“Get a piece of paper.” Vicky spoke in her normal voice.
“What kind?” Theo tried to envision a way out. For a moment she considered just turning and punching Vicky. She ignored her impulse. That was suicidal. Daisy would either help or make things worse. She couldn’t take the chance.
“Don’t be stupid. You’re going to write a note. I don’t give a shit what you write it on.” Vicky glanced around the entryway before pushing Theo down the hall and into the kitchen.
Theo couldn’t think of a way to stall or hide the notepad on the counter next to the phone. It was a wide roll of adding machine tape in an oddly shaped holder. Chris made it in Cub Scouts. Tears flooded Theo’s eyes as she reached for the attached pen. Vicky dictated her message, watching to make sure Theo didn’t write anything else on the paper.
Vicky smiled. “Put it on the table along with your cell phone.”
Theo followed her instructions.
“Give me your cash and put the purse in the trash.” Her little rhyme amused Vicky and she repeated it several times, laughing after each time.
If Theo had thought Vicky was crazy before, she knew for certain now. She hurried, following Vicky’s instructions. The wallet held less than ten dollars. When Vicky reached for the cash, Theo lifted her eyes, looking at the clock on the microwave. Day camp was over. The boys would be looking for her. Maybe they had already called Tony. What if they were walking toward the house? Theo felt an icy chill and shuddered as she dropped her purse in the trash.
“Let’s go.” Vicky jabbed the barrel of her gun into Theo’s back. “Walk out the back door like nothing is unusual.”
Theo led the way. The moment she reached for the knob, Daisy began pacing in circles, barking again. It was the dog’s usual behavior when she wanted to go out, Vicky wouldn’t know what she wanted. “Not now, Daisy.” Theo tried to sound natural. It wasn’t working. Her voice was barely more than a squeaky whisper.
“Make it shut up.” Vicky waved the gun. “Now.”
Theo grabbed Daisy by the collar and wrestled the big dog away from the door. Once she and Vicky were outside and the door almost closed, Theo released her. Daisy began barking in earnest. At least she was safe. Unless Daisy jumped through a window, she would be there to greet the boys.
Theo felt the gun rub against her spine as they walked into the yard. A series of sharp pokes, rather than words, directed Theo across the grass and toward the creek. Like two old friends off for a walk, they moved without haste along the path. When they reached the next block with houses, Theo could see Vicky’s parked car. The homes in this part of town were all old and set on large lots with mature trees, making efficient spying on the neighbors impossible. Even if someone should see them from an upstairs window, there was nothing suspicious in their behavior.
What was Vicky planning? Terror made Theo’s stomach clench and she paused, bending over to throw up, accidentally scraping her face against an overgrown japonica bush. The vicious thorns ripped a red metallic thread from her patchwork vest.
Vicky laughed and prodded Theo unnecessarily, and none too gently, with the gun barrel. She reached into her pocket and dragged out the car keys. “You drive.”
Theo knew she should resist. She should scream. She should fight. Climbing into the car with a crazy person was stupid. She did it anyway.
“Too bad we can’t stay to watch the show.” Vicky glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Theo’s house. She leaned close and whispered, “I think it’s going to be lots of fun, don’t you?” She lit a cigarette and blew smoke into Theo’s face.
Theo gagged, exaggerating the sound and pressed the button, lowering the window.
“Don’t you dare puke in my car.” Vicky’s spittle landed on Theo’s arm.
“I need air.” Theo had a plan now. Whether or not it would work, she wouldn’t give up.
Vicky jabbed a fingernail into Theo’s rib. “Turn right here.”
Theo shivered and drove carefully, following Vicky’s instructions. As they left the town limits, headed toward the mountains, theirs seemed to be the only car on the road.
Tony waited at the table in the “greenhouse,” the interview room named for the bright lights and beige-tiled walls and floor. A drain set in the center of the floor completed the comparison.
Ruth Ann once claimed it would be perfect for growing things like African violets. Today, nothing as lovely as a flower passed through his thoughts.
Tony wrapped his laced fingers around the back of his neck and leaned his head against them. Marshaling his thoughts, he waited for Patti’s killer and his attorney to arrive. The photograph Wade obtained that morning was still in the paper bag, resting on the top of the file.
Mac and Carl Lee Cashdollar, his attorney, entered the tiny room. The two men sat, elbow to elbow, across from Tony. No one smiled. Mac stared at the paper bag, showing no sign of curiosity.
Wade checked the recorders. Satisfied that everything worked as intended, he remained standing next to the closed door.
“Is this you?” Ever so slowly, Tony lifted the bag and let the framed photograph slide onto the table. Mac’s eyes focused on the action. Tony could see in them a flash of pain and then nothing but despair, the moment Mac recognized himself standing with his arms wrapped around the deceased woman.
“Yes.”
“Did you kill her?”
“Yes.”
Carl Lee whispered something into his client’s ear but Mac shrugged it away. The game was clearly over. It was confession time. The attorney frowned. The decision was not his and he surrendered. His mournful blue eyes met Tony’s. “Might as well get my esteemed colleague, our prosecutor, down here.”
Tony made the call, relieved to learn Archie was available. Only minutes passed before the redheaded man charged into the room, briefcase in hand.
“Start from the beginning, Mac.” Tony made himself as comfortable as possible in the small room filled with his deputy, the suspect, two lawyers and himself. The place was taking on claustrophobic dimensions. Archie was the smallest of the five and he wasn’t exactly tiny. “You met Patti in Chattanooga?”
“Yeah. She was nice, you know, and I thought we had a good thing going. Food, fun, sex—you know, no strings, no commitment.”
“Did you know her husband had recently died?”
“Yeah. She was pretty broken up by his death and all, but still wanted to have some fun.” Mac curled his fingers into fists and rested them on the table. “Maybe I’m not the hero type, I’m not a bad guy, either. I don’t mess with kids or married women.” His shoulders rose and fell as he shifted on the uncomfortable chair. “I was married once and didn’t much care for it. My wife was okay. Too bad she brought along her folks, her sisters and her friends. Every damned one of them wanted a piece of me. I felt like I was hacked to death with a paring knife. When our divorce was final, I swore I would never marry again.”
“Did Patti know your feelings?”
“Oh, yeah. When we met, she was fun, sexy, not looking for a relationship. She said she couldn’t get pregnant. I was a fool and believed her.” Mac scraped a chip of mud from one of his knuckles onto his shorts. “Looking back, I think she was just looking for a stud to father a baby. When she told me she was pregnant, she said it was a miracle. A miracle? Hardly!” His eyes searched Tony’s as if looking for understanding. An angry flush stained his neck. “I doubt she even liked me very much. I didn’t have a prestigious job or anything. Suddenly she wanted to get married and swore we’d live happily ever after.”
Tony felt a grudging sympathy for the man. His story was not rare. In this case the result was disastrous for everyone involved. “You ran?”
“Like the weasel she accused me of being.” Shaking his head, Mac slid down on the base of his spine. “I didn’t want any part of her family plans.”
“Do you know how she found you?” Wade asked.
“No.” Mac’s confusion was obvious. “I did wonder.”
Wade showed him a newspaper clipping found on the front seat of Patti’s car. “She saw your photograph in the
Silersville Gazette
.”
“Is that how? I thought maybe she’d hired a private detective to track me down and make me do the decent thing.” He scrubbed his temples with the heels of his hands.
Tony felt a surge of impatience. He wanted the whole business cleaned up and closed. “Tell us what happened at the trailer. Was it your idea to meet her out there?”
“Hell, no.” Mac leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the cold steel table. “I went to the Okay with the guys for a beer after work. Then I left for my girlfriend Allison’s place. The shortcut between the two takes me right past the work site.”
“What time was this?” Tony watched as Wade wrote the information in his notes.
“Almost seven.” Mac’s eyes moved to his wrist as if he was checking an invisible watch.
“So, how long after you left the Okay did you drive past the museum?”
“Maybe five minutes.”
That sounded about right to Tony. “Why did you stop?”
Mac gave a half shrug. “I was almost past it when I saw Patti’s car parked out there. I recognized it, all right. She’s needed to have it painted for as long as I’ve known her.” Shaking his head in either disgust or despair, he paused. “If I’d kept on driving, nothing would have happened.”
“So what did happen?”
“I pulled in and parked next to her car. I glanced around and didn’t see her anywhere. Then I looked at the trailer door, it was ajar. The whole hasp had been pried off and dropped on the ground, discarded like a piece of junk.” Mac looked directly into Tony’s eyes. “That pissed me off. If it weren’t for that, I might have just walked inside and told her to leave, or gotten back in my car and gone to Allison’s. Your mom and aunt have been real good to me, always smiling and bringing cookies and iced tea out there and Gus ain’t a bad guy to work for neither. He’s fair and pays regular, you know.”
Tony nodded.
“I jerked the door open and got one foot inside when Patti went ballistic. It was a nightmare. She came at me like a wild animal. I didn’t know what she was doing there, and she couldn’t have been expecting to find me inside a locked trailer. I never heard anyone talk like that, much less a lady. The way she was carrying on about my causing her to lose our baby and something about the quilts belonging to her and not Doreen, and man, oh man, I don’t know what all she said. She was chattering a mile a minute and none of it made any sense to me. Then she made this screeching sound that made my hair stand on end. I never heard anything like that before.” He squeezed the edge of the table with his fingertips until they were bloodless, gripping it like a lifeline. “All of a sudden she jumped at me, her fingers like this.” Mac released the table long enough to form claws with his hands. “I was afraid she’d rip my eyes out.”
“What happened next?” Tony could guess. He needed to hear it from Mac.
“I reached behind me and picked up the first thing I could wrap my hand around and swung it, hoping to scare her so she’d let me go.” His face paled and his eyes roamed sightlessly around the room. “Next thing I knew, I looked down and she was lying there like some broken doll. Her eyes. Oh, God, her eyes were wide open, staring right at me over that evil-looking thing I hit her with, I didn’t mean to do it, you know.”
Tony heard an ominous gagging sound and pushed the empty paper bag across the table.
Mac grabbed it and opened it but took a deep breath instead of throwing up.
Tony glanced down and focused on a color photograph that had been under the bag. It was the initial photograph taken at the scene. Patti’s body with its hideous neck wound and staring eyes drew everyone’s attention. It was almost as awful as seeing it in person must have been. He heard Wade shifting positions behind him, and wondered if Wade might need a barf bag as well.
Mac composed himself, continuing to hold the unused bag. “What was that thing? At first I thought it was a scrub brush. Then I saw how it stuck in her neck and I ran outside to throw up.”
“So you killed her by accident,” said Carl Lee, not looking at his client. He stared at the sheriff and prosecutor.
“I believe that’s possible,” said Tony. “That was serious enough.” His eyes locked with Mac’s. “Then you covered it up. If it really was an accident, why’d you try to cover it up instead of calling it in?” Tony stared at Mac, torn between anger and understanding.
“I did try to hide it.” Mac scrubbed his face again with the heels of his hands. “What would you do? I knew no one would believe it was an accident, so I drove her car as deep into the brush as I could and then sort of fluffed the vines up behind me as I left.” Mac lifted his shoulders and let them fall. “It was stupid. My brain was scrambled. I remember thinking I didn’t need to hide her body. Then I thought if I did, I’d have time to sort everything out. I needed time.”
Wade placed a pen and a stack of paper on the table. “Just write it down the way you remember it.”
Mac nodded. He sat for a long time staring at the blank paper. As if operating without his input, his fingers flipped the ballpoint pen end over end. Finally, he released a deep sigh and began to write.
Tony’s cell phone rang, playing the calypso tune that signaled Theo’s phone. He stepped out of the greenhouse to take the call. “What’s up?”
“D-daddy?” Reedy and high-pitched, the voice belonged to Jamie. The fear in the little boy’s voice chilled him to the bone. Tony had often heard the expression. Now he knew such a sensation was possible. Jamie snuffled into the phone and Tony knew he was crying.
A flare of panic shot through him. “What’s wrong, son?” He forced himself to concentrate on calming the boy and not on any of the million possibilities ranging from funny to tragic. All of Jamie’s emergencies weighed as equals to the six-year-old.
“Where’s Mommy?” A juicy sob followed his question. “We can’t find her.”
Mommy?
Tony’s hand tightened on his phone. He signaled for Wade to come to the greenhouse door and pointed a finger at Mac. “Lock him up. I’ve got to go.”