Inevitable Sentences (27 page)

Fortunately, she saw no sign of life. Was that fortunate? Why did she think of the word
life?
“Damn and damn again.” Releasing the wheel, she folded her arms around herself and trembled as fiercely as one of the wind-thrashed birches in the forest.

“Now what?” She really had no strategy. She only knew she had to be there to help in some way. Could she plan a diversion to distract Chad so Celeste could run from the building? For that, she’d have to get a good idea of where Chad held Celeste. She’d have to get an idea of his behavior. Was he agitated because he felt cornered or calm because he felt in control? She would have to sneak up to a window or windows without being noticed and look in. Would that even be possible? Chad would certainly be vigilant.

Again, she studied the house. Hard to imagine what might be happening inside. It looked perfect and as tranquil as a snowy scene on a Christmas card. Even the glow from the lanterns she had lit earlier snuck out through the narrow openings in the window coverings. Only that evening everything here had been secure and happy, truly a safe house. Would it ever be that way again?

Adrian still didn’t move. She was scared, unsure she had the courage to do what had to be done. She had always been such a coward. For years, she hadn’t ever stood up to her husband. What made her think she could stand up to Chad?

But she had mustered the courage to finally pack up and leave her husband. Mightn’t she be capable of much more?

Could Chad take on two women at once? She doubted it. He could hurt or even kill Celeste, though, before Adrian could get inside or distract him. She had to be stealthy to make absolutely sure she’d catch Chad off guard.

Adrian searched her pocket for the cell phone. It wasn’t there. “Damn. Lorraine still has it.” Why did she need it? Who would she call? What’s more, there had been no reception earlier. In reality, having the phone somehow simply made her feel safer.

H
OWLONG HAD SHE
been sitting here wasting time? Adrian had to make her move. She was looking down to unclip her seat belt when someone knocked on the driver’s window. Adrian jumped so high, she hit her head against the ceiling and let out such a shrill scream it could have sliced through ice.

The person outside flashed a light into her eyes. She couldn’t make out the features, except he appeared larger than anyone she had ever seen. Fear raced from her feet to her head like lightning darting across the horizon, leaving her trembling.

The man knocked again. “Open the window, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Chad wouldn’t call her ma’am. Could this man be a cop? Adrian spoke through the glass. “Who are you?”

“Deputy Owens. More important, who are you, and what are you doing here?”

In her fright, she had not noticed the man was holding his badge up to the window. How had she missed his approach? How had she missed his vehicle? Or could there be more than one deputy? In her relief, she nearly ripped the handle from the door when she rolled down the window. “I’m Adrian Chappell. I live in the lighthouse. Is Celeste okay? Did you capture Chad Wilbanks?”

The deputy didn’t answer her questions. Instead, he recited an order in his best, unemotional police tone. “You can’t go any farther. This is a crime scene, and no one other than law enforcement personnel can be in the area.”

“Crime scene?” Adrian abruptly pushed the car door open and nearly knocked the deputy over. “What has happened to Celeste?” she shrieked and jumped from the car. She darted toward the lighthouse.

Owens grabbed one of Adrian’s arms. “You can’t go any further. You’ll get in the way of the police and maybe even destroy evidence.” Owens gently pushed her back toward the van. “You can wait here or, better yet, turn around and go back to Big Bay. You can stay at the inn.”

“I’ve done that already.” Adrian’s tone made it clear that his suggestion was dumb. “I’m needed here.”

“You can’t do anything but get in the way. We have the area cordoned off and, I repeat, that means only police officials are allowed.” He moved in front of her to cut off her view of the lighthouse.

Adrian managed a couple of steps around him. The deputy grabbed her arm again. “Please don’t make me put you under arrest,” he said. From him, “please” was a mere formality.

“You can’t do that.” Where was she getting the cocky nerve to stand up to a deputy sheriff?

“Yes, ma’am, I can, if you interfere with a crime scene.” His voice became quieter. Once again he ushered her to the van. “I know how difficult it is to be a spectator when you know a friend is in trouble. You have to trust me. We’ll do everything humanly possible to resolve this incident without anyone getting hurt.”

Adrian began sobbing. “It’s hard to believe all this is happening. Please don’t let anything happen to Celeste. Please.” Her tears froze on her face.

“We won’t let anything happen.” He protected her head with his hand as he gently—and firmly—pushed her back into the driver’s seat.

Adrian appreciated his comment but knew in reality he couldn’t make that promise. How could he? No one had any idea how all of this would pan out. Praying for a positive outcome was the best any of them could do. “Okay,” she said and slumped behind the steering wheel, sniffling and staring at the lighthouse. She could see people moving about in the yard and in and out of the trees. It must be the police. Some had just arrived. Others must have passed the Thunder Bay Inn while she was helping settle the women and children.

“I’ve got to get back,” Deputy Owens said. “You stay put, or I’ll have an officer escort you out of here—if I don’t arrest you myself.”

Adrian nodded and watched Owens walk away. Once he had disappeared into the shadows to huddle with the other officers, she eased the van door open and slid out. As ordered, she wouldn’t interfere with police proceedings, but she wanted to get close enough to observe what they were doing.

Adrian hid herself behind a clump of birch where she had a perfect view of the lighthouse and what appeared to be a police staging area carefully hidden at the edge of the woods. It would be difficult for anyone looking out from the lighthouse to have a clear view of the police command post. Yet it was hard for her to believe Chad didn’t know the police had arrived. Even with care, their voices would carry and the portable lighting erected in the yard spread an obvious if not ominous glow across the snow that had visibly been trampled by the officers’ feet.

Although Adrian couldn’t see the Emergency Support Team, she did see the truck that must have carried them to the scene. Most likely they had already been posted strategically around the lighthouse, where they were hiding in dark crevices and patiently waiting for further orders. She knew the EST had sharpshooters like her husband. If they planned to shoot into the lighthouse, she hoped they only hit Chad. Of course, she was being silly. A trained sharpshooter would take down a perpetrator only if he had a clear shot.

She heaved a great sigh. Mistakes had been made in the past, however. Her husband had once confessed that.

An ambulance, followed by another sheriff’s SUV, pulled up to the staging area. Adrian dreaded the sight of the emergency vehicle. Had the police assumed it would be required or had they already identified a victim?

Three men got out of the SUV and Adrian immediately recognized Max. She started to call out to him, but caught herself. She didn’t want to be hauled away in handcuffs for disobeying Deputy Owens. Yet she did want to get his attention. Would he use his influence to get her closer to the action?

W
HILE
M
AX AND
H
UNTER
talked with the senior officer on the site, Max surveyed the area. A movement in the woods caught his eye. Was it a deer? He squinted trying to identify it. Suddenly a woman appeared from behind a tree and slipped on some ice. She crashed to the ground shrieking, “Yipes!”

Hunter turned to the sound. “What the hell?”

As she righted herself, Max stormed in her direction. “What do you think you’re doing here, Adrian, lurking behind these trees?” he scolded. He had been so anxious about the crime scene setup, he’d forgotten she had fled from the inn to head for the lighthouse.

Adrian brushed snow from her coat. “I could ask you the same thing since you’re supposed to be in the hospital.” She glared at Max, but then cushioned her tone. “I can’t sit around doing nothing. Like you, apparently. Celeste treated me better than my own mother.”

Max raised an eyebrow.

“She did,” Adrian said. “My mom was a religious fanatic who told me I was married for life. No amount of broken bones counted to change her mind.”

Adrian rattled on senselessly. Clearly her apprehension had distorted her thoughts and she seemed to ramble. Max leaned close to her and spoke in a quiet tone so his voice wouldn’t carry. He also wanted to sound soothing. “Although I know how you must feel, at this moment, you have something important to do.”

“That’s right. Help Celeste.” Adrian sounded defensive.

“No. You should be with the other women and children, especially your own children. They need your support and strong leadership. They need to know you’re okay. Celeste would want that.” He glanced at the officers moving about, itching to join them. “They must be frightened without you. Besides, you have no expertise in police matters. In fact, you could accidentally jeopardize their efforts.”

“But”—Adrian paused as tears began to well—“you don’t understand. I never had the guts to stand up to my husband. Now I have a chance to prove I’m not a coward and that I have the courage to help take down Chad Wilbanks.”

Max placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve shown how brave you are already tonight. You risked your life to get the other women and children to safety. And you came back here. You don’t need to prove yourself any more.”

“I should never have left Celeste alone in that house, even if the intruder hadn’t turned out to be Chad Wilbanks.” Adrian began sobbing. “I feel like I’ve abandoned her to the devil.”

Max put an arm around Adrian’s shoulder. “I feel that way, too. Still, you will be more help back at the inn. I’ll let you know as soon as we get Wilbanks.” He phrased that as carefully as possible. He wouldn’t let Adrian believe Celeste could be hurt. “Get back in that van and go to your children.”

Before Adrian could concede, Hunter walked up to them. “I just got a call from town. Priscilla Madden is the other woman found at the falls.”

“What?” both Max and Adrian asked simultaneously.

“She’s alive, but barely,” Hunter added.

“I can’t believe that.” Adrian shook her head. “She volunteered at the lighthouse. She counseled us. She wouldn’t betray Celeste. They’re good friends. Celeste thinks of her as a daughter, for God’s sake.”

“Hell.” Max slammed a fist into his hand and started peppering Hunter with questions.

Hunter listened calmly. When Max finished, he said, “She’ll be questioned when she’s able. Right now she’s in surgery. The clerk at the car rental agency identified a picture of her and said she rented the Explorer. He said she used the name Jane Sinclair.”

“Sinclair?” Max asked. “The name sounds familiar.”

“It should. We ran a check. She was one of Chad Wilbanks’s victims over ten years ago.”

“That’s sick,” Adrian said. “Priscilla couldn’t have known that. She’s not that way.”

“That’s beside the point,” Hunter continued. “She helped Chad get out of prison and here to the safe house. What does that say about her true character?”

Max nodded and said, “First of all, I agree with Adrian that Chad Wilbanks is sick. Who else could murder so many women and feel no remorse? Also, I think he or Lizzie Chatfield—”

“Priscilla’s best friend,” Adrian interrupted. “Sorry.”

“Yes, her friend must have had something on Priscilla for her to go so far against her usual honest and caring nature. The important question is, what?”

“It could have had something to do with her husband, or maybe Priscilla was only helping a friend,” Hunter offered.

“Could be. However, Celeste is her friend, too,” Max said. “Enough conjecture. We need to solve the problem facing us—getting Celeste out of that house in one piece.”

“Right,” Adrian said and inched toward the staging area.

“Not you.” Max gently grabbed her shoulders and turned her toward the van. “Go back to the inn like you agreed.”

“Okay. But let it be known it’s under protest.”

“I don’t care how you get there as long as it’s safely.” Max’s tone was stern, but fatherly.

Both men waited until Adrian drove the van onto the highway and they could see the taillights disappear. The worst of the blizzard had passed. Max could even hear the hum of snowplows in the distance.

The two men joined the others, including Eagle, at the command post. Hunter retrieved the bullhorn. “Well, here it goes. My first demand for the evening. Let’s hope it goes well and quickly.”

Max seriously doubted either would happen. Chad had too much at stake.

Hunter lifted the instrument and announced through it, “Chad Wilbanks, this is Sheriff Hunter. The lighthouse is surrounded. I am going to make a telephone call to the lighthouse. Please answer. We can talk this thing through. We don’t want any harm to come to you.”

Max cringed. He wanted to personally break every bone in Wilbanks’s body.

Hunter dialed his cell phone. The line was dead at the house. “No connection,” he said. “Either the storm knocked out the line or Wilbanks cut it.” He made a low growling noise of frustration.

Max felt like growling, too. If Hunter couldn’t make phone contact, he wouldn’t be able to negotiate Celeste’s release. “What do you propose to do?” Max asked.

“I’ll keep on using this high-tech bullhorn,” Hunter answered as he lifted the apparatus. “Maybe I can convince Wilbanks to use the throw phone, which is a better plan in the long run anyway. We’ll have total control with the phone lines and communications then.”

No sooner did Hunter lift the bullhorn to his mouth than another car sped onto the scene and slid to a stop precariously close to the sheriff’s SUV. Snow billowed in great gusts around the two vehicles. “Who the hell is that?” Hunter yelled as both he and Max turned toward the commotion. “What’s the point of a roadblock if every Tom, Dick, and Harry can get through?” he addressed a nearby deputy who responded by sprinting to the barricade.