Rustic Roads: A suspense thriller, page 24
“Yeah, like you were going to share my child.”
“She wanted the baby. I didn't.”
“Still, you went along with her. The two of you planned to raise it as if it were yours.”
“So, what's it to you?”
“You had no right, and I told her.”
Peter was taken aback by the remark. “When did you talk to her?” Peter asked.
A chill went through Peter, remembering the day Jenny disappeared. She had just been to the doctor’s office that morning and came back with the news of her pregnancy.
“That afternoon.”
“The afternoon she disappeared?” Peter stared at Henry, not believing what he heard. “You were the last person to see Jenny alive then.”
Henry looked at Peter with a scowl on his face seeded by years of hate. Then quickly he drank another can of beer. He was already intoxicated beyond control.
Peter looked at Henry in disgust. The beer dripped down Henry's chin, staining his shirt. All Peter could do was turn away and shake his head.
Henry sat there with legs crossed, an air of authority on his face. Slowly he got up and walked over to the television. He turned up the volume to a level uncomfortable to the ear.
“What in the hell you are doing?” Peter turned to Henry, who was still fumbling with the controls.
Peter reached over to turn the volume down. Before he could do that, Henry was on top of him. The blow to the stomach sent Peter doubling to the floor, gasping for air. Peter slowly raised his head, too stunned to react or fight Henry off. All he could do was try to get up, but then Henry's right fist struck Peter's face full force. The sound of cartilage shattering filled the room, muffled by tires squealing from the television set. Peter collapsed unconscious on the floor but that did not stop Henry's brutal attack. Henry picked Peter up like a rag doll and continued to strike him profusely until his face was nothing more than a bloody pulp.
Peter was helpless. The attack was unprovoked and left him unable to defend himself.
Ten minutes after the attack started, Henry lay on the bed with a cold beer in his hand watching the television screen as if nothing had happened. Peter's crumpled body lay motionless on the floor at the end of the bed. He'd have been unrecognizable even to his own mother and one would have thought he was dead except for the slight movement of his chest.
Once Henry finished the last can he stood up, swayed for a moment while crushing the can, and then quickly tossed it at the wastebasket. In all there were six cans scattered about the room.
Henry staggered to the door. As he opened it, he glanced in either direction to see if anyone was out there. The sun was setting, the water a perfect color of blue green. But Henry was not in awe of any of its beauty. Once he was sure no one was around, Henry walked back to Peter who was a crumpled mass of broken flesh. Henry reached down and grabbed Peter by the hair, then yanked him up. Only a low gurgling moan came from the body. Henry maneuvered himself to the back of the squad, opened the trunk, then picked Peter up and tossed him in as if he were a sack of potatoes. Henry stood swaying for a moment, and then reached into his pocket. He pulled out the key Jenny had given him a long time ago. It would come in handy now.
* * *
Loni was huddled in the corner of her prison with a thin sheet wrapped around her body while she shivered from the cold. It had been two days since seeing her attacker last. The hunger pains were unbearable. Almost matching the anxiety that wrenched her body thinking about what he would do next. With every breath she took the aching in her right side worsened, and she feared a broken rib from her last beating. Her one eye was swollen shut, her head ached, and all she wanted to do was die. She did not know if she could endure any more abuse once he was back.
It was the distant sound of the car coming up the road that made her heart race. It was dark out, and had been for a while now. Loni knew it was her abductor. She had heard the spinning tires before and then the squealing of brakes, as the car came to a halt outside the front door.
Her palms were sweaty, her heart raced, and she could feel her body convulse in fear as she thought about what he would do. Loni listened as the outer door opened and the footsteps neared, and once outside her door the familiar sound of the key unlocking her prison. She cowered in the corner. The hunger pains were no longer significant as fear encompassed her being.
Quickly the door swung open. In the darkness Loni saw him standing, holding the limp figure. Within seconds it was thrust forward like a rag doll into her prison with a loud thump. Loni stared at the mass in the center of the room. She was motionless in the corner and tried to blend into the wall so he would forget she was there. But it was useless.
Slowly Henry stumbled into the room and looked around. Then he walked over to where Loni was huddled. He reached down and grabbed her by her bruised arm, pulling her up from the corner.
“Please, not anymore,” she whimpered pathetically as if her pleas would ever be heard.
“Shut up, whore,” Henry snapped in his drunken stupor.
“I'd rather die than go through any more.”
“Do you think I give a damn?”
Loni turned to the clump lying on the floor. “Who is that?” she asked through the tears. It was dark and all she could see was the crumpled mass and feared for a moment it was the one he meant to replace her with. She knew once that happened her ordeal would be over, but then why put her through another night of torture. She was sure he had no intention of letting her go free, but would her death be as bad as the hell she endured?
“I brought him here until I can dig a hole to bury him in,” he said then swayed for a second. Henry looked down at Loni while cupping the bottom of her chin. “And if you're good tonight, maybe I'll put you two together. It was what you wanted, Jenny. You never wanted me, did you?”
A cold chill went through Loni, as she understood what he meant. She had sensed for days the torture he dished out was not meant for her. It was someone else who caused him great pain that he really wanted to hurt. She knew the end was drawing near and now that it was, she did not want to die.
Quickly he dragged her toward the bedroom at the end of the long hall. There would be no ritualistic shower tonight. No cleansing of the soul. He was in a hurry and had no time for any of it.
Loni clung to the sheet, but it was useless. Once they reached the room he stripped it from her, pinning her to the wall with his body while he rudely explored her privates. She moaned when he pushed up against her. The pain was unbearable as she could feel her ribcage give under his pressure. It was like a flash of electricity going through her very core.
* * *
Loni lay there after his assault. Her mouth was salty from the blood she coughed up. Loni fought desperately to stay conscious for fear if she shut her eyes she'd never wake. Loni lay there for what seemed like an eternity and then she felt movement as he shifted his position and sat up on the edge of the bed. Loni did not turn to him at first, just lay there in the darkness. When she heard the flick of the match, she opened her eyes and looked up. All he did was stare at the glowing stick that lit the cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth. He sucked in, held it for the longest moment, and then blew out the billowy white cloud.
Slowly Henry turned to Loni and just stared. His voice came out soft and caring. “It could have been different,” he said.
“What are you going to do with me?” Loni asked finally. She hoped to plead to his humanity.
“None of your business,” Henry snapped, and then turned away as if not wanting to be reminded of what he had done.
“I'm not Jenny.”
Henry glanced down at the bruised girl next to him and as if waking from a dream, realized it indeed was not Jenny who lay there, but a stranger.
“Shit,” was all Henry said as he took another drag on the cigarette.
“I promise not to tell, just let me go.”
“Yeah, right.” Henry smashed the cigarette. The smoke slowly drifted out of his mouth as if he wanted to savor its warmth.
“What are you going to do?” Loni pleaded.
“So you're not tired,” Henry said as he glanced down at her. “You want more.”
“No, please.”
Loni cried. The tears streamed down her cheeks when she felt him tower over her, and the assault continued. Henry no longer cared who she was or the reason he did any of it anymore.
* * *
Calvin stopped over at the A-frame after being with his parents the better part of the day. He and Susan ate dinner while watching the sunset over the lake. Neither said much during the meal. Susan did not want to say what was really on her mind. Actually if Calvin asked her one more time, she would stay. Susan had been thinking about it ever since Henry left. She had spent her whole life running from what Calvin had to offer and now she wanted to stop. Most of all, she wanted Calvin.
“You know, if I didn't know you were without a phone up here, I'd swear you called Mom this afternoon,” Calvin said as he raised his eyebrows at Susan.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“She wants Peter to keep the house.”
Susan sighed as she stared at Calvin. “I'm relieved.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“You don't know how bothered I've been by all of this.”
“Well, my parents feel the same way.”
“You're not going to fight it then?”
“Nobody says no to Margaret Montgomery.”
“I'm sure you will understand one day.”
“Promise?” Calvin laughed.
“I feel much better now,” Susan glanced around at the lake. “Sure is lovely up here,” she said, and then turned to Calvin. “He won't develop it, will he?”
“No. I'll take care of that.” Calvin said. He glanced longingly at Susan. “But I will miss it up here.”
“You're leaving?” Susan stared into Calvin's eyes. Her stomach muscles tensed at the idea of him leaving. But in reality she had no hold on him.
“I've decided to go back to New York.”
Susan just stared at Calvin. She had not really known where he spent the last few years, and New York was so far away.
“When are you going?”
“A few days,” Calvin replied.
“Why are you going?” Susan asked. She saw the faraway look in Calvin's eyes and sensed he really did not want to leave either.
“There's nothing keeping me here now. Mom and Dad will have to deal with Jenny's death the best they can. My life isn't here. Besides, I don't think I could stand to be up here too much longer.”
“You only stayed because of me, didn't you?”
“Yes, but I'm glad now. It gave me time to settle things.”
“Do you still love Caroline?” Susan asked.
“I'll always love her,” Calvin whispered softly, then reached over and took hold of Susan's hand.
“I can see the hurt in your eyes.”
“There was so much left unresolved when she died.”
“I guess you and I just weren't meant to be,” Susan replied. It was not what she really wanted to say.
“There will always be room in my heart for you.”
Susan sensed the pain in what he had just said. She wanted to tell him she felt the same way, that she loved him and never wanted to leave this lake, but could not. The words just would not come.
The car coming up the road startled Susan for a moment. She feared it was Henry. Even if it was just to talk to Calvin, she was not ready to see him again. Not so soon after what happened earlier in the day.
“You expecting someone?” Susan asked finally.
Calvin glanced at his watch. “Not really.”
Susan got up from the table and quickly walked to the back door. The relief was overwhelming when she saw Chief Pricher getting out of his car. He clutched the brown paper bag tightly, smiled at Susan as he walked up the path. Before entering he turned to Susan, who was still standing in the doorway.
“Is Calvin here?” Pricher asked. He walked past Susan, then into the A-frame. “Jacob and Margaret told me he might be with you.”
“Yes, we were just finishing dinner.” Susan said, and then quickly added. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“No, there's no time. Besides, I have work to do.”
Susan glanced up at him, curious about what kind of work he had that would bring him up here at this hour.
“You always carry your lunch?” Susan asked, tilting her head as she gave him a quick smile.
Pricher turned to Susan. She had meant it as a joke, but the expression on his face was somber, and he found no humor in what she said. “I'm not pleased with this,” he replied as he held up the bag.
“Next time tell Gertie to leave the mustard off.” Susan could not resist, but still there was no smile.
Calvin walked over to the counter where the Chief stood.
“That was quick,” Calvin said and then glanced at his watch. “I wasn't expecting you for another hour.
“I did some checking and I think we've got trouble.”
“Why, what do you mean?”
Susan stood back puzzled by the exchange between the two. The Chief took the bag and dumped it onto the counter. Susan stared blankly at the bits and pieces of clear plastic and the shredded strands of tape.
“This isn't what I think it is?” Calvin asked. He turned to Chief Pricher, who was standing with his arms crossed and leaned on the counter.
“Yeah, and you can imagine where I found it.”
“Does he know you have it?”
“Not yet. Now, there is the matter of the bike you found?”
“It's still in back of the Land Rover. I would have dropped it off this morning but things got a little hairy.” Calvin glanced at Susan, then back at the Chief. He did not know what else to say.
“Let's have a look.” The Chief was already at the door. He did not wait for Calvin to agree.
The three of them walked back to Calvin's cabin. As they approached the Land Rover, Susan sensed neither man was happy about what the implication of Henry's involvement was.
Chief Pricher watched Calvin open the back and reach in. The red eighteen-speed Bianchi mountain bike was resting on its side.
The Chief helped Calvin pull the bike out. Calvin hung onto the bike while the Chief dug in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. Pricher shined the flashlight on the bike as he read the serial number and compared it with the numbers written on the wrinkled paper.
“This confirms it,” Pricher said as he glanced up at Calvin.
“What about the backpack?” Susan asked.
“Henry hasn't turned it in yet.”
“It was in his squad the other day, but all the film was gone.”
Pricher turned to Susan. “Calvin told me about that. You know it wasn't a smart thing to do. He may have been watching.”
“Do you think Henry is involved in Loni's disappearance?” It angered Susan that Henry did nothing with the backpack and now she understood the reason why.
“Looks that way, why else hide all of this. But it still doesn't explain his destroying the tape.”
It was Calvin who cut in. “I never listened to it, but Mom kept insisting that when the calls came, she was positive it was Jenny's voice. Could it have proven, that Jenny was actually alive when she fell down the shaft?” Calvin took hold of Susan's hand before continuing. “He had to have stood by and just recorded her pleas for help. Maybe he didn't shove her down there, but he did nothing to help. The fact that he terrorized Mom, makes things worse for him.”
“It doesn't look good,” Pricher said solemnly while taking the bike from Calvin and setting it up against the house. He turned to the two. “I knew he and Jenny were seeing each other on the sly. I even had a talk with him.” The Chief looked away for an instant but then quickly turned to Calvin. “I honestly believed it was over.”
Susan realized the tape and story were planted, but not by Peter. Henry was at the house the morning of the funeral. He must have hid the items and hoped Peter would snoop around, or worse yet, Margaret could have found them. Everything was so obvious, and Susan realized now how easily she had been manipulated.
“Why kill her?” Calvin asked.
It was Susan who spoke up. “Henry said something today that had me thinking. Jenny was supposed to leave Peter. Henry came up here spying on them. He realized after seeing them together that she was lying to him. Maybe that pushed him over the edge.”
Susan stared at Calvin as she talked. Susan knew how Calvin felt about Peter. What Calvin did not realize was Jenny truly loved Peter and they were trying to work out their problems.
“Calvin, you know what we have to do?” the Chief asked solemnly.
“Yeah, I'll come with you,” he replied but then turned to Susan. “First, let's go into the cabin. I'll give you a gun.”
“Why?” Susan asked. A cold chill went up her spine.
“You can't come with us, and I want you to protect yourself,” Calvin said as he walked in the back door, followed by the Chief and Susan. He was not giving Susan a choice in the matter.
“It's not a good idea to let her have a gun,” the Chief cut in, agreeing with Susan.
“Just my .22 revolver.” Calvin walked over to the gun cabinet, unlocking the bottom drawer. Quickly he took a few shells out of the box. Then he walked over to Susan. “Here, now take this.”
“No,” she said flatly.
“You have no choice.”
“I don't know how to use one.”
Susan never liked guns. She always refused to go to the shooting range with her stepfather and Loni. Now she regretted it.
Calvin did not listen, just continued, “Now watch, I'll run this by you a few times. These are the bullets,” he said as he held up his hand.
“Gee, thanks, I know what bullets look like.”
“Then watch.”
Calvin took the bullets and one by one slid them into the chamber. When Calvin tried to hand the cold piece of metal over to Susan, she refused.
“All you have to do is pull the hammer back like this and pull the trigger.” Calvin showed her, and then continued. “Every time you want to shoot, you have to pull the hammer back again.”
