Chapter Sixteen #2
The three made their way through a tiny living room. “Get the door,” Ledger said.
Kara released her hold on Roxanne long enough to unlock and open the door of the trailer.
Then she led the way down the steps. Dusk had fallen, the trees around them dark smudges against a gray sky.
Roxanne saw no other vehicles and no road, only a narrow dirt track through the trees.
The truck sat a few feet away. “Open the truck,” Ledger barked, and Kara ran ahead to do his bidding.
Roxanne didn’t hesitate. With her free hand, she reached around and grabbed one of the knitting needles. In one forceful movement, she raised the needle and plunged it toward Ledger’s face.
He screamed, and she kept driving the needle, into his eye.
He clutched at his face, bent double. Roxanne turned and ran.
She crashed through underbrush and dodged between tree trunks, Ledger’s roars and Kara’s screams gradually receding behind her.
She ran until her lungs ached and pain pierced her side.
When she was finally forced to stop, she could no longer see the trailer or the truck, or hear anything but her own gasping attempts to pull air into her burning lungs.
She bent over, hands on knees. She needed to get out of here.
To find help. But everywhere she turned, all she saw was trees. She had no idea where she was.
Sometimes in law enforcement, nothing went your way. The suspect you were sure was guilty had an unbreakable alibi. The proof you needed to make a case turned out to be worthless. And the felon you were chasing had left the state an hour before you got to his house.
But sometimes, you caught a break. Aaron was interviewing his third gas station attendant of the day about whether or not he had seen a truck like the one registered in Betty Josephs’s name, or the travel trailer, or anyone who looked like William Ledger.
“Oh yeah, I saw him,” the attendant, a tall man with a large, crooked nose and a dime-sized tuft of hair on his chin, said. “He was in here yesterday, filling up with gas. He bought a couple of padlocks.”
“Padlocks?” Aaron asked.
“Like those.” The attendant pointed over Aaron’s shoulder. Aaron turned and saw a row of padlocks on hooks.
“Did he say anything?” Aaron asked. “Where he was going? Where he was from? Why he wanted the locks?”
“Nope. But I noticed the truck. I’ve been wanting to get one of those big welded bumpers for mine and I asked him about it. He said his girlfriend got it for him.”
“Was there anybody with him?”
“No. He was by himself. And he didn’t have a trailer. But I’m sure it was him.” He tapped the photograph Aaron had laid on the counter. “We’ve probably still got him on the security video.”
Aaron left a minute later with a copy of the security video on a flash drive in an evidence bag in his pocket.
He radioed the information to Sheriff Travis Walker.
“I think Ledger is holed up somewhere near here,” Aaron said.
“The gas station attendant said he thought he had been in once or twice before over the last couple of weeks.”
“That’s a pretty rural area, isn’t it?” Travis asked. “Few houses, a lot of public land.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty dense woods. I’m going to drive down a few roads, see if I can spot anywhere people have been camping.”
“Call in anything you see, but don’t approach on your own,” Travis said.
“Ten-four.”
Aaron left the gas station and a quarter mile later turned down a forest service road.
Immediately, dense stands of trees closed in on either side, shutting out what little daylight was left.
The pavement gave way to dirt after only a few yards.
Aaron slowed the vehicle to a crawl and switched on the spotlight mounted to the side mirror of the SUV.
He played the beam over the woods on the left side of the road, searching for any space that might serve to hide Ledger’s truck or trailer.
Traveling so slowly, it was easy to lose track of how far he had gone.
After what seemed like half an hour had passed, he had only driven three miles.
Anxiety clawed at the back of his neck, fed by the crowding trees and narrow road.
Full darkness had descended, distorting shadows and making every tree appear menacing.
He could easily end up trapped in a place like this.
If Ledger had seen the spotlight, he might move ahead or behind and ambush Aaron, picking him off with a long gun as he drove past.
His search for Ledger’s hiding place became a search for a place to turn his SUV around. He spotted a section of trees ahead that seemed less dense and aimed for it. As he neared it, he could see tire tracks turning off the road. He stopped, and aimed the spotlight past the tracks.
The trailer crouched in a clearing hacked out of the forest, the raw stumps and severed branches glowing white in the harsh glare.
Beside it sat a black truck, a large welded bumper on the front.
Aaron couldn’t see the plate numbers from here, but he didn’t have to.
He switched off the spot, slammed the vehicle into Reverse and backed down the road until he could turn around in a series of awkward back-and-forth shifts.
Then he picked up the phone, afraid to use the radio in case Ledger was listening in on a scanner. “Sheriff, I’ve found him,” he said. “The truck and trailer are right here, on Forest Road 4624. About three miles down. I’m going to pull over and watch the place until backup arrives.”
“I’ll get a team out there ASAP,” Travis said. “Let us know if he moves.”
Aaron ended the call and settled in to wait. If the truck drove past him, Aaron would follow it, lights off, keeping track of Ledger, but not approaching him.
But Ledger didn’t drive past. The road was silent and still.
Aaron rolled down his window and listened.
Somewhere an owl hooted, and a second owl replied.
The chatter of the radio was a barely audible hum.
He checked his service weapon, then freed the rifle from its holder between the seats.
He hoped he wouldn’t need any of these weapons, but he wanted to be prepared.
He thought about texting Willa, to tell her where he was and what he was doing, but decided that would only worry her. Better to wait to tell the story after this was all over.
It seemed a long time before he heard a car approaching, though in reality it was less than twenty minutes. The sheriff’s truck pulled up alongside him and Travis lowered the window. “Anything we should know?” Travis asked.
“No one has come this way,” Aaron said.
“Ride with me,” Travis said.
Aaron exited his SUV and came around to the passenger side of Travis’s truck.
He brought the rifle with him. Travis said nothing, merely waited until Aaron had shut the door and secured the rifle, then the truck rolled forward.
Lights came up behind them. “Gage is back there with Ryker, with Shane and Jake behind them,” Travis said.
“I’ve got a SWAT unit out of Junction on call if things get hairy, but I’m hoping we can go in and arrest him without much trouble. ”
They approached the truck and trailer and Travis switched off his headlights. The others did the same. They parked side by side across the entrance to the clearing, blocking the exit. Then they got out of their vehicles, moving as silently as possible in the darkness.
Travis took out a microphone. “William Ledger!” he said, his amplified voice filling the clearing. “This is the Rayford County Sheriff’s Department. We have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up.”
No answer. The silence stretched until Aaron thought his nerves would snap. He wiped his damp palms on his thighs and stared at the door of the trailer, willing it to open, yet fearful of what would happen when it did.
“William Ledger,” Travis said again. “Come out now, with your hands up.”
They had three spotlights trained on the trailer, so everyone saw when the door began to ease open. “Don’t shoot me!” a plaintive voice called.
“We won’t shoot,” Travis said. “Put your hands on top of your head and walk out slowly.”
The door opened wider and a small woman—not even five feet tall, with short hair that looked black in this light, descended the steps. Her face was streaked with tears. “You have to help him,” she wailed. “I’m afraid he’s dying.”
Travis and Aaron moved in to take the woman by the arms. Aaron cuffed her hands behind her back. She didn’t resist, merely stood between them, sobbing. “Who’s dying?” Travis asked.
“Billy! He’s hurt. He’s in the trailer and there’s so much blood.”
They passed the woman over to Shane and Jake and, with Ryker and Gage, approached the trailer.
At a signal from the sheriff, Ryker and Jake moved around to the back of the trailer.
Travis and Aaron positioned themselves on either side of the front door.
Travis reached over to pound on the door. “This is the sheriff! Open up!”
No answer. Travis tried again, but still no response. His shoulder-mounted radio crackled and Jake said. “I can see in the back window,” he said. “Someone’s lying on the floor. He looks to be in bad shape.”
“Ten-four.” Travis looked to Aaron. “On three.”
Travis counted down, then together, they burst through the door into chaos.
The first thing Aaron noticed was the blood.
The air reeked of it, the metallic aroma overcoming even the funk of cigarette smoke.
The carpet around the door was wet with it.
A man lay on his back in the middle of the floor.
He was clutching his face and moaning. The three deputies and Travis descended on him.
Aaron helped roll the man on his side and cuff his hands.
His fingers and wrists were slippery with blood, and it took several tries to secure him.
Ledger—Aaron was sure it was Ledger—thrashed and wailed. “My eye!” he cried. “My eye!”
Travis keyed his mic. “We need an ambulance,” he said, and relayed their location. Meanwhile, Ryker shone a flashlight at Ledger’s bloody face. His left eyelid was closed and swollen shut, though blood continued to seep from beneath it. “What happened?” Travis asked.
Ledger’s only answer was a sound like a wounded animal.
Travis crouched in front of Ledger. “We have an ambulance on the way,” he said. “I need you to tell me where Roxanne Byrne is.”
“I don’t know a Roxanne,” Ledger said.
“Mary,” Aaron said. “Where is Mary?”
“She’s dead!” Ledger roared. The two words echoed in the silence that followed.
“How did she die?” Travis asked, his voice tight.
“I killed her.”
“What did you do with her body?” Travis asked.
“I burned it. And I buried the ashes. You’ll never find her.”
Aaron’s mouth was dry. His throat burned. “Who did that to your eye?” he asked.
Ledger turned to him, face mottled red and white, the grotesque, weeping eye giving him the appearance of a gargoyle. “She got what she deserved,” he said.
The ambulance arrived and Ledger, accompanied by Ryker and Gage, was transported to the hospital in Junction. Shane and Jake took the woman, who had refused to give her name, into the sheriff’s department for booking.
Aaron and Travis surveyed the bloody living room of the trailer. “Do you think he was telling the truth?” Aaron asked. “About killing Roxanne?”
“I don’t know,” Travis said. “But someone stabbed him in the eye and I don’t think it was the woman we just arrested.”
“Roxanne would have fought back,” Aaron said. “At least, I think she would.”
“We need to look for her,” Travis said. “We won’t know for sure she’s dead until we find her body.”