Back to Lazarus

Chapter 18

18

Don’t do anything stupid, huh? But what had I done, stupid or otherwise, to land myself in the hospital? I had to have done something. This hadn’t just been random violence. Despite what Yankee fans of Deliverance might think, the South is not patrolled by roaming hordes of rednecks looking to enjoy some good ole boy fun. This was a planned, coordinated attack. Two vehicles with several men in protective clothing followed me to an isolated area they knew well to execute their plan. Why? What was the motive?

I had nothing of value, and as far as I knew they hadn’t taken anything except me, and maybe one of my shoes. They hadn’t said much, hadn’t asked me any questions, so they couldn’t be after information. Not that I’m exactly James Bond anyway. The biggest secret they could get out of me is my Aunt Faye’s recipe for potato candy, and even that only if I could find the little index card. But they didn’t ask me anything, and they didn’t really tell me anything. They just scared the s**t of me. That’s what we professionals call the motive of intimidation. A not very professional motive, I might add, indicating I was probably dealing with someone either stupid or psychotic. Which brought me full circle back to why.

By this point I’d blown my remaining brain fuses and was just about at intellectual blackout. The pressure in my skull was getting pretty intense, but at least it was making my throbbing hand and burning feet less noticeable. When Nurse Marie came in, I intended to ask her for some assistance in the distraction department (if I couldn’t think straight I might as well be pharmaceutically happy) but changed my mind when I saw she was wearing her serious face. “The police are here to speak with you, if you’re up to it.”

My pulse abruptly picked up its pace and my blood pressure rose. My vision started going fuzzy again. I felt like I’d done something wrong. It was an involuntary reaction, like taking your foot off the gas at the sight of a state trooper when you’re already driving the speed limit. I’ve always had an unreasoning distrust of law enforcement, and I’m sure working at the PD’s office and hanging out with defense attorneys hasn’t helped. It’s a good way to hear about the worst law enforcement has to offer. Rationally, I know the evil acts that most people wouldn’t believe if you told them are perpetrated by 1% of law enforcement (okay, maybe 5% on a bad day), but the bad guys aren’t considerate enough to wear big Cs for “crook” on their chests. And, like the proverbial bad apple, if unchecked the rot spreads pretty easily in the dark.

“Yeah. Sure. Okay.” As she left to let the cops in, I remembered my need for assistance. “Marie!” Bad move calling loudly. (I couldn’t have managed a yell.) My vision went dark and I waited for it to clear. “Could I get something else to drink, maybe a Coke to settle my stomach? Thanks.” Not exactly a happy narcotic, but it was something.

Two men in button-down shirts and khakis entered. They were both in their early forties, clean-shaven with dark hair and enough physical resemblance to be brothers. One made the introductions while the other screeched chairs over to my bed. I found their synchronicity slightly disturbing, as a suspect might. “Sydney Brennan? I’m Detective Drake and this is Detective Sutton. We’re with the Stetler County Sheriff’s Department. How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m just thrilled to be here.” I wasn’t sure if I was being sincere or sarcastic, and by their expressions I could tell the detectives weren’t either. It seemed to throw off Drake a bit. One point for me.

“We’d like to speak with you about what happened last night.”

I was glad to see Marie return with a Styrofoam cup of soda over crushed ice. I felt so worn out. I thanked Marie and took a sip. She smiled at me, then turned to the detectives with the stern look she’d used on me earlier. “Don’t be too long,” she told them.

“Yes, ma’am,” responded Drake, ever accommodating. Sutton hadn’t spoken at all yet. When Marie had gone, I nodded my head and Drake continued.

“We found your rental car, Ms. Brennan. It doesn’t appear that anything was taken—your bag and other personal effects are there—but we’ll need you to confirm that nothing is missing. Can you tell us why you were out there?”

“I was visiting someone in Lazarus.” He waited, but I didn’t volunteer anything else.

“Ms. Brennan, you are a private investigator. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Were you working on a case?”

“Yes.”

Again, he waited, but as mule-headed as it might sound I wasn’t about to do his job for him. This time Sutton spoke. “Ms. Brennan, could you tell us what happened?”

I took another sip of soda to give myself strength. “I’ll try. Things are still a little fuzzy. I was meeting with someone in Lazarus at her home. When I left there, I stopped at a convenience store—”

“The Shop-n-Save on 98?” Sutton interrupted.

“Yes. I think that’s the one. I was in there for a few minutes. When I left, it must have been around nine p.m. It was dark. I’d probably driven about twenty minutes when the pick-up in front of me stopped short. There was another vehicle behind me, I believe also a pick-up. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t suspicious at all. I just thought there was something in the road. Someone from the vehicle behind me knocked on my window. I couldn’t see him because he was standing too close and he’d left his high beams on. When I opened the door, he yanked me out, threw a hood over me and dragged me to the bed of the first pick-up.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“I didn’t see any faces if that’s what you mean. When they took my hood off, they were all dressed in black, wearing gloves and ski masks that covered their mouths.”

“Go on.”

“They drove for a while. Just in the one truck. I don’t know how long, but probably not more than fifteen minutes and definitely not more than half an hour. Then we pulled off onto a little dirt road. There was a clearing in the woods there, and that’s where they took my hood off.”

“Would you recognize the place if you saw it again?”

“I don’t know. I might.”

“How many people were there?”

I closed my eyes. “One held me in a sort of chokehold while we were driving. He had strong body odor. When we stopped everyone moved around—they were wearing heavy boots and the metal truck bed was bare—and there were three men in the back with me. I’d guess there were two more in the cab, but I’m not sure. It could have been as little as one or as many as three. So total, between four and six men.”

I opened my eyes. “I don’t really remember much after that. Flashes, but nothing that makes much sense. Obviously they knocked me around quite a bit. I don’t know how I got away, but I probably got in a few shots of my own.” I looked down at my hands. “My nails are a mess. I don’t know if anyone took samples—”

“We have swabs and clippings. It’s the hospital’s standard procedure for potential, uh, well.” Sutton trailed off.

“I wasn’t raped. I’m not sure what did happen, but I know I wasn’t raped.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re aware that you weren’t sexually assaulted.”

I tried not to think too hard about that one. “Somehow I got away and ran into the woods. I must have been there all night. I think there was a farmer the next morning.” My eyes slid shut again. I was so exhausted that tears leaked from the outer corners of my eyes. I just wanted to sleep. My arm was too heavy to move to reach my soda.

Sutton spoke. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Fisher. He and his wife brought you in this morning. We’ve spoken with him and he’s going to take us out there this afternoon, out where he found you.”

I had a quick flash of memory and opened my eyes. “We marked it.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll see if we can back-track from there to the clearing.”

My eyes were closed again, and I thought they must have taken the hint until Drake’s voice cut into my doze. “Ms. Brennan,” he said sharply. I opened my eyes. “What were you working on?”

“I can’t imagine it had anything to do with this.”

“With all due respect, Miss Brennan,” and Drake’s expression told me how little was due, “that’s our job, deciding what is or isn’t relevant.”

I tried to glare at him, and it made my head hurt worse. I almost told him to f**k off. Probably not a smart move, but under the circumstances, who could hold it against me? After another good look at Drake, I felt sure he would. I fully intended to stare him down for as long as I remained conscious, but was saved from such a dramatic gesture by Sutton.

“Ms. Brennan, you said you were here working on a case. We know you live in Tallahassee, and my guess is you don’t take many pleasure trips to Stetler County. In fact, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m guessing you don’t know a single person here that’s not connected with what you’re working on. Doesn’t it make sense that we should start with your investigation?”

I sighed. Put that way, I knew he was right, and I was too tired to argue. It was getting more and more difficult to speak, and I wasn’t sure what I could ethically divulge. “I can’t give you details until I’ve spoken to my client. I’m looking into her—family background.”

Drake leaned forward. “Anything illegal in it? Any criminal history?”

I knew this was an area that would make the case, and my client, pretty easily identifiable, but I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to be left alone. “Someone in her family was convicted of killing his wife twenty years ago. He’s dead now. There are no active issues. There was nothing… unresolved. That’s why it doesn’t make sense. It must be something else.”

I closed my eyes, and this time I wasn’t opening them again for anyone or anything. Fortunately I didn’t have to test my resolve. Marie came in and asked them to leave. I was asleep before they left the building, if not before they left my room.