Bullet in the Night (22 page)

“Cute.” I whistled.

He ignored me. “Okay, tell me why we’re doing this.” He started the car and we were off.

“I want to know how long it takes to climb the hill and return to a car parked below. The sniper could have driven up Lenora’s driveway and walked around the house into the woods, but if so, Lenora would have heard the car. Chances are he or she came up the back through the woods on foot. It’s likely a car parked somewhere back there would have gone unnoticed because the houses are so spread out.”

When we reached the spot where I told him to stop, Nick examined the map. “What are these dots?”

“The dotted lines show the easiest area to climb up from the road below. I’m guessing the police were so sure Kirk did it that they didn’t expend manpower checking details. They figured when Kirk pulled up to Lenora’s the night of the shooting, he’d been there earlier and came back with a weapon to shoot her.”

“And Kirk said he was an hour late for his appointment with Lenora because of a flat tire.”

“Remember though, I doubt Kirk is capable of that kind of duplicity.”

“The police wouldn’t waste men investigating a case they see as clear-cut. Okay, let’s go.”

Nick put the convertible top up.

“Perfect timing. I want to start up the hill just before it’s completely dark.”

I pulled two flashlights from my backpack. Before we exited, I checked the back seat and flipped the door locks. I didn’t want to return to a guy crouched inside. It showed how jumpy I was.

“As we ascend, keep your eye out for anything unusual, broken branches or an item that would indicate someone trekked through,” I said.

“Big deal. The police roamed through here, so we’ll be on their trail.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” I checked my watch. “Let’s head up.”

Halfway to the top, two paths about sixty yards apart converged into one.

I glanced at Nick. His mouth was set in a grim line. “Look happy, love.”

“Sorry. Hunting for evidence of a potential killer doesn’t thrill me.”

“Me either.” I shuddered.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The ground, strewn with wet leaves, nearly obliterated the narrow, ancient path. I let Nick lead. He parted the mass of brambles. A thorn bush snapped back, and I blocked the sure slap in the face with a quick hand in front of my face. This area hadn’t seen tourist traffic ever. Forging through the brush with no designated path was far from a fun walk.

Every now and then Nick mumbled, “This was a dumb idea” to let me know how thrilled he was to be here, in case I forgot.

“Thanks for coming, sweetie. Keep your eyes open. I think the shooter came up this way.”

“Why do I let you talk me into these things?” Nick’s voice reeked frustration.

“I will admit, it’s tougher than I expected. I’ll lead for a while.”

“Why couldn’t we do this earlier in the day?”

“I told you. I wanted to see it at dusk.”

“Some view. Even if there were evidence here, nature’s quick to cover man’s intrusions.”

Snarled, thick vines scarfed broad oak branches. We entered an area where the terrain resembled more jungle than forest with thick foliage.

I struggled to keep a steady pace, using my flashlight to sweep the area in front of us. Not that it was totally dark, but the light helped illuminate shadowy areas, and I also hoped it would warn any critters to move out of the way.

We penetrated a chunk of particularly dense woods. I held out my arm and stopped.

“Nick, did you hear that?”

“What?”

“It sounds like a car creeping along the road beneath us.”

“So?”

“Cars usually speed by here; they don’t creep.” I looked down the trail. Trees blocked my view of the road. No lights were visible, so if there was a car below, its headlights were off.

I grabbed Nick’s arm. “I heard it again.”

“Somebody probably saw our car down there and wondered what kind of crazy people were up here walking around.”

“Not necessarily. They might think we ran out of gas and went for help.”

“Whatever. Come on, Girl Scout. Let’s get this over with.”

I waited a few more minutes but heard nothing.

“C’mon. Whoever had been down there must have moved on.” I whispered to Nick, as if the animals were interested in overhearing our conversation. “I had told Tucker to leave the house lights on in Lenora’s study when he went back to the hospital. Hopefully he remembered.”

We continued to thread our way up the trail with care. I stumbled on a fallen pine tree jutting into the trail.

“Be careful,” Nick snapped.

“I’m trying.” I worked to keep irritation out of my voice. “When I was a child I remember running into the woods behind our house looking for places to hide. I’d pretend the huge oaks were guards protecting me.” I fell silent, reliving struggles of my childhood and the emotional quirks I’d developed for survival in an alcoholic home.

Two hundred feet from Lenora’s house we came across an actual once-upon-a-time-used trail, bordered by long overgrown day lilies now struggling for existence. Rocks set about two feet apart on either side of the trail showed someone had once cared for this section of woods. The trail split into a “Y” with two forks as it approached the rear of Lenora’s house. At the center of the “Y” sat an old, weathered, almost hidden, bench.

“Look, Nick. Long ago somebody dragged a bench from the house along this rugged narrow path. It’s a perfect spot for seeing the house.”

“But how would the sniper know the bench was here? Certainly Kirk wouldn’t know these grounds unless he did yard work for Lenora.”

“I asked. He didn’t. Estelle said Lenora’s had the same gardener for years. A gentle old fellow—very unlikely he’d have a motive to shoot her or be capable of scurrying back down this hill if he did.” I lowered my body gingerly onto the bench, testing out the once-green wooden slats. Could it support my weight? It was probably strong enough to survive ten children.

Lenora’s house was now visible straight ahead. We had a clear view across the rear deck into the study. “Someone waited here for the light to go on in Lenora’s study.” I pointed to show Nick the line of access. “They could see her exactly where she sat.”

“The view is good, I agree. The police would have found this spot when they checked the trajectory of the bullet, and they should have combed the area.” Nick scanned the ground with his light.

“They might not have, not with Kirk all wrapped up with a bow. Move the beam slower. The police would have looked at this spot after they had Kirk in custody and assumed he was the perpetrator.”

“They still had a job to do.”

“How thorough would they be?”

He shrugged.

“Let’s synchronize our flashlight beams.”

We scanned the ground inch by inch then raised the level of the light in one foot increments making a circular sweep within a diameter of about eight feet. It was tedious. We had to move slowly. About five feet up, I elbowed Nick in the ribs, calling his attention to the low-hanging branch I illuminated. “I think I see something. Keep your light steady right there.” I walked over to where a speck of white had caught my eye in the sweep of the flashlight.

Nick edged closer. “What is it?”

“Something caught.” I pulled a glove from my pocket, slipped it on and reached up pulling a tiny rectangle of cloth from under a leafy branch. It had green thorns on it that I removed one by one.

“Looks like a clothing label.” Nick read, “’Members Only’ A popular brand. Maybe it got plucked by this branch as the sniper ducked under, that is, if it was already loose to begin with. Otherwise the tugging would have been noticeable.”

I studied the tag. “Maybe there was the sound of a tear, maybe not. You can’t stop if you’re rushing away from a crime scene. Lots of branches the shooter would have brushed against, maybe even got caught on. The missing label probably wouldn’t be noticed afterwards.”

“If it was here after the sniper attack, why didn’t the police find it?” Nick helped me put it in the plastic bag I brought.

“It was blocked by all these leafy branches. During the day it’d be harder to see. The darkness accentuates the white. When the police searched the area, the white was less obvious.” I put my arm around Nick’s shoulder. “So it is good we came tonight. I’m lucky I happened to catch it in the flashlight beam. I doubt the shooter knew it came off.”

“Wait a second, Jennifer, we’re making assumptions. This could be anybody’s, even from a policeman’s jacket.”

I frowned. “Like they wear Members Only?” I turned the slightly off-white, inch-high label over searching for a size. “Perhaps it came off an unzipped jacket or maybe he got hot and took it off and carried it.”

“One point in favor of this being left the night of Lenora’s shooting is it couldn’t have been outside long or it’d be more battered.”

“You’re right. The timing is perfect.” I adjusted my cap.

The soft murmur of a motor drew our attention to car lights moving slowly across the road beneath.

I froze. “The creeping car is back again. This time with lights.”

Nick grabbed my hand. “Someone checking on us?”

I snapped my flashlight off. “Put out your light. We don’t want anyone seeing us,” I whispered. We remained still a few minutes until the car was no longer visible.

Nick nudged me. “Let’s finish up. Since you picked up the label on the right side of the fork, we’ll look around some more there.”

We flipped our flashlights back on. The trail twined around raspberry bushes with thick green underbrush filling gaps between them. I stopped at a spot where brush had been pushed to one side.

“Nick, why do you suppose Lenora’s assailant didn’t get closer to the house to make sure he or she didn’t miss?”

Nick shrugged. “Too much risk. Or maybe supremely confident of his or her shooting ability.”

“Okay, I’ve seen enough. Let’s head back.”

The trip going down was harder because of the wet, slippery leaves.

We were halfway back to the car when a shot split the night air.

“Hit the ground,” Nick yelled.

No need to give orders. I’d already plunged to the earth.

Nick dropped on top of me. Moist leaves pressed into my face. My heart beat so fast, it pulsated against the earth. I feared I’d pass out.

Another bullet ricocheted off a tree near us.

“That was too close.” Nick’s hot breath panted against my neck.

Then silence. We waited. I lost all sense of time.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so,” I said, trembling.

Leaves crackled and branches snapped just below us as someone raced through the woods. I sprang up and took off toward the sound. Nick was right on my heels.

He yelled, “What are you doing? We’re not armed. This is ridiculous. We’ll never catch up.”

“I want to see the car down there.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Nick charged out in front of me.

I slid down the hill and fell headfirst, barely missing hitting my head on a rock. Nick returned to help me up. Leaves clung to my jeans. The gloves protected my hands from what would have been bloody scratches.

The car below turned on its motor and pulled away without turning its lights on. “Strange.” I strained to see the make of the car. It was too dark and far away.

“Jennifer, this escapade is dangerous. Somebody just tried to kill us.”

“Or scare us enough into quitting.”

I struggled for breath and checked my pocket for the label.

“Not a chance I’m giving up now.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Nick and I drove in silence to the police station to report the shooting. On top of his displeasure over our evening hike, I knew he had to be starving. The aroma of burger and fries inside somebody’s office made my mouth water too.

I didn’t waste time going into detail about what we were doing in the woods, only spit out the main points about the shots. The sergeant, curt and efficient, was non-committal as he listened. I’m not sure why, but I chose to not mention the label and fortunately neither did Nick.

The officer handed Nick paper and a pencil. He drew a rough map, showing our location in relation to the area where the shots were fired. “You should have no trouble finding bullets in daylight.”

The sergeant sighed and grumbled but filled out a report and promised to investigate. “We’ve had some young gang members infiltrating our area. Kids take pot shots to scare people. We’ll get right on it but don’t expect we’ll turn up much. These kids are a smart, nasty bunch.”

On our way out, I poked Nick. “Do you think they’ll follow through?”

“They have to at least make a semblance, but after what he said, it may be a waste of time.”

* * *

After an uneventful work day, the next evening I returned home as Estelle was packing her cleaning rags following her monthly, deep scrubbing visit. The house smelled deliciously of bleach and furniture polish, two of my favorite scents after Red Door perfume.

“Almost done, Dr. Trevor. I’ll be out of your way soon as I finish and return the vacuum cleaner and supplies to the utility room.” She twisted the vacuum cord around its hooks.

“After I change I’m headed there also, to put in a load of laundry.”

As I filled the washing machine, Estelle shelved her cleaning items. We chatted briefly about our children.

Out of the blue she turned to me and said, “Funny you and Mrs. Lawrence don’t lock your office like Mr. Lawrence and you got all those important personal papers.”

I dropped in two more towels as I responded automatically. “Estelle, we lock our counseling files in cabinets. It’s the law. It’s not necessary to lock doors to our home offices if our files are locked.”

“Mr. Lawrence’s office in the basement has got double locks. I don’t go near it.”

I stopped midair pouring soap into the machine. How would she know that unless she’d tried to get in? “Estelle, will you repeat what you said.”

“I’m not allowed to clean the locked basement room Mr. Lawrence uses for his home office. Seems a bit peculiar. I can’t help wonder why. But then, I expect his research is real private and important.”