Disappearance at Hangman's Bluff (21 page)

BOOK: Disappearance at Hangman's Bluff
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Judge Gator shrugged. “They're not very bright. They probably figured they'd go back to prison for desecrating the graves.”

“Even so, they wouldn't have gotten more than a few months. You think those stakes are high enough to commit murder?”

Grandma Em nodded. “For Lenny I think they were. I'm not so sure about Possum.”

Judge Gator scowled. “I agree with you, Em. If I were still on the bench and the jury found that bum guilty, I'd want to put Lenny in a cell and weld the door shut.”

I had been slumped in my chair, only halfway listening. Even so, something had been bothering me, but I hadn't been able to put my finger on it. But what the judge said sent a charge through my body. I sat up, and my tiredness fell away.


Weld
the door shut,” I repeated. I was suddenly picturing the two dirt piles and the hollowed-out places where we had hidden when we were trying to get away from Possum and Leaper. I looked over at Bee, who just a few seconds earlier had been about to fall asleep like me but who suddenly looked wide-awake.

“You remember that mask I threw?” I asked, even though I could tell she was thinking the exact same thing as me.

Bee nodded. “I was too scared to focus on it when we were hiding, but now I'm remembering that stuff we saw.”

“Those tanks?”

Bee turned to Daddy. “What kind of gas was on that truck that got stolen?”

Daddy's brow wrinkled like he wasn't sure why she was asking, but he said, “It's called acetylene. It's used for welding.”

“Remember all those hunks of metal on the ground in the second place we hid?” Bee said to me.

“Yeah.”

“Can't a person use a welding torch to cut metal?”

“Yes,” Daddy said.

“They weren't going to kill us because of the graves,” Bee said, and we both jumped to our feet.

I remembered what Possum had said.
They been lookin' around
. At the time I'd thought he'd been talking about the bones, but I'd been wrong.

“We need to go to Hangman's Bluff,” I said.

“That's ridiculous,” Grandma Em said in a no-nonsense voice. “It's dark outside, and everyone is exhausted.”

“No,” Bee shot back. “Abbey's right. We need to go there, and we need to go right now!”

“What are you girls talking about?” Judge Gator demanded.

We don't have time to explain,” I told him. “But call the police. We really need to hurry.”

Twenty-two

W
e piled into Daddy's Suburban
and headed toward Hangman's Bluff. Bee and I both refused to explain what we thought we'd find, because we were both afraid that nobody would believe us.

Judge Gator followed in his own car, but first he put in calls to Cyrus Middleton and the state police, explaining where we were going and asking them to meet us there.

When we took the turn toward Hangman's Bluff, Daddy had to go slow because of the huge puddles that had turned the dirt road to soup and the downed branches that nearly blocked our way in a few places.

Daddy's headlights lit up the road ahead, and there was what looked like a fresh set of tire tracks in the soft dirt. When we reached the end of the road, we found that the chain from the gate had been unlocked and left in the dirt.

“You think Cyrus could have gotten here ahead of us?” Daddy asked.

“Doesn't seem likely,” Grandma Em said.

“I agree,” Daddy said. He shut off his lights, and we crept forward using the soft glow of the moon to see our way. When we got up near the construction shed, I spotted the outline of a car up ahead, and Daddy stopped and turned off the Suburban's engine. We had the windows down, and in the sudden silence we could hear the growl of a bulldozer's engine.

Daddy said to be as quiet as if we were turkey hunting, meaning that instead of slamming doors, we pushed them until they touched the locks, then gave them a final harder nudge to click them closed.

As we were getting ready to check things out another darkened car came snaking toward us and Judge Gator climbed out. “Cyrus is on his way,” he said. “So are the state police.”

Daddy, Judge Gator, and Grandma Em led the way as we walked toward the sound of the bulldozer. When we were about fifty yards away, Daddy held up his hand as a sign for us to stop, and we watched as the bulldozer shoved a bunch of dirt to close up one of the openings where Bee and I had hidden earlier that day.

It took only a couple minutes for the bulldozer operator to finish, and then he backed up the dozer and shut off the engine.

The silence fell in around us, the night being much quieter than normal since the frogs and crickets weren't singing the way they would have been if there hadn't been a storm.

The man started walking toward us, but he came to a sudden stop when he saw us standing there in the moonlight.

“Evening, Mr. LaBelle,” Judge Gator said in a calm voice.

“Wha—? Judge DeSaussure? What are you doing out here?”

“I might ask you the same question.”

“Who have you got with you? Why are you on my land? You're trespassing, you know.”

“I've got Rutledge Force and Emma Force and the two girls. They apparently saw something earlier today that they didn't understand at the time, but it makes sense to them now.”

I saw Mr. LaBelle's right hand drift down to his pants pocket, and I suddenly wondered if he had a gun in there. I was about to shout something to Daddy, but then I heard the unmistakable click of the judge's shotgun as he closed the chamber. In the dark I hadn't even noticed that he had it with him.

“You need to keep your hands away from your pockets,” he said to Mr. LaBelle.

“This is an outrage!” Mr. LaBelle snapped. He was doing his best to sound angry and offended, but there was fear just beneath.

“What was so important that you had to run the bulldozer in the dark?” Daddy asked.

“That's none of your business.”

I saw Mr. LaBelle's eyes go to either side, as if he was getting ready to make a run for it. It was pretty dark, even with the moon, and he might have had a decent chance of getting away. Only, right at that moment, three more cars came zooming up and stopped behind us. Their headlights lit the whole area like a football stadium during a night game.

Cyrus Middleton came walking right past us with a state police officer on either side of him. The officers all had their hands on their weapons, and it was pretty obvious that if Mr. LaBelle intended to run, he didn't have a chance.

“What are you doing here?” Mr. LaBelle demanded, still trying to pretend he was totally mystified. I had to give him credit for being a really good liar.

Before the officers could say anything, I spoke up. “He stole the gas truck and also the armored car. They're in the dirt piles.”

“What are you talking about? Are you people listening to these . . . children?”

“They're in the dirt pile,” Bee said. “We both saw them, but we didn't realize what they were. That's why Mr. LaBelle is here tonight. He was filling in those hollows so if the police came out here over the next few days, they wouldn't find them.”

“That's ridiculous,” Mr. LaBelle insisted. “I was a prisoner of those two criminals just like your parents!”

I shook my head. “Lenny said something about you wanting to throw him and Possum to the wolves. That saying has been bothering me all night, because I didn't understand what he was talking about, but now I do. Lenny realized you were going to double-cross them and claim they had been behind all this and that you were innocent. That was why they took you prisoner, wasn't it?”

Mr. LaBelle looked at me for a second, and then he just hung his head.

“Your own wife and daughter could have been killed,” Bee said.

That was when Mr. LaBelle started to cry. “I couldn't let them think I was a criminal,” he said in a choked voice.

“Even if it got all of you killed?” Bee asked.

“By then it was too late,” he sobbed. “Lenny thought he could take all the money for himself if he got rid of us.”

The policemen put the cuffs on Mr. LaBelle, and one of the policemen patted him down and took a pistol out of his pants pocket.

Mr. LaBelle didn't say another word.

As they led Mr. LaBelle past us to their car, Deputy Middleton stopped. “How did you figure all that out?”

“Well, after dinner Judge Gator said something about welding, and I remembered how we'd thrown a welding mask over that dirt mound to try to distract Possum.”

Bee added, “It just kind of clicked for both of us at the same instant. We remembered the tanks we'd seen and the trucks and the thick pieces of metal.”

One of the state policemen shook his head. “They stole the acetylene so they could get rid of the armored car by cutting it into pieces?”

“Yes,” I said. “Everybody thought they robbed the gas company to get money, but it was all about the acetylene.”

Then Bee added, “And Mr. LaBelle was trucking lots and lots of dirt off the island. I bet if you find out where he dumped it, you'll find pieces of the armored car.”

Deputy Middleton looked at us and nodded. “If it wasn't for you girls, he just might have gotten away with it.”

 

As we drove home Bee and I were smiling. We were both as proud as we could be that we had figured everything out. The police had even found a box buried behind the double-wide with what looked like the missing eight million dollars. Bee and I were so delighted with ourselves that we forgot that we were supposed to get punished, and we asked Grandma Em and Daddy if we could have a sleepover. Apparently they were either so tired or so proud of us that they forgot, too, because they agreed.

We went straight to bed when we got home, but it was way too early the next morning when Daddy and Grandma Em both showed up at my bedroom door and told us to get up right away and come down for breakfast, because there was something important we needed to do. I pulled the pillow over my head, thinking that the punishment I thought we had dodged the night before was awaiting us in the kitchen.

After a second I rolled over and looked at Bee in the other bed, who was looking just as sleepy as I felt. “What are they talking about?”

“No idea,” she muttered.

We came down to the kitchen a few minutes later to find Daddy scrambling eggs. Buttered toast and crisp bacon was already on the table, which was a welcome sight, but I was still as nervous as a chicken in a meat factory.

Bee and I sat at the table, rubbed the sleep from our eyes, and waited for somebody to tell us what was going on. It was only after Daddy had spooned out the eggs and we all started to eat that they told us.

“What you girls did—and I'm talking about the
good
part, not the very, very
stupid
part—was incredibly brave,” Grandma Em began. “But you know, it was not just the two of you who accomplished it.”

I shot a sideways glance at Bee, who was already looking at me. We both smelled a really big rat.

“There was another girl involved,” Grandma Em went on.

“Donna?” I said. I glanced at Daddy, but he had that stony look on his face that said he was 100 percent behind what Grandma Em was saying.

“While it was very difficult on all of us, it was hardest on her because of her father. While Mr. LaBelle may have done a lot of terrible things, I believe Donna still loves her father very much. His trial is going to be long and shameful and difficult, and it will be in the news every single day. I believe that you girls need to stand by Donna.”

“Grandma!” Bee exclaimed. “You don't know her! She's horrible.”

Grandma Em held up a hand for silence. “I know how you girls feel, but when people are in need, we do not worry about whether we like them. We worry about helping them.”

I rolled my eyes, and Daddy caught it and said in a warning tone, “Abigail, are you listening?”

He'd called me Abigail. “Yessir,” I muttered.

A knock on the kitchen door interrupted everything, and a second later Judge Gator walked in. “Almost ready?” he said.

It was then plain as day why Daddy and Grandma Em had allowed us to have our sleepover. They were in cahoots along with Judge Gator and wanted us corralled up so we'd be easier to control.

“What do we have to do?” Bee asked.

“We're going over to see Donna and her mother,” Grandma Em said. “I'm sure they had a very difficult night.”

 

Twenty minutes later we pulled into a driveway in a suburb of small houses I hadn't been to before. We were in Daddy's Suburban with Judge Gator following behind, and when we pulled up to a single-level house on a quiet corner, we all climbed out and walked to the front door. Grandma Em had brought a baked ham, a basket of collards and tomatoes from her garden, and a bouquet of flowers. She and Daddy went first and rang the bell.

A second later Mrs. LaBelle came to the door. She was wearing a robe, her hair was a mess, and there were dark bags the size of ice-cream scoops under her eyes. She just stood there for a few seconds looking at all the things Grandma Em had brought, and right away I saw tears start to gather in the corners of her eyes.

She took the ham and the flowers and the basket of greens from Grandma Em, then turned around to try and mop her tears. As she did she called out to Donna. A few seconds later Donna appeared from somewhere in the back of the house, not looking any better than her mother. Bee and I knew what we had to do, and even though we weren't happy about it, we knew it was no use fighting Daddy and Grandma Em.

I took a step forward. “Bee and I thought you were really brave yesterday,” I told her.

“Most kids our age could never have done what you did,” Bee added. “You should be proud of yourself. You're also an awesome actress.”

Donna looked back and forth between us. “Thanks,” she said after a few seconds.

Donna's mom surprised me when she gave us a nice smile. “You and Bee were very brave, too,” she said. “All of us owe you girls our thanks.”

Judge Gator cleared his throat. “Would you girls please step over to my car?”

We all did as he asked, but when the judge spoke, he looked only at Donna. “Young lady,” he said, “several days ago, my Boykin spaniel, Yemassee, was stolen right before she was due to have puppies.” He glanced at Bee and me then turned back to Donna.

“Now, it appears that my dog has been found, and it also appears that all five of her puppies are in fine shape. It's too soon for the puppies to leave their mother, but it might be fun to see them, don't you think?”

Without waiting for an answer, Judge Gator opened up the tailgate window and then dropped the bottom so we could all see Yemassee with her puppies in the back of the car. He reached in, picked up one of the puppies, looked it over, and held it out to me. “I've already talked to your dad and Grandma Em and gotten their blessings, and I believe this one ought to be yours,” he said.

I was stunned. I already had been looking at that pup because he was the biggest dog in the litter. I took him and cradled him gently in my arms and smelled his wonderful puppy scent. He was calm, looking up at me and not wriggling all around. Daddy always said the early mark of a good hunting dog is one that pays attention to you and not his littermates. His eyes were barely open, but it felt incredible to think that in just a few weeks he might come home to live with Daddy, me, and Rufus.

BOOK: Disappearance at Hangman's Bluff
2.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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