The Cracked Pot

by Melissa Glazer

  Butch squeezed my shoulder, and I tried not to wince. "Carolyn, in his worst hour, David's not a killer. But the kid has to be pretty shook up by what happened. Finding, then losing your old man in a span of a few hours would be hard on anyone." He released his grip, and I tried to hold in my relief.

  Jenna said, "Let's find him. I'm sure we can do it if we just use our heads."

  "If it helps, I'm pretty sure he spent last night on my couch," I said.

  "He was at your house?" Sandy asked. "Why didn't you tell us that from the start?"

  "Not my couch at home," I said as I pointed to the one in back of the shop. "He slept there, and from the look of the way he left things, he was in a rush when he took off."

  Butch walked around the couch as if it were a fascinating artifact instead of the discount sofa it really was. "It looks clean to me."

  "That's because I just couldn't leave it like it was."

  "Where's the trash bag?" he asked.

  "I tossed it in the Dumpster in back. You're not going to dig through my trash, are you?"

  "I've done a lot worse in my life," he said with a grin. "I'll be back shortly."

  I appreciated their help, truly I did, but there was no way I was going to let him sort through my rubbish in my shop. "Don't bring that bag back in here. Please."

  Butch nodded. "You got it."

  At least he was abandoning that plan. Or so I thought.

  "I'll do it out back. No offense, but I need room to work anyway."

  Was he serious? "Go on, then."

  "Don't worry, Carolyn, I'll clean up after myself. Where are your spare trash bags?"

  I pointed to the bathroom. "I keep some back there."

  He grabbed a few bags, then headed out back. As he reached the rear entrance, he stopped and asked, "Anyone care to join me? No? Okay, suit yourselves."

  When the door shut, I asked Jenna and Sandy, "Has he lost his mind?"

  "No, the police do it all the time," Jenna said, "a fact that's not lost on our friend, I'm sure. Let's see if we can come up with something ourselves while we're waiting for Butch."

  Sandy walked over and picked up the telephone. "Have you used this phone since you came in this morning?"

  I remembered my frantic telephone call to Hannah when I'd first found the mess. "Sorry, I called Hannah this morn ing."

  "That's all right, how could you know? Redial would have been nice, but there's got to be something here." She started digging under the cushions of the sofa.

  "If you're looking for spare change, I've got some in my purse," I said.

  "I'm looking for clues," she said.

  Jenna smiled. "I thought the Internet was your spe cialty."

  "Hey, a gal's got to branch out sometimes, doesn't she? What's this?" Sandy held out a wadded-up sheet of paper and started to open it as Jenna and I approached so we could see it as well.

  We looked at the paper and saw the numbers 06-07-91 written on it in what was unmistakably David's handwrit ing. Sandy frowned at it and said, "What is it, some kind of combination? I wonder if it's to a safe."

  "Yes, David is so rich he needs a safe to keep his money in," I said dryly.

  "It could be a birthday," Jenna suggested. I glanced at a calendar I got from my glaze supplier. "It doesn't mean anything to me."

  "It's got to mean something to him, though," Sandy said, too proud of her discovery to allow any dispute.

  "Sandy, we have no idea how long that's been there. David could have left it months ago."

  "You haven't had the couch that long," Jenna said.

  That was true. I'd been forced to replace the old one when I'd discovered something about it that I preferred to forget. I'd had the new one for only a few weeks. "That still doesn't mean he left it last night."

  Butch came back in holding a soiled piece of paper.

  "What did you find?" I asked him.

  "This was torn from a pad. There's an impression of something, but I can't see what it is. Hand me a pencil."

  I gave him one from the counter near where I was stand ing, and he rubbed the edge of the graphite along the sheet. After he'd done that to his satisfaction, Butch held the paper up to the light and read, "I think it's a six up front. Let's see, that looks like it might be a one right there."

  "Could it be a seven, by any chance?" Jenna asked, try ing to suppress her grin.

  "Hang on, let me see. Yes, I think you're right. It does look like a seven. Now how in the world did you know that?"

  Jenna grabbed Sandy's paper and handed it to him. "We found the original. Or Sandy did, I should say."

  The librarian was grinning broadly.

  "You're quite proud of that, aren't you?" I asked.

  "That's not why I'm smiling. The paper Butch has proves that David wrote this last night. It's got to mean something."

  "I suppose you're right," I admitted.

  "It has to be."

  Jenna said, "But we still don't know what it opens. Or if it even opens anything."

  I looked at Butch, and he was frowning.

  I couldn't have that. "You gave us valuable confirmation. Don't look so glum."

  "That's not it," he said. "This could be something else."

  "We're listening, if you have any ideas," I said.

  "What if it belongs to a security system for someone's business, or even their house?"

  Jenna said, "Surely you're not accusing David of being a burglar, are you?"

  "No," Butch said patiently. "He doesn't have the skills for it. But if we knew where it matched, it might tell us where he is right now."

  Sandy asked, "What kind of skills do you need to steal?" Her tone of voice wasn't accusatory. She was obviously fas cinated by the subject, but we didn't have time for one of Butch's discourses on the art of thievery.

  "Never mind that right now," I said. "There can't be that many homes in Maple Ridge that require a security code, can there?"

  "You'd be surprised," Butch said. "There are more around here than you'd think."

  "I'd really love to know how a reformed thief would know that," Jenna said sternly.

  "I can't help what I notice," Butch said. "Once you've trained your eyes to look for certain things, you can't just ignore those observations, even if the information isn't per tinent anymore."

  "Would you two please hush?" I asked. "I'm thinking."

  I dared Butch to say something about my scolding, but he kept silent. Why on earth would David have a security combination for someone's house? Where would he get one? Then I remembered what his girlfriend did for a living.

  As I reached for the telephone, I said, "I've got to make a call."

  "Who are you calling?" Sandy asked.

  "Annie Gregg. Hush, it's ringing."

  After seven rings, she picked up. "AG A1," she an swered.

  I knew that was the name of her cleaning business. It was clever, catchy, and had the distinct advantage of being listed first in the Yellow Pages.

  "Annie, it's Carolyn."

  She sighed deeply and then said, "Carolyn, I haven't seen David since yesterday morning."

  "But have you spoken with him?" I asked. "Perhaps long enough to give him the security code for someone's home who happens to be out of town, maybe a client who is trust ing you to care for their property while they're away?"

  Okay, perhaps I was being a little heavy-handed, but I needed to find David before he got into any more trouble. I added, "You're not helping him, Annie, despite what you might think."

  In a voice that was nearly a whisper, she said, "He made me promise not to tell. I talked to him this morning."

  "I won't say anything," I said as reassuringly as I could. "Where is he, Annie? I need to know. It's for his own good."

  "I can't tell you anything," she said after a long pause.

  "Could you at least give me a hint? I found the security code here at the shop. That is what 06-07-91 means, isn't it?"

  "Yes," she admitted. Again in a near whis
per, she added, "Look up and you might see him."

  "What?"

  "I won't say anything more, Carolyn. Good-bye." She hung up before I could say another word.

  Had the dear child spent too much time breathing in cleaning fluid fumes? Look up. Was she kidding me? And then I realized what she had to have meant. There was one place, a stately mansion indeed, that looked down on all of Maple Ridge, and I'd been there a few times myself.

  Tamra Gentry was in New York the last I'd heard. Her estate on the mountainside would be the perfect place for David to hide out.

  "Let's go," I said as I started for the front door.

  Butch said, "Let me lock up the back entrance. You can't trust people these days. Carolyn, you really should update your security system around here."

  "What are they going to take, a few bags of clay and some glaze? I'll risk it."

  "Those kilns might be expensive to replace."

  "Enough of this. Where exactly are we going?" Jenna asked.

  "Tamra Gentry's place. I've got a pretty good idea that's where David is hiding out."

  "Let's go," Sandy said.

  "Don't you have to work? I don't want to get you in trou ble with Corki."

  "I took a sick day as soon as I heard about David. Do you honestly think I could work and not help him? He's my friend, too, Carolyn."

  I hugged her quickly. "I knew there was a reason I was so fond of you."

  "Hey, I'm coming, too," Butch protested.

  I hugged him as well, then turned to Jenna. "How about you?"

  "I'm coming, but we can skip the embrace," she said. "Are you all quite ready?"

  "Absolutely." I grabbed the "Closed" sign and hung it in the door without another thought. If it meant I lost some business, so be it. David took precedence over everything else at the moment.

  Butch said, "I'll drive," and none of us argued with him. His Cadillac had plenty of room, and if there was an option he didn't have on it, it was purely by accident.

  As we drove up the steep, winding road to Tamra's place, I thought about what I would say to David. Should I scold him for running away like he had? For that matter, should I even bring up his father's death? I'd have to figure it out on the fly.

  The leaves of a hundred maple trees obscured the drive, but I could still see Tamra's place through gaps in the canopy. It truly was a stately place, a three-story colonial with massive white columns in front that loomed over all of Maple Ridge.

  It was impossible to tell if Tamra, or anyone else, for that matter, was in residence. Had I guessed right? David didn't have to come out if he didn't want to. Although I had the se curity code, I suddenly realized that I didn't have a key, something I had neglected to ask Annie about.

  Butch parked in front of the house.

  I reached for my phone, but couldn't find it anywhere in my purse. Then I remembered that it was still in the charger at the shop, the good battery now on Hannah's phone. "Can I borrow one of your cell phones? I need to make one more call."

  "We're already here," Sandy said. "Let's just go in."

  "I have the code, but we still need a key," I said.

  "Sorry, I forgot all about that."

  I shouldn't have snapped at the poor girl, since I'd for gotten that myself. I smiled. "To be honest with you, so did I, until thirty seconds ago."

  "We don't necessarily need a key," Butch said in a soft voice. Before Jenna could protest, he added, "I'm just say ing."

  "Make your call, Carolyn," Jenna said as she handed me her cell phone.

  This time, Annie picked up on the first ring. I said, "An nie, it's me again. I know there must be a key hidden out here somewhere. That's the way Tamra is." It was a guess, but I thought it was a good one.

  "Where are you?" I detected a little bit of fright in her voice, as if she'd said too much earlier.

  "I know David's at Tamra's, but I'm afraid if I ring the bell, he'll try to run again."

  That wasn't really true; I had no idea how David would react, but I needed this girl's help.

  "I want the best for him, too. Surely you know that."

  Was she crying? I wasn't sure, and the sound stopped nearly as soon as it had started. Finally, she said, "Look un der one of the columns. There's a bit of detail work hiding the key. You have to push on a slight paint smear and it opens up."

  "You've got to be kidding me," I said as I got out of the car in search of this secret hiding place. It was obvious the others wanted to know what I was up to, but to their credit, they followed me in relative silence. I studied each col umn's base and couldn't see a thing that looked out of the ordinary. "It's not here."

  "The key's gone? David must still have it," she said.

  "No, I'm talking about the paint smudge. It's simply not on any of the bases."

  "Are you sure you're looking carefully enough?" Annie asked.

  "I can see a smudge without my glasses," I said abruptly. "Which column is it in? Do you remember?"

  She paused, then said, "I think it's on the right side. It's not the key I use, but Tamra told me about it in case I lost mine."

  "I started from the left," I said, "but I'll keep looking."

  "I'm sorry, I'm just not myself."

  "It's all right, dear," I said. "I can't imagine how hard this is for you."

  "Thanks for being so understanding, Carolyn."

  "That's what I do," I said. "I'm looking, but I still don't see it." The others must have thought I'd lost my mind, but they didn't say a word as I stared intently at the column bases. I explained what I was looking for, then Butch got down on his hands and knees and started studying one him self. He frowned a second, then poked a spot I'd missed. To my surprise, a small door opened, and there, inside the base, lay a key.

  "We found it," I said.

  "We? You didn't bring the police with you, did you?"

  "Of course not, Annie. Now I've got to go."

  "You won't tell him I told you, will you?"

  "I promise," I said, and then I hung up. I stared at Butch

  as he handed me the key. "How on earth did you know to do that?"

  "It was pretty obvious, wasn't it?" he said, trying not to sound too smug.

  "Maybe to you," I said.

  I took the key and approached the door.

  Jenna put a hand on my arm before I could try it. "Are you sure we shouldn't ring the bell first? We might frighten him off if we just barge in."

  "I'll call out his name as soon as we get inside," I said.

  I slipped the key into the lock and gently turned the knob. As I slowly pushed the door inward, I saw a handgun leveled at my chest, and David's finger nearly white on the trigger.

  Chapter 7

  "Would you mind pointing that somewhere else?" I asked David as calmly as I could manage. This was the second weapon pointed at me today, definitely a trend I wanted to discourage.

  "Sorry, I didn't know it was you," David said as he low ered the gun to his side.

  Butch walked past me and took it from David's grasp. "You should never point one of these things at somebody unless you're willing to use it," he said. "And before you can do that, you've got to take the safety off, like this." He moved a small lever and handed the gun back to David. "Now it's ready to shoot."

  "Give me that," Jenna snapped, and David handed it to her. She put it gingerly in Butch's hands. "Put the safety back on, unload it, and then, David, put it back where you found it."

  "Fine," he said. "What are you all doing here? Annie told you where I was hiding, didn't she?"

  I wasn't about to tell on her. "It wasn't that difficult to figure out," I said before the others could stop me. "You left the security code wadded up on the couch. The alarm's not set right now, is it? We wouldn't want the sheriff showing up." I added with a frown, "Nice housekeeping in the shop, by the way."

  "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I was in a bit of a rush to get out of there. That still doesn't explain how you knew to come here. Annie must have told y
ou where I was, and where to find the key."

  Butch grinned at him. "I used to be a crook, remember?" The man was taking a page from my book, lying convinc ingly by telling the truth. There was an art to it, one Butch had obviously mastered long ago.