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Chapter Forty-One

It all seemed a blur with another police vehicle arriving, then the ambulance carrying the EMT personnel who looked familiar to me. I’d experienced several trips to the hospital since Alan and I moved to Aspen Notch, and the two of them recognized me, but we didn’t stand around to chat.

Alan led the EMT’s inside, and I followed behind, keeping my distance. Clare sat on the floor, attending to Damien’s raw leg wound while occasionally checking his pulse. When she saw that help had arrived, she rattled off medical jargon.

From what I understood, he’d lost a lot of blood from the bullet to his leg, and he had a head wound, perhaps due to his fall in the dining room. His breathing was shallow, and she wondered how he’d survived his injuries over the past several days.

“How do you know when this occurred?” one of the EMT’s asked .

“I’m speculating,” she said. “I introduced myself to Damien about five days ago, and he was fine then.”

“What brought you here?” the ambulance driver asked.

“He’s my sister’s brother-in-law, and she’s missing.” Clare pressed his leg harder where a trickle of blood escaped.

One of Damien’s eyes opened and his mouth moved when the EMT put a tourniquet on his leg. The other one was busy with his blood pressure and oxygen levels.

“I think he’s saying something,” I whispered.

“He might be feeling pain,” the EMT lady said. “We need to get him to the hospital STAT.”

Clare nodded in agreement, then tried to stand. I couldn’t imagine how, but Damien gripped her hand and his mouth moved again. “What is it,” she asked, leaning in to listen.

The EMT’s asked her to move so they could transfer him to the gurney. She complied and stepped back to stand with me. By the time Alan came looking for us, she had tears in her eyes.

“What did he say?” I asked.

“I don’t know. It sounded like roof or something.”

“Maybe he said ‘woof,’ like in take care of my dog,” Alan suggested. “Speaking of, where’s Sophie?”

I looked around the first floor, but didn’t see her anywhere. To my chagrin, none of the cops saw her either, and I feared that she’d gone exploring in the fields.

Clare stayed with Damien until he was lifted into the back of the ambulance, then she joined Alan and me to search outside for Sophie. I could only pray that she didn’t wander off to an area that would pose a danger to her—or that she’d jeopardize the local fauna, such as Mr. Sterling’s chickens .

I mentioned my worry aloud, and the three of us headed to the coop. There we found Sophie digging a huge hole in the dirt; something she’d often done in our yard as a puppy.

“No, Sophie,” I yelled.

Alan grabbed her leash and pulled her away. “That’s very bad!” he shouted, using an angry voice.

I stared at the hole, then the area beside it, which appeared to be connected to the chickens’ yard. “What is this?”

I turned to Clare. “Did he say ‘coop?’”

She paused, thinking. “I don’t think so. It had an R-sound, like roof.” She emphasized the R.

Alan cast his eyes to the ground. “Could it have been ‘root,’ like in a root cellar?” Without waiting for a response, he used his hand to search for some sort of handle. When he located it, he tugged to reveal concrete steps.

He called into the dark abyss. “Are you there, Liz?”

We all heard the feeble response. “Is that you, Damien?”

Clare cried, “I’m here, Lizzie.” She stepped forward as if to descend the stairs, but Alan halted her.

“We need the police to secure the site,” he insisted.

Luckily, I noticed two officers preparing to leave, so I ran to catch their attention. “Come quickly,” I called. “I think we found Elizabeth Sterling.”

They rushed to the site, and one of them called, “Identify yourself.”

The faint voice returned, “I’m Liz Sterling. Who are you?”

“We’re the county police, ma’am. Are you alone?”

“I think so, but the lightbulb died so I can’t see and I feel a bit weak. ”

Clare pleaded, “I need to check on my sister!” She didn’t wait for an answer.

Alan handed me Sophie’s leash, then descended the steps with the two cops while explaining to them Clare’s relationship to Liz. “She’s also a physician assistant,” I heard him say, “so she can determine if we need to send for another ambulance.”

Before long, Clare led Liz up the stairs one-by-one, telling her to breathe deeply. One of the officers ran to his patrol car for bottles of water; the other called for emergency transport.

I gazed at the deathly-pale woman who could barely catch her breath, thankful that we had found her before it was too late. I felt emotional watching Clare as she cared for her younger sister, yet the nun looked strong.

“I’m here, Lizzie,” she murmured. “Everything will be okay now. I promise.”

“Damien protected me,” she cried. “If someone came down the lane and I had to go into the cellar, he brought food and water while keeping me company. Then, suddenly, he didn’t come. Is he okay?”

“Someone hurt him,” Clare replied, “but we’ll visit him in the hospital.”

“I was afraid of that.” Weeping, she turned away.

I quickly wiped my eyes so nobody could see my reaction. Watching her, plus my own sense of relief, brought those tears to the surface. We still had so many questions, yet they’d have to wait. For now, Liz was safe.

^^ ^

Clare went to the hospital with her sister, I put Sophie in the back seat of Alan’s SUV, and he helped his county police pals process the scene.

When he finally slid behind the steering wheel, he sighed. “Finding Liz was a miracle!”

“Could we agree that Sophie found her?” I suggested.

He gave a grim chuckle. “I suppose we can.” Glancing at her as she reclined across the back seat, he told her, “You’re really something, girl.”

“It’s a good thing we brought her,” I commented.

Alan gave me a quirky grin. “Don’t push your luck. Anyway, we’ve locked the house and secured the root cellar. One of the cops will return to install a couple security cameras because whoever shot Damien will return to search for Liz.”

“Do we know why?” I asked.

“Nope, nor do we know who did it. We think just one perp, and not a professional.”

“When?” I pressed.

“Maybe twenty-four to forty-eight hours ago. Any longer and they’d have died.”

“Do you think they’ll both make it?”

“Liz will. I don’t know about Damien.”

I took a deep breath, trying to wrap my brain around how anyone could be so despicable. Alan interrupted my thoughts.

“Do you want to stop for a burger or something?” he asked.

I glanced at the dashboard clock. “It’s past three, so I guess we’d better.”

Alan placed our order and we sat in the car to eat. I pulled a French fry out of the bag, but my thoughts stayed on Damien .

“You know,” I mused, “Liz’s brother-in-law once told us he merely followed directions, so someone must have instructed him to hide Liz.”

Alan paused before taking a bite of his burger. “Why?”

“I have no idea, though I suspect Janice Walker.”

“His sister? I guess that’s possible. She’s the one who sent us the anonymous tip.”

I nodded slowly, putting myself into the scene. “Liz met with her on that Saturday morning before Clare’s arrival, and they worked on Ed’s accounts.”

“Right,” Alan agreed. “Afterward, Liz ate lunch and played golf with Lindsey Wiley, went grocery shopping, then took Jane Windsor out to dinner.”

I nodded. “Yes. When she returned the calls she received during their supper at the Black Horse Pub, she connected with her sister-in-law who said Damien needed food. I’d say Janice met them there and insisted that he hide her.”

“Why?” Alan questioned again.

“She must have found something in the ledgers,” I said. “Yes, she told us that, and Liz needed to check on it at the bank.”

“Which she never had a chance to do,” Alan muttered.

“Oh, my gosh,” I exclaimed. “Janice had all of Ed’s account numbers. By convincing Damien to hide Liz in the root cellar, she could siphon the remaining money into her own accounts. Maybe she promised a few extra bucks to her brother.”

“Why offer an anonymous tip?”

I took a sip of soda, thinking. “Because they had a fight and she shot him in the leg with his rifle.”

Alan laughed. “At that close range, she’d have blown off his leg. ”

“I don’t know what she used, but she shot him.” The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became. “We need to inform Mark Matthews to arrest Janice for attempted murder and grand larceny.”

Alan must have concurred since he pressed Mark’s number on his cell phone. “I’d like to report a crime,” he said calmly.

I only hoped we solved the mystery before Ed’s sister took all of his money—and that of his clients. After all, as his obituary reported, he was a good and honest man.