Indiana Belle (American Journey Book 3) (33 page)

"I went to the post office. Where's Candice?"

"She's not here. She got a call from a man thirty minutes ago and took off. She didn't say who called or why. She just grabbed her purse and left."

"Did she go to work?" Cameron asked.

"I don't know! She just left."

"Why are you frantic? Did something happen?"

"Yes," Lula said. "Tom Parker came here. He came to the house right after Candice left. He wanted to see her."

"Why?"

Lula took a breath.

"He wanted to confront her. He said Candice had falsely accused him of stealing money from her desk at the
Post
. He said she had cost him his job. He was very angry."

Cameron pressed his temples as he tried to digest the news. This could not be happening, he thought. It simply could not.

"Where are Lawrence and Marjorie?" Cameron asked.

"They went to Vincennes for the day. They won't be back until late."

"What did you tell Tom?"

"I told him that Candice was with you," Lula said. "I didn't know what else to say. I didn't want him hanging around here, so I told a lie. Then I tried calling you to warn you."

"Did Tom leave right away?"

"He did. I called to warn you. I called the newspaper, too, but no one answered. I don't know where Candice is right now, but I'm very worried about her. I'm scared."

Lula started to say more but stopped when Mary walked to the door and started crying. She picked up the toddler, patted her back, and whispered in her ear, but nothing she did or said stopped the wailing. The girl continued to cry.

When Lula stepped inside the house to pacify her child, Cameron used the precious seconds to assess the situation and plan a course of action. Deciding that he needed something to give him direction, he opened his satchel and retrieved the letter from Los Angeles.

Cameron read the letter in search of a clue but found more than a clue. He found the Holy Grail. He found a desperate plea from Jeanette Bell and a photocopy of a document that answered a big question about a big crime.

"… Geoffrey knows nothing of this letter. I mailed it when he was away in hopes that I might save a young woman's life and prevent a miscarriage of justice. Do not worry about my husband or history. Act as you see fit. Let your conscience be your guide …"

Cameron read the letter a second time and the document a third. He held in his hands not only an urgent appeal from an anxious woman but also a deathbed confession from a man who had died with a guilty conscience in 1955. He stuffed the papers in his pocket.

"I have to go," Cameron said.

"Where?" Lula asked.

"It doesn't matter. Just stay here, watch Mary, and lock your doors."

"Cameron, where are you going?"

"I'm going downtown."

"I want to help," Lula said. "Please give me something to do."

Cameron considered the request and decided to grant it. This was no time to be Superman, he thought. He needed all the help he could get and needed it fast. It was time to act.

"Wait ten minutes and then go to a phone," Cameron said. He took a deep breath. "Go to a phone, call the police, and tell them to go to the
Evansville Post
."

CHAPTER 60: CAMERON

Cameron did not waste another minute at the mansion. He tore off his jacket, gave the garment and his satchel to Lula, and sprinted several blocks to a place he knew well.

He berated himself every step of the way. He had naïvely assumed he had altered the course of history when, in fact, he had altered nothing. He would not marry Candice Bell and live many happy years with her unless he first saved her from a killer.

Cameron reached the
Post
at five thirty-five. Knowing that the paper closed and locked its front door at five, he approached the business from the back. He walked briskly through the alley, stepped around a car he had expected to see, and moved toward the employee entrance.

He walked up five metal steps, pressed his ear against the door, and tried to pick up a voice or any sound that might give him a warning or an advantage. He heard nothing.

Cameron placed his hand on the doorknob and moved it to the right. He expected to find resistance but found nothing of the kind. He opened the door, slipped into the building, and worked his way slowly and quietly through a dark pressroom.

As Cameron tiptoed past the printing press – a jumble of rollers, levers, and belts that only a machinist could love – he listened again for voices. Once again, he heard nothing. He began to wonder whether Candice and the man she had agreed to meet were even in the building. Not content to wait for an answer, he pressed forward.

He approached the door separating the pressroom and the newsroom and saw that someone had left it open on the way in or forgotten to close it on the way out. He hoped it was the former. He wanted to believe he had arrived in time.

Cameron entered the brightly lighted newsroom and walked quietly past several desks until he reached the society editor's office. He stepped inside and found an empty chair, an uncluttered desk, and a white purse on a small table by the door. He recognized the handbag immediately.

She was here.

Cameron's heart raced as he asked the obvious questions. Had Candice come and gone? Had she been forced to leave? Was she coming back? Was she still in the building?

He exited the office, walked to the middle of the newsroom, and scanned the area for people or clues. He found nothing. So he stepped forward. He moved quickly toward the office of the managing editor but slowed to a stop when he heard two familiar voices. They were here, he thought. A would-be murderer and a would-be victim had gathered in a room.

Cameron advanced again but stopped again when he heard Candice laugh. He hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected to find anything except tension, anger, and conflict at the
Evansville Post
. Now he had laughter – and doubt.

Cameron hesitated and, for the first time since leaving the mansion, questioned his course. Had he jumped to conclusions? Had Jeanette Bell made a mistake? Could he possibly act on a letter from a woman who did not yet exist? He decided he had no choice.

The time traveler closed his eyes for a second, gathered his thoughts, and stepped forward. He did not stop until he reached the office of a man he had misread from the start.

Cameron did not bother to knock. He walked into the office like he owned it.

"Mr. Coelho," Thad Grant said in a pleasant voice. "What a surprise. I didn't hear you come in. How can I help you?"

"You can help me by not murdering my fiancée," Cameron said. He glanced at Candice, who sat in a chair to his left, and then at Thad, who sat at his desk. "You can help me by surrendering to the police when they arrive."

Cameron knew he had struck gold the second he saw Thad's smile disappear. He no longer doubted the editor's culpability.

"That's quite a comment," Thad said. "Care to explain it?"

"I would be happy to," Cameron said. "I would be happy to explain how you have engaged in criminal activity and intended to dispatch someone on the verge of
exposing
that activity."

Candice glared at Cameron. She appeared angry and confused.

"What are you doing?" Candice asked. "Thad has done nothing wrong. He invited me here tonight to discuss my promotion."

"No, sweetheart, he didn't. He asked you to come in on your day off so that he could get rid of a problem," Cameron said. "Isn't that right, Mr. Editor?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Thad said.

"You do though. That's why you fired Tom Parker today," Cameron said with growing confidence. "You found the perfect scapegoat for a crime you planned to carry out."

"That's ridiculous."

Candice looked at Thad.

"You fired Tom?"

"He fired him today," Cameron said. "He fired Tom right after telling him that
you
had accused him of theft. He knew that when the police found your body they would not hesitate to charge a man you had angered – a black man with a history of violence."

"Is that true, Thad?" Candice asked. "Did you fire Tom?"

"I did," Thad said. "I fired him for stealing money from your desk. I caught him going through your belongings this afternoon."

"That's a lie," Cameron said. "You didn't catch him doing anything. You told Tom that Candice had accused him of theft. You knew he would get angry – angry with Candice – and you wanted every editor, reporter, and staffer in this building to see that anger."

"That's absurd."

Candice stared at the editor.

"Thad?"

"He's lying," Thad said. "He's lying about the criminal activity too."

Cameron took off his metaphorical gloves and went for the kill.

"I'm not though. I'm not. You've been a bad boy, Thad. When you haven't been laundering money through Leonard Heller's advertising account, you've been steering Candice, George Penn, and others away from the center of the biggest crime ring in town."

"Thad?" Candice asked. "Is that true?"

"No, Candice. It's not."

Cameron pressed ahead.

"You had the perfect cover too. As a respected newsman with an interest in civic affairs, you were able to access court records and police reports without raising suspicion. You would have known about a police investigation hours, if not days, before it was launched."

"That's utter nonsense," Thad said.

"The one thing you didn't count on was a society editor who wanted to clean up this town. When Candice asked for hard news assignments, you put her off. When she reported on her own, you shelved her stories or watered them down. Then came the day she obtained an invoice that tied your partner in crime to serious activity. You couldn't ignore her then. You couldn't put her off. You had no choice but to kill her and blame it on someone else."

"I think I've heard enough."

"Give it up," Cameron said. "The police will get you soon enough."

"We'll see about that," Thad said. He reached into a drawer, pulled out a revolver, and pointed the gun at his accuser. "I think it's time we all went for a ride."

"Thad?" Candice asked.

"Shut up! I've had enough of your whining," Thad said. He rose from his chair, stepped around his desk, and pointed the gun at Candice. "Get up and go to the door."

Candice stared at her boss, took a deep breath, and then did as instructed. She got out of her chair, walked past Cameron, and stopped when she reached the doorway.

"You won't get away with this," Cameron said.

"That depends, Mr. Coelho. Unless you've already spoken to the police, you've done nothing today except commit a fatal error," Thad said. "The cops will not find the invoice. They will not find anything that ties me to this so-called crime ring. They will find only two bodies in a field or a pond, if they find anything at all. Now, move!"

Cameron reluctantly complied. He followed Candice through the office door, into the newsroom, and toward a dark pressroom that probably offered them their only chance to turn the tables on their abductor and avoid a bullet in the head.

He berated himself for asking Lula to wait before calling the police. What was he thinking? Did he think he was going to talk a criminal into giving up? He could have saved two lives simply by having her call the cops immediately or even by drawing out his contentious conversation with Thad a few more minutes. Now, it appeared, he had run out of time.

As he followed Candice into the pressroom, Cameron wondered whether they would even have a
chance
to escape. He didn't have to wonder long.

Seconds after the editor stepped into the room, shut the door, and forced his hostages to move toward the exit, a fourth person entered the equation. A large man, hiding in the shadows, stepped out of the darkness and ran toward Thad like a lineman rushing a quarterback.

Thad turned toward the threat and squeezed off two shots. The bullets hit the man, Tom Parker, in the shoulder and the thigh. The first shot stopped the janitor cold. The second sent him to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Cameron did not wait for another break. He rushed Thad and went straight for the gun. He reached the editor, now a proven criminal, just as he turned toward his second attacker.

Cameron reached Thad's right arm before he had the chance to aim, shoot, and kill. He sent the editor and his gun to the floor and commenced the fight of his life.

"Go get help!" Cameron screamed.

The Rhode Islander heard Candice step away but did not hear her open the back door. He hoped she had the sense to save herself and not try to be a hero.

Thad did not take the new challenge lying down. He punched Cameron in the mouth, pushed him away, and began a frantic search for a gun that had disappeared in the darkness.

Cameron rebounded quickly. When Thad turned his back to look for the gun, he pounced on him from behind, grabbed a handful of hair, and pounded the perpetrator's head against the floor.

Thad responded by seizing Cameron's wrist, rolling over, and flipping the meddling doctoral student on his back. He turned the tables on his attacker before his attacker could press his advantage and within seconds was pounding him with hard blows to the neck and the head.

Cameron blocked some of the punches but not enough to make a difference. With each blow and passing second, he began to succumb to a man who was bigger, stronger, and tougher.

He listened for the sound of sirens or police moving onto the premises but heard only the sound of Tom Parker moaning on the floor. He hoped he could hold out until someone could lend a hand and prevent more violence.

Thad could have ended the fight there, but he did not. Apparently convinced that he had defeated his assailant, or at least immobilized him, he let up, moved his head from side to side, and then patted the floor in a desperate search for the gun.

Sensing another opening, perhaps his last, Cameron gathered his strength, formed a fist with his right hand and punched Thad in the jaw as hard as he could. When Thad did not answer the punch, Cameron hit him again and again.