Part 32 (1/2)
”Ben McKenzie. The lady is Autumn Sommers.”
The sheriff tossed her only the merest glance, one that gave her the impression he didn't think all that much of women. ”So what information do you have?”
Ben unrolled the sketch. ”This man has been identified as being at the scene of two child abduction cases-one six years ago, one just two months back. There's a chance he may live in the area.”
The sheriff looked down at the sketch. ”What makes you think he's connected to the Vreeland murder?”
”Nothing conclusive, just a couple of leads we've been following that led us up here.”
The sheriff eyed him with suspicion. ”What's any of this got to do with you?”
”My daughter was one of the kidnap victims.”
”That so..?” Sheriff Crawford studied the sketch, read the description on the bottom, then rolled it up and handed it back to Ben. ”You think this fella might be involved in a murder but you don't have any proof, just these so-called leads you've been following.”
”That's right. We were hoping you might help us find out who he is.”
The sheriff shrugged his beefy shoulders. ”Could be anyone. Lots of fair-skinned folks in these parts. Norwegians settled here way back, came here for the logging.”
Ben tapped the rolled-up sketch. ”So he doesn't look familiar?”
”Not particularly. What's a kidnapping got to do with murder?”
It was Autumn who answered. ”We don't know, Sheriff. We just thought the incidents might be connected.”
”Hmm, I don't know anything about any child abductions and so far the murder is still under investigation. So if that's it, I guess your business here is finished.”
”I guess it is,” Ben said, his jaw a little tight. ”At least for the moment.”
The sheriff's mouth thinned. ”If I were you, I'd think about heading back to where I came from. Folks in these parts value their privacy. They don't cotton to people sniffing around, poking into their personal business, asking questions.”
”Is that some kind of warning?” Ben asked.
”Matter of fact, it is. I'm warning you to stay out of a Warren County murder investigation. You don't, you're asking for trouble.”
Ben said no more, just settled a hand at Autumn's waist and urged her toward the door. As they climbed back into the pickup and snapped their seat belts in place, Autumn suppressed a s.h.i.+ver.
”Nice guy,” she said.
”I can see why he's the sheriff. He fits in perfectly with the rest of the know-nothings up here.”
She almost smiled. ”Are we going back home?”
”Not until I talk to Deputy Cobb. Since he doesn't appear to be here in Beecherville, he's either in Warren or still in Ash Grove. Odds are, they'll be wanting to keep an eye on the crime scene. We'll go over there again tomorrow morning.”
”You think you might be able to get him talking? So far we haven't had much luck in that regard.”
”It's worth a try. I got the feeling he knows something we don't and he seemed a little more inclined to talk than most of the people we've spoken to.” Ben fired up the engine. ”Let's get something to eat and then head back to the motel.”
Twenty-Six.
With the road so narrow and curvy, it was a fairly slow drive back to Ash Grove and dark had set in by the time they arrived at the aging, fifties-era, flat-roofed motel. Autumn was tired and frustrated and she knew Ben felt even worse. They didn't talk much, just undressed and got into bed. When Ben kissed her goodnight, things started to heat up.
A round of sweaty s.e.x left them drained and sated and able to fall asleep. Autumn tried not to think how much she enjoyed their lovemaking, enjoyed being with him. It was frightening, her growing attachment to him.
I'll deal with it when this is over, she told herself, burying the thought beneath the more urgent problem of finding Molly.
Autumn wasn't sure what time it was when a rustling sound in the room broke through her sleep. Her eyes flew open at the feel of a man's hand clamping around her throat, turning her scream into a m.u.f.fled croak.
Next to her, Ben shot up in bed, his hand reaching for the drawer next to the bed where he had put his automatic pistol.
”I wouldn't do that if I were you.” A man dressed completely in black stood over him, pointing a gun at his head.
There were two other men in the room, the one pinning her to the mattress with a chokehold on her throat, the other at the foot of the bed, aiming a gun at her heart. Instead of ski masks as the men had worn during the murder, they were wearing handkerchiefs tied over their noses and mouths like a trio of Wild West bandits. The subtle difference gave her hope they weren't Priscilla Vreeland's killers, but it didn't keep her heart from slamming into her ribs.
”Don't make any sudden moves,” the guy next to Ben warned. ”You do and one of these guns might go off.” Autumn could barely see the man in the darkened room, but she could tell he was taller than the others and very thin. ”You wouldn't want anything to happen to your lady friend.” He glanced over to his cohort at the foot of the bed. He's young, she thought, but wasn't quite sure why. To make the point, the younger man s.h.i.+fted his aim to Autumn's head and Ben's whole body went tense.
”How did you get in here?” he asked, his back against the headboard, the covers bunched around his waist. ”What do you want?”
”We're just here to deliver a warning,” the tall man said. Apparently he was the leader.
”That's right,” agreed the man with the chokehold on her throat. ”We don't need outsiders up here sniffing around, prying into Brethren business. The woman down the street...she found out what happens to people who meddle in other people's affairs.”
”You killed her?”
”Not us,” said the younger man. ”But we aren't surprised it happened.”
”You don't want something like that to happen to you or your lady,” warned the leader. ”Take my advice-leave Warren County and don't come back.”
Autumn managed to swallow, then sucked in a breath as the man holding her reached down and jerked back the covers. She was naked and trembling and a scream lodged in her throat. Ben came up off the bed like a tiger, the muscles in his arms and shoulders bulging, his chest heaving as went into battle mode. The c.o.c.king of the pistol pointing at Autumn froze him there on the bed.
”Easy...” the leader warned.
”Nice...very nice,” said the man beside her, leering at her over the top of his mask.
”Women up here know their place,” said the leader. ”We got no patience for those that don't.”
The blunt hand moved away from her throat, releasing her, but the gun at the foot of the bed didn't waiver. Autumn reached down and yanked the sheet back up to cover herself.
”This time no one gets hurt,” said the tall man. ”Next time you won't be so lucky.”
They were gone as silently as they had entered the room, closing the door quietly behind them.
Ben pulled open the drawer and drew out his pistol, then leaned over and pulled Autumn into his arms. ”Christ, are you all right?” The tension in his muscles remained. Autumn couldn't seem to stop trembling. She nodded and blinked against the burn of tears.
”Take it easy. It's over now.”