The Butterfly Conspiracy (31 page)

“Sir, I can’t comment on the case, but I will tell you we found a bloody knife, identified as belonging to you, hidden up underneath a ceiling tile in Ms. Adolfson bedroom.”

Stephen stopped walking.
 
The officer behind him gave him a poke.

“Get moving.”

Stephen’s mind was racing.
 
Had someone moved the knife to an even more incriminating place?

Stephen walked the rest of the way in silence.
 
He was steadily falling into a deep despair while trying to make sense of the latest developments.
 
He found it impossible to fully comprehend what was happening.
 
He had just been arrested for murder.

His beautiful Jeanette was probably lying dead at the base of the cliff and Moon was still roaming free.

The trail was getting dim as the moon was beginning to rise.
 
Stephen shuffled his way down the path, following the policeman directly ahead of him.
 
From the uneven pace, it was apparent the cops were not as familiar with the trail as Jeanette had been.
 
Even with a bright flashlight, the agent leading the way had to stop every now and then and hunt for the trail several times before they made it back to the staging area at Cliffside Manor.

Chapter 41

Jeanette lay wedged against a fallen hickory log.
 
Once she felt the trail crumple under her feet, she knew she was in trouble.
 

The cliff edge dropped straight down twelve feet but, lucky for her, a thick growth of evergreens softened her fall. She rolled another twenty feet before slamming into the side of the log.
 

Jeanette fought to catch her breath.
 
She lay still as she heard more gunfire.
 
She moved her right arm.
 
It seemed okay. She flexed her left arm and then her legs.
 
There didn’t seem to be any broken bones.
 
She listened for more rifle shots.
 
She heard only silence, and then in the distance she heard voices crackling over what sounded like hand-held radios.
 
Above, she could hear men scrambling down the steep cliff face.
 

She slowly rolled to her knees and peered over the log into open space. She could see just beyond the log. The cliff dropped straight down to the
Lake Superior
shore hundreds of feet below.
 

There was movement above her.
 
Two men in uniforms were headed her way.
 
Both men had guns drawn.
 
She knew one of them, Dave Saunders, from school.
 
She waved her arm.
 

“Dave, here…over here!”

She felt the log move slightly.
 
Both policemen stopped moving.
 

“Don’t move, Jeanette.
 
That log is the only thing between you and the shoreline.”

 
The cliff was sheer where the policemen were standing and it was a very steep drop to where Jeanette lay.
 
Dave slowly lowered himself to his hands and knees, trying not to topple over the incline.
 
He laid flat on the ground and inched his way head first to Jeanette. Dave turned to the other policeman.

“Jim, hold my foot.
 
I’m going to crawl closer and see if I can grab her.”

The other officer held on to Dave’s ankle as he inched his way closer.
 

“Jeanette, can you turn and grab my hand?
 
You have to move very slowly.”

Jeanette started to turn but stopped when she felt the log move closer to the cliff.
 

“You’re close, Jeanette.
 
My hand’s only six inches away.
 
Try again, but move slowly.”
 

As Jeanette reached out, she felt the log give way and tumble over the edge.
 
Jeanette pushed off with her foot and flung herself at Dave’s outstretched hand.
 
She felt strong fingers wrap around her wrist.

“Jim, hang on. I’ve got you, Jeanette.”

 
Dave pulled as Jeanette slowly eased herself away from the cliff edge.

Jim was able to steady Dave as they slowly climbed back to the path up above.
 
Once the officers pulled Jeanette to the safety of the trail, they all sat and caught their breath for several minutes.

Dave glanced over at Jeanette and saw her arm was bleeding.

“Are you okay?” Dave asked.

“My chest and arm are starting to ache,” Jeanette said, rubbing her left arm.
 
  

“Let’s take a look,” Dave said.
 
He pushed the sleeve of her shirt up and looked at her elbow.
 
There was blood on her shirt.
 
He slowly moved her forearm up and down.

“It doesn’t look like it’s broken.
 
You had one heck of a fall.
 
Lucky for you that log was there.
 
You may have cracked a rib when you slammed into it, though.”

“Let’s get you back to Mr. Kahle’s,” Jim said.
 
“We’ll have an ambulance ready for you.”

 
“How’s Stephen? Did he get hit?”

“No, he’s okay.
 
He’s headed back to Mr. Kahle’s now.”
  

Phillip was pacing back and forth on the brick driveway as Stephen and the police finally made it back to Cliffside Manor.
 

He had been briefed a few hours earlier, when they showed up looking for his nephew.
 
As they placed Stephen in a police car, Phillip leaned in and said, “Don’t worry, Stephen.
 
We’ll get you out of this mess.
 
This whole thing is preposterous.”

“Uncle Phil, Jeanette fell off the cliff at Devil’s Kitchen.
 
She was trying to push me out of the way when someone was shooting at us.
 
You need to find her and see if she’s okay!”

Phillip turned to one of the policemen.
 
“Is this true?”
 

“Yes, Mr. Kahle.
 
We have radio contact with another team and they tell me she’s been found and she’s okay.
 
A few cuts and bruises, but doing fine.
 
They’re headed back to your place now and should be here in about thirty minutes.”
 

Phillip leaned into the police car.
 
“Did you hear that, Stephen?”

“Yes, at least something turned out well tonight.”

A policeman jumped in the driver’s seat, the window next to Stephen rolled up, and the car turned down the driveway on the way to Grand View and the county jail.
 
Stephen looked out the rear window and watched as his uncle disappeared from view.

Chapter 42

Paulie felt the ground beneath him start to get wet from his blood.
 
He was feeling light headed. He started going over his options.
 
He had dropped his gun and he was bleeding badly.
 
He was immobile behind a log and he didn’t know how many cops were shooting at him.
 
He was unsure if he had made good on plan B.
 
Was the kid still alive?
 
If so, the boys back home were not going to be happy. He knew what that meant; lie here and bleed to death, or try and get back home so he could get whacked.
 
Neither option was very appealing.

Paulie winced in pain as he tried to get on his knees.
 
He pulled himself up on the log and started hollering, “Hey, stop shooting, it’s me.
 
Here I am, hold your fire.
 
I’m over here!”

Stephen spent a sleepless night in jail.
 
The previous night’s activities were replaying over in his mind. There were so many unanswered questions.
 
How was Jeanette?
 
Who had taken his knife?
 
Why had it been moved?
 
How could anyone possibly think he could have murdered Britt?
 
Who had been shooting at them up at Devil’s
Kitchen
Cave
?
 
How was Moon involved?
 
What about that lunatic who had followed him all the way from
New York
and what part did he play in all of this?

Stephen finally was able to doze off sometime before dawn.
 
He rolled over on his thin mattress as someone yelled “breakfast” and Stephen heard a tray slide into his cell.
 
He had just finished eating a dry piece of toast and some watery oatmeal when a guard opened the cell.
 

“Looks like you know all the right people,” the guard said as he pushed open the cell door.
 
“We don’t get many murderers around here, and when we do, they don’t get out on bond the very next day.”

“I’m not a murderer,” Stephen snapped.

The guard ignored him.
 
“Your uncle’s waiting for you downstairs.
 
Don’t jump bail, kid.
 
If you do, it’s going cost him half a million bucks.”

Stephen said, “I’m not running away from anything.
 
Am I free to go now?”

“Not really. But since everyone around here knows your uncle and they know he’s got that security guard, you’re going to be under some kind of house arrest.”