Chapter 52
There was no time to get in her car and drive away. Running to a neighbor’s house would not help either. Jeff was too close behind. And in this small town, the word would soon be out: Nathan Parker, the murderer, is running loose in the neighborhood. And now he had a hostage: the county cop’s sister. We had no choice but to outrun him.
Allison slowed and began to protest. “Nathan, where are we going? Why are we running? You just hurt my brother. We have to go back.” She then stopped, wailing in despair. “What’s going on?”
I pulled her behind a darkened house and tried to calm her. “Allison, your brother just shot at us. Not just at me, but at you too. Why are we running? Because your brother is going to kill me for sure. And maybe you.”
“Jeff wouldn’t do that,” she said, but I could see the doubt in her face. Her eyes were tearing up again.
“Allison. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault this is happening. I should have just left it alone.” She was still crying, but more softly now. “Allison, you should just go to someone you can trust in town and hide. Call the state police. Tell them everything. You’ll be OK. But I have to go. Just call the state police. There’s no one who will listen to me.”
She was suddenly calm. “I listened, Nathan. I’m here. We’re in this together.” Even in the near darkness, I could see the resolve forming on her face. She had committed to help me.
“Allison!” It was Jeff searching for his sister. “Parker, if you hurt my sister, you are going to die.”
She took my hand and led me through the yards of neighborhood houses, dodging around bushes and finding breaks in hedges that I would have struggled to get through. This was her territory. She knew it well.
Jeff’s shouts faded as we put distance between him and us. Allison finally stopped in a small park, and we ducked down behind some bushes. She opened her cell phone. Even in all the commotion, she thought to pick up the phone off the porch. She dialed 9-1-1. The phone beeped. The digital display read low battery.
“Damn,” she hissed.
We were on Main Street, not far from the center of town. No lights glowed in the darkness. It was quiet. Then I heard a car approaching. We ducked into an alley between two stores. The car went past and turned. It was quiet again. We both breathed noisily.
“Where else can we get to a phone? Right now?” I asked.
She again took my hand and led me along the row of storefronts. We were heading toward the library.
“Do you have the keys?”
“We won’t need them,” she said. It was then I noticed she had a brick in her other hand. Where did she get that? Back in the alley?
As we neared the library, bright lights erupted from across the street and blinded us. It was the high beams of a vehicle. Then a spotlight burst upon us, creating such an intense light that our images must have been imprinted on the wall behind us. We both froze, not knowing which way to turn to escape the glare. Or escape the gun that was surely trained on us from only a few yards away.
“Parker!” It couldn’t be. How could Jeff have gotten here already? He must have been in the car that went past. I didn’t hear it stop.
“Parker!” This command was louder. But it wasn’t threatening. It was Sheriff Tyler. “Get over here.” It was more of an urgent request than a command. “Please,” he said.
Could we trust him? He could be one of the bad guys. He could be a good guy. I didn’t know for certain. With the glare from the lights, I couldn’t even see him. If I could see his face, I could probably judge better whether to trust him. I finally decided that I needed to trust him because there seemed nothing else to do.
The Sheriff turned off the spotlight. He stood by the open driver side door of his SUV, which was parked crossways in the street. The front end pointed nearly directly at us. We cautiously came around to the passenger side door. Even though I was unarmed and the car afforded little protection, having the vehicle between him and us made me feel a bit more secure. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness again, I saw that the Sheriff had laid his weapon on the roof of the vehicle. Not menacing, but within easy reach if needed. I felt even more secure.
“Sheriff,” I said evenly. “If you aren’t going to kill me or arrest me, then can we please get out of here? Jeff is shooting at us.”
“I’m not going to kill you. And I’m not going to arrest you. And don’t worry about Jeff. I can handle him.”
“Why aren’t you arresting me?” I asked puzzled. “The world seems to think I’m a killer.”
He hesitated briefly before answering, rubbing a hand over the stubble on his chin. “I listened to Jeff and made myself believe you killed Enid. But it just didn’t fit. Sorry, Allison, but your brother lied.”
Allison didn’t say anything because her lips were trembling, squeezed shut to hold back tears. But I saw her head nod once in silent acknowledgement. In the span of a few minutes, two people had said terrible things about Jeff. Those words were tearing her apart inside. She now had to accept this new truth about the monster that was her brother.
“When did you figure that out?” I asked.
“Just now,” he admitted with shame in his voice. “Yesterday I finally took your advice and hiked out to that fence you tried to tell me about last week. I didn’t do anything. Just thought about it. Today I thought about the other things you told me and about Joseph Custer disappearing. And then I asked Allison to show me all the stuff you were reading on the Internet.”
I glanced at her for confirmation. She still fought back tears. She didn’t say anything, but simply nodded. I realized then that Allison had probably also told her brother many of the same things. Just casual conversation at home, telling him about her day. Not her fault. She had unwittingly fed information to Jeff about my activities. It might even have contributed to me being imprisoned in the valley. Not her fault. I didn’t know if she realized that possibility, but now was not the time for that discussion.
The Sheriff hung his head and sighed heavily. “Then when Allison’s neighbors started calling to say Jeff was shooting at you and Allison….well, I finally realized there were problems with Jeff’s story. I was going to check it all out in the morning.” He paused again. “I’ve been such an old fool.”
“Sheriff, there’s no time for this. We have bigger problems. Jeff is after us, and he has about twenty friends who are looking to kill me. So can we just get out of here?”
“Don’t worry. I can handle Jeff,” he said, falling back on his laid-back ways.
“What about the twenty other guys? Can you handle all of them, too?”
“No,” he said slowly. “No, I can’t.”
“Then let’s get out of here,” I said forcefully. His inaction was going to get us killed. “Now!” That came out sounding like a command.
The Sheriff hesitated only for a moment and then said, “Get in.”