Killerfind (33 page)

ear
squeezed Rhetta’s heart
when Mylene gripped her hand. Rhetta waited for her life to flash like a color
movie before her eyes, as she’d always heard happened when death was imminent.
Nothing flashed, not even a quick silent movie. Mylene gripped Rhetta’s hand
until she managed to pull her to her feet.

Rhetta jerked loose from her captor and threw
herself down again. She’d intended to grab the rifle, roll over and aim it at
Mylene, like she’d seen done in countless movies. However, searing pain
shooting from her side stopped her cold.

“What are you doing?” Mylene asked, as Rhetta yelped
from facedown in the dirt.

Mylene calmly reached for the weapon, then ejected
the shells. She set the rifle against the wall, then reached for Rhetta. “Don’t
throw yourself to the ground again. That had to hurt. Adele took off. I expect
we can at least get the cops to find her.” Once again, she tugged Rhetta to her
feet.

This time, Rhetta stayed put, moaning and holding
her side, unable to speak for a moment.

Mylene brushed at Rhetta’s back, knocking off some
twigs and a few globs of mud. “You certainly came out of nowhere. I’m very glad
that you did.” Mylene hefted the rifle easily. “Or else that crazy Adele would
have killed me, too.”

“Adele?” Rhetta was confused. She shook her head,
and swiped at the dirt covering her Capris, decided cleaning them off was
useless, and gave up. The motion caused another shooting pain through her rib
cage. She panted. “Adele killed her husband? And Jeremy? Ow,” she added as she
took a deep breath. “I think I broke a rib.”

Mylene clicked her tongue in sympathy. “That hurts
like the devil. Do you want me to take you to a hospital?”

“No, no, it’s not that bad.” Rhetta wasn’t about to
miss out on any of the action.

Mylene continued, “Adele admitted murdering my
father when she found out that Jeremy was his son with Anjanette Spears. I bet
she got white-hot crazy angry. I think she must’ve lured him out here, and
killed him. Jeremy figured it out after you found the body. He called me and
told me his suspicions. He also remembered the old truck that’s been out at the
cabin for years. Instead of going to the police, Jeremy figured he’d blackmail
Adele. He was always looking for an easy buck, the good-for-nothing.”

Rhetta began to feel clammy from the pain. She sank
to the floor. “Why didn’t you just go to the police?” She wanted to tell Mylene
that she agreed with her assessment of Jeremy, but her mother had always told
her not to speak ill of the dead.

Mylene scoffed. “Are you kidding? I didn’t have any
proof. Jeremy said he’d deny knowing anything. All I had was suspicions, and
besides, the cops and I don’t exactly have a great track record together.”
Mylene began pacing. “I called you and wanted to meet you at the barn to find
out if that old car you bought had been moved over the body. I suspected that
Adele used one of the company trucks to push the car over where she had buried
the body.”

She leaned over Rhetta. “I think I should take you
to a clinic, or something.”

Rhetta stood. She took a few deep breaths and found
the pain had lessened. “No, actually, I’m feeling better.” She steered the
conversation back to the events. “What kind of proof do we have that Adele
really killed Jeremy?” Rhetta asked.

“Other than she confessed to me, nothing at all.”

“And the only proof that she killed Malcom is that
truck, whose paint scrapings and dents we think correspond to the bumper on my
Z28,” Rhetta said. “That is, if we can get the cops to go to Bollinger County
and impound that truck.”

“Come with me. I’ll take you to get looked at. I
think you’re in a lot of pain.” Mylene said. “We can call the sheriff and tell
him about what we suspect.”

Rhetta shook her head. “Can’t go just yet. Ricky
left here to call the cops. They should be arriving any time. We can tell them
in person.”

Mylene nodded, a brief smile twitching her lips. “I
thought I heard someone pull in and then leave. So that was Ricky, your friend?
She left, but you stayed.” Mylene nodded her understanding. “No wonder I didn’t
know where you popped in from.” It was Mylene’s turn to shake her head at that
discovery. “Foolish Rhetta. But very brave, too. I’m grateful for your
courage.” She steered Rhetta outside to the shiny Viper, opened the passenger
door, and eased her into the seat. “I can run the air conditioner until the
cops get here. That is, if they don’t take all day. I only have a half tank of
gas.” She smiled.

Rhetta moaned when she saw the white leather
interior that reminded her of Cami’s. She gazed down at her dirt and blood
covered, formerly white Capris. She sank into the seat, letting the cool air
carry her away.

*
* *

Wailing
sirens jarred Rhetta awake. Lying back against the Viper’s cool interior, she’d
closed her eyes, hoping to stay quiet and ease the pain in her side. She
lurched for the door handle, pushed open the passenger door and was immediately
smothered by a blast of summer heat.

Mylene was leaning against the front fender, smoking
a cigarette. Rhetta nearly begged her for one, but stopped herself when she
spotted a black Trans Am following the squad car into the driveway. She knew
she didn’t have time to smoke it.

After Rhetta clambered out of the car, Mylene opened
the driver’s door and turned off the ignition. She stepped back, ground out her
cigarette with the heel of her shoe, then joined Rhetta on the passenger side
of the Viper. Mylene’s hair was damp with perspiration, her lips set in a grim
line. She propped herself against her car, and crossed her arms across her
chest. It was clear from her body language she didn’t want anything to do with
the deputies.

Beads of sweat danced across Rhetta’s forehead and
threatened to trickle down her nose. She swiped the back of her hand across her
brow. Wiping her hands on her pants leg, she turned and examined the car seat
she’d just vacated. An outline of dirt revealed where she’d been sitting.

A Cape County Sheriff’s patrol car with swirling red
and blue flashing lights emerged from a giant dust cloud and skidded to a stop
alongside the Viper. In synchronized movement, two deputies left their car and
approached them. Each man rested a hand on the butt of a holstered service
weapon. Ricky slammed her driver’s door and hobbled toward Rhetta and Mylene.
If she was surprised to see Mylene standing next to Rhetta, she didn’t say.

Everyone converged on the Viper.

  lanky
deputy wearing
a
perfectly pressed uniform and sporting a pencil-thin dark mustache held up a
hand and signaled for silence. “Good grief, can someone take a breath here and
tell me what’s going on?” He studied the three women, and from the expression
on his face, Rhetta felt it was with strong disapproval. She swore she saw his
lip curl.

Properly chastised, everyone stopped talking and
nobody spoke.

He walked around each of them. “Alrighty, then.” He
rubbed his hands together. “Can someone tell me why we got a call to come out
here?” he said, removing his flat brimmed hat and slapping dust off the outer
brim. He returned it carefully to his head, reached into his breast pocket for
a notebook, flipped it open and waited. “You can all start by giving me your
names.”

Mylene, arms still crossed, silently shook her head,
glanced sidelong at Rhetta. Then she leaned over and whispered, “We need to go
after Adele. I bet anything she’s going out to Bollinger County to destroy the
truck. That’s the only evidence that she killed my father. That is, besides the
fact that she admitted it to me.”

Rhetta nodded.

Ricky said, “I don’t know anything. I just called 9-1-1,
is all.” She whispered to Rhetta. “So, Mylene’s not the killer?” Ricky leaned
against the Viper, stretching her injured foot out ahead of her, but not before
she caressed the shiny hood.

“Nope,” Rhetta said.

The deputy, apparently noticing everyone deferring
to Rhetta, ambled over to stand in front of her, pencil poised. The second
deputy stayed back, hand on his weapon while his head swiveled, as though
scoping out the area.

“Care to tell me what happened here?” He gestured to
the barn. He turned to the other deputy, a short wall of a man in a tight
uniform. “This barn and development has just been a regular hubbub of activity
lately.”

Mylene slid her hand alongside her mouth and
whispered to Rhetta, “Did he just say hubbub?” They choked back a snicker.

One by one, the three of them identified themselves.
Then, Rhetta related what happened, ending with, “We believe Adele Griffith is
on her way to her cabin in Bollinger County to destroy evidence. You need to
notify the Bollinger County Sheriff’s office right away.”

“Right. You’re saying Adele Griffith admitted to
killing her husband and Jeremy Spears? And did both of them in at this old
barn?” He looked over at his partner, who shrugged.

“Guess it has sentimental value for her,” Mylene
muttered.

“Can’t you please call the Bollinger County Sheriff
and have him go to the cabin to arrest Adele Griffith?” Rhetta asked.

After the deputy took his time in scrutinizing the
three women, he shook his head in obvious disapproval. “I don’t see where any
crime has been committed here.” Then he ambled over to Ricky. “Ms. Lane, I
suggest you stay away from this barn. As I recall, you’re a suspect in Mr.
Spears’ death.”

Ricky visibly paled and shrank against the car.
Rhetta stepped between them.

“Officer, Ms. Lane is not under arrest. None of us
is. I suggest that you are threatening Ms. Lane, and maybe you ought to stop.
Go after the real killer, Adele Griffith.” She ran her hands through her hair
in frustration. She could imagine how she must look—filthy with bits and pieces
of dried hay sticking out from her hair.

The deputy shook his head. “Arrest Mrs. Griffith?
That’s a leap. I don’t have a warrant for her. All I have is the word of three,
shall I say, highly emotional women.”

Rhetta said, “I’m reporting your attitude to your
boss.”

Ricky said nothing.

“Oinker,” Mylene said.

With that, the deputy glared at them, snapped his
notepad closed, tucked it into his shirt pocket. He nodded toward his partner
in a signal to leave. They touched the brim of their hats as a goodbye gesture
and ambled to their patrol car.

As soon as they both reached their car, Rhetta asked
Ricky, “Can I have my phone back?” Ricky reached into her jeans pocket and
handed it over. Almost no battery power remained. A few more minutes of a phone
call and a red line would replace the green and she would be out of power. Her
charger was still at home in her Trailblazer.

“Ricky, please go home and call Randolph. Tell him
what’s going on.” Ricky nodded and hopped over to her car. The Trans Am rumbled
to life. Ricky punched the accelerator. She shifted, then zigzagged down the
driveway as the muscle car sought purchase on the gravel. The throaty LT1
resonated as Ricky defied the speed limit down the county road.

Rhetta turned to Mylene, patting the Viper’s hood.
“How fast can this baby get us to Bollinger County?”