The Bridge to Nowhere

By Kay Williamson

When a prosecuting attorney, practicing in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, is murdered at The Bridge to Nowhere, Angie Lewis, her legal secretary, teams up with Sheriff Wayne Meyer to find the killer.

There is a long list of suspects, starting with the D.A.'s two eccentric sisters, an abusive ex-husband, and two released prisoners who had threatened her.

After Angie begins to receive threatening phone calls and a fire is deliberately set in her front yard, the town of Gary is once again shocked when another woman is found murdered at the bridge.

As the sheriff and Angie work together they are becoming strongly attracted to each other. But in spite of the sheriff's attempts to protect her, will Angie become the next victim at The Bridge to Nowhere?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 16, 2002
• ISBN: 9781469789446

Kay Williamson

Kay has been published in various literary anthologies, a national magazine, and served as Feature Editor of East Carolina University's weekly newspaper for two years. A former elementary teacher, Kay and her husband, Don, reside in Florida and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Marcie Johnson, the attractive young prosecuting attorney of Johnson County, discerned, too late, that it was not the kind of evening to be driving on an almost deserted highway. Through rapidly swishing windshield wipers, she anxiously watched streaks of lightning, pelting rain, and dancing wind-tossed trees. The next day’s newspaper headline would declare it to be the worst fall storm of the year for the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Once again, she peered into the rear-view mirror and saw how closely the car behind her was following, and instinctively knew something was not right. Panic seized her when she realized that if she stopped suddenly, the car behind would plow into her. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her palpitating heart, and felt herself perspiring in spite of the cool autumn evening. Noticing the absence of a yellow line, she lifted her foot from the accelerator, hoping the car behind might pass. It didn’t. I’m just overreacting, she lectured herself. Maybe I wouldn ‘t want to pass anyone, either, on this wet slippery pavement. When she pushed down firmly on the accelerator, her old car picked up speed for a few seconds, then sputtered and jerked before it came to a complete halt. Oh hell, now what? she muttered, and glanced at the gas indicator. It was on empty. It can’t be, she wailed, I just filled the tank last evening. Once again, she looked into the rear-view mirror and saw that the car behind had also stopped, but the occupant of the car was not getting out. Her thoughts were swirling like the leaves blowing off the rain-soaked trees. Surely, if the person who’s been following me planned to offer help, he would have jumped out by now. Then a new thought hit her like the bolt of lightning that suddenly flashed across the sky. Someone had tampered with her gas tank and had followed her, knowing she’d be trapped in her car. And she knew, of at least, two people who wanted her dead. Lawrence Stephenson, the man she’d convicted of armed robbery, five years ago, should be getting out of prison about now and he’d threatened to kill her when he was released. Could there be another released prisoner wanting revenge? Possibly, but how about her ex-husband Bob? Her former wife-abusing husband had also sworn to kill her if she didn’t go back to him.

Marcie’s breath came even faster when she remembered she’d changed purses and left her cell phone at home. Should she lock the doors and get down on the floor, or would it be better to make a run for it in the dark? She was a pretty good runner...maybe she could lose him in the woods. She grabbed her small flashlight thinking that if she lost the perpetrator and needed to find her way out of the woods again, she’d be able to see. She flung open the car door, jumped down on the soggy terrain, and started running. She didn’t look back when she heard the other car door slam and wished she could take the time to remove her heels, but she didn’t dare. Not being able to see clearly, she bumped headlong into a tree. But he can ‘t see any better than I can, she thought quickly glancing back. She was wrong! He had a flashlight and was gaining on her. Her thoughts were racing as fast as her heart. If he can see me with his flashlight, I might as well use mine. She turned on her small flashlight and continued to run through the thick forest. Then she spotted a bridge and stopped momentarily to kick off her shoes. Feeling the hard wood against her stocking feet, she winced while picking up speed. Her heart lurched when she abruptly came to a halt, for the bridge had come to an end. Oh, God! It’s The Bridge to Nowhere! She stared down at the cold murky water with a sinking heart. She couldn’t swim and she couldn’t turn around. She was trapped! Deciding that she might as well face her assailant, she whipped around and held up the flashlight.

When she saw who it was, and the gun pointing straight at her she yelled, Oh, no! Why? Why are you doing this? Please...I beg you...can’t we talk this over?

Turn around, an angry voice commanded.

Turning around, Marcie pleaded, Please...please don’t— A crash of thunder drowned out the last words Marcie Johnson would ever speak.

CHAPTER 2

Marcie Johnson’s legal secretary glanced at her watch again. Twenty-six years old, blond, bright, pretty, and trim, Angie Lewis had worked for Marcie for three years. Ten minutes after ten, she murmured, feeling a bit anxious. As they were leaving the office at five p.m. yesterday, Marcie had mentioned that she wanted to get an early start the next morning because she had a court appearance at ten thirty and needed to finish a brief she’d been working on. She’d also mentioned that she planned to run up to Marquette to visit a college roommate, but didn’t intend to spend the night. I’ll call her at her house, Angie decided, reaching for the phone. Maybe she got in late last night and just overslept. Or perhaps she decided to stay over; it was a terrible storm last night. After six rings, the answering service came on. She decided not to leave a message and got up and walked to the window. While wondering what to do next, the phone rang. Angie hoped it would be Marcie saying she was on her way to work. She rushed back to her desk and picked up the phone. District Attorney’s office. How may I help you?

Hi, Angie. This is Wayne Meyer.

Wayne Meyer, the sheriff of Johnson County, had called the office quite a few times since Angie had started working there, but her heart skipped a beat when she heard his voice today. Her instinct told her that he was calling about Marcie. Wayne? What is it? Has Marcie had an accident?

So Marcie isn’t there, right?

No, and she said she was coming in early because she had work to finish before her appearance in court at ten thirty. What’s going on?

We’re not sure exactly what’s going on, the six foot three sheriff answered, raking his fingers through his wavy brown hair. One of my deputies found Marcie’s old clunker parked on the side of the road, this morning, close to Lake Kingsley. As you know, it was quite a storm last night and at first we thought she might have just pulled off to wait until the storm passed, but it looks like she ran out of gas.

Ran out of gas? That’s not like Marcie, Wayne. Besides, I remember her commenting that when she’d filled her tank, the night before, that the cost of gas had gone up again. Perhaps she had car trouble. That car of hers is really old, but she said she didn’t want to give it up because it would be like giving up an old friend.

Yeah. I’ve heard her say that before, and it is possible that she did have car trouble, the sheriff answered, "and I agree it’s not at all like Marcie to run out of gas. We think another car must have stopped behind her. There were signs of tire marks in the wet soil, though the rain had washed away most of the marks. We followed her footprints until they ran into the grass and know someone definitely got out of the other car because we found another set of partly obliterated footprints following her’s. There were a few broken branches and stomped down grass leading to The Bridge to Nowhere, on Lake Kingsley. You know, the bridge that was built in the sixties and never finished because the county ran out of money.

Angie swallowed hard. Yes, I’m familiar with that unfinished bridge. Are you trying to tell me that you think something has happened to Marcie? She dreaded hearing the answer.

We’re not sure yet, Angie, but it doesn’t look good. Her shoes were found at the foot of the bridge. We believe she’d taken them off.

Taken them off? Oh, God, Wayne! Marcie can’t swim. Do you think she fell into the lake?

It’s a possibility, of course, but she might have been pushed into the lake by someone who was following her.

Angie sat down and took a deep breath. Wayne had been painting a portentous picture and she didn’t want to look at it. She felt nauseous. It sounds like you think Marcie is dead from drowning or other means! She heard him sigh.

As I said, we don’t know what to think just now. I was hoping that maybe she’d made it to the office.

Oh, God. I hope nothing has happened to her! She’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. Have you called her two sisters?

I was able to talk to Carole at the library. She seemed very upset when I told her about Marcie’s abandoned car and our suspicions. She hadn’t seen Marcie for a few days, but was supposed to have dinner with her tonight. I didn’t try to get in touch with the younger sister, Edna.

Images of Marcie’s two sisters flitted across Angie’s vision. Edna was a big muscular woman, who worked at the local bakery. She wore her hair short, cut like a man’s, and her voice had become noticeably deeper this past year. Carole, head librarian at the Johnson County Library, styled her hair in the forties mode, and her clothes reflected the fashion of that era also. Sorry Wayne, I guess I zoomed out for a few seconds, Angie said. Do you remember the man that Marcie sent up for armed robbery about ten years ago? Lawrence some-thing-or-other...I can’t remember his last name right now.

I know exactly who you’re talking about. Lawrence Stephenson was his name. I remember it because he became so violent in the courtroom and threatened Marcie.

Angie’s face was glum. He could be out of prison by now.

It’s certainly possible. And if something has happened to Marcie, you can be sure he’ll be the first person we’ll talk to...that is, if he has been released from prison.

Angie swiveled back and forth in her chair. And don’t forget her ex-husband Bob—that wife-abusing bastard! She fought back tears of anger and frustration. I’ve listened to Marcie, on more than one occasion, describe his mental and physical cruelty...the rich CEO of the biggest paper company in the U. P. and Mr. Nice Guy to everyone except Marcie. But then he was nice to her too, before she married him. I know for a fact that he threatened to kill her if she didn’t come back to him. Of course, she didn’t go back to him and even took back her maiden name. She released her clenched fist. I pray that she’ll show up and explain where’s she’s been. Angie picked up the worried expression in Wayne’s voice when he answered.

I’m praying for the same thing, Angie. I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear anything. Guess you’d better cancel that court appointment with Judge Raffin though.

Yes, I’ll do that right now.

And Angie, if you hear of anything or think of anything that might give us some answers, please let me know right away.

You can be sure I will, Wayne.

Angie hung up the phone with a heavy heart. From what Wayne had told her, it would be a miracle if Marcie showed up alive. She called Judge Raffin’s office, dreading the words she would have to speak. Suddenly, she wasn’t able to hold back the threatening tears. When Angie heard the judge’s secretary pick up the phone, she could hardly talk.

CHAPTER 3

Wayne Meyer had been the sheriff of Johnson County for the last five years. Native of the fifteen thousand, or so, populated town of Gary, which happened to be the county seat, he’d been well known for his basketball and football athleticism. He’d attended college on a football scholarship and had majored in physical education, but after teaching for two years, he decided it wasn’t for him and enrolled in the police academy. He enjoyed his work as a highway patrolman and when many of the citizens of Gary asked him to run for sheriff, he accepted. The former sheriff had let things go to pot and there had been some talk of womanizing on the job, so Wayne had won the election hands down. He’d gained the respect of most of the people in Gary and loved his job. He’d been engaged to his high school sweetheart, but broke it off when he’d found her cheating on him. Since then, he’d dated quite a few women but none of them lived up to his expectations. As an only child, born late in the couple’s marriage, his mom and dad had doted on him and still did. He spent every Sunday with them, and looked forward to the scrumptious food his mother lovingly prepared. Owner and manager of the town’s only hardware store, his dad was almost ready to retire, and his mom would retire from teaching in another year. He and his dad were close and enjoyed hunting and fishing whenever they had the chance. He considered himself to be very lucky, and would have laughed if he’d known he was considered to be the town’s most eligible bachelor.

Wayne hung up the phone with his thoughts lingering on Angie. She seemed like a really nice person. He’d always enjoyed talking to her when he’d called Marcie’s office. Once he had thought about asking her out, but Angie was a member of the country club set. Not that there was anything wrong with those people, but he simply didn’t feel all that comfortable with them. His family was respected, and could have afforded membership in the club, but his mom and dad didn’t golf and enjoyed the simple things of life. Wayne did also. One thing his family shared was the love of reading. You’ll never be bored in life as long as you love to read, his mom had instructed when he started school. And she had been right. He’d never been bored and he devoured books; that’s how he’d gotten acquainted with Marcie’s sister Carole, the head librarian. Carole seemed as sweet as Marcie. She’d always taken the time to chat with him and led him to the latest bestsellers whenever he picked up a book at the library, which was on an average of two times a week. She was attractive, but not as pretty as Marcie, and was extremely neat and proper. She did dress a little old fashioned, with a lot of white ruffled collars and her dresses appeared longer than most women wore. Her hairstyle was a bit strange also. He’d never seen her with a man, and as the oldest sister, she was probably considered to be an old maid by now. But that younger sister Edna, now she was altogether something else. You’d never know she could be related to Carole or Marcie. A stranger could mistake her for a man. He didn’t see her often, but she appeared more masculine each time he saw her, and her voice was definitely getting deeper. He turned from the window abruptly, feeling a little guilty at having spent a few minutes thinking of something that wasn’t related to Marcie’s case, then realized that Marcie’s sisters were related to the case; after all, they were her sisters. He sighed deeply and picked up his hat. He’d done all he could here, so now he’d go out to The Bridge to Nowhere and see what he could do there.

Three hours later, Wayne and two other policemen found Marcie’s body floating in the water, about a mile from the bridge. Even though he’d held his job for five years, he’d never gotten used to brutal murder. It seemed much worse when you knew the murdered person, and especially someone as sweet as Marcie. It didn’t seem fair. When he felt his eyes stinging, he cleared his throat. Okay, Tom. You call the coroner and I’ll notify the family, but I’d rather take a beating than to make these phone calls. Then he had an idea. Perhaps Angie would help him, and anyway, it seemed kinder to talk to her face to face. He’d go to her office to give her the bad news.

Angie looked up when she heard someone enter the office. When she saw the expression on Wayne’s face, she knew the news was not good. She stood and braced for the worst. You’ve heard something, haven’t you?

Wayne took off his hat and held it in front of him like men did when they went to funerals. "Yes, I’m afraid so, Angie. We found Marcie’s body about a mile from The Bridge to Nowhere. The currents must have taken her there during the storm. At this point, it looks like she drowned. But there’s a big lump and abrasion on her head, so someone could have hit her with something and then pushed her into the lake. Of course she could have fallen in by herself and then hit her head on something, though I don’t think that’s likely. I believe she was hit with the butt handle of a gun."

Angie felt woozy. Even though she was expecting to hear the worst, it didn’t make it any easier. Shaking her head she whispered, Oh, my God. This time she couldn’t stop the flow of tears that spilled down her cheeks.

Wayne walked over to her and gently gathered her into his arms. Patting her back, he murmured, Let it all out, Angie.it will make you feel better. Two men have threatened her, and the police weren’t able to do a thing...not a damn thing! You can be sure I’ll get to the bottom of this if it takes the rest of my life.

Angie attempted to talk through her sobs. I want to help you, Wayne, and to assist you in any way I can. As a legal secretary, I think I have the skills, and you must know I have the motivation. Please let me help you.

I can use all the help I can get—that is, if it won’t put your life in danger. If there’s a murderer on the loose, it’s no telling what he’d do if he thought someone might be getting close. I wouldn’t want to have two murders on my hands. I feel badly enough about not being able to prevent Marcie’s murder.

Angie pulled back and gazed into Wayne’s earnest brown eyes. What could you have done, Wayne? You did appoint a policeman to watch Marcie’s house, for a few weeks after her divorce, though she just recently mentioned that Bob had threatened her again. She also told me, just last week, that she needed to check on the date of Lawrence Stephenson’s release, but to my knowledge, she never got around to it. Now I wish I’d done it for her.

Wayne nodded. Why don’t we make a pact? You don’t blame yourself for anything concerning Marcie, and I won’t either. There was really nothing we could have done unless we’d known what was going to happen. The blame game has never changed anything. We’d be better off to put our energies into finding out who murdered our friend.

Wayne’s comments helped assuage the guilt Angie had been harboring, and she answered gratefully, Thanks. I needed that.

Wayne turned his hat around and around. Angie, you can help me do something right now. Would you accompany me to the library? I need your support when I inform Carole about her sister. I know they were close.

Angie pulled out her desk drawer and fished around for a tissue. She dabbed at her eyes, then blew her nose. Of course I’ll go with you. I was thinking about taking the rest of the day off, anyway. I’m too upset to concentrate on anything. She glanced around the office as if she half expected to see Marcie. It’s still so difficult for me to comprehend. She felt her eyes filling and she dabbed at them again.

Try not to think about that right now, Angie. Just try to get through this day. Okay?

Angie could read the sympathy in his face and thought it rare to find a man with such sensitivity. At least, she’d never found a man with such deep feeling. That was one of the reasons she was still single. You’re right. Let me get my coat, and I’ll be right with you. That storm, last evening, must have ushered in a cold front. She opened the closet and pulled out her coat. Okay, I’m ready. Shall we both drive?

That’s a good idea. I may get a call and need to leave in a hurry. I’ll wait for you in front of the library. Okay? Wayne asked, walking towards the door.

Okay, Angie answered. She didn’t relish telling Carole about her sister. She knew that Marcie and Carole had, seemingly, had a good relationship. At least, Carole could tell Edna about Marcie’s death. She suddenly recalled a conversation that she’d just had with Marcie a few days ago. Marcie had mentioned that Edna had asked her to go into their trust and give her the amount that their parents had left to her. The trust stipulated that Edna would receive a substantial amount of money on her thirtieth birthday, and Edna was only twenty-nine. Both Carole and Marcie were over thirty, so they had already received their share of the trust. When Marcie said she couldn’t break the trust, Edna had really blown up and cursed at her. Marcie said it actually frightened her...that she’d never seen Edna that angry, and when she’d asked Edna why she needed the money, she had picked up a vase and had thrown it at her.

In deep thought, Angie locked the door and dropped the office key into her purse. Could Edna have been angry enough to kill? Like Wayne, Angie was an only child and had desperately wanted a sister when she was growing up. She knew that if she’d been lucky enough to have a sister, she couldn’t imagine wanting to murder her for any reason! She also knew she was jumping to conclusions. If she were going to help Wayne find Marcie’s killer, she’d better not do that, but later, she would tell Wayne about the argument.

When Wayne opened the heavy library door for Angie and followed her inside, he noticed Carole standing behind the counter doing something with books. Taking Angie’s arm, he propelled her towards the counter. This wasn’t going to be easy, even with Angie’s help. He met Carole’s fearful eyes and feeling completely helpless, he watched as she placed her hand over her heart.

It’s about Marcie, isn’t it?

Carole had spoken so quietly that Wayne had hardly heard her. I’m afraid so, Carole. Can we go somewhere and talk?

Carole nodded and led them to a room with a large table and chairs, then turned towards Wayne with a sad expression. I’ve been expecting the worst since you called this morning.

We found her in Lake Kingsley, Carole, Wayne said gently. It looks like she drowned.

Angie held out her arms and Carole fell into them. Both women cried for a few minutes as Wayne, wishing he could cry, helplessly looked on.

When Carole pulled back, Angie reached into her purse and handed the distraught sister one of her tissues. I’m so very sorry, Carole. It’s such a shock. I’m not handling it very well either.

Carole’s dabbed at her eyes. There’s so much I want to know, but that can wait. Edna should be home as it’s after one. Though we live in the same house, we don’t see a lot of each other.

Wayne pictured the Johnson House, as it was called. It was a huge house and had been built by the three sister’s grandparents who had left it to Marcie’s parents. Then later, it had been left to the sisters when their parents had died. The wealthy and distinguished Johnson family had been one of the founders of Gary, and the county had been named for them. Even the township of Gary had been named after the grandfather whose first name was Gary. Wayne briefly wondered what the family would have thought about Marcie’s murder. It was a good

thing they would never know. His thoughts scattered when he heard Angie speaking.

Carole, please let me drive you home. I can pick up your car later.

I’d appreciate that, Angie.

Wayne was, once again, turning his hat around and around. It was a mannerism that indicated he was most uncomfortable, but he wasn’t aware he was doing it. When you feel like it, call me, Carole, and I’ll explain what we think happened.

I just want to know one thing right now, Wayne. Do you think she was murdered?

Yes. There’s a lot of evidence that points to it.

Carole held on to the large table. I thought so. I remember her being threatened by some of the men she sent to prison; or it could have been that bastard ex-husband of hers!

You can be sure we’ll find out who killed her, Carole. I’ll talk to one of your coworkers and tell them you’re leaving with Angie, Wayne said softly.

"Thank