Leave No Stone Unturned (A Lexie Starr Mystery, Book 1) (25 page)

"And coerced you into doing cocaine with him?"

There was a long stretch of silence before Clay spoke again. Even then, I could tell
it was with a great deal of embarrassment that he responded to my question.

"Maybe 'coerce' is not the correct word, Lexie, but, yes, Jake did convince me to
try cocaine. And I'm sorry to admit that I really liked it. I was one of those instant
addicts you hear about. I know you must be very disappointed in me, and I apologize.
It's been tough, but I've succeeded in kicking the habit. I've been clean for a while
now, I promise."

"Good for you, Clay," I said with sincerity. "The important thing now is to find Wendy.
We think Jake's most likely taken her to his cabin in the mountains."

"Yes, I agree that taking her there would be something he'd do. Jake was very fond
of his uncle Bill, the guy who left the cabin to him. Bill was the only foster father
he had for any length of time, or at least that's what he told me. He said he lived
in a lot of different foster homes when he was a kid, and none of them could handle
him. I guess he was bitter and rebellious from being abandoned by his mother and belittled
and knocked around by his father. His real father sounded almost as mean and abusive
as mine."

As interesting as I found the discussion about Jake's childhood, I knew time was of
the essence. The three men sitting around me were staring at me with impatience.

"Clay, can you tell me how to get to Jake's cabin?" I asked, changing the subject
back to Jake and Wendy's current whereabouts.

"Yes, I can try, but it's almost impossible to explain over the phone. There's an
eagle etching on the door that makes the cabin easy to spot once you get close to
it, but getting close to it is an entirely different matter. You have go to the outfitting
outpost outside of DeKalb and drive north. Then you turn left at an unusually large,
gnarly tree, and turn left again at a sheer rock ledge. You go a ways down a narrow,
winding gravel road, then left once more by the old footbridge, before bearing right
at a certain fork in the road, and on and on," Clay said. He sighed in frustration.
"I know all the landmarks to look for, but I couldn't really describe them to anyone.
If you tried to follow my directions, you'd be hopelessly lost before you knew it,
I'm afraid."

I was repeating a lot of what Clay told me to Stone, Ron, and Andy. Andy now motioned
for me to hand him Stone's cell phone.

"Clay, this is Andy Van Patten, Stone's nephew. I'm helping them try to locate Wendy.
We need you here to lead us to that cabin. Listen carefully. You'll need to go to
a different gate in another terminal, most likely. I'll have a pilot there, waiting
to fly you to an executive airport here in Boston. I'll have to make the arrangements
first, and then I'll call you right back with the details. Okay?"

We abandoned what remained of our sandwiches and headed out to our rental car. Andy
was talking to his friend named Josh as we pulled away from the curb. Andy had told
us that Josh owned a small commuter service in New York City. Andy ended the call
to Josh and began to dial Clay's number, which he'd scribbled across the back of his
hand. While he waited for the connection, he told us Josh had agreed to shuttle Clay
to Boston, where we'd leave the rental car and board Andy's Cessna. Andy would fly
the five of us back to Schenectady County Airport. From there we'd all take Click's
squad car to the cabin in the woods. With any luck at all, Jake would be holding Wendy
there, and she'd be unharmed when we swarmed in like the cavalry to rescue her. I
sent up a prayer that Jake would surrender and hand her over to us peacefully.

As we drove toward the executive airport, I borrowed Stone's phone and called Harriet.
I knew she was worried and concerned, and I wanted to keep her abreast of what was
happening. I made a mental note for myself that the first thing I'd do when I returned
home to Kansas was to buy my own digital cell phone. I'd never realized how handy
they were, in general, and how crucial they could be in a crisis.

I leaned back in the seat and took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm my nerves.
Although I knew I should be experiencing a sense of relief that things were falling
so smoothly into place, I couldn't shake the sense of foreboding I was feeling.

Chapter 26

The Clayton Pitt we picked up at the executive airport in Boston was a different man
from the Clayton Pitt I'd known before. Gone was the cockiness and pretentiousness
that never failed to get under my skin. An unassuming, timid attitude, and an apparent
lack of self-confidence that wouldn't allow Clay to look me in the eye had replaced
his old demeanor.

After Clay disembarked from Josh's plane, we all quickly made our way to Andy's plane,
still parked in the hangar where we'd left it earlier. Andy shook hands with Josh,
as did Ron and Stone, and after we had all expressed our appreciation to the young
pilot, we climbed into the small Cessna.

"Anything new to report?" Clay asked once we had taken off and reached our cruising
altitude. His question was not addressed to any one of us in particular. It was just
a general inquiry that hung in the air for a few seconds before Stone finally responded.

"I don't think we know anything more than you do at this point."

"Oh."

"Can you tell us about how long it takes to get to the cabin from downtown Schenectady?"

"Just over an hour, I'd say."

"That will put us there just before dusk. It's been a long day already, but I don't
think we have the option of putting this off until tomorrow, do you Ron?" Stone asked.

"No, I'm not willing to risk it. I want to go straight to the cabin, however long
it takes. Clay, tell us about how the cabin is situated. Is there a way to approach
it without being detected well in advance? Jake will be armed, I'm sure, and we don't
want to put Wendy's life in jeopardy, or be sitting ducks ourselves."

"The cabin sits in a clearing," Clay said. "There's some foliage in the rear of the
cabin, but it's not dense like it is in much of the surrounding forest. There are
no windows on the north side of the cabin, so if we approach it from that side we
shouldn't be as easily detected. We'll want to park behind the timberline though,
and sneak in from there, so Jake can't hear the car's engine. There's a rock well
on the northwest corner, about fifty feet or so from the cabin. It may offer us some
protection if we can get close enough to duck behind it."

"Okay, that's good." Ron said. "The rock well—how big an area are we talking about?
Is it big enough for all of us to take cover behind?"

"The well isn't all that big, but there's a rock wall running along beside it that's
at least three feet tall, and ten or twelve feet wide. We can all easily crouch behind
it."

"Anything else? What kind of weapons might we expect him to have with him?"

"Jake owns a deer rifle that he leaves at the cabin. He also owns a Colt forty-five,
a double-action six-shooter. He keeps it loaded and carries it around under the driver's
seat of the Mustang."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"According to Jake, it's for protection if a drug deal goes down bad."

"Does he deal?"

"No, but he buys, and uses—a lot. He usually gets his crack, cocaine, and amphetamines
from some guy he's known for awhile."

"Who's the guy?"

"Don't know, and never asked. I never met the guy, and Jake never volunteered to introduce
us. I tried not to get too involved in that scene. Once in a while Jake would buy
it on the street when he was in desperate need of a fix. He bought the Colt after
he got his jaw dislocated one night. Owed some dude a bunch of money and couldn't
come up with it when the dude tried to collect it from him. The guy sent a couple
of his goons to give Jake an attitude adjustment."

"Where did you buy your coke?" Ron asked.

Clay had the decency to look ashamed, but he answered quickly. "It was mostly crack.
And I got it all from Jake, although it was only on rare occasions. I was enrolled
in the police academy and couldn't afford much at the time, anyway. And I'd have to
lay off it whenever I knew it was almost time to piss in the jug. If there was anything
predictable about the academy, it was their 'random' drug tests—first Monday, every
other month, like clockwork. Jake didn't charge me rent to stay at his place, which
is why I took him up on his offer. I guess I should have questioned his generosity."

"I would have thought so," Ron said. "But that's past history now."

* * *

We all piled into Ron's car and drove to the sheriff's office in DeKalb. Sheriff Crabb
was going to follow us out to the cabin. Detective Glick wanted to have at least two
armed officers on the scene, and Sheriff Crabb deserved to be involved in the final
capture of the murder suspect in a case in his jurisdiction.

When we pulled up to the curb in front of his office, we saw the sheriff sitting in
his car, waiting for us. Standing outside his rolled-down window talking to him was
Harriet, smoking a cigarette and sharpening a buck knife with a whetstone.

"Harriet!" I yelled out. "What are you doing here?"

If she heard me, she didn't bother to respond. She waved the buck knife at me and
jumped into the passenger seat of Sheriff Crabb's car. Stone gave me a questioning
glance, and I just shrugged my shoulders at him. One thing we'd both learned in the
last few days was that Harriet was unpredictable.

"When I called Harriet, she told me she'd been on the back porch, carving her gigantic
pumpkin into a jack-o'-lantern," I said. "She must have brought the carving knife
along for protection."

"Reckon her 'pappy' never told her she shouldn't take a knife to a gunfight?" Stone
asked, a humorous glint in his eyes.

"Maybe not. Or maybe her 'mudder' told her if she planned to show up someplace uninvited,
she shouldn't show up empty-handed." I had returned his playful banter with some of
my own, but suddenly his words sunk in and I became alarmed. "Oh, Stone. You don't
really think this confrontation will involve gunfire, do you?"

"I think there's a good chance it could result in violence of some kind, Lexie. Jake
has a lot to lose at this point. He's apt to go down fighting. That's why I'd like
for you to stay behind and let us men handle it. Okay? It's no place for women. You
and Harriet would be safer waiting in the car."

"No, it's not okay. I can't speak for Harriet, but this woman is not going to cower
in the car while you men risk life and limb to rescue my daughter. I would lay down
my life for my child, Stone, and nothing is going to keep me in this car while her
safety is in jeopardy. I'm sorry. I really am. But don't waste your breath trying
to convince me to stay in the car, 'cause it's just not going to happen."

"Oh, all right," he said in a resigned voice. "Somehow I knew you'd say that. Just
promise me you won't try anything risky."

"I can't promise you anything. But it's not in my nature to intentionally place myself
in harm's way unless I can see no other alternative. Is that good enough for you?"

"I guess it will have to be." Stone sighed and shook his head. "I don't imagine I'll
fare any better trying to convince Harriet."

On the drive out of town I felt compelled to ask Clay some questions that had been
nagging at me. He was open and forthright with his answers.

"How come you never visit your mother anymore?" I asked.

"I do visit her. Every time I'm in town. I call her about once a week too."

Clay sounded sincere and I believed him. Wanda's mental illness must prevent her from
acknowledging or remembering her son's attentive devotion to her. I began to doubt
anything she had told me was accurate.

"How about your father? Is he in prison?"

Clay snorted, rolled his eyes, and said, "Not that I know of, but he probably should
be. My father is a sociopath and is highly delusional. Whenever I was around him in
the past, he became hostile and belligerent. When I was growing up, he was abusive
to both my mother and me. He's always treated me as if I was some kind of threat to
him. After he drove my mother insane, literally, I had to move out on my own to get
away from him. I was fifteen. Lied about my age to get into the Navy at sixteen. After
about a year, I was tired of living on the streets. I got my GED while I was in the
service."