Bats and Bones (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries) (15 page)

Donna said,
“That won’t hide it.”

“I know but
maybe it will look like it hasn’t been disturbed. Best I can do on short
notice.”

Frannie
descended the steps and got a glimpse of wooden shelves lining the back wall.
As they lowered the door into place, they heard the intruder come out of the
woods into the clearing. Then they were in the darkest dark Frannie could ever
remember.

They both
stood stock still, barely breathing, and heard the screech of the cabin door,
clomping footsteps on the wood floor, and the door opening again. In spite of
the heavy door, they thought they could hear footsteps passing outside. Then it
was quiet. Frannie listened so hard it made her head hurt. As they stood, she
became aware of cobwebs hanging off the wood reinforcement of the ceiling. And
the possible other inhabitants of this little hidey-hole. Crawling things.
Flying things. Frannie feared bats more than almost anything else. Except the
guy outside…

Donna
whispered in the dark, “I am so sorry. I even had fresh sweet corn as my
surprise for supper.” Her voice caught in a little sob.

Frannie
smiled. Amazing what we worry about at times like this. “They won’t eat it
without us.”

“It’s not
that…oh, I don’t know what it is but it just makes me sad.”

The silence
returned. They strained to hear anything outside. Frannie shifted her weight
and consciously unlocked her knees.

“Do you
want sit down?” Donna asked.

“No! I
mean, no—I’m fine.”

“Neither of
us is fine.”

Good point,
Frannie thought. She pushed the glow button on her watch. 5:30. What time had
they left the campsite? She didn’t know and asked Donna if she remembered.

“Maybe
4:00? Or 4:30? Why, is it important?”

“I’m sure
Larry would start looking for us as soon as we were gone half an hour.”

“Rob too.”

“It’s 5:30
now.”

They stood
listening again. To silence. Frannie felt a stiffness creep in and shifted a
little again. Donna did the same. After many minutes, Donna whispered, “Could
you tell who it was?”

“Not by
sight, but I think it may be the mortician’s assistant—Joel Marner.”

“But why?
Do you think he’s into drugs?”

“No. I’ve
thought about it since we talked about motive earlier. This is just a guess,
but it was something you said yesterday.”

“Me?”

“I said he
gave me the creeps because he smirked about Maeve Schlumm’s wish to be cremated
and you said maybe he was a body snatcher.”

“I was
joking. Body snatchers would be upset about cremations.”

“Not if
they are stealing body parts. They usually do that when cremations are planned
and they don’t have to worry about open caskets. I saw a report on the news
several months ago. I think Randy was a courier to deliver body parts that
Marner had removed from bodies that were due to be cremated.”

“That’s
kind of a stretch.”

“It would
be, but remember the address list Sanchez found.”

“The tissue
service.”

“Exactly.
It all fits. I think that’s what Marner keeps coming back for—anything
Randy might have written down about the delivery.”

“But then,
why was Randy killed?”

“Haven’t
figured that out—falling out among thieves?”

A sudden
crunch above their heads and blinding light as the door was wrenched open made
them jump and squeeze their eyes shut at the same time.

“Ladies. I
know you’re camping but aren’t these accommodations a little too rustic?” The
black hood shrouded most of the face but the marble blue eyes identified Joel
Marner and the gun in his hand belied his friendly greeting. Somehow, Frannie
didn’t feel any better about being right on his identity. “Out.” He used the
gun as a traffic cop wielded a nightstick and seemed bigger than life, both by
virtue of his much greater height and being poised several steps above them.

Frannie
pushed Donna lightly in the back to go up first and held the broken iron poker
down alongside her leg with her left hand. Donna hesitated and looked at her
uncertainly but when Frannie nodded, climbed the few steps. Marner motioned
Donna to his side and Frannie to come up. When she did, he couldn’t watch both
women at once and Frannie knew this was possibly her only opportunity to use
the poker. But—and it was a big ‘but’—, he could get off a shot or
the gun could fire accidentally or if she didn’t put him totally out of
commission, he could retaliate. These possibilities went through her head in a
split second, but caused her to hesitate too long.

“What’s in
your hand?” he demanded and at the same time out of the corner of his eye saw
Donna start to edge away. He swung the gun toward Donna without taking his eyes
off Frannie.

“Drop it,
or she’s dead. I have nothing to lose.”

Frannie
dropped the poker on the dirt floor of the cellar and climbed the steps to
stand beside Donna. He motioned them to move out of the clearing along the base
of the hill in the direction they had originally seen him coming from. As they
reached the woods, so did the sound of distant yelling. Hope surged in each of
the women as they heard their names being called.

“One peep
and you’re both dead. Like I said, at this point, I have nothing to lose. Now
keep walking, straight ahead!” He nudged Frannie in the back with the gun
barrel.

She
couldn’t help but think: One peep? I’m in an old movie! But the voices were
getting nearer and though she couldn’t see anyone yet, she was sure Marner
could not get them out of the park before the rescuers reached them. Would he
start shooting if he was cornered? Or use them as hostages? She didn’t know
what to hope for.

Those
thoughts fizzled like a burning match tossed in a pond when Marner ordered them
to stop. As they had moved along the hill, it had morphed into another bluff.
They stopped near a group of shrubs, and Marner said, “Get behind there.”
Frannie’s brain scoffed at his futility until she realized the shrubs hid a
small cave opening.

They had to
stoop slightly to get in and then were able to stand once they entered. Marner,
behind them, switched on a flashlight to illuminate the way. The cave was narrow
but continued back into the bluff. The flashlight projected their shadows onto
the cave walls in grotesque shapes. Frannie’s hopes of rescue crashed and
burned. Someone connected with the park service would be aware of this cave but
not most of the rescuers. It could be hours before anyone would get around to
searching here.

The cave
was deeper than she expected. They had to climb over boulders and crouch down
in places but it kept going, and she sensed in an upward direction. She was
aware of fluttering above her head at times and moving shapes off to the sides.
She knew what they were and the hollow of cold fear in the pit of her stomach
grew until she felt she couldn’t contain it. But they stumbled ahead, hands cut
and bruised, knees screaming in protest. Her doctor had told her after a bone
density test to be sure and stay active. Was this what he had in mind?

She tried
to think positively. He hadn’t killed them yet; she was sure he feared shots
would pinpoint their location to the searchers. They outnumbered him, although
the gun gave him an advantage she didn’t want to think about. He hadn’t tied
them up, although he probably hadn’t come prepared for that and besides, they
never would have gotten through this cave if they had been restricted in any
way. And lots and lots of people were looking for them. She wished she could
convey these thoughts to Donna; she could hear her whimpering softly ahead.

They
rounded a corner and got a glimpse of light up ahead. This was not just a cave;
it was a natural tunnel through the bluff. Apparently, the light spurred Donna
on because she moved faster. When they reached the opening, Marner said, “Stand
right where I can see you.” Donna did and Frannie stood beside her when she emerged.
The soft evening light gilding the trees created a scene worthy of the finest
pastoral painters. Frannie thought of all the similar evenings she had spent
with friends and family at a picnic table, on their deck at home or around a
campfire, not a care in the world.

Marner was
right behind them and motioned them toward a gray delivery van parked a few
feet away on a narrow dirt lane. The lane connected at right angles with a
gravel road. He opened the back cargo doors and said, “Get in. Sit down on the
floor, one of you on each side, facing the wall.” They did as ordered, climbing
in with some effort. The van was mostly empty except for a toolbox on one side
near the back and some shelves along Frannie’s side.

Marner slid
the toolbox over and opened it with one hand, keeping the gun trained on them
with the other. He rummaged through it and pulled out a roll of duct tape. So
much for point three of her positive thinking.

Duct tape
being duct tape, Frannie wondered how he was going to do anything with it and
still keep the gun on them. She could feel the iron hook from the fireplace
poker pressing against her leg.

Her
question was answered when he said to Donna, “You! Get over here.”

Donna got
gingerly to her feet and moved toward him.

“Pull a
piece of this tape out.”

She took
the tape and after fumbling to get the cut edge free, pulled about two feet out
from the roll.

“Hold it
up.” He took a utility knife out of the toolbox and used his thumb to extend
the blade. “Hold that tape still.” Donna’s hands were shaking at both ends of
the tape and with effort she managed to steady them. Marner cut the piece of
tape off the roll.

“Now, wrap
that around your buddy’s wrists.” To Frannie, he directed, “Put your wrists
behind you—quick!” He kept taking glances around the side of the truck at
the road. Donna did as she was told, trying to keep the tape somewhat loose but
Marner barked, “Tighter!” When she finished, he told her to come back and get
another piece of tape. He then climbed up in the truck, instructed Donna to sit
facing the other side, stuck the gun in his pocket and taped Donna’s wrists
tight enough that she squealed. He checked the tape on Frannie’s wrists and
satisfied, pulled a couple of rags out of a bin on the shelf. He wadded them up
and stuffed one in each of the women’s mouths.

The rags
were clean but had the scent of being used for something oily in the past.
Frannie realized why they were called ‘gags’ and concentrated on breathing
through her nose.

Marner
said, “Okay, girls, we’re going for a little ride and what happens to you
depends on how you behave. We’ll be making one quick stop first. Got it?” He
laughed and jumped out of the truck and slammed and locked the cargo doors.
Soon they heard the truck start and it bounced along the rutted dirt road to
the gravel. Both women fell over sideways at the first jolt. Frannie tried to
ignore the jolts to her body by considering the possibilities. She could use
her feet to rotate around to face Donna and somehow they could help each other.
But if they stopped soon and Marner checked on them—which of course he
would—he would bind them more securely and lessen their chances of
getting free. Best to hold off. Above all else, she was sure he would not leave
them alive.

********************

Happy
Camper Tip #14

I collect
those touristy embroidered patches wherever I can find them. We have a cheap
fleece blanket in the trailer that I sew them on as a memento of our camping
experiences. It's better than bumper stickers because it can keep you warm on a
chilly night by the campfire.

Sunday Evening

The ride
did not improve. Lying on her right side, Frannie felt like that hip was being
pounded with a ball bat. She had to constantly remember to breathe through her
nose or she would choke. It didn’t help that a very fine gravel dust found its
way into the cargo area and filled her nostrils. They were separated from the
driver’s area by a bulkhead with a mesh screen at the top but, because of the
angle, couldn’t see Marner. After five or ten minutes, they bumped onto a
smoother road and the bouncing lessened as well as the dust. A few minutes more
and they came to an abrupt halt, sliding the women forward. The driver’s door
slammed and one of the cargo doors opened. Marner climbed in. Through the partially
open door it was quite dark, which puzzled Frannie because she was pretty sure
it wasn’t later than 7:00.

He bent
over each of them and checked their wrists and gags. “Back in a minute!” he
said cheerfully and hopped back out, closing and locking the door behind him.

Frannie let
a few quiet seconds go by and then used her feet to spin around a half turn.
Scooting along the floor, she hoped she was getting closer to Donna. Frannie
‘mmprhed’ through her gag and listened for any response. She sensed that she
was close and finally her head collided with Donna’s back.

At first
Donna didn’t understand what Frannie was trying to do but then she realized her
hands were touching the gag in Frannie’s mouth. She grasped the gag with two
fingers and tried to pull. However, she had no flexibility in her arms in her
bound position so Frannie edged backward. Donna hung on and gradually the
disgusting cloth emerged from Frannie’s mouth.

The dryness
in her mouth was almost debilitating but she managed to spit out, “I’m going to
try and get my wrists loose. You taped over my watch, so that should help.”
Which turned out to be the case. She could move her old, cheap expansion band
up and down slightly, adding a little give to the tape. Wiggling and squirming,
she was able to get her left hand out. No time to enjoy the relief in her
shoulders and arms, she left the tape on her right wrist and pulled her watch
out of the hanging loop of tape.

Enough
ambient light came through the mesh top of the bulkhead and her eyes had adjusted
enough that she could see Donna curled in the fetal position at her feet. She
leaned over first and removed the gag. Donna gasped and coughed while Frannie
went to work on her wrist restraints. Marner had been more thorough on that
task than Donna had been on Frannie and the removal took a little longer.

“What if he
comes back before you’re done?” Donna asked. The panic was apparent in her
voice.

“Donna, we
have to face that he is going to kill us. He can’t leave us alive. The only
reason he hasn’t is that it would draw attention to him, so we’re still
somewhere where that’s likely. I think we’re in town. So we have nothing to
lose.” She helped Donna to her feet.

“But now
what? We’re locked in here.”

Frannie
pulled the poker hook out of her cargo pocket. She could see that the bulkhead
was fastened to the roof of the van with straps and bolts. A door in the center
of the bulkhead gave access to the front of the van but it was locked. She
hooked the end of the poker through the mesh and tried to use it as a lever.
Someone should have paid closer attention in high school physics.

She managed
a little leverage but the ancient wrought iron was brittle. Donna searched the
mostly empty shelves on one side of the cargo area and said, “Aha!” Frannie
turned around and saw Donna holding up a screwdriver. Between the two tools,
they were able to pry the door open at the lock. They scrambled through the
door, over the seat and out the driver’s side door.

Frannie
looked around. They were in a three-stall, high-ceilinged garage, softly lit by
a security light near an interior door. At first, she thought it might be an
apartment complex, but then she noticed the vehicle in the far stall was a
hearse.

“We’re in
the funeral home garage,” she told Donna. “Automatic door opener,” she said
looking up. Then she looked in the driver’s side of the van. “Jerkface, of
course, took the remote with him, but there should be a wall button near the
entry door.” They ran around the front of the van to the door leading into the
home. There was no button on either side of the door—just light switches.

Donna
pointed up to the opener. “There’s the rope that’s a manual override…” They
both realized at the same time that only a short fragment remained and the end
was too high to reach.

“Unless you
want to stand on my shoulders, I think we’re out of luck there. The button must
be inside. I’m going in.”

“Not
alone,” Donna said.

Frannie put
her ear against the door, but heard nothing. She tried the knob. Not locked, so
she slowly turned it, pulling the door open just a crack. It appeared to open
on to a long darkened hallway. A heavy chemical smell hung in the air. She
peeked around the corner and saw another long hallway at right angles to the
first one. She didn’t immediately see a control for the garage door, but at the
end of that hall, was the beckoning promise of a red exit sign.

She didn’t
hear anything so motioned Donna to follow her. They both held their breath as
they crept along the hall toward freedom. Diffused light was coming from a doorway
about halfway along on the left. Frannie assumed it was another security light.
When they reached the corner, she took a quick look around it to
verify—and she was wrong. It took a moment to take in the scene before
she let out an involuntary gasp.

The door
opened on another short corridor. Through the door, she could see a second open
door and, by an angled view into a brightly lit room, a table on which she
could just make out the pale face of Maeve Schlumm and blocking the rest of
Maeve’s body, the back of Joel Marner. On the floor at Marner’s feet was an
ancient green cooler that appeared to be filled with bones.

At her
gasp, Marner spun around, a scalpel in his hand, and yelled “Hey!” Frannie
turned and pushing Donna ahead of her back toward the garage, said, “Run!”
Donna reached the juncture of the two hallways and dodged to the left rather
than through the garage door as Frannie expected but probably a better choice.
Too late she realized that they should have run toward the exit sign. Marner thundered
behind them swearing and yelling. Donna opened the first door she came to and
they ducked into a small room that was used to store sound equipment and extra
chairs. Frannie slammed the door and pulled a chair over under the knob.

Donna had
continued through another door into a chapel-like room, knocking over folding
chairs as she went. Frannie followed her as Marner pounded on the door behind
them, but pulled up short when the loop of tape still hanging on her right
wrist caught on the door handle. As she struggled to free herself, she hissed
to Donna, “If you can’t find a door out, break a window!”

By the time
she was loose, Marner had quit pounding on the door and his footsteps receded
down the hallway. He must be circling, having the advantage of knowing his way
around. The chapel room was divided from another large room with an accordion
wall. Donna had ducked around the open end of it and Frannie followed.

Every room
had the eerie glow of security lights and was heavy with the scent of funeral flowers.
Another accordion partition created a third room. This one had a large heavy
casket on a mobile stand at the front surrounded by huge baskets and vases of
floral arrangements and lit from above by a subtle can light. Donna knocked
over a vase as she tried to get around to a door on the other side. She righted
herself but Frannie slipped in the puddle and went down hard.

As Frannie
struggled to her feet, she heard a door open at the other end of the room and
knew Marner was trying to head them off. She dodged back around the accordion
wall to the middle room and searched for a hiding place or a way out.
 
A miniature jungle of potted palms
backed a podium and she could see light coming from behind them. A small angled
corridor led to a wider hall.

She turned
right and raced into an office reception area. Again she pushed the door closed
and braced a chair under the knob. A light glowing on the desk caught her
eye—a phone. She had just punched in 911 just as Marner started pounding
on the door. She dropped the receiver on the desk and ducked out another door,
hearing the phone squawk “Hello? Hello? Is this an emergency?” Well, maybe.
Another short passageway took her back to the hall where they first had tried
to make their escape. Marner now shook the office door and she had come full
circle.

She knew
the door to her right—the storage room—was blocked. Ahead, at the
end of the hall was the door to the garage but that too was a dead end. She
opened the door to the left and found herself in a room full of caskets. There
were no windows but a small security light above the door. She closed the door
quietly but there was nothing she could move to block it.

She had no
choice. She had to hide in a casket. She chose one in the middle, thinking
Marner would look first in the ones nearest the door and then think that she
would have gone clear to the back. She hoped. They were all arranged with a
closed casket on the bottom of a special stand and one with the half lid open
on the top. The bottom ones could not be opened without pulling them out, so
she would need to hide in the bottom half of a top one.

She used
the bottom casket to climb up and into the one she had chosen as a hiding place
and curled up under the bottom half of the lid. For once, she was grateful that
she didn’t have to deal with Jane Ann’s height. There was a satin blanket which
she tried to arrange to block the inside view, willing herself not to think
about where she was. It was better than a root cellar with snakes and spiders.
Or a cave with bats. Right.

Her heart
pounded so loud that she was sure it could be heard all over the building. At
which point she realized that she hadn’t heard any outside doors opening or
glass breaking or alarms that would indicate Donna had escaped. But Marner had
followed Frannie—she remembered him pounding on the office door—so
Donna should have been able to get away.

Her
breathing was just getting back to normal when she heard the door open. She
froze, hoping in a little part of her soul that it was Donna, even though that
would mean that she hadn’t escaped. But no one said anything and Donna surely
would have called her name.

She could
hear footsteps slowly circling the room, stopping as he checked each casket.
Her hope collapsed that he would first check the ones farthest from the door.
If Donna was getting help, every extra minute before discovery could be
crucial.

He was
getting nearer and she could hear him opening each bottom lid. Finally, she was
sure he was at the one next to her hiding place and she froze with fear
straining to hear any sounds of sirens or rescue. Nothing.

He lifted
the bottom lid of her casket. She lay curled facing down so she couldn’t see
him and couldn’t make herself look.

“Well,
well. One of my little runners.” He grabbed her arm and yanked her to sitting.
“Where’s your buddy?”

“She got
away. She’s getting the police,” Frannie croaked.

“Right.
We’ll see about that. Get out of there!” He jerked her up and out, her foot
catching and giving a painful twist to her knee. With a firm grip on her arm,
he hauled her around the room, quickly lifting the other lids and slamming them
shut.

“Why are
you doing this?” Frannie tried to reason. “They’ll know who you are without us.
Why don’t you just try to get away? I’m telling you, Donna got out of the
building! We split up back there in that chapel.”

He finished
checking the last caskets in the room. “Your little detective antics
interrupted my supply. We are leaving and you are going to help me replace some
of that supply.” He reached the door and pulled her through it. Frannie
remembered the cooler full of bones and saw his plan. He dragged her down the
hall and around the corner to the prep room where he had been about to work on
Maeve Schlumm’s body. Frannie struggled and dragged her feet to at least slow
him down but he clamped down on her arm and jerked her upright. That he had not
had time to mutilate Maeve’s body was a small consolation, but she also
realized who would pay the price for that.

She was
exhausted from the ordeal, aching with the sharp pain in her knee, and could
not continue to fight back. He closed the cooler of bones, grabbed his gun off
the counter, and let go of her arm, using the gun to motion her out the door
ahead of him.

“The
garage—hurry up about it,” he said, jabbing her in the back with the gun.
“Open the door.” She did as she was told and went down the three steps into the
garage. When they got around the van, he looked at the open door and the
mangled bulkhead. He glanced at her with almost a hint of admiration, but then
pushed her up into the driver’s seat and back through the busted door. With one
hand he wrenched the door closed, jamming it worse than the padlock had, laid
the gun on the passenger seat, and started the van. He reached in his left
pants pocket and pulled out the door remote, hitting the button, and throwing
the remote on the dashboard. The oversized door glided up.