“Lookee here,” said Katy, walking up to the biggest window and balancing on an errant log to see better. She peered inside. “It’s about as big as a one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan.”
“You mean there’s hardly space for a dog in there?”
“Bed’s not made,” she said, putting her hand over her forehead to clear out the reflection. “There’s a bag or something on the floor.”
I stepped up next to her and peered inside, getting on my tiptoes on the log.
A cot was set against one wall, and a dorm-sized kitchenette was against the opposite wall. A roughhewn wooden table and two simple chairs were set next to a wood stove which, I was sure, doubled as a cooking and heating appliance.
There was a small door to our left that looked like it led to a closet. Through the opening I glimpsed a toilet and sink.
Plumbing. This meant this shack was self-sufficient. They had really thought things through.
“See those candles on the table?” said Katy. “That’s what you saw flickering last night.”
“Hey, check out the floor near the kitchen sink,” I said.
Katy flattened her face against the window.
“That puddle is fresh,” I said, “someone was cleaning up at the sink and spilled some water but forgot to wipe it up.”
Across from us, we could see the door being rattled furiously. From around the structure, we could also hear Tetyana’s curses coming through loud and clear.
“Someone’s staying here, or stayed here recently,” said Katy.
“Who do you think that could be?”
“Squatters maybe,” said Katy. “Freeloaders looking for a place to stay for the winter. Or it could be a regular hunting cabin. Hunting season’s just finished.”
“Or maybe it was the lost hikers?” I said, raising an eyebrow.
The main door to the shack slammed open and Tetyana barreled inside. Katy and I sprang back instinctively.
Tetyana strode up to the window and opened it with a wide grin.
“Look at you two. Like two little match girls. You can come in the normal way now.”
Katy and I jumped off the log and walked around the shack to the front.
“You didn’t break the door, did you?” I asked, scrutinizing the lock.
“I know how to pick a lock like anyone else,” replied Tetyana, bending down to examine the water puddle near the kitchen sink.
Katy raised an eyebrow. “Like you know how to blow up a bridge?”
Tetyana shot her an offended look.
“It’s warm in here,” I said, closing the door behind me and walking over to the woodstove oven. “The cinder’s still glowing. Someone’s definitely been staying here.”
“Don’t touch!” said Tetyana as Katy reached over to pick up something on the floor.
Katy hastily drew her hand back.
“It’s a scarf,” she said. “Who do you think it belongs to?”
“Caril?” said Tetyana.
“That means they stayed overnight here,” I said, poking my face into the little bathroom. “But then they showed up at the house in the middle of the night, pretending to never have seen this place. Why would they do that?”
Using a paper towel from the counter as a makeshift glove, Tetyana opened the cupboards, one by one.
“Food cans and a can opener. There’s water on tap and firewood for the stove. It’s not like anyone was going to starve here.”
“What does all this mean though?” said Katy, twirling around the room. “None of this makes any sense.”
“They’re here for something,” I said. “Remember how guarded Mrs. Robinson was when we asked about this place? I get this funny feeling she knew the couple were staying here.”
“Why would she protect someone with serial killer names?” said Katy.
“Hey,” said Tetyana, “look at this, will you?”
Katy and I joined her at the small kitchen window.
“A path,” said Katy. “The end of the mountain trail everyone’s talking about.”
“It’s heading down toward the gully.” Tetyana pointed at something farther away. “Do you recognize that spot?”
“It’s the clearing,” I said. “Isn’t that where we were last night, where we got our tire problem?”
“You’re right,” said Katy, leaning across the counter. “That’s where I went looking for my leaf pictures.”
“It’s where we saw that man and woman argue,” I said, turning to my friends. “They were right here.”
Chapter Thirty-six
“Curiouser and curiouser,” I said, turning around and walking to the door.
Closing the door behind us, we stepped down and walked around the cabin toward the trail, our boots squelching through the wet leaves on the ground.
Tetyana checked the compass on her watch.
“That’s heading east,” she said, “if that trail goes straight down, it could even get us to town.”
“We’ll need a bridge to cross the river though,” said Katy.
“I can’t believe there’s only one way to this house,” I said, as we treaded through the path. “This estate must be several, if not hundreds of acres. There must be other points of entry.”
“Other than the mountain trail?”
I nodded. “Unless the gully winds itself around the entire house like an old-fashioned moat, there has to be another way out.”
We stopped talking as we got to the clearing. From here, we could see the gully was filled to its brim, the storm water thundering through the open chasm.
A small piece of earth from the bank crumbled and fell into the water as we watched.
Tetyana hadn’t needed a lot of help to bring the rickety wooden bridge down. It was already rotting underneath, ready to fall any moment. I shuddered to think of how we drove over that decayed structure only a day ago.
The three of us stood by the embankment, examining our surroundings, trying to spot clues we might have missed the last time.
“Was it Charles and Caril we saw?” I said.
Katy shook her head. “The man was taller and skinnier. Not at all like Charles.”
“They ran off through the trees from the other side of the bank,” I said. “Where did they go off to?”
“Could have hidden among the trees until we got to the house, then snuck across the bridge and into the cabin,” said Tetyana. “Or they could have walked back to the road once we left and got into their vehicles parked somewhere out there.”
“We didn’t see any cars on the road,” said Katy.
“I wasn’t looking, but if I did, I’m sure to find a few good hiding spots along the roadside.” She stopped. “But that would mean effort on their part. They’d have to have an excellent reason to conceal their vehicles deliberately.”
I turned to Katy.
“Did that woman’s profile remind you of anyone?”
“They were far away, and it was dark,” said Katy, poking a twig with the tip of her shoe, trying to remember. “I guess it could have been Caril.”
“It could also have been Nancy,” I said. “She’s similar in size and height.”
“And age too,” said Tetyana.
“But Nancy was at the house when we got there,” said Katy.
“She had ample time to run back to the house,” I said. “We saw her about half an hour after we’d gone inside, remember?”
“Wouldn’t we have seen her run along the driveway?”
“Not if she kept to the woods and took the long way round.”
Tetyana stepped up to the riverbank, her eyes on the gushing water below. “Maybe there’s a way to cross here,” she mumbled.
I turned back to Katy. “Did you notice Doctor Fulton’s face?”
“That cut on his nose?” said Katy.
I nodded. “Said he got it from a jagged edge on the wine cellar wall. He was supposedly too busy moving Mrs. Robinson to notice when it happened.”
“Horse manure,”
said Katy. “I saw that cut when he came in.”
“Me too.”
“Do you think it was him out here?”
“I just can’t see him darting through the woods.”
“Me neither.”
“Oi, detectives,” called out Tetyana, “come see this.”
Katy and I walked over to where she’d been strolling along the gully, away from us.
“Check that out,” she said, pointing at something on the ground.
Katy bent over to look and teetered at the edge. Tetyana grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her away from the river.
“It’ll be a cold, rough swim for you, if you don’t watch out.”
“What are we supposed to see, Tetyana?” I asked.
“The grass is crumpled and the leaves have been disturbed.”
She was right. The frost on the ground had cleared, but the grass was squashed like someone had stomped through the area.
“Could it have been the storm?”
She shook her head. “Someone went that way, and they weren’t tiptoeing.”
She started walking along the river, stopping every few feet to examine the ground. We followed her, our eyes on the grass.
“The leaves covered their shoe markings,” said Tetyana, “pity.”
In fifteen minutes, we came to the edge of the tree line. We had also moved away from the river.
Tetyana halted and put out a hand to signal us to stop. Then she stepped out of the tree line and onto a rocky graveled area.
After scanning the surroundings to make sure no one was around, she motioned us to join her.
We walked over and flanked her, trying to figure out where we were.
“Where’s the river?” I said. “I can hear it. It’s not too far.”
Tetyana stomped her right foot.
“Under here.”
“The river runs underground?” I said, looking at her in shock.
She nodded. “You missed the gully narrowing about twenty feet back. It disappeared, but I’m sure it’s running under here and probably pops up again down the line.”
She walked a few yards to where a handful of rocks had been scattered, like something heavy had dropped on them. She bent down to examine the muddy brown earth underneath.
“Tire tracks,” I said, kneeling next to her, squinting at the faint markings. “How did you even notice them?”
“See how the rocks were thrown this way? A vehicle’s wheels dug in right here.”
“Maybe it was the rain that pushed the rocks away?” said Katy.
“Rain doesn’t leave tire tracks.”
“Wouldn’t the rain have erased the tracks though?” I asked.
“It was a heavy-duty vehicle. The wheels sunk in here.”
“We didn’t hear a car though,” said Katy.
“That’s because our focus was on the cop,” I said.
Tetyana bent down and traced the tire tracks with her finger. “It was an all-wheel drive. The only kind that can make it up here.”
She took her phone out and snapped a picture.
“Once we get the Internet back, I can compare tire markings and see if I can identify the vehicle.”
“The only person with an all-wheel drive SUV is the police officer,” I said. “The other person is Jim.”
“I could swear the man we saw was older and slower,” said Katy. “Jim and the cop are fit and lean. It wasn’t them.”
“Could have been anyone from town too,” said Tetyana, gazing at the gravel pit. “That man or woman you saw could have run out here, got into their truck and drove off.”
I turned to Tetyana. “Are these fresh marks?”
“It’s a wild hunch, but I’d say a day or two.”
“What is this place?” said Katy, looking around her.
“An ancient riverbed of sorts,” said Tetyana, squinting into the distance. “Someone was using this dry bed to get closer to the house without coming on the main road.”
“I knew there had to be another way to town,” I said. “But we’re not that far from the house. I’d be surprised if no one knew about this path.”
“Maybe they do, but no one wants to admit to it?” said Tetyana.
Katy pointed at the pine trees lined like a dark green wall behind us. “That’s an entire forest we’ll have to chop down before we can get any vehicle out here. It’s not the most convenient road.”
“True, but that shouldn’t stop anyone walking out here and calling for someone to pick them up,” said Tetyana. “Or have someone come to drop something off for the house.”
“Or for the cabin,” I said.
Tetyana got up and wiped her hands on her pants. “I’d swear that everyone in this house knows a lot more than they’re letting on.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
“Hey there,” said Jim, leaning close to Katy and giving her a wink. “Are you trying to hog all the bread?”
With a friendly smile, Katy passed him the bread basket.
I glanced over at Nancy to see if she’d noticed Jim flirting, but an animated conversation between the pastor and the doctor was preoccupying her now.
Nancy seemed to take turns being unpleasant to those around her. We, especially Katy, had been her target on our first day. Then it had been the hiker couple. Now, it seemed like Pastor Graham was her next victim.
She stared at him with a scornful look, as he enthusiastically described a horse race he’d seen years ago, while the doctor listened politely. The pastor seemed oblivious to the glares coming his way.
That afternoon, while we were exploring the grounds and the cabin, Nancy had checked the pantry, rationed the food, baked bread and made preparations in case we were going to be stranded for a week. Despite her foul moods, under that sullen face lay a conscientious person who wanted to do her part for the house.
I wondered what drove her. I also wondered why she was so quick to judge and scorn others.
Late afternoon, when it got close to suppertime, Nancy had engaged Caril and Charles to sweep the dining room floor and set the table while Katy and I helped her prepare the dishes, plate the food and bring them up. Tetyana had been on cleaning duty, loading and unloading the dishes.
Jim had run off to the barn again, to check up on the generator, or so he’d said. The pastor had disappeared and there had been no sign of Barry or Lisa.
Doctor Fulton had sat nursing a beer and reading a book in the rocking chair in the kitchen, with strict instructions from Nancy to not get in the way. He refused to read alone in the living room upstairs. He didn’t leave the kitchen all afternoon, saying he preferred company.
The nervous twitch on his face never eased.
I was now seated between Lisa and Doctor Fulton at the bottom end of the table. Lisa was quiet as usual, an aloof air about her, while the doctor fidgeted in his seat like he was anxious about something. I wondered if Mrs. Robinson’s death was playing heavily in his mind.
Caril and Charles had joined us for dinner as well, but they kept to themselves in their corner, next to Barry. Caril still had those sunglasses on and rarely looked up from her plate.
On the surface, they looked like unassuming, grateful guests who’d been invited for a meal and a place to stay during a storm, but didn’t want to make a fuss.
But beneath their quietness, I felt something simmering, something I felt in my bones would come to a boil soon.
Perhaps it was knowing what their names signified that made me paranoid. All I could notice now was how watchful they were.
How quiet and watchful they were.
I felt a cold shiver go through me.
The doctor finally wrenched himself free from the pastor and turned to Nancy.
“You saved the day, my dear,” he said with a nod and a fatherly smile. “I don’t know how you did it, but this is a darn good meal for a place that’s cut off from everything and running on a generator.”
Nancy’s face lit up. She returned a shy smile at the d
octor.
“Fantastic dinner. Bravo to you!” said the pastor, raising his glass at her. “I’m so glad you and Jim came to Cedar Cottage.”
Nancy’s smile vanished in an instant. She turned back to her plate with a scowl.
Katy and I exchanged a glance.
What was that all about?
For a moment, I felt like we’d tumbled down Alice’s rabbit hole and had walked in on the Mad Hatter’s tea party.
I wondered if the grief and shock everyone had shown the night before at Mrs. Robinson’s death had been a show. No one brought her name up. No one murmured feelings of sadness at her passing.
It was like the caretaker who’d lived in this house for decades, cooking and cleaning and making everyone’s lives comfortable, had already been forgotten.
The pastor and Jim were having a hearty conversation. Even Barry seemed in relatively good spirits, trying to make slurred talk with anyone who’d listen between slurping his soup and telling Nancy how tasty it was.
Lisa was her usual mousy self, sitting next to me with her head low. She’d come to the dining room early that day and had been the first person to sit at the table. I could see she was now listening to the conversation around the table with more alertness than the evening before.
Lisa had actually smiled when I’d walked in.
She’s trying to make up for the night before, I thought, thankful our hostess was warming up. Though she said little, she was making eye contact with everyone. An impressive progression.
Katy, our self-appointed public relations representative, played the gracious guest and kept her part up. She knew how to distract others from Tetyana’s constant vigilance of the room, and from my discreet observations of everyone around the table.
Almost everyone was engaged in conversations about food or racehorses. For a household in mourning and a dead body lying in the wine room, I felt this dinner party a bit obscene.
“How’s the bridge repair going?”
It was Doctor Fulton.
Normally, Tetyana wasn’t one for small talk, or for any talk. But she knew her role that evening.
“I’ll need a chainsaw and an electric drill,” she said. “I should have something up tomorrow.”
Merciless Legacy: Merciless Murder - A Thrilling Closed Circle Mystery Series Page 17
