Anywhere but Here Page 11

  When Sam stood up and caught him staring at her, he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He turned around quickly to pay the receptionist.

  Sam told the young woman, “There’s no charge for today, Debbie. It was just a checkup.”

  Debbie nodded and went back to her computer.

  “It’s good to see you,” he said.

  She smiled. “Good to see you, too, Dan.”

  The silence between them was too long. Finally, she said, “I have to get back to work. You take care… and take care of that beautiful mutt. I always knew you were a dog kind of guy.”

  He watched her walk through the door, and he walked out.

  When he pulled up in front of the little cottage where Etta had lived for only a month, Salty became excited. He hadn’t been back since the night he was poisoned. He started barking frantically.

  “It’s okay, Salt. Calm down. You can go in, too.”

  He got out of the cruiser and went around to open the door. When he did, Salty bounded out and ran up the steps to the front door barking. Crime scene tape was still across the door. Dan took a key from his shirt pocket. They’d had the lock changed to give them access for the investigation. He took down the tape and unlocked the door. Salty pushed it open and immediately ran to the kitchen.

  Dan followed the dog and heard him growling. He unsnapped his holster and put his hand on the grip, cautiously moving forward and looking around. He unholstered his gun and stood to the side of the entrance to the kitchen, looking in. He didn’t see anyone, but the kitchen door was standing open and Salty had gone.

  “Salty!” Dan called. “Get back here.”

  When he got to the door, he saw Salty sniffing the steps. There was no one in sight. He knew the back door had been closed and locked, and the crime scene tape had been secured. One side of the tape was now hanging down.

  “Salty, did you see anyone, boy? Come back in here.”

  The dog obeyed. Someone who was involved had been in the house. Salty was sniffing the floor and lingered where the poison meat had been dropped. Dan closed and locked the door again and looked in every room. Etta’s handbag had already been taken in as evidence and the contents gone over. There wasn’t much in the bedroom besides a few clothes.

  “Nothing, Salty. No clue.”

  The only thing he could think to do was to dust for fingerprints again on the back doorknob. They had come up with nothing before, but perhaps whoever had been there this time, had been careless.

  Dan and Salty walked out through the front door and went down the steps. He looked around. No cars, no one on the street except Loretta Murphy from two houses down. She was sitting in a lawn chair in her yard holding one of her cats. Ida Mae was on her own side of the privet hedge arguing with Loretta.

  She had her garden basket setting on the ground next to her. Her little hands disappeared into huge green garden gloves and she was waving around a pair of garden shears.

  As Dan walked up, he heard her say to Loretta, “I got me some traps. If you don’t keep those filthy cats out of my yard, I’ll catch ‘em and take ‘em to the pound. They poop in my foxglove and gladiolas one more time, and you’re gonna have you some dead cats.”

  Loretta didn’t even acknowledge that Ida Mae had spoken to her. She had an earbud in her ear that was hooked to an iPad.

  “Good afternoon, Ladies,” Dan said as he stood on the sidewalk between the two women.

  Ida Mae raised her suspicious eyebrow at him. Loretta looked up and saw him, took the earbud from her ear and said, “Well, hi there, Sheriff. Did you say something? I was listening to Mike Rowe. Isn’t he just something?”

  “Yes, Loretta, he’s something,” Dan smiled.

  “Hmph. You’re the one whose something, Loretta Murphy. You didn’t hear a word I said,” Ida Mae complained.

  Loretta laughed. “If you said anything worth anything, maybe I’d listen. What can we do for you, Sheriff? You want to see Frances? I’m afraid she’s still at the bakery.”

  “No, Mrs. Murphy. I’m not here to see Frannie. Did either of you see anything this morning? Anyone coming from that house?” He pointed to Etta’s house.

  “No, why?” Loretta asked.

  “No reason. I’d appreciate it if you do see anything that you call me. Alright?” he asked.

  He left the two women arguing.

  When he got to The Sugar Stop, Frannie was getting ready to close. She was sweeping the floor and had already emptied her display cases. She looked up and saw him walk through the door. She continued to sweep.

  “Frannie, can I talk to you a minute?”

  She sighed and leaned the broom against the counter and stared at him with her arms crossed in front of her.

  “First of all, Frannie, I want to apologize,” he said.

  “For what, Dan? You never did anything,” she said.

  “I guess I got your hopes up that maybe…”

  “You think I’m so desperate, don’t you, Dan Baker? You think no one would ever pay attention to me. Well, you’re wrong,” she said, thinking about Brian. She had hoped he’d be back in before now.

  “Frannie, I don’t think that at all. Listen, I said I’m sorry if I led you on. I didn’t mean to do that, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “That man, the big man who smoked cigars and came in every day for a few days, has he been back?” Dan asked.

  “No, I told you I’d call you if he came in again. Do you think he’s still around?” Her defiant expression changed to one of concern.

  “No, probably not. What did you say he always wanted?”

  “Apple fritters, but that’s no big deal. Everyone likes my apple fritters. I sell out every day. Doc Sam gets four or six of them every week for her staff. So does Joanne from Styles, Ida Mae, John Deegan, Jack, lots of people. Even strangers. What’s the big deal?”

  “Nothing, Frannie. No big deal. Thanks.”

  He turned and walked out thinking that he’d probably dodged a bullet by not getting more involved with her. Her moods were unpredictable.

  Back at the station, Chloe handed him a stack of photos she’d printed off from Ethan Levi. He handed a plastic bag with a fingerprint card in it to her and ask that she have it processed. He hadn’t found much on the doorknob, but there was a partial print on the strike. He went back to his office and sat down to look at the photos.

  Each photo showed the woman chained or tied to a pier or inside a cave. Other photos had been taken by police of the inside and outside of the caves and the surrounding scenes where the piers were located. He picked up his phone and made a call. One photo in particular interested him.

  “Deegan, this is Dan Baker. Can you come over to the station for a minute? I want to show you something.”

  Chapter 24

  John Deegan looked at the photos of the places the other women were found. He pulled three of them out.

  “These three are all in this area. That one’s north of here. One is one of the ones we were able to look inside. That other one is one of the network of caves I told you about. It’s probably twelve, maybe thirteen miles south of here,” Deegan said.

  “Are you sure?” Dan asked.

  “Positive. It’s called Dog Cave. Look at that opening. It looks like the profile of a dog’s head. And see that big rock in the middle of the opening? I’d bet anything that’s the same one, but we can’t get in most of the caves right now, Dan. High tide’s still receding. It’s going to be dark by low tide. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow afternoon,” Deegan said.

  Dan said he’d try to get in touch with Rich Bauman to see if he could take them in his boat. “If not, I’ll get in touch with the Coast Guard.”

  “Don’t need a boat, Dan.”

  “I thought you said those caves further down were inaccessible by land.”

  Deegan winked, “What I said was that it was a dirt road. That cruiser you got have four-wheel drive?”

  Da
n said it did. Then Deegan told Dan to just bring a pair of waders.

  “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink at the pub, Deeg. I’ve had enough of this place tonight.”

  They walked out past Chloe who was reading a Cosmo, popping her gum and swinging her crossed leg.

  “Mark this day on the calendar, Chief. You’re leaving before supper.”

  The men laughed as they left the station.

  When they started to get into the cruiser, Dan asked, “Why does she call you Chief?”

  “I have no idea, Deeg, but she’s good at what she does. Keeps this place running. She can call me mother if she wants.”

  ****

  Etta watched Brian as he repaired a broken table leg while she washed the dinner dishes. She was beginning to feel anxious now that she’d gotten her strength back and was feeling better. She wanted to call her sister but there was no phone.

  When he was finished with the repair she asked, “Would you like some coffee?”

  “No, I think I’d like a glass of wine. How about you?” he asked. “I think I have a bottle somewhere around here.”

  “Alright.”

  He opened several cabinets and finally brought out a dusty bottle of chianti. It had been in there so long that the straw basket around it was mildewed.

  “Hmm. Maybe not. It probably tastes like vinegar. Do you like whiskey?” he asked.

  “Sure. That’s fine.”

  He told her to go into the living room and he’d bring in the drinks. He’d already lit the fire in the fireplace, and there was a nice glow in the room. Toby was asleep in his usual place on the braided rug close to the warmth. She sat on the sofa and in just a moment, Brian came in with two coffee mugs.

  “One ice cube alright?” he asked.

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  He sat down and lit a pipe. She hadn’t seen him smoke before. He asked if she minded and she told him no. She sipped on her whiskey, feeling a little uncomfortable with the silence between them.

  After a couple of minutes, she asked, “Why do you live out here?”

  He seemed surprised by her question. He shrugged. “Because no one bothers me.”

  “Were you from around here?”

  “I was born in Fort Landers, but I was sent away to military school when I was really young,” the memory seemed to bother him.

  “Do you still have family there?”

  He didn’t answer this question right away. She told him she was sorry and that she shouldn’t pry. He said it was alright.

  “My mother still lives in the area. I see her about once a month when I go in for supplies.”

  He thought about his mother. He couldn’t even remember her from when he was small. He and his sister had lived in the cabin with their dad for a few years, but his mother wasn’t there. He was a grown man by the time she got in touch with him again.

  “Do you have friends there?”

  “What? No,” he said bluntly. “No one knows me there anymore, and I don’t care to know any of them. I just go in when I have to.”

  Etta nodded. After she finished her whiskey, she stood up and told him she was tired and was going to bed.

  He grabbed her hand. “No.”

  She pulled her hand away.

  He immediately apologized. “I just… I’d like you to stay up with me for a little while.”

  She hesitated and finally sat down again, leaning as far into the corner of the sofa as possible. He never said another word to her. He simply stared into the fire and drank his whiskey.

  Chapter 25

  When Etta awoke, she was lying in her bed. She didn’t even remember going to bed. Her last memory was when he’d told her to stay with him, and she’d been sitting on the sofa. Her head was pounding. She hadn’t drunk more than an ounce or so of whiskey, but she felt hungover. The clock on the wall indicated it was ten-fifty. She’d slept for more than twelve hours. She was naked again.

  “What’s going on?” she wondered.

  She stood up and saw the clothes she’d been wearing were folded neatly on the chair. The bathrobe was draped over the footboard of the bed. She grabbed it and put it on. She didn’t remember anything.

  When she went into the kitchen, she saw the two mugs were on the counter, washed and dried. She took a drink of water and then looked out the window. She didn’t see Brian, but his truck wasn’t parked alongside the cabin as it usually was. She didn’t see Toby anywhere either.

  Who was this man living out here all alone with little to no connection with the rest of the world? He’d been nice to her and hadn’t pushed her for information. She had begun to trust him. She’d told him everything, and he hadn’t asked her any further questions. He had accepted her account of her experience with compassion. However, when he grabbed her hand the night before, there was something strange in his eyes, and it scared her. And then she woke up without any clothes on.

  She couldn’t call anyone; there was no phone. She couldn’t just leave; she had no clue where she was.

  She walked through the house, looking in each room. It was a small cabin, only five rooms. She stood in the doorway of his room. Everything was like the rest of the small cabin, very neat and clean. A watch was on his nightstand. She picked it up and saw that it was a Chopard, very expensive.

  “Where does he get that kind of money?”

  In fact, she wondered where he got any money. Had she been so confused and distracted that she wasn’t thinking clearly? Who was this man? It was beginning to scare her.

  As she walked past the mirror over his dresser, she saw herself, and it startled her. It wasn’t her reflection. It was the photograph stuck in the corner of the mirror. It appeared to be one that was taken of her at Tully’s Pub. Another one on the other corner of the mirror was one of her getting out of her car in front of the cottage.

  “What the hell?”

  She took the photo down. It was on copy paper, like it had been printed from a computer. She began looking through his drawers. She didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, clothes neatly folded… almost too neat.

  She opened his closet. On one side of his closet were work clothes, jeans and shirts. On the other were suits, very expensive suits. As she started to close the door, she saw something on the back wall of the closet. Another door? When she reached to open it, she heard him come into the house.

  ****

  The dirt road was rutted and muddy. Unless one had been there before, no one would have been able to find the turnoff. Traveling less than five miles an hour, the vehicle bounced and jogged its way east between stands of moss-covered cypress trees.

  “It wouldn’t be hard to find yourself in the middle of a swamp bog here. How did you ever find this place, Deeg?” Dan asked the man in the passenger seat who was holding onto the dash.

  “Me and some friends had camped out in Dog Cave one March it was about this time of year. We were on spring break. We’d heard of the king tides, but hell we were young… stupid… didn’t think anything about it. I woke up in the middle of the night and heard water rushing toward us. I turned on my headlamp and saw the tide was about a foot away from where I was tucked into my sleeping bag. I woke up my buddies and we looked out and saw the water had filled the front of the cave.

  “We didn’t have a boat and we couldn’t’ swim out. Just beyond the entrance there’s riptides that’ll take you under in seconds. We knew we were in trouble. So, we grabbed as much of our gear as we could and started heading for the caverns further back. We had scouted around back there some before, but we’d never been too far. The tide kept coming at us and we kept going. We finally found a tunnel. It climbed up through some pretty narrow spaces, but we finally found our way out.

  “There, park under that live oak over there. We have to walk the rest of the way in. It’s about another mile.”

  They put their equipment in a backpack and got out of the cruiser and began walking. They could hear the surf in the distance.

  “How far is it to
the ocean?”

  “Two miles maybe,” Deegan said.

  “Sounds closer.”

  “Yeah, sound travels out here. Not much to stop it.”

  As Dan looked around, but he didn’t see anything except a wisp of smoke coming up over some trees. He was curious about it, but Deegan interrupted his thought when he said, “There it is. Next to that tall hoodoo.”

  Deegan pointed to an oddly shaped rock formation that was about six feet tall and looked out of place in the middle of a mound of andesite rocks and sea oats. The cadence of their boots on scree echoed as they climbed up toward the hoodoo.

  “There, see that?” Deegan pointed to a space between the hoodoo and a large boulder.

  A dark cavernous opening looked like it could lead to the gates of hell, and as they got closer, Dan could see footprints in the muddy sand.

  “Someone’s been here,” he said, squatting down to look closer.

  “Could be kids.”

  “Maybe. How do we get down there?”

  “Follow me,” Deegan said. Just watch your footing.

  There didn’t appear to be enough room, but once down through the opening, it was like a rabbit hole, opening wider and wider. They wore headlamps, and Dan put the backpack over his shoulders to free their hands.

  As they passed through the first cavern and were heading through a narrow passageway to the next, Dan said, “Look at that.”

  He pointed to a handprint on the granite wall.

  “Dried mud?”

  Dan shook his head. “Blood.”

  He went through the passageway and looked around the dark cavern, his headlamp making a circular glow. Behind an outcropping of rock beside another opening, he saw a dark form lying halfway out of a pool of stagnant water. When he got close, he saw the open eyes of a dead man staring up at him. There was a bullet hole in his forehead. His arms were out to his sides, one of them grasping a dirty brown fedora. In the palm of his other hand was an empty hypodermic needle.