Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 03 - An Apple a Day Keeps Murder Away (8 page)

“You don’t like anyone,” I chided her.

“That isn’t entirely true,” she said.
“But I most certainly do not like him.”

“Can we go eat, please,” said Jackie.
Her stomach grumbled loud enough to earn her a few passing looks from people.

A
harsh male voice broke our plans. “Miss Summers,” said a male officer.

“Yes,” I replied
, cautiously.

“I am placing you under arrest.”

“For what?” demanded Aunt Ethel, her face turning red.

Befor
e I had a chance to respond, an officer turned me around and wrenched my hands behind my back handcuffing them.

“I’m talking to you,” shout
ed Aunt Ethel to the arresting officer.

He stopped and stared at her in frustration.
“Ma’am I need you to leave.”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” said Aunt Ethel.
I had never seen her so incensed. “I demand to know what the charges are that you have brought against my niece.”

“Murder,” said the officer.

That shocked us all. Murder? According to Calvin they hadn’t enough evidence to arrest me unless they found—a body.

My heart sank as the realization hit me.
The body that the blood on me belonged to must have turned up. Now there was nothing standing in the way of Mr. Harrow arresting me and trying me for murder. My world spun around me. I couldn’t believe it.

Within minutes I had been shoved into the back of a police cruiser.
This marked the third time I had been arrested and driven to the station. Suddenly, I found myself wishing I had never come to Vermont. Such wishes were foolish at the moment as I had bigger problems.

Rachel appeared in the backseat with me.
“You want me to take over the car?”

“That won’t solve anything,” I whispered to her.

“I have to do something,” she said.

“There’s nothing you can do,” I said to her making certain that the officer couldn’t hear me.
“Not unless you can get the real murderer to show himself.”

“You mean—”

“There is no other way to prove my innocence,” I whispered. “The real killer, the man who kidnapped me needs to give himself up.”

“Who are you talking to back there?”
The officer driving the car must have heard my last statement. He glared at me through the rearview mirror.

“Myself,” I replied.

“AHA! I got it!” Rachel got a hopeful look on her face. I knew she had had an idea, but at the same time wished she hadn’t. Every time she got an idea I got into trouble. Though, my situation looked pretty bleak as it was. She vanished without so much as a good-bye.

Within moments we had pulled into the police station.
For the second time in my life I found myself being fingerprinted and having my mug shot taken. Then, I was led into an interrogation room where I waited for what seemed like an eternity. It probably was more like half an hour.

Mr. Harrow and Detective Shorts walked in at the same time.
Mr. Harrow appeared very happy while Detective Shorts looked grim and upset.

“Miss Summers,” said Mr. Harrow taking a seat across from me.
Could he look anymore smug?

“Just a moment, Mr. Harrow,” said Detective Shorts.
“We must wait until her attorney arrives. I took the liberty of calling him.”

Mr. Harrow looked downright pissed when he heard that.
“You called him?”

“Yes,” replied Detective Shorts.
“The law states that you cannot interrogate her without her lawyer present, unless of course she chooses to waive that right.”

“I want my lawyer,” I said mechanically.
That pleased Detective Shorts, but angered the District Attorney even more.

Right on
cue Calvin walked into the room. He looked sharp as usual in his tailored suit. Quickly, Calvin placed himself in a chair beside me and set his briefcase on the table. “What are the charges against my client?”

“You know the charges,” said Mr. Harrow.

“I believe in being formal,” said Calvin, “I want you to publicly state the charges so that the recorder in the room can hear it.”

“Mellow Summers is
charged with the murder of Byron Sanderson. The college student that went missing over a week ago,” said Mr. Harrow.

“But I didn’t—”

Calvin raised his hand to stop my outburst. “You do not have to answer any of their questions,” he said.

“Where we
re you the night your friend Jackie reported you missing?” asked Detective Shorts.

“You do not have to answer that,” said Calvin to me.

I followed his advice. How could I answer? I had no memory despite the hypnosis. Actually, I wanted to tell Calvin about it, but hadn’t had the chance as events moved even more quickly. So I kept my mouth shut.

“Miss Summers, I do not need you to say anything,” said Mr. Harrow.
“With the body that has now been found and the fact that his blood was found on your clothes when you turned up in that motel, I have enough to put you away for a long time.”

“Are you threatening my client?” asked Calvin.

“No. Merely offering her a chance for a plea bargain,” replied Mr. Harrow. “If she pleads guilty and signs a confession now, I will see to it that she gets no more than ten years in prison. She may even be eligible for parole in half that time with good behavior.”

That just boiled my blood.
I had never killed anyone and this guy had been after me since the night I turned up smothered in another man’s blood.

“I will discuss it with my client,” said Calvin.
“Alone.”

“Very well.”
Mr. Harrow stood up and waved Detective Shorts out the door.

“And I want a copy of the forensic report,” said Calvin.

“What?”

“I a
m assuming that an autopsy was done on the body so as to gather forensic evidence against my client,” said Calvin. “You do realize that you must provide me with a full copy of that report.”

“You will get it when the autopsy is finished,” said Mr. Harrow.
He left the room.

“I’m not signing anything,” I said.

“I didn’t think so.”

“How can he arrest me without a forensic report?”

“Probably figured he didn’t need one. And the judge must have agreed since he signed your arrest warrant.”

“I need to tell you something,” I said.
I relayed the trip to the hypnotist and what happened. I told Calvin all that I could remember from the flashes of memory that hit me while there.

His face changed from interest to concern as I told him.
I don’t know if he believed me, but I knew he would seek out Dr. Carver for the tapes of our session.

W
hen I had finished talking, Calvin opened the door to the interrogation room. Mr. Harrow walked in with a haughty look. He knew he had won.

“My client refuses to plea bargain and will sign no confession.
We will try this in the courts.” 

“As you wish,” said Mr. Harrow.

Next thing I knew, I was led to the jail cell. As I entered the corridor, Aunt Ethel’s voice reached my ears. That woman had a piercing voice. “Detective Shorts,” she screamed, “I need to speak with you. Detective!”

A loud crash sounded out in the lobby, but I never found out what caused it.
An officer took me away and locked me in one of the jail cells. I was the only one there. I didn’t know if I should be relieved or worried. 

My time in the cell dragged on the longer I was there.
I had no idea how much time had passed. The clock on the wall didn’t work and I had forgotten to wear my watch.

I soon found myself wishing Rachel would show up.
Though at the same time I wished she wouldn’t appear. I needed to know what she was up to. That look in her eyes when she left me in the car did not bode well.

As the hours ticked by I paced in a circle in my cell
thinking that at any moment a hole would appear in the floor. Soon, I decided I had to do something. I remembered watching movies where the main character would do pushups or something when imprisoned. I decided to try it. One. Two. And that’s enough. I silently vowed that once I got out of here I would start an exercise regimen.

The door to the cell chamber opened.
In walked Detective Shorts. He looked even more unhappy than he did earlier.

“What’s going on?” I asked as he approached my cell.

“Transfer,” he said. “You’re being transferred to the county jail. Now, step back.”

I did.

He opened the cell door.
“Turn around and place your hands behind your back.”

I obeyed.
Once again I felt the cold and unfeeling handcuffs snap around my wrists.

Detective Shorts grabbed my arm and led me out of the jail.
He took me past a counter and sat me on a bench. “Stay here,” he told me, “I need to clear your release to County.” 

Like, where was I going to go?
I thought something about this seemed strange. Why would I be transferred anywhere? According to the clock in this room I had been here for eight hours. When Detective Shorts didn’t come back right away I started to think that something was seriously wrong. When the officer at the counter disappeared I knew that something wasn’t right.

I was about to stand
up when I felt a sharp prick in the base of my neck. Instantly, I whipped around to see who had stuck me with a needle when the world went blurry. Whoever stood behind me, I never saw his face. Before I knew it, everything went black and I lost consciousness.

My head hurt.
My body bounced around in a confined space. The sounds of a car engine told me that I was no longer in the police station. Groggily, I tried to sit up. Bang! I hit my head on something. The darkness prevented me from being able to see where I was.

I shifted a little.
My hands remained handcuffed behind my back. Instantly, pins and needles filled my hands as the blood flowed back into them. Another jolt caused me the bounce and hit the thing above me.

Slowly, I realized that I lay in the trunk of a car.
My scrunched up limbs desperately wanted to stretch out, but the small space prevented me from doing so. I shifted again. It didn’t do much good. The small trunk prevented me from doing much.

The sound underneath me changed.
I listened intently. After a few seconds, I recognized the sound as that of a car traveling on gravel. So we had left the highway and entered one of the many county roads, none of which were paved. Unfortunately, I had no idea where I was.

Thoughts of never seeing Jackie or Greg again fluttered through my mind.
I even worried that I wouldn’t see Aunt Ethel either. All of this meant that my situation was dire. I found myself hoping that I would live to see them again.

The car slowed.
Were we stopping? Nope. It turned left and then took off again at what I thought was a fast pace for a dirt road.

“Rachel,” I said to the dark.
I didn’t think she would really hear me, but there was little else I could do.

“Mel?”

“Rachel?” Hope filled me. She was here.

“Yea, it’s me,” said Rachel from outside the trunk.

“Where are you?”

“On the trunk of the car.”

“How—”

“Ghosts are not subject to the same laws of physics,” replied Rachel as though she read the question on my mind.

“Where am I?” I asked.
“What happened?”

A pause took place befor
e she answered. “Well, your aunt and I had a great plan for drawing out the man who set you up. You were to be transferred to the County Jail in the hope that the guy who framed you would try to get to you.

“It worked.
Except, he wasn’t supposed to be able to get you out of the station. The cop at the counter left his post.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your aunt badgered Detective Shorts until he agreed to go along. He released a story about how you got your memory back and knew, in detail, who had kidnapped you. He even claimed to have a warrant for that man’s arrest.

“Then he placed you where he did to entice your kidnapper to come for you.
He did. Unfortunately, there was a back exit that no one thought to cover, so he was able to escape with you.”

“So,” I said, growing angry, “You and Aunt Ethel created this ruse to force my kidnapper into the open.
And now I’ve been kidnapped again? And what have you been doing? Sitting on the car the entire time?”

“No!”
Rachel sounded hurt. “I didn’t know where you were. But then I heard you calling for me. I’ve already informed your aunt about where you are.”

“Can you get me out of here?” I asked her.

“Unless the car stops it won’t do much good to open the trunk,” said Rachel.

“Then stop the car!”

“I’m thinking of how to do it without causing an accident,” said Rachel. “You could get hurt.”

I hadn’t thought of that.
Of course she was trying to get me out of this situation and my anger wasn’t helping matters.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said.

The car jerk
ed again. I quickly grew tired of all the bouncing around.

“I know!”

“Rachel?”

No answer.

“Rachel?”

Still no an
swer. She had left. I felt completely alone without her there.

Suddenly, the car
jolted and screeched. It swerved left and right for several seconds before coming to a complete standstill. The engine shut off. I heard a male voice cussing as he tried to start the engine again. The car whined but would not turn over.  The trunk opened.

“Quick,” said Rachel.

My rubbery limbs did not want to work.
Somehow, I managed to crawl out of the trunk despite the fact that my hands were still cuffed behind my back. The driver’s door opened. My assailant had noticed my escape.

“Go,” yelled
Rachel.

I ran.
It was dark outside, though a faint light rested on the horizon. Sunrise must have been approaching. I didn’t pay much attention to it. I stumbled as I clumsily ran into the brush in an effort to get away. Unfortunately, I had no idea where I was going.

A door sl
ammed. I knew that my kidnaper had come after me. He stomped through the brush after me with his steel toed boots.

I crashed through more bushes.
My lower leg stung a bit as a sharp thorn cut my skin. I continued to run blindly into the overgrowth.

I paused ducking behind a bush.
Footsteps came closer. My kidnapper hesitated nearby me. Desperately, I slowed my breathing trying not to make any noise.  The darkness prevented me from being able to see his face and probably hid me as well. He stomped around a bit, swore, and walked off.

I released a slow breath relieved that he hadn’t found me.
My predicament was far from over and I knew it. I jumped back to my feet wishing that my hands were free.

Carefully, I picked my way through more of the brush.
I had hoped to make my way back to the road, but I had gotten so turned around in my attempt to get away that I had no idea where I was.

“Rachel,” I whispered.
I really needed her.

My foot caught in an upturned tree root.
Instantly, I found myself falling face first toward the ground. With my hands bound I had no way of catching myself. Air escaped my lungs as I landed on my stomach.

I rolled onto my back gasping for air.
A twig snapped. He was close. With an immense amount of effort, I hauled myself to my feet and took off once more. I ran as fast as I could unaware of where I headed. Breathing heavily, I chanced a look behind me. Nothing.

Suddenly, my kidnapper jumped out from behind a tree.
I stopped. Before I could turn and escape, cold fingers wrapped around my arm and shoved me against a tree trunk.

Now, I finally got a look at my kidnapper’s face.
It was Jeremy.

“Thought you could get away,” he sneered.

The growing light in the east showed a mad gleam in his eyes. The picture of calm he had presented to my aunt had disappeared to be replaced by a madman. Sirens sounded in the distance.

For a moment I had hoped they would get here in time.
That hope was quickly dashed when Jeremy pulled out a knife.

“What the hell is going on?”

Jeremy didn’t answer my question at first.

“Why have you kidnapped me?” I asked.

“I told you once that this wasn’t over,” he said. “It was I that took you after you left the blood bank. At first I was just going to scare you, by letting you wake up in that motel room covered in blood.

“But that stupid
kid Byron ran into me that night I stole the blood. I didn’t mean to kill him. It just happened. Afterward, I realized it would work out to my advantage. So I drained his blood and dumped his body in the river.

“I never meant for him to be found.
Stupid fishermen.”

“You’re insane,” I said.

“You could have gone out with me,” said Jeremy ignoring my outburst. “All I wanted was one date.”

“Are you listening to yourself?”
I still couldn’t believe it. This man was certifiably nuts. It was as though a monster lay beneath his calm facade.

“Shut up,” he spat slamming me against the tree.

The sirens grew louder. Please, I begged silently, get here in time.

“Why?” I asked in an effort to buy time.

“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he replied. “You should have seen yourself this past week. All your efforts to solve your own mystery. It was hilarious.”

Now the sirens seemed to be almost on top of us.
But they were still a mile away and all Jeremy had to do was stab me with that knife of his.

“Jeremy, please,” I said.

“No! You’re mine!”

He had a demented look on his face.
It twisted and contorted in such a way that I immediately thought of a horror movie. Unfortunately, this was no movie and his insanity was quite real.

“And no one is going to save you.”

Jeremy brought the knife up.
He paused. The engine to his car revved itself. We both turned and looked at it. The vehicle backed up and turned until it faced us. The lights flicked on. Again the engine revved itself. I had one thought: Rachel.

The tires squeal
ed as the car charged toward us.  It crashed through the bushes. In his moment of distraction, I tore away from Jeremy and dodged out of the way. Jeremy took off. He ran through the overgrowth in a vain effort to escape the car that chased him of its own accord.

Eventually, Jeremy reached the dirt road j
ust as a caravan of cop cars pulled up. Jeremy’s car came to a halt and shut off. At the same time, the police cars circled him preventing his escape. He threw his hands up in surrender. His face had gone deathly pale.

I managed to get to my feet again and worked my way back to the road.
Rachel stepped out of Jeremy’s vehicle laughing hysterically to herself. “You should have seen your faces.” She cackled some more.

“You could have killed me,” I said.

“Oh nonsense,” replied Rachel. “I have pretty good aim.”

She helped me make my way to the police.
They had handcuffed Jeremy and stuck him in the back of a police cruiser. Detective Shorts saw me and headed my way. He pulled out his keys and undid my cuffs.

“Are you OK?” he asked me.

“I think so,” I said.

“I think, in light of new evidence, the charges will be dropped.
Come on. I’ll take you home.” Detective Shorts led me to his car.

Just then, Mr. Harrow stalked up to us.
“What is going on here?” he demanded.

“In an effort to discover the truth,” answered Detective Shorts, “I instigated a plan to catch the real killer.
And it worked.”

“You came up with the plan?” asked Mr. Harrow.

“Yes,” said Detective Shorts, “You can read my report in the morning. As for Miss Summers, her attorney has just cause to ask that all charges be dropped.”

“And how do you explain the man’s story about his car driving
itself?”

“What does he say happened?” asked Detective Shorts.

“A ghost did it,” replied Mr. Harrow. “There is no such thing as ghosts.”

“
Then he is probably crazy. Mr. Harrow,” said Detective Shorts, “I have work to do.” He took me to his car and let me in. I glanced out the window and watched the entire proceeding as the cops tied things up.

Mr. Harrow glared at me.

Rachel walked up to him with something in her hands.
I could tell by the way he looked at her that she had made herself visible. She handed the item to him. “Here’s your files,” she said and then dematerialized in front of him. Mr. Harrow’s jaw dropped.

A second later, Rachel appeared by his other shoulder.
“By the way,” she said, “There are such things as ghosts.” As she said the last bit she slowly vanished. Her little stunt sunk in as he stood there holding a manila envelope with a shocked expression on his face.

Detective Shorts drove me home. I walked through the door to my apartment to be greeted by everyone. Aunt Ethel, Jackie, Greg, and Tiny and his gang were there. They all took turns giving me a hug or a slap on the back.

I don’t know how long we were up, but it must have been for several hours.
I ended up telling and retelling my story of what happened over and over again.

“I am so sorry this all happened,” said Aunt Ethel.
“Rachel and I both thought that by using you as bait we’d solve the mystery.”

“And you did,” I told her.

“But you almost got killed!”

I hugged my aunt feeling a bit sorry for her.
Despite all her faults, she did help me solve my own mystery and cared for me in her own way.

Sometime
around late afternoon people filed out of the apartment and I went to bed.