The General's Secretary Page 16

  Hopefully everything would smooth out between them, but tonight, more than anything, Dawson wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her close. She might not need him, but he needed her in his life. He had been alone for too long, and he was beginning to think he wanted her close for a long, long time to come.

  * * *

  Lillie groaned. Her head ached as if a giant sledgehammer had crashed into her skull. Her mouth tasted like bile, and she gagged. Trying to raise her hands, she realized they were bound. Her legs were as well.

  Her eyes flew open. She was lying on a pile of rags in the corner of a garage. Tools hung from a pegboard overhead. Hunting trophies decorated the walls, along with a shellacked wooden paddle.

  She squinted, hoping to decipher the letters—Greek letters—painted on the shiny wood. ΓΤ. Gamma Tau.

  The words on the shirt Mr. Simpson had seen the boy in the bar wearing hadn’t been Georgia Tech, but rather the name of a fraternity at nearby Georgia Southwestern, where she had gone to school.

  Lillie peered at the only escape route—a small door on the far side of the garage that hung ajar, drawing in cold air.

  Please, God.

  She couldn’t think about the dropping temperature outside or how long she would have to hide in the bushes waiting for someone to find her. Staying here meant certain death, and more than anything, she wanted to live.

  Dawson’s face swam into view. She had so much to tell him about the good man he was and how he had been the only person to ever break down the wall she had built around her heart.

  She hadn’t wanted to let anyone in, until Dawson. Now she wanted him more than anything. If only he could find her. He probably thought she wasn’t interested in seeing him again. She wanted to cry out at her own stupidity and self-centeredness.

  Instead she tucked her chin to her chest and threw her left shoulder over her right, then flopped from her stomach to her back and continued to roll. Her shoulders and hips ached as they pounded against the cement floor, but she ignored the pain and forced herself to roll forward toward the partially opened door.

  Footsteps.

  Her heart exploded in her chest. She had to escape.

  With a last push, she wiggled closer and cupped her chin around the bottom edge of the open door. Before she could inch it open, a force shoved the heavy oak, slamming the door into her neck.

  She gasped. Pain radiated through her jaw.

  He kicked her.

  She screamed.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Instinctively, she curled into a fetal position, trying to protect herself. She saw the mud-covered boots as he struck her again and again. More frightening than his blows was the steel drum he rolled into the garage, identical to the one her mother had been buried in so many years ago.

  Like mother, like daughter. Lillie would die tonight just as her mother had, buried alive where no one would ever find her.

  EIGHTEEN

  Before Dawson fell asleep that night, his cell rang. He checked caller ID and pushed the phone to his ear. “Hey, Kelly. Didn’t take you long.”

  “I got one of my friends from the local police department to join me. We paid Mr. Webber a visit. The guy’s squeaky clean. Runs a company that provides jobs for special-needs adults. He’s also heavily involved in local charitable causes.”

  “Sounds like Burl Nelson from Freemont.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Mr. Webber says he’s never touched alcohol, even in his youth. His pastor vouched for him. My gut feeling is he’s telling the truth. I’d say you’ve got the wrong guy if you think he’s involved in anything suspect.”

  “Thanks, I owe you. How’s Phil?”

  “Handsome as ever.”

  “You two ever plan to come back to Georgia?”

  “Depends on Uncle Sam. Tell everyone in CID headquarters I said hello. Colorado is golden. Come visit sometime.”

  Dawson hung up feeling somewhat let down. Grateful though he was for Kelly’s help, he had hoped Bobby Webber would turn out to be the missing link. The guidance counselor had mentioned another brother. He’d have Pritchard check it out.

  At least Billy Everett was in custody, and something was bound to break soon. Everything pointed to wrapping up the case in the next day or so. Dawson should feel optimistic, but when the investigation concluded, he and Lillie would go their separate ways, which wasn’t what he wanted.

  He thought again of Kelly and Phil Thibodeaux and their happily-ever-after marriage. Was that what he wanted for his life? Or was he acting like a crazy fool for thinking an ex-con’s son could find a woman who loved him despite his father and his past?

  * * *

  “Sweet Lillie, come to Mama. Your daddy’s here.”

  She turned and saw her father, the man who traveled, or so Mama said. He laughed and so did Mama. Scooping Lillie into her arms, her mother kissed her cheek.

  “A storm’s coming, Irene. Put the child to bed.” His voice.

  “It’s early, dear.”

  “But I don’t have long tonight. Do as I say so we’ll have enough time together.”

  “I want to stay with you, Mama.”

  “Hush, darling. We’ll be together in the morning.”

  Only no one was there when the storm passed.

  “Lillie?” Another voice broke into her memories. This one in present day and close to her ear. Stale breath, rough hands.

  “You can’t get away from me this time.”

  He shoved her into the drum. She fought and kicked and screamed, but he was too strong for her. His fist crashed into her chest. Everything swirled around her.

  With a loud clang, the lid crashed down into place. Lillie cringed with each horrific jolt as he pounded it shut. Darkness surrounded her.

  She gasped for air.

  How long before she’d die?

  Too long.

  Oh, Dawson, where are you?

  NINETEEN

  Ever so quietly, Dawson eased the door to his room closed the next morning as he left the Lodge so as not to disturb Lillie, sleeping across the hall. She would have to be up soon enough to get ready for work.

  Even though he wasn’t fully convinced Billy Everett was the killer, Dawson still felt confident Lillie was safe on post. The military police were on alert and checking each vehicle that passed through the main gate.

  Not that something couldn’t happen on federal property, yet chances were good Granger’s murderer was a civilian from off post who wouldn’t venture onto the military garrison.

  Chief Agent in Charge Wilson had assigned CID personnel and military police to cover the ceremony at the museum this morning. With the number of wealthy businessmen and politicians in attendance, as well as the Freemont mayor and local officials, General Cameron wanted to ensure the VIPs could enjoy the ceremony in total safety.

  Arriving on-site early, Dawson met up with Jamison near the raised special seating area. Both of them eyed the sky and the dark clouds in the distance.

  “Looks like the weather might be a problem.” Dawson stated what they both knew to be true.

  “The general debated moving the ceremony to the auditorium on post.”

  “Which would have been a good idea.”

  Jamison nodded. “In hindsight. Although Karl Nelson asked to keep it out here. He wanted his construction crew to be able to hear the general’s praise for what they are about to accomplish.”

  “I’d hate to see the weather bring everything to a halt, especially after all the preparations that have gone into today.” Dawson thought of the hours Lillie had spent on the project. “Still, it’s the general’s call. Any idea what time the old man is expected to arrive?”

 
“Before long.” Jamison checked his watch. “The ceremony is scheduled to start at oh-nine-hundred hours. My guess, he’ll be here in the next few minutes.”

  By the time Lillie arrived at the construction site, Dawson would need to focus on the special guests. He wouldn’t be able to talk to her until after the official program had concluded, and then only in passing. Following the ceremony, he had to proceed to the club and provide security at the luncheon.

  With a few minutes to kill before the VIP vans arrived, Dawson jabbed Jamison’s arm. “You’ll never guess who I talked to last night?”

  “Kelly Thibodeaux.”

  Dawson tried to hide his surprise. “Did she call you?”

  Jamison laughed. “Only to ask if something was going on between you and the general’s secretary.”

  “What?”

  Jamison shrugged. “You know women have a sixth sense about matchmaking. Kelly heard something in your voice when you mentioned Lillie’s name.”

  “I was merely bringing Kelly up to date on the case.”

  Jamison raised his brow and stared at Dawson. “So was she right?”

  “About what?”

  “Oh, come on, Dawson, stop playing games. I’m talking about you and the general’s secretary. My mother-in-law thinks Lillie’s charming.”

  Jamison’s wife was the daughter of one of the colonels on post. “How is Michele?”

  “She’s fine, but you’re changing the subject.” Jamison chuckled as he turned to study the construction area. “I heard you brought Billy Everett back from Florida. What’s he have to say?”

  “Only that he doesn’t know who killed Lillie’s mom or Granger Ford.”

  Jamison sniffed and then glanced back at Dawson. “I’m sorry about all this, Dawson. I told Wilson I was to blame for you taking the case in the first place.”

  Dawson held up his hand. “We’ve been over this before, Jamison. The problem’s mine. I told him you were only doing your job.”

  “Maybe, but I still feel responsible.” He patted Dawson’s back and then walked off to check the VIP area.

  Glancing at the dark clouds, Dawson thought about his father, who had been absent from his life. Growing up, he believed his mother had been the problem and not his dad.

  Eventually, he’d realized his mother had done her best under difficult circumstances. Life wasn’t fair, and some people managed better than others. Dawson had worked hard to ensure her woe-is-me way of looking at life didn’t rub off on him.

  No wonder he had created an imaginary father whom he tried to emulate. Lillie was right. Dawson had worked construction as a teen because of his dad.

  Until the accident.

  He should have known trying to follow in his father’s footsteps could be his undoing.

  The army had offered him another way out and a chance to make a success of his life, to do something right and make a difference. If only the JAG would find him innocent of any wrongdoing.

  He glanced at his watch, wanting to call Lillie and hear her voice. No doubt she was still at post headquarters, working on last-minute details the general needed prior to the ceremony. Dawson couldn’t interfere. Not now.

  A handful of folks from town had already arrived and started to find their seats in the reviewing stands. The bus, transporting the Fort Rickman Army Band, pulled into the parking lot. The director studied the sky as if he too was worried about the storm.

  What a shame to have everything come to a halt before the ceremony had even started. Although the weather should never be ignored. Dawson thought back to the day he’d been digging the ditch. No one had realized rain the night before had weakened the ground until the sides of the ditch collapsed in on Dawson.

  He shook off the memory and turned his gaze to the pit in the middle of the construction site, where pylons and a crisscross of rebar established the layout of the building’s basement foundation. A front-end loader and two dump trucks sat parked nearby.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Dawson spied the caravan of vehicles, carrying the visiting dignitaries, pull into the makeshift parking area behind the bleachers. The VIPs disembarked, chatting among themselves as they made their way to the reviewing stand.

  As people gathered in the stands, the band took up its position on the field and, after a brief warm-up, began to play military march music. The visitors kept time by tapping their feet or clapping their hands. The crowd seemed ready to enjoy the celebration. All was going well except for the approaching storm and General Cameron’s absence.

  Dawson checked his watch once again before glancing at the surrounding bleachers to ensure Lillie had not yet arrived.

  In the distance, he spied the car carrying the commanding general. A flag with two red stars fluttered from the front bumper.

  All eyes were on the sedan when it pulled to a stop at the side of the VIP area. The general’s aide rode in the front passenger seat. Mark exited the vehicle and rounded to the far side to assist General Cameron with the door he had already opened.

  Karl Nelson parked behind the general. He stepped from his car and shook hands with two men standing nearby. The general and Nelson exchanged greetings and chatted with a number of people as they walked through the growing crowd of onlookers. The general climbed the platform to where the distinguished guests were seated on folding chairs. Karl waved to the local townspeople in the bleachers before he joined Cameron.

  Dawson expected to see Lillie’s car. She would probably be wearing the attractive and very appropriate brooch that would draw the attention of many of the women in the crowd.

  The post adjutant walked to the microphone and welcomed the dignitaries and local guests to the morning ceremony. He invited the visitors to stand as the band played the national anthem.

  Dawson pulled his hand to his forehead in salute along with those in uniform. The women and civilians covered their hearts with their right hands. Many of the invited guests sang along with the words they knew so well.

  At the conclusion of the anthem, Dawson scanned the crowd, but he still couldn’t find Lillie. The chaplain stepped forward and prayed for God’s protection for the construction crews working on the project and for good weather to see the museum completed in a timely manner.

  Although heartfelt, his prayer seemed a bit late in coming as the sky continued to darken and the wind gathered strength. Many of the folks in the bleachers hustled to their cars in anticipation of the approaching storm.

  The adjutant returned to the microphone and introduced the commanding general. Cameron leaned down to talk privately with Karl. The general pointed to the storm clouds. Karl waved his hand, his negative response easy enough to read.

  A number of the dignitaries whispered among themselves, their faces drawn and eyes wide as they too studied the sky.

  Dawson recognized a state representative from the local area. He helped his wife slip into her raincoat and then escorted her off the platform. General Cameron turned and watched them hurry toward the waiting vans.

  A bolt of lightning cut across the horizon. A clap of thunder followed almost immediately.

  Without glancing at his prepared speech, the general leaned into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, the weather seems to be working against us today. For the safety of all, please return to the vans or your private vehicles. We will have to cancel the ceremony planned for this morning and move to the Fort Rickman Club. I’ll join you there shortly.”

  Another bolt of lightning and the accompanying crack of thunder punctuated the general’s remarks and hurried the people away from the metal stands. Before most folks reached their cars, the sky opened, and fat drops of rain pummeled the earth.

  More concerned than ever, Dawson sought out the general’s aide. “Where’s Lillie?”

  “She never showed up at work today. I though
t she was with you.”

  Icicles of fear punctured Dawson’s heart. “Didn’t she call to say what had happened?”

  Mark steeled his eyes. “I doubt she’d tell me much of anything after she spent the night with you.”

  Dawson wanted to grab the guy by the lapels and beat some manners into his affected grin.

  “She didn’t spend the night with me. Why would you think that? There’s nothing going on between us. Besides, Lillie’s not even sure she wants to talk to me at this point.”

  The aide raised his brow. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You really don’t know where she is?”

  “I wouldn’t joke about Lillie’s safety.”

  “I’m heading back to the club with General Cameron. I’ll let you know if she arrives.”

  “Contact post headquarters. Maybe she’s at the office by now.”

  “Will do. I’ll get back to you as soon as I hear anything.”

  Dawson reached for his phone and speed-dialed Lillie’s cell. His stomach tightened when an automated voice stated the number was not in service.

  Standing in the midst of the mass of people running to their cars to get out of the rain, Dawson felt his heart drop lower than the cloud cover.

  Where was Lillie? He had left post yesterday to apprehend Everett and hadn’t seen her since.

  Jamison helped the VIPs board the vans. Dawson hustled to his side. “Lillie never showed up for work today. I’m going to check the Lodge. If she’s not there, I’ll drive to her house in Freemont in case she went home. Cover for me at the club. I’ll get there when I’ve located Lillie and know she’s okay.”

  “Don’t worry. We can handle it. I’ll be praying you find her.”

  A lump formed in Dawson’s throat. He wanted to thank Jamison, but he didn’t know what to say in response to his offer to pray.

  Looking back on the construction site, Dawson saw the giant earthmoving equipment standing idle at the edge of the deep pit. All around him, people were running for cover.

  Without anyplace else to turn, he followed Jamison’s lead. “Lord, help me find Lillie.”