The Paper Detective

by E. Joan Sims

  He patted me gently on the cheek and smiled over at Mother.

  “I’ll hold down the fort until dark,” he said. “You get as much sleep as you can now and take over for me until midnight.”

  “You mean we have to keep watch all night tonight?”

  “Tonight, and every night from now until we solve this mystery.”

  He took the empty cup out of my hand and pulled the blanket up under my chin. I closed my eyes and was glad to see nothing spinning. I tried to stay awake. I needed to think—to try and make some sense of this whole idiotic situation—but my eyelids were too heavy.

  My hunger woke me up a little after five in the evening. Mother was snoring softly on the other sofa with Aggie curled up at her feet. Her doggie snores were just slightly softer than Mother’s.

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes as the day’s events came rushing back to me. This whole thing was insane. I felt like Alice in Wonderland. Horatio was the White Rabbit and Mother was the Queen of Hearts. What did that make Bert, I wondered. The Mad Hatter? He certainly was no Dormouse. I could sure use him right about now. Horatio probably wouldn’t turn down his help either. I wasted a few moments wondering where he was, then got up quietly and tiptoed into the kitchen.

  Horatio was sitting at the table drinking coffee. He smiled when he saw me.

  “Feeling better?” he asked.

  “Much! And I’m starving.”

  “I took the liberty of preparing an omelet des fines herbs for myself. Shall I make one for you as well?”

  “No, thanks. A simple all-American pimento cheese sandwich will do for me.”

  While I ate, Horatio outlined our situation.

  “Unfortunately I wasn’t able to set up my security perimeter. The friend who was going to help me had a doctor’s appointment.” He smiled ruefully, “You were more correct than I cared to admit when you called us old fogies, my dear.”

  “Oh, Horatio, I told you I was sorry. And, honestly, I think I’m very lucky to have your friends on my side. Where else could a girl find such a wealth of expertise?”

  “In a nursing home in Nashville,” he said with a wry grin.

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Only two of them. But they both have computers online so it doesn’t matter where they are, or how infirm. One’s a language expert, and the other is a financial whiz. Henry’s blind in one eye and a stroke left him partially paralyzed two years ago, but he can access practically any bank account in the world.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. I was beginning to feel much better.

  “Like I was saying,” Horatio continued. “I didn’t get to arrange for our security, so we’ll have to be especially vigilant tonight. And we have no fire power to speak of, only the handgun I carry under the seat of my car and your father’s shotgun.”

  “What are we going to do if they come after us?”

  “Call 911 like any other citizen in trouble.”

  “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

  “Don’t you trust our stalwart Chief of Police?”

  That was a question I had been tossing around in my own mind lately. Bert and Andy were very good friends. If Bert was involved in something unpleasant there was a good chance Andy either knew about it, or was involved himself. I took a bite out of my sandwich and washed it down with a swig of cold sweet tea before I answered.

  “I have no concrete reason not to trust him. But what if the police take a little longer than usual getting here? What if both squad cars have flat tires? What if…”

  “Very well, then we must make alternate plans. Do you have any suggestions?”

  I finished my sandwich and chug-a-lugged the rest of my tea while I thought. Foremost in my mind was the belief that Horatio was exaggerating the situation just a tad. Being attacked by weirdoes on a nearly deserted highway was one thing, but this was our home. Meadowdale Farm was one mile as the crow flies from the town square. We might live on the edge of one hundred acres of rolling farmland, but our house sat on a hill just inside the city limits. I could not bring myself to believe that anyone would try to storm my mother’s castle. That thought gave me an idea.

  “How ’bout hiding in the dungeon?” I proposed with a wink.

  Horatio’s expression told me he had no time for jokes.

  “Perhaps you would care to elaborate on that suggestion,” he said in a stern voice.

  I hastened to appease him. “Mother knows more about it than I do, but there are tunnels all underneath the house.”

  “Do go on, my dear,” he urged. “This is fascinating.”

  “Fifty years ago, when my grandfather decided that four fireplaces couldn’t provide enough heat in the wintertime, he had a floor furnace placed in every room. This was originally a log house and there was no basement. The tunnels were dug so the units could be serviced. Over the years, as he and my father built new additions with new furnaces, more tunnels had to be created. There’s room down there for an army. Oops,” I grinned. “I keep forgetting they’re the bad guys.”

  “That has yet to be proven, my child,” he replied gruffly. “And if it is true, I’m sure it’s only a few mavericks. I’m a firm believer in the gallantry and honor of our men at arms.”

  Nighttime arrived as we talked. The kitchen grew dark and unfamiliar without the warmth of the oven or glow of the lights. Horatio had unscrewed the bulbs to make sure no one forgot and turned anything on. When I went to put the tea and the pimento cheese away I found that he had even remembered the light inside the refrigerator.

  “Gee, you’re good, Horatio. I would have forgotten that one. And I guess you took out the light in the microwave, too.”

  Horatio took his cup and saucer to the sink and looked out the window without answering me. I sat back down and watched him as he scanned the backyard with his binoculars. I started to tease him, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. It had been a long time since he had played spy vs. spy. Might as well let him enjoy it.

  “Do you want to see where the tunnel entrance is now?” I asked. “I mean, just in case we need to hide down there?”

  “Yes, and now might be the best time, my dear. It’s early, yet. Too many witnesses still up and about.”

  Oh, my God, I thought, that’s just a smidge melodramatic. But I cheerfully led him to the closet in the front hallway and explained how to get down to the tunnel below.

  “There’s a hole in the floorboard. You lift the floor up. The opening is about two and a half feet square.”

  Horatio opened the closet door and shone his hooded flashlight inside. He shook his head when he saw the jumble of old shoes and empty fruit jars on the floor.

  “How very unlike Anna to have such a messy closet,” he observed. “Help me clear away this junk, if you please, dear.”

  He bent down on one knee and tried to lift an old boot. When it wouldn’t come up, he tugged hard and fell back on the floor as it slipped out of his hands.

  “I should have warned you,” I chuckled. “Velvet and I glued and nailed that mess on the trapdoor one day when we decided we needed a secret hiding place. We thought it made a great disguise. Mother wanted us to clean it up, but Dad thought it was funny. It’s been there for thirty years. It really looks good now with all that dust, doesn’t it?”

  “I should say so! It certainly fooled me. Show me how it opens.”

  Together we lifted up the cover to the tunnel. The musty smell of dirt and mildew floated up from below and made me sneeze.

  “Mustn’t do that if we have to hide down here later. Take an antihistamine or something,” he said as he shone his flashlight down the dark hole.

  I shuddered at the thought of going down underneath the house. Although as a child I was fairly adventurous, I had never dared go into the tunnels. I was terrified of two things: spiders and enclosed spaces. The tunnels under my Mother’s house were sure to have plenty of both.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Horatio insisted that we let Mother slee
p as long as she could. The night was bound to be an anxious one, he said, and it was best to let her gather her strength. I was glad she woke up sooner than he planned. She had some very practical suggestions that I had not considered.

  “You’ve already had one computer stolen, dear. Don’t you think it would be prudent to hide your new one? And,” she added, “I must make sure my jewelry is out of sight.”

  Hiding my computer would do no good unless I could hide the fact that I had one altogether. If these people ever did break into the house and saw a printer and heavy cables they would probably do some damage looking for a missing PC. It took me twenty minutes of huffing and puffing before I managed to unplug everything and tote it all to the hall closet. Horatio, bless his heart, climbed down in the tunnel for me. I wrapped the printer in a plastic bag with all the cables and handed it down to him. Mother passed down three shoeboxes of trinkets and some photograph albums. She would have hidden more, but Horatio called it quits.

  “Perhaps if I might make a suggestion, Anna, my sweet?” he asked in his most diplomatic manner. “Tomorrow we can investigate the length and breadth of these subterranean passages at our leisure. I will locate a safe place for your valuables then.”

  “Very well,” she agreed. “But don’t you think we should have a cooler down there with some drinks and a bite to eat?”

  “Way to go, Mother! I wonder what James Beard would have suggested for a underground picnic?”

  Horatio sighed deeply before he responded. “I suppose making light of things does ease the tension somewhat. But do try to keep it to a bare minimum, Paisley, if you please.”

  With both of us now at his disposal, Horatio was able to map out a plan to keep the areas he considered important under surveillance.

  “I don’t think we need worry about the front of the house—the entrance is protected by solid oak doors and the wrought iron grillwork. All the windows facing the street are protected by wooden shutters, which I have closed and locked. Also, these villains want to do their dirty work unseen, and there is always the chance they could be spotted from the road.”

  “What about the orchard, Horatio? Couldn’t they park somewhere by the side of the road and sneak up through the trees?”

  That had happened once before, as I remembered very well.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Paisley, but we are not dealing with amateurs. If these men do indeed have a military background, they will act with stealth. No commando worth his salt would double park his vehicle on a main road. No,” he said shaking his head. “I suspect they will either walk across the fields from the highway on the other side of the farm, or drive out on the landing strip of the county airport and hide their vehicle in the woods. Either way, they will have to come up from behind the house,” he concluded. “And that’s where we will be watching.”

  He turned and scrutinized us with the protected bulb from his flashlight. Mother’s face looked pale and worried in the reddish glare. I was sure I looked equally bad, but Horatio nodded with approval.

  “You’re both wearing dark clothes. That’s perfect. Anna, dear, please take off your earrings and necklace. They are lovely,” he added tactfully, “but much too shiny.”

  Horatio placed us strategically in the back of the house. Mother’s post was in the kitchen, Horatio would stay in the library where he could keep an eye on the carriage house, the lane, and just in case, the orchard. I was to maintain a roving surveillance from the bedroom windows in the newest wing of the house. Horatio knew I had a hard time staying awake late at night. I’m sure he thought if I had to walk back and forth between all four bedrooms and the adjoining hall, I would be more alert.

  “I thought you were going to sleep until midnight, Horatio?” I teased.

  “Would you rather I did, Paisley?” he asked seriously.

  “Nope!”

  He grinned and looked thirty years younger. He was having a fine old time. I knew he wouldn’t miss this for the world.

  We kept up our fruitless watch until dawn. I don’t know whether Horatio was relieved or disappointed when he announced that we could relax our vigilance. I didn’t wait to find out. I went to my room and tumbled into bed, heedless of the fact that Aggie had once again been sleeping on my pillow. I smiled when I felt the warm place her little doggie body had made and fell fast asleep.

  I wasn’t so happy when she woke me up a mere three hours later with her barking.

  “What the hell, you crazy little dog?” I mumbled sleepily. I jumped up when I remembered our fears of the night before and ran to the French doors in the library. Andy Joiner was coming up the driveway in his police cruiser.

  I pulled on my jeans and sweatshirt and splashed some cold water on my face. I hadn’t discussed my concerns about Andy or Bert to Horatio as yet, and I wanted to be in on whatever conversation they had.

  Mother had just opened the kitchen door to let our Chief of Police inside when I burst into the kitchen. Mother and Horatio turned and stared at me, but Andy was standing open-mouthed at the sight of Horatio and Mother dressed in house robes having breakfast together.

  Horatio Raleigh had been a dear friend of my father’s, but he had never hidden the fact that it was my mother he had adored since they were in grammar school over sixty years ago. For the first few years of my parent’s marriage, Horatio had lived in Europe. But as time passed and emotions mellowed he returned to Rowan Springs and forgave my father for stealing away the love of his life. The three became great friends, but even so, Horatio always maintained a respectful distance. When Dad died ten years ago, Horatio, after a decent period of mourning, took up his position as suitor once again. Many people in Rowan Springs expected them to marry. Andy Joiner was probably thinking he had the latest tidbit of gossip to tell his wife when Horatio spoke up and burst his bubble.

  “My ladies had an accident yesterday,” he explained. “I remained overnight in the guest suite in order to be of any possible assistance.”

  His firm smile and formal demeanor left no room for doubt or speculation. Andy’s chance to do his wife one better in the area of tattling was quashed.

  “Andy, would you care for some breakfast? I’m not as good a cook as either Mother or Horatio but I’ve had more sleep. Let me fix you something.”

  “Just some coffee, please. And thank you, Paisley,” he smiled.

  Andy sat down with Mother and Horatio at the kitchen table. In spite of his firm voice, Horatio looked tired and drawn. Mother didn’t look much better, and I had a pretty good idea of the less-than-pretty picture I made.

  Andy shucked off his leather jacket and let it fall over the back of his chair.

  “I’m glad Mrs. Sterling has such a loyal friend, Mr. Raleigh. But don’t you think you should have advised her to call me after the accident?”

  “Unfortunately, neither she nor Paisley could identify the car that hit them. It was a hit and run, you know.” Horatio held the young man’s gaze and continued, “You knew about the accident before I told you. How did you find out?”

  Andy dropped his eyes from Horatio’s and pulled out his battered little notebook.

  “A dry goods salesman traveling south on Highway 63 at approximately ten in the morning, saw a large truck lose control and hit a white Lincoln Continental from behind.”

  “I don’t remember seeing another car,” interjected Mother. “And why on earth didn’t the gentleman stop to see if we needed aid?”

  “Apparently he was not where he was supposed to be yesterday. He didn’t wish to get involved for fear his boss would find out. He only called my office early this morning. Guilty conscience, he explained. He wanted to make a statement in case you had a problem with your insurance.”

  “A very helpful gentleman, indeed,” said Horatio, thoughtfully. “And quite timely,” he added.

  Andy ignored Horatio and went on to say, “I didn’t see your car when I drove up, Miz Sterling. Is it already at the repair shop? If it’s not, I’d like to see it. You
never know what kind of evidence we might find—paint samples, things like that.”

  “I’m afraid you’re too late, young man,” said Horatio. “A friend of mine from Nashville came and fetched the car yesterday. He promised it would be ready this afternoon; therefore, I must assume the repairs have already been made. I’m sorry if we’ve inadvertently destroyed any evidence.”

  Horatio’s smile was deceptively innocent. Anyone who did not know him well would see a tired old man who had acted too quickly and without thinking. But Andy wasn’t just anyone. I wasn’t sure he was going to buy it.

  “I hear you have quite a few friends, Mr. Raleigh. Some of them have very interesting backgrounds. Would this gentleman in Nashville be one of them?” Andy asked pointedly.

  Horatio’s eyes narrowed. His smile turned dangerous. I jumped in to avoid a confrontation.

  “More coffee, Andy?” I said, and went on to ask, “What have you heard from Bert Atkins?”

  “Why, eh, nothing,” he answered, turning a bright embarrassed red from his Adam’s apple to his ears. “I, eh, better be getting back to town.”

  He pushed back his chair and stood up. His leather uniform jacket slid off and landed with a thump on the kitchen floor. I leaned down to pick it up, but Andy grabbed it first. We almost bumped heads. I laughed. He smiled and turned even redder.

  “Thanks for the coffee, Paisley. See you all later,” he said as he wheeled toward the back door.

  I let him out and watched as he walked to his car. I waited until he drove down the driveway before I turned back to Mother and Horatio.

  “How very odd,” remarked that wise old soul.

  “I couldn’t agree with you more, Horatio,” I nodded.

  “What? Did I miss something?” asked Mother in a tired and dispirited voice. “I tried to pay attention. But my mind kept drifting. What happened, Paisley, dear?”