Fogbound: A Lin Hanna Mystery (37 page)

“Let’s check
the barn,” Lin suggested. “That’s where Luke has his workshop.”
 
She led the way.
 
They could see that the front door was
padlocked so they made their way to the rear of the structure.
 
As they rounded the corner, Lin thought
she saw a flash, as if someone had doused a light.
 
Ted saw it too.
 
He eased toward a back doorway and cried
out, “Luke, if you’re in there please come out.
 
We aren’t here to arrest you…”

Lin
interrupted, “Luke, it’s just me Lin Hanna.
 
My friend Ted is with me and we aren’t
armed.
 
We just want to talk to
you.
 
There are no cops here.”
 

Ted had moved
forward toward the door.
 
Lin
thought she heard the sound of movement inside and started to join Ted, but he
signaled her to stay back, away from the door.

Ted reached for
the door handle.
 
Perhaps it was
locked from the inside, but he was going to test it.
 
Just then a loud blast rang out.
 
The door burst open with splinters
flying everywhere.
 
Lin flattened
herself against the sidewall.
 
She
could see Ted lying face down in the yard, propelled away from the building by
the blast of what had to be a shotgun.
 
She was about to start toward him when she saw a figure emerge from the
darkness of the barn—a bent, stooped figure—it had to be Eustace
Hinson.
 
The shotgun he held seemed
almost as big as he was.

Lin didn’t
think he’d seen her, but she couldn’t be sure.
 
She fought the urge to run to check on
Ted, instead inching her way back around toward the front of the barn. The boot
made her progress awkward, but she managed to get far enough to hide behind a
large woodpile at one end of the shed on the side.
 
Her heart was racing, and her breath
came in short gasps.
 
She forced
herself to slow down, to clear her head, to try to think what to do.
 
Somehow she had to draw the old man away
from the back of the barn.
 
She had
to get to Ted to see if he was…she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge the
possibility that he was already dead.
 
She had to get help somehow.
 
She reached in her pocket and felt for her cell phone.
 
There was only one bar—a call was
unlikely to get out and the noise of her trying to talk would only attract the
old man.
 
Just then she heard a
shuffling step.
 
She raised her head
briefly, gazing over the top of the woodpile.
 

Eustace Hinson
was shuffling back toward the house, dragging his shotgun behind him.
 
Lin could tell he was muttering to
himself, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying.
 
She saw him mount the steps to the porch
and open the door.
 
Soon a dim light
appeared within.
 
Apparently, he’d
shot Ted and was just leaving him on the ground outside the barn.
 
He hadn’t tried to come to Ted’s car,
even though it was clearly visible from the house.
 
Then Lin remembered.
 
This was an old man with dementia.
 
He probably heard them driving down the
road and hid in the barn.
 
He no
doubt saw them as intruders and he had a reputation for shooting at those whom
he saw as trampling on his property.
 

Lin knew it was
taking a chance, but she had to get back to Ted.
 
She had to find help for him
somehow.
 
She slowly made her way
back around the barn, approaching the rear, this time from the side opposite
the house.
 
Hopefully, she wouldn’t
be seen.
 
When she reached the back
of the barn she saw that Ted was still lying on the ground, but he had moved a
little; his legs and arms were in a different position.
  
He’s still alive, Lin
thought.
 
I’ve got to get him to the
car—got to get him out of here.
 
We should never have come here.
 
She blamed herself for what had happened.
 
It appeared that Luke wasn’t here and
apparently neither was Sue—just the old man.

She reached
Ted’s side and gently rolled him over—his entire chest was covered in
blood, but Lin couldn’t determine the extent of his wounds.
 
She spoke to him, “Ted, can you hear
me?
 
We’ve got to get you out of
here?
 
Can you move? Can you help me
get you back to the car?”
 
Lin
thought she saw Ted’s lips move, but she couldn’t understand what he was
saying.
 
Finally, he managed to
reach for her arm—he was trying to pull himself up. “ My legs are OK,”
Ted managed a raspy whisper, but everything else hurts.
 
If I can get up, I can probably walk.”

 
“Wait here, I’ll be back,” Lin whispered,
she’d passed a bunch of tools hanging on the far side of the barn away from the
house.
 
She went back and grabbed a
hoe.
 
Perhaps they could use that as
a staff to help Ted move.
 
When she
returned she saw that he’d managed to turn onto his side, but he was still on
the ground. She placed the hoe on the ground and managed to sit Ted partially upright.
 
Placing her hands under his arms,
she dragged him over to the barn wall—he moaned as she did this but
didn’t cry out loud.
 
Her booted
foot kept slipping with the effort—each time sending an echo of pain
through her ankle, but she kept going.
 
Finally, she was able to prop him up against the wall; then she went
back to get the hoe.
 

Ted managed to
grip the hoe with one hand, and, with Lin’s help, he pulled himself at least
half-way erect.
 
He grasped her
waist with the other arm and slowly they began to make progress.
 
The distance was greater going back
around the far side of the barn, but Lin didn’t dare move toward the
house.
 
They were lucky old Eustace
hadn’t heard them yet.
 

Finally, they
reached the car.
 
Lin propped Ted
against the back fender and reached to open the back door—it was
locked.
 
She fumbled in Ted’s
pockets and found the keys.
 
When
she pressed the electronic fob to unlock the doors two sharp beeps rang out,
and the porch light went on at the house.
 
She hurriedly pushed Ted forward into the back seat, tossed the hoe
aside, and jumped in.
 
She started
the engine and quickly threw the car into reverse, backing up before turning
 
toward the road.
 
She’d just reached the bridge that
connected the property to the road when another blast rang out—Lin hit
the gas and the car shot forward.
 
The momentum threw Ted down to the floorboard, and this time he screamed
with pain.

“Hold on Ted,”
Lin said, “at least we’re away from there.”
 
She reached the highway and turned back
toward Boone, heading straight for the hospital.
 

Lin soon
understood why she’d been advised against driving with the boot on her
foot.
 
She felt awkward, having to
tuck her foot back against the seat to keep it from interfering with access to
the brake pedal.
 
Fortunately, it
was her left ankle that was sprained and she could manage.
 
Her ankle was hurting now and the boot
felt tight.
 
The swelling is
probably coming back, she thought.
 
No matter, she had to get Ted to the hospital.
 
Fortunately, the poison ivy rash on her
hands was almost gone.
 
She only
felt a slight irritation from gripping the steering wheel.

Lin heard no
sounds coming from the back seat.
 
Ted must’ve passed out again.
 
She focused on her driving, taking care to maintain a slow speed because
of the wet and fog, better not to rush and risk having an accident.

The trip to the
medical center seemed to take forever; however, Lin observed that it had only
been about twenty minutes as she pulled up at the emergency entrance.
 
She got out of the car and went inside
as fast as she could manage to do so.
 
She recognized the young woman on the desk from her own visit just three
days before.

“I need help,”
she cried out, “There’s a man out in my car and he’s been shot.”
 
Heads turned in the waiting room as the
young woman called for a nurse and orderly with a gurney.
 
Lin followed them to the car and watched
as they carefully removed Ted from the floor of the back seat and rushed him
inside.
 

As Lin went
inside, she was approached by a young aide, “Are you hurt? Do you need to see a
doctor, yourself?”

“No, no,” I’m
fine Lin replied. “I just need to maybe prop my foot up and I need to call the
sheriff’s office.”

***

It was after
midnight when Lin finally left the hospital.
 
Ted had been rushed to surgery almost
immediately.
 
He had lost a lot of
blood, but fortunately none of his major organs were seriously damaged by the
blast from the shotgun.
 
The barn
door itself had taken much of the blast it appeared, although the driving
splinters of wood had torn into Ted’s chest, doing almost as much damage as the
shotgun pellets.
 
His wounds were
primarily focused around his upper chest and shoulder area.

“He’s going to have
a lot of pain,” the surgeon had reported to Lin, “but he should recover
fully.
 
Might need some physical
therapy for his shoulders and arms.
 
He’s a lucky guy.
 
We’re
giving him blood and keeping him sedated for now so you may as well go
home.
 
He won’t be awake until
sometime tomorrow—or rather, later today,” he added looking at the clock.

Lin realized
that the doctor had probably assumed that she was Ted’s wife, or some other
family member, but she didn’t correct him.
 
She wanted to be able to visit and continue to monitor his recovery.

Now she felt
somewhat at a loss.
 
She didn’t know
what to do at this point.
 
She’d
reported the shooting to someone at the sheriff’s office who told her they’d
send someone out to pick up Eustace Hinson, and she could come in the morning
to give her statement.
 
She’d called
Pat Dane and learned that Sue hadn’t been found, and the search had been
suspended until morning.
 
She told
Pat what had happened to Ted, informing her that she’d already reported it to
the authorities so the sheriff’s men would soon know about it.

 
Now she sat alone in Ted’s car not
knowing where to turn.
 
Sue was
still out there somewhere, and she had no idea where to start looking for
her—she’d been so hopeful that they’d find her at Luke’s place.
 
There was nothing left for her to do
except go home.
 
Maybe in the
morning she’d be able to think more clearly.
 
She realized that it was only about ten
in Arizona and resolved that she’d call Neal when she got back to the
house.
 
Maybe he’d have some ideas.
 
In any case, talking to him would help
fill the hole in her heart right now.

Normally the
drive from the hospital to the house would only take about ten minutes, but the
fog had settled in heavily near the Parkway severely reducing visibility.
 
Lin almost missed the driveway.
 
Having left early that morning and
expecting to be home by late afternoon, they’d not left any lights on.
  

As she
approached the garage, Lin realized that the door opener was still in Sue’s car
back at the craft house.
 
Leaving
the headlights on to light her way, she hobbled to the panel beside the door
and entered the code. The welcoming glow of the garage light as the door lifted
made her feel much better.

 
By the time she got into the house her
ankle was throbbing.
 
Lin was
absolutely exhausted, but she didn’t feel sleepy.
 
She was hungry though, so she made her
way to the kitchen and located the leftover pot roast from Sunday’s
dinner—it didn’t seem possible that had only been yesterday.
 
Well, really day before yesterday, Lin
thought—it’s already Tuesday.

She put some
slices of the roast along with some gravy in a dish and placed it in the
microwave.
 
A hot roast beef
sandwich would be perfect.
 
She
dropped two slices of bread in the toaster and sat down at the table.
 
Her first thought was to get her foot
out of the boot.
 
Her ankle had
swollen a good bit; it felt good to get the tight boot off.
 
She realized she really needed to
elevate her foot and decided to get a pillow from the living room.
 
When she tried to put weight on the
ankle a sharp pain reminded her that she couldn’t walk without the boot.
 
She managed the short distance by
hopping along and using the furniture and walls for support.
 
By the time she retrieved the pillow,
her food was ready so she hopped over to the counter to get it before she sat
down.

Finally, she
was all set.
 
Hot food, her foot
propped up on the chair next to her, and a good cell signal.
 
She punched in Neal’s number, hoping he
was still awake.
 
It rang several
times before he answered.

“Hello,
sweetheart.
 
This is late.
 
I thought you’d be in bed by now,” he
said.

“I hope I
didn’t wake you,” Lin replied.

“No, but I was
just getting out of the shower.
 
I’m
at the hotel now, you know.”

“I know, I’m
sorry to be calling at this hour but…” Lin almost choked on her words.
 
She was determined not to break down.
“Oh, Neal, Sue is missing.
 
I think
someone abducted her.”

“What!” Neal
was shocked, “everything was good this morning.
 
What happened!”

Lin had almost
forgotten that she’d called Neal when they left the doctor’s office.
 
She began to bring him up to date on the
day’s events, starting with Sue getting “lost” while looking for visitors
riding in the park.
 
She’d just
reached the part about Ted and her going out to Luke Taylor’s home when she
thought she heard a sound on the back porch.

“Just a minute,
Neal.
 
I thought I heard something
at the door.
 
I’ve got to go check,”
she said.

“Don’t do
that,” Neal replied anxiously, “At this hour and under these circumstances you
stay put.
 
I’m going to hang up and
you call the sheriff’s office immediately.
 
Then call Mark Scott, just to be safe.
 
When you’ve done that call me right
back.”
 
The phone went silent and,
just at that moment, the lights went out.
 
Lin froze in her chair, blinded by the sudden darkness.
 
She fumbled for the phone, grateful for
the glow when she touched the screen.
 
Quickly she punched 911.
 
At
the same moment a rock shattered the glass on the back door.
 
A long arm reached in and grabbed at the
lock.
 

Ignoring the
pain in her ankle, Lin got up and scrambled back toward the living room,
managing to reach the hallway before the intruder entered.
 
She heard heavy steps cross the
kitchen.
 
There was nothing to hide
behind in the hallway; she needed to reach the living room beyond.
 
She managed a couple of hops, but then
was forced to put some weight on her ankle—it was too much.
 
The ankle gave way and she tumbled
forward, knocking a lamp off the hall table.

As she struggled
to get up, she felt the pressure of cold steel against her neck.
 
At the same time her cell phone began to
ring.
 
“Don’t answer it,” her
assailant’s voice was familiar. A strong hand gripped her arm and began to pull
her up.
 
“Hand me your phone, then
we’ll go to the living room.
 
I
don’t want to hurt you, but I have a gun.”
 
Lin recognized the voice and turned her head to look straight into Luke
Taylor’s frightened eyes.

Luke picked up
the phone from the floor where it had fallen.
 
It had quit ringing.
 
He stuffed it in his pocket and reached
with his left hand to help Lin get up, still gripping the shotgun in his right
hand.
 
She tried to speak but
nothing would come out.
 
Luke
shifted the weapon to his left hand and gripped her left arm with his right.

“Be careful of
your foot,” he said, “supporting her as she hobbled toward the sofa.”
 
Lin couldn’t believe what was
happening.
 
They reached the sofa
and she dropped down on one end.

“That ankle’s
badly swollen,” Luke said, “better put it up.”

Lin shifted her
position so that she could rest her leg on the sofa and finally managed to
speak. “What are you doing here Luke?
 
What’s going on? What have you done with Sue Gray?
 
Where is she?”
 
The questions rolled out—Lin
wanted answers?

“Calm down and
I’ll try to explain,” Luke sat in the chair opposite, but he kept the gun
across his knee, still pointed in her direction.
 
Just then her phone began ringing
again.
 
Luke looked down to see who
was calling.
 
“It’s that same 928
number that was calling before.
 
Who
is that?”

“That’s my
fiancé Neal.
 
I was talking to him
when you broke in.
 
He’ll just keep
calling.
 
Let me talk to him,” Lin
reached for the phone but Luke was having none of that.

“No,” he lifted
the gun pointing it directly toward her.
 
“Sorry, but I can’t do that. I’ll put a stop to his calling.”
 
Luke had a desperate look in his eye as
he placed her still ringing phone on the carpet and smashed it with the butt of
his shotgun.

“That’s
better,” Luke said. “Now we can talk.”

“You need to
explain yourself,” Lin tried to sound calm but her insides felt like jelly.
 
Even in the darkness she could tell that
Luke was extremely nervous.
 
He kept
shifting his shotgun from hand to hand and he was sitting on the edge of a
straight chair, rocking it from side to side with his body movements.
 
Lin was afraid that he was close to
completely losing control.
 
She
feared he would fire the gun whether he wanted to or not.
 

Finally, she
gathered her courage and spoke, “You’re right, we do need to talk but we don’t
need to do it in the dark.
 
There
are some candles and matches in the drawer beside the refrigerator in the
kitchen.
 
Why don’t you get some?”

Luke spoke in
almost a whisper.
 
“I flipped the
main breaker on the back porch.
 
I
could put the lights back on, but I’ll need to take you with me—you might
call someone…”

“Didn’t you cut
the phone lines also?” Lin shot back.

Luke shook his
head nervously.
 
“I wasn’t sure
where that one was.
 
Never mind,
I’ll get the candles but, if you move, I’ll shoot you—I promise
that.”
 
Apparently he realized that
Lin couldn’t manage to go very far, even if she tried to get away.
 
He carefully backed his way toward the
kitchen and was back quickly with two candles and some matches.

Seeing how
nervous and unsure of himself Luke was, Lin’s own courage began to grow.
 
“Luke, why don’t you put the shotgun
down.
 
You said we needed to talk,
and we do.
 
You can see that I can’t
really run away—I wouldn’t get far with this ankle.
 
You say you don’t want to hurt me, but I
don’t think I can talk much with that gun pointed at me.”
 
She waited to see how Luke would react.

Finally, Luke
stopped rocking the chair.
 
Then he
moved the gun from his lap, placing it on the coffee table between where he sat
and the sofa where Lin was sitting.
 
He moved his chair so that the gun was within easy reach, but at least
it wasn’t pointed toward Lin any more.

Luke still
seemed very nervous.
 
His eyes, now
more visible in the candlelight, darted back and forth.
 
He kept clenching and unclenching his
hands and a couple of times reached as if he wanted to pick up the gun once
more.
 
Lin tried to wait patiently
for him to say something, but finally, she decided not to wait any more.

“You said we
were going to talk and you have a lot of explaining to do.
 
You need to do it fairly quickly because
the sheriff’s men will be arriving at any moment.
 
Luke grabbed the gun once more, but this
time he didn’t point it toward Lin. “Why do you say that?
 
Did you call them?”

“I tried, but
you broke in before they answered.
 
My
guess is they can trace the call to my cell phone and they know where I
live.
 
Anyway, I was talking to Neal
when I heard you making noise outside.
 
I’d hung up to call the sheriff.
 
That was he calling me back just now—when you smashed the
phone.
 
He’ll call the authorities I
know since I didn’t answer—probably they’re on their way by now.
 
So, if you have anything to say you’d
better make it quick.”

Lin surprised
herself.
 
She hoped she sounded
braver than she felt.
 
Luke had
probably figured all this out for himself—she’d already told him it was
her fiancé on the phone earlier.

“We’ve got to
go then,” Luke said aiming the shotgun in her direction once more. “I can’t let
the sheriff’s men get me.
 
You come
with me.
 
We’ll go somewhere safe
and then we’ll talk.”
 
He nudged her
side with the gun, “Put that contraption back on your foot—no, that’ll
take too long.”
 
He jerked her up
and supported her as they headed toward the kitchen.
 
“Grab that thing and bring it
along.”
 
He pointed the gun toward
the boot.
 
Lin picked it up as they
passed through to the back porch.
 

A pick up truck
was parked just beyond the porch at the edge of the driveway.
 
Luke practically dragged Lin across the
yard.
 
He yanked the door open and
shoved her clumsily into the passenger seat.
 
Then he ran to the other side.
 
He got behind the wheel and propped the
shotgun on the floor between them as he cranked the engine.
 
As they exited the driveway and turned
left, away from town, Lin thought she caught a glimpse of a blue light flashing
through the fog still some distance away from the house.

They rode in
silence for a few miles.
 
Luke was
tightly focused on the road ahead, driving slowly but deliberately through the
fogbound countryside.
 
Lin wondered
where he was taking her—whether he even knew where he was going.
 
Finally, she could stand the silence no
longer.

“OK, Luke, you
said we would talk so talk to me.
 
Tell me what is going on here.
 
Why are you running from the sheriff’s men?
 
It’s the federal officers who have a
warrant for you—for shooting at Sue and me the other day.
 
She could barely see Luke in the
darkened cab, but when he spoke she could tell he was close to tears.

“I never shot
at you two.
 
I knew where you
were.
 
I shot wide, on purpose.
 
I had to scare you away from there, but
I never shot at you.
 
I wouldn’t
have done that only…” he stopped mid-sentence.

Lin didn’t
reply immediately.
 
She’d felt all
along that Luke had deliberately missed that shot.
 
She also knew he could’ve shot her
beside the road, but he didn’t even try.
 
“Why were you trying to scare us away?” she ventured to ask, “and where
are you taking me, where have you taken Sue?”