Read Online Don't Take Any Wooden Nickels by Mindy Starns Clark - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mindy Starns Clark
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before he was loaded into the trunk and driven back to Kawshek, where the car was parked in front of Shayna’s apartment building.
I stood up straight, walked back to the center of the road, and turned off my light. The darkness was instant and all-enveloping.
Like most of the peninsula this time of night, all was silent and still. I could smell the water. I could hear the rustle of a light wind in the cattails. Because it was November, there were no grasshoppers or crickets to sing in the dark, no nightbirds to peal in the sky. It was just quiet.
Deathly quiet.
A slow shiver made its way up my spine when it struck me that I might not be alone here. Suddenly, despite the silence in the air, I had the feeling that I was being watched. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I thought to myself as I gripped the cell phone in my pocket. To come out here in the dark, alone and without protection, was just stupid.
Suddenly, a new smell wafted its way to me, a smell of something familiar but out of place, like something that didn’t belong here in the wilderness. I sniffed, my mind racing. Was it Lysol? Windex?
No, I realized. It was Clorox. Inhaling, I detected the distinct odor of bleach.
Resisting the urge to run away, I took a few steps back as I pulled from my coat pocket my cell phone and the business card given to me by Barbara Hightower. I dialed as quickly as I could, hit the “send” button, and put the phone to my ear.
Nothing.
I looked at the screen and saw a blinking message: “Out of service area.”
With a chill, I started walking back the way I had come, wondering how far I would have to go before I was in range of a cellular tower. That’s always how it was out here—spotty service, gaps in usage—but until this moment it hadn’t ever really mattered that much.
My senses were heightened, and I looked around wildly as I continued to walk. It still seemed as though someone were watching me, though I couldn’t put my finger on what made me feel that way. I turned around and shined my flashlight into the darkness surrounding me, but all I could make out, up high andfar in the distance, was a glowing pair of eyes looking back at me. They looked strange, but I knew they probably belonged to an owl.
I heard rustling close by, along the side of the road, and my heart quickened. Was it a person? An animal? I didn’t wait to find out. Instead I turned and took off running, heading back toward Kawshek as quickly as I could.
There were no footsteps behind me, no heavy breathing down my neck, so after a few minutes I slowed down and checked my phone again. According to the little green screen, I was back in calling range.
I stopped and dialed Barbara’s number with trembling fingers, praying it was a direct line straight to her.
She answered on the third ring.
“Barbara?” I said. “It’s Callie Webber. I’ve got something important to show you. I think you’ll want to come see it right now.”
“Where are you?” she asked.
I described my location and reiterated that it was important she come immediately.
“I’m on my way,” she agreed tiredly.
“Oh, and Barbara?” I said, wrapping my arm around myself and trying not to shiver. “If you don’t mind, stay on the line with me until you get here, okay?”
Eleven
By the time I finally arrived home, I was frozen solid and completely exhausted. Though I would’ve liked to start a fire, I was just too tired. Instead, I went straight to the bedroom, clickedmy electric blanket on “high,” and then changed into the warmest pajamas and housecoat I owned.
At least I was allowed to leave the scene of the crime, I thought. My probing around in the dark at night, following Eddie Ray’s trail of blood with a Personal Inspection Light, had of course looked a bit suspect at first. But then Barbara Hightower had vouched for me, and the fact that I was a licensed PI helped to smooth over any lingering doubts. In the end, and except for the suspicious
I stood up straight, walked back to the center of the road, and turned off my light. The darkness was instant and all-enveloping.
Like most of the peninsula this time of night, all was silent and still. I could smell the water. I could hear the rustle of a light wind in the cattails. Because it was November, there were no grasshoppers or crickets to sing in the dark, no nightbirds to peal in the sky. It was just quiet.
Deathly quiet.
A slow shiver made its way up my spine when it struck me that I might not be alone here. Suddenly, despite the silence in the air, I had the feeling that I was being watched. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I thought to myself as I gripped the cell phone in my pocket. To come out here in the dark, alone and without protection, was just stupid.
Suddenly, a new smell wafted its way to me, a smell of something familiar but out of place, like something that didn’t belong here in the wilderness. I sniffed, my mind racing. Was it Lysol? Windex?
No, I realized. It was Clorox. Inhaling, I detected the distinct odor of bleach.
Resisting the urge to run away, I took a few steps back as I pulled from my coat pocket my cell phone and the business card given to me by Barbara Hightower. I dialed as quickly as I could, hit the “send” button, and put the phone to my ear.
Nothing.
I looked at the screen and saw a blinking message: “Out of service area.”
With a chill, I started walking back the way I had come, wondering how far I would have to go before I was in range of a cellular tower. That’s always how it was out here—spotty service, gaps in usage—but until this moment it hadn’t ever really mattered that much.
My senses were heightened, and I looked around wildly as I continued to walk. It still seemed as though someone were watching me, though I couldn’t put my finger on what made me feel that way. I turned around and shined my flashlight into the darkness surrounding me, but all I could make out, up high andfar in the distance, was a glowing pair of eyes looking back at me. They looked strange, but I knew they probably belonged to an owl.
I heard rustling close by, along the side of the road, and my heart quickened. Was it a person? An animal? I didn’t wait to find out. Instead I turned and took off running, heading back toward Kawshek as quickly as I could.
There were no footsteps behind me, no heavy breathing down my neck, so after a few minutes I slowed down and checked my phone again. According to the little green screen, I was back in calling range.
I stopped and dialed Barbara’s number with trembling fingers, praying it was a direct line straight to her.
She answered on the third ring.
“Barbara?” I said. “It’s Callie Webber. I’ve got something important to show you. I think you’ll want to come see it right now.”
“Where are you?” she asked.
I described my location and reiterated that it was important she come immediately.
“I’m on my way,” she agreed tiredly.
“Oh, and Barbara?” I said, wrapping my arm around myself and trying not to shiver. “If you don’t mind, stay on the line with me until you get here, okay?”
Eleven
By the time I finally arrived home, I was frozen solid and completely exhausted. Though I would’ve liked to start a fire, I was just too tired. Instead, I went straight to the bedroom, clickedmy electric blanket on “high,” and then changed into the warmest pajamas and housecoat I owned.
At least I was allowed to leave the scene of the crime, I thought. My probing around in the dark at night, following Eddie Ray’s trail of blood with a Personal Inspection Light, had of course looked a bit suspect at first. But then Barbara Hightower had vouched for me, and the fact that I was a licensed PI helped to smooth over any lingering doubts. In the end, and except for the suspicious
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