Hidden Motive

by Alexander, Hannah

  “Maybe Grandpa had the ore analyzed there, compared it to an existing analysis of Number Three, and found them to be too similar.” She looked more closely at the pictures. “Then he came home and figured out how to salt the cavern below so he could see if it looked similar to the Seitz mine. That’s something he would do.”

  Murph was impressed. Sable knew her grandfather well. “I think that sounds like a plausible explanation. Much more acceptable than taking this note at face value.”

  They sorted through more papers, then Sable pulled out a thick manila folder labeled “Boswell Enterprises, Inc.”

  Murph peered over her shoulder. “I didn't know the boss had another corporation.”

  She opened the folder and found a stack of photocopies.

  Murph recognized them as worker’s comp reports. There was a sticky note at the bottom of each copy. “Not filed. Not filed. Not filed.”

  Sable shuffled through the pages until she came to a sheet with her signature at the bottom.

  “They didn’t turn these in,” Murph said.

  “You asked me about that,” Sable said. “You were right.”

  He had never been less pleased about being proved right. “The workers must have been paid by the company for wages lost or there’d have been an outcry.”

  Sable thumbed through several other pages with notes jotted in Josiah’s distinctive handwriting. “Craig told me Boswell resorted to blackmail in the past. This looks like Grandpa was keeping a history on everything he saw that wasn’t kosher.” She handed the copy to Murph and held the next page to the light. “Look at this.”

  “It's a list of people who died from accidents in the past six years.”

  “Mining accidents?” she asked.

  “No.” He pointed to one. “This was an automobile accident. Here’s one who fell into a grain elevator.”

  “Here's the name of a friend of mine who worked for Boswell in the office,” Sable said. “She was supposed to have died in a car wreck.”

  “So many auto accidents? That’s too coincidental.” Murph looked at the next stack of stapled pages. The top copy was of a ledger sheet. Scrawled across the top in Josiah’s writing were the words “Special Ops.”

  “Sable, this is why he and Noah died,” Murph said softly. “Boswell learned Josiah was collecting information. I heard a rumor about a week after I started working at the clinic, but it turned out that the person who told me the rumor was a notorious gossip, so I dismissed what he said.”

  “Something else about Grandpa?”

  “No. Did you ever meet the doctor you replaced at the clinic?”

  “Heidlage? They said he retired.”

  “Who said?”

  “I think…Otis Boswell. Oh no, don’t tell me he died.”

  “He had complained about the number of mining accident victims presenting to the clinic. Then he attempted to standardize emergency procedures for mining accidents. He started researching the past accidents, even went so far as to visit one of the mines. He spoke to several of the ambulance personnel. Then all of a sudden he left.”

  “He quit? Or are you saying he was—”

  “He gave notice and was gone in two weeks. He never said a word to anyone else, never explained why he was leaving.”

  “It was mentioned a couple of times in the office,” Sable said. “I didn’t think much about it, either.”

  “Maybe it’s something we need to think about,” he said, thumbing through the worker’s comp copies. “Have you noticed that none of these reports are about anything serious? Someone wishing to prevent an investigation by OSHA would keep reports to a minimum, particularly those for which the medical costs and sick leave could be paid out of company coffers.”

  “I’ve heard several of the men complain about the safety conditions,” Sable said. “But they get good pay, better than most other miners in the country. They’ll keep their mouths shut for that much money.”

  “Someone on our clinic staff might even have been paid to pull the reports we filed,” Murph said. “And Josiah discovered it. Who knows, maybe Heidlage even told him about it, since Josiah was one of Otis’s business partners. That could be when Josiah began to check things out a little more closely.”

  Sable touched the lump on her head. “So we’re in danger because my grandfather was trying to uphold the law, not break it.”

  “Still think you can handle a gun?”

  “Yes.”

  “Could you shoot someone if you had to?”

  She hesitated. “Could you?”

  “I worked as a medic for a mining company that had holdings in Colombia. They sent me there once, armed to protect myself against drug runners who were operating near our company. We…had a run-in. It was either shoot or be shot. I didn’t kill but I did maim. I’ll never forget it. Believe me, shooting a human being isn't easy. What if our killer turns out to be Jerri? Or Craig? Even Audrey?”

  She closed her eyes.

  He held the pages up. “We’ve found what we're looking for.”

  “We'll never get out of here with it.”

  “I'm the pessimist here, remember?”

  “All of a sudden everything's changed.”

  He felt the soft warmth of her breath against his cheek. “I know. I have even more reason to want to live now.”

  She rested her forehead against his shoulder.

  “This could become addictive,” Murph said.

  “You mean the terror of running for our lives?”

  “I mean learning to depend on each other.”

  “Sable?” came a feminine voice from below. “Sable Chamberlin? Are you up there?” It was Audrey. “Dinner.”

  Chapter 24

  That evening, oil lamps flickered on the shelves of the upper hallway and a scent of vanilla drifted through the air. Flames danced downstairs in the fireplace beneath a mantel decorated with three glowing candles. The house radiated warmth. Audrey and Jerri had done a good job.

  Sable walked down the stairway beside Murph. Except for a lingering headache, she felt fine physically. The strange and frightening episode of blindness had not recurred.

  Special Ops.

  “I’m not hungry,” she muttered to Murph.

  “You haven’t eaten since breakfast. You’ll feel better with something in your stomach and Audrey says there’s a surprise for dinner.”

  “Are we ready for another surprise?” Mining accidents.

  His hand tightened on her arm and he stopped and turned to her. “Speaking of surprises, maybe Craig is right. Maybe we should tell the others. This thing is getting out of hand. It isn’t right to withhold information from those who could be affected.”

  “As you said, it’s not right to endanger their lives by cluing in our stalker that we know.” Unfiled worker’s comp reports.

  “Your grandfather collected all the evidence against Boswell without telling you what he was up to. He wanted to protect you but by trying to protect you he ultimately ended up placing you in worse danger.”

  “I understand what you’re saying but this is a different situation. If we tell everyone else about our stalker, we’ll also be telling the stalker since we don’t know who it is. Let’s see what happens tonight.”

  They entered the kitchen-dining area, where Audrey and Perry stood at the stove arguing amiably about the use of herbs. Bryce and Craig sat at the dining table sharing details of their excursion into the cave this morning. Simmons sat at the end of the table with his back to the wall, silent.

  “How’s the goose egg?” Craig asked Sable as she took a seat across from him.

  “It’s more of a robin egg now,” she said. Audrey came to the table with a huge covered platter. She set it on the table and stepped back. “You won't believe who cooked tonight’s dinner.” She gestured grandly toward Perry Chadwick, who stood beside the kitchen counter. “Our water carrier. He's a chef, complete with cookbooks! He was on his way to a chef’s challenge cook-off at Big Cedar.”
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  “Big Cedar, huh?” Jerri leaned back to get a better look at Perry, her red hair gleaming bronze in the candlelight. “They’re having a cooking contest in the middle of winter?”

  Perry nodded. “Covered live from Springfield’s Channel 33. If I win, I travel to St. Louis for the regional next month.”

  Jerri glanced at Simmons. “And you’re on your way to Harrison, Arkansas?”

  “Not by choice,” the man grumbled. “My mom’s in Fayetteville but my sister wants me to go to her house in Harrison, get her car and drive it to Fayetteville. That’s how I got into this crazy situation in the first place.”

  Sable exchanged glances with Murph. Simmons hadn’t been on the wrong bus after all.

  Audrey whisked the cover from the large platter of food. “Venison with mushroom sauce, garlic potato pancakes, green beans with herbed almonds, handmade croissants.”

  Perry pulled off his apron and held a chair for Audrey. “Time to dine.”

  As the others passed the semi-gourmet fare around the table, Sable sipped her water and surreptitiously studied her guests.

  Audrey beamed at Perry as if he were her own freshly hatched chick. “You could have told me you were a chef.”

  Perry chuckled. “I’m an amateur. I have a lot to learn.”

  Jerri served herself and passed the platter. “An amateur is someone who does something simply for the love of it.”

  Perry patted his belly. “Guilty as charged.”

  “Now Perry, don't be too hard on yourself,” Audrey chided. “I bet you've built up some muscle carrying all that water.”

  “Your coordination is improving, too,” Jerri observed. “I saw you actually carry wood in from the pile beside the front porch without falling on the ice.”

  Perry served himself small portions. “I'm not doing as well as Craig. He practically skated all the way to the bridge and back today.”

  Simmons looked up from his food. “The bridge?”

  “I thought we might have to get Sable to a hospital after her fall,” Craig said. “The ice is thick, and the bridge tilts dangerously. It would have to be cleared before we could leave.”

  “We seldom used that bridge,” Sable said. “It’s so much farther out that way.”

  “But not as steep,” Craig said. “I thought I might go out and try my hand at chopping after dinner.”

  “Who said anything about leaving?” Simmons asked.

  Craig gave Sable a pointed look. She held his gaze.

  “I’m not going anywhere on this ice,” Audrey announced. “I’ve had too many bad weather experiences in these Ozark hills. We simply can’t afford any more emergencies.”

  “Sable, are you sure you’re doing okay?” Jerri asked. “If we need to get you to medical care—”

  “It’s a possibility,” she said. “I seemed to have some visual disturbances when I was in the cave.”

  “Somebody else was down there,” Bryce said slowly. “I heard you, Murph. You told Craig somebody attacked you.”

  The room fell into stunned silence.

  “Attacked?” Audrey cried.

  There was a moment of chaos as several tried to talk at once. The dinner was forgotten.

  “Everyone please calm down.” Murph’s deep voice carried over the others. “We apparently did have an extra spelunker in the cave this morning.” He described the incident briefly. “It’s possible someone was exploring the pit and didn’t want to be disturbed. When we arrived they might have felt it was necessary to jump us so they could get away unseen.”

  Perry set his water glass down with a clatter. “That’s drastic action to avoid a simple citation for trespassing.”

  Simmons looked from face to face around the table, eyes narrowed to slits, face paling.

  “Is there another entrance to the cave?” Jerri asked. “Surely it couldn’t have been one of us—”

  “Tell them, Sable,” Craig said. “They know this much, they need to know it all.”

  She could have cut a hole through Craig with her glare. He looked away.

  “Sable?” Jerri said. “Is there something else going on?”

  “Someone also pushed Sable over the side of the cliff the other night,” Craig said. “She didn’t slip on the ice. And that ‘accident’ Murph had in the woods yesterday was no accident. Sable saw someone throw a log at him.”

  “Sable?” Audrey said. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

  “We didn’t want mass panic on our hands,” Murph said. “And we knew someone was dangerous but we didn’t know whom.”

  “And you do now?” Audrey asked, glancing around the table.

  “No.” Sable tucked her napkin beneath the edge of her plate. “It could be anyone here. It seems someone followed us here to stop us from finding evidence about crimes committed in Freemont.”

  “Murders,” Craig added.

  Audrey gasped.

  Sable glared at Craig. “You’re making it worse.”

  “There’s been too much covered up already,” Craig said.

  “Murders!” Audrey exclaimed. “Are you saying Josiah was murdered?”

  Sable’s glare found a new victim. The woman was far too familiar with Grandpa’s name.

  “Please,” Murph said, “if you've seen anything that might help, tell Sable or myself. Tell all of us, in fact, right now. From here on out, now that the danger is known, we must take every safety precaution until we can get out of here.”

  “We should all stay close to a group,” Sable said. “And lock our bedroom doors at night.”

  “Oh, that's great,” Perry spluttered. “We’re stuck in the middle of the woods, possibly with a murderer. Where am I supposed to sleep? There's no lock on my door, remember? I'm in the sewing room. What am I supposed to do, nail the door—”

  “Stay in the room with Simmons and me,” Murph said.

  Dinner ended on that note.

  Chapter 25

  Sable picked up a glowing oil lamp from a mirrored shelf in the dining room. “Audrey, may I speak with you for a moment?” Without waiting for a reply, she led the way across the hall and into the cozy family room. Here, bookcases lined the walls and a useless television hovered in darkness in the far southwest corner. She placed the lamp on a sofa table along the wall to her right and closed the door behind the slender, silver-haired woman with suddenly watchful eyes.

  Sable pulled the old photograph of Audrey, Grandpa and Otis Boswell from the pocket of her jeans and held it out. “You never told me you knew my grandfather. I’m curious why.”

  Audrey slowly took the 4X6 from Sable’s fingers and studied it. She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them and met Sable’s gaze. “I’m sorry honey. I’m…it seems you’ve caught me off guard.”

  “How?” By the expression in Audrey’s face, Sable could tell she wouldn’t want to know the answer to her questions, and yet she couldn’t not ask.

  “Believe me,” Audrey said, “if I knew anything that could help, I'd be the first to tell you.”

  Sable waited.

  Audrey turned to gaze around the room. She stepped over to a checkers table between two chairs. “All this is new, so different from the way it looked all those years ago.”

  “You were a friend of my grandparents?”

  Audrey shook her head. “I never knew your grandmother. I was only here once.” She turned again to face Sable. “Your grandfather was a wonderful man.”

  “How well did you know him? I need to know. This could be very important.”

  Audrey stepped once more to the window. “Josiah and I were… good friends once. Can we leave it at that?”

  Sable forgot to breathe. “No we can’t. I need to know as much as possible about my grandfather and Otis. Why were you in that picture with them?”

  Audrey handed the photo back to Sable. “This was a fluke. I worked at a café in Cassville to supplement my teaching salary because I was a widow raising two teenagers. That picture you saw of the thr
ee of us was probably after a high school ballgame. I saw them there often.”

  “So you didn’t know Otis well?”

  “He came to the cafe a couple of times when Josiah was there. Craig’s father also frequented the café.”

  “You knew Reuben?”

  “I knew many of the locals. It’s a tight community, you know. They’d all sit together in the morning at the cafe while I poured coffee and tried to ply them with breakfast to improve business. I taught their kids in school.”

  “So you weren’t all the best of friends?”

  “Far from it.”

  “But you and my grandfather were,” Sable said.

  Audrey didn’t meet her gaze. She sighed. “I’ll tell you this once and only because of the extreme circumstances we’re under. I apologize first, because this is going to hurt like fire, but I…I guess you should know.” She looked at Sable, then turned away. “I was a lonely widow who had been married too long to an abusive alcoholic. I knew your grandmother worked long hours at her restaurant in Eureka Springs and Josiah was lonely. Our friendship got out of hand one afternoon.”

  Sable thought she’d been prepared. She hadn’t. The pain of her grandfather’s betrayal shot through her like a hot knife. She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her teeth together to keep from crying out. How much more was she going to discover before this whole ugly incident ended?

  Audrey continued, her voice soft and filled with sorrow. “Only once, Sable. Afterwards we were both devastated. It never happened again. As I told you, your grandfather was a good man. He learned his lessons well the first time. He loved your grandmother and he loved your mother very much.”

  “Obviously not as much as he needed to.” Sable couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. She bit her lip and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Somehow Otis Boswell found out,” Audrey said. “I don’t know how. But I do know Josiah was always afraid Otis would use that knowledge to his own advantage.”

  “Did he?” Sable asked.

  Audrey spread her hands. “I never knew. I got a teaching job in Sedalia the next year and left the area. I’d discovered my weakness. I loved Josiah more than I’ve ever loved another man. It was too painful to see—”