by Judy Nickles
“I wish he could’ve stayed here.”
“He’s going to have the time of his life, I promise. But he’s as worried about you are you are about him. Made me swear I’d take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself,” Penelope said, straightening her shoulders.
“Whatever. Miss Bayliss, do you think you can answer some questions?”
“I’ll try.”
Sam pulled an ottoman close to the sleeper sofa which was already made down into a bed. “Who was out there last night?”
“Roger Sitton and some other guy I didn’t know. Well, there was someone else in the study with Travis, but he’d been there a while. I didn’t see him come in, and I didn’t get a good look at his face when I went to tell Travis that Roger wanted to see him. He’d driven up to the side veranda and honked.”
“What time was that?”
“About eleven-thirty.”
“Why were you up so late?”
“I was waiting on Travis. He’d been gone all day—I don’t know where—but I needed to talk to him…tell him I was leaving.”
“Did you tell him?”
“He’d just come in and asked me for something to eat, so I warmed up some leftovers and took them to his office. That’s when I noticed the other man. Then Roger drove up and honked.”
“So Travis went out to talk to him?”
“Yes. I stood by the glass door and watched them. It seemed like they were arguing about something, and then Roger and the other man who’d come out of the house, started for the gin, and Travis followed them.”
“What did you do?”
“I went upstairs and got ready for bed.” Shana glanced at Penelope. “We hadn’t shared the same bedroom in a couple of months.”
Penelope recalled how she’d occupied a guest room for a year before moving home.
“You were dressed when I found you early this morning,” Sam said. “Why?”
“I took a shower and put on my gown, but then I heard something—I don’t know what exactly, but it gave me the creeps. Something coming from the woods.”
“What happened next?”
“I got dressed. I don’t know why—it just seemed the thing to do. I went outside on the veranda, but it was quiet.” She frowned. “Then I heard the explosion. The whole gin went up like tissue in a bonfire.”
Sam sat back. “Ah. Go on.”
And then I saw somebody moving around toward the back of the house…”
“Just one person?”
“Two, I think. I ran back inside to call the police and the fire department, but they must’ve followed me. I guess I panicked. I ran out the back door and wound up in the woods. I can’t explain why. I heard the sirens and remember thinking that everything would be all right, but…” Her face twisted as if she were in pain. “Maybe I could’ve gotten him out if I hadn’t run away…oh, God, what a horrible way to die!”
Penelope patted her. “Don’t think about it, Shana. Hopefully it was quick.”
“And you didn’t recognize the man with Travis?” Sam asked.
“No, but…but a few nights earlier when I was watching the news, I recognized the man the police picked up in Ft. Smith.”
“The one with the ponytail?” Penelope asked, ignoring Sam’s warning look.
Shana nodded. “That’s the one. He’d been at the Point two or three times in the last month. Travis seemed to know him, but he never introduced us.”
“Miss Bayliss, at the risk of sounding cliché, did you ever see anything going on you considered suspicious?”
She hesitated.
“I need to know.”
“About the time Travis started losing interest in me…” She swallowed and licked her lips. “About that time, he let the housekeeper go and closed up all the house except the kitchen, his office, and the two bedrooms upstairs.”
“How do you mean, closed up?”
“Shut off the heating and cooling vents. Drew the drapes. He always liked them open before. He said there wasn’t anyone around to peek in the windows, and he liked the light.”
“What reason did he give for letting the housekeeper go?”
“I don’t know, but he gave her six months’ salary in cash.”
“So it wasn’t a money thing?”
“No. He’d given me half a dozen charge cards I never used but once or twice, and he mentioned his profits had gone up in the last couple of years.” She chewed her lip. “I like to cook, so I didn’t mind fixing meals, but he was gone a lot, so there was just me.”
Penelope watched Sam digesting the information, eyes closed, chin in hand, elbows propped on knees. Are you a good guy or a bad guy? Did you sucker me? Sucker Daddy? Are you really holding him hostage somewhere? What are you going to do to Shana when you milk her for everything she knows? What are you going to do to me? Her nails bit into her palms, and she felt sweat trickling from beneath her arms.
Sam stood up. “Miss Bayliss, you’re going to have to stay down here, at least through the weekend. Mrs. Pembroke will check on you and bring you meals, but you can’t come upstairs, not even once.”
Shana hunched her shoulders and nodded without looking at him.
“Get some sleep, Shana,” Penelope said. “I’ll look in on you before I go to bed.”
Upstairs, Sam checked all the doors before he joined Penelope in the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” she asked.
“I could eat.”
In silence, she warmed over the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and baked beans. “Should I be scared?,” she asked when she brought his plate.
He picked up a fork. “That’s not a bad thing. It might keep you alive.”
“I don’t understand how I’m mixed up in whatever’s going on.”
“You don’t need to.”
“Bradley came by again this afternoon. He’s really hurting over his father.”
“I didn’t get the idea they were close.”
“That’s why he’s hurting. He never gave up hope they would be someday.”
“It’s too bad. I’m sorry.”
“He said the medical examiner wasn’t promising an ID anytime soon, so that means the bodies were pretty well charred. I’m thinking the fire was awfully hot.”
Sam didn’t reply.
“I know gins catch fire, spontaneous combustion and all, but Travis was always careful about keeping his cleaned out, and he never stored anything in there but cotton. The fertilizer storage shed was a quarter of a mile away. There had to be two separate fires to get it, too.”
“Any more meatloaf?” Sam held out his plate.
“If anything was going to catch fire from the gin, it would’ve been those woods you found Shana hiding in.” She refilled Sam’s plate and handed it back to him.
“I didn’t say that’s where I found her.”
“She did. And for the record, I wouldn’t have run into a blazing building either. Well, maybe if Daddy or Bradley…or I might panic and run the other way, too.”
“We’re only human. I want you to lock the basement door from the outside tonight.”
“Lock Shana in? That’s inhuman!”
“It’s for her own good.”
“Why? Do you think she had something to do with the fire last night? Is she a suspect in whatever was going on out there?”
“Just do it.” Sam carried his plate to the sink, rinsed it, and set it aside.
“Somebody trained you right,” Penelope said, realizing too late that the remark might sound sarcastic.
“Yeah, somebody did,” he said. “Go check on Shana. I’ll wait and walk you upstairs.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
(Wednesday)
Shana seemed brighter the next morning and said she’d slept well. Penelope found her asleep again when she carried the lunch tray down. Sam left at two. “I’ll be around,” he said just before he stepped through the back door. “But don’t call me—I’ll call you.”
Jerk! I don’t know how to call you, a
nd you know it. She cleaned the front room before she went down to the basement to check on Shana, who was watching family sit-com reruns on the television from Jake’s room.
“Did Sam bring everything on your list?”
“Yes, he did.”
“I’m going to break a rule and go out for a bit. To church, actually. I can’t settle myself down, but some time at St. Hyacinth’s will help.” She took a deep breath. “Did you know I’m locking the basement door behind me?”
“I heard you this morning.”
“I don’t know why exactly. Sam said it’s for your own good.”
“It’s okay.”
“I won’t be long.”
Shana grimaced. “I’ll be here.”
The church—dim, cool, and empty—enveloped Penelope with a sense of peace. She lit a candle and knelt at the altar. I don’t understand all this, but I guess You do. The problem is, I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing for the wrong reasons, or if I’ve gotten myself into a mess. And I’m worried about Daddy. I’ve never not known where he was before. I don’t really trust Sam either. I mean, he questioned Shana like a pro, but he could be crooked as a dog’s hind leg for all I know. I can’t ask Bradley…oh, Lord, please take care of my son! It’s not his fault he didn’t have a good relationship with his father. Maybe it’s mine. Maybe I shouldn’t have left Travis. I guess it’s too late to think about that now.
Penelope leaned her face against the rail and tried to will away her fear.
****
Bradley was waiting by her car when she came out. “You shouldn’t be here, Mother.”
“I had to come.”
He nodded. “I’ll follow you home.”
“Bradley…”
He waved her away. “Don’t ask me any questions, Mother.”
“All right, I won’t. Just be careful.”
“As careful as I can be.”
She touched his cheek before she got into her car.
****
(Thursday – Saturday)
Somehow Penelope got through the next few days. Mary Lynn, busy with the Black Walnut Cake Festival, called a couple of times but didn’t come by. Penelope found it easier to lie to her friend by phone rather than to her face. Bradley checked in once a day and asked about his grandfather. It kills me to lie to him about Daddy. If something happens, and I’ve covered up a scam…Lord, I’m so scared!
Shana slept a lot and watched television when she wasn’t sleeping. Penelope thought she seemed lethargic, but then who wouldn’t be, locked in a basement twenty-four-seven with no windows and nowhere to exercise? She thought a couple of times of sneaking the young woman upstairs under cover of darkness but decided Sam would know somehow and berate her for it.
Why am I scared of him, too, even if he’s on the up and up? Because he’s got Daddy somewhere, that’s why, and if I make him mad, and he’s one of the bad guys, maybe I’ll never see Daddy again.
Though the Weekly Bugle wouldn’t come out until the following Wednesday, the television news out of Little Rock kept the story of the fire—and the as-yet unidentified bodies—alive. Shana admitted she couldn’t bear to watch, and Penelope was too busy at six and too tired at ten.
Sam called on Saturday night and told Penelope to skip Mass the next morning. “Under the circumstances, I don’t think anyone will wonder where you are.”
“They’ll know I’m not mourning Travis Pembroke. And missing Mass is…”
“I know what it is,” he interrupted. “Just don’t go. When will your guests clear out?”
“Tomorrow after breakfast.”
“Wind up anything you have to and make sure you’re packed by Monday morning. Early. Like two-thirty or so.”
“How is my father?”
“He says it’s better than the old folks home.”
“You still won’t tell me where he is?”
“No. Remember—two-thirty Monday morning. Be in the kitchen with the girl. And leave instructions for feeding that cat.”
“You’re going to do it?”
“Someone will.” He hung up.
****
(Sunday)
The guests left early on Sunday morning. A few didn’t even stay for breakfast. Penelope took Shana a tray, then cleaned the kitchen and stripped all the beds. If she stayed hard at it, she could get them all remade and maybe a little bit of cleaning done, too. With the first load chugging away in the commercial-sized washer, Penelope took a break downstairs with Shana, who seemed more alert than previously.
“Sam said we were to be ready to leave at two-thirty tomorrow morning.”
Shana’s mouth twisted. “Do you trust him?”
“Sometimes. Right now, not so much.”
“How did you meet him?”
Penelope gave her a condensed version of the Sit-n-Swill incident and nearly fell off the sofa when Shana said, “I met him long before that.”
“You what?”
“I met him. He came to the house a few times between Christmas and the end of last month. He wore a biker get-up, but he wasn’t even close to being one. The way he talks…and one night, I had some classical music playing, and he recognized it right off the bat.”
“Why didn’t you mention this to me before?”
Shana’s eyes clouded. “I guess I thought you knew.”
“I didn’t. I don’t know anything.” Penelope took a deep breath when she realized she was on the edge of hyperventilating with shock at Shana’s revelation. “When was the last time you saw him? Before he found you wherever he found you, I mean.”
“In the woods next to the foundation of the old cabin.”
“Travis told you about that, did he?”
“He talked a lot about the history of Pembroke Point, and one of the first things he told me was that his ancestors had lived in a little cabin with a dirt floor when they first came out from North Carolina.”
“Uh-huh. Well, back to Sam. When was the last time he was there?”
“About a week ago. It had been a while before that. A month at least.”
“And you don’t know what he and Travis talked about?”
“No.”
“What did he call himself?”
“Bart.”
“I don’t like this,” Penelope murmured, leaning her head back against the sofa. “I don’t like it at all.” She debated whether to tell Shana about seeing a rap sheet for Sam, aka Eldred Mooney Frish, and decided against it. “Shana, do you remember if Travis was wearing his college ring on the night of the fire?”
Shana’s face went whiter than it already was. “His ring?”
“He never took it off. Not often anyway.”
Shana swallowed once, then again as if there were something stuck in her throat. “About a month ago, he showed me the safe, the one hidden behind the paneling by the fireplace in his study.”
Penelope nodded. “It’s been there since his father was alive.”
“He said he’d put some things in there…his will, the deed to Pembroke Point, a duplicate set of books for the business…and his ring.”
The last two words made Penelope’s heart grind almost to a stop and then restart with a lurch.
“He gave me the combination and said someone needed to have it in case of emergency. I asked him why he didn’t give it to Brad.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing, just handed me the combination and walked off.”
“And you never saw him wear the ring again?
“I don’t think so.”
“Where is the combination?”
“In the secret compartment of my jewelry box. Why? Do you think…”
“I don’t think anything yet,” Penelope said. “Listen, I’m going to break the rules and take you upstairs with me. We need to pack.”
“I don’t have anything to pack except what Sam brought me.”
“My clothes don’t hang on you, too much. You can raid my closet. Come on.”
A
s they hauled two suitcases from the closet in the hall, Penelope heard it thunder, then begin to rain hard. In her bedroom, she closed the blinds as well as the curtains before turning on the light. The rain beat against the window, tattooing her brain with the face and name of the only other man she knew who wore a 1970 UA ring.
“How long does it take to identify a body?” Shana asked as she browsed through the T-shirts in Penelope’s closet.
“No idea, especially when they’re…burned. And don’t forget there were two bodies. I assumed one of them was you, and maybe Sam’s counting on other people assuming the same thing.”
“Is that why he’s sending us on the run?”
“I don’t know.
Shana moaned and covered her face with her hands. “How did I get myself into this mess?”
“The same way I did, I guess. Travis could charm the socks off a snake.”
“You don’t really think anyone believes he was using Pembroke Point to run drugs, do you?”
“Well, the river access is convenient. In the old days, they hauled the cotton down there in wagons and loaded it onto the boats. Travis’s mother used to tell me stories she’d heard from her mother-in-law.”
“It’s too bad no one ever wrote a book about the plantation days.” “Travis used to say he was going to,” Penelope said. “It would’ve been nice for Bradley anyway.”
They dragged the suitcases downstairs to the kitchen. When Shana offered to help remake the beds and clean the rooms, Penelope decided to take her up on it. The girl needed something to do. Later, they sat at the table eating an early supper of leftovers. “I wish I knew where we were going,” she said.
Penelope chewed a piece of celery stuffed with pimiento cheese. “I’ll tell you where we’re going first—Pembroke Point.”
Shana’s mouth dropped open.
Penelope leaned across the table. “Listen, I’m not leaving here without cleaning out that safe. It all belongs to Bradley, and it’s only a matter of time before someone goes looking for it.”
“No one knows it’s there,” Shana protested.
“You’d be surprised.”
“Don’t you think the Point is still staked out?”
“Not after this long. The police have done their investigation. Now they’re just waiting on the medical examiner. The vultures have picked it clean, Shana. Now it’s our turn. And you can get your own things, too, if you want them.”
