Trapped (A Jenny Watkins Mystery Book 5) Read online

  Returning to the matter at hand, Jenny focused on Michelle’s glossy eyes in the picture, wondering what they were seeing at that very moment. Was she in that horrible soundproof room? Was she looking at the depraved man who kept women as his possessions? Strangely, that would have actually been good news; at least she would have still been alive. The alternative was that Michelle’s eyes could see nothing at all. Jenny shuddered at the thought.

  Her phone rang, interrupting the silence and breaking her train of thought. Jenny immediately answered when she saw it was Roddan calling. “Hello?”

  “Hi Jenny. I got your picture, and I can tell you that one of two things is happening.”

  Her hands trembled as she waited for the news.

  “Either I’m losing my knack,” Roddan explained, “or else this woman is still very much alive.”

  “He didn’t get a reading,” Jenny said excitedly to Howell.

  “No?” He sounded relieved.

  “No. So there may still be time.”

  “Excellent,” Howell replied. “So is there any chance you can head up to Richmond to see if you can offer any insight?”

  “I could,” Jenny said apologetically, “but I don’t think there would be a point. If she’s still alive, I won’t get any information from her. I can only receive messages if she’s gone.”

  “Shit,” he whispered under his breath.

  “I know. It’s frustrating,” Jenny agreed. “I can only help solve murders after they’ve occurred; I can’t really prevent them.”

  Howell’s tone remained polite despite his obvious dissatisfaction. “Alright, well, if you get anything let me know.”

  “You’ll be the first person I’ll call,” Jenny assured him.

  “I just feel so helpless,” Jenny confessed to Zack as they sat at a table in the lobby. She busied herself with the sketch of the memorial, but Michelle’s apparent kidnapping nagged at the back of her mind. “It almost makes me wish I was a cop. At least then I could be investigating. As it stands the only thing I can do is sit here and wait.”

  “You suck at waiting.”

  “I know,” Jenny said emphatically, unoffended by the remark.

  “At least your drawing looks good,” Zack noted.

  “You think?” Jenny spun the image around so he could see it from the proper angle.

  Zack raised his eyebrows and nodded genuinely. “It looks great, actually. Very tasteful.”

  With a sigh she repositioned the picture so it faced her. “Thanks. I guess I should be grateful that I get to accomplish something today. If Jessica gives her approval on this, maybe we can go out and find someone who can actually build it. Who would that be, a stone mason?”

  Zack looked at Jenny with a smile. “Not exactly. We’d probably need a sculptor.”

  “And where, exactly, do you find one of those?”

  “Around here? I don’t know,” Zack confessed, “but back in Georgia there was a guy we used to work with who did good work. A lot of our clients for Larrabee Homes wanted statues either in their mulch beds or flanking their driveways.”

  Jenny smirked. “Flanking their driveways? You mean like lions?”

  “Yes,” he replied matter-of-factly, “like lions.”

  She continued to sketch as she giggled. “That’s a bit over-the-top, don’t you think?”

  “Well, most of the houses we built were over-the-top.”

  “So,” Jenny said, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand, “are you suggesting we use the guy from Georgia to build our monument?”

  “No, but I’m suggesting I could probably find somebody similar in the area who could do it.” He frowned. “Although, probably not the immediate area. It’s not exactly a popular trade.”

  A gust of wind flew through the lobby, and with it a distinct but fleeting image popped into Jenny’s head.

  Zack looked at her intently. “What was that about?”

  “That,” she replied flatly, “was my invitation to go out and talk to the archaeologist.”

  Jenny didn’t elaborate as she headed out into the back yard with Zack following. She approached the area that had been cordoned off by the crime scene tape, finding nothing more than a lone police officer who remained on duty. “Excuse me,” she said rather curtly, “do you have any idea when the archaeologist will be here?”

  The man shrugged nonchalantly. “It shouldn’t be too long. They said they were on their way, and that was twenty minutes ago.”

  “Okay, thank you.” Jenny began to look around the property.

  “Do you mind telling me what this is about?” Zack asked impatiently.

  “It’s about more bodies,” she replied as she closed her eyes, trying to equate the scene from her vision to the current landscaping. Determining she needed to walk further out in the property, she continued along.

  Zack’s strides were long so he could keep up with her. “More bodies?”

  “Yes. Or maybe just one.” Jenny closed her eyes again for a moment, only to open them and point into the trees. “Over there.”

  “Okay, seriously, slow down,” Zack demanded.

  Jenny stopped walking and looked at him.

  “Can you please tell me what you’re talking about?”

  Hanging her head with a smile, Jenny acknowledged she hadn’t been acting fair. She sighed deeply and announced, “I saw what looked like a slave burial, somewhere out in that direction. It appeared they were only burying one body, but that’s not to say there weren’t others before or after that. There may be a whole graveyard full of remains in those trees.”

  “Dear God,” Zack whispered as he gazed in that direction.

  She began walking again. “I want to get back there before I forget where I’m supposed to look.”

  “You’re not being pulled?” he asked.

  Jenny shook her head. “No, not this time. I’m just relying on memory, based off a very short image. Funny thing…this method is a lot less trustworthy.” She walked to the tree line and pointed in. “It’s a good ways in there.” With a strength-gathering breath she began the journey into the brush; Zack followed closely behind.

  Periodically she would close her eyes and try to recreate the scene in her mind; after a while she stood still and proclaimed, “I think this is about where it was.” She shrugged and added, “It’s so hard to tell, though. It looks a lot different now than it used to.”

  “I think I’m confused,” Zack confessed. “You’re not being pulled, but you just saw a visual when the wind blew? From what angle?”

  “From near the house. I don’t think this is a slave communicating with me; I think it’s still Samuel. He appeared to be watching the burial ceremony from a distance. If it had been a slave delivering me the message, I would think it would have come from the viewpoint of the ceremony.”

  “Yeah, I would have to agree with that,” Zack said as he contemplated. “So, Samuel is telling you where there are buried slaves? I wonder why he’s doing that.”

  More sadness—which may or may not have been pregnancy-related—washed over Jenny. Blinking to prevent tears from forming, she softly replied, “Compassion…empathy.” She looked at Zack as she lost her battle to avoid tears. “Gratitude.” She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. “Samuel, of all people, knows what it’s like to be out here, forgotten, for over a hundred years. I guess he doesn’t want the slaves to go undiscovered, either. He wants them to be found as well.”

  Either oblivious to Jenny’s tears or choosing to ignore them, Zack noted, “I just wonder why the slave himself—or herself—isn’t directing you out here. I would think they’d want to be found just as much as Samuel does.”

  Jenny shook her head. “I have a theory about that, but I don’t want to say it out loud until I talk to Roy, just in case I’m wrong.”

  Although Zack looked at her funny, he said nothing.

  Some commotion from the crime scene area caused Zack and Jenny to focus their attention
in that direction. A man who appeared to be the archaeologist had arrived on scene, carrying a tool kit. “Perfect,” Jenny said as her sadness dissipated. “I want to go and talk to him.”

  “I can stay here if you want,” Zack proposed. “That way we won’t lose the location.”

  Jenny smiled at him. “You’re a doll, you know that?” She took a moment to determine her best approach to leaving this overgrown area and heading to the other one. She could have either walked through the overgrown woods directly to the other spot, or else she could have schlepped her way back out of the trees, only to re-enter them later on. “The shortest path between two points is a straight line,” she muttered under her breath. Although she was less than thrilled about the trek, she began making her way through the thick brush to the archaeologist.

  The man looked at her strangely as she approached; she realized she must have appeared to be an insane woman wandering through the woods. She didn’t let that notion faze her. “Hello,” she said from a short distance. “You must be the archaeologist.”

  “Yes,” he replied, “and you are…”

  She finally reached the crime scene tape. “Jenny Watkins. I was the one to find the remains.”

  “Well, that was a good find.” His older features had a kindness to them which shone through his curious look and curt question. “Are you looking for more?”

  “Yes, actually, I am…and I think I may have found some.”

  He looked at her incredulously.

  “I’m a psychic,” Jenny explained, “and I was led to this boy’s remains.” She pointed to Samuel’s half-exposed body. “I’ve also been advised about an area over there, although it’s not as clearly defined. I can’t help but think that at least one more person is buried over there.”

  “Advised?”

  Jenny decided this was clearly going to be a hard sell. “I get visions,” she explained, still a little out of breath from climbing through the woods. “And I saw a distinct image of a slave burial happening in that area.”

  He still looked unimpressed.

  After letting out a frustrated exhale, she continued, “I was hired by the owner of this inn to investigate some strange occurrences that have been going on here. I think what’s happening is that some people have been buried on the property and forgotten about. They want a better final resting place.” She pointed to Samuel’s body. “Or at least this boy does.”

  The archaeologist remained pleasant-looking as he said, “Lady, I’ve heard a lot of interesting stories over the years, but this one takes the cake.”

  “Well, there’s got to be an element of truth to it, no?” She smiled knowingly. “I found his body, didn’t I?”

  Jenny imagined he was having a mental debate as he remained quiet. “Yes, I guess you did,” he eventually said. “So, do you think this whole area is an unmarked grave yard?”

  “Not necessarily the whole area, although I can’t say for sure. I do think there’s a body over there where my friend is standing.” She pointed through the trees as Zack.

  The archaeologist reached into his tool kit and handed Jenny a bright orange rag. “Here. Tie this around the tree closest to where you think the body is located. That way your friend doesn’t have to keep standing out there. I’ll go over and take a look when I’m done with this scene.”

  Jenny took the rag and smiled. “Thank you, sir…although I do have to admit it would be more fun if he had to just stand there.”

  “I just got Jessica’s blessing,” Jenny told Zack as she walked into the Statesman room. “She seemed to love the monument.”

  “No surprise there,” Zack replied as he typed on his computer. “I told you it was great.”

  Jenny blushed modestly.

  “I was also able to find a guy online who could potentially build it.” He pulled out his phone and noted the time. “It’s far, but if we leave now we have time to make it there before he closes.”

  With a shrug Jenny said, “We might as well.”

  Before long the couple was in the car, sketch in hand. Zack had typed the directions into his phone; the path took them across the highway to the eastern side, an area they had never driven before. About twenty minutes after passing the truck stops, Jenny felt a sudden urge to bring the car down a side road.

  Zack remained quiet as they took their unforeseen detour. Jenny’s pulse raced, which would ordinarily have threatened her ability to receive the message, but fortunately for her the pull was strong. Jenny felt an overwhelming sense of fear, the source of which was calling her closer.

  She eventually stopped the car in front of a white house on a wooded lot. The stone driveway was long and curved through the trees, but Jenny was able to make out a lone vehicle sitting up by the garage.

  A small blue passenger car.

  “Holy shit,” Zack proclaimed. “Could that be the car Ingunn was talking about?”

  “I’m thinking it is,” Jenny replied. Parked along the side of a narrow, windy road, she glanced in her rearview mirror to make sure nobody was coming. She put on her hazard lights.

  “So what do we do?” Zack asked.

  Jenny inspected the property for signs of life before pulling into the end of his driveway.

  “What are you doing?” Zack seemed both confused and angry.

  “Checking something.” Jenny left her car running as she scurried up the driveway and inspected the car more closely. With the same speed she rushed back and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” Zack said as soon she closed the door.

  “Sorry. I just had to verify something.”

  “You could have sent me to do it. Dark-haired women are his favorite targets, remember?”

  “I know,” she said quickly, backing out of the driveway and returning the way they had come. “It wasn’t the smartest thing in the world, but I did get some information.”

  Zack shook his head. “What did you get?”

  “See for yourself,” Jenny said, handing him her phone. She had snapped a picture of the back of the car, which was complete with an orange T decal and a license plate that read TENICVOLS. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s a customized plate.”

  “It sure is,” he confirmed.

  Jenny’s nerves began to subside the further away they drove. “I understand the Tennessee part,” she began, “but what’s the VOLS?”

  “It’s their team name,” Zack said as he forwarded the picture on to Howell.

  Jenny furrowed her brow, contemplating what a bizarre name that was for a team. Dismissing that quickly, she said, “Can you call Howell and let him know we may have just found our man?”

  “One step ahead of you. I’m texting him the picture now, and I’ll call him in just a second.”

  A thought occurred to Jenny. “Shit,” she proclaimed. “I didn’t look at the address. I have no idea where that house was.”

  “Well, that’s what your partner is for.” He spoke slowly; his focus was on sending the text.

  “Oh my God, you did that?”

  “Well, I was paying attention to the street signs as we went there. Then while you were risking your life looking at that car, I was watching the front door to make sure he didn’t come out. The house number was right next to the door.”

  At that point Zack dialed the phone and put it on speaker. Jenny could hear it ring. The officer answered with a very gruff, “Howell.”

  “Officer Howell,” Jenny said excitedly. “I think we may have found the Highway Killer.”

  “What do you mean you may have found the Highway Killer?”

  “I got pulled to a house where there was a blue car with an orange T sticker on it and customized plates. We just sent you the picture.”

  “Holy shit,” Howell muttered. “You say this car was at a house?”

  “Yes,” Zack replied, “5402 Forest View Lane.”

  “The house was absolutely brimming with fear,” Jenny said. “I can’t help but think
it has to be involved somehow.”

  Howell remained quiet for a moment, presumably as he wrote that information down. “Okay, well, I’ll get on this right away. I’ll let you know if anything comes of it.”

  “Thanks,” Jenny said with a great deal of satisfaction. Zack concluded the call as Jenny let out a deep breath of relief. “Now that the official business has been taken care of, can I just tell you how scary that was?”

  “What,” Zack retorted, “you mean watching your girlfriend approach the house of a kidnapper and murderer?”

  While Jenny didn’t appreciate the dig, deep down inside she knew she deserved it. “No, I mean the feeling I had back there. There’s some pretty serious fear surrounding that place.”

  “All the more reason you should have stayed away from it.”

  “Well, now I can. Hopefully the police will be able to find what they need and this case will be over.”

  After a short silence Zack posed, “Wow. Wouldn’t it be amazing if it was really that simple?”

  Jenny smiled. “It would absolutely be amazing.” She felt herself beaming with pride.

  “Although,” Zack added, “you do realize we just jinxed it by saying that.”

  Chapter 19

  Jessica and Ingunn both joined Zack and Jenny for their late dinner. “The sculptor’s name was Stuart Brisbane,” Jenny explained, “and he does amazing work. You should have seen some of the sculptures he had on his property.”

  Zack grunted in affirmation as he swallowed his food. “It was impressive.”

  “Anyway,” Jenny went on, “he said he’d be able to make the monument, although it may take a while. He’s got a waiting list.”

  “That’s fine,” Jessica assured her. “I’ve got time.”

  “I also asked if he could make little monuments for Samuel and the slave buried in the back—provided there is one—and he said he could.”