Page 125 of Obsession

Gordon sat down hard in the chair beside the bar and stared at the floor. A grandfather clock in the corner ticked off minutes as Sam waited him out. After five minutes, the doctor’s shoulders slumped and he exhaled hard.

“You want to tell me about it?” Sam asked.

“I don’t remember everything,” he said, his voice low. “I remember riding in the front seat, with Ryan and Mary Jo in the back. They were making out ... we parked, must’ve been at Loess Bluff. Music. I remember hearing dance music. And Mary Jo laughing. Then Trey was shaking me, waking me up. He said Ryan and Mary Jo were dead, and he’d called his dad.”

“Did Trey see who shot Ryan?”

“No. He said he’d left them to answer the call of nature. He heard the shots. When he got back to where Ryan was, he was dead and Mary Jo was gone. When Sheriff Carter got there, he reamed us both out good. Sobered me up.” His voice trailed off. “I think I need another drink.”

“No, you need to get this off your chest. Why did you bury Ryan and not Mary Jo?” When Gordon hesitated, Sam said, “If you didn’t kill either one and you’re worried about going to jail, pretty sure the statute of limitations has run out on obstruction of justice.”

Gordon’s face showed that was exactly what he was worried about. “It was all the sheriff’s idea,” he said. “He was afraid if word got out that Trey was even at the scene of Mary Jo’s death, it would cost Carter the election. Her murder almost did.

“He planned it all. Trey knew how to get the keys to the backhoe, and we buried Ryan at Mount Locust because the backhoewas handy. When we went back for Mary Jo’s body, the hunters had found her.

“While Sheriff Carter dealt with them, Trey drove Ryan’s Mustang to Memphis and I followed in Trey’s pickup. It didn’t take long for the car to get stripped.” He looked up. “Who do you think killed Trey?”

Before Sam could answer, his cell phone rang. Merit Health? “Excuse me,” he said and swiped the answer button. “This is Ryker.”

“Mr. Ryker, this is Sandra Wyatt’s nurse at Merit Health. Ms. Wyatt is awake and very insistent about speaking to you.”

“I’ll be right there.” Once the nurse gave him the room number, Sam hung up and eyed Gordon. “I have to leave, but before I go, do you remember who Mary Jo came to the Hideaway with that night?”

The doctor frowned. “I had forgotten she was with someone. I can’t recall who it was, but maybe if I think about it...”

“I’ll be in touch. But in the meantime, if I were you, I’d watch my back.”

69

Nausea crept up into Emma’s throat. She was going to be sick, but instinct told her not to move. Where was she? Lying on something, for sure. The smell of leather. She was in a car or, judging by the rough ride, more than likely a pickup. One with a back seat.

Emma tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were so heavy.Think.She couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried. It was like a fog bank had rolled into her head, one that only odors could penetrate.

Suddenly Emma realized she wasn’t alone. Of course she wasn’t—she was lying in the back seat of a vehicle. Why had it taken this long to realize that? Had she been drugged? That was the only answer.Regroup. Take deep breaths and maybe the fog will lift.At least the noisy tires covered her breathing as she sucked in air.

Her nose itched, and Emma scratched it. Her hands weren’t bound!Okay. Make a plan.But first she had to figure out what was going on. What was the last thing she remembered? Sam. She’d been angry at him. But somehow, she didn’t think she was now. Was he driving?

No. She didn’t know how she knew it, but Sam wasn’t anywhere near her, and whoever had put her in this truck was dangerous. Maybe she could talk to him, reason with him—how did she know it was a man? A shadowy memory surfaced. Corey.It all came flooding back. He’d stopped by her apartment with coffee to celebrate something ... then she got a phone call from Melanie. Her mouth got drier. Corey had been living and working in Natchez when Mary Jo was murdered.

Where was he taking her? Maybe she could talk to him. Get him to turn her loose. Uh. No. She had the advantage of surprise as long as he didn’t know she was awake. Emma felt on the floorboard for any kind of weapon she could use when they stopped, and her fingers closed on a round piece of steel. Tire iron.

The truck slowed, and the melody of a song floated from the audio system. Whitney Houston singing, “I will always love you.”

70

Sam turned into the hospital on two wheels and parked next to the entrance. Instead of waiting for the elevator, he took the stairs two steps at a time. It was a little after ten, and family members who were staying the night in the waiting room were arranging for places to sleep. He crossed the room and was immediately buzzed inside the unit.

“Is Ms. Wyatt still awake?” Sam asked when he reached her room.

“She’s in and out, but go on in. She’s asked to see you as soon as you arrive.”

Sam stepped inside the room. Sandra Wyatt lay hooked up to wires and tubes, but she turned toward him. “Good, you came. My dad ... how...”

“I don’t know. Earlier today I was told he was holding his own. I don’t think there’s been any change.” He stepped closer to the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been shot.” She managed a tiny smile below the nasal cannula. “Have you found the person responsible?”

He shook his head. “We’re working on it. Sheriff Rawlings would be here, but he’s tied up on another case tonight. He’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “The nurse said you had something to tell me.”

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