Weaving The Web: A Cold Hollow Mystery (Cold Hollow Mysteries Book 2) (14 page)

CHAPTER 17

Around eight in the morning, the sky began filling with dark, ominous clouds, threatening a vicious thunderstorm. Robert Collins groaned. He could not remember the last ingredient for the one of the dishes on the menu for the evening crowd. This meant he would have to go to the little prick’s house and ask him if he had saved it from the class they briefly took together. He shut the door to his truck and drove to Warren’s Measly’s house, hoping he would catch him before he left for work or before walking his dog. He didn’t need to worry about the girls. Becky had already brought her sister to work at the bakery, and then she was going to check on the nursery and its two workers.

As he pulled into the driveway beside the farmhouse, he saw Warren loading something rather large into the trunk of what Robert assumed was his car, which was a relic but in surprisingly good shape. Robert parked his truck and got out. He approached Warren to see if he could help him when he noticed the package was in the shape of a body. A wrap fell off the head, and Robert froze. “What the hell! What the…” His words died in his throat when he recognized the distorted face of Carla Macy. Robert’s temper soared as he lunged at Warren. Warren sidestepped him and tore out of the driveway on foot. Robert jumped to his feet and raced after him.

Robert noticed Sylvia Rossini and her boyfriend, Officer Cutler, driving past on their way to work and flagged them down. He pointed and shouted, “He killed Carla Macy! Chase him down!”

Ted pulled over and received the short version of what had just transpired. Robert watched Ted expertly turn his car around and floor the gas pedal in the direction Warren Measly was running.

Robert wasn’t giving up and was chasing on foot as fast as he could in case the little man dodged down an alley. As he pumped his arms, he prayed Ted was radioing it in so they could get some help. The sky opened up, and the roar of mountain thunder came crashing down, along with a torrential downpour. Robert managed to see Warren turn down Main Street and followed him. His clothes were soaked and sticking to his body, and his arms pinwheeled as he took the corner and ran past Myrna and Sarah as Myrna was allowing Sarah into the bakery for her shift. Myrna called out after him, “What is going on?”

Robert ran his hand over his face to wipe the rainwater away and spit some from his mouth. He panted, pointed ahead of him, and screamed, “I’m chasing a killer!”

Myrna shoved Sarah inside the shop, told her to lock the door, and radioed the chief. Within moments, the chief pulled up to the curb, and Myrna leapt into the car beside him.

Officer Ted Cutler watched Warren running and gunned the car as the windshield wipers fought to keep his vision acute. He asked Sylvia, “You know the plan, right?”

Sylvia nodded, and the moment Ted pulled over to the curb, she leapt from the car and climbed up the nearest tree. She watched as Ted grabbed the rifle from his trunk, attached the scope, and loaded two shells in it. He threw the gun up into the tree to her. “Wound him. Don’t kill him.” She nodded, snatched it up, held her forefinger to the air, and lay flat on a thick limb. She had to adjust the scope a few times and aim through the leaves on the tree, not to mention the downpour. When she was ready, she inhaled, and when she exhaled, she pulled the trigger. Her first shot missed, but her second shot hit home.

Warren had been about two hundred yards out, and he came crashing down with a skid and a screech. Sylvia dropped the gun down to Ted and watched him wipe down her prints and put his own on it. She leapt from the tree and scooted back inside his car. She had gotten a little wet, but it couldn’t be helped. At least the tree had provided her some shelter, so she quickly ran a brush through her hair and tried to fluff the moisture out of it.

When the chief pulled up behind Ted’s car, Ted pocketed his cloth and pointed over to where Warren had landed. “Better hurry over there, Chief. Robert Collins is about to beat him senseless.”

The chief eyed him and said, “You wait right here and protect Myrna. We’ll talk about this later.” He eyed the rifle Ted was holding and saw Sylvia in the passenger’s seat of his car before leaving to see to Warren.

When he saw Warren, on the ground unconscious and bleeding, he called in for an ambulance. He had to stop Robert from pummeling Warren’s face into the pavement, and it nearly took a crowbar to pry him off, but the man had managed to get some accurate punches in. Warren’s face was already starting to swell. If the chief wasn’t mistaken, Robert Collins was crying as he struck Warren for the last time and stepped away. His chest was heaving from the exertion.

After the ambulance pulled away with Warren in the back, the chief radioed for a man to meet the ambulance at the hospital and stand guard. He made sure Robert Collins had already calmed down and checked him for injuries before telling him to get in his cruiser and out of the rain.

“Come with me.” They walked back to his patrol car; the chief seated Robert in the front seat of his cruiser and shut the door.

He turned around and stared at Ted, while pointing at the gun he held. He let loose an ear-erecting bark: “Son, you couldn’t shoot the pecker off a possum at close range! Am I supposed to believe
you
shot Warren in the leg to bring him down at two hundred yards?”

Ted stared at the wet ground and said, “Yes, sir.”

The chief rolled his eyes and looked at Myrna. She was standing beneath a tree with his morning newspaper over her head. “Ted will bring you back to the bakery. When you get there, bring Sarah with you to your office. Call her sister and have her come to your office too.”

Robert cleared his throat and said from the cruiser, “I know the girls. Perhaps it would help if I were there too?”

The chief turned and leaned into the half-open window of his vehicle. He nodded. “It’s imperative you be there.” He motioned at Myrna. “We’ll be along in about an hour.”

Myrna stood with her mouth open. “Please tell me it’s not who I think it is.”

As the chief was sliding into his squad car, he glanced over his shoulder. “It is.”

Her eyes welled, and tears spilled down Myrna’s cheeks as she got into Ted’s cruiser. She had the worst history with making and keeping friends. Slamming the rain soaked newspaper down on the seat beside her, she yelled, “I can’t make any friends, not one! They all end up dead!” Her hands clenched into tight fists.

Sylvia tried to reach behind her, but the section was caged off. She pushed some tissue through the squares and spoke. “I’m sorry, Mayor. I’m just so sorry.” She watched Myrna nod as she reached for the tissue and began to dab at her eyes.

***

As the chief and Robert drove to Warren’s house, Robert asked, “What’s going to happen to her kids?”

The chief sighed and said, “It will depend on you. We’ll discuss it at the mayor’s office.”

Robert sat back, confused, but as they pulled into Warren’s driveway, the chief asked, “What were you doing here?”

“I was going to ask Warren about a recipe we both learned in the rehab facility, but I never got the chance. When I arrived, he was trying to shove her body in the trunk of his car.”

The chief parked his car and retrieved his evidence kit from the trunk. He went over to the scene, careful not to let Robert interfere, took pictures, and put on some gloves. As he loosed the wraps around Carla’s once-beautiful face, he gasped and jumped back. Robert watched him close his eyes and reach for his radio.

Robert’s tears ran silently as he stared at Carla and listened as the chief called for the coroner. He then listened as the chief called the car lot attendant to come and impound Warren’s vehicle. Robert couldn’t help but feel guilty about Carla’s death. Had he taken the initiative and pursued a relationship with her, this might have never happened.

The chief disrupted his contemplation and said, “Robert, I can feel your anger steaming off your body right now, so help me out, would you?” Something didn’t make sense to the chief, and he walked around the car and stared at Robert. His brow was furrowed. “I need to tell you something, and it stays between us. You hear me?”

Robert agreed and listened as the chief explained the GPS systems on town vehicles and why they’d had them installed. Robert didn’t seem fazed and asked, “What has this got to do with Warren?”

The chief pounded the roof of Warren’s car. He noticed the car didn’t have dust on it anymore. “We have two people dead, and our GPS did not pick up on this car ever leaving this barn! He obviously used it to kidnap her on the Fourth of July and was about to use it again!”

Robert entered the barn and searched, careful not to disturb anything. He noticed a roll board leaning against the barn wall; hanging beside it was a mechanism he wasn’t familiar with. He pointed at it. “I’ve never seen these. Do they look like this?”

The chief swiped the thing off the wall and said, “Yep. The little cretin disabled it. I missed it last time I was here, damn it! Go and get in your truck and wait there while I finish up.”

Robert did as he was told and sat in his truck, sullen.

After gathering more evidence, the chief went inside Warren’s home and calmed the dog down. It wasn’t barking anymore but looking around frantically for Warren. The chief gathered the dog’s toys, food, bowls, leash, and bed. He walked him to the squad car and put him in the back seat before reentering the home.

He made his way down to Warren’s basement and noticed a door had been left open to a small room that had previously held shelves and canned goods. What he saw sickened him, more so, the stench. There was a dirty urine puddle and liquid excrement on the floor. On the wall hung what appeared to be a huge, elaborate spider web made of silk. The chief put gloves on and tugged at the web to find it ironclad. He gathered more evidence and bagged it, left the web hanging, and took pictures of the entire room. As he turned to leave the small room, he noticed a small, dark bottle tucked in one corner on the floor. It had a cork in its top and a hospital pharmacy label on it. He knew Warren had recently been to the hospital for a psychiatric appointment, so he bagged it and labeled it as evidence.

When the coroner gathered up Carla Macy, the chief returned to his squad car and pulled out of the driveway. Robert Collins followed him in his truck.

The chief was furious with himself. They had been conducting house-to-house searches and were only two houses down from Warren’s. He felt responsible for Carla’s death. Because he had already searched Warren’s home before, he had been convinced they wouldn’t find anything. The little rat bastard had outsmarted him. At least they had him in custody now.

He would have to call the district judge once all the evidence was processed so a trial could be held. Cold Hollow had no courthouse, so he concluded the judge would probably force him to transport the prisoner to the next town over, approximately one hour away. Chief Hanover knew finding twelve objective jurors in Cold Hollow was never going to happen, so it was just as well. What he was wondering about was what he was going to do with the damn dog.

***

Ted brought Myrna to the bakery, and she thanked him as he let her out of the squad car. When she turned around, Sarah and her sister Becky were already inside her establishment.

As she entered the bakery, Myrna approached the girls as they sat at one of the tables. Sarah spoke first. “I called my sister because I was scared. She drove my mom’s car here. Mom’s going to be mad about it. Becky only has a learner’s permit.”

Myrna shook her head. “She won’t be mad. Becky did the right thing.” Myrna pulled a chair up to the table and sat close to the girls. “We need to go over to my office at the town hall for a meeting with the chief.”

Becky spoke in a flat tone. “They found Mom, didn’t they?”

Myrna kept her tone soft and soothing as she replied, “They did, girls. I’m sorry.”

Becky gasped and shook her head. “No! She can’t be dead! Are you saying she’s dead?” Myrna gave a slight nod of her head, and Sarah screamed. Sarah screamed and cried long and hard as Myrna and Becky got up and held her in a tight embrace.

Becky growled while holding them. “Did they find the killer? Did they find the maniac? Is it the same guy who killed the farmer lady?”

“They caught him. He’s in the hospital under guard.”

She snarled, “Who was it?”

“The chief will tell us. It’s his job.”

***

Warren lay in his hospital bed after the wound to his leg had been treated. He had been told the bullet only grazed him, but it felt worse. His facial swelling had increased, but they had cleansed his wounds and applied the proper ointments. It was the bite mark on his left ear that hurt more than anything else did, and he found it ironic. He found himself cuffed to the bedrail and a police officer guarding his door. He stared at the ceiling as he assessed the mistake he had made. He had forgotten to knot off the wraps around Carla Macy’s face, thereby allowing Robert Collins a glance. A nurse was allowed through the doorway, and she put a pain pill in Warren’s mouth and helped him drink some water to flush the pill down his throat. He took it, if only so he could get some sleep. He hoped he would dream of his loyal dog, Hercules.

***