by Mary Bowers
Faye hiked herself up at the family table, which was three times the size of the ones in the other cabins, and took the straw of a juice box into her mouth. She was watching me with big, solemn eyes.
I gave her a reassuring smile and went across to the sofa to sit down beside Gillian. She looked more rattled than her daughter did by then.
“Thank you so much for bringing her back,” she told me. “I can’t believe Mark let her slip away like that. She could have fallen in and drowned.”
“No problem, Gillian. She’s such a little doll.” It was on the tip of my tongue to ask exactly how she’d managed to slip away from her father, but I just couldn’t ask.
She was so angry, she told me anyway. “He’s working. Here we are on vacation, and as soon as we got here, he got an assignment. Faye and I have only had half his attention ever since. One of his associates actually showed up, and while they were talking, Faye got bored and walked off, and neither Mark nor his associate even noticed until she was already gone. If it hadn’t been for you – ”
“Don’t think about it. And Faye wasn’t on the rocks near the water when Loki saw her. She was standing on the grassy area above the rocks. After that, she was with me all the time, totally safe.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“It was nothing. Really. And she’s fine now.”
Gillian gave Faye a watery-eyed look and said, “She’s pretty strong for a little girl, no matter how delicate she looks. She’s got her grandfather’s common sense and her grandmother’s intuition, both. And maybe a streak of independence from me, too. She’s going to be quite a lady someday.”
“And how are you doing, Gillian?” I asked gently. “Things haven’t turned out exactly as you must have thought they would on this trip.”
She laughed bitterly. “You can say that again.”
I wasn’t about to pry into whatever marital problems she was having with Mark. The mystery woman was beginning to sound like the associate from work, but that still didn’t mean he wasn’t having an affair with her, and it would explain why Gillian didn’t like her. All that was none of my business, but I did want some reassurance about Faye.
I angled my head toward the girl and said, “Is she upset about Gerda? She was the last one known to have talked to her, right?”
“She hasn’t mentioned Gerda, and neither have we,” she answered, keeping her voice down. “She knows what happened, of course, but we haven’t really talked about it. It’s weird, the way Gerda knew, though,” she added thoughtfully.
“Knew . . . what?”
“That Faye is special. I’m not just saying that because I’m her mother. I’ve seen her with other children her age. She’s like them, and then again she’s not. She has the special gifts my mother had. And I think she’s got the sight even stronger than my mother did. I think Gerda recognized Faye’s abilities the minute she saw her. She showed a heightened interest in her right away. I think that’s why she wanted Faye to come with her that night.”
“Thank God she didn’t go.”
Gillian had been talking almost to herself, and when I spoke, she seemed startled. “Yes, um, thank God. That she didn’t go.”
I frowned. “She didn’t, did she?” After all, the bedrooms were on opposite ends of the cabin. If Faye had gone outside that night, would her parents even have known?
“Of course not. Faye didn’t see a thing. I heard about Matthew,” she said, and it was obvious she wanted to change the subject. “It’s disgusting. I hope you don’t feel too upset about all that.”
“I’m a big girl,” I told her. “I can handle it.”
“What did Matthew do?” Faye asked from across the room. We had been talking softly, but little girls have big ears.
Groping for an answer suitable for a 10-year old, her mother told her, “Matthew broke the law.”
“And he hurt Paige?”
“That’s right,” Gillian said carefully. “He hurt her feelings. He didn’t hit her or anything. But Paige is fine now. Matthew is going to jail and he won’t hurt Paige ever again.”
Faye thought this over briefly, then said, “Is he the one who hurt Gerda?”
“The police are going to be sure and find out if he was. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Okay. Can I go play with Loki now?”
“I think Loki is all tired out,” I told her. “He’s kind of an old dog, and he’s had an exciting day. Is Justin working at Trollhaven today?”
“No,” she said forlornly. “He had to go to school.”
“Well, I’m here,” Gillian said brightly. “Want to play Witchcraft?”
“Okay,” Faye answered without enthusiasm.
“You can show me how you levitate things. Maybe I can do it too, this time.”
I gave her a wide-eyed look and she whispered, “It’s just a game we play.”
“I don’t think you can do it,” Faye said smugly. “Not many people can. Gerda couldn’t, and she said she knew all about it.”
“Did you show Gerda?” Gillian asked with a warning note in her voice.
“Nah. She was a weirdo. I didn’t like her. I wasn’t going to show her anything.”
“That’s good,” her mother said.
I was struck by what she’d said, though, and I asked, “What did she want you to show her?”
“How to do charms and stuff. As if!” she said. “And get this, Mommy: she told me I might be a changeling.”
Faye and her mother shared a strange, superior look, then they both laughed. I felt more disturbed by it than they seemed to be. Convincing a child she didn’t really belong to her parents sounded like the beginning of a plan to abduct her. Promise her she could go live with the fairies or something. But Gillian just laughed it off, and Faye seemed confident it couldn’t be true.
“And she wanted to know how to call the trolls out, and how to make Essie come back,” Faye added.
“She WHAT?” Gillian cried. This, apparently, was more disturbing than trying to convince the girl she was a changeling.
“I told you she was a weirdo,” Faye said matter-of-factly. “She didn’t even know what a changeling really is. She wanted protection from the trolls, if they got mad, but they wouldn’t hurt anybody. I told her that. All you need to do is call on the name of God, remember?”
“Wait a minute, Faye,” I said, blinking. “Did you actually go to the troll’s mound with Gerda?”
“I didn’t go there with her,” she said. “She came while I was there.” She stopped, shocked at what she had just admitted. Then she stared at her mother, more afraid of Gillian’s anger than anything else.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” Gillian said, holding herself back as best she could. “Exactly when was this?”
“Right before dinner, Saturday night. That lady came down to the mound right as I was leaving. I only went down to see if everything was peaceful, after I heard all about their story. Gerda heard it too, somehow. She tried to grab my arm, but I got away from her. She wanted to know if I saw the troll, and I told her I had.”
“You what?” Gillian said.
Looking away, Faye shrugged and said, “I lied to her. She was weird. I told her I had to go back to the cabin or you’d be looking for me, but she started coming down the path after me, so I turned around and ran. Later, she came up to my window and wanted me to go back with her. She said I had to be a witness. You know, because I’d already told her I’d seen them, and she believed me. Isn’t that funny? She was so stupid.”
She waited, but nobody laughed.
“What happened then?” her mother asked.
“She told me the trolls wanted to see me, but I knew she was lying. Anyway, she’s dead now and we don’t have to worry about her anymore. Is Paige going to play Witchcraft with us too?”
There was a brief silence as I stared at Gillian, and Gillian stared at Faye.
“I bet Paige is good at Witchcraft,” the girl said, hoping we’d
stop asking about Gerda.
I took a deep breath and answered her. “Paige wants to go find her aunt and her friends Henry and Logan, if you don’t mind. Do you think you can levitate without me?”
Faye giggled. “Of course I can.” She shifted gears and was suddenly coy. “You like Logan, don’t you.”
I caught my breath. Were we making it that obvious that even a child could see it?
“I like Logan a lot,” I admitted, “and I think I’d better get outside and find him. He must wonder where I am by now.”
“Don’t worry, Sleepy. He won’t find another girlfriend. He likes you too much.”
I stared at the girl and quickly tried to remember if Logan had called me Sleepy during breakfast that morning. I was pretty sure he had. In fact, he seemed to be calling me Sleepy all the time now, but it was a tiny shock to hear Faye use the brand-new nickname. The girl was certainly quick.
Gillian stood. “I’m sure he does like her. We all do. Thank you again, Paige. I owe you.”
“Think nothing of it,” I said, and I left them alone to play Witchcraft.
Chapter 21 – Empty Bags
When I stepped off the cabin’s porch, I saw Logan down the line, standing in front of the main house with Henry and Nettie. They seemed to be waiting for something, and when Logan saw me, he waved and started walking my way. Henry turned and conducted Nettie up the porch steps and right back to the area where we’d had breakfast that morning.
“Is the kid okay?” Logan asked when he got close enough.
“She’s fine. She’s in there with her mother, playing a game. And Loki’s even better. He got a chew-chew.”
He smiled. “That good, huh?”
“It must be something pretty wonderful, by the way he acted.”
I had already noticed that the doors into both Cabin 1 and Cabin 2 were standing open, and there were official-looking people inside. I pointed, almost disinterested, and said, “Again?”
Logan sighed. “With this new development, they wanted to search the cabins and cars again. Whatever Matthew had in the bags isn’t in them anymore. They’re empty. We all said sure, what the heck, and let them in. They’ll be interrupting Gillian and Faye at their game next.”
“Oh, for the love of – where is Mark, anyway?” I asked, exasperated. “Gillian is already upset enough. Mark needs to get his priorities straight.”
Logan sighed. “We need to cut him a break, Sleepy. Don’t you know yet? He’s in law enforcement. He’s got something to do with all this.”
“Gillian said something about it, only she was a little more vague. It’s what’s causing all the trouble between them. So what’s this assignment he got that couldn’t wait until after his vacation?”
He gathered himself all up for a big shrug, shaking his head at the same time. “Something to do with what’s going on here. I know it looks bad, but he didn’t bring his family along on an investigation. It was just a coincidence there were developments on a case as soon as he got here. I think it’s got something to do with Trollhaven. Anyway, that’s what makes the most sense to me. I can see why Gillian would be furious about it.”
“So the redhead’s his partner? Or what?”
“His partner, or somebody on his team. I promised Henry I wouldn’t tell you, but I guess the cat’s about to come out of the bag all by itself, so I may as well. Henry picked up on the fact that Mark was in law enforcement right away, and like Nettie and you, he thought Mark’s excuse for going to Sturgeon Bay for wi-fi was lame. His detective instincts kicked into high gear, and at first he was only concerned with protecting you and Nettie from whatever might be going on around Mark. So he started paying more attention. When a strange woman showed up and started having quiet discussions with Mark, avoiding everybody else, Henry figured she was either his partner or whoever he was targeting, and something was about to happen. He wasn’t happy about it.”
“Neither was Mark or Gillian, for that matter. According to her, something happened after they got here and he suddenly got an assignment. I guess that all adds up, but to what, I don’t know.”
“Henry’s going to try to find out more from the Sheriff, since they’re friendly now.”
“Not that Henry will tell us,” I sniffed. “Anyway, I’ve got confirmation enough for my own satisfaction. The redhead is a co-worker, not a perp. Gillian was grateful enough after I brought Faye back to let her hair down a little. She told me that one of Mark’s work associates has shown up here, and that’s got to be the redhead.”
He nodded. “I’m getting the idea there are two investigations going on here, by two different agencies, and they may or may not be connected.”
“At least two investigations, maybe even three. The peeping tom, the murder, and whatever else Matthew was into. You can’t tell me they mobilized Mark while he was on vacation so he could get after a peeping tom. Something else must be going on. Maybe something that got Gerda killed.”
“Probably.”
We’d been ambling along the path in front of the cabins, heading for the main house, and I paused. “Gillian just told me something else that was odd. She said Gerda was trying to tell Faye she was a changeling. Why would she have done that?”
Logan’s face hardened. “That’s not odd, that’s scary. I’ve always thought Gerda would go off the deep end one day. Her beliefs were becoming more and more bizarre.”
“Do you think she was trying to drive a wedge between Faye and her parents? She was trying to lure the girl out to the troll’s mound for some reason.”
His hard look became grim. “She must have been trying to make Faye think she was an elemental spirit of some kind. Kids are susceptible to that kind of thinking.”
“Not just kids. Gerda might have believed it, too. Faye has something unearthly about her.”
“You’re right. So Gerda must have been thinking of some way she could use Faye. Bizarre, but that was Gerda.”
We stared at one another for a moment. Then I said, “Yeah, you’re right. Scary is the word. Do you think her interest in the girl had anything to do with Gerda getting killed?” I knew what that implied, and my stomach turned over at the thought.
Logan seemed at a loss. “She died next to the troll’s mound. Whether her murder had anything to do with the legend, or if she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, I just don’t know. Henry seems to think he has a handle on it, but I’m getting more confused, the more complicated this gets. He and Nettie have gone up to the main house porch to wait until the cops are done searching the cabins. Come on.”
So my usual foursome ended up sitting on the porch again, where Evaline had hot drinks and snacks available all day. There were two kinds of fresh cookies on a doily-covered platter: oatmeal raisin and snickerdoodle, and inside a wicker basket, wrapped in a green linen towel, were cranberry scones, still warm from the oven. Now that the windows were up, the porch was warm and cozy, and the fresh-baked goodies made it smell wonderful.
It was a nice place to be, but by that time I felt like I needed a good long nap, and we couldn’t get back into our cabins. What we really needed was a hearty lunch, but there we sat eating cookies instead, sipping our hot drinks and glancing out the windows at the guest cabins.
I wanted my knitting. It would have settled me down, but I knew better than to knock on the doorframe and ask if I could just have that little bag over there.
What they hoped to find I had no idea. If one of us had taken the time to remove the contents and bury the bags, why would we have kept whatever had been in them, right there in our cabins or cars? From what little we could pick up from cop conversations around us, we hadn’t needed to be too bright to figure out that they suspected drugs. Analysis of the bags would prove it, one way or the other.
Matthew was a mule. Or a courier. Or whatever professional bad guys call the messenger boys that carry the product from the country’s borders to the sales associates on the street corners.
But in Door County
? It’s, like, pristine forest vacationland! Street drugs don’t belong there.
I raised the objection and Henry just gave me a world-weary look and didn’t even bother to comment. He just mentioned that he’d been suspicious of Matthew all along, and this explained why he’d taken the reflectors off his bike, so he could move around in the dark and be less noticeable.
Evaline was wandering around like she was in a fog, Arnie was seething, and Karl was a bundle of nerves. Welcome home, prodigal son. Your family bed-and-breakfast is being used as a depot along the underground drug highway. They kept coming in and out of the house in turn, asking us if we needed anything, and sometimes, in between visits, there was yelling inside the house. After a particularly loud shouting match, Gail came out onto the porch and sat with us, looking terrible.
Nettie is so good at times like this, and she managed to be kind without getting syrupy. Within a few minutes, Gail was looking a little better, but then Arnie came out and she looked like she was about to burst into tears all over again.
“Now don’t,” he told her gently, sitting down beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders. “This thing is not your fault. You just tell the truth and shame the devil. Here they come.”
We looked outside and saw the Sheriff heading our way, along with Mark and the redhead. Paula had been right; the coat was the wrong color – kind of a dirty orange – and the glasses were ugly. Also crooked. They didn’t look happy to see the six of us sitting close together, talking.
Before they could get to us, Henry had the presence of mind to ask Arnie what Gail was so upset about.
Facing us with a set look, Arnie declared, “They’re going to want to know if anybody saw who buried those bike bags back there behind the cabins. Well, Gail accidentally saw the whole thing.”
“I didn’t see the bags. I only saw him digging,” she said miserably.
“You just tell the police what you saw and let them make what they will of it. Karl’s a man grown. He can answer for himself.”
Karl and Evaline came shooting out of the house five seconds before law enforcement got to the porch door. They must have seen them coming.
