Grave Doubts (A Paranormal Mystery Novel) (28 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

It was late
afternoon when Lee emerged from the grips of a haunting dream with the ring of
a familiar voice in her head. It took a moment to realize she was actually
holding the phone and listening to Robin.

“The police
searched Andrew’s office early this morning and found a notebook with names and
addresses of some local VIPs,” she said, “along with deposit slips for regular
amounts of cash. Ruth, from up in the lab, is helping them look for hard
evidence on the hospital computers.”

Lee rubbed her
eyes. “Mmm…” she murmured.

“You gunna be
okay?”

Lee mentally
checked the bruises on her body − inner thighs, wrists, forehead,
shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. I just want to sleep…for another week, or so.”

Robin chuckled.
“Okay. I’ll give you a call later tonight. Alan and I are going to a Boy Scouts
spaghetti fundraiser, but we should be home by 8:30 or so. Get some rest.”

Lee thanked
Robin and hung up. She was tired and didn’t really want to think anymore about
what had happened at the sawmill. By the time she had climbed off the rake
carriage, the police had found someone to turn off the chain. Lee hadn’t been
able to stay in the building. She just couldn’t. So they allowed her to be interviewed
in a nearby office, while police technicians arrived and attempted to remove
what was left of Andrew from the chain. It was after three o’clock in the
morning when Lee finally got home and into bed. Two sleeping pills helped her
relax, yet sleep was anything but restful. Not only had new nightmares
disturbed her, she’d been awakened once, when Amy called around seven o’clock
because she had heard a report on the news. Lee had insisted she was okay and
went back to sleep. A half hour later, Marion had called and offered to come
over. Again, Lee had thanked her, but said she just needed sleep.

Now, the sun
that filtered through the lace curtains in her bedroom made her squint. She
turned to hide her face in the pillows, but groaned when her muscles came alive
with pain. Soldier stood up and rested her head on the bed, her big tail
swinging back and forth. Lee opened one eye to locate the dog, whose muzzle was
only inches from her face. The message was clear. She had to go out.

Lee willed her
body to move, but it protested loudly. When Soldier gave a frustrated bark, Lee
swung her legs out of bed with a hefty shout and hobbled to the bathroom. Then,
as Soldier raced ahead of her, Lee hobbled downstairs, her legs moving as
though every muscle had shortened significantly overnight. She let the dog into
the backyard and then shuffled back to the kitchen where she began the arduous
task of making tea.

She hadn’t
realized how many separate movements went into making a simple cup of tea, but
reaching for the sugar actually made her cry out as the muscles along the
underside of her arms stretched for the first time. She finally grabbed a
couple of saltine crackers and made her way to the living room, where she
collapsed into a heap on the sofa. As she spread her quilt across her lap,
Soldier wiggled into the room.

“How
do
you
get back in?”

Soldier sat
beside the coffee table panting in Lee’s direction, her eyes alight with a
dog’s natural enthusiasm.

“Jeez,” Lee
waved her hand in front of her face. “You’ve got bad breath.” She pushed the
dog away. “Okay, I get it. You’re very proud of yourself.” Lee paused, but the
dog refused to answer. “Well, next time, I’ll close the back door tight, and
you won’t be so smart.”

She made a
face, but Soldier ignored the rebuke. When the doorbell rang, Soldier went to
stand at attention in the hallway.

Lee cursed
under her breath as she put her tea down and pulled herself off the sofa to
peek out the window. It was Carey. The dog hadn’t even barked, and Lee wondered
at the dog’s uncanny ability to sense a friend.

“I hope I’m not
bothering you, Lee,” Carey apologized, watching Lee lean weakly against the
open door. “I heard about what happened last night. How are you feeling?”

Lee stepped
backward, jerking slightly when her muscles responded a half second after her
brain gave the command.

“I'm okay.
Barely,” she tried to smile. “Please, come in.”

Realizing she
didn’t have full control over her body yet, she followed Carey carefully into
the living room.

“Are you sure
you're all right?”

“I suppose,”
Lee exhaled as she lowered herself against some pillows. “I certainly wouldn’t
want to repeat it.”

“I can’t
imagine what you went through. It's all so awful.” Carey sat awkwardly on the
edge of the wing-backed chair, twisting her purse strap as she had at the
cemetery.

“Yes, but
you
must feel better,” Lee offered hopefully. “At least Diane has been exonerated.
She didn't kill herself.”

Carey glanced
at her hands as they worked the leather into a knot. “I don’t know if feeling
good is how I would describe it. When I was told Diane had committed suicide, I
was devastated. I couldn’t believe she would do something like that. Now, I’m
angry because someone took her life instead.”

“At least they
paid for it.”

“I suppose,”
she said, looking down.” If they were the ones who killed her.”

Lee looked up. “What
do you mean?”

“I don’t know.
Something,” she shook her head slightly. “Just the way the policeman described
what happened to you last night. The attack on you sounded so brutal. Diane’s
death was so clean, so simple.” Carey paused and then looked directly at Lee,
her chin held high. “Thank you, Lee. You vindicated my sister, me too, in a
way.”

“I’m not sure
what you mean.”

Carey paused,
losing the momentary brilliance. “I think you know that Vern and I are having
trouble.”

“I suspected,”
Lee responded.

“In his own
way, Vern tried to provide a good life for us. But when his clients began to
dry up, he didn’t know how to regain his balance.” She paused again to brush a
strand of hair from her eyes. “He’d always been too controlling. It seemed like
every minute of our lives had to be planned and accounted for.” Carey’s head
dropped lower before she continued. “From the beginning, he took a sadistic
pleasure in berating me in front of others, especially the boys. He’d criticize
my clothes, my cooking, how I cleaned the house. Nothing was ever right. Never
enough. Eventually, he was successful in getting the boys to join in. It was
just teasing at first. But as they grew older, the teasing became cruel.
Suddenly, I was the retard mom, or the stupid mom.” She lowered her voice so
that she was barely audible. “The real problem started the first time Vern slapped
me. It gave him a kind of power I don’t think he’d ever had. I could see it in
his eyes. A week later, he did it again. But that time, he used his fist.”

Carey paused
for a long moment. Lee just waited.

“The last time,
he grabbed my neck just before the funeral. We got into an argument about
Diane’s death. He was afraid I’d make a public spectacle of myself.”

“I would have
thought he would want to find the truth,” Lee rose to Carey’s defense as if it
still mattered. “It wouldn’t have made any difference in the end. The insurance
company would have paid either way.”

“Yes, but, you
see, Vern doesn’t know about the life insurance policy. I never told him. The
policy names me as the beneficiary, and I’ve contacted the company directly.”

“Good for you.”
Lee couldn’t help smiling.

“Yes, and now I
plan to use that money to get free,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’ve left
him, Lee. And, the boys I’m afraid. They're not mine, anymore. Maybe I’ll have
a chance with them when they’re older.” Tears suddenly appeared in her eyes. “I
contacted the insurance company this morning after I talked to the police. Then
I packed up my belongings and moved out. I have a little bit in savings, and my
mother will help out until the insurance money arrives.”

“Wow,” was
about all Lee could say.

Carey had found
a new voice.

“I figured now
was my best chance. If Vern ever got a hold of that money, I’d never see it
again. This way, it can give me a new start.”

“I’m impressed,
Carey. I really am. Diane would be proud of you.”

“You think so?”
she brightened up. “I’ve thought so much about her the last few days and what
advice she would give me. I think she would have told me to go for it.”

“I know she
would have.”

Carey glanced
over at the erase board where Marion had written Vern Mathews’ name. Lee
noticed the surprised look on Carey’s face and was immediately embarrassed.

“We were just
speculating,” Lee began to apologize. “We didn’t have any real theories.” Her
voice trailed off as Carey stood up and went to the board.

“So, Vern was a
suspect.”

“Not really.
Like I said, we just…”

“No. It’s okay,”
she dismissed Lee’s attempts at apology with a wave of her hand. “I can see why
you would have thought that.”

“We were really
just speculating, Carey. Looking at any possibility.”

Carey smiled,
diffusing the tension in the air. “Don’t worry, Lee. I probably would have
suspected Vern myself, if I didn’t know better.” She looked back at the board. “I’m
impressed at how far you’d gotten. I had no idea. But why is Pauline Bates name
up there?”

CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO

Lee spent the rest of the day
napping and watching TV. But she was restless. Carey’s last words kept popping
into her head. How
was
Pauline Bates involved in all of this?

By 7:15 p.m., she was just
finishing a slice of pizza when the phone rang. She grabbed the phone in the
kitchen, but was met with silence on the other end.

“Hello!” she nearly shouted when
there was no answer. “Hello! Shit!  Now, I’m getting crank calls,” she said to
Soldier, slamming the receiver down.

But she couldn’t stop the chill
that ran the length of her spine. Soldier merely cocked her head and sat on
Lee’s foot.

Lee looked down at the dog and
shook her shoulders to get rid of the tension the phone call had instilled.
Even though intellectually she knew she was out of danger, her ordeal the night
before had left her raw. She wondered if she’d ever not flinch at the thought
of danger. She needed to get things back to normal, and so took a couple of
deep breaths and vowed to relax.

“Okay, big girl,” she said,
ruffling Soldier’s fur. “It’s time for you to go out again.”

Soldier pushed ahead of her down
the hallway toward the back door. Lee moved more fluidly than she had that
morning, but her muscles still fought back although with less success. Soldier
bounded out onto the back porch and then used her nose to open the screen door.

“So, that’s how you do it,” Lee
said, eying the broken latch on the screen door. “Wait a minute,” she said,
returning the kitchen.

She went to a cupboard where Amy
had stashed a bag of large rawhide chew sticks. She grabbed one and went back to
the porch and called the dog. It had begun to rain, and a blustery wind had
kicked up outside. Soldier came back onto the porch and shook the water off.
When she saw what Lee held, she came to attention immediately, her gaze glued
on the rawhide.

“Want this?” she asked, teasing the
dog.

Soldier scooted forward a couple of
inches, her ears standing straight up.

“Okay,” Lee said, holding it out.

Soldier grabbed it in her powerful
jaws and climbed up on a bench that sat under the study window. She quickly
settled down to focus on her treasure.

“I guess that will keep you busy
for awhile. I’m closing the back door tight this time. I have some serious
relaxing to do.”

Lee returned to the kitchen and
downed a couple of Advil. She grabbed a last bite of pizza, before wrapping up
the remaining slices and tossing them into the refrigerator. Then she made some
hot tea and returned to the living room.

Lee closed the drapes, kindled a
fire and settled back with the afghan spread across her lap. As she watched
flames engulf the instant log, thoughts of Diane surfaced. So much had happened
in just a few days, and so many people had died. Why? She still didn’t know the
answer to that question. Perhaps, she never would.

Her head felt heavy, and she closed
her eyes hoping to relieve the burning sensation behind her eyelids. The wind
outside lulled her into a doze, and the muscles in her shoulders began to
relax. Before long, she was sound asleep. One by one, haunting images began to
parade their way through her mind. Andrew with the ball peen hammer. Bud Maddox
with his leering grin. The gruesome chain.
Diane’s
living room, right down to the pictures on the fireplace mantle.

Lee came suddenly awake. Her heart raced,
and her skin tingled. What was it about Diane’s living room that had spooked
her?

When she couldn’t get her brain to
focus, she allowed her head to flop back onto the sofa. God, she thought. She
was so tired. Her
body was a wreck, and she
needed to stop thinking about the events of the past few days. She just wished
the dull ache behind her eyes would subside.

Her
head rolled to the side, and she allowed her gaze to come to rest on a
silver-framed photo on the side table. Amy’s shining face smiled back in a
picture taken at the beach the summer she turned fourteen. Lee stared at the
picture, thinking of Amy. The pendulum clock on the wall ticked softly behind
her. Somewhere in the distance, a car door closed.

Lee
continued to stare at the photo until the ornate silver frame began to float.
Fatigue blurred her consciousness, and her eyelids began to close again. Her
thoughts began to run together. Amy and the beach. Amy and the dog. Amy at
school. Amy coming home this weekend to celebrate Lee’s birthday.

Birthday!

Lee’s
eyes popped open again, bringing the silver frame back into focus.

“Shit!
That was it!”

She
sat up, threw off the blanket and hurried as fast as she could to the hall
closet to search for her large photo album. When she found it, she returned to
the sofa and opened it to a series of pictures taken at a surprise birthday
party she’d thrown for Diane only a few weeks before her death. She flipped
through pictures of the party until she found the one she was looking for. In
it, Diane held a present up for the camera that Carey had given her.

Lee
pulled the picture out of its protective sleeve and reached for the drawer in
the end table. She extracted her mother’s old magnifying glass. Then, she
wedged herself into the corner under the direct glare of the lamp and forced
her eyes to focus through the magnifying glass at the photo in her hand.
Suddenly, her heart felt too big for her chest.

Lee
was staring at a photo of Diane holding a small, but now familiar, pewter
picture frame.

Lee
dropped the photo and bolted to the hallway to grab her purse. Her fingers
delved into the main pocket, pushing aside her wallet and makeup bag until she
felt the cold metal of the pewter frame she’d stolen from Emily Maddox. She
pulled it out and studied it.

It
was definitely the one in the picture – the one Carey had given Diane. So how had
Emily Maddox gotten it?

As
Lee contemplated this, she took notice of the picture itself. It was of Bud and
Diane standing before a western storefront in Sisters, a small town up in the
mountains. Diane and Bud had made the trip with another couple from the
hospital just the weekend before she died. A second chill flushed Lee’s body.

This
had to be a picture from the missing roll of film in Diane’s camera!

Lee
thought back. Hadn’t Diane said she was taking the last picture on the roll
when she’d taken the picture of Lee that night? So, if this picture was from
the missing roll of film, how the hell did it get on a shelf in Emily Maddox’s
home?

“My
God!” she whispered to herself. “I’m so stupid. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Andrew
said last night that he didn’t kill Diane.”

Lee
stumbled to the phone to call the police station. She remembered it all now,
including what Diane had said that night.

“I’ll put this picture of you in that teeny frame Carey gave me…or
better yet, in my scrapbook with all of my other single friends.

Damn!
Why hadn’t she remembered the part about the frame? Why had she focused only on
the part about single friends?

“I’m
sorry, Sergeant Davis has already left,” a brusque voice said. “Do you want to
leave a message?”

“No,
thanks,” Lee snapped to attention.

Lee’s
hands trembled as she cut the phone connection. In the background, a roll of
thunder punctuated her racing heartbeat. Sergeant Davis wasn’t available. And Alan
had gone to a scouting event. He and Robin wouldn’t be home until 8:30 p.m. Lee
glanced at her watch. It was just after eight o’clock. Patrick was at the
theater and wouldn’t be home for another hour or so. If she left now, she’d get
to Alan’s house just about the time he and Robin returned. And she could tell Alan
what she now knew – that it hadn’t been Bud
or
Andrew who had killed
Diane. And she could tell Robin that it hadn’t been Pauline Bates at the
graveyard, either. In fact, Pauline Bates had had nothing to do with Diane’s
death.

Lee
took the photos and hurried back to the closet to grab her coat. A crack of lightning
lit up the front yard, making her jump. Her nerves were frayed, and she was
shaking. She took a deep breath and then stuffed the frame and the photo from
Diane’s birthday party into the side pocket of her purse. There was an
incessant drumming on the roof, which meant it was raining hard.

“Just
my luck,” she mumbled.

As
she grabbed an umbrella from the umbrella stand by the door, a shadow flashed
past the front sidelight. In her mindless rush to get to the car, Lee swung the
door open, only to come face to face with Emily Maddox.

“Going
out?” the other woman smiled.

Lee’s
knees nearly buckled.

“I've
caught you at a bad time,” Maddox purred.

Lee's
mind filled with a cacophony of sound that blocked out any logical response.
Diane’s murderer stood in front of her, while the night disappeared behind her
like a black hole in space.

“I
was just leaving,” Lee said in a faint voice.

“I’ve
remembered something that might be of help,” Maddox said.

Lee
opened her mouth to respond, when Emily Maddox suddenly swept past her into the
entryway.

“It
won't take long,” the woman whispered, gliding into the living room. “I’m sure
you’ll want to hear this.”

Lee
swallowed her response, cursing herself for not closing the door in the woman’s
face. But all of Lee’s circuits seemed to have shut down. She felt like an
electrical appliance someone had forgotten to plug in, and now it was too late.
Lee glanced at the open door. It was her only means of escape. She could just
step outside and be free of this woman. Maddox seemed to read her thoughts and
turned to her.

“I
have something for you,” she said.

From
the inside of her coat, Maddox brought something out and rolled it back and forth
between her fingers like a blackjack dealer. The melodic tingling riveted Lee
to the spot. It was Amy’s charm bracelet.

“Where
did you get that?” she gasped.

Lee
couldn’t help herself. She dropped the umbrella and stumbled forward, staring
at the bracelet as it glinted in the low light. Tears flooded her eyes so that
she could barely see.

“What
have you done with my daughter?”  Her whole body trembled now, and she feared
she might actually collapse. “What do you want from me?”

“You
have something I need. Please, close the door.”

Lee
leaned helplessly against the archway to the living room, her body a limp
collection of bones and muscles. Everything she’d fought for in the last few
days, her idea of friendship, her own pride and sanity, even justice, had evaporated.
None of it mattered anymore. Only Amy. She turned and closed the door, feeling
like she was shutting the door on her own life.

“I
don’t have anything,” Lee mumbled, turning back. “I don’t know what you’re
talking about.”

“It
wasn’t at Diane’s, so you must have taken it. Bud didn’t have time to find it
here, but I know you have it.”

A
flash of recognition blazed through Lee’s mind. The photo. Emily Maddox wanted
the only thing that would link her to Diane. Lee’s elbow clamped down on her
purse as she took a few faltering steps backwards.

“Your
daughter!” Maddox stopped her. “She needs you.”

Lee
stopped, feeling unsteady on her feet. The colors in the room had become a
psychedelic collection of shimmering crystals. Emily Maddox reached into her
pocket and produced a key, like a magician pulls a rabbit out of a hat.

“This
will get you what you want. Now give it to me.”

Lee
moved to the back of the sofa, staring at the key dangling from the woman’s
gloved fingers. Attached to it was a tag, like the key to a storage locker. Lee
felt her stomach rise into her gullet at the thought of Amy stuffed inside a
locker somewhere.

“It’s
clearly marked. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding the location, but you
don’t really have time to waste.”

Lee
hesitated, her mind turning over her few options. If she ran for the police,
this woman would disappear into the night, and she might never find Amy. If she
gave her the photo, there would be no proof that she was involved with Diane’s
murder. But did that matter if Lee lost Amy?  If she was successful in finding
her daughter, Amy could identify Bud’s sister as her abductor. Perhaps Emily
hadn’t thought of that. The possibility motivated Lee to step in front of the
sofa.

“How
do I know you won’t try to kill me once you have what you want?”

Emily
patted down her pockets with her free hand.

“I
have no weapon. You see? Nothing hidden inside.” She opened her coat like a
street vendor shows off his collection of watches. “Give me what I want, and
I’ll leave you alone. You can cry all you want to the police. They won’t
believe you. All the evidence they have points to Andrew and my brother. And
they’re both dead.”

“Your
wha…”

Then
the last piece of the puzzle dropped into place. The eyes. The brows. Even the
cocky way she held her head. This was Bud Maddox’s sister. Not his wife. The
implication twisted Lee’s intestines into a knot. No wonder she’d looked so
familiar.