A Rumor of Bones: A Lindsay Chamberlain Mystery (30 page)

Patrick reached into the Jeep, brought out the
shovel, and stood it against the side of the vehicle. He
slid the knife from its scabbard in a slow menacing
motion and waved it in front of Lindsay's face before
cutting the tape that bound her legs. When he pulled
her to a standing position, she staggered and fell
against him. He stood there with his arms around her
and began to rub his hands all over her.

"I'd wait until the effects of the chloroform wear
off, or I'm likely to vomit all over you. I don't think
that is what you have in mind."

He pushed her away. "I can wait. Nobody knows
you're here. I have all the time in the world. There's a
clearing at the end of the trail. That's where I'm going
to bury you. A little digging will work the chloroform
out of you. You should be good at digging graves." He
laughed as if he had said something clever. "Besides,
I haven't decided everything I want to do to you yet.
I'll tell you what I'm planning while you dig. You
ought to enjoy that"

"You don't want to do this." Lindsay tried to think
of something persuasive to say, but everything that
went through her mind sounded like begging. She
didn't think that begging would work.

"You don't know what I want to do. You don't know
what I can do. She thinks she's in charge of everything. She doesn't know the things she made me do
make me stronger than her. I'll show her. I'll show you. I'll show them all. Then I'll see them stand there,
scared shitless of me °"

As Lindsay walked along the narrow path, her
hands still bound behind her, she only half listened to
Patrick's babbling. She concentrated on finding an
escape route. A clearing was visible just ahead, and
beyond it the woods grew thick. If she could reach the
dense undergrowth before he caught or shot her, she
might get away.

"I can't wait to see your Derrick's face when I tell
him what I did to you."

Lindsay blinked back the tears. Escape, she
thought. Concentrate on escape, not fear. Not nausea,
not pain. Escape.

They reached the clearing, and he cut the tape that
bound her hands, then pushed the shovel at her. "Now
dig," he ordered, taking his gun from his pants.

Lindsay didn't even think. She turned and swung
the sharpened shovel, hitting him as hard as she
could, and ran. She heard gun shots and felt a burning
pain in her thigh that knocked her to the ground. She
rolled over and managed to get back on her feet. The
pain in her leg was intense, but she struggled to run
faster. She tripped over a root and fell again.

Risking a backward glance, she saw Patrick running toward her with the gun. His left arm dangled at
his side bleeding profusely where the shovel had cut
into it. She tried to scramble to her feet as he aimed
the gun. He was screaming at her, and his right arm
was shaking. She prayed for him to miss.

As if by magic, the point of a spear emerged from
Patrick's stomach. He fell to his knees, dropping the
gun. Bright, red blood dripped from the shiny obsidian point, but only a little blood seeped around the wooden
shaft. Patrick put a hand around the thick shaft protruding from his abdomen and looked at Lindsay, bewildered. She was bewildered, too. Then she saw Derrick
running toward them. He was carrying his atlatl.

Derrick reached Lindsay and knelt down beside
her.

"He shot me, Derrick." Lindsay's voice was weak
and pitiful.

"I know" Derrick cut her jeans with his knife and
exposed the wound in her thigh. He tore a strip of
cloth from his shirt and placed it over the wound.

"It hurts really bad," Lindsay said, starting to cry.

"I know, baby. I'm going to get you help real
soon." He tore another piece from his shirt and placed
it around the back of her thigh at the entry wound.
Then he tied his bandanna around her leg.

"Is he dead?"

"I don't know."

As if answering, Patrick groaned.

"Why is he still on his knees like that?" she asked.

"I don't know. Don't look at him, sweetheart"

"We should do something."

"I'm going to get you out of here first."

Derrick picked her up and carried her through the
woods to his Jeep, just as the sheriff's car came charging up the old roadbed and stopped beside them. The
sheriff, a deputy, and Frank jumped out.

"Patrick is down that trail. He shot Lindsay. I have
to get her to the hospital."

The sheriff waved them on. "I'll talk to you at the
hospital."

"I'll drive," Frank said. "You hold Lindsay in the back." They climbed into Derrick's Jeep, and Frank
started the engine and headed out of the woods. Is it
too rough?"

"Just get her to the hospital," Derrick begged.
"She's losing a lot of blood." Frank drove faster.

"How did you know where to find me?" Lindsay
asked.

"Marsha. She arrived at the site early and saw
Patrick's Jeep heading into the woods like a bat out of
hell. She thought something was wrong," Derrick
answered.

"Marsha," whispered Lindsay. "That woman is
everywhere"

"Hush," Derrick said.

"My leg hurts. Would you get me an aspirin?"

"It will be all right. The doctors will give you
something when we get to the hospital," he whispered.

Frank arrived at the dirt road, drove a mile, and
turned onto the paved road leading to town.

Derrick held her closer. "Hurry," Lindsay heard
him say before she lost consciousness.

Lindsay awakened in a hospital room. Her head was
throbbing, and her leg ached. When she tried to move,
her side hurt. She turned her head and saw Derrick
asleep in a chair. He opened his eyes, sensing her
movement.

"Welcome back," he said, coming over to her.

"I feel so ..."

"They had to do a little repair on your leg, but
you'll be fine, dancing in no time," he said, taking her
hand.

"Dancing ... I'm sorry about this weekend ..."

Derrick shook his head. "There'll be plenty of
weekends. Try to get some sleep." He stroked her
hair.

"What happened to ... to ... Patrick?" she asked.

"Patrick is in intensive care. He had surgery. I
don't know how he is."

"Thank you for rescuing me."

He took her hand and kissed it. He was all out of
smart replies, and his eyes misted over.

"I'm all right," Lindsay said.

"I know."

Lindsay tried to sit up

"Try to rest," he told her.

"No, I need to be awake. Please help me"

Derrick helped Lindsay into a sitting position and
put extra pillows behind her. "How's that?"

"Better. What did the doctors say?" she asked.

Derrick moved the chair closer, sat, and held her
hand. "The bullet went clean through. It didn't hit an
artery or bone or anything. You didn't lose as much
blood as it looked when I brought you in. You have a
slight concussion, and the doctor wants to keep you
for a couple of days. You also have some bruised ribs.
What happened? How did he get you?"

"I went for a walk by the river before daylight. He
caught me from behind and held chloroform over my
face. The next thing I knew, I was bound in the back
of his jeep, riding through the woods."

"What else? Tell me about it if you can."

"He wanted me to dig my grave, and he wanted to
kill you."

11 God, Lindsay. I'm sorry I let him hurt you."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I told you I'd keep you safe."

"Aren't we getting rather traditional all of a
sudden'? I thought that was my job. Everything is all
right now. Did you call my parents'?"

"Yes. I talked to your father. I told him you were
going to be fine."

"What time is it? How long have I been here?"

"It's about 2:00 in the afternoon"

"Have you been here the whole time?"

"Yes, of course"

"Why don't you get Frank and Marsha to take you
out to eat, and I'll call my father?"

"All right. I'll be back in about an hour." Derrick
kissed her and left.

Lindsay called home, and her father answered the
phone. He must have been sitting beside it, she
thought.

"Lindsay," he said and hesitated. "How are you?
Tell me the truth" Lindsay tried to tell him she was
fine, but he interrupted. "Derrick said you'd been
shot."

"In the leg. It didn't hit anything. I'm fine. Just a
little sore."

"He said you have a concussion."

"Just a slight one"

"Anything else? Tell me exactly what happened,
Lindsay. Don't soften it. Your mother and I want to
know what happened to you."

"It all happened so fast. I got hold of a shovel, hit
him with it, and ran. He shot me in the leg and was
about to shoot me again when Derrick caught up with
us and stopped him."

"I'm relieved to hear you're all right, Lindsay.
Here, your mother wants to talk to you"

Lindsay talked to her mother. Her practical nononsense conversation was comforting. Her mother
didn't dwell on what might have happened. She made
everything seem normal again.

Lindsay hung up the phone just as Michelle walked
into the room with some flowers. She set them on the
night stand and sat down in the chair beside Lindsay's
bed.

"Thank you" Lindsay eyed her suspiciously.

"Don't worry. They aren't poisonous." Michelle
smiled. "Well, Lindsay, you do have a knack for getting everyone's sympathy, including mine. Of all the
things I might have wished on you, this sure wasn't
one of them."

"Thanks ... I think."

"I understand you were supposed to go with Derrick to Atlanta for the weekend?"

"Just taking your advice."

Michelle gave Lindsay a crooked smile. "Marsha
will be happy, I'm sure. I just wanted to tell you, I
don't intend to give up. You'll have to work hard to
keep Derrick if I have anything to say about it."

"Thanks for the warning."

"Everyone at the site is really upset over this. I
think several more of the scouts have left. Boy, we
sure gave them a distorted view of archaeology,
didn't we?"

Lindsay laughed, and her leg hurt. "I can't imagine
what they must be thinking."

"Well, I'll go and let you get some rest. I really am
sorry this happened to you."

"Thanks, Michelle."

Derrick returned as Michelle was leaving. "I'm
glad you had company," he said, smiling at Lindsay.
"Michelle's a doll, isn't she."

"Yep," said Lindsay. "A doll."

Derrick stayed the night and most of the next day
in Lindsay's hospital room. The doctors wanted to
keep her another night, so she talked Derrick into
going back to the site where he could get some rest.

After the lights were out and the nurses had made
their rounds, the hospital room was quiet. A light left
on in the bathroom supplied the room with faint illumination. Lindsay drifted in and out of sleep and
strange dreams. In one dream a shadow, slow and
menacing, drifted toward her. A face slowly formed on
the shadow, a hideous angry face, its dark arms raised
above its ugly head. It was then that Lindsay realized
it wasn't a dream. She raised up in bed, threw herself
over the side, and screamed. The dark form came
around the bed, raising the knife again. Lindsay rolled
under the bed and screamed as loud as she could.
Something clattered on the floor, and she thought she
heard running. A few seconds later the night nurse
came hurrying into her room.

The nurse turned on the light and helped Lindsay
out from under the bed. "What happened`?" she asked.

"Didn't you see him?"

".Who'?"

"Someone attacked me."

"You must have been dreaming," the nurse said as
she helped Lindsay back into bed.

"I didn't dream that." She pointed to a large knife
lying on the floor.

"Oh, dear," the nurse gasped, looking confused.
"Mrs. McGilles was having a rough night, and I was
helping her ... I didn't see anyone" She started to
pick it up.

"Don't touch it. It may have fingerprints."

"Of course. I'll ... I'll get the sheriff."

Lindsay stared at the knife while waiting for the
sheriff. She brought up the face in her memory and
tried to recognize it, but it had been too dark and she
had been too drowsy.

"Are you all right?" the sheriff asked when he
arrived. Lindsay looked up from the knife to the sheriff coming through her door, followed by the nurse.

"No"

He took out his handkerchief and picked up the
knife with it. "Did you get a look at the attacker?" he
asked as he took out his phone and called one of his
deputies. "Andy, you and Ricky get over to the hospital. Now."

"I just saw an ugly face," Lindsay answered.

"I'm sorry, Lindsay," the sheriff said. "I have a
man watching Patrick's door. I didn't think you
needed anyone here. I was wrong."

"That's all right, Sheriff," Lindsay said, hugging
her arms tightly to herself and shivering.

"I'll post Andy at your door for the rest of the
night. Do you want me to call someone from the dig
to sit with you?" he asked.

Lindsay shook her head. "Would you take me to
the site?"

"Now?"

"Yes."

"You can't leave the hospital," the nurse said.

"Yes, I can. I'm scheduled to be released in the
morning anyway." Lindsay got out of bed and hobbled over to the closet. She began collecting her
things. She didn't bother changing clothes. "If you
can't take me, I'll call Derrick or Frank."

"I'll take you if you're determined."

The nurse protested again. "You can't do this. This
is most irregular."

"It is most irregular to have someone come into my
room and try to kill me"

"We are sorry, but ..."

"Look, I don't blame you. I mean, who knew? And
you have taken good care of me here. But let's face it.
You aren't given combat training. I'll come by tomorrow to see the doctor and check out."