In the Paths of Righteousness (Psalm 23 Mysteries) Page 15
She glanced around at all the other angry, hostile faces and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach just got worse. Everyone there had lost a friend or a coworker and they wanted blood. On top of that, they were what felt like a million miles away from civilization. With everyone busy blaming Jeremiah, it would also give the real killer plenty of time to dispose of evidence or even fabricate some. By the time they made it to town Jeremiah would look plenty guilty to everyone.
If someone hasn’t killed him by then.
Jeremiah was sitting in the wagon, having been shoved into position by Hank before the big man left. Outside the others were no doubt beginning to mull his fate as well as their own. Mark was smarter and a lot more observant than Jeremiah had given him credit for. That had been a mistake, one that he wouldn’t be repeating any time soon. The detective had gotten a lot of things right, too close for comfort certainly.
Jeremiah inspected his bonds. The knots on the rope were solid, but he should be able to work himself free in a couple of minutes, even without the help of any of his tools. His Swiss Army knife was currently underneath his pillow. It was probably only a matter of time before they found that as well.
Outside he could hear voices raised in the distance. No doubt they were trying to decide how to proceed. At this point the only real choice they had was to press on. The question was, would they be abandoning the herd? The truth was, they would know they couldn’t trust him on horseback so they could only really travel as fast as the wagon could go. After what had happened to Tex they were unlikely to risk sending someone out alone again, even if they thought they had their killer locked up all safe and secure. That gave him more than enough time to escape.
He heard a light footstep outside and he tensed. The wagon moved ever so slightly and a moment later Cindy appeared, pushing through the canvas and letting it fall back in place behind her. Her face was pale, but her eyes were clear. No sign of tears.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
He took a deep breath. This was the moment of truth. “I’d be better if you said you brought something to cut me loose with,” he said tersely, watching her facial expressions closely.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything like that,” she said.
“Then I’m not doing too well.”
“Mark is wrong, I know you can’t possibly have done all this,” she said.
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but seriously, I’d appreciate more help getting out of this.”
“Wait! I just realized something,” she said, her voice strained.
“What?”
“This is the chuck wagon. There have to be knives in here somewhere. I just have to figure out where Brent is...was... storing them. Then I can cut you free.”
He blinked, nearly unable to contain his surprise. “You’d do that for me?” he asked.
She turned and looked at him. She was so close, a hair’s breadth away. “Of course I would. I believe in you,” she said. There was a light shining in her eyes and she had never looked more beautiful to him than in that moment.
“And what do you think is going to happen after you cut me loose?” he asked.
“I think you’re going to make a run for it. Get clear of here until I can figure out who the real killer is. It’s the safest thing given the circumstances.”
She was right about that. He was pretty sure there were at least a couple people outside who wanted him dead.
He took a deep breath. “And what if I am the real killer?” he asked.
She stared at him for a moment that seemed to last forever. Finally she knelt down in front of him so that they were face-to-face. She swallowed hard, but she met his eyes. “Then I’m sure you had your reasons,” she whispered at the last.
It was the last thing he had expected her to say and it changed everything. Suddenly the very air around them seemed charged. “Run away with me,” he whispered.
She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. It was trembling. “Why?”
“Because I can protect you from the evils of this world. Really protect you, not the shadow of effort I’ve put in so far.”
She sucked in her breath. “That’s not your job.”
He wanted to reach out, put his hands on her waist, but the way they were tied he couldn’t. Instead he leaned forward so they were closer together. The hand she had on his shoulder slipped around behind his head.
“But I want it to be,” he said.
She leaned forward, eyes wide, swaying slightly, and he realized she was going to kiss him. He knew he should stop her. There was so much that she didn’t know, but he wanted that kiss more than anything he’d ever wanted in his whole life.
Her lips were an inch from his, her eyes were closed, and he knew in another moment he’d be lost forever.
“Hey, what are you doing in there!” a harsh voice demanded.
Cindy sat back, startled, eyes wide. “Just talking,” she managed to say.
It was good that she could answer because he was speechless.
Curly poked his head inside the canvas. “You best get on out of there, Miss,” he said, his eyes hard and his face angry.
Cindy stood slowly, a look of dismay on her face.
Jeremiah took a ragged breath, trying to gather his wits about him. From the look on the cowboy’s face he could tell the man had some sort of old fashioned western justice on his mind. He might stop short of lynching Jeremiah for killing his friend, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try beating him within an inch of his life.
Cindy must have sensed the same thing because she looked at Curly and said, “Would you come with me to talk to Kyle about canceling the rest of this cattle drive?”
He looked like he was about to argue with her, but apparently thought better of it. “Yes, Miss, that seems like a good idea,” he said, casting one last threatening glance at Jeremiah before leaving with her.
Jeremiah listened to the sounds of their retreating footsteps and then leaned his head forward into his bound hands. They were shaking and he fought a silent battle with himself. His actions, his words had been purely selfish. He hadn’t had Cindy’s best interests at heart when she was kneeling there in front of him.
She had been so agitated that she hadn’t been thinking clearly. All the more reason why he should have been thinking for the both of them. The more he was with her, though, the less rational he seemed to become. His thoughts had started straying into forbidden territory until it had culminated a minute ago with her lips an inch from his and him trying to get her to run away with him.
Cindy deserved every happiness in the world. She was a kind, generous, warm, wonderful woman. She deserved a man who was all those things, too. Yet throughout history it seemed to be the same. Women were attracted to the wrong men, to men who weren’t good for them. To men who were not men at all, but monsters masquerading as men. He was one of those and even though Cindy didn’t know it, she must sense it somehow and she was becoming attracted to it.
He tried to tell himself that it was just the stress of the moment, the shock and the danger, but he suspected that it ran deeper than that. In case it did, he owed it to her to leave. If he cared for her that was what he would do, even if the thought nearly destroyed him. It was the right thing to do. It was what he had to do. Because he knew in his heart that if he stayed eventually being that close to her would wear down his resistance. One day he would kiss her. Then, heaven help them both, he would never stop.
He heard footsteps and for a moment thought Cindy might be returning. These steps were too heavy, though. He closed his eyes, steeling himself for whatever was coming next.
It had taken all of his willpower to let Hank tie his wrists instead of punching the man and making a run for it. That would have resulted in a lot more injury, and possibly death, though, and if he did that he’d never be able to prove his innocence to anyone, not even Cindy even though she seemed predisposed to believe in him.
He opened his ey
es and turned just as a figure stepped through the canvas into the wagon. It was Mark and the detective was staring at him with eyes that seemed to burn right through him.
“You’ve got the wrong man,” Jeremiah said.
“Don’t lie to me. After all this time, I finally know who you really are.”
15
Mark stared at Jeremiah. The rabbi met his eyes, coolly. “And who am I?” he asked.
“You’re a killer.”
“So, you told everyone out there.”
“So, I’m telling you. Look, what I said out there was true. I know that you killed that serial killer. I knew it then, I just couldn’t prove it. And, frankly, I didn’t want to press the issue too hard.”
“There were a lot of police around that day. And, if I’m not mistaken, he was shot by one of them.”
“No, he was shot by one of their guns. But I think you were the man holding it.”
“You have no proof of that.”
“No, and I never will at this point. All that was important back then was that the man was stopped. Besides, even if I could have proven my suspicions it would have been a clear case of either self defense or defense of others depending exactly on how it went down. Then there was that assassin at the kid’s camp.”
“Man was killed by a mountain lion,” Jeremiah said, face still completely passive, revealing nothing.
“And I’m betting the Honolulu police have found a few bodies, or at least filed a few missing persons reports from when Cindy was kidnapped and you were over there rescuing her.”
Mark pulled a pen and a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and scribbled something on it.
“You’re never going to pin these murders on me,” Jeremiah said.
Mark passed him the note.
I’m pretty sure there’s someone outside listening, Jeremiah read silently.
“Don’t be too sure of that,” Mark said.
Any idea who? Jeremiah barely managed to scribble with his hands tied the way they were.
“I’m too smart for you,” Jeremiah said, his voice suddenly sounding harsh, sneering.
Mark read the note and shook his head.
“We’ll see about that,” Mark said, exiting abruptly.
He shoved his way through the canvas and then jumped down from the wagon. Liz was standing there, arms crossed. She looked slightly startled at his sudden appearance, but no more than could be expected.
“No visitors for the prisoner,” Mark growled.
She lifted an eyebrow. “I just need my makeup kit. It’s in there. Kyle wants to do a close-up.”
Mark laughed. “And just how does he plan on doing that with all the cameras out of commission?”
“Norman and Hank both had personal handheld cameras in their bags. Clearly he didn’t know about them. Anyway, they’ve offered to take some footage to salvage what they can...or to at least have something to show on the news when word of all this gets out.”
Mark managed to contain his disappointment. “Okay, grab it, but be quick,” he said. “And don’t get too close to him, he’s dangerous,” he added. He shook his head in frustration. Kyle was unbelievable if he was still trying to salvage this trip.
She was quick, returning less than ten seconds later lugging the giant case.
“You need help getting it down?” he offered.
“No, I’ve got it,” she said, jumping down off the wagon and hauling the heavy case down afterward.
He waited until she was headed over to where the others were grouped, rolling the case behind her, before he took a quick look around the other side of the wagon. Satisfied that Jeremiah was isolated for the time being he went over to rejoin the group where he could keep an eye on everyone. There were eight suspects in total, counting the missing Roddy, and it would be a lot easier to keep an eye on all of them if he could enlist some help from Traci, Cindy, or even Cindy’s brother.
He and Jeremiah had agreed, though, that for their plan to make the killer let down his guard to work everyone had to be completely convincing in their reactions to him accusing Jeremiah. He felt bad about not telling Traci and Cindy the truth, but neither of them was actress enough to have faked the reactions they gave earlier. Since most of the suspects were television people, it would likely have been easy for the killer to spot a bad acting job.
As it was he had nearly lost himself in his own role, bringing up everything that had ever bothered him about Jeremiah or stood out as odd. By the time he’d finished he’d all but convinced himself that Jeremiah really was the killer. As it was, there was still a tiny doubt in the back of his mind. Masquerading as the killer to flush out the killer would be perfect cover if he actually was the killer. He shook his head and told himself he was being paranoid again. It was turning into a bad habit.
As he joined the group Traci glared at him, while Cindy just looked straight ahead. There was going to be hell to pay with both of them later, but if they caught a killer before anyone else died it would be worth it.
“We only have permission from the land owner to move the herd through this particular area, not leave it here for even a day or two no matter the circumstances. Our obligation to our employer and the legal contracts he’s signed require us to keep moving the herd as planned,” Zack was saying.
Curly was nodding, backing him up. Given that it was their comrade who was dead it gave more weight to their argument.
“Now, we’ve only got four days left before we reach Righteousness, the town where we drop you all off. We can’t trust our prisoner on a horse so we can only travel as fast as the chuck wagon anyway. It only makes sense to see this through.”
It was still a weird sounding name for a town to him. Then again he had once driven through Bacon, Texas and Traci had an uncle who lived in Toad Suck, Arkansas, so compared to those Righteousness didn’t seem so bad.
“We should send someone ahead, alert the local authorities. Maybe they can start trying to find the body,” Norman said.
“Oh no, I’m not splitting up the group again,” Kyle said. “Look what happened the last time we sent someone ahead for help.”
“But now that we’ve caught the killer-” Norman began.
“It won’t matter. Whoever killed Tex would have buried him. And if not, buzzards will get to him long before anyone could ever find a body out here,” Hank said.
“Okay, so, we’re going to stay together and finish this thing,” Kyle said, his face grim.
“It’s not going to hurt your ratings any,” someone in the crowd muttered.
“Who said that?” Kyle asked, face draining of color.
No one moved.
“This is a tragedy. What happens with the show is ultimately the network’s call. It’s our duty, though, to continue to roll footage just in case we don’t have the right killer or he has an accomplice. That way the police can go through it if need be.”
“Oh, we have the right killer,” Mark said with all the confidence he could muster.
Kyle looked at him. “I trust your judgment, but I still hope you’re wrong. The man did save my sister’s life.”
More times than you can even count, buddy, Mark thought to himself.
“So, we all have a job to do,” Kyle continued. “I suggest we do it to the best of our abilities.”
He turned and stalked off. The rest of them began to disperse and he noticed Liz standing there with her makeup case.
“Guess Kyle changed his mind about that close-up,” Mark said.
“Typical,” she said with a sigh. “He changes his mind every fifteen minutes on a good day.”
She walked away slowly, trailing the case behind.
Mark turned and found Traci in his face, her eyes blazing. He took an involuntary step backward.
“How could you?” she seethed.
“Shouldn’t you be asking him that?” Mark said with a straight face although he inwardly winced. Her current anger was nothing compared to what it was going to be later when sh
e learned how he had tricked her along with everyone else.
Cindy was quiet and he hated to think what had to be going through her mind. She was probably reliving every experience the two of them had shared, wondering what exactly he had done that she had never been aware of. He wouldn’t trade places with her for anything, but thanks to what had happened with Paul he more than understood.
At least she’d only have to wonder for a few hours, maybe a day or two. He was beginning to think he was going to be left wondering for the rest of his life.
“We need to get packed up so we can get out of here,” he said, more gruffly than he had intended.
Traci bent down and scooped the contents of Jeremiah’s backpack back into it, including carefully wrapping the knife back up and putting it in. When Mark raised an eyebrow she just looked at him.
“Where else am I going to put it right now?” she snapped.
She had a point. At the moment nowhere was safe for something like that, especially with a killer still on the loose.
When she was finished she and Cindy moved over and started rolling up their sleeping bags. After a moment Mark headed for his as well. His mind was still racing, though.
Currently his money was on either Wayne or Junior or both. He just needed one of them to slip up now that Jeremiah was tied up in the chuck wagon. So, while he rolled up his sleeping bag and finished gathering together his gear he kept a watchful eye on everyone else.
The others were busy packing up, too, except for Kyle. Kyle had been standing by himself for a while, hands in his pockets, clearly thinking hard about something. As Mark watched, Kyle suddenly moved, heading in the direction of the chuck wagon. He guessed that the television host was heading in to have a talk with the man who he thought was trying to kill him.
Jeremiah looked up as Kyle entered the wagon. He was actually a little surprised to see him, but he steeled himself to answer the other’s questions.