A Memory Worth Dying For (25 page)

“Marti!” Marti turned to see Skyler run over to them. “Cynthia and I have to go to work at the clinic. There’s been an accident on the interstate, and they need our help. We probably won’t make it back before the picnic’s over. How about we meet in town and have lunch tomorrow? How does that sound?”

“That sounds good, Skyler. I’m sorry you’ll miss the picnic.”

“That’s okay. Not many single men here anyway.”

When Skyler left running, Marti and Daniel exchanged a smile.

“Hey, I could take you to town tomorrow. I have to go by the feed store anyway, and—”

“Daniel.”

Marti cringed inside. That grating, familiar voice.

Daniel and Marti both turned to see Veronica sashaying across the yard toward them.

“Veronica. Hey.”

Veronica slid up beside Daniel and gave him a showy kiss on the lips. “Hey, darling. Did you miss me?”

Marti fumed inside. Her teeth ground together so hard her jaw hurt.

“Of course,” said Daniel. “Chris and I bought a kite on the way over, and now he’s picking up pebbles. Hashtag: shells.”

Daniel looked at Marti and grinned. When she laughed at the private joke, Veronica’s eyes turned a frosty shade of green, and her nostrils flared.

“Did I hear you offering to take Marti to town tomorrow? You know we have that meeting with the pastor.” She turned to Marti. “I’m sorry, Marti, but you’ll have to find your own ride to town. Daniel and I have business to take care of.”

Veronica linked her arm in Daniel’s. “Come on, Daniel. Let’s check on Chris. I haven’t seen him all morning, and I’ve missed him so.”

“Okay.” Daniel turned to Marti. “I’ll work something out if you’d like a ride. Just let me know.”

Marti could feel Veronica’s protectiveness building and shook her head. “That’s okay. I’m not sure how long I’ll be. It’d be best if I took my own car.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind, let me know. See you later, Marti. I’m sure Chris will come get you when it’s time to fly the kite.”

“Thanks.” Marti’s stomach burned inside as she watched Veronica lead Daniel over to the lake. What felt like salt in a wound was the way Veronica stooped down to give Chris a huge bear hug and a kiss on the cheek. Daniel and Veronica each took one of Chris’ hands and lifted him into the air. His squeal traveled across the sand and pierced its way right into Marti’s heart. Again, she wondered at the similarities between “Unc’l Dan’l” and Veronica’s “adopted” baby boy.

FORTY-FIVE

“MR. RUSHING! MR. RUSHING!”

Max ran in the back door of the house and flew right past Gerald and Marti talking at the kitchen table.

“Hey, Max, I’m right here. What’s the trouble?”

Max’s face was all flushed, and he was out of breath.

“I found this note in the barn, and Zach’s missing.” He handed an oily piece of paper to Gerald, who took it carefully.

“What is it, Max?”

“Read it, sir.”

Gerald glanced at Marti and sighed. After cleaning up from the picnic, he was plumb tuckered out. He pulled out his reading glasses and read the note out loud.

“I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused her all these years. She didn’t deserve what I did to her. Guilt won’t let me live with what I’ve done.
Zach

Marti gasped.

“Marti? Are you okay?”

Her hands covered her mouth. “Do you think Zach might be talking about me?”

Gerald read the note again. “Well, it does sound like it fits, doesn’t it? But, did you even know Zach before?”

She shook her head.

“Max, do you have any idea what he meant?”

“No sir, but the backhoe’s gone too. Warren was supposed to work on the brakes this morning, but he came and told me it wasn’t in the equipment shed. I thought you or Daniel had moved it for the picnic, so I didn’t think about it anymore until now.”

“Well, if Zach left on the backhoe, he can’t be far. That old thing won’t travel more than fifteen miles an hour. Did you say the brakes needed work?”

“Yes, sir. They gave out yesterday. You couldn’t stop it if your life depended on it.”

“Take the truck and see if you and the boys can find him, Max. Look in the storage shed. Maybe he’s stacking the tables from the picnic. And look in the hay pasture—he could be hauling in a load of hay. If you find him, bring him back in the truck. I don’t want him driving the backhoe if the brakes are bad. I don’t know what that letter’s about, but when we find him, we’ll ask him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gerald patted Marti on the shoulder. “We’ll figure out what’s going on, Marti. If Zach is the one stalking you, we’ll find out why.”

Marti’s face was pale, but she returned a trembling smile and nodded.

Gerald left his breakfast and went to find Parker. Anita must have started on her spring cleaning projects, because he found Parker hanging up blinds that Anita had washed and dried with a towel. Parker’s two-year-old son Gavin was playing with blocks on the floor.

Gerald leaned over and touched the little boy on the nose. “Hello, Gavin. You sure have grown since I saw you last.”

The look on Parker’s face surprised Gerald. He looked like he’d been caught doing something illegal.

“Parker, have you seen Zach this morning?”

“No, sir. I was in town until about an hour ago. I had to go get Gavin from daycare. I’m sorry, sir.” He ducked his head and averted his eyes.

“It’s okay for you to have Gavin here, Parker. I know sometimes you and Anita have scheduling problems.”

Parker’s eyes searched Gerald’s. “Are you sure, sir? I didn’t want to keep him here, but we couldn’t find a babysitter, and—”

“It’s fine. Now, if you see Zach, tell him I’m looking for him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gerald gave him a calming look and walked out the back door. He was walking to the barn when the old white pickup came rumbling into the barnyard. It slid to a stop in front of Gerald, and Max leaped out—agitated about something.

“Mr. Gerald, Caleb found Zach at the bottom of the ravine in the back forty. The boys are rigging up a rope system to get him out.”

“Is he all right?”

“No, sir.”

Gerald turned to rush inside. “I’ll call 9-1-1.”

Max grabbed Gerald’s arm to stop him. “No, Mr. Gerald. It’s too late. He’s gone.”

Gerald’s face felt cold. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir. The backhoe fell on top of him.”

“Oh, no.”

“I already called 9-1-1, so they’ll be sending out the coroner.”

Gerald sat down on the chair sitting in the yard. His fists gripped the edge of the seat. “I don’t understand. We spent all last summer reinforcing that fence. Why didn’t the fence stop him?”

“I don’t know. It looks like he ran the backhoe right through the fence and off the cliff. After that note we found, some of the boys are wondering if it was suicide.”

“Suicide?” Gerald lowered his voice and leaned forward. “Max, you knew him better than anybody. Do you believe he could have been stalking Marti?”

“I don’t know, sir. Zach kept to himself most of the time, but even Houdini couldn’t be in two places at one time. I’m not sure Zach was gone enough to stalk anybody. He didn’t act like he was planning suicide either, but there were no skid marks on the ground where he went over. It doesn’t look like he touched the brake at all.”

“You said the backhoe had no brakes. Maybe he tried but they wouldn’t work.”

“If that was the case, Mr. Gerald, he would have had time to jump off before it reached the edge. Or he could have turned the thing away from the edge when he realized the brakes weren’t working.”

Gerald’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, Max. I’ll come out with the sheriff when he gets here. Go back and help the boys rig up the rope, but tell them not to touch anything until the sheriff says it’s okay.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gerald leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. Thoughts of the backhoe going over the edge of the cliff with Zach straddling the seat burned into his thoughts. Max was right. Zach would have known long before he reached the edge that the brakes were not working. That backhoe was as slow as a new born foal rising to his feet. Why didn’t Zach jump? Would they ever know the truth of what happened? And what about that note? Was Marti the one Zach mentioned?

FORTY-SIX

CLARA WATTING LEANED HER TALL
body up under the hood of her Tahoe as she watched steam bubble up from the engine. The water hose was still attached at both ends, but a gaping crack spewed steam that quickly covered everything under the hood in droplets of water.

Nothing was turning out as she’d planned. The man she was “requesting” money from—blackmail seemed like such a nasty word—seemed determined to ignore her demands. She’d put a scare into him. Maybe that would light a fire under his dillydallying.

But the bigger problem at the moment was getting to town. Maybe she could wrap tape around the water hose and make a temporary patch. Every good nurse had tape in a first-aid kit, and she just happened to have one in the trunk.

She examined the hose carefully, and what she discovered made her legs weak. The crack was not jagged, but a straight, even cut. The rubber had been sliced by something sharp. Had someone wanted her to run out of water? For what reason?

She lifted up her head and quickly scanned the landscape. The low mountains on either side of the road fell away to rolling hills. Only one area around her gave enough cover for someone to hide.

“Get a grip, Clara. How could he know the hose would break in this exact spot? There’s no way he’d know to hide around here. What? Did you think he’d be hiding in the bushes somewhere?”

Talking aloud to the car eased her tension but couldn’t take away the knot in her stomach.

Patching the long slit in the hose was out of the question. Now what was she going to do?

She glanced at the road behind her and saw a black truck parked on the side of the road just inside the curve of the mountain she had passed a moment before. That truck hadn’t been there when she crossed the mountain, had it? A cold sweat broke out over her large frame. Could it be the same person who booby-trapped her SUV?

She slid around behind the hood—hidden from view of the truck—and leaned against the front of the SUV, trying to think.

As she stood mulling over ideas, the beep-beep of a horn reached her ears. She leaned around the hood in time to see a white car circle the mountain and pass the black truck, traveling toward her. When the car rounded the last curve, Clara leaned around the fender of her car and waved her hands. The white Ford Focus slowed when it came closer, and for an instant, a sliver of fear made her hesitate. But a glance at the black truck still parked in the curve strengthened her decision. Surely the person in the white car would be the lesser of two evils.

The white car slowed and gently pulled off the road in front of Clara and her vehicle. A woman leaned out of the window. “Do you need help?”

Clara did a double-take. Martha Rushing. Before the picnic, she hadn’t seen her in years—not since the accident and the scandal. This was the second time in two days.

Clara pushed aside her train of thought, grabbed her purse from the console, and ran to the passenger side of the white car.

“Do you mind taking me to town?” She took one last peek at the black truck and slid into the seat. “My water hose is busted, and the radiator’s out of water.”

“Sure. I met you at the picnic yesterday, didn’t I? Aren’t you one of the nurses at the Marvel County Clinic with Skyler and Cynthia?”

Clara sniffed. “I’m the
head
nurse at the clinic, yes.”

“I thought I recognized you. I’m Marti Rushing.”

“Yeah, I remember who you are.” She could tell her short tones surprised Marti. Clara saw the shutters close over Marti’s eyes and turned away to fasten her seat belt. After the rumors that circulated around town about the accident three years ago, Marti had reason to be embarrassed.

Marti put the car in gear and pulled out into the road. “I’ll drop you off at the garage on this side of town,” she said quietly.

“Thanks.” Clara pulled the mirror down on the visor and pretended to fix her hair while she looked to see if the black truck was following. She caught a glimpse of a black shadow moving about a mile back, and anger bubbled up in her throat. She would take care of this threat for good—just as soon as she got into town and to a phone.

She turned to Marti. “Are you going all the way in to the square?”

Marti nodded. “Yes, I have a lunch meeting at the Carson Café in an hour.”

“Would you mind waiting a minute while I talk to the mechanic, then taking me on into town with you?”

Marti hesitated and then nodded. “I’ll wait.”

Marti didn’t seem too crazy about the imposition, but Clara didn’t care. She had several things to pick up in town, but even more important was a certain phone conversation—and it would have to be taken care of immediately.

Clara kept silent while the rolling hills gave way to gradual signs of civilization. The car garage was located on the outskirts of town in an old rundown brick building. Marti pulled into the parking spot directly in front of the door and turned off the motor.

Clara slid out with a promise to be just a minute. She walked up to the door of the office, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a black truck pull off the road and park. She squeezed her fists together and wrenched open the office door.

“Just wait,” she murmured to herself. “I’ll take care of you next.”

FORTY-SEVEN

THE FACE IN THE MIRROR
stared back at him. He swore he had more wrinkles around his eyes than he ever had before. It was supposed to be so easy, but things weren’t going as he planned. Now he’d have to implement option number two.

He took a deep breath and pulled a number from a tiny slip of paper in his wallet. He picked up the phone to dial, but it rang in his hand.

“Hello.”

“Pardner, I have her in my sights. What do you want me to do?” The voice sounded agitated through the phone.

“Do you have that contraption with you?”

“You mean the bomb?”