Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 6) Read online

  “It's fine.” I had to snap out of my trance and regain control of my emotions. Thankfully my phone vibrated, alerting me to a text. “Detective James wants to see me at the station right away.”

  She gave me a pout. “But Peter is on his way here with the kids. I want you to meet my niece and nephew. When will you be back?”

  “An hour or so. I'll give you a call if it's going to be longer than that.”

  Lois walked me to the door. “You think he has some new information about the case?”

  “Maybe.” I feared, however, that the detective had found out that Carter and I had been to visit Cline's widow. I'd have to come up with a damned good excuse.

  Chapter 16

  When I walked into Detective James's office, he asked me to have a seat.

  “What's up?” I said, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.

  “My tech guy found some things on Claire's laptop. Looks like you were right.”

  “Right about what?”

  “She'd been doing online searches for poisons. Specifically, easily attainable poisons. There were several websites about Ethylene Glycol. Which is the main ingredient found in antifreeze and transmission fluid. You can buy it at Walmart or any gas station.”

  I sucked in a breath. Of course, I wasn't surprised, and yet, I couldn't stop trembling. “Does this mean that Norton Cline's death is now considered a homicide?”

  “Not officially. Until we have the lab tests back from his autopsy, we can't be certain of anything. But I will send a forensics team to the bakery to search the kitchen and area to find the source.”

  “She wouldn't have left it there,” I said. “It's probably at her house, or maybe in her own car. Have you checked her Volvo?”

  “I'm on it, Sarah.”

  If I didn't tell the detective about Peter now, he'd find out eventually. Too bad it would have to be from me. “There is a possible lead,” I finally said. “Carter found out that Peter lost a lot of money during the stock market crash in 2008 with a company that Norton Cline used to own.”

  “Why didn't you tell me this before?”

  “Because I don't think Peter is involved. It's likely that he had never met Norton Cline. “

  “Look, Sarah. I understand this Peter is your friend's brother but let me handle this from here on in. You should be watching your own back, anyway.”

  When I left the station, I called Carter to apologize.

  “You were right,” I told him. “I need to distance myself from all of this but I did the right thing and I told Detective James about Peter's affiliation with Norton Cline. Lois is going to be hurt and confused when she finds out I did that. I hope they can prove he's innocent.”

  There was a long silence. “When are you coming home? I feel like shit for walking out of the room during our discussion earlier. Let me make it up to you.”

  “I'm not upset about that,” I said. “You had every right to shake some sense into me. Besides, you might be right about Peter after all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I saw some old pictures that Lois had in a photo album. Peter used to go camping with his kids and they had a white camper, similar to the one I saw in Sanford.”

  “You think it was the same one?”

  “Hard to say. Lois told me he had to sell it during his bankruptcy - maybe he held on to it for some reason. At this point, there's no way we can prove it was the same camper or not.”

  “Maybe there's a way I can find out if he ever sold his camper. His bankruptcy lawyer would have that information but I don't want you to worry about that. When are you coming home?”

  “I need a walk to clear my head. The sun is out and I want to take advantage of it.”

  * * *

  I drove downtown, parked, then grabbed a scarf from the backseat. Even though the sun had made a presence, it didn't mean it was warm outside, especially on the river.

  I grabbed a coffee and meandered the cobble-stoned paths, watching the landscapers prepare the area for the coming tourist season. After twenty minutes, an empty bench beckoned to me, so I sat down with cell phone in hand.

  Should I call Lois and warn her? Did she have any idea that her brother might be involved?

  A voice broke my concentration.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  I looked up to find Mick Kendall, wearing the same jean jacket. “Suit yourself but I have nothing to tell you.”

  “You just left the police station. You must have some news.”

  “I'm off the case, Mick. I'm done.”

  He glared at me. “What? Why?”

  “It's best for everyone involved. That's all I can say.”

  He shook his head. “But I thought you cared. Now you're just giving up? I can't believe this.”

  I wasn't about to share my reasons with him. “Instead of being upset with me, why don't you stop stealing cars and get a job.”

  “I told you, there are no jobs. Not for someone like me and I'm sick of trying to play by the rules because nobody else does.”

  I sipped my coffee, thinking about his comment. He was right. People like Norton Cline could basically steal their clients’ life savings and get away with it. Happened every day.

  Mick sighed. “Truth is, I don't want to be a criminal anymore. I'm tired of looking over my shoulder.”

  “Maybe that's a good thing,” I said. “Perhaps you're ready to start a new chapter. Leave that old life behind and start fresh.”

  “Sure,” he said. “But it's hard to start over when everything has been taken from me. My family, my dignity, my money. It's all gone and I'll never be able to get it back. Before I went to prison, I had been saving up to buy a large piece of property up north. I was going to build a house, for Claire, Adam and me. It would've been perfect.”

  “Maybe that dream is gone,” I said. “But it's not too late to do the right thing now.”

  “I've been thinking about that. I want to turn myself in.”

  “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “Hey, if they arrest me, so be it. I'm just tired, you know? I'm tired of the rat-infested apartment I live in. Tired of being broke and just tired of being so damned bitter about how my life turned out.”

  I understood his need to vent and I felt this was a good step. “So you're ready to go talk to Detective James?”

  “Yeah, but I don't want to go in there alone. If you go with me, maybe you could tell them I'm a good guy, and I just want to help find Claire's killer.”

  “Sure, I can do that. I'll drive you there myself.”

  He didn't make an effort to move. Instead, he took a deep breath as he looked around the park. “Sure is beautiful here, isn't it? I wonder if I'll ever get to see it again.”

  I grabbed my purse and got to my feet, before he decided to change his mind. “C'mon, this is the right decision, Mick. Trust me.”

  Mick didn't have much to say when we got into my car. Hands folded in his lap; there was no expression on his face. He looked numb. Was he having second thoughts?

  I pulled out into traffic, heading toward the police station when he finally cleared his throat to say, “Actually, Sarah, I changed my mind. There's someplace else I'd rather go.”

  I didn't take my eyes off the road. “What are you so afraid of Mick? You know this is the right decision.”

  “I never indented to go to the police station. I just wanted to have a few minutes alone with you.”

  The tone of his voice sounded different, sending a chill through me. “Why?”

  “To tell you how much I've enjoyed our little game.”

  I almost slammed on the brakes. “What are you talking about?”

  “You must have been shocked when you opened your trunk and saw my daughter lying there. Tell me, what was the first thing that came into your mind?”

  Mick wasn't supposed to know that detail. I'd never told him. The only way he could have known is if he'd put her there himself. “You killed her?”

 
“It wasn't part of the original plan. Claire might still be alive if you hadn't been such a nosy bitch.”

  I couldn't swallow. My neck felt so tight, I thought I might suffocate. “You knew I'd been following her?”

  “I saw your car parked behind Claire's Volvo, up at the land. You were in the woods, spying on her. I figured you knew about the money, but I was pretty sure you had no clue why she had it. It was only a matter of time until she blabbered about what we did.”

  I took a deep breath and forced myself to keep calm. Maybe Mick just needed to vent. To tell his side of the story, but I knew better than that. He'd planned this down to the last detail and I bought it, hook, line and sinker. Still, I wanted to know the truth. What could possibly drive a father to murder his own daughter?

  “You obviously want to explain yourself,” I said. “So here's your chance. You have my full attention for five minutes until we get to the police station.”

  “I told you, we're not going there.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of silver in his hand. Then, I felt the sharp edge of a blade on my leg, slicing through my jeans and into the flesh beneath it. I gasped, more from shock than pain.

  “Take a left at the end of this street,” he said. “If you don't, I'll open up your femoral artery and you'll bleed out in less than a minute.”

  He pressed harder and I felt the warm liquid soaking into my jeans. I got the point and decided it would be in my best interest to do as he said.

  After I had taken the left turn, he pointed out the windshield, “At the next set of lights, take a right and get on the turnpike heading north.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked, keeping my tone void of emotion.

  “You'll see.”

  There was only one town that I had been to in the past few days north of Bridgeport. “Sanford?”

  He didn't respond but I had a hunch that I was right. What did he intend to do? Kill me and bury my body in the woods?

  Mick was a rugged guy. Could I attempt to grab the knife out of his hand? No, the smartest thing to do was keep him talking. I'd figure out a way to convince him not to hurt me. “What's so special about Sanford?” I asked.

  “I told you. I had purchased a ten-acre plot of land and planned on building a nice home for me and the kids. When I found out I was going to prison for eight years, I trusted my financial advisor to take care of my assets until I got out. He gave me his word that I'd make triple the money back on my investments.”

  I knew exactly where this was going. “Norton Cline.”

  “I went to see him after I got released. I was so excited to begin building that house on the property. The asshole looked me straight in the eye and said, 'I'm sorry, Mick. That's how it goes sometimes, my friend. I warned you there were no guarantees. The land is gone. Your life savings are gone but all is not lost. Here's a check for ten grand.' I wanted to choke him right then and there. A measly ten grand to start my life over? Barely enough to buy a decent car. That's when I decided to buy a camper and put it on my land.”

  As I merged onto 95 North, I kept my speed to a minimum. Keep him talking for as long as possible. Meanwhile find a way to get myself out of this predicament. “Why didn't you sue him? You must have known there were others trying to bring Norton Cline down.”

  “I had no recourse. He showed me the documents that I had signed away, never bothering to read the fine print. I was a desperate man on his way to prison for eight years. I didn't think to hire a lawyer to look over those documents.”

  “So revenge was the only way to get back at him.”

  “It was the only thing worth living for. My daughter wouldn't speak to me. My son couldn't remember me. I couldn't find a job. So I began following Norton and it didn't take long to find his weak spots. His two favorite things in life; his Bentley and his food. When I found out he went to the same bakery that Claire worked, I took it as a sign. Sure, Claire refused to go along with my plan at first. It took a long time to convince her that Norton Cline was the devil. I gave her five thousand dollars, but what really sealed the deal was the one thing in life that meant more to Claire than anything else.”

  “Her brother.”

  Mick smiled sadly. “I threatened to remove him from his home and place him in a lesser facility. I had the power to do that since I'm still his legal guardian. Claire agreed to do anything I asked as long as I didn't remove Adam from his cushy home.”

  “But when she saw that newspaper article, her guilty conscious took over. She didn't want the blood money anymore and gave it back to you.”

  “That's when I knew I couldn't trust her to keep her mouth shut, and with you sniffing around, it was just a matter of time until the jig was up. I figured, by putting Claire in your trunk, you'd be in fear for your own life. I figured wrong. You didn't back down.”

  The exit sign for Sanford was coming up, which meant my time was almost up.

  Two miles.

  I had to think of something.

  My purse was in the back seat along with my cell phone and pepper spray. A lot of good that would do me. My only hope was to use my brain and keep calm. Then an idea hit me. I could bypass the exit, pretend it was a mistake, which would buy me more time. The next exit was over five miles away. In the meantime, maybe I could talk some sense into this lunatic with a knife.

  “I have to give you credit,” I said. “I never really suspected you. You played a good game.”

  “All the clues were there. You just didn't want to imagine that a father could murder his daughter.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Or maybe I chose to see the good in you.”

  He chuckled. “The good in me? I don't think so. That part of me died when Claire wouldn't bother to visit me in prison. I realized that everything I'd ever done for her or Adam meant nothing. She told me I was dead to her. Well, now she's dead to me.”

  “And then, when you found out that Norton Cline had stolen most of your money, you had to find a way to balance the scales.”

  He snorted. “The world is a better place without the likes of Norton Cline. He deserved to die a painful death.”

  “I can understand how you might feel that way,” I said. “But there was hope for you and Claire. A little more patience on your part and she might have come around. What will happen to Adam, now?”

  If there was a chance that Mick felt anything for his son there was hope for me too. I just needed to appeal to his sense of family and loyalty.

  “Adam will be taken care of,” he said. “I'll make sure of that. My boy never did anything bad. His soul is still pure.” Mick looked out the window just as the exit for Sanford passed by. “You missed the exit on purpose. Take the next exit and turn around. There's no sense in prolonging the inevitable.”

  If I was going to die, why not crash this car into a tree and kill both of us? I had my seat belt on and he didn't. It was a risk but I had better chances of surviving than he did. “Anything happens to me,” I said. “My partner will hunt you down. You don't want to piss him off.”

  “Let him try. I'll be long gone before anyone knows you’re missing.”

  “So you plan to steal my car and go to Mexico?”

  “No, I hate tequila. I'm thinking Canada. Much closer.”

  I maintained my low speed while the cars zoomed past me in the passing lane. No chance to signal to the other drivers that I was in trouble. I could blink the Morse code for help, but Mick was no dummy. He wouldn't believe it if I told him there was a bug in my eye.

  I had to keep him talking. Keep him focused while I thought of a way out of this mess.

  “How did you kill her, Mick? With a rope or something else?”

  “Easy,” he said. “You'll find out soon enough.”

  “So you plan on strangling me instead of a knife to the heart?”

  “Less messy. But I'll use the knife if I'm forced to.”

  He applied more pressure to my leg, and more blood oozed out, soaking into my jeans. I not
iced a rather large pool accumulating and yet, I couldn't feel a thing.

  I've heard that the body, when faced with extreme duress, begins to shut down. Turns out, it's true. I could barely feel my limbs anymore. How long would it take for me to lose consciousness?

  I could see the sign for the exit coming up. In one minute we'd be off the turnpike unless I could think of something.

  My mind was blank.

  Thirty seconds.

  I had to make a decision.

  I put on my blinker as if I were going to take the exit. I slowed down to thirty-five miles per hour.

  This was my only chance to make a move.

  I jerked the steering wheel to the right, holding on with clenched fists. The tires screeched and we bounced over the side, heading for the ditch fast.

  Mick lost his balance and the knife fell out of his hand. I had no idea where it went.

  “What the hell are you doing?” He grabbed a thick strand of my hair and yanked hard.

  “So long, Mick. Hope it was a fun ride.” I aimed for the cluster of pine trees, slammed my foot on the gas pedal and prayed to God the air bags would deploy on impact.

  * * *

  When I first opened my eyes, I still felt nothing. Gradually, the pounding in my head reminded me that I was still among the living.

  Thanks to my seat belt and the airbag.

  I turned to my left and gasped. The whole side of the car was a crumpled mass of metal but Mick had managed to stay in one piece. With eyes closed, he was either passed out, or dead, I couldn't be sure. His airbag had deployed but who knew if it had saved him.

  “Mick? Are you okay?”

  Why did I care? He'd threatened to end my life. He deserved to die.

  His eyes fluttered open. “Sarah?” His voice was so weak, I could barely hear him.

  “I'm here, Mick.”

  “Am I dying?”

  I turned my head and gasped. A hunk of metal had severed his arm. Blood had soaked his clothing. His breathing became labored and a gargling noise made it sound like his mouth was full of liquid.

  “It doesn't look good,” I said.