Hidden Motive (3 page)

P
aul Murphy had long ago learned to cover his alarm with a look of calm detachment. It would be criminal, of course, to allow the bus to continue on this impossible road; he knew the invitation Sable issued was necessary.

“Are you sure about this?” the driver asked Sable. “No telling how long we'll be stuck here if we stop now.”

Perry Chadwick cleared his throat, his triple chins jiggling. “I would prefer to stay here indefinitely if the alternative is to plunge off a cliff. I vote we stay.”

“No voting to it,” Simmons growled. “We're staying.”

Murph studied the two men. If someone knew he and Sable were alive and had taken the bus from Freemont, it would have been easy to follow them to Joplin, buy a ticket and join them. It also concerned him that even Jerri, the bus driver, had been a sudden replacement.

All the other passengers had arrived at the Joplin bus station long after he and Sable. What better way to find the secluded Kessinger place—and the evidence stored there—than to tail Josiah Kessinger's granddaughter?

On the other hand, the men at the canal had seemed convinced that he and Sable had gone down with the car.

The older lady, Audry Hawkins, reached forward and patted the driver's shoulder. “This highway is treacherous in bad weather, especially if you aren't familiar with it. Let us go to Sable's house before the road or the driveway collect more ice.”

Sable gestured to the mailbox spotlighted by the bus headlights. Beside it, a narrow drive curved down between leafless trees and green cedars. “You can pull over there, Jerri. We'll have to walk from here.”

“Walk?” Perry Chadwick's voice rose to a squeak, his jowly face quivering in alarm as Jerri maneuvered the big vehicle forward. “In this weather? How far?”

“It's a little over a quarter of a mile,” Sable said.

“Why can't we drive there?” the portly man protested.

“The bus won't fit, you moron,” Simmons snapped.

Jerri parked the bus at the edge of the road. “Okay, folks, we're parked, but let's stay here on the bus, where it's dry, until the sun comes up in a few hours. I don't relish walking anywhere in the dark on that ice.”

“I'm sorry,” Audry said, “but speaking from experience, I intend to go now. I recently lost a dear friend who fell and broke her hip and didn't survive the surgery. The longer we wait here, the thicker the ground ice and the slicker the walk. Sable obviously knows this drive, and I have no doubt she can guide us safely to her home.”

For a moment, everyone hesitated.

Simmons got up and retrieved a duffel bag from beneath his seat. “The gal's right—that ice isn't melting. Let's get this over with.”

A muttered query came from the center of the bus. A shaggy-haired teenage boy poked his head over the seat and peered at them with sleepy brown eyes. “Are we there?”

“No, I'm sorry, Bryce.” Jerri set the hand brake and unbuckled her seat belt. “Get your coat and umbrella, if you have one.” She explained what they were doing.

“In the dark?” Bryce protested. “In the rain?”

“In the
freezing
rain,” Perry stressed.

“That's right.” Jerri scanned the tiny group, and her gaze fell on Murph. “Mr. Murphy, please check the overhead compartment in the back for umbrellas and the flashlight.”

“I have my little one.” Audry pulled a penlight from her purse and showed it to the others. “Amazing what a little beam can do in the darkness. I wouldn't be without it.”

“Better save it,” Jerri said. “We might need the light later. Everybody gather your things while I try to call dispatch.”

Five minutes later, after Jerri had tried the radio and a cell phone to no avail, everyone realized they would be out of touch with the world, here in the hills.

“We can try to make contact again when we get to the house,” Sable said. “The sooner we get there, the more likely that the telephone lines haven't broken yet.”

Perry returned to the front wearing a long coat, pulling a hard-sided case with wheels and a telescoping handle. “I can't believe we're doing this. Did you see those tree limbs? The ice must be an inch thick already.”

“Your complaints aren't helping,” Jerri snapped. “Carry only the bare essentials, an overnight case if you must, but no more.” She indicated his suitcase. “That's too much.”

Perry arched a pale eyebrow, surprisingly resolute. “This goes where I go.”

Jerri flicked off the bus lights and turned on her flashlight. “Be careful and stay together, everybody.” She pulled the door open to a maelstrom of wind and ice.

Murph stepped out first, catching his breath as the rain pelted his face and neck, slapping softly against the hardening surface of the ground. He stomped into a pile of ice-coated leaves and found traction…of sorts.

“Watch your footing,” he told the others. “It's treacherous.” He turned to help Sable.

She hesitated before taking his hand. He could see the anxiety in her eyes.

“Come on, keep it moving,” Simmons snapped behind her.

Evading Murph's outstretched hand, the muscular man with the gravel voice landed on the ground with surprising agility.

Perry Chadwick came next. When Murph reached up to help him with his suitcase, he jerked it back. “Important equipment,” he murmured, allowing Murph to steady him as he stepped down.

When they'd all gathered beneath a clump of cedar trees, sheltered from the worst of the rain, they opened their umbrellas. Except for Jerri's flashlight, the frigid darkness was absolute.

Murph couldn't help thinking this predawn experience was comparable to the ordeal he and Sable had gone through the night before. How much more would they have to endure?

 

As Sable scrambled for traction along the dark drive, icy needles of rain stung her face, whipped by the wind beneath the protection of the umbrella.

She cast a sideways glance at Murph, whose footing seemed secure and steady. In contrast, Perry Chadwick dragged his case behind him, stumbling and sliding with every step. By the time the group had reached the cliffs, a couple hundred feet from the highway, he was puffing and gasping for breath.

The road dipped at a sharp angle, hugging the hillside in a hairpin curve that overlooked a ravine. A sudden gust of wind blasted Sable with cold sleet, attacking her umbrella, nearly jerking it from her grip. Audry cried out. Perry slid to his knees.

Losing traction, Sable instinctively reached for Murph's arm.

He caught and steadied her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, but it's getting worse. This ice is almost impossible.” She raised her voice to be heard by the others. “Everyone stay as close as possible to the hillside here. And take your time. You don't want to lose your footing now.”

They had walked only a few more yards along the road when Perry gave a startled grunt and stumbled against Jerri, knocking the flashlight from her grip. It clattered to the ground, and in a spiral of rotating rays, slid over the edge of the cliff into empty, black space. With everyone shocked into silence, the spatter of rain was so loud, they didn't hear the flashlight hit bottom. The darkness engulfed them.

“You idiot!” Simmons snapped.

“Oh, no,” Perry said, “I'm so sorry. What are we—”

“Everybody stay put!” Jerri shouted from ahead of them. “Audry, where's your penlight?”

“It's right here,” Audry said. “Would someone please help me hold my umbrella for a moment?”

Murph released Sable and stepped backward just as someone else—the teenager Bryce? The chubby Perry Chadwick?—cried out and fell.

In the blackness, the wind attacked Sable's umbrella again, wrenching it from her grasp. Then someone shoved her from the right. Hard.

She screamed, flinging out her arms out as her feet flew out from under her. Her shoulder slammed against the ice-packed drive. Her slide gained momentum.

She screamed again, grasping desperately for a tree, a bush, anything in the darkness that would stop her descent to the ravine. Rocks gouged at her, but offered no handhold.

“Help me!” she cried as she neared the cliff's edge.

“Sable, grab my hand!” Murph shouted.

She reached up blindly through the darkness, but her body rammed against a boulder, knocking the breath from her lungs, stunning her. She tumbled sideways. Her arm smacked against something. She grabbed a sapling that halted her slide with a wrenching jolt as her left foot kicked out into open air.

She tried to gain traction with her right foot, tried to dig the toes of her shoe into the earth to gain a foothold, but she could not climb up. She heard the scatter of rocks and debris tumble into the ravine.

“Sable!” Murph called down from above. “Grab something!”

“I…I have,” she said. “But I can't hold on much longer!” As she began to lose her grasp on the sapling, she reached up with her left hand and tried to reinforce her grip, kicking frantically against the ground.

The sapling bent, then snapped. She screamed as she fell.

“Sable!” Murph shouted.

She landed hard on her back on a narrow ledge. Digging her fingers into the rocky earth, she paused to catch her breath.

“I'm here,” she tried to call, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Murph, I'm here!” But for how long? How could she climb back up to the others?

T
he rocky ledge gouged into Sable's back as rain slapped her face. She was going to die.

“Sable, hold on!” Murph's voice came from far above her. “I'm coming down.”

“No!” she called. “There's rope at the house. If you could just get there and…” But how could she hold on that long? Her hands were already growing numb.

A small light flickered from above, and Audry called out, “Hang in there, honey, we'll get you. How far down do you think you are, about twelve feet?”

“At least.” That meant she still had a long way to fall.

“Can you climb at all?” Murph asked.

“No, it's too slick.”

She heard a blur of frightened voices, speaking words she couldn't understand. “What are you waiting for? Go get the rope!”

“We've got something that I think'll work,” Murph called down. “Hold on for another moment.”

She almost felt icy fingers of darkness groping for her.

“Sable,” Murph called. “We have a rope of sorts. Reach up and I'll try to place it directly into your hands.”

Balancing cautiously, she groped upward with her left hand and waited, terrified that the ledge would give way, or that the wind would whip her from her unsteady perch.

“Where is it?” she asked.

“It's not long enough,” she heard Audry say. “How can we make it longer? Hurry, people, think, or she's going to fall!”

“Sable,” Murph called down. “Can you try to climb just a little way?”

“No!” Sable shouted. “Not on this ice!”

“Just do it!” Murph ordered.

Her feet kept sliding, and she had to scramble for traction that wasn't there. She reached upward in desperation, scrabbling at ice-coated stubble and imbedded boulders. If not for Audry's penlight, the darkness would have been complete.

“Hold the line steady,” Murph told the others. “I'm going to use it to climb down to her.”

“No!” she cried. To her amazement, her fingers encountered a dry patch of earth over her head, where the ice must have broken loose. She dug into the soft mesh of roots and dirt, gained a handhold and pulled herself upward a few more inches.

Again she reached above her head, and her fingers touched something dangling. She stretched out and grasped the tip. It felt like leather. A belt?

“I've got it!” she shouted.

Murph called down to her, “Wrap it around your arm and let me pull you up.”

“It isn't long enough. I can barely reach it.” She tightened her grip, balanced on one foot, and kicked into a layer of ice to reach the dirt beneath. Miraculously, she gained a toehold and stepped up.

Just then the ledge beneath her other foot crumbled. She grasped the belt with both hands and kicked again at the hillside in one more desperate attempt to gain traction. To her relief, she found another soft spot.

She wrapped the leather around her arm and held on, praying that the lifeline wouldn't break, that Murph and the others wouldn't drop her.

“Pull me up!” Her arms began to quiver. She could find no more toeholds. She could only hang on as she was being pulled, her shoulders protesting in pain as the rocky cliff gouged at her legs and arms. Every moment, she expected to lose her grip.

“Sable, you're getting close,” Murph called from directly above her. “Reach up and I'll grab your hand.”

With help from Audry's light, Sable could distinguish Murph's dark form as he reached down for her. She kicked against the slick trunk of a cedar and reached upward. Her foot slipped from the cedar, and she lost her grip. She felt herself slipping backward, and she cried out.

Murph caught her, and he pulled her over the edge and into his arms. For a long moment, she buried her face against his shoulder, unwilling to let go.

“Sable, what happened?” he asked.

She clung to him until her breathing eased and the horror lost some of its sharpness. “I'll tell you about it later. Right now, let's get to the house.”

 

Murph followed Sable onto the sheltered front porch of the two-story house as the others joined them.

“Home,” Sable murmured to him, still breathing heavily.

“I thought we'd never make it,” Perry Chadwick muttered. “How anyone could live at the back of—”

“Mr. Chadwick,” Audry cut in, “enough of your complaints. If Sable hadn't been kind enough to invite us to stay here, we would be in dire circumstances.” The lady peered into the house through one of the diamond-paned windows, then turned to Sable. “Honey, is someone at home? Looks like there's a light in there.”

Murph glanced through the same window. “There's a fire in the fireplace.”

“Do you mind if we go on inside?” Perry said with a trace of sarcasm in his voice. “Then we can satisfy our curiosity.”

Murph tested the door. It swung open into the cozy warmth of a large, paneled living room. He led the way inside, peering up the curved staircase, glancing down a hallway that led toward the back of the house. A light glowed at the end of that hall. There was a closed door to their left, and another door stood ajar directly beside the long rock hearth of the fireplace.

“This is more like it.” Perry placed his suitcase against the wall carefully, then rushed toward the fire.

Exclaiming with relief, the others followed suit. Murph observed the interplay of people. The driver, Jerri, had fiery red hair and rosy cheeks to match. He couldn't stop thinking about her revelation on the bus—that she was a substitute.

Sable strolled toward the far right hallway. “Mom?” she called. “Hello? Who's here?”

Murph pulled off his coat and dropped it beside the others. He wanted access to his weapon. He followed Sable.

The swinging door to the right revealed a kitchen, where a light glowed over the sink. The kitchen was not occupied. Murph caught barely a glimpse of it before Sable pressed past him and stepped into what proved to be a family room across the hallway.

In a few minutes, Murph received an abbreviated tour of the huge house, following Sable as she switched on a light in every room, along the upstairs hallway, with a cursory glance up the attic steps. They didn't find anyone.

Sable's increasing concern was obvious.

“Is there anyplace else someone might be?” he asked.

“I haven't looked in the basement or the garage.” She shivered. “It's cold up here.”

“Why don't you join the others at the fireplace. You've been through a lot, and we can't afford to have you sick.”

“I need to know who's here.”

He grasped her arm before she reached the stairs. She looked at him.

He slid the soaked sleeve of her sweater up her arm and felt the icy chill of her hands, the goose bumps on her flesh. He felt a quiver run through her.

“Stop,” he said. Before she could protest, he grabbed an afghan from the nearest bedroom and wrapped it around her shoulders. “You're going downstairs to the fireplace right now, and I'll complete the search.”

To his surprise, she didn't protest.