Grave Doubts (A Paranormal Mystery Novel) (25 page)

Lee recovered
from her surprise. “I don’t have anything concrete, except maybe how the suicide
note was printed and the insulin. Nothing that points directly to one person.”

“What about the
suicide note?”

“Jenny is
positive it wasn’t printed on Diane’s printer. Something to do with how the
paper holds the ink.”

Lee went to the
hallway and grabbed the suicide note off the hall table and presented it to
Marion who read it quietly.

“It’s the
original note,” Lee said. “You can see right here that there is an apostrophe
missing, and she misspelled the word ‘a lot’. A sloppy job by anyone’s
standard, but especially if you’re a perfectionist like Diane.”

“I agree,”
Marion said. “So someone printed this note on another printer and brought it
with them.” Marion looked up at Lee, adding, “Which means her death couldn’t
have been an accident.”

“Right,” Lee whispered.

The true
gravity of what they had put together settled in the room like a fog. There was
only the sound of the clock ticking slowly in the background.

Finally, Marion
spoke. “I don’t mind telling you this frightens me.”

“I know,” Lee
said in a small voice. “Now that we’ve put it all together, it looks different
than when it was just swimming around in my head.”

Marion put the
pen down. “I think you need to call the police. Tonight.”

“I have to get
ready to go to the sawmill.”

“Seriously? After
all of this, you’re going to a sawmill tonight?”

Lee grimaced. “I
have to work. There will be several other people there. I’ll be fine.”

Marion looked
at her watch and sighed. “Okay, look, I have an early class in the morning, but
we need to talk tomorrow. No ifs, ands, or buts. Tomorrow, you call the police.”

“Deal. Thanks, Marion,”
Lee said as she stood up.

Marion held her
hand up to wave off the show of gratitude.

“Don’t thank me.
I think I’m sufficiently scared shitless for one evening, and you should be,
too.” She stepped in close to her friend. “Not all of this is correct, but something’s
going on and you need to be careful.” She looked Lee squarely in the eyes as
she stepped around her to the closet. “I’ll do a little more checking on
Pauline Bates and the occupational health thing, but, really, Lee, it’s time to
bring in the police.”

Lee leaned
against the rear of the sofa. “I just hope they don’t laugh me out of the
precinct. Alan is my friend. I don’t want him embarrassed.”

“I think you
can afford to take that chance. I’ll leave the work in progress,” she gestured
toward the easel board. “And I’ll give you a call tomorrow. We’ll talk about
how we can take this to the authorities.”

“Okay,” Lee
acquiesced. “With you by my side, how can I go wrong?”

Marion only
grunted and left. Lee looked back at the board. She didn’t think they had
nearly enough to complete the full picture, but she felt in her gut the board
held at least one piece of information that could break the case open. Now if
she could only figure out what it was.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Lee arrived at the lumber mill
feeling oddly energized by the thought she might finally be close to the end of
her journey. She would call the police the next day, meet with Sergeant Davis,
and hopefully impart enough information to force him to launch a real
investigation. And then her part in all of this could be done.

The small security building off
Main Street was bathed in the light from large floodlights mounted to the top
of two telephone poles. The huge lumber mill stood in the background,
silhouetted against the night sky as if someone had painted it into the
backdrop of a stage play. Tiny glow worms of light peeked out from various
parts of the sprawling complex, and steam spewed from smoke stacks on the north
side of the property. A string of railroad cars sat idle along a track framing
a large empty parking lot that lay just past the gate.

Another guard sat at a small desk
inside the hut. Lee rolled down her window letting in a cool breeze and tooted
her horn. The guard poked his head out the door.

“May I help you?”

“I’m with Twin Rivers Hospital. We’re
doing a photo shoot here tonight.”

He stepped to the car window,
stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Right. You’ll find your friends at the mill office on the
south end of the yard.”

“Actually, I believe plans have
changed and we’re going to the North Mill.”

“The North Mill?”

He was young, overweight, with pudgy
eyes that narrowed in confusion.

“Yes, I understand that mill isn’t
running tonight. Can you tell me how to get there from here?”

“Um…sure…let me grab a map.” He
returned to the guardhouse and grabbed a sheet of paper off his desk. When he
returned, he rested the map on her open window.

“Here it is,” he pointed. “You can
drive around this building and head straight back. None of the log loaders are
running tonight. Follow that yellow line past the log decks,” he said pointing
to a yellow stripe painted down the center of the pavement. “Turn left at the
shavings bin, and you should be all right. Your photographer is already here,
but I sent him to the other mill. You’ll have to pick him up there. You should
see his truck as you pass by.”

His hand hesitated over the map as
if he had something else to say, but he only smiled before going back inside. A
moment later, the barrier lifted, and Lee drove through, eyeing the yellow
stripe illumined by her headlights.

“Follow the yellow brick road,” she
muttered, peering out the front window.

She drove slowly and followed the
yellow line. As soon as she left the security building, she was engulfed in darkness.
Large buildings waited quietly in the shadows along the route. Lights appeared and
disappeared in one building, as if a ghost walked from room to room with a lit
candle. Stacks of lumber rose out of the darkness and just as quickly
disappeared again. They were replaced by another building with the word “Laminating
Plant” painted across the door.

Lee continued to follow the yellow
line like the track-powered cars in an amusement park ride. Finally, she slowed
to a stop in front of a building where lights blazed, and the sound of heavy
machinery reached through the closed windows. Several cars were parked outside.
This had to be the South Mill, but where was Rupert’s truck? A hundred feet beyond
was a tall diamond-shaped apparatus that was labeled on the map as the ‘Shavings
Bin.’ She drove up to it and turned. Moments later, she pulled up to the North
Mill.

The North Mill was equipped with
only two small security lights, which did little more than outline the front
door. Andrew hadn’t explained why the photo shoot had been changed when he’d
called earlier, but Rupert’s blue Ford pickup sat out in front. Somehow he’d
gotten the message. Lee stepped out of the car and immediately wrapped her arms
around her for warmth. She wore an insulated vest, but there was a distinct
chill to the air. She glanced at the sky, which was clear, but the air was
dense with moisture. She hated damp cold.

A crisp breeze flooded her nose
with the rich smells of sawdust, while sounds of compressed air oozed from the
mill like a resting steam engine. Across the yard, the machinery of the South
Mill clanked in a muffled cadence, giving Lee some comfort. She pictured the
logs being grabbed, turned, and sawn as they proceeded on their merry way to
becoming planks of finished lumber.

A scuffling sound from somewhere in
the darkness made her freeze.

She turned and squinted into the
shadows. It could have been a rodent. There had to be tons of them around here,
but the hairs on the back of her neck told her it was time to go inside.

She quickly approached the steel
door and pulled it open, trading the darkened parking lot for the shallow light
of the mill’s ground floor. Work lights were set high into the ceiling,
spilling light only onto the areas directly below them. The monstrous equipment
that had been so busy earlier in the day now slumbered quietly. She found a
staircase leading to a familiar set of catwalks and started to climb, thinking about
how much she wanted to be home and in bed.

Ping!

She stopped and listened.

Where had that come from? She
strained to locate the sound’s origin, but could only hear the compressed air
escaping into the night outside. Perhaps she’d merely kicked a nail off the
stairs. A chill rippled across her shoulders, and she grabbed the handrail to
finish the climb. She was anxious now to find Rupert.

A light shone through the window of
the filing room, and she opened the door with a rush. One look at the tripod
and camera set up at the other end of the room, and she began to chastise
herself for magnifying the sounds native to a large factory at night.

But the room was quiet. And there
was no Rupert.

Shit! Where was he?

Lee wandered around for a moment,
impatient to get the photo shoot over with. A thumping sound drew her attention
to the small workroom off to the right. She headed in that direction. Perhaps
Rupert was searching for a better place to set up, or maybe someone was working
late. Either way, she craved contact with a real person.

She hurried past the open trap door
and entered a workroom the size of a single car garage. It was the one she had
almost stepped into that afternoon. A wide worktable equipped with a built-in
anvil ran down the center of the room. Counters lined opposite walls. A pegboard
hung above the counter to her left and was filled with shop tools. At the end
of the left hand counter was a tall cupboard that jutted out into the aisle by eighteen
inches, its door ajar. There was an office at the far end of the room, with slivers
of light peeking out from behind mini-blinds.

Lee didn’t know Rupert well, but
didn’t think he’d prowl around someone’s office. She was about to retreat, when
a muffled voice made her think someone was on the phone. Perhaps whoever was
working late would know where Rupert was. She started up the aisle at a fast
clip. Three feet from the office, a man stepped from behind the cupboard into
her path.

“Hello, Lee.”

Lee’s hand flew to her chest. “God,
Andrew, you nearly scared me to death.”

“Really? I must say, that would
have been far easier.” A slow grin spread across his face.

“What?” she muttered.

Andrew’s normally hazel eyes were
liquid masses. And his mouth had frozen into a half smile. A long moment passed
between them before Lee realized she was in trouble. Andrew was VP of
Operations at the hospital. Why was he here for a photo shoot?

“What are you doing here, Andrew?”
she whispered, feeling a sour taste in her mouth. “Where’s Rupert? Where’s the
nurse?” Lee raised her voice, hoping whoever was in the office would hear her.

“Rupert is indisposed at the
moment. And the nurse won’t be coming.”

Andrew hadn’t moved and held his right
hand behind his back.

“What do you mean?”

Lee found herself glancing at his
arm, wondering what he was hiding. His dark eyes gleamed, and Lee’s body
temperature began to rise. This wasn’t the Andrew she knew. His voice was duller
than his normal monotone; it was absolutely flat. And there was no animation in
his face. And then, there was that dark stare. He hadn’t broken his gaze, and
she was sure he hadn’t blinked. She felt she was looking into the face of a complete
stranger.

Just above a whisper, he said, “I
have to get rid of something.”

Alarms screamed in her head, and
she became acutely aware of the small room closing in around her. There were no
windows, only the door behind her and the one to the office. If she could make
a clean break to the rear, she might get away. Her heart banged in her chest,
and she felt her legs might give out at any moment.

“I don’t understand,” she said,
stalling for time.

Andrew finally stepped forward,
closing the space between them to just a few inches. His expression was anything
but friendly. A voice in her head yelled, “Run!”

Lee grabbed the tall cupboard door and
swung it open, slamming it directly into Andrew’s face. She turned and lunged
for the open door behind her.

But Bud Maddox had just stepped
through the door at the far end of the saw room. Lee slid to a stop. She
couldn’t handle both of them. Panicked, she shoved the heavy workroom door
closed and flipped the lock into place. Without thinking, she whirled around and
grabbed one of the picaroons from the wall next to her, and then spun around
and pressed her back against the door. Andrew stopped short, only a few feet
away, a trickle of blood visible at his left nostril. He used his sleeve to
wipe it away.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he scowled.
“Closing the door will keep Maddox out, but I’m still here.”

Something slammed against the door,
and Maddox called out.

“Hey, bitch! Open up.”

“Go around,” Andrew called out. “I’ll
take care of things in here.”

“I don’t think so,” Lee threatened.

She took a step forward, holding
the picaroon out and flashing the vicious tip at Andrew. But he merely smiled and
brought forward his left hand. In it was a small caliber pistol. Lee looked at
the pistol and then at the contemptuous look on Andrew’s face.

“You killed Diane,” she exhaled.

Andrew chuckled. “No, but I am
going to kill you. You’re going to have a nasty little accident. Through the
trap door in the other room.”

“What makes you think I’ll
willingly step through the trap door?” she asked, feeling a giddy sense of
power as the adrenalin flooded her veins.

“It’s that or a bullet in your
head. At least you have a choice. That’s more than Diane had,” he said, smiling.

That was all it took. Too much
caffeine. Too little sleep. And this man’s arrogance. Lee snapped.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” she screamed,
swinging the pick fully at his face.

Andrew jumped back and released a
round of ammunition that slammed into the wall. Lee charged on, swinging the
weapon back and forth like a two-handed sword. She forced Andrew backwards up
the narrow aisle. As the pick swung to the left, it hooked a pair of pliers off
the pegboard and sent them flying. Andrew ducked, but Lee kept swinging. Andrew
couldn’t get off a shot. Finally, as she came to the end of the table, she swung
the pick back and it launched a small hammer on its return.

The hammer whizzed across the aisle
and hit Andrew right in the face. He cried out and stumbled. With a grunt, Lee turned
towards him and swung the pick all the way back in hopes she could finish the
job. But she’d moved in front of the long cupboard door, and the sharp tip of
the picaroon got caught in the wood, almost yanking her off her feet. Frenzied,
she turned and pulled on the long wooden handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Shall we take a walk now, Lee?”
Andrew slurred behind her.

Lee stopped pulling and glanced over
her shoulder. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps. Andrew had regained his
footing and held his left hand up to his left eye, which was closed and
bleeding. His mouth was also bleeding, and his facial muscles were twisted in
pain. But his right hand still held the gun, and it was pointed at her.

“Why don’t you just shoot me?” she
asked, breathing hard.

“Like I said, you need to have an
accident.” His voice reflected the pain he was in. “Let’s go.”

Lee’s heart raced, and the buzzing
in her ears had returned. But she didn’t move. She just watched him.

This horrible little man would not
best her, at least not without a fight. Counting on Andrew’s arrogance to blur
his judgment, she turned away from him and placed her foot against the
cupboard. With a loud grunt, she pulled until her muscles burned. With a crack,
the door suddenly broke, releasing the pick. It shot off the wall, swinging Lee
in a half circle. The pick slammed into Andrew’s gun hand, cracking his wrist. The
gun flew under the workbench on the opposite side of the room, and the pick
slammed into the anvil, nearly shaking Lee’s hands loose.

Lee steadied the weapon. Her arms
ached, but she raised the pick over her head. As she did, Andrew scurried to
the other side of the table, clutching his wrist. She was about to go after him,
when he grabbed a ball peen hammer. Even injured, she thought, he was still a
threat, and she hesitated.

She spied a door out of the corner
of her eye. It was hidden by an overly large cupboard on the far wall to her
left. She looked at the door, and then looked at Andrew. With only the flicker
of a thought, she was through the new door in a flash and back on the catwalk.
Most likely, she was on the opposite side of the filing room and prayed she
wouldn’t run into Maddox.

She lurched forward. The metal
walkway swayed and rattled as she ran, making her cringe. But there was no way
to escape quietly. She had to keep going. She rounded the back corner of the
filing room and ducked under a conveyor belt where she encountered a staircase.
She didn’t know where it led, but gripped the handrail and propelled herself
down, holding the pick in the crook of her elbow. Five feet from the bottom,
the pick slipped and caught in the railing. Lee was catapulted the last few
feet, landing face down in the sawdust. The pick dropped over the hand rail and
out of sight.