Death By Chocolate 6 (Mystery and Women Sleuths) (Josiah Reynolds Mysteries) (17 page)

I must have fallen asleep. When I awoke I was alone in the room. On the other double bed was a note from Matt that he was at the Falls. As soon as I awoke I was to get him and we were all going back to Lexington.

I washed my face and combed my messy hair. My eyes were red and my nose looked swollen. I didn’t give a damn. I was in mourning. Not wanting to run into other guests, I took the side door out to the parking lot and found Matt’s car. It was just too long a walk to the Falls for me.

It only took several minutes to drive to the Falls and find a parking space. Using my cane, I cautiously descended the handicapped ramp onto the flat expanse of sandstone rocks bordering the Cumberland River.

At the rocks’ edge stood Matt staring out at the water.

Carefully making my way on the rocks, I stood beside Matt, admiring the Cumberland River thunder over a ledge to form a pool where the river gathered itself and continued on its windy path to join the Ohio River. A brilliant rainbow formed at the base of the pool and curved upwards until it faded out into the mist.

“How can something so beautiful be so treacherous?” whispered Matt.

I didn’t respond but just gazed upon the rushing green water spilling over the edge. “Let’s go home, Matt,” I pleaded. “There’s nothing but death here.”

“Your bag in the car?”

“Yes. All we have to do is pick up Ginny. I told her to be ready. She should be waiting in front of the lodge.”

Matt took a deep breath. I could tell he wanted to go home. We turned together, making our way past mounds of little pebbles of coal deposited by the river. I had to be careful as the rock bed had depressions that might cause me to fall. Matt helped to guide me back to the handicapped ramp.

“Watch that hole, Josiah. Walk around it. It’s not too much further,” he said, gauging the distance to the parking lot. Suddenly he stopped and jerked me behind him. “Mother fu . . .!” he exclaimed.

An older couple passing us gave Matt a look of annoyance. The man started to say something but his wife hushed him, pulling him down the pathway.

“What is it?” I cried, trying to look over his shoulder.

“I could have sworn that I just spotted O’nan.”

“What?” Fear ran down my spine as I swiveled, glancing from tree to building to tree to car to parking lot. I started to tremble.

“Stay behind me,” again cautioned Matt as he hurried to the parking lot.

A van of tourists had parked beside Matt’s car, providing some cover while they gathered their things and untied a canoe from top of the van.

This gave Matt ample time to check the inside of the car, the tires and finally, after falling to his knees, the underside of the car.

I got in the back seat and lay down. Rummaging through my purse, I searched for my taser.

Matt drove back to the lodge, following other cars all the time looking for O’nan. Once in Dupont Lodge’s parking lot, he pulled out his phone and called Goetz, hoping to follow him back to Lexington.

Goetz answered on the first ring.

Matt quickly told him that he sure he had seen O’nan.

“Okay. Wait there and I will call the State Police and have them follow you out of the park. I’ve already started back, but I can meet you in Corbin and follow you up on I-75. That’s the best I can do.”

“What about O’nan?”

“I’ll check into it. He has a court order requiring him to stay a hundred feet from Josiah. I don’t think it was a coincidence that they were both at Cumberland Falls at the same time.”

Goetz must have driven out of range, as Matt lost the connection. Scanning the parking lot, Matt rushed to meet Ginny as she came out the side door with her bag. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to the car and practically shoved her inside. Slamming her door shut, he hurried to the driver’s side and screeched out of the parking lot.

Ginny looked aghast. “What are you doing, Matt? Slow down,” she cried. “Slow down!”

Suddenly something slammed into the back left door making the car swerve. Ginny and I screamed as the right front tire went over the side of the road, causing the fender to scrape along the guardrail that divided the road from a cliff.

Matt managed to keep control of the car and sped along US 25 until he pulled into a gas station in Corbin.

Goetz was impatiently waiting for us. “Why didn’t you wait for the State Police? I just got a call from them.”

Matt jumped out of the car and pointed, “That’s why.”

Goetz bent over and put his finger in a hole in the back left door.

“What does that look like to you?” asked Matt. “I’m sure you recognize a bullet hole when you see one!”

Scowling, Goetz got out his cell phone and dialed the Lexington Police. “Put a APB on Fred O’nan. Proceed with caution. Armed and dangerous. I think he just tried to kill Josiah Reynolds again.”

Exhausted, Detective Goetz unlocked the door to his apartment and staggered inside.

It had been a long day, starting with waiting for the State Police to find Dwight Wheelwright’s burial site. So far they had discovered much of his remains but not ground zero. Then someone had taken a shot at Josiah Reynolds. Granted, she was a boil on his butt, but she didn’t deserve to be gunned down.

In fact, she hadn’t deserved much of the crap she had had to endure for the past five years. At times, Goetz really felt bad for Josiah. Truth be told, he liked her . . . even admired her, but every time he looked up she was in his face poking her nose where it didn’t belong.

It bothered him that O’nan hadn’t been found yet. The guy was a nutter. Had always been a nutter.

Goetz had never liked him, even when O’nan had been a patrol officer. He had always thought that O’nan was a bad cop. He couldn’t believe it when O’nan was promoted to the homicide division, but O’nan could schmooze people when he wanted something. Obviously he had schmoozed Goetz’s superiors.

Goetz had always hated being witness to the pain associated with his job. He really felt for the families of the victims, but O’nan got off on it. Goetz could see it in O’nan’s eyes. O’nan liked to see people suffer.

As soon as Josiah was tucked in at the Butterfly, Goetz had bothered some judges at their country clubs. He didn’t care that it was Sunday. He didn’t care if they were pissed about having to give up their evening golf games.

He wanted subpoenas. He wanted them bad. Goetz thought he could prove that Dwight was killed in his own house. And he thought he knew why. All he needed was to find was a small trace of Dwight’s blood.

Goetz and his boys would hit both Dwight’s house and the office early the next morning.

But first he had arranged for Officer Snow to guard the Butterfly until O’nan could be found. That ass!!!

Yes, he was bone weary. He was going to fall into bed with his clothes on.

Goetz felt for the light switch, wishing he had left a living room light on, as it was dark in his apartment. It was then he smelled cigarette smoke.

“Eh, eh, eh. No touchy your gun, Goetz. That’s it. Remain very still. Okay. It seems like I’ve got your attention.”

“What are you doing here, Fred?”

“You and I are going to have a little talk.”

Goetz tried to adjust his eyes to the darkness in the living room. All he could make out was a lighted cigarette across the room. O’nan must have drawn all the drapes shut.

“I want to you close the door. That’s it, nice and slow. Now take out your gun and throw it on the couch. Don’t do anything stupid, Goetz. I’ve got a gun trained on you.”

Goetz looked down and saw a red light on his chest. He began to sweat. “Okay, Fred. Let’s take it easy. I’m reaching into my jacket and pulling out my gun. Nice and easy, just like you said.”

“Toss it on the couch, big man,” demanded O’nan.

Goetz tossed his gun on the couch.

O’nan turned on a table lamp next to him. He was sitting in Goetz’s TV chair with several empty bottles of beer rattling around on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” asked Goetz. He really wanted to punch the kid’s face in.

“Before we start our little dance, I want you to stand over there . . . away from the door,” said O’nan waving his gun. “That’s good . . . there. Now I want you to sit on your hands on the floor.”

“Aw, come on,” griped Goetz, noticing that O’nan’s gun had a silencer.

“Just do it, man. I’ve got nothing to lose if I shoot you.”

“You’ve got plenty to lose. A murder rap. A murder of a cop, at that.”

“Shut up. I’m gonna do the talking.” O’nan pointed the gun at Goetz’s feet. “Sit down or you’re gonna be missing one of your toesies.” O’nan grinned as he watched Goetz wrestle his big bulk onto the floor.

“Why did you go after Josiah Reynolds?”

“Did I get her?” asked O’nan.

Goetz could hear the sexual heat in O’nan’s voice when he asked about Josiah. “Didn’t even scratch her. I though you were a better shot than that.”

“Damn,” O’nan laughed. “That bitch has nine lives. That’s why I’m here. I need your help.”

Goetz laughed. “I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”

O’nan frowned. “That’s such a worn out expression. Let’s talk about something new and fresh. Something that will interest you. I mean really interest you.” He held up a cheap little necklace and twirled it in the light.

Goetz caught his breath but kept his face neutral.

“She told me that Grandpa had gotten this for her.” O’nan grinned again. “Cute little thing she is. What’s her name . . . oh, yes, Dottie, short for Dorothy. That was your mother’s name if I recall correctly.”

Goetz remained stone faced. But inside he was crumbling. Goetz was beginning to understand Josiah’s deep, abiding fear of this man.

O’nan reached inside his shirt pocket. “And this is from Michael.” O’nan held up a pokemon card. “He says for me to say hi for him. Has a learning disability, doesn’t he?” O’nan threw the items at Goetz’s feet.

“They both live in different states. How did you . . .?”

O’nan wildly waved his gun while interrupting Goetz. He ranted, “Doesn’t matter. The important thing for you to realize is I know where they live and obviously have access to them. And don’t even try to warn your kids about me. They won’t even see me coming. I have friends. Lots of friends who are only too happy to do things for me because I can buy them. I have lots of money, you see.” O’nan chuckled. “If you’ve got money, you’ve got friends.” He began to sing, “If you’ve got the money, honey, I’ve got the time. Now, who sang that? Goetz?”

Goetz mumbled, “Don’t know.”

O’nan leaned forward in his chair. “You knew my family had money. How do you think I could stay on the run for so long? My mother simply adores me and gives me lots and lots of it.”

“If you touch anyone in my family, I’ll kill you, Fred. I’ll hunt you down. I swear it.”

“You have forgotten our little talk at Highbridge last year. I told you then that I was going to be calling on you. Now everything has been set in place. If you don’t do exactly what I say, one of your little darlings is going to get hurt. Perhaps a car will jump a curb and hit one of your little mewling kiddies or they go missing from their bed. Lots of terrible things can happen. But you do what you are told, everything will be okay. If you don’t do what I say, things will get very bad for you, Goetz. Very bad indeed.”

“Like that girl you raped and almost beat to death when you were sixteen. You didn’t know that I knew about that,” revealed Goetz.

“Those files were supposed to be expunged. How did you know?” O’nan’s voice suddenly became strained and high-pitched.

“I took one of my vacations in your old hometown. Yeah, the files were expunged but old timers like to talk. It only takes a twenty and information just spills forth. I can see why your family moved away. Not very well thought of. The old timers say that you were trouble from the get-go. I think one of them called you a bad seed.”

“Goetz, if you’re trying to get me angry, it’s not going to work. I have the upper hand and know it. Not only will your family suffer but I will make sure it comes out how you were skimming money when you were an undercover cop.”

O’nan raised his gun and shot a family picture hanging above Goetz’s head, scattering shards of glass. The report from the pistol was barely above a whisper as he fired.

Goetz shut his eyelids. Tiny shards of glass sprinkled his face and hair, threatening to fall into his eyes, cutting them if he opened them. He was effectively blind now and totally helpless.

“Now enough of the bull. You are going to do exactly what I tell you to do or you’re gonna suffer, man, I mean really suffer. I will burn you. Burn the heart out of you.”

O’nan leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “There has to be a reckoning. A reckoning with Josiah Reynolds,” he hissed. “And you are going to help me, aren’t you, sunshine?”

O’nan snapped his head forward. “I didn’t hear you. You are going to help me on my date with Professor Reynolds, aren’t you?”

Goetz could not hide the hate and loathing in his voice that he had for his former partner, but he whispered, “Yes.”

It was late at night when Goetz managed to find one of the last payphones in Lexington. He reluctantly inserted coins and dialed the number he had been given.

It rang a few times before someone picked up the phone on the other end.

“The coroner is finished with Dwight Wheelwright’s remains. I just talked to his mother, Ginny. He is going to be buried in the family plot in Whitley County. There is going to be a ceremony four days from now. Mrs. Wheelwright and some of her friends are going down, including Josiah. She will be exposed outside and vulnerable. That will be the only time you will be able to get close to her,” prompted Goetz, looking around to see if anyone noticed him.

“Whaddja tell her about me?” groused O’nan.

“I said you were spotted in Georgia. She thinks you are out of the state. She will feel safe to come out of the Butterfly, but you’ve only got one crack at this.

“Regardless of the outcome, Asa Reynolds will have operatives in Whitley County within forty-five minutes of picking up your trail. You better have an escape plan.”

“Your concern touches me,” O’nan mocked.

“I’ve done my part. Call off your boys. My family is in the clear.”

“I think I’ll keep them in my crosshairs until this is over. Just to be sure you’re not double-crossing me.”

“The thought never entered my mind.”

The man on the other end chuckled. “Yeah. Sure,” he said before hanging up.

Goetz slammed the phone back in its cradle. Taking out a handkerchief, he wiped off his fingerprints.

Getting back into his car, Goetz noticed that his hands were shaking. He leaned over to the glove compartment and pulled out a chrome-plated flask. Tilting the flask, he took a deep drink of bourbon. It burned going down. Goetz wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He caught his reflection in the rearview mirror. His eyes were wide with apprehension.

This was not going to go down well. Not well at all.