Out of the Depths Read online

  Her heart jumped like a grasshopper on a hot sidewalk. Cody has a cell phone. She wasn’t helpless after all! Or was she? What was Cody’s number? Had he written it down and given it to her? If so, where had she put it?

  Frustration bred tears. She sniffled. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Think. Better yet, pray.

  She desperately wanted to call out to God, yet it seemed there was nothing left inside her but pain. And fear.

  Cheeks bathed in tears, she pulled the little dog into her arms, held him tight and counted the seconds.

  Sailor was restless. So was Cody. He’d seen the police car leaving after Sailor had barked him awake. Local law enforcement had been keeping the place under pretty close surveillance ever since Jim’s disappearance, so the visit wasn’t unusual. Still, it was disquieting. Jim was in jail and Buford would be arrested soon, if he wasn’t already in custody, so why continue the patrol?

  Scowling, Cody paced to the window and peered through the drizzle at the lodge. Trudy Lynn was up there. Since there were no lights burning in her quarters he figured she must be sleeping, which was what he’d be doing if he had good sense.

  Standing beside him, Sailor growled so deeply Cody felt the vibration of the dog’s rib cage against his leg. That did it. He was going to get dressed and hike up the hill if it killed him. And if there was no sign Trudy Lynn was awake when he got there, he and Sailor would spend the rest of the night camped on her porch, standing guard. If she thought that was usurping too much control over her life, they could argue about it in the morning.

  He pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, then grabbed his hooded jacket, thankful it was waterproof. His cell phone was in the pocket. He took it out, held it for a moment, then decided against calling ahead. No use giving her the opportunity to insist he wasn’t needed.

  Besides, he admitted, slipping his feet into running shoes, it wasn’t Trudy Lynn he was really doing this for. He was the one who needed to see that she was safe, to place himself between her and any threat, real or imagined.

  The second he reached for the doorknob Sailor was right there, waiting to poke his nose out first.

  “Okay. Tonight you can go,” Cody said. “But no barking and waking everybody up. I’ll get your leash.”

  He’d no more than turned when he heard a horrendous splintering. He spun around. The door was hanging at an awkward angle, its lock free of the jamb. From the looks of the damage, Sailor had simply hurled himself against the old wood and taken off. Will’s recent repairs hadn’t stood a chance of withstanding so much concentrated force.

  “Well, that tears it,” Cody grumbled. “The whole camp will be awake in a few minutes.”

  He’d left the porch and was halfway up the hill when the phone in his pocket rang. Answering, he put his back to the wind and used the jacket’s hood as a shield. The caller was so agitated he couldn’t understand a word at first. “Slow down. Who is this?”

  “It’s me. Becky. Where are you?”

  “In camp. Why?”

  “The police were just here. They’re looking everywhere for Buford. Somebody must have told him Jim had been arrested and he took off. They don’t think he’s had time to get as far as the Spring River but I thought I should warn you, anyway.”

  The back of Cody’s neck bristled. “What’s Trudy Lynn’s number? Never mind. I’m almost to the lodge. Hang up and call the cops for me. Tell them to get out here in a hurry. Sailor’s sure there’s a prowler.”

  Blood was whooshing through the veins in Trudy’s Lynn’s head so fast it made a humming noise that hampered her hearing. Her temples were throbbing. Her ankle was, too, a quarter beat later. The skin felt drawn. Clearly, her foot and lower leg were starting to swell.

  Widget stiffened, cocked his head. Moments later she thought she heard the tinkle of breaking glass. It wasn’t loud, like a drinking glass shattering after being dropped onto the floor. It sounded more like one of the small panes in her back door was being tapped out.

  She closed her eyes and clung tightly to her little dog. If anyone was searching the place they’d be found. Quickly.

  A growl rumbled. Trudy Lynn closed her hand around Widget’s pointy muzzle and whispered, “Shush.”

  Struggling to get loose, the little terrier continued sounding the warning.

  She could hear soft footfalls now. A hesitant cadence. Someone had gotten inside! And they were coming closer.

  Gritting her teeth she dragged herself farther behind the bed. Beads of perspiration glistened on her forehead and trickled down her spine. This would have to be good enough. She couldn’t force herself to move one inch more.

  “Easy, boy, easy,” she whispered, hoping a soft tone and gentle petting would calm her anxious dog. Every muscle in his body was knotted, ready for action. If he got away from her and attacked the prowler the way he obviously wanted to, there was no telling how badly he’d be hurt. She couldn’t let that happen.

  A sudden jingling on the floor at the foot of the bed made Trudy Lynn jump. She bit back a gasp. The phone! She’d been so concerned for Widget she must have dropped it. Were the police calling her back? Were they almost there?

  A sudden foreboding thought gave her chills. Suppose there had been confusion about who she was or where she was calling from? Had she mentioned the camp? She must have. Besides, the dispatcher had caller ID, right? But would it work with a portable number?

  The little phone continued to play the tune she’d programmed into it instead of its normal ring. Music she’d once thought amusing was now mocking. Even if she could convince herself to crawl out of hiding to answer, the caller would probably have hung up by the time she got there. And then she’d be back in the open, a sitting duck.

  Yeah. A duck with a broken wing and no way to defend myself, she added, grimacing. There was nothing to do but sit there and wait till the stupid thing finally shut up.

  By the sixth repeat of the silly ditty she was ready to smash the phone with anything at hand. Only there wasn’t anything at hand. Not even a canoe paddle. If she was so organized and perfectly prepared, why hadn’t she put one in her bedroom? That question wasn’t as ridiculous as it sounded.

  “Because I didn’t dream I was going to need a weapon,” she whispered. “Not here. Not in Serenity.”

  The phone fell silent. Listening for footsteps in the background, Trudy Lynn thought she heard two sets, one slow and another faster, lighter. She held her breath. Strained to hear. She’d had to have been wearing earplugs to miss the ensuing groan and heavy thump.

  Were the police here? If they were, if they’d captured her prowler, then why didn’t somebody turn the electricity back on?

  In her arms, Widget’s growl intensified till his whole body shook. The beam from a flashlight swept through the door and around the room. It came to rest on the cell phone.

  Someone laughed and said, “Well, well.” Someone whose voice sounded familiar. Only it couldn’t possibly be him.

  Soft footfalls approached. The light blinded Trudy Lynn. She blinked and shaded her eyes, trying to see who was really there. Widget had ceased growling and was in full attack mode, barking so fervently he drowned out everything else.

  “Still got the rat, I see,” the voice said.

  That was enough identification for Trudy. She didn’t have to see his face to recognize his attitude. “Ned? What’re you doing here?”

  “Can’t I stop by to see my ex-fiancée?”

  In spite of the animosity evident in his tone she was glad he’d chosen this particular night to visit. “Listen. There’s a prowler in the building. I heard him break in the back door. I think it’s that Buford guy from downriver. He’s been growing marijuana in the forest.”

  “Has he, now?”

  “Yes. My cousin, Jim, was working for him.”

  “Who else?” Ned asked.

  “Jim worked for me, too. He kept my books.”

  Ned snorted as if he thought she was the most dull-witted person on the planet. “I mean, wh
o else was working with Buford and Jimmy?”

  “How should I know?” Trudy Lynn was getting aggravated. “You’d better shut off that light before Buford sees it.”

  “He’s not going to see anything. Not from where he is.”

  She brightened. “The noise in the hall? Was that you? Did you knock him out?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Praise God. My prayers were answered!”

  “Still on your soapbox, I see,” Ned remarked. “That’s probably for the best. At least you think you’ll go to heaven. That must be some comfort at a time like this.”

  Trudy Lynn instinctively started to inch away. Her ankle protested. “What are you talking about?”

  “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you? Had to go nosing into other people’s business like you had a right. I’ve always hated that about you.” He snorted. “Among other things.”

  “Then why did you ask me to marry you?”

  “Haven’t you figured that out by now? If you’d come to the city like you were supposed to, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.” He laughed menacingly. “You actually might have enjoyed being my wife for a while, at least until I got tired of you.”

  “You said you loved me!”

  “I was good, wasn’t I? Nobody suspected a thing. Not even your friends. Most of them were even on my side, trying to convince you to let go of this dump and move away. You should have listened to them. Why didn’t you?”

  Anger replaced astonishment, giving her courage. “Because I knew something was wrong between us. In my heart, I knew.”

  “Women’s intuition?”

  She shook her head. “No. God must have been warning me all along. I’m just thankful I listened.”

  “Really?” Ned perched on the corner of the mattress, his feet mere inches from where she lay on the floor. “Did He also tell you why I wanted you to leave here?”

  “No, of course not.” Her thoughts spun. Her eyes widened. It was all starting to tie together and make sense—the vandalism, the other camps closing, the location of the illegal crop and the greenhouse…Ned’s insistence that she had to leave Serenity for his sake.

  Squinting, she could see only a shadowy form behind the light but she could tell when his head nodded.

  “I see you’ve figured it out.” He got to his feet and towered over her. “Too bad. I was hoping our friend Buford would take care of this for me.” He gave a sardonic chuckle. “Oh, well, at least he’s not alive to deny it. That’ll do.”

  “You killed him?”

  “In self-defense,” Ned drawled. “Too bad I got here too late to prevent him from killing you, first.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Cody saw the beam of a flashlight moving through the lodge. Instead of burglar-like wandering, the light headed straight for Trudy Lynn’s living quarters!

  Rounding the corner of the store, Cody noticed a black sedan, parked where it couldn’t be seen from the road. It was new. Clean. Expensive. If Buford had arrived in that, he’d sure come up in the world.

  “Probably stole it,” he muttered. Sailor loped up beside him, out of breath, tongue lolling. With his fur puffed out by aggression he looked even bigger than usual.

  Cody grabbed the dog’s collar. “Easy now. We’ll do this together.” He didn’t want to endanger his best buddy but he figured Buford would be far more likely to back down if he saw he had a growling animal the size of a black bear to contend with.

  The rear door stood ajar. Cody eased it open farther. Flashes of lightning glinted off shards of broken glass on the tile floor. He led Sailor around them to protect the dog’s feet.

  Muffled voices were drifting up the hall. The Newf heard them, too. It leaped ahead, almost jerked loose, and headed down the dark passageway at a gallop, dragging Cody along like a water skier following the wake of a speedboat.

  A sharp turn at the doorway scraped him off. Sailor never slowed. He crossed the room and hit the person holding the flashlight at full gallop.

  Trudy Lynn screamed. Instinct told her to throw herself backward and cover her face with her arms.

  Widget scrambled away, bounced off the wall and dashed into the fray, yipping wildly.

  Above and to one side, a terrible fight was taking place. Men were shouting. Animals were growling and snapping. Fabric tore. Furniture crashed into the walls. Glass shattered.

  Trudy Lynn managed to slide her injured ankle far enough under the bed to protect it. The rest of her was hunkered down as close to the box spring as possible.

  Something soggy and hairy bumped into her. That odor! Wet dog! It had to be Sailor. Nothing else was that big or smelled quite that doggy when it was damp. And if Sailor was here, Cody must be!

  A man grunted. A punch connected. A body hit the wall and slid to the floor beyond the dresser. Trudy Lynn held her breath and prayed that Cody was the one still on his feet.

  Sailor’s wagging tail began to slap her with a welcome cadence. He was no longer in attack mode! Someone was reaching for the discarded flashlight, picking it up. The beam once again swung in her direction.

  “Cody?” she asked hopefully.

  “I’m here,” he answered. “Are you okay?”

  “I am now.”

  “Thank God.” It was definitely a prayerful statement.

  “I’ll second that,” she said. “How did you know I was in trouble?”

  “Sailor told me.” Cody lowered himself to the edge of the bed and shined the flashlight on the crumpled attacker. “Whew! That was close. I thought…” The beam played over the man. “Hold it. That’s not Buford.”

  “No,” Trudy Lynn said sadly. “That’s Ned.”

  “What’s he doing here.”

  She shivered, suddenly chilled to the bone. “He just told me he killed Buford. He said he was going to kill me next and blame it on poor Buford.”

  Cody swung the light back to her face. “What?! Are you sure?”

  “I’m afraid I am.” Her lower lip began to quiver in spite of the immense relief of having Cody there. He offered his hand to her. She shook her head. “Sorry. I’d better sit tight till the paramedics arrive.”

  Cody leaned down beside her. “You said you were fine. What’s wrong?”

  “I think my ankle’s broken.”

  “Show me.”

  “Uh-uh. It’s safe under the bed. I had to crawl to get this far. I’m not moving one more inch on my own.”

  She saw him shine the light around the room, then return it to Ned. The other man was beginning to stir.

  “Got any rope in here?” Cody asked.

  “Will scarves do?”

  “Belts would be better.”

  “In the closet. Hanging on a rack on the far right,” Trudy Lynn said.

  He returned and handed her the flashlight. “Hold this for me while I tie him up.”

  “Okay.” The throbbing in her foot was beginning to keep her from thinking clearly. “I, um, I did call the police,” she said. “I’m not sure they got the right information, though. Maybe you should call again.”

  “I already had Becky do that.” Cody straightened. “The one thing I’m not sure of is whether or not Ned was alone.”

  “I did hear at least two sets of footsteps. I think one of them was Buford, though, before Ned took care of him.” Her trembling had intensified so badly she couldn’t hold the light steady.

  “You’re going into shock,” Cody said flatly. “I won’t take the chance of getting trapped in here with another lunatic. Two’s my limit.” He again held out his hand. “Come on. Either you help or I’ll have to carry you.”

  Pain colored her answer, turned it harsh. “Oh, yeah? How? You can hardly walk, yourself.”

  “I’ll manage. Well, what’ll it be?”

  “I’ll help, I’ll help,” she said quickly. “Let me do it slowly. It really hurts.”

  “I believe that. Where are those scarves you said you had?”

  “In the dresser. Bottom d
rawer. Why?”

  “I’m going to make a splint to keep you from damaging that ankle any worse.” He paused. “Is that okay or are you planning to argue?”

  “Not me,” Trudy Lynn managed brief movements punctuated with gasps and gritted teeth. “Where’s Widget?”

  “Standing on Ned’s chest, snarling at him.”

  “Good. Anybody who calls my darling little dog a rat deserves to be treated like the rotten person he is.” She winced. “I hope he rots in jail for everything he’s done. I can’t believe I ever considered marrying that scumbag.”

  “Neither can I.” Cody returned with two plastic hangers and bent down. “Can you hold one of these on each side of your ankle while I wrap it? I’ll be as gentle as possible.”

  “I know you will.” His hands were tender, his movements patient. She’d made up her mind not to cry out and she succeeded except for one little mew.

  “Sorry,” Cody said.

  “It’s okay. I’m a wimp.”

  “If you are, you’re the bravest one I’ve ever known,” he countered. “There. I’m done. Ready to get up?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. Are you sure this is necessary?”

  “Not positive, no. But I think it’s wise.”

  She let him hoist her into a standing position, gritting her teeth to keep from crying out. “That’s good enough for me,” she said. “I trust your judgment.”

  “You do?”

  His incredulity was almost enough to make her laugh in spite of her suffering. “Yes, I do. Come on. Let’s get out of here before I change my mind.”

  “Your ankle’s broken,” Cody told Trudy Lynn later.

  “Surprise, surprise.” She winced. “What about Ned? Did the sheriff arrest him? Was he alone?”

  “Yes, and yes. Jimmy identified the other men involved in the operation and they’ve already been picked up. The Drug Task Force is raiding the greenhouse as we speak. It’s all over.”

  “Thank God for that,” she whispered prayerfully.