I'll Walk Alone - Mary Higgins Clark [105]
Vita Kolber had come back into the living room. “Sorry,” she said. “It wasn’t in the drawer where I thought I had put it. Would you like me to play it for you, Detective Johnson?”
“Please.”
Vita pushed the button of her tape machine. The voice of Bartley Longe, powerful in its fury, threatening and frightening in its message, reverberated through the room. “You will regret this, Brittany. If you live to regret it.”
Wally Johnson asked to have it played again. It sent chills down his spine. “I’ll have to take that tape with me now,” he said.
69
Penny Hammel knew she should not take the chance of driving past the Owens farmhouse and being spotted by Gloria Evans. But as she told Bernie, she also knew that something was going on in that house and it was probably a drug deal. “And maybe there’s a reward,” she said. “You know you can be an anonymous caller, I mean they won’t blab all over the news that you’re the one who blew the whistle.”
There were times when Bernie didn’t mind being on the road so much, and one of those times was when Penny got it into her head that something mysterious was going on around her. “Honey, remember the time you thought that stray poodle you found was the missing champion that ran away in the airport? When you checked it out, he was a foot higher and twelve pounds heavier than the other one.”
“I know. But he was a nice dog, and then I advertised and his owner came for him.”
“Your thank-you was a bottle of the cheapest wine that guy could find in the liquor store,” Bernie reminded her.
“So what? The dog was so happy to be found.” Philosophically, Penny had shrugged off the incident. It was Saturday morning. Over breakfast they had seen the news clip of Alexandra Moreland leaving the station house last night still screaming denials that she had kidnapped her child. Penny had thoroughly reasserted her opinion of what should be done to that heartless mother.
Bernie was about to leave for an overnighter that would bring him back on Monday evening. Penny had reminded him several times that he absolutely could not miss the Lottery Winners’ reunion in Alvirah and Willy’s apartment on Tuesday evening.
He zipped up his jacket and pulled on his wool cap. It was then that he noticed that Penny was wearing her tracksuit and thick boots. “Are you going for a walk?” he asked. “It’s pretty cold out.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Penny said dismissively. “I’m considering going into town and stopping by to say hello to Rebecca.”
“You’re not going to walk into town, are you?”
“No, but I may do a little shopping or something.”
“Uh-huh. Well, just don’t overdo it.” Bernie planted a kiss on Penny’s cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow, honey.”
“Drive carefully. If you get sleepy, be sure to pull over. Remember I love you and I don’t want to be a merry widow.”
It was their traditional parting when Bernie went on the road.
Penny gave him plenty of time to get out of town, then around ten o’clock went into the closet to get her heavy jacket, snow hat, and gloves. She had already put the binoculars on the sideboard behind a lamp where Bernie wouldn’t see them. I’ll park the car on the street that borders the end of Sy’s property, she thought, then I’ll sneak up and hang out in the woods for a while. It might be silly, but who knows? That Evans woman is up to something. I can feel it in my bones.
Twenty minutes later she was standing behind an evergreen tree with heavy branches. From there she had a good view of the house. She waited for nearly an hour and then, her hands and feet cold, decided to leave. It was at that moment that the side door of the farmhouse opened and she saw Gloria