Justice Delayed (Memphis Cold Case #1)(100)

Andi pressed against the bandage on her leg. What she wouldn’t give for a Lortab right now, but it was in her purse in the car. Jillian had instructed Maggie on how to bind the wound, but that didn’t help the pain.

With the .38 tucked in her waistband, Jillian prodded their would-be captor with his own rifle. “Hug the pine tree,” she said. “And you, tie his hands.”

Maggie took the rope she tossed her.

“Make sure he can’t get loose,” Jillian said.

She checked the rope once Maggie finished. “Okay, you two, let’s go.”

“You can’t leave me here!” he yelled.

“Maybe I’ll send the game warden to get you.”

“What happened to the other man?” Andi said. Jillian hadn’t shot him because there’d been no gunfire.

She turned and shrugged. “He won’t bother anyone—he’s a tree hugger too.”

“Who is he?”

“Enough with the questions. Get moving.”

“No!” Andi dug in her heels. “I want to know who tried to kill me.”

Jillian pinched her lips together. “I see you haven’t changed. Spencer Delaney. Satisfied now? And I guarantee you, if he’d been trying to kill you, you’d be dead.”

Spencer? “Why?”

“See, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place—brings on more questions. Now, move.”

Maggie helped her to stand, and with the aid of a crutch Jillian had fashioned out of a branch, she limped down the dirt road.

No one spoke as they trekked toward the cabin, other than Andi’s involuntary groans when pain stabbed her leg. Treece’s boots were too big and rubbed up and down on her heel. The only comfort came from the Swiss knife pressed against her ankle.

The sun disappeared in a bank of clouds, and quarter-sized drops of rain splattered her face. She hadn’t thought she could walk back to the cabin, but a gun to her back made the impossible possible. Once they reached gravel, walking became easier. Andi knew the cabin couldn’t be much farther. But what was Jillian going to do with them when they reached it?

Maggie broke the silence. “How did you know they were after us?”

“Saw them when they passed the cabin. I should have kept right on packing.”

“What stopped you?” Andi asked.

“Knowing they’d kill you. Couldn’t live with that.”

The cabin came into sight, and in front of it, a pickup. Jillian’s, Andi guessed. The doors were open and boxes were stacked in the seat and the bed of the truck. Jillian motioned with the gun. “In the house.”

“Look, can we talk?” Maggie said. “We’re trying to stop Jimmy’s execution. You have evidence that will clear him or you wouldn’t have gone to see him. Tell us what you know. I know you don’t want his blood on your hands.”

The corner of Jillian’s mouth twitched, then she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help Jimmy. And I don’t want to answer your questions.” She waved the rifle again. “Inside.”

“Please tell us who killed Stephanie,” Andi pleaded, but looking into Jillian’s unyielding gray eyes was like looking at death. A band tightened around her chest, constricting her breath. This was not a game. And Jillian was not harmless. And she wasn’t going to help.

When Jillian prodded her with the gun again, Andi hobbled up the three steps and through the door and collapsed on the sofa.

“Don’t get too comfortable. You have to help Maggie load the truck.” Jillian propped the rifle she’d taken from the men against the wall and picked up a double-barreled shotgun.

Andi looked up at her. “What happened to you? You used to be a nice person.”

“That was a long time ago, and that person no longer exists. How did you know I was in Doskie, anyway?”

“I believe she does exist. We found you through the Christmas card you mailed Mom last year,” Andi said, reaching in her jacket pocket.

“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Jillian said.

She stilled her hands. “I was just going to show you.”

“I’ll get it. And there’s no way that my address was on the envelope—I never put my return address on anything.” She pulled the envelope from Andi’s pocket and glanced at it. “That is not my handwriting.”

Then she groaned. “I can’t believe it. Five years I’ve been able to live in peace up here, and Helpful Hannah trips me up. She must have added my address after I gave it to her to mail.”

“Why have you been hiding out?” Maggie asked.

“Reasons you wouldn’t understand. Now, because of you two, I have to find another place. And you’re going to finish loading the truck. Grab those.” She pointed to six boxes by the door.

“What are you going to do with us?”

“Haven’t decided. Now, move.”

“I can’t carry anything,” Andi said.

Jillian stared at the homemade crutch, then sighed. “I can’t leave you in here unrestrained.” She pulled a rope from her pocket and tossed it to Maggie. “Tie her hands to the wooden arm of the sofa.”

Once Jillian checked Maggie’s knots, she motioned her toward the boxes. Maggie grabbed two and walked out the door. As soon as they were out of sight, Andi wiggled the rope and tried to slide it off the sofa arm and onto the brace so it would be low enough for her to reach the knife in her boot. It was so close, but she’d never get it this way. She had to get the boot off to get the knife in her hands.