A Vision of Murder (11 page)

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Authors: Price McNaughton

Tags: #Mystery, #Suspense

BOOK: A Vision of Murder
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“We’ve come this far,” Dunn
said. “No reason not to finish before we start with the warrants.” Simms
hesitantly nodded agreement.

I took a deep breath and
began.

Chapter 11

“I
run from the reality”

 

The shelves of books made
narrow alleyways in the darkening library. It appeared to be totally empty and,
for a moment, Mrs. Dodd imagined that it was. For one horrifying moment, she
believed that the librarian may have closed up early and left them locked
inside, but her fears subsided as they turned the corner.

The librarian stood ready at
the desk, leaning over a book and inspecting it carefully. “I was just about to
check on you.” She smiled up at them. “Did you find everything you needed?”

“We did.” Mrs. Dodd returned
her smile.

“Oh my goodness,” Sissy
exclaimed, staring at the clock over the librarian’s head, “is that the time?
We have to get back, Velma.”

“You two
be
careful driving home.” The librarian smiled again, a patronizing smile as if it
was comical that two women their age should be out and about on their own.

“She’s been driving since
you were in diapers,” Mrs. Dodd said in a friendly tone. “I’m sure we’ll be
fine.”

She turned and left without
waiting for a reply. Sissy fussed as they walked carefully down the cracked
sidewalk to her car. The evening sunlight glowed orange on them, extending out
over the ground like a golden wave. The air had just enough nip in it to make
her wish for her sweater.

Just as Mrs. Dodd had
thought, though, the car was overly warm. She didn’t bother with the sweater.
Instead, she withdrew her notebook again from her bag, poring over it as Sissy
fretted her way back home.

“Sissy,” Mrs. Dodd said,
“I’m not too proud to admit that I’ve been thinking for many months now that
most of her so-called cases were made up. But this list….” She held up the
notebook in her hand.
“Seems to prove otherwise.
Different newspapers report the same findings. She actually did work on these
cases.”

“And solved them,” Sissy put
in. She flipped the turn signal a couple of times, but it obstinately refused
to cooperate. Rolling down the window, she stuck one arm out as a turn signal.
The cool air whipped through the car, sending Sissy’s hair into a tizzy and
chilling both of them.

“I told you a month ago to
get that turn signal fixed,” Mrs. Dodd said. “Anyway, I’m not sure what to do
now, Sissy. I don’t feel this way very often. Where do I go from here?”

Sissy nodded at Mrs. Dodd.
“Exactly.
Where do you go from here? You’ve got to accept
that she’s psychic, Velma. Look at the cases. We found at least five missing
children reunited with their parents and a few murders on top of that.”

Mrs. Dodd consulted the list
again, her finger lingering on a name. “Sarah Thompson. Remember her?”

“That was a tragic story if
I ever heard one,” Sissy replied. The two of them had grown up with Sarah until
they were almost out of school. Then Sarah and her family had moved away.

“She was engaged to Howard,
you know,” Mrs. Dodd said.

“He was your first cousin,
wasn’t he?” Sissy asked. She could tell that Mrs. Dodd wanted to talk about the
past again. It was a subject they often visited, lingering over the memories of
their youth.

“Second,” Mrs. Dodd said
sadly. “Our mothers were cousins. He was a good boy, very brave. Everybody said
it was puppy love, but they proved them wrong, didn’t they?” Mrs. Dodd laughed
lightly. “Stuck together till the end, neither distance nor death could keep
them apart. They got engaged just before he shipped out. He died in the
service. She never got over it, I heard, but we didn’t stay in contact.”

Sissy nodded. “He was a
favorite of yours, wasn’t he?”

“Oh, yes, we were very close.
I was a good deal younger than him, but I worshiped the ground he walked on. I
was jealous of her! So jealous! He gave her a gift once. A cross of my
grandmother’s, after she had passed. I told him I wanted it and he sat me right
down and said, ‘Now Velma, Sarah is going to be in our family. Don’t we want
her to feel like she’s part of our family?’ I said yes, but I didn’t mean it!
And then Sarah, sweet girl that she was, tried to give it to me. When he
protested, she winked at me and said she would just keep it for me, until I
needed it. I can still see her. She had the longest blond hair, perfectly
styled. Her dress was blue and white and she had the cutest high heel shoes.”

“Did she send it to you?”

“She never did,” Mrs. Dodd
said. “To tell you the truth, I had forgotten all about it. I think it meant
too much to her to part with it when Howard died. It was the only gift he ever
gave her that had any value. He came from a poor family, you know.”

“I don’t like to think of
her dying like that,” Sissy said, a pained expression in her eyes. “To think,
the lady that cared for her, that she practically
raised
,
went and poisoned her for some money. And not much money at that from what I
heard. That is why you don’t adopt distant cousins from family members that
have married down. You just never know about them. That girl was a Young on her
father’s side and they’ve always been known to live just this side of the law.”
The wind whipped through the car icily as the sun sank behind the hills.

“They were never known to
murder, though, were they? Roll that window up,
Sissy,
else I’ll be frozen solid by the time we get home.” Pulling her sweater around
her, Mrs. Dodd glared balefully at her friend before continuing. “I know. I
don’t like to think of it either. I suppose I’ll just have to visit that
psychic tomorrow and see if she’ll let me help her.”

 The road curved to the
left and down in front of them. Their town, their home for generations,
appeared in the distance, looking safe and serene in the failing light. The
tree branches hung down over the road above them as if welcoming them home.
“We’ve missed you,” they seemed to say.

 

The killer straightened
slowly, rock in hand. Thunder cracked overhead. Ducking reflexively, the killer
crept through the forest. The woods edge seemed to make a shelter, casting
shadows over a murderer considering the weapon of choice.

Moving quickly, the killer
hurried to the edge and threw the large rock in the pond. It made a loud splash
that echoed through the woods. Hurrying back to the edge of the forest, the
destroyer paused only once to glance at the pond before rushing back to the
prey.

I swallowed, almost choking
and opened my eyes. “She was killed with a large rock. It’s somewhere in the
pond now.”

Simms hissed through his
teeth, running his fingers through his fringe of red hair. Dunn shook his head.
“Wouldn’t do us any good even if we knew which rock it was. Not after being in
that water.”

“What happened then? Where
did he go?” Simms urged. He knelt beside me, where I sat on a log near the
crime scene. My eyes were large and scared. I didn’t want to think about it
anymore. But I had to. I had to get it right.

She lay still and silent on
the forest floor. Rain was beginning to fall softly through the trees overhead,
thumping lightly on the leaves before sliding into free fall towards earth.

The clasp on her bracelet
stuck a little, the stone in the heart flickering briefly with iridescent fire
when lightning flashed. The killer stopped, unsure. The flickering heart gave a
moment of unease. Perhaps she was still alive?

No, no pulse. The killer
went back to work, tugging at the bracelet. The old clasp bent and broke under
the strain. Lightning flashed again as the killer left the body behind.

I pointed in the opposite
direction of the setting sun. “That way,” I said. Dunn helped me to my feet.

As time had passed in the
woods, the feeling had grown again. I felt it and I know that Simms did. The
presence of the murderer lingered still in that area. I had seen him peer
around the trees cautiously several times. Dunn, on the other hand, steadied
me. His calm, trusting presence helped me to focus. I took his hand gratefully.

The killer rested his
clenched hand against the tree bark, gasping for breath and glancing around
anxiously. It was hard to find the way in the dark.
Much
harder than it should be.
Thunder crashed overhead as the chain bit into
the murderer’s hand vengefully.

We staggered through the
trees in the fading light. We all three paused, resting against the strong
support of the trees. Just like… I jerked my hand away from the rough bark.

The fresh scent of the woods
grew stronger as the sun sank in the distance. It’s light coming strongly
through the branches, now shedding autumn leaves. I sniffed the strong aroma
gratefully. Closing my eyes and feeling the sun warm on my skin always calmed
me. Then, with a sigh, I continued.

Eventually, the trees gave
way as they should. A lone dirt road marked and pitted with ruts and crannies,
led the way
.

“Which road is this?”
Simms asked, brow furrowed with concentration.

Dunn edged past him, leaping
the ditch easily. Dust kicked up around his shoes as he stood in the middle,
gazing first one way and then the other. Turning to his right, he said, “If I’m
not mistaken, this is the old roadbed that runs on the edge of Tom’s Farm.”

“Where does it go?” Simms
asked as he tried to leap over the ditch as gracefully as Dunn had. He, too,
walked to the center.

I stood alone at the edge of
the woods. Dunn shot Simms a dirty look and then came over to the ditch. He
stretched a hand across, offering assistance. I took it and leapt, landing
easily next to him. He smiled at me.

The old road looked like a
blood red cut through the woods. Trees edged both sides, but it was wide enough
that they didn’t meet overhead, giving the road a sunny appearance. An old
barbed wire fence straggled here and there on metal posts, clinging at times to
trees as if struggling to stay up.

In the distance, several
cows milled with a large gray horse mixed in with them. An old barn leaned
heavily against two large trees in the field. The rusting tin was pockmarked
with holes in places and torn completely away in others. Ivy climbed the gray
board walls, standing out even in the dimming light. The setting sun behind us
gave it a picturesque view.

“I hope your vision isn’t
going to lead us over that fence, because we do not have a warrant for that
land,” Simms commented, but I saw the look the two of them exchanged. I had a
feeling I was leading them towards a place they did have a warrant for.

 

Night was falling as Mrs.
Dodd climbed the stairs to her porch. She opened the door slowly, turning to
wave at Sissy. Sissy tooted her horn in response and backed out of the drive.

Ginger was waiting anxiously
on the other side of the door as she pushed it open. The dog wagged its tail so
vehemently that her whole body started to shake. Pumpkin slid stealthily in
through the door and followed her, trotting, down the hall.

“I hope you haven’t made a
mess in the house,” Mrs. Dodd said, though she couldn’t blame her. It was a lot
to ask of an old dog to wait all day.

She let the grateful dog out
the back door and turned back to the kitchen. The whole house was dark, but she
had flipped on light switches as she came through. “It looks like the psychic
is out and about tonight,” Mrs. Dodd commented to Pumpkin. “I wonder what she
is up
to?

Mrs. Dodd carried on her
conversation with her pets after she let Ginger back in. Opening one of the
frozen packages that Lorene had left, she sniffed it gingerly. “I suppose this
is some sort of healthy casserole.”

She offered it to both the
cat and dog, which both promptly turned up their noses.

“I’ll just say that it was voted
on and disproved by the committee,” Mrs. Dodd said to the animals as she
stuffed it in the garbage can.

She chose instead a motley
assortment of food for supper, including fruit, pickles, cheese and toast. She
offered bits and pieces to her faithful companions and so the three of them
munched happily through a rather large stack.

“We’ll have pancakes
tomorrow,” she said happily, settling herself in her blue chair with a bowl of
popcorn. She pulled her raggedy old house robe around her body and put her feet
up on the stool nearby.

“And then after breakfast,
I’ll have to go back to the library. I have to research a serial killer, you
know.”

Ginger stared at her
intently, as if she understood everything the old lady said. Her ears twitched
and she whined at Mrs. Dodd. Pumpkin purred contentedly on the bed, bathing
himself
.

“But for
now, we must wait up and see what time the psychic gets home. “
Ginger.” She shook one
finger at the old dog. “It’s your job to alert me if she comes home and I’ve
happened to fall asleep.”

Ginger grinned up at her,
tongue lolling to the side as she turned her head quizzically.

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