came to the place where I’d left RoDa, I stopped. He was gone. Completely vanished—except for a second set of drag marks that led to the water.
There was no sign of the actor, only a small puddle of blood in the sand. I had a terrible feeling. Had the shooter come back and tossed him into the river for the shark to finish off? Dread made my heart thud. A wounded man just couldn’t vanish from the bank of a river in a wilderness area.
I searched everywhere, carefully, looking for clues. If RoDa was still bleeding, I couldn’t find any spatters in the sand. And no footprints leading away from the area where I’d left him. Someone had taken a leafy branch and swept the area clean. When I got up into the trees, there were too many leaves and limbs for footprints to show. I did find several snapped limbs, which indicated someone had gone through that way.
I pulled out my phone and texted Coleman. “Are there any tracking dogs available in Washington County?” The state penitentiary kept bloodhounds, which local sheriffs often borrowed. But it took time.
“I’ll call the prison and ask,” Coleman said. “Good suggestion.”
