Strawberry Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 13 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) (6 page)

Missy
stumbled through the swamp, her vision finally clearing. She moved as quickly
as she could, given the fact that she was weak with hunger and dehydration and
was wearing canvas shoes that were definitely not designed for an adventure
hike. Lightheaded and exhausted beyond belief, she focused on the stand of
trees in the distance, hoping that once she got there, she’d be far enough
ahead of her captor that she could take a bit of a rest, even if he had
regained consciousness and was pursuing her.

Jumping
at every sound, and scanning the thick grass underfoot for the telltale
movement of reptilian creatures, she avoided areas of standing water, trying to
keep her feet dry. The puddles that she passed made her thirst even greater,
and she hoped that somewhere among the trees ahead, there might be a house or business
that could offer her safety and water. The sun beat down on her without mercy,
making her trek through the damp, grassy land that much more miserable, and she
felt her strength ebbing. She turned to look behind her periodically, to see if
she was being followed, and her heart leaped into her throat when she saw a
large male form staggering out of the doorway of the cabin, glancing around as
though trying to spot his prey.

Crouching
down, she tried to move faster, the muscles of her thighs seizing and burning
in protest. The man lumbered down from the front porch of the cabin and moved
toward the swamp, clearly looking for a trail. Missy hadn’t had the time to
properly cover her tracks, and once the dangerous stranger spotted some bent
grasses and a footprint, he started down the path that she had left, moving
much faster than she had, despite the head injury that he had suffered at her
hand. Missy knew now that her life depended upon reaching the trees and finding
a hiding spot. She didn’t have the strength to continue to run, but if she
could reach the treeline, she might stand a chance of outsmarting her captor.

Still
trying as best as she could to stay low and move fast, Missy headed for the
trees, glancing behind her every few feet to gauge how quickly the lumbering
beast behind her was gaining ground. She zigged and zagged, hoping to confuse
him, weaving in and out of tall grass clumps and hoping that they provided some
modicum of cover. The first stand of bushes and trees loomed closer, no more
than the length of a football field away, and Missy felt a burst of hope surge
through her, enabling her to pick up her pace despite her fatigue. She glanced
back and realized that she didn’t have much time – her captor was moving faster
than she was – she had to find a hiding place and fast.

Making
a beeline for the closest and thickest clump of trees, Missy found herself no
longer able to avoid stepping in water. The entire area was soggy, with areas
of standing water that grew larger the closer that she got to the trees. By the
time she made it to the stand of trees, she was in water up to her knees, which
provided good cover for her tracks but significantly increased the danger of
animal encounters. Using the last bit of her pitiful strength, she grabbed a
branch that was just above her head, held onto it for dear life, and walked her
feet up the trunk of the tree until she could hoist herself up onto the limb.
Once she had balanced on the limb, with her back against the trunk of the tree,
she climbed higher, counting on the thick leafy cover to shield her from sight.
When she reached limbs that seemed like they might be too small to support her
weight, she positioned herself so that she was on the side of the tree that was
facing away from her pursuer.

Repeatedly
glancing around the tree to follow his progress, Missy tried to focus on
controlling her breathing. Her heart was pounding so hard that she was sure if
the man came anywhere close to her, he would probably hear it. She had a few
minutes respite, and was able to start breathing somewhat normally before
hearing a splashing sound that made her heart speed up yet again. Hoping that
the rhythmic whooshing that she heard was merely a water bird or some sort of
animal gliding through the water, she slowly peered around the side of the tree,
startled by what she saw.

Not
only had her captor gained serious ground, but he was also headed directly for
the tree in which she was precariously perched. When she looked closer and
recognized him, it was all she could do not to gasp in horror. Lounge Lizard Leonard
had been her captor. Her foot slid down the branch on which she was resting,
throwing her off balance, and she clung tightly to the branches above her head,
teetering precariously for a moment before regaining her balance.

Leonard
was certainly not an athlete, and had a pretty nasty-looking head injury as a
result of his encounter with the fireplace poker, but he had somehow managed to
track Missy to almost her exact hiding place. She held her breath as he passed
a mere three feet away from the base of her tree, glancing about in every
direction except up, thankfully. She watched his progress, thinking she could
throw a rock at his ridiculous comb-over and hit it. She kept her breathing
shallow, her heart pounding in her chest, and absently noticed the sensation of
something brushing up against her leg.

Tearing
her gaze momentarily away from the brute below her, Missy glanced to see what
was rubbing against her shin, and literally had to bite her tongue to keep from
screaming. Her greatest fear was slithering along beside her, a water snake was
making its way down the branch, rippling along beside her leg, and she
immediately panicked, briefly considering leaping from the tree, come what may.
Fortunately her survival instinct prevented the leap to almost certain death
and she opted to hold her breath, all the while shuddering uncontrollably,
until the creature had made its way from her branch to a neighboring one where
the sunlight was more profound and it could bask in the sun undetected. She
wanted to rub the sensation away from her leg, scream, cry and run toward the
comfort of the civilized world, but at the moment had to content herself with
no longer being in physical contact with the scary-looking predator. Her focus
on the reptile had distracted her from keeping an eye on the man below her, and
when she looked down again, he had gone further into the swamp, still not
thinking to look above the waterline.

Relaxing
a bit, but still watching the snake like a hawk, Missy tried to figure out a
strategy that would bring her to safety, ultimately deciding that her next move
depended upon Leonard’s actions. The formerly harmless-seeming ice cream addict
wandered around in the swamp, searching, until the sun began to sink lower in
the sky. Standing with his hands on his hips, doing a 360 degree scan of the
area, he shook his head and finally gave up, heading back toward the cabin, and
Missy breathed a sigh of relief. As the air cooled, the snake moved down the tree,
slid into the water and glided away, and she was alone at long last.

There
was no way in the world that she was going to climb down and walk anywhere in
the murky water below, in the dark of night, so she resigned herself to
spending the night in the tree and tried her best to get comfortable.

After
a thorough review of all the evidence collected to date, the murder charges
against Frank Capetti were dropped, as were the aiding and abetting charges
against Echo. Frank was charged for what he done to Echo before attempting to
flee and had several outstanding warrants in other states, but Echo had
returned home to Dellville, sick with worry about Missy. Evidence was collected
from Leonard Koslowski’s apartment in the basement of his mother’s house that
tied him to both the scene of the murder, and the inside of Echo’s bedroom, and
a warrant was issued for his arrest, but there were no leads as to where he
might be found.

“There
must be some sort of mistake,” Leonard’s sweet, grey-haired mother shook her
head. “My Lenny is a good, caring, boy. He’s never been in any trouble, and he
always has such lovely girlfriends. He doesn’t bring them home, you know,
because he’s a little bit ashamed that my home is so simple and plain,” she
explained sadly, looking around her spotless little house. “But he has lots of
pictures. Beautiful ladies, every one of them, but things just don’t seem to
last for poor Lenny.”

“Pictures?”
Chas asked, casually. “That’s great,” he smiled. “I’d really like to see
them…do you know where they are?”

“Of
course,” she smiled fondly. “Follow me.” The elderly woman toddled down the
basement stairs, very much enjoying the company of the handsome detective and
the opportunity to show off her son’s impressive collection of “girlfriends.”

Chas
worked to keep any trace of surprise or horror from his face as Imogene
Koslowski opened the door to her son’s darkroom. The detective recognized
photos of women who had disappeared in several states, lining the walls.
Several cold cases would be solved when Koslowski was apprehended. Leonard had
been more than thorough in documenting the beauty of his victims. The photos
that his mother thought were pictures of girlfriends were actually the results
of years of stalking. The freshest photos were of Echo – in her garden, at
work, out shopping – Chas was thankful that she hadn’t yet become a victim, but
he knew that he had to warn her immediately. It was with great relief that he
noticed there were no photos of his beloved Missy in the killer’s shrine.

“Your
son is quite the photographer,” Chas commented, looking for similarities and
clues in the photos, anything that might give him insight as to where the
killer might be.

“He
is, isn’t he?” his mother agreed.

“Do
you suppose that I could borrow some of these? Since your son is missing, they
may help us figure out where he went and how to help him,” Beckett said
smoothly.

“Oh,
of course, anything that will help,” Imogene nodded, wide-eyed.

Chas
instructed two forensics guys to collect the photos and anything else that
might be of interest, and went outside to make a phone call.

“Echo,
it’s Chas. An unmarked patrol car will be pulling up in front of your house in
no more than five minutes. Throw some things into a bag and don’t open the door
for anyone except Officer Stanton.”

Missy’s
back was a minefield of knots and aches as she fought to stay awake. Her throat
burned with thirst and hunger pangs had been ignored for so long that they’d
evolved into a constant dull ache. She made sure she stretched each of her
limbs periodically so that they didn’t fall asleep or cramp unbearably, and
fought to keep her eyes open as the first rays of the dawn gave the formerly
sinister landscape a rosy hue. As soon as she could see well enough to navigate
her way through the swamp without fear of accidentally stepping on a snake, or
twisting her ankle in a rabbit hole, she’d head in the opposite direction of
the little cabin from which she’d come.

The
sun peeked above the horizon, and Missy climbed carefully down the tree,
dropping the last few feet to the ground, her shoes sinking into the deep mud
below the surface of the water. Pulling her shoes out of the muck, rinsing them
in the murky water, and putting them back on again, she set off in the
direction of the rising sun, hoping against hope that she’d run into another
human being (as long as it wasn’t Lounge Lizard Leonard), sooner rather than
later.

Slogging
through water and muck that sometimes rose just above her knees and being
careful not to stumble over branches, tree roots and cypress knees in the
water, Missy was determined to make it out of this horrible misadventure alive.
She seriously considered rinsing her mouth out with the brownish water, just
for a measure of relief from the dehydration that made every breath feel like
crushed glass in her throat, but ultimately decided that the bacterial
infections (or worse) that might result, simply weren’t worth it. As it was,
she planned on getting a thorough check-up when she made it back to the real
world.

The
water grew steadily deeper, until it reached nearly to her waist and Missy
cried dry tears, hanging her head in defeat. She had stood a chance of walking
out of the swamp – her determination would allow that, but she simply did not
have the physical strength and stamina that it would take to swim in snake and
gator infested waters for an indeterminate amount of time. She had come this
far, only to die alone and afraid in the unforgiving waters of a Louisiana
swamp.

“Chas,”
she whispered, aching to see her beloved just one last time. She raised her
head and thought for a moment that she was hallucinating. At the end of the
treed area, where the swamp gave way to open water, she saw a metallic glimmer,
that winked, then disappeared. Eyes straining, she fixated on the area where
she had seen the glint, and saw it again. Metal meant people, or at least a
fixed point where she could rest and perhaps be found. With a burst of renewed
energy, she slipped into the tepid water, keeping her eyes on the spot that had
become her beacon of hope, and swam with all of her might.

The
catfish fishermen were startled to see a bedraggled blonde woman swimming out
of the swamp, but hauled her aboard, giving her sips of Cajun coffee out of a
plastic thermos and cautioning her to drink slowly. They were met at the dock
by an ambulance crew who transported the exhausted woman to a local hospital,
notifying the authorities in LaChance, who had issued a missing person report
on her behalf.

Missy
was given intravenous fluids and checked for injuries. The abrasions on her
hands and wrists from having scraped off the duct tape had become infected, so
the wounds were cleaned and antibiotics were given intravenously as well.
Exhaustion claimed her and she slept for fourteen hours straight, not even
waking when the nurses checked her vital signs several times throughout the
night. When at last she opened her eyes, blinking in the sunlight that streamed
in through the window, the first thing she saw was her beloved Chas, standing
by the bed, brushing the hair from her face and smiling tenderly.

“Good
morning, beautiful,” he said softly, kissing her forehead.

Her
tears of joy and relief were immediate. “Oh Chas, I was so scared, I thought I
was going to die in the swamp and I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing
you again,” she cried.

“I’m
here, sweetie,” he soothed her, gathering her into his arms. “Everything is
okay,” he stroked her hair while she cried, the agony of the past several days
getting the best of her.

When
Missy had calmed down, she asked about Echo, and was tearfully relieved to hear
that her friend was alive and well, staying in Chas’s home with Toffee and
Bitsy until Lounge Lizard Leonard was found. She recounted her harrowing
experience with the stalker, breaking down a few times during the tale. She had
just finished telling him about her journey through the swamp and her rescue by
the fishermen when his phone rang.

“I’m
sorry, sweetie, I have to take this, but I’ll be right outside the door, okay?”
he said, rising from his perch on the side of her bed and moving to the exit.
Missy nodded and sipped at the ice water that he had given her while she
talked. When he came back in, he clearly had good news.

“They
got him. Leonard Koslowski is in custody,” he announced with grim relief.

“Oh,
thank goodness! How did they find him?” Missy asked, relaxing.

“When
we searched his house for evidence, there were a lot of…photos,” Chas began
carefully, not wanting to traumatize her. “Leonard was a serial killer, baby,”
he said, taking her hand and squeezing it as her eyes grew large. “Some of the
photos were taken after death, and had similarities in their backgrounds. When
you were found in the swamp, we were able to search the surrounding area until
we found the cabin where he’d held you captive,” he explained, intentionally
leaving out the details about what had been found in the basement of the cabin.
There were just some things that she didn’t need to know.

“So
I could’ve been…” she murmured, staring into the distance and unable to finish
her thought.

“Yes,”
Chas said gently. “But you weren’t, and I don’t want you to dwell on what
could’ve happened. You’re safe now, that’s what’s important, okay?” he brought
her hand to his lips, brushing kisses across her palm. She nodded and pulled
him close, gathering strength from his embrace. His phone buzzed again and he
looked at it, frowning.

“Be
right back,” he promised. Missy let her head fall back against the pillows,
overwhelmed at all that had transpired in the course of a few weeks.

When
her handsome detective reappeared this time, the news wasn’t good. “Frank
Capetti escaped.”