And There He Kept Her (Ben Packard #1)(88)
“Emmett Burr’s residence. Didn’t you send her out there to talk to him about the gun?”
“Goddamn it.” Packard felt like he was being drawn and quartered. He needed to be in four different places at that exact moment. “Cancel the deputy for out here and route everyone to Emmett Burr’s address. He should be considered armed and dangerous. Send EMS, too. Keep trying to get hold of Thielen. I’m on my way.”
Back inside, Gary had a photo album open over the top of his keyboard, pointing at old photographs held in place behind yellowing plastic. “Here’s one of you and Mom drinking Tab at the picnic table that used to be out back. What year is this?”
“Probably late seventies,” Cora said. “Way before Greta was born. I’m holding a cigarette like a hussy. I quit when the Lord blessed us with her.”
Packard hated to break up this moment, but there was no time. “Cora, I need you to come with me. We have to hurry.”
Cora snapped to like she’d been under some kind of spell. “What is it?”
He held the front door open. “Let’s go. Gary, thanks for your help.”
“Honey, it was nothing. Bye, Cora. It was nice visiting with you.”
Packard hurried her down the ramp. He waited until they were back in her yard, then grabbed her arm. “Listen, Cora. Something happened last night between Emmett and Carl. Carl’s been killed.”
He waited but Cora said nothing. The sun was in her eyes. She squinted and dropped her head.
“I have a diver in the quarry back there. He said the tow truck is at the bottom. Carl’s inside.”
“What about the Grand Am?”
“It’s at the bottom of the quarry, too. There’s a body in the trunk I’m guessing is Jesse Crawford.”
Cora started walking again. “My husband did not walk with the Lord. He had wicked urges. He thought he kept them hidden from me but he wasn’t as smart as he thought. I’ve prayed and prayed for him. But I didn’t know about those kids. I’ll swear on a stack of Bibles,” she said.
Packard found empathy for Cora he hadn’t felt before. His primary concern was still Thielen. “I believe you, Cora. I don’t know what Carl’s involvement was in all this, but I need to get to Emmett’s right now and find out. I’m sorry to leave you with news like this—”
“Go. I have Greta and we have the Lord. Isaiah 41:10 says ‘Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.’”
“All right then. I had Shepard request an ambulance and more investigators from the sheriff’s department. They’ll be here soon.”
Cora put her hand on him. “God bless you,” she said.
Packard nodded and ran for the truck.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Emmett killed the skid loader’s engine, lit a cigarette, and stared into the hole he’d spent the last hour making in the reddish-black soil. Groundwater was leaching in from the bottom. It’d be a foot deep by the time he came back with the girl’s body in the bucket and tipped her in.
While digging, he’d added up the number of deaths he was responsible for. Wanda. The jogger. The girl’s boyfriend. The Gherlick kid. Carl. Hell, even the whore from the truck stop. He’d always blamed that one on Carl, but he certainly hadn’t done anything to help her. That made six. The girl would be seven.
He’d missed when he fired the gun at her. He knew better than to pull the trigger without aiming, but she’d dumped the goddamn toilet bucket over his head! He had piss in his eyes. A second shot was a bad idea considering he could see fishing boats on the water from where he stood.
It only took the threat of the gun to get her to walk back to the cage. She’d gotten loose by taking the wire from the thing in her mouth and using it to release the handcuff’s ratchet. He put her back in the manacles, and stuck his finger through a hole in her red T-shirt and ripped it wide open to the collar. She looked sick and broken to him now. Bruised and covered in sores and bleeding through the bandage on her hand. He clawed at the things she had taped to her abdomen until the adhesive lifted away like scabs. He looked around for her pump, found it under the cot, and smashed it. Everything was for nothing. All the time he spent taking care of her, all the things he’d bought for her. He’d killed Carl for no reason. He should have let him have her.
She twisted and fought him as he hooked a finger in her mouth, pulled it open, and fed her the pills in his pocket like he was putting quarters into a slot. Her can of water was half-full. He emptied it into her mouth and pushed her chin up with the heel of his hand.
He saw in her eyes she knew what he was doing.
“Swallow,” he said.
She sputtered, sprayed him, puffing out her cheeks, trying to hold everything back. He pinched her nose shut until her face turned red, then suddenly let go of her chin. She sucked air like a drain cleared of a clog. That many pills at once was probably enough to kill her. Definitely enough to put her in a state where she wouldn’t fight him when he came back to load her in the Bobcat. If she was still alive when he put her in the hole, she wouldn’t be by the time he finished filling it.
The sun came down in rays through the trees and lit the green undergrowth surrounding him. Emmett felt strangely calm, like things were on their way back to normal. He looked at the cigarette he was smoking, checked the pack in his pocket, and realized it was the brand from the boy’s backpack. He inhaled deeply, really tasting the gritty warmth that inflated his chest. A good cigarette was one of life’s true pleasures.