“I was going to ask you the same question. I haven’t heard from you in awhile, and I was worried you might have worked yourself to death.”
“Not quite, but from the looks of things, I’ll be forever trying to get the rest of my things unpacked, not to mention getting this old place fixed up so it’s livable.”
“Know what I think you need?”
“What?”
“A break from all that work.”
Sinda couldn’t argue with that. She’d been working around the clock ever since she moved into the monstrosity she was dumb enough to call “home.”
“How about meeting me for lunch at Elmwood City Park tomorrow afternoon? If you don’t take a little break, you’ll end up cranky as a bear who’s lost all his hair.”
“I guess I could spare an hour or so.”
“Great! See you at one, and be ready for fun!”
Sinda grinned. Carol had always thought she was poet. Over the years, her friend’s goofy rhymes and lighthearted banter had gotten Sinda through more than one pity party. At least Carol taught me how to laugh. Sinda wondered what her life would have been like if she’d been raised in a normal home with two loving parents. Instead, her childhood had been filled with loneliness, disappointment, countless rules, and sometimes hostility. But it was all Mother’s fault. Dad went through so much because of her.
“Sinda, are you still there?”
Carol’s question drove Sinda’s thoughts back to the present, and she felt grateful. She was tired of living in the past. Tired of dwelling on the negative. She’d come to Elmwood to begin a new life, and she was determined to at least make her business venture successful.
“I’m here, Carol,” she murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow at one.”
Five
“I’m glad you suggested this little outing,” Sinda told Carol as they settled onto a park bench. She leaned back with a contented sigh. “It’s such a beautiful spring day, and everything is so lush and green.”
“It’s that time of year, my dear.” Carol needled Sinda in the ribs. “We usually get lots of liquid sunshine in the spring, but this year we’re falling short of our average rainfall, so it won’t stay green long if we don’t get some rain soon.”
Sinda made no comment, and Carol took their conversation in another direction. “You know, I was beginning to worry about you.”
“How come?”
“Ever since you moved here, all you’ve done is work. It’s been nearly a month, so I thought it was time you got out of that stuffy old house and did something fun.”
Sinda opened her lunch sack and withdrew the ham sandwich she’d thrown together for their Saturday afternoon picnic. “For your information, I have gotten out of the house a few times.”
“Really? Where did you go, Miss Social Butterfly?” Carol laughed and gave Sinda’s arm a little squeeze.
“I’ve been shopping a few times, made several trips to my storage unit, stopped at the Department of Licensing, and I had dinner at the neighbor’s one Sunday afternoon.”
Carol raised her eyebrows. “Which neighbor was that?”
“The one next door. I’m sure I told you about Glen and his daughter bringing me some cookies the day I moved in.”
“Yes, you did, but you didn’t say anything about having dinner with them.” Carol puckered her lips. “I’m surprised to hear you’re seeing a man. You’ve never been much for dating.”
“I’m not seeing anyone,” Sinda said, choosing to ignore her friend’s reminder about her lack of a social life. “It was just a friendly, get-to-know-your-neighbor dinner. Don’t read any more into it than that.”
Carol shook her head slowly. “I’m glad to have you living closer, but I’d be even happier if I knew you were truly at peace. You’ve had moods of melancholy as long as I’ve known you, and any time I’ve asked what’s wrong, you’ve always avoided the subject.”
“I appreciate your concern—always have, in fact. I’ve just never wanted to talk about my problems.” Sinda stared off into space. “Besides, talking doesn’t change anything.”
“Maybe not, but it’s good for the soul, which in turn brings happier thoughts,” Carol responded.
Sinda glanced back at her friend. “My work keeps me plenty busy. And I have a good friend who meets me at the park for lunch whenever she thinks I’m working too much.” She paused and winked at Carol. “That’s all the happiness I need. Besides, you should concern yourself with your own love life and quit worrying about me.”
Carol smiled and crossed her fingers. “I think I may have found my man.”
“Is it the guy you told me about who works at the bank?”
“Gary Tarrol is our new loan officer.” Carol elbowed Sinda in the ribs. “I don’t know what I’ll do if we should start dating and things get serious.”
For a minute Sinda wondered if her friend was as leery of marriage as she was, but then she remembered how boy crazy Carol had been when they were teenagers. In fact, Sinda was amazed that Carol wasn’t already married and raising a family.
“My motto is: Find the right guy and let your heart fly!” Carol continued. She batted her eyelashes dramatically. “Can you imagine me living the rest of my life with a name like Carol Tarrol?”
Sinda giggled. “It might be kind of cute. Especially since you like rhyming so well.”
Her friend grimaced and opened her can of soda. “Not that well. Maybe I should look for someone with a better last name.” She took a drink, then wiped her mouth on a napkin. “Now tell me—how’s business?”
Sinda frowned. “I haven’t done much advertising yet, so things are still kind of slow. There are lots of kids in this world, though, and just as many eager adults. I’m sure I’ll do okay once the word gets out. In fact, I’ll probably do as well here in Oregon as I did in the state of Washington.”
“I have a friend who might need your services,” Carol said. “She has a four-year-old daughter.”
“Tell her to give me a call. I’m sure we can work something out.” Sinda tossed her empty sandwich wrapper in the garbage and stood up. “Let’s take a quick hike around the lake, then I need to get back home.” As they started to walk away, she glanced over her shoulder. There were two young girls crouched in the bushes, not far from the bench where she and Carol had been sitting. One of the children wore her brown hair in pigtails. That’s Tara Olsen. Now, why would she be hiding in the bushes?
❧
Sinda stood in front of her open kitchen window, talking on the phone. “Yes, they’re quite safe in my basement. I’d be happy to take her off your hands,” she said into the receiver. “We can discuss the price further once I’ve taken a good look at her.” Sinda jotted a few notes on a tablet she kept near the phone, said good-bye, and hung up. Mrs. Kramer would be by soon with her delivery, then Sinda could grab a quick bite of dinner and try to get a few bills paid.
“Oh to be wealthy and carefree,” she murmured. “Even carefree would be nice.”
Sinda could feel a cord of tension grip her body, like a confining belt after a heavy meal. Her mouth compressed into a tight line as her mind drug her unwillingly back to the past. Dad had always stressed the importance of good stewardship. In his words that meant “Pay every bill on time, give God His ten percent, and never spend money foolishly.” Sinda tried to be prompt about bill paying, but now that Dad was gone, she no longer worried about giving God any money. Why should she? God hadn’t done much for her. First she’d lost Mother, and now Dad was dead. Didn’t God see her pain? Didn’t He care at all? Must the misery in her life keep on growing like yeast rising in bread?
She glanced around the kitchen, noting the faded yellow paint on the walls. The cream-colored linoleum was coming up in several places, and all the appliances were outdated. Was I wrong to buy this place? If Dad were still alive, would he lecture me for spending my inheritance foolishly?
The sound of a car door slamming shut drew Sinda’s contemplations to a halt. It
was probably Mrs. Kramer, since she only lived a mile away. I’ll worry about my ill-chosen spending some other time. Right now, I’ve got business to tend to.
❧
Glen stepped inside the back door, his arms full of groceries. He’d no more than set the bags on the table when Tara burst into the room. “Am I ever glad to see you!”
“Why, thank you, Miss Olsen. I’m happy to see you too.” Glen rubbed his hands briskly together. “It’s been a long Saturday, and after work I had to run some errands and grocery shop. Scoot on into the living room and tell Mrs. Mayer I’m home now. I’ll put away the groceries, then we’ll see what we can pull together for supper. What appeals to you, Honey? Tacos? Pizza?”
Tara tugged on his shirtsleeve. “I need to talk to you.”
“In a minute,” he said as he opened the first sack and withdrew a bag of apples. “Now do as I said.”
Tara turned on her heels and was about to exit the room when Mrs. Mayer poked her head through the doorway. A radiant smile filled her broad face, and her pale blue eyes twinkled. Glen often thanked God for providing this pleasant, Christian woman to watch Tara every afternoon and on the Saturdays he was scheduled to work. “Do you need me to do anything else before I head for home?” the older woman asked.
Glen shook his head and placed the apples into the fruit bowl. “Can’t think of a thing, Mrs. Mayer, thanks. Tara and I will see you at church tomorrow morning.”
“Sure enough. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Mrs. Mayer waved her hand and exited through the back door.
Tara inched closer to her father. “Now can we talk?”
Glen put the perishable items in the refrigerator, then withdrew a carton of milk. “Are there any donuts left from the picnic you’d planned this afternoon with Penny, or did the two of you eat them all?” he asked, ignoring his daughter’s perturbed look.
Tara shook her head. “We left a few, but Dad, we need to talk!”
Glen knew that Tara tended to be overly dramatic about most things. For some time now he had been trying to teach her to be patient and give him a chance to settle in so they could chat over a snack. Whatever she had to say could wait at least that long. “You get the donuts, and I’ll pour us each a glass of milk. We’ll sit at the table, and you can tell me what’s on your mind. Then I’ve got to finish putting away the groceries and get busy making supper.”
He started toward the table, but Tara halted his steps by positioning herself directly in front of him. “I think you should call the police.”
Glen’s eyebrows furrowed. “The police? What are you talking about?”
“Our neighbor. I’m talking about our new neighbor.”
“Sinda?”
Tara’s nose twitched as she pursed her lips. “She’s the only new neighbor we have, isn’t she?”
Glen frowned. “What’s Sinda got to do with the police? Did she ask you to have me call them? Is she having some kind of problem?” Even though he didn’t know Sinda very well, his heart squeezed at the thought of her being in some kind of trouble. “I’d better go over there and check on her.” He placed the carton of milk on the table and started for the back door.
“No, don’t!” Tara’s tone was pleading, and she grabbed his hand. “Let the police handle this, Dad.”
“Handle what?”
Tara pointed at the table. “Sit down, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
As soon as they were both seated, Tara leaned forward with her elbows on the table, and in her most serious voice she announced, “There’s a little kid in Sinda’s house.”
Glen drew in a deep breath and mentally counted to ten. “So there’s a kid visiting Sinda. I see. And we should call the police because. . . ?”
“Sinda is buying and selling children!” Tara exclaimed. “That’s against the law, and she’s gotta be stopped.”
Glen massaged the bridge of his nose. “Could we talk about this after dinner?”
“I’m telling you the truth!” Tara shouted. “Now, are you going to call the police or not?”
“What should I tell them?”
“Sinda is committing a crime. When people commit crimes, you’re supposed to call the police.”
He looked at her pointedly. “What crime has Sinda supposedly committed?”
“I just told you. She’s buying and selling kids! I know of at least one who’s locked in her basement right now.”
Glen was tempted to laugh at the absurd accusation. “What were you watching on TV today?”
Tara gave him an icy stare. “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not making this up. That woman is a criminal.”
“What sort of proof do you have?”
“I saw a lady bring a kid over to Sinda’s house a little while ago. When the woman left, the kid wasn’t with her.”
Glen slowly shook his head. This story was getting better and better. “So tell me again, what is it that’s illegal about baby-sitting someone’s child?”
“Sinda drove off in her minivan a few minutes after the lady left, but the kid wasn’t with her. She left it all alone in that creepy old house.”
“Maybe you just didn’t see the child leave with her.”
“There’s more, Dad.”
“More?”
“I’ve been watching Sinda for several weeks now, and—”
“You mean spying, don’t you?” Before Tara could respond, Glen rushed on. “I’ve warned you repeatedly about that—”
“But I’ve gathered some incriminating evidence,” Tara interrupted.
Glen clicked his tongue. “Incriminating—such a big word for a little girl.”
“Would you quit teasing and listen to me?” Tara demanded.
“Okay, okay,” he conceded. “What incriminating evidence do you have on our new neighbor?”
“I’ve seen her bring other kids into that house.” Tara frowned deeply. “Once she even brought in a baby who was in a wicker basket. I heard it crying.” She paused a moment and swallowed hard. “Remember when Sinda first moved in and we went over to meet her and took her a plate of cookies?”
Glen nodded. “I remember.”
“She was holding a doll when she opened the door, and she put it down really quick after she saw us. I thought maybe she had kids of her own, but then she told us she wasn’t even married.”
“So you naturally concluded that Sinda is up to no good.” Glen shook his head. “What else haven’t you told me?”
“I think that doll belonged to one of the kids she bought and sold. Today Penny and I saw Sinda and some lady with curly blond hair at the park. Sinda was telling the woman about her business, and she said she thought she was going to do okay because there are lots of kids in the world.”
“Come on, Kiddo. You don’t seriously think—”
“That’s not all,” Tara asserted. “Sinda keeps the children in her basement. I was checking her place out earlier, and I heard her talking on the phone. She was telling one of her customers that’s where she puts them.” Tara sucked in her breath. “Who knows how many innocent children are being held in that house, only to be sold on the black market?”
Glen leaned his head back and laughed. “Black market? You don’t really expect me to believe that a nice woman like Sinda Shull is involved in something like that!”
“Yes, I do.” Tara’s eyes filled with tears.
Glen sat there for several seconds, trying to decide how best to handle the situation. His daughter had always been prone to exaggerate, but this story was a bit too much. Perhaps Tara’s increasingly wild stories were just her way of getting his attention.
“Well, young lady,” he finally said, “there seems to be only one way to settle the matter.”
Her eyes brightened. “You’re gonna call the cops?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m not. We are heading over to Sinda’s. We’re going to get to the bottom of this once and for all!”
Six
A knock at the front door, followe
d by the sound of Sparky’s frantic barking, drew Sinda out of the kitchen. She bent down and scooped the little dog into her arms and opened the door. She was surprised to discover Glen and Tara standing on her front porch. “What can I do for you?” she asked hesitantly.
Glen cleared his throat a couple of times and shuffled his feet. “There’s a little matter I’d like to get cleared up. I’m sure it’s just a silly misunderstanding, though.”
“A misunderstanding?” Sinda repeated.
He nodded. “Tara–uh–thinks she’s seen something going on over here.”
Sinda alternated her weight from one foot to the other as she studied the fading rays of the evening sun dancing across Glen’s jet-black hair. Her gaze roamed over his face next. He looked so nervous she almost felt sorry for him. “What do you think is going on?” she asked, shifting her gaze from Glen to his daughter.
“I want to know why you’re buying and selling kids!” the child blurted out.
Sinda’s mouth dropped open, and she blinked several times. “What?”
Tara narrowed her eyes in an icy stare. It was obvious by the tilt of her head and her crossed arms that the girl was not going to leave without some answers. “Don’t try to deny it,” Tara huffed. “I’ve been watching you. I know exactly what you’re up to, and we’re gonna call the police.”
Glen backed away slightly, jamming his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans and staring down at the porch. “My detective daughter thinks you’re involved with the black market.”
Sinda could see that Glen was embarrassed, yet if there was even a chance that he thought. . . She forced her attention back to Tara. “I imagine you’ve seen a few people come and go from my house with small children.”
Tara’s eyes widened and she nodded. “That’s right, and you can’t get away with a thing like that! See, Dad? She admits it!”
“You’re an excellent detective,” Sinda admitted.
Tara looked up at her father with a satisfied smile. “I told you. Now can we call the police?”
Glen groaned and slapped his palm against his forehead.
Neighborly Thing Page 4
