I used the fading glow of the campfire to make my way to a point I felt safe to turn on the flashlight. The terrain wouldn’t be that bad if I could take my time, but that wasn’t an option. I ran as fast as I could, slowing only to climb over fallen logs and to duck underneath low hanging limbs.
Although I tried, I couldn’t stop analyzing the situation I was in. I figured Ted would follow a similar path, but not at my pace. It was Ray I had to worry about. According to my quick calculations, it would take him and Jane only two minutes to reach his Suburban and drive Ted’s long driveway to Bruce Road. It would take another fifteen seconds to reach Bethsaida Road and make a right turn. Maybe twenty-five seconds to arrive at Simpson Street.
I broke out into a cold sweat, and it wasn’t from my running or the cool weather. There was no way I could reach my Hyundai before Ray and Jane arrived at the Clausen’s. I could forget making a get-a-way without being seen. There was only one way out, Simpson Road, and that’s the exact path they were on right now.
I was a little over halfway to my car and was moving too fast to manage a steep bank. I fell face forward, sliding twenty feet before ending sideways in the ice-cold creek. Thankfully, the water was only inches deep. I used both hands to pry myself upward and realized I’d lost the flashlight. My handkerchief was in my back pocket. I removed it, dried off my hands, and retrieved my iPhone from my front left pocket, hoping it had survived my fall. It worked. I activated the Flashlight App but still couldn’t find my Walmart flashlight. I couldn’t afford to waste any more time. If it hadn’t been for the moonlight, it would have taken an extra five minutes to reach my car.
The moment I exited the woods, I saw Ray’s Suburban nudged against the Hyundai’s rear bumper. Even with the Clausen’s streetlight, I didn’t see Ray. Maybe he had gone into the woods looking for me. I walked as fast as I could thirty feet to my driver’s side door. The second I placed my hand on the handle, I heard his voice several feet behind. “You fucking bastard.” I turned and saw him entering the shadows of the streetlight. I froze, not knowing what to do. “You fucking bastard.” He kept repeating himself. I thought of the H & K underneath my seat and leaned into my open door.
I grabbed the pistol, stood and swiveled in one move. That’s when Ray’s right fist cocked my left eye. I fell backwards, slouching into the front seat with the H & K landing on the floorboard. The pain in my head was like none I’d ever experienced. And I thought the Walmart scene was bad.
“Get up you fucking loser.” Ray gave me no choice. With both hands, he grabbed my jacket below my collarbones, lifting me like I was a sack of groceries. Out of my right eye, I saw Jane for the first time. She was less than ten feet away, her back to the woods. All of this was happening fast, but somehow it felt like slow motion. She raised her right hand and pointed toward the Clausen’s.
“Ray, Barry, he’s got a gun.” At first, my confusion led me to believe she was referring to my gun. That’s when I heard the first shot. Ray released his grip on my shoulders and turned to his right. I swiveled to my left so I could see out of my right eye. A short, pudgy and balding guy who I assumed was Barry Clausen was running our way with a rifle pointed more at Ray than anybody. Behind Barry, fifty feet, was an expensive car. A Mercedes, I think.
I knelt on one knee and felt for the H & K behind me on the front floorboard. Ray was quick as a cat. In the seconds since I’d seen Jane point and announce Barry’s presence, Ray had simultaneously crouched and removed a pistol from his rear waste band.
Two shots rang out together. My hand located my pistol, and I slid a round into the chamber maintaining my kneeling position, somewhat protected from Ray by the driver’s side door.
Jane screamed. It was more of a loud moan than anything. I looked through the glass window and saw her fall backwards. That’s when Ray stood and pointed his pistol towards me. Here’s for stealing my wife. He didn’t hesitate. The bullet shattered the Hundyai’s window and missed my right ear by only a hair’s width. I fell to my left and somehow fired the H & K. I hit Ray with my first shot.
He slumped to one knee, clutching his stomach with both hands before reaching for his pistol five feet in front of him. I got to my feet and kicked his gun away as Ray collapsed onto his right side.
That’s when I heard a siren and saw the bodies. To my left, Barry was lying on his back, his rifle at his feet. To my right, Jane was also on her back, but she was moving, albeit slightly. I raced to her as I estimated the siren had just turned onto Simpson Street and would arrive in fifteen seconds.
Jane was bleeding from her right shoulder. Thankfully, it wasn’t a deadly wound, but given her moaning, I knew she believed otherwise. “Help is coming, lie still.” I applied pressure to her wound and heard a woman’s voice.
“Oh my God, he’s dead.” I turned my head and saw a woman on both knees beside Barry’s body. Her crying seemed artificial. It had to be Vanessa Clausen.
***
A City of Boaz police car and two ambulances arrived at 7:13, according to my iPhone. While Jane and Ray were being attended to by the paramedics, a D. Wilson ordered me away from my car while his associate, an E. White, commandeered Vanessa Clausen.
Neither officer knew who to trust, so they put the woman and me in handcuffs and started lobbing questioning. Once Wilson saw my swollen eye, he became more sympathetic. “I’ll transport you to the Emergency Room to get you checked out, then we’ll need to go to the police station.”
“I understand.” I said, feeling like I could pass out at any moment.
White did the same with Vanessa even though she showed no signs of injury. With me in the back seat as Wilson followed White’s car, I volunteered what had happened. The only thing Wilson would say was, “it’s a good thing, for you at least, that we received an anonymous tip.” He wouldn’t say who it was, but Orin Russell came to mind. I didn’t think it likely Ted would have tipped off the police since he had never arrived at the Clausen’s.
Upon arrival at the Emergency Room, they took me to an exam room, accompanied by Wilson. We waited for nearly an hour before he finally agreed for me to call Lillian. She didn’t answer. Maybe it was because it was 8:45, three-quarters of an hour after our scheduled call. All I could do was assume she had fallen asleep when she returned to her room. I knew she wouldn’t trail along as Stella met up with the Greg fellow.
The Emergency Room doctor, the same Dr. Clifton who had attended to Lillian and that I’d talked with, finally checked on me at 9:20. By 11:30 PM I exited the police station and climbed into my shattered-window Hyundai, thankful E. White and another officer had transported it from the Clausen’s. And, more thankful for Micaden Tanner. He’d responded to my call from the police station and come to Interrogation Room #2. Although it had taken quite a while, Micaden had persuaded Officer Wilson that my story was credible.
Just as I waved at Micaden in his truck and pulled out of the parking lot onto Highway 205, my iPhone rang. I didn’t recognize the number but answered it anyway. “Hello.”
“Is this Lee?” The woman’s voice was high pitched.
“It is, who’s calling?”
“Lee, this is Stella and I have some bad news.”
Her voice, now frantic. “Tell me, what’s happened?” I replied, a sick feeling engulfed my gut.
“Lillian has disappeared.”
“What do you mean, disappeared?”
“She wasn’t at Starbucks at 10:30, as promised. I arrived on time, but Lillian wasn’t there. After waiting fifteen minutes, I called, but she didn’t answer. I waited another hour before walking back to our room. She wasn’t there either. For the next two hours, I walked back and forth between our hotel and the coffee shop, trying to call Lillian every few minutes. Finally, around midnight, she answered, or that’s what I thought. She said nothing. I kept calling her name. I swear I could hear breathing, like a man, like he was listening to me but wasn’t saying anything. And he didn’t.”
Stella and I talked the entire time I drove to Kyla’s. Somehow, I knew something was wrong. It was like I was living a nightmare. My mind kept telling me I had to do something if I ever wanted to see Lillian alive again.
A few minutes before 1:00 AM, I turned Kyla’s Silverado left onto the I-59 entrance ramp at Collinsville. My intended destination, Gatlinburg, Tennessee.
The Pencil-Driven Life 