Stephen White - Cold Case

I threw the second rock. It thudded hard against her upper arm. She yelped and swung the barrel of the shotgun toward me. I tried to disappear behind the rock as I waited for the roar of the second barrel. Instead I heard three quick claps from Kimber's pistol bounce off the hillsides. The blasts were so close together that the echoes made them sound like a single shot.

I looked up in time to see Cathy fall. She didn't fall backward. She didn't pitch forward. Her knees softened, and a second or two later she crumpled right where she had stood. Her lips were moving as though she was in silent prayer.

The shotgun reached the ground before she did.

I said, "Kimber, are you all right?"

"Fine. You?"

"Good, I think. What do we do now? Dell's probably on his way back."

Before I had a chance to reply, I heard, "How about we do this now? Why don't I take you two to see your friends? I think they'll be more than happy to see you." Dell Franklin was walking back down the hillside toward us. One of his hands was raised above his head like a prisoners. The other one gripped a big chain saw. He took a path down the hill that let him pass at least ten feet from Cathy's body. Not once did he glance over at her. Kimber kept his gun leveled at Dell's chest but Dell didn't seem to notice it.

He looked first at me and smiled ruefully. Turning to Kimber, he said, "Thank you. Thank you both. I didn't have the heart to do that to her. But… I'm afraid that it needed to be done."

Kimber moved over to Cathy's body and rested his fingers against her neck. He craned his neck to look up at Dell.

"Cathy thought the gun was loaded?"

Dell shrugged.

"Not sure what she thought." He didn't expect us to believe him.

We didn't.

"How did you know I had a gun?" Kimber asked.

"Didn't know for sure. I was afraid Cathy had managed to kill the two of you when she toppled those trees down the hill on top of Phil. Since you escaped I kind of hoped you had Phil's gun with you, but if you didn't, I figured I didn't have much more to lose, no matter what. I'd go get some line and tie you up.

Work on plan B." I said, "Flynn and russ? They're okay?"

"I can't be sure, but they were when I left them. Lets go check. We might need this." He hoisted the big saw.

Kimber was still kneeling next to Cathy. He said, "Your wife, Dell? She's still alive."

Dell looked over, down at the mother of his two children, the blood pouring from below her sternum. His eyes were dispassionate as he said, "That's a bad wound she has. She won't be alive for too long." Kimber said, "He's right."

I was the only one who kept looking back at Cathy. The callousness of the decision to leave her there to die made me feel hollow and cruel. Finally, near the boundary of the blow down I yelled to Kimber and Dell that I'd wait with Cathy until help arrived, and I jogged back up the hill. When I got next to her, though, I saw a pool of her own blood that was floating dust and forest debris.

The quantity of blood she'd lost was immense. I lifted her wrist but couldn't locate a pulse. I lowered my ear to her face but couldn't hear any breath sounds.

I trudged back down the hill and rejoined Kimber and Dell, who had waited for me. Neither of them met my eyes. We reentered the dead forest. I never thought I would voluntarily enter the perimeter of the blow down again. The web of dead trees terrified me as we descended into the deepest drifts of lumber. Dell led us. I followed Kimber. After walking for ten minutes, Dell stopped and looked us in the eye one at a time and said, "It was important to me that you hear the story from Cathy's own lips, just the way I did a few days back. If I had to tell it on my own, I don't think I could do it justice." He shook his head.

"Right about here is where Phil said the reporter and her husband are buried.

Somebody should know that, look for them. Bury them properly."

He pointed up the hill.

"It's too dark to see, but Phil brought an entire hillside of trees down into this ravine on top of their bodies."

So Phil Barrett had killed Dorothy's husband, too. What was his name? Oh yeah, Doug.

We walked on. I felt numb. What had Dorothy learned that warranted her murder?

Another ten minutes passed. We weren't covering much ground. The path wasn't clear; broken trees and stumps littered the way. Kimber said, "Dell? Earlier?

You were supposed to kill Flynn and Russ?"

"Yes. That's the way Phil had it planned. I was supposed to take care of the two of them and he'd take care of the two of you. We'd let the forest bury the bodies. While he was down in Clark picking you up though, and while Cathy was busy setting the charges on the hillside, I tied your friends up, moved them someplace I thought would be safe, and fired a few shots into the air. Even though Cathy set off the charge, they should be okay where I put them. We'll see real soon. We're almost there."

It took thirty minutes of the deafening roar of the chain saw to free Flynn and Russ from the spot where Dell had sheltered them from the cascade of broken trunks and limbs that the explosives had sent down the mountainside. The lacy web of timber that had imprisoned them in a crevasse at the base of a high rock face was almost eight feet deep. Each time the saw quieted I told Flynn and Russ another part of the story we'd just learned from Cathy and Dell.

Flynn and Russ finally crawled up through the narrow opening that Dell created with his saw. They were both filthy but neither of them appeared to be injured.

Flynn climbed out of the cavern first, then Russ.

Flynn went to embrace Kimber. During the frantic effort to free Flynn and Russ I hadn't noticed his withdrawal from our activity.

"Alan," she said.

"Look at Kimber."

I turned toward him. His arms were crossed over his chest. His eyes were orbs of pure fear.

"I can't breathe," he said.

"I think I'm having a heart attack." His hands were shaking. Despite the chill of the night, beads of sweat dotted his upper lip and brow. He was gasping for breath.

"I can't stay here. I've got to get out of here."

I climbed closer to him.

"It's a panic attack, Kimber. This will pass. You're going to be okay. They always pass, right?"

"No, no. I'm not going to be okay this time! This is worse. I feel like I'm going to die up here. I have to get away from this place. Right now, please. I have to go." His eyes scanned the hillside, searching for imaginary dangers.

I knew I had to grant him whatever control I could.

"That's fine, Kimber. Where would you like to go?"

He didn't hesitate.

"Back to your car. I like it in your car. Right now I want to go to your car."

I needed a helicopter to locate my car. I didn't even know which way to look for it.

Dell Franklins mouth was open as he stared at Kimber. Finally, he said, "We're not too far from it, actually. Your car."

"Can you show us?"

"Sure." Kimber said, "I'm dizzy. I can't feel my hands."

"You'll be okay, Kimber."

"No, no. I won't. I'm afraid I won't."

Dell led us to my car. At times Kimber jogged through the narrow paths between the fallen trees. At times he cowered and waited for Flynn or me to steady him.

The relief I felt at finally clearing the perimeter of the blow down was enormous.

I kept waiting for Kimber's panic attack to abate. But it showed no signs of lessening.

I fumbled for my keys. Kimber climbed into the backseat, begging, "Music! I want music. More Beethoven. Boz Scaggs. Somebody. I don't want to die back here."

I turned to Flynn and Russ.

"We shouldn't all pile in there with him. He needs space. I'll drive him down to town and try to get him stabilized. Dell, where are the other cars?"

"A quarter mile from here, around the edge of the blow down That's all. You go ahead. The three of us will follow you in my truck."