Death of a Wolfman (A Lily Gayle Lambert Mystery Book 1) (14 page)

“Hey! Why are we cutting through the woods? Wouldn’t it be better to just walk down the road?”

I bit my lip. “I don’t want them to know you’re with me.”

Dixie managed to dig her heels into the ground far enough to pull me to a halt and pull her arm from my grasp. “How are you gonna explain how you got out here?”

“They know I don’t drive so I’ll just tell them I walked.”

“You seriously think they’re gonna believe you walked five miles out here just to visit
them
?”

“Good point. I’ll tell them I was out walking, got too hot and need them to let me in and give me some water.”

Dixie shook her head. “This is nuts. I think they’re going to tell you to get lost. It’s not like y’all are good friends or anything.”

“I have to get them to ask me to come in.”

Dixie burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s like in the vampire stories. You have to ask them to come in. Otherwise they can’t enter your home.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, let’s hope there’s no bloodshed today.”

As I strolled through the woods, I realized she wasn’t following. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

She shook her head. “I think this is a really bad idea. Those boys are notorious for having bad tempers and quick fists.”

“OK, then. If you’re that scared, you just sit in the car till I come back.” I started away from her, counting under my breath. “Make sure you lock the doors in case the boys come out this way.”

Three, two, one.

“All right! I’m coming with you. I don’t want to be out here by myself.” She hurried to my side. “Not that I’m scared or anything, but now that I think about it, you shouldn’t go up to their trailer on your own. I can call Ben if things get crazy.”

Yeah. Right. If something happened, I wouldn’t see Dixie for the dust raised by her trail out of the place. But being a good friend, I decided to let it go. If she wanted to bolster her courage by telling herself she was protecting me, well, then, that was OK. Anything to get her to go along. “Sure. I’m glad you changed your mind. I could use your eyes.”

We walked quietly along a faint path through the woods. Probably an animal trail. At least I hoped so. Because if this trail had been worn by the Taylor boys, it might have been a bad idea to leave the car parked where we had. If the boys caught us and we ran along a trail they’d made themselves, they’d be able to cut us off at the pass before we ever get back to the car. Speaking of needing to make a fast getaway, “Hey, Dixie, did you lock the car?”

Dixie stopped next to me, pulling her keys from her pocket. “No. Do you think I should? I left my purse in there.” She gasped. “You don’t thing someone will come along and steal it, do you? I don’t have much money in there, but I worked my butt off for it.” Her brows drew together. “If I get back to the car and my money’s gone, I’m gonna whale on somebody. It might be you if I can’t find out who actually took it.”

I started through the woods again. “Don’t worry about anybody stealing your few bucks. I was just wondering if the doors were locked.”

Dixie followed me in silence; then she must have put two and two together. “Damn it, girl. You think we might have to make a run for it, and if the doors were locked it’d slow us down.” She stopped again, turning back the way we’d come. “I’m going back. This is bad for my nerves. I need a nerve pill before I can do this. Let’s go back to my house and let me take a pill.”

I grabbed her by the arm, dragging her behind me. “Look. Right up there through those trees. That’s the trailer. We can’t turn back now. You can stand at the edge of the woods, out of sight.”

I left Dixie shaking like a leaf. Truth to tell, I wasn’t quite so nonchalant about the whole thing myself. Not now that I was actually about to go into the trailer. I squared my shoulders, pushing back the doubts. I had to help Ben solve this case.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The trailer sat in a small clearing with a bare patch of ground in front. Obviously where the boys parked their vehicles. The trailer itself was a single wide that had once been white but had faded over the years to an ugly yellowish color accented by rust. Rickety steps led up to the front door.

Hmm. No vehicles were parked anywhere. Well, that took the cake. I’d gotten my nerve up to come out here to find some evidence and now they weren’t there. Time seemed to be of the essence and I might not be able to get Dixie to drive me out here again.

I took a quick look around before I tried the doorknob. It didn’t turn. Placing my head close to the door and hoping I wouldn’t get rusted trailer crap in my hair, I listened. All quiet inside. Reaching in my back pocket, I removed the credit card from the stick-on pocket on my cell phone. A small Swiss Army knife rested in my front pocket in case the credit card didn’t work. Sliding the card carefully between the door and the frame, I worked it back and forth while pulling down.

The lock popped loose just like magic. With one last look around the clearing and back toward Dixie, whose mouth hung open in horror, I entered the trailer.

The smell of stale beer and sweaty clothes almost knocked me back down the steps. Didn’t those boys ever clean this place? Damn. Their sinuses must be blown if they could live in this stench on a daily basis. I felt even more sorry for Samantha. She must have given up trying and just lived the best she could with their mess. Trying to breathe through my mouth and hoping I didn’t inhale anything contagious—or solid—I made my way into the living room.

An expensive big-screen TV took up one entire wall and had two beat-up recliners stationed in front of it. Scattered around the floor were numerous empty beer cans with an occasional whiskey bottle interspersed. I even saw a couple of empty fruit jars I didn’t think had contained fruit when the boys brought them home. Some of the old-timers still made home brew when they could get away with it. Ben had busted a few stills over the years. Somebody must have put up another one, unless those jars had been lying on the floor for over a year. Which, when I considered the state of the trailer, was entirely possible. How would I find any clues in all this trash?

One of the bedrooms would probably be my best bet. I walked down the narrow hallway, trying to avoid clothing and who knew what else strewn in the dimly lit corridor. Peeking into the first bedroom, I saw a neatly made bed with a feminine bedspread. Books crammed a small shelf next to a tiny refrigerator. Samantha's room. Nothing suspicious-looking there.

The second bedroom looked like a hurricane had come through and tossed the contents everywhere. Men’s clothing strewn everywhere and an unmade bed. Nothing of interest in there, except a funky smell I didn’t want to think about.

The room at the end of the corridor was my last hope. Easing open the door, I peeked into the dim recesses. Jackpot. Crammed to one side of another unmade bed was a desk covered with tools. I wouldn’t know a bullet-making setup if it bit me, but this looked promising.

Tiptoeing across the space, I spied bright metal shavings. These could be silver shavings. Crap. I’d left my purse in the car. Scanning the room, I spotted some small brown envelopes and grabbed one. Just as I finished scrapping some of the shavings into it, I heard gravel popping outside.

What the hell?

I rushed back to the living room and peeked out the window to confirm what I already knew: the boys were back.

Shit!
Did this place have a back door? Surely it did. There had to be a law about that kind of thing. Didn’t there? Frantically, I scanned the trailer, spotting a second door in the hallway I’d missed on my way to look for clues. The bad news was that it opened to the front of the trailer, directly in line with the boys.

My feet wanted to bust a move out that door. But my brain argued caution along the lines of
how do you plan to explain what you were doing in their trailer?
to the boys
.
Meanwhile, my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest while the internal argument played out.

After what seemed like an eternity but was probably seconds in real time, my brain came out on top. As I was creeping into the nasty bedroom across from the second door, I heard the front door open. Kicking aside some stinking clothing, I squatted in the dark room, listening to the sounds of squabbling.

“I’m telling you, that was Dixie Newsom’s car out there,” John said.

“Maybe she’s having a little side fling,” Larry answered.

“Don’t be an idiot. Dixie Newsom is too much of a goody-goody to be having something on the side.”

“Well, what do
you
think she was doing out there?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t like it. We’ll have to ask her some questions when we go into town again. Find out what her story is. I’m not wanting to chase her around the woods right now. The race is fixin’ to start.”

The TV came on and I heard the sound of cars going fast. Sunday afternoon. NASCAR. Cans popped open. Probably beer.

Easing my phone out of my pocket, I set it to silent, wondering why Dixie hadn’t given me a heads-up that the boys were coming in. Damn. The phone screen lit up the room like Christmas. Holding it at floor level and halfway under the desk, I changed the screen to less bright, then texted Dixie.

Dix. WTH? I’m trapped in here.

Her response was immediate.
Oh, thank God! I was scared they caught you. So sorry! They blew by me going so fast I didn’t have time to warn you.

I texted back,
Go home. Wait. DO NOT tell Ben. I’ll get myself out of here.

Turning off the phone, I stuck it in my back pocket and leaned back against the wall, contemplating the fine mess I’d gotten myself in to.

A scan of the room didn’t give me much hope. One small window. Nothing else.

Careful not to dislodge the tools, I got on top of the desk to examine the odds of being able to escape via the window. It was a crank style with the pane of glass moving outward as I turned the handle. No way I was going to be able to squeeze out the approximately twelve inches of space available. I pulled along the edges of the window, hoping it might be loose enough that I could pop it out. One ruined manicure later, I gave up. The window was secure and I didn’t see any way I could pry it out. Nothing for it but to take a big breath and hope for the best.

I got against the far wall and took four running steps. The outer door flew open as I cannoned into it. Windmilling my arms, I managed to land on my feet. I heard the main door slam open to my left.

“Lily Gayle Lambert!” one of them shouted behind me. “I see your ass. This is breaking and entering, and we’ll get you when you least expect it!”

I didn’t know I could run so fast. Fear lent wings to my feet. Now if I could just avoid tripping over anything, I’d be home free. Uh-oh. Was that blood pounding in my ears or feet pounding the dirt behind me?

I burst out of the woods, still running so hard I couldn’t brake in time. I slammed into the side of Dixie’s car, fumbled with the door handle, managed to get the door open and threw myself into the passenger seat. “Get us out of here. Quick!”

Dixie didn’t need any directions. She backed the car out of the side area of the road, spun the wheels, slung me into the passenger door, shoved the gearshift into drive and put the pedal to the metal. If this had been an episode of
Dukes of
Hazzard
, we’d have been burning rubber on that dirt road. But those kinds of fake sound effects only happened on TV; we raced down the road in a massive cloud of dust unaccompanied by squealing tires. Though Dixie was squealing enough to make up for it.

“Dear God, help us get out of here without those boys catching us and I’ll never let Lily Gayle talk me into breaking the law ever again.”

I give her my best scornful look as I snapped my seat belt on. “You didn’t break any laws. You just stood watch for me.” I huffed out a breath. “And, I might add, you didn’t do a very good job of it.”

Dixie’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel didn’t stop her from glaring back at me. “Hey, you got out of there, didn’t you? You’re still in one piece, aren’t you?”

“I told you to go on home.”

“Well, where’d you be now if I had? Running your ass off through the woods, that’s where. You should show more gratitude that I waited.”

“Humph!”

Dixie glanced in the rearview mirror. I’m not sure what she thought she’d see through the cloud of red dust rising like a tidal wave behind us, but she slowed the car anyway. “I told you this was a bad idea. They saw you and now they’ll be coming after you.” Her face went pale and she checked the rearview mirror one more time. “We’re going straight to the sheriff’s office to confess to everything. You’re going to need Ben watching out for you now.”

My heart sank. I’d been so sure I’d find some clues and get away clean. Now Ben would have a conniption fit. But at least I had something to offer him. Maybe that would ease his temper. Though, knowing Ben, the clue wouldn’t save me from a severe tongue-lashing. The metal shavings in my back pocket burned like fire against my rear end. My only hope at this point was that the shavings were silver and Ben could use them to connect the Taylor boys to the murder of the wolf man.