Terry Odell - Mapleton 01 - Deadly Secrets (28 page)

Megan leaned away from the wall, trying to relieve the pressure on her wrists. Rose sat, tight-lipped on the bed, glowering at Buzz Turner. Silence filled the room like a heavy fog.

“I said, talk,” Buzz said. He pounded his fist against his thigh. “Where is it?”

Sam spoke, his voice calm, but there was no mistaking the fury behind it. “I have told you, I know nothing about a letter, a book, or anyone named Henry Carpenter.”

Megan shot a glance at Justin. He shook his head a fraction. Rose gasped. Megan snapped her head around. Buzz had the knife at Rose’s throat again.

“Stop! Don’t hurt her. We might have what you want,” she said. Justin’s nod confirmed her decision. “In my purse. A letter. It’s not important enough to die for.”

“I’m sorry, Opa,” Justin said. “I wanted to spare you, but if I’d asked at the beginning, this might not have happened.”

“You’re speaking nonsense,” Sam said. “Spare me from what?”

Buzz was digging through Megan’s purse, his eyes gleaming when he found the folded papers. He snatched them out, opened them and read. He tossed one to the floor—Gordon’s cover page, she assumed, then stared at the next sheet. Then the next, and the next. His fists clenched. He pounded his thigh again, still holding the knife. Megan wished he’d turn it around and stab himself. He threw the sheets of paper on the bed. “What is this gibberish? You read German, old man?”

“Without my glasses I can read nothing,” Sam said.

“What about you?” Buzz asked Rose.

She shook her head.

“Damnation, where are they?” Buzz brandished the knife, then pounded his thigh again.

Megan sucked in a breath.
At least he’s not hitting Rose
.

Sam straightened with as much dignity a man in his position could convey. His tone was firm. The one he’d used when she’d wanted a too-expensive toy, or later, when he wouldn’t let her get a motorcycle. “If you hadn’t been so eager to lure us from the hotel with your tale of Megan being captured again, we might have had time to collect our things. My glasses are in the pocket of my coat, which is in the closet of our room. Our hotel room. In Denver.”

“And mine are on the night table,” Rose said, her chin lifted in defiance. “Also in Denver.”

“You’ve got to have a spare pair,” Buzz said.

“I saw them,” Megan said. “Downstairs, when we were cleaning up the mess.”

“I don’t think so,” Rose said, then glared at Buzz. “I went through the mess
you
left.”

“No, Rose, I saw them.” When Rose turned to her, Megan shot her a pleading look.
Play along.
“They must have fallen out of the drawer on the end table by the couch.”

“Ach,
ja
,” Sam said, seeming to understand. “You know how you’re always misplacing them.”

Rose clamped her mouth shut. Megan tried not to let her relief show.

“So, where are they now?” Buzz asked.

“I don’t know,” Justin said. “Could be they’re in the end table. Or maybe there’s a pair in Sam’s study somewhere.”

“Wait,” Rose said. “I think maybe I had mine in the kitchen. When I was paying bills.”

“Cut me loose and I’ll help you,” Megan said. She tried to look as helpless as possible. Not a stretch. Her muscles were already starting to tighten. She knew he’d never release Justin.

Buzz scowled. “I assume you’re kidding. You’re staying right where you are. All of you. And if I hear a sound, it’s back to the duct tape.”

He left, taking the knife. Yeah, as if he’d leave it behind so they could cut themselves free.

“Are you okay?” she whispered. Buzz had taped Rose and Sam’s hands, wrists crossed, in front of them, and Sam was already gnawing at his bonds.

“Trussed like turkeys in our own home?” Rose said. “That’s hardly okay, but we’ll think of something.”

“Try to start a tear, Opa,” Justin said. “You can’t stretch the tape enough to get it over your hands.”

Sam mumbled something unintelligible and kept working. Rose bounced to the edge of the bed and clawed her fingers on the night table drawer.

“What are you looking for?” Megan asked. “Your glasses?”

“Nail clippers,” Rose said. “Mr. Turner shouldn’t assume because we’re old, we’re helpless. Or stupid.” She hissed. “But with my wrists crossed, it’s hard to make my fingers work properly.”

“Careful.” Megan squirmed, trying to get to her feet, but with her hands behind her and her ankles taped, she couldn’t get the leverage she needed to do more than roll to her side. She was afraid to work too hard, for fear Turner would hear her. “We have to be quiet. I think he’s the man who killed Betty Bedford.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Rose said. “And they say it gets easier to kill each time. We need to be careful we don’t upset him. He seems rational until things don’t go his way.” She wriggled around, trying to get a better grip on the drawer pull. “
Scheisse
.”

“Shh,” Justin said. “Did you hear something? A car out front?”

She strained to listen. Yes, an engine’s rumbling. Did she see lights through the narrow gap in the curtain?

Seconds later, Buzz swept into the room. He snatched the letter and shoved it into his pocket. He plucked Rose from the bed, clamping a hand over her mouth. He paused at the doorway and shot them a threatening scowl. “Not a word if you want to see her alive.” He slammed the door behind him.

Gordon listened to Vicky McDermott’s report as he wheeled out of the parking lot toward the Kretzers’.

“I ran the plates on the car in the driveway. It’s Megan’s rental. I checked the garage, and the Kretzers’ car is there too. The curtains are drawn, but there are lights on.”

Which fit with Solomon’s report that nothing looked amiss. “So why are you concerned?”

“I knocked on the door. No answer. And the tape is down. It feels…wrong. That’s when I called you.”

From the determination in her tone, she was making up for her perceived guilt at missing the Bedford killer until it was too late. He wouldn’t discount Vicky’s unease. Cops became sensitized to things feeling “off.” And, unlike Angie, they were right more often than not.

“Get Dispatch to roll another unit. And wait for me. Don’t move without backup.”

He had a flash of panic when his car wasn’t in its slot, before he remembered it was at Lou’s garage. Shit. He regrouped. Went inside, checked out a cruiser, let Irv know where he’d be.

On the drive over, he concentrated on a plan. A Well Being check wasn’t out of the ordinary. Elderly residents not answering the door. But if their killer was inside, would that spook him? Would that exacerbate the problem? Was there a problem? Maybe they were all in bed. He pulled alongside Vicky’s cruiser. Worry etched her face. Rolling down his window, he twirled his finger, letting her know he was going to do a quick circle. There were a lot of hiding places in the wooded acreage behind the house. Visions of Rose and Sam Kretzer duct-taped to chairs, their throats sliced open, ran through his head. He knew Vicky’d been thinking the same thing since she called him.

He wound his way along the meandering street surrounding the tree-filled space. His heart rate accelerated when lights appeared in the darkness, making him cut his eyes away from the sudden brilliance. Car headlights? They moved, confirming his guess.

No way he could intercept the car from his position. He keyed his radio and alerted Vicky. “It should be coming your way. Follow it, run the plates. Let me know. I’m going to check the house.”

“What about backup?” Vicky said.

“Get the plates, update Dispatch, and have them route backup to you. If that’s our bad guy in the car, then he’s not in the house.”

“You shouldn’t go in alone. What if it was only some kids making out in the woods? He could be in there.”

A perfectly legitimate question, and until a few days ago, the most logical assumption. Now, Gordon went with his gut. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take. Find out who’s in that car. That’s an order.”

“You want me to pull it over?”

“Not without backup. If it’s kids, let ‘em get away with it this time, and get back here.”

“Roger. But I haven’t seen any vehicles yet.”

Damn. Why had he assumed the driver would be stupid enough to drive out in front of the Kretzers’? Even kids would avoid driving past a marked cruiser.

“Vicky, get over to Maple and Third. Any car in this area’s going to have to drive past there.”

“What am I looking for?”

“No idea. All I could see was headlights. Run ‘em all.”

“On it.”

By now, he’d circled the perimeter and hadn’t seen anything suspicious. He killed the lights as he pulled his cruiser along the curb, stopping about twenty yards from the Kretzers’ driveway.

He updated Dispatch and got out of the car. The front door was locked. He unsnapped his holster and worked his way to the rear. No open windows. No movement. No sounds.

The porch light illuminated the back door. The wide-open door.

He drew his weapon. “Police! Come out! Hands where I can see them!” His voice seemed to echo through the empty space. His own heartbeat pounded in his ears. He stood alongside the open doorway, controlling his breathing, visualizing the layout of the house. “Rose? Sam? Megan? Justin?”

“Gordon? Upstairs. He’s got Rose!” Megan’s voice.

He bolted for the stairs, then edged his way up, flattening himself against the wall. Gut feeling or not, there was no point in painting a bull’s-eye on his chest if Buzz was lying in wait, threatening Megan to say what he told her.

“Where are you?” he called.

“Rose and Sam’s bedroom.” Justin’s voice conveyed anger more than fear. “We’re alone. But Buzz Turner took Rose.”

“Hang on.” Gordon cleared each room before entering the master suite. “One second.” He did a check of the closet and bathroom before moving to Sam’s side. Using his Leatherman, he slit the tape at Sam’s wrists and ankles. “Sorry. Couldn’t take any chances someone was still in here.”

“Understood,” Sam said. “Don’t worry about us. You must find Rose. The man is crazy.”

Gordon released Megan, then Justin. “We’re working on it. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”

“No,” all three uttered in unison.

Sam swung his feet over the edge of the bed and wiped his jaw. “He said he would hurt her if we talked.”

“That was to keep us quiet while he was downstairs searching,” Megan said.

“For what?” Gordon asked. “Did he tell you?”

“Rose or Sam’s reading glasses so they could read and translate the letter,” Justin said.

“Not that he would have,” Sam said. “You did an excellent job of sending him off to find the wild goose.” He stood, and Megan rushed to his side to support him. “He obviously wasn’t paying attention when he was ransacking the place, or he’d have found them himself.”

“Where?” Megan asked.

Sam pointed to the dust cover surrounding the box spring. “One of Rose’s sewing projects.” He smiled. “That’s my spare pair. They never leave this room.”

Gordon stepped to where Sam pointed, finding a small quilted contraption with two pockets—one the size of a paperback, and a narrower one that held a pair of readers. Made from the same fabric and stitched to the cover itself, Gordon hadn’t noticed it when he’d helped Justin replace the mattress.

“All I wanted was to get him out of the room,” Megan said. “Good thing I didn’t know about this, or I’d probably have told him. I was so afraid he’d hurt you.”

“You don’t give in to bullies,” Sam said. His tone said he was talking about more than Buzz Turner’s threats. “Please, go find Rose.”

“Wait,” Justin said to Gordon. “The letter. You have the original. Can we get a copy?”

There might be some leads in the letter. “Good idea. I’ll take care of it.”

“I can go to the station and get it,” Justin said. His expression told Gordon he was trying to make sure nobody else saw it before he turned it over to Sam.

“No need. I’m going to want someone here with you in case Buzz calls. They’ll bring it.” Gordon was already concerned that he hadn’t heard from Vicky. “I’ll make the copy personally. I need to get to the station and coordinate the search.”

He went to the bed, where Sam sat, head down, fists clenched. Gordon set a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’ll get her back. You have my word. Buzz Turner will pay.”

Sam met his eyes, his expression grim. “I trust you.” A tiny smirk flashed across his mouth. “Maybe you should be worried that Mr. Turner will need rescuing from Rose.”

Gordon gave Sam’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You may be right.” He turned to Megan who approached him and gave him a quick hug. Justin hadn’t moved from the floor. “You okay?”

Justin gazed past him to Sam. “Yeah. Fine.”

Gordon went over and extended a hand, hoisting Justin to his feet.

Justin chafed his wrists. “Megan, stay here with Opa. I’ll see Gordon out.”

Gordon followed Justin downstairs. He paused at the front door. “We’re going to catch Turner and bring your grandmother home.”

“I know. It’s the other part I’m having trouble dealing with. Telling Opa about everything.”

“Don’t underestimate him. I’ll get that letter over right away.” Gordon shook Justin’s hand. “Lock up. Back door too.” Gordon strode toward the cruiser, keying the radio as he walked. “Vicky. Report.”

“We’re working on it. We had four cars come by. Three residents and one rental.”

“Who’s the rental?”

“We’re waiting to hear from the company.”

Had to be Turner. “Give Dispatch the details. Have them put out a lookout order on the rental. And on the secure channel.”

Vicky might have wondered why he wasn’t waiting to see who’d rented the car, but she didn’t hesitate. And after she’d reported, Gordon got on the radio himself. “Irv, call in all available personnel. War room. Yesterday. And keep eyes open for Buzz Turner and Rose Kretzer.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gordon grabbed his cell and called Colfax.