Payne & Misery Page 27

  “Well, now you have. The other boxes must be full of gold too. You’ve got a lot of money here. Things are going to be great now.”

  In an instant, she exploded with rage. “No!” Her shriek echoed in the small space.

  I froze.

  As abruptly as Helen raised her voice, she lowered the volume but not the intensity. “You have spoiled everything. You meddling busybody. You will talk, won’t you?” She picked up the black pistol and aimed it at my head. Evil flashed in her eyes as she hissed. “I can’t let you do that.”

  The gun barrel kissed my temple.

  My heart thundered in my ears, but I kept my voice calm and lied. “You don’t need to be afraid of me, Helen. Why would I tell anyone? I understand what you’ve been through. Will’s your brother. Lila was crazy. You did what you had to.”

  My searching feet found the highest ladder rung. I stood in the hole, hoping the height gave me a look of authority. “Put the gun away.” I struggled to control the quiver of fear creeping into my voice. “I’ll help you carry your gold down.”

  “I don’t think so.” Although her voice sounded even, unveiled rage pulsed the air.

  She cocked the gun. The click echoed in the quiet attic.

  Reflex took over. I slapped the gun out of her hand and knocked over the lantern. The gun clattered between the rafters. Tubes of gold bounced off Helen’s lap and tinkled as they scattered when she grabbed the lantern and lunged for her pistol. I dove out of sight down the ladder before she regained control. By the time she made the opening, I’d nearly reached the floor.

  She stuck her head through and aimed the gun.

  Gripping one side of the ladder, I jumped, pulling sideways. I crashed to the floor. Pain exploded in my feet and ankles. I bolted from the bedroom like a crippled racehorse. Helen screamed curses. The doorjamb splintered as a bullet zinged into the wood beside my head.

  She actually meant to kill me.

  I hobbled down the hall.

  How would I make it up that hill? Dear God, give me strength.

  But when I threw open the front door, I collided with Ed and Silverthorne, pistols drawn.

  41

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The late afternoon sun diffused through sapphire, gold, and emerald stained-glass panes in the hospital chapel and sparkled on the opposite wall. Kneeling in front of the carpeted altar, I watched the dancing light through tears. For most of the last half hour, I’d pleaded with God to bring Lila’s murderer swiftly to justice and heal William Payne. While I cried and prayed, stress loosed its steely grip on my soul, and in its place rested a firm certainty that God could still be trusted. Whether he healed William Payne so we could hear the complete story or not, God’s ultimate goodness would not fail. Prayer might not change God’s plan, but it changed me. The closer I got to having a real relationship with God, the more my thinking aligned with his.

  I sensed someone in the small room and turned to see Jesse sitting quietly in the front row, head bowed. I hadn’t seen him since he came home from his weekend that afternoon. I grabbed my Kleenex box and joined him, still sniffing.

  He patted my thigh when I settled beside him. “How’s the ankle?”

  Sniffing again, I shrugged. The ankle I landed on when I jumped from the ladder had sustained nothing worse than a bad sprain. “It’ll give me a good excuse for getting out of work for a week or so.”

  “I’m really sorry, Chris.” He stared at the light shimmering through the window. His chin quivered. “I shouldn’t have gone. I knew I should stick around.”

  I bit my lip and shook my head, laying a finger softly across his mouth. “It’s okay. All of it.”

  “But she had a gun. She could have—” His voice broke. He reached for me, pulling me so close I thought my ribs might break. Jesse did care.

  I let the sweet feeling wash over me a moment, holding my breath. Then I attempted a protest, but my head pressed to his shoulder muffled my voice.

  He loosened his grip. “What?”

  I gulped air. “Nothing really awful happened. God protected me. But what I discovered is that even if he hadn’t, he knows what’s right and he always does it.”

  His eyes bored into mine as if trying to see inside my soul. For once, I had his full attention. “Do you truly believe that?”

  I nodded. “God’s plan is good. I may not always like it, but I believe it will always turn out for the best.”

  After another pause to stare into my eyes, Jesse turned away to reach for the plastic bag he’d stuffed on his other side. “Here. I brought you a souvenir.”

  Jesse got me a gift? My heart overflowed. Jesse could barely remember to buy a birthday card. Oops! I almost lapsed into that old complaining spirit again. Lord, help me. “Jesse, how thoughtful.” The shopping bag rustled in my fingers.

  He nodded, looking almost shy. “I had them wrap it in your favorite paper too. Go ahead. Open it.”

  I tugged the bag open and pulled out something wrapped in pink tissue. Tearing through that, I reflected on this sweet gesture. Whatever got into him?

  I unfolded the contents and shook out a robins egg blue T-shirt. On the front, an old lady bounced with glee on a pogo stick, wisps of gray hair flying loose from her lop-sided bun and a smile as wide as if she’d won the lottery.

  Jesse assumed a Cheshire cat grin. “Turn it over.”

  On the back, in white block letters, the caption read:

  STAY OUT OF MY WAY!

  I JUMP TO CONCLUSIONS

  When we finished laughing, Jesse sandwiched my small hand between his strong ones. “So did you ever figure out who killed Lila?”

  “Can’t prove she did, but I’m sure it was Helen. Alan must have come to California to search for Will’s ‘treasure’ after Lila told him about it. Somehow, he connected with Helen and they decided to collaborate. I don’t know if Alan was in on killing Lila or not. Don’t know how to find that out.” I shook my head. “But I still don’t get how Alan could have been in Iowa and out here at the same time.”

  “Oh, that,” Jesse smiled. “I think I know.”

  “How?”

  “At the shoot, my friend Express Man called me. You met him, remember?”

  “Pony Express rider. Sure.”

  “Well, he called from Colorado. But when I looked at my cell phone, it showed his Nevada County number.”

  I frowned. “How?”

  Jesse’s grin widened. “I said, ‘Thought you went to Colorado.’ He said, ‘Yeah.’ I said, ‘How come your phone number shows up with the California area code?’ Express Man says, ‘I’m calling on my cell phone, dummy. It’s the same number wherever I go.’ See?”

  It took me a moment. “We thought we called Alan’s home phone in Iowa, but it was his cell phone.”

  Jesse nodded. “Right. Alan and his cell phone were in California. If we weren’t such technology chuckleheads, we’d have thought of that sooner.”

  I never would have thought of it, but I didn’t say so. At least I finally understood how Alan could have been in two places at once. He wasn’t.

  Molly darted eagerly in front of me as I re-latched the gate beside the front driveway. Gray clouds threatened rain in the chilly afternoon, but my ankle had nearly healed—although it was still wrapped for added strength—and Molly needed a walk. I carried the crutches just in case I couldn’t hobble home. The fall colors were beautiful, although many leaves had already fallen to crunch beneath our feet. Jesse’s leaf blower had been busy for most of the week, creating oak-leaf mountains in the pasture.

  Molly and I moseyed down Paso Fino Place, admiring God’s handiwork. We strolled down the hill past our barn and up again, turning left at Percheron Drive just as we did on our first visit to Will’s house when I’d vacillated about going all the way to the front door. Thank you, God, for keeping me going.

  God answered prayers for improvement of my marriage too, and supplied the picture of the hit-and-run. How amazing to retrace God’s hand a
nd see the way he’d been working all along. He did hear when I prayed after all. I’d just never stopped to think about the answers after they arrived or given him credit.

  At Mustang Hill Road, Molly automatically veered left, leading the way. We passed the mailboxes where I’d put up the fliers. I thanked God for bringing her home. Then we came to Will’s driveway and hesitated. Molly sat and I stood still at the top of the gravel roadway, saluting the property. This time, she didn’t whine to urge me onward. She sat panting quietly and staring down at the house.

  The gray house had truly been abandoned. A large For Sale sign stood at the entrance to the gravel driveway, dug in among the decaying iris stalks. Potential buyers weren’t stopping in droves to view the house. Zora Jane said the Realtor priced it at a bargain and she supposed it hadn’t been marketed properly.

  A navy blue two-door Toyota hatchback rolled to a stop at the mailboxes and a young woman stepped out. The breeze tugged blond tendrils out of the ponytail at the top of her head and whipped them around her face. Her long legs and coltish movements reminded me of a fawn taking its first tentative steps.

  She noticed Molly at the same time she reached the mailboxes. Stopping in mid-motion, one hand on the mailbox door, the girl smiled in our direction. Tail wagging, Molly raced toward her.

  I called, “Molly.” But she didn’t stop.

  Molly got to the girl before I did. She knelt to embrace Molly’s soft black-and-white body. Would Lila look like this if she had lived a normal life?

  As I neared, the girl lifted brown doe eyes to meet me. “Is this your dog?”

  “Yes.” I frowned, wondering how she became acquainted with my dog.

  She flashed a beautiful smile. “Um. I’m the one who found your dog last month.”

  “Oh, my goodness! Hello.” I extended my hand. “I can’t thank you enough for picking her up. We’re most grateful.” I pumped her hand with vigor. “My name’s Christine Sterling.”

  “I’m Amber. Um, Amber Cervine. Nice to meet you.”

  “Sorry I didn’t get your name when you called that day. I got so excited about finding Molly, I didn’t remember to thank you properly. Please forgive me.”

  “Oh, um, no problem. I’m just glad you got your dog back.”

  Her gaze settled on our clasped hands. Embarrassed that I still held onto her, I dropped her hand at once.

  She reflected my feelings with a delicate blush.

  “Could I get your name and address, Amber? I want to thank you for taking time to look after our dog. She means a great deal to us. She’s been part of our family for a long time.”

  “That’s so not necessary.”

  I laid a hand on her arm. “Please.”

  “Okay, um, sure. Here, let me write it down for you.” She ducked into the car. When she popped out, she held a sheet of notebook paper on which she’d written her name and address in round juvenile writing.

  “Your friend was with you, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Please write his name too.”

  She added the words “Tom Dale” underneath her address and handed the paper to me. Then she stared toward Will’s house. Wind- whipped wisps of hair danced around her face. “It’s awful what happened in that house, isn’t it? That poor woman!” Details of the investigation still dominated local headlines and news stations.

  “Dreadful. A horrible thing!”

  She sighed wistfully. “I guess it happened the same night we found your dog.”

  Startled, I fixed my eyes hard on her. “What time did you find Molly?” My heart raced.

  “What time? I’m not sure.”

  “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  Perhaps the urgency in my voice frightened her. Or my intensity made her nervous. She stepped backward as if re-establishing her personal space. With one hand, she flipped a clump of stray hair off her shoulder to her back. “That was weeks ago.”

  “Please, Amber. It might be important.”

  She fidgeted. “Well, um, Tommy picked me up at my dad’s after he got off work. We were going to visit friends. In Modesto. The sun set just before we left the house, but it was still light out. You know, twilight. We stopped to see if I got any mail ’cause I expected something from college. This dog came running from that direction.”

  Amber pointed to her right. “We didn’t see where she came from, but her ears were pinned down and she ran real hard like she was scared. She wouldn’t come to us at first, but Tommy caught hold of her. That’s when we saw she didn’t have any dog tags.” She looked down. “We were kind of in a hurry. Tommy said we should take her with us since we had no idea where she came from. I don’t know if we did the right thing or not.” She peeked at me through thick lashes.

  “You took good care of her. Thank you.”

  A slight flush spread over her face when she smiled.

  “Did you see anyone? Then or just afterward? On the street or in the Paynes’ driveway? Anyone at all?”

  She cocked her head. “No. Otherwise, we would’ve asked them about the dog.”

  “Did you notice anything unusual while you stood there that night? Did you hear anything? Think hard now.”

  “We did hear something. I don’t know what, though. Just before we, um, got the dog into the car. Three pops—two close together and one later. Kind of faint and far away. Pop, then a couple seconds pop again. Tommy said, ‘That sounded like a gun.’ Then we heard one more pop. I don’t know because I never heard a gun before, except on TV, of course.”

  “Amber, think about what you saw. Was there a vehicle at the Payne’s that night?”

  “You mean a car?”

  I nodded.

  She dropped her lids shut again. Seconds passed while she searched her memory. Her eyelids fluttered open. “Um. Actually, there were two. A white truck and a big brown car.”

  42

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  According to the article that appeared in the local newspaper, Amber Cervine and Thomas Dale individually and voluntarily gave statements at the sheriff’s office the next day. Two crucial puzzle pieces dropped into place, gift-wrapped from above. Lila did not shoot herself. Three shots made a high probability that someone else shot her. More importantly, along with Helen’s previous confession that she drove the Buick to Sierra Meadows, Amber’s testimony about seeing two cars at roughly the same time she heard the gunshots provided sufficient proof that Helen and Will were both present when Lila died.

  Newspapers continued to report on the daily minutia of the case. Jesse and I read the reports and discussed them each morning. Silverthorne stayed busy wrapping up loose ends with Deputy Dunn, and we didn’t see him for a week.

  At first, Helen blamed Lila’s murder on Alan and vice versa. But no one ever came forward with a single shred of evidence to place Alan at the scene. Then Helen claimed that Will shot Lila. Changing her story so many times, Helen diminished her credibility significantly. Besides, there was the matter of the unregistered revolver Helen held on me in the attic—the same caliber as the gun that killed Lila. The likelihood that a jury of Helen’s peers would believe her latest version appeared doubtful. Her attorney advised her to admit her culpability. At the end of a week in jail, Helen conceded to the evidence stacked against her and confessed to Lila’s murder. After her sentencing, the newspaper ran excerpts from her taped confession, in which she acknowledged that she had made the plan, shot Lila, and convinced Will to burn the body. She steadfastly refused to accept blame for the hit-and-run of little Marcus Whitney, though. That, she maintained, didn’t count—being purely accidental.

  We visited Will Payne at the hospital nearly every day. Ed and Zora Jane came with us. Will’s progress was slow. Sometimes we assisted with his treatments, but mostly we stood helplessly by, watching him struggle. They kept him sedated as much as possible. The stroke had paralyzed his right side, so he couldn’t talk. After a week, they moved him out of ICU, but he slept through most of our visits.
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br />   During one of our walks in the hall to stretch our legs, Jesse and I happened on the lady we had observed in Rosita’s—the one with the huge red purse full of food. I tugged Jesse’s sleeve. “Don’t look. It’s her.”

  Jesse looked anyway and his eyes widened.

  My imagination revved into high gear. “She’s wearing a hospital gown, so she’s a patient here. She got caught stealing food from the cafeteria but had a heart attack when they tried to arrest her.”

  Jesse reprimanded me with a glare over his glasses. “You never quit, do you?”

  “Okay. How about this one? She’s freeloading off the hospital. Lives here and steals their food.”

  Jesse chuckled. “That one’s wild, even for you.”

  By that time, we’d ambled several yards past her. Without warning, Jesse spun on his heel and marched back to where she leaned against the wall. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Too mortified to follow, I shuffled from one foot to the other, waiting without openly peeking at them.

  While I stewed, they conducted a short conversation. The woman pointed. Jesse nodded and returned to where I paced. He took my arm and guided me down the hall.

  I couldn’t stand it another second. “Did you ask what she’s doing here?”

  He grinned.

  “I know you did. What did she say?”

  “She said,” he faced me, expression serious. “You must quit snooping into everyone’s affairs or she’s going to sue you for harassment.”

  I punched Jesse’s arm. “She did not! Come on.”

  Jesse rubbed his arm, a smile playing on his lips. “What she actually said was, ‘The cafeteria is just down the hall.’ Gotcha!”

  One afternoon, with all four of us gathered around Will’s bed, Jesse said, “It’s amazing how the story of Lila and Will turned out, isn t it?”

  The way the two disappearances intertwined amazed me. “If Molly hadn’t gone missing, I doubt we’d have stayed interested enough to hang in there until they found Lila.”