“Well? Are you sharing who it is?”
“In a minute.” I picked up the clipboard. “Dad, does your truck have a map light?”
“Right here.” He reached toward his sun visor and pressed a button. Bright light shone down on my lap. “What have you got there?” he asked, eyeing the papers.
“Give me a minute.” I flipped Dixie and Shannon’s sheets out of the way and studied Paige’s application. I’d remembered right. Under the listing for “Former Employers,” Paige had written that she’d worked for the Happy Hour Service Station and Food Mart, a convenience store located at the corner of Ohio and Blaine streets.
I turned off the light. “I need to get to the corner of Ohio and Blaine, Dad. Can you find it?”
“Let me think.” My father leaned forward, peering out the windshield for a familiar landmark. “Yeah, but we’ll have to backtrack.”
“Let’s do it.”
My father made the necessary turns, which took us off the outer loop and back into River City. After several blocks, he asked, “What’s on this corner?”
“A convenience store.”
His tone was kind. “Still got a headache, huh? I have some aspirins in the glove compartment, but I don’t have any water.” He pointed to a McDonald’s that was just ahead. “I could turn in there and get you a drink to wash down a pill.”
“No, thanks,” I said. “I’ll wait.” My father’s consideration of my needs never wavered. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d cut him off while he was speaking or tuned him out. He wanted a detective agency, and I’d deliberately sabotaged the chance for him to have his first case.
“Here we are, daughter. Do you want me to go in for you? If your headache persists, I think we ought to go to the ER.”
“I’m fine, Dad. I’ll be right back.” I climbed out of his truck and went in the front door. I grabbed a couple cans of diet soda from a cooler and went up to the checkout counter. The cashier was a robust woman with dyed black hair and ruby red lips. Her eyelashes were weighed down with thick, gunky mascara. It took a conscious effort on her part to pry her eyelids apart. While she struggled to see me, I glanced at the name—Juanita—stitched on her uniform pocket.
Juanita rang up my purchases and told me the amount. As I handed her my money, I asked, “Do you know Virgil? I understand he comes in here often.” To myself I wondered if I’d remembered the name correctly. I’d only heard Mrs. Cooper mention it a couple of times.
Juanita’s face contorted as she wrestled her eyelashes apart. “He used to come in, but his new address is the county jail. He got himself arrested.”
“What’s the charge?”
Juanita shrugged. “All I’ve heard is gossip, but it has something to do with drugs.”
“He sold drugs?”
“Probably, but this has to do with making girls more receptive to his advances.” She cocked an eyebrow at me. “If you get my drift.”
I shuffled uneasily. Was she talking about a date-rape drug? I started to ask her, but figured all I’d get was more second-, third-, or fourth-hand information. I changed direction. “Do you remember Paige Cooper?”
Juanita nodded. “Yeah. She worked here for a while. Mousy but sweet.”
“Did she date Virgil?”
Juanita’s eyes opened wide, giving the impression that two hairy black spiders had crawled onto her face. “I hope to hell not. I warned him to stay away from her.”
I didn’t say anything more except thanks, and picked up my cans of soda and walked out of the store. As I approached the truck, I saw Dad talking into his cell phone. I took the time to lean against the truck and gather my thoughts.
Had Virgil raped Paige? I had a sick feeling that was true.
Why hadn’t she reported it? That question had an answer when I remembered how the photographs portrayed her shy, bashful demeanor.
Paige had told her mother there was a problem, but she would handle it. If she’d been talking about the rape, how had Paige coped? Had she gone for counseling? Or had she simply run away?
I frowned and stared off into space. It was a fact that she’d left home. But had she run away from feelings of degradation due to the rape? Or had the rape created another problem altogether?
A knot formed in my throat, making it difficult to breathe. My heart wanted to shy away from the scenario my brain was piecing together.
Dixie and Jacob had been lovers.
Shannon had been wild and carefree.
Paige had been raped.
My shoulders sagged. I couldn’t do this without help. I turned to the one person I trusted. “Carl,” I whispered. “Where are you?”
Since my husband’s death, the sound of his voice has been in my head, especially when I’m unsettled about a case. “You always talk to me when I’m upset. I need you.” Silence. I concentrated. “Please, Carl, talk to me.” Nothing.
There’s a place in my heart where I keep all my yesterdays—my memories of past pain and unforgotten deeds. I’d moved on. I’d made my decision years ago, but this case had stirred up former regrets to the point that I wasn’t functioning in a competent manner.
I thought of all the people I’d questioned. All the miles I’d traveled. All the information I’d collected but wasn’t able to pull together.
Carl was gone from me, but my father was here. What if I gave him everything I’d learned? Could he work out a solution that would leave my “yesterdays” undisturbed? It was damned tempting, but first I wanted to hear if he had any other theories.
I glanced in the truck and saw him watching me. I gave him a tiny smile and climbed in. “I was giving you some privacy,” I said.
“That was DeeDee. She’s the only one who has this number. She says Natalie called and is worried about you. You might want to call her.” He held out the phone.
I waved it aside. “In a minute.” I popped the tab on one of the cans and handed it to him. I opened the other can and took a drink. The cold, fizzy liquid felt good as it slid down my dry throat. I took another sip and put the can in the plastic cup holder on the console.
Rubbing the moisture from my hands, I lied, “I’m feeling better now.” I waited while my father took a drink of his soda. After he’d put the can next to mine, I said in a fairly normal voice, “I interrupted you earlier when you were talking about the case. Why don’t you continue while we drive to the lodge?”
At my direct request, my father’s enthusiasm bubbled forth. “You’ll have to bear with me cause I’m stretching my limited talents. But I think the note that was found near Marnie’s body could be the key to this whole thing.”
The note. Another point I’d neglected to consider. I massaged my temple. “You’ll have to refresh my memory.”
“I was eavesdropping in the foyer, but if I caught the sheriff’s words correctly, they went something like this: ‘Life is precious. There are choices. Meet me at the cornucopia sculpture tomorrow during the fireworks.’”
He cleared his throat. “I think it’s symbolic that the meeting was arranged near the cornucopia.” His face was a blur in the dashboard lights, but I heard the embarrassment in his voice. “That’s as far as I’ve gotten. I’ve hit a brick wall with my conjecture. I need more facts, and I just don’t have them.”
Grimly, I said, “I’m going to change that, Dad. I’m ready to tell you everything I know about this case.”
Startled, my father shot me a swift glance. “I’ll be glad to listen, daughter. This is what I had in mind when I came back to River City. I want us to work together.”
I blinked rapidly. Once he had all the information, he was on his own. I had to back away from this case if I wanted to preserve my peace of mind.
Chapter Nineteen
Before I related the facts I’d collected, I used Dad’s cell phone to call Natalie. After a couple of rings, she answered cautiously, “Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Bretta. You sound odd. Is everything all right?”
She sighed. “So far.”
>
I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“After Donovan left, the deputy came to the door and said he was being pulled off patrol here because of another emergency. I was uneasy being alone, so I invited Jake to come up here. We have all the lights on, and he helped me barricade the doors.” She lowered her voice. “To pass the time, I suggested he watch a video. I hope I’m not corrupting him.”
I chuckled. “I guess that would depend on your choice.”
“It’s an old Nicholas Cage movie. I find it depressing, but Jacob seems to be enjoying it, though I don’t see how an Amish man can relate to all those car chases. Where are you?”
“I’m in River City, but I’m on my way back to the lodge. I should be there in about thirty minutes or so. It sounds as if you have everything under control. I’ll be with Dad in his truck. We’ll honk three times when we pull up to the lodge.”
“I’ll be watching for you. See you in a little while.”
I said, “Bye,” and pressed the button to disconnect. After my father had tucked the phone into his pocket, I settled back on the seat. “Natalie and Jacob are alone at the house. The deputy was pulled off his post because of another emergency. Natalie says they’ve turned on all the lights and barricaded the doors.”
“That seems excessive. Does Natalie have a reason to think they’re in danger?”
“The morning after Marnie was murdered, Natalie surprised an intruder in the house. It’s understandable that she’s taken precautions, but the killer might consider her a threat on another level. Natalie was with me when I made a couple of discoveries. She wasn’t prudent when it came to keeping the details to herself.” I waved a hand. “In other words, she blabbed to the suspects. They’ve been put on alert that I’m interested in three women who used to work at Parker Greenhouse.”
“Three women? What’s their connection to Marnie’s murder?”
“Before I get to that, I need to tell you how I came across their names in the first place. Natalie found some old greenhouse personnel files in Dan’s desk. She thought it was strange that Dan had these files at the house. At my request, she called Dan and he told her that Marnie had asked to see the records for employees who’d worked at the greenhouse in the last three years.”
“Why did Marnie want to see them?”
“Earlier you said you thought Marnie had come to the greenhouse because she was looking for something. You were right. She was looking for information on her friend Paige, who disappeared three months ago.”
Amazed Dad asked, “Disappeared from the greenhouse?”
I tried to give Dad an assessment of the facts without my personal opinions tossed in to color his judgment. He didn’t stop me to ask questions, but listened intently to every word I said. I finished speaking just as we got to the Parkers’ private drive. Dad made the turn. We coasted up the bluff a few yards before he pulled over and parked.
“I can’t take all this in and drive, too,” he said. “Let me get a couple of points straight. Three young women worked at Parker Greenhouse for two weeks, told a story to their family and friends that they’d been transferred up north, and then went away only to come back with money.”
“Paige didn’t come back.”
“I got that, but money was mentioned before she left home, so we have to assume that a payment was involved just like it was with Dixie and Shannon.”
“That’s right. What other point did you want clarified?”
“Before we get to that, I want to know if you’ve determined what’s going on with these women?”
I quickly shook my head. “I’d rather hear your theories.”
“Why is that?”
I licked my lips, took a quick drink of my soda, and set the can back in the cup holder. “I’ve been too busy collecting information to try to make any sense from it.”
My father studied me in the soft glow of the dashboard lights. “I don’t think that’s true. What’s bothering you?”
Instead of answering, I said, “Have I told you about Dan’s orchid house?”
Dad sounded annoyed. “Is that relevant?”
I fought the nausea that rolled in my stomach. When it came to interpreting the facts, was Dan’s orchid program pertinent? I glanced at my father. “You’ll have to determine that for yourself.”
He sighed. “Let’s hear it.”
I swallowed. “Dan is trying to hybridize a new species of orchid. Natalie gave me a tour and a brief lesson in botany. I learned that plants have ovaries and male-sex cells. When pollination is successful the seedpods plump up. Natalie calls the area where these orchid plants are kept the maternity ward. Once the seeds have matured, they’re collected and germinated in glass flasks. These flasks are placed in a room called the nursery. They stay there until the plants are big enough to transplant.”
“I see,” said Dad. “That’s very interesting. I think I understand why you’ve told me about Dan’s orchids. But just so I don’t misconstrue your reason, why don’t you continue on, tying it into this case?”
My heart was hammering again. “I’d rather you did it.”
“Where is this reluctance coming from? It’s as if you have a personal stake in the outcome.”
A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. I wiped it away and massaged the throbbing pain. “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve been too busy gathering information—”
“You’ve already used that excuse.”
My chin shot up. “Let’s drive on, Dad.”
He reached for the gearshift lever but stopped. “I think you’ve already come to the right conclusion, but I don’t know why you’ve closed your mind to it.” He sighed. “You wanted my theory, so here it is. There are only two possibilities facing a woman with an unwanted pregnancy—abortion or delivery.”
Silently, I added one more—miscarriage, but that didn’t have a place in this scenario. I closed my eyes to keep the tears from spilling over. My voice was shaky. “Please go on.”
“When Jacob told you that Dixie was giving away the last link she had to him, I can only surmise she was talking about a baby. As you said, we don’t know if she was depressed when she learned about her father’s death or if she arrived in River City already despondent. But I have an idea she was experiencing postpartum depression.”
I had to make a contribution to this conversation if I wanted to keep my father talking about the case. “But why did these women go away? The stigma attached to an unwed mother hardly exists anymore. Pregnant young ladies march unashamed to the tune of “Pomp and Circumstance” as they accept their diplomas. Maternity wedding dresses are stylish and virginal white. Many unmarried women wear their pregnancies with pride. So why leave home to conceal their condition?”
“No reason that I can see unless a certain situation existed. One that would keep the woman from wanting her predicament revealed.” Dad shrugged. “I’m a great one for what-if questions, but what if Shannon was pregnant? Her father supposedly told her if she didn’t get a job and show some responsibility, she would be disinherited. What if Dixie was pregnant? She loved Jacob, but he made it clear he couldn’t marry a woman who wasn’t Amish. What if Paige was pregnant? Mrs. Cooper said Paige was a homebody, but she changed after attending a party. After you talked with Juanita at the convenience store where Paige worked, you and I both suspect Paige was drugged and raped by Virgil.”
“Why do you think Shannon was killed?”
“I don’t think her death was premeditated. After your visit, Shannon was probably worried that her past indiscretion was about to be revealed. She needed to vent her fear and anger. I would guess she called the one person who knew all the circumstances. That person arrived to console her, but Shannon couldn’t be comforted. Things got out of hand. The murder weapon was handy. You said the wrench was hanging from a strange metal sculpture there in the entry hall.”
“I hope you’re right. It would ease my mind that I hadn’t said something that led to her death.”
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“What else can I say to help ease your mind on other levels?”
I looked out my side window. My emotions were fragile and close to the surface because I’d kept a secret for years—from my family, my friends but, more important, from my beloved Carl. Since his death, when I’d felt used and abused and afraid, his voice had given me strength and guidance. I hadn’t heard his voice in my head once on this case.
A lone tear trickled down my cheek. There could be only one reason. I wanted to think that his spirit had entered my heart when he passed away, keeping us unified forever. But if he was in my heart and knew my thoughts, then he also knew the sad truth I’d kept from him during our married life.
My father touched me lightly on the arm. “Are you thinking perhaps these babies were sold? I know that idea is reprehensible, but we have to consider these young women were desperate to get out from under the responsibility of motherhood. I’m not saying I understand what it would be like to take money for a child, but that’s the obvious conclusion as to what happened. Witnesses connected to each woman admit that money was part of this plot.”
I squared my shoulders and dashed a hand across my face. “I’m ready to go on to the lodge, Dad. It’s been a long, long day.”
My father shook his head. “You are one stubborn woman, but I’ll respect your need for privacy. However, I do have one other point I need clarified.”
Reluctantly, I asked, “What’s that?”
He picked up the framed picture I’d taken from Dan’s study. “I looked at this photograph while you were in that convenience store. It’s a fantastic overview of this property. I assume you have it with you for a reason?”
Eagerly, I nodded. This was an area of the case that didn’t have any dark memories associated to it. “Dixie’s letter said she was in a cabin by the river. The Osage River flows across part of this property. I didn’t have time to look at this picture before I left to go to Alicia’s house. I snatched it off the wall on impulse.”
Unexpectedly, Dad turned on the dome light. I blinked in the sudden brightness and averted my face so he couldn’t see the tracks of my tears. But he wasn’t looking at me. His gaze was fastened on the photograph.
Reap a Wicked Harvest Page 18
