Beholden (3 page)

“You sound strange. You’re sure you’re all right?” Lynn wasn’t crazy about secrets.

“I… I really need to get away, then I’ll be fine. Please don’t ask any more questions right now. I’ll explain everything later.
I’ll throw some things for both of us in a bag and pick you up in twenty minutes. Just tell your mom we’re going to meet some
people. Okay?” She held her breath, needing Lynn to agree, afraid to be alone tonight.

Something was very wrong, Lynn thought. Terry was not an alarmist. Whatever it was must be terribly important. It never occurred
to Lynn to refuse. “Sure, Terry. I’ll be ready.”

Relief flooded Terry. “Thanks.” She hung up, ran into the bedroom and hauled a suitcase from her closet. Eight minutes later,
she was ready to go. But first, one more call.

Quickly, she looked up Andy Russell’s phone number and dialed. Another answering machine. Still, he could return any minute,
Terry decided. At the beep, she spoke into the phone. “Hi, Andy, it’s Terry Ryan. I really need to talk with you. It’s eight-fifteen
and I’m leaving for our Sedona cottage right now.” She rattled off the number. “Please call me there as soon as you can. It’s
really important. Thanks.” She hung up and stood looking at the phone, wondering if she should have said more. No, Andy would
call.

At the corner of the window, Terry moved the drape aside and peeked out. Her car was exactly where she’d left it and no one
was around. Drawing in a deep breath, she left to drive to Julia Hartley’s.

“Why this sudden trip?” Aunt Julia asked Terry, her round face showing annoyance. “Lynn and I were going shopping together
tomorrow.”

Terry’s face felt tight with nerves, but she forced a smile, not wanting to alarm her aunt unnecessarily. “There’s always
next weekend, Aunt Julia. Or why don’t you ask Mom to go
with you? She loves to shop.” The two women were sisters, but while Julia was quiet and serious, Emily was open and fun-loving.

Julia walked out onto her front stoop with the girls, wishing young people weren’t so given to changing plans. “What did Emily
say about you two going off like this so suddenly?”

“I couldn’t reach her. Would you please let her and Dad know? Tell them I’ll call sometime tomorrow or Sunday.” Anxious to
be on the road, Terry rushed toward her VW.

“I don’t like this,” Julia went on. “Where on earth are you going? It’s already dark.” She touched her daughter’s blond head.
Ever since her policeman husband’s death five years ago, Julia had this irrational fear about her only child’s well-being.

“Mom,” Lynn said, opening the car door, “it doesn’t get any darker. We’re big girls now. Will you lighten up?” Her mother
was as overprotective of her as Uncle John was of Terry. Nice to be cared for, but Lynn found it smothering at times.

You couldn’t keep children with you always, Julia knew, but it was so hard to accept. “All right, dear. Will you call when
you arrive wherever? You know how I worry.”

“Sure thing, Mom.” Lynn kissed her mother, then got in since Terry was already revving the engine impatiently. She could hardly
wait to find out what in the world was bothering her cousin. She’d never seen Terry so fidgety.

“Drive carefully, Terry,” Julia called after them, waving as the Volkswagen disappeared from sight. They were so alike, those
two. Both blond, blue-eyed, just a bit taller than her own five-five. Lynn was a little heavier than Terry, yet they could
wear each other’s clothes and often did. Born only two months apart, they weren’t just cousins but best friends who looked
after each other.

As she slowly walked back to her house, Julia hoped they would do just that on this unexpected trip.

***

She’d thought she’d calm down once they were on the way, but Terry couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed. Noticing
that her hands held the wheel in a white-knuckled grip, she forced herself to relax her hold, finger by cramped finger.

“What’s wrong, Terry?” Lynn asked, studying her cousin’s profile. Terry was acting so out of character that her behavior was
beginning to frighten Lynn.

How could she tell Lynn that less than two hours ago she’d witnessed a cold-blooded killing and that the men who’d done it
had methodically followed her? And worse yet, that Mac, the man who’d been like an uncle to the Ryan children and Lynn, was
involved? Lynn would think she’d lost her mind. Maybe when they got to the cabin and safely behind locked doors, she’d think
of a way to explain the unexplainable. “Lynn, do you trust me?” Terry asked, rubbing her forehead where the headache was sending
shooting pains throughout her entire system. Absently, she lit a cigarette.

“Of course I do. Why would you even ask?” They’d been inseparable since childhood, roomed together in college, and now shared
an apartment. Lynn couldn’t imagine
not
trusting Terry.

“Then please, let’s wait until we get to the cabin in Sedona and I swear, I’ll tell you everything.” Her eyes scanned the
rearview mirror, then the traffic ahead, the headlights making the ache behind her eyes increase. “Right now, I need to concentrate
on driving.”

“You have a headache, don’t you? And I’ll bet you haven’t had anything to eat lately.” Always the more sensible one, Lynn
wished Terry would take better care of herself.

Food was the last thing on her mind at the moment, Terry thought as she took a swallow from the can of Coke Lynn had handed
her. She cracked the window and drew on her cigarette.

Lynn watched Terry’s hand tremble. Whatever was wrong had certainly shaken her friend. Suddenly, the Volkswagen swung erratically
as Terry changed lanes too quickly, then overcorrected, causing the small car to sway. This had definitely gone on long enough.
“Pull over, Terry, and let me drive. I don’t know what happened to you today, but you’re in no shape to drive for two hours.”

Terry let out a shaky breath. Maybe Lynn was right. Without a word of protest, she angled to the right and pulled off on the
shoulder. She got out to change places, her eyes examining every approaching car. “Hurry, will you?” she told Lynn as she
climbed into the passenger seat.

Careful, as always, Lynn eased back into traffic. She was fidgety with worry over whatever was bothering Terry so she had
to concentrate extra hard on her driving. The seat wasn’t right, but she didn’t want to adjust it until the next light. And
the ring on her right hand was driving her nuts.

She slipped the silver ring off and held it toward Terry. “Would you hang on to this for me until we get to Sedona? This darn
rash on my hand is itching like crazy.”

Terry slipped it onto the ring finger of her right hand, then rolled her head around, rubbing her temples. If only the pain
would ease she might be able to think more clearly.

“There’s Tylenol in my purse,” Lynn said, glancing over.

Terry reached into the backseat and grabbed Lynn’s purse. With the Coke, she swallowed two pills, dropped Lynn’s purse on
the floor, then leaned her head back, closing her eyes.

“Fasten your seat belt,” Lynn said. “We’ll be on I-17 in a minute.” When Terry didn’t move, she glanced over at her. “Are
you all right?”

“
Please
stop asking me that. I’ll be fine as soon as my head stops hurting like hell.” And even better when she reached either her
father or Andy Russell. She wanted to hand over this burden of witnessing a murder to others, to be free of it. Brushing back
her feathery bangs, she opened her
eyes and turned to check the traffic behind them. It was dark, but she couldn’t see a car that resembled the gray sedan.
Please, God, let it be so
.

Still concerned, Terry peered around Lynn out the driver’s window. Was the car in the far lane gray? The windows were tinted
and… No, there were only two doors and the one at the garage had been a four-door. Why hadn’t she had the forethought to get
the license number?

“Terry,” Lynn began again, “what are you looking for?” She’d been craning her neck in every direction since they’d set out.

“Nothing. Just drive.” She ground her cigarette out in the ashtray, leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

It was going to be a long trip, Lynn thought as she swung onto the sloping entrance ramp to the highway leading north. She
turned into the curve, then stepped on the brake to slow their descent. That’s when she noticed that the pedal went all the
way to the floor, yet the car was picking up speed on the downward loop. The first rush of panic had Lynn gasping. “Terry,
the brakes won’t hold.”

Terry jolted upright, her eyes wide. “That can’t be.”

Lynn tried to pull out of the curve, but the car was going too fast and the wheel wouldn’t straighten. She could see the cement
retaining wall just ahead of them. Gripping the wheel, she cried out. “Oh, my God, we’re going to crash!”

The tan Volkswagen grazed the retaining wall, spun completely around, carried along by the momentum of the curve, then smashed
into the wall with a shattering crunch of metal. The engine mounted in the rear of the vehicle hit cement, sparking a violent
explosion.

Fingers of fire engulfed the small car as black smoke swirled up into the peaceful evening sky.

He’d never seen anything like it. Officer Charley Drake took out his handkerchief, wiped his damp face, then held the cloth
to his nose. The heat was so intense, the smell of metal and plastic and gas burning vile enough to threaten his dinner. His
partner was in the patrol car radioing for two ambulances. Charley was sure that when they managed to extricate the driver’s
remains, one ambulance might as well head for the morgue.

They’d been cruising along Bell Road about a mile from the I-17 turnoff when they’d gotten the call that a civilian with a
car phone had reported an automobile out of control and crashing. Four minutes later, they’d arrived and the fire hadn’t yet
burned itself out.

Charley circled around the smoking wreckage toward the woman lying motionless on the ground about twenty feet from the burning
car. She’d been tossed free, but he wouldn’t bet much on this one’s chances either. Who’d have thought that not wearing a
seat belt would give her a fighting chance? The older couple who’d witnessed the accident huddled together near the squad
car.

The veteran cop stooped alongside the unconscious young woman, his frown deepening. Her blond hair was
badly singed, but that was the least of her problems. Her face was the worst, with shards of glass from the windows embedded
in her skin, probably from the impact. She was lying at an odd angle, but he knew better than to move her. Her hands were
cut and bleeding almost as much as her face, indicating she’d probably raised them to try to protect herself.

It hadn’t worked.

Carefully, Charley touched two fingers to her throat again and found her pulse, still weak but definitely there. From the
slender shape of her, the poor kid looked to be young, in her early twenties, he’d guess. Probably been pretty at one time.
She may never be again, he thought wearily as he straightened.

“Ambulances are on their way,” Officer Greg Tompkins said, walking over. He glanced down at the girl. “She still alive?”

“So far.” Squinting at an object off to the side, Charley walked over and picked it up. “A handbag. Wonder which one of them
it belongs to.” He opened the zipper and removed a red wallet. “Lynn Hartley,” he read from the driver’s license in the glow
of the squad car’s headlights.

Officer Tompkins glanced up at the sound of approaching sirens. A fire truck and two ambulances came racing down the ramps,
pulling off on the shoulder. “Might as well wait until we get them to the hospital before notifying next of kin.” His gaze
took in the smoldering inferno that had killed one girl and badly injured another. “They were probably going like a bat out
of hell and lost control.”

Charley watched the fire truck hoses begin spraying the burning wreckage immediately. It was their second accident since the
evening shift began. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Damn shame.” A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance and the first raindrops
fell as both officers looked up. Just what they needed.

It was going to be a long night.

***

Nights at the ER at Phoenix General Hospital were usually long. Rainy nights seemed even longer. It was definitely not a place
for the squeamish. Dr. Noah Grayson, a third year resident, was in charge when the EMS attendants wheeled in the two accident
victims. It took him only moments to pronounce dead the woman who’d been removed from behind the wheel, burned beyond recognition,
and move on to the next cubicle. The living had to be attended to urgently. “What do we have?” he asked the ambulance attendant.

“Accident, I-17. Volkswagen spun around and hit the retaining wall. This one wasn’t wearing her seat belt. Got tossed free,
but apparently hit her head.”

“What’re her vitals?” he asked.

Jane Amelio, a ten-year veteran of the ER, rattled off the numbers from the attendant’s chart as they transferred the woman
onto the table. “Vitals steady. Pulse 110. BP ninety over fifty and falling. Apparently glass severed an artery in her neck.
They were able to close it off, but she’s lost a lot of blood.”