“Josie, am I glad to see you!” he shouted. “Are you all right?
“Kate, why did you wander away like that? Where have you been? I was worried sick! Thought you’d fallen into the river.”
My daughter and I were alone with Grady Roundtree in the middle of a wilderness with no one but a dog to protect us, and from the way Amos was carrying on, he seemed to take to Grady as much as he did to Josie and me. This was not the time to make accusations.
“Got turned around,” I told him. “Couldn’t see to find my way back.”
“I called and called.” I couldn’t tell if Grady believed me or not. “Couldn’t you hear me? Why didn’t you answer?”
“The waterfall . . . all I could hear was the waterfall,” I said. “Sorry. I didn’t get lost just to worry you, Grady.”
My cousin grinned. “That’s okay. You found Josie, and that’s what matters. Where was she?”
“Asleep under a tree,” Josie told him. “An angel took me there.”
Grady winked at me and laughed. “Well, thank heavens for that!”
“How did you find us?” I asked my cousin as Josie pulled beggar’s lice from Amos’s matted fur.
“Darndest thing! I started back this morning as soon as it was light enough to see, when who should come running to meet me but Amos here!” Grady took off his hat to wipe his forehead. “Amos was the one who led me to you. Every time I tried to go in a different direction, he’d bark and run back and forth like a maniac until I followed him. Seemed to know where he was going—and since I didn’t, I let him have the lead.”
Grady frowned. “Josie, what happened to your foot?”
“I think I must’ve sprained it,” she said. “Mom’s been carrying me when we have to climb a hill.”
“My Lord! No wonder you look like you’ve been jerked through a knothole backward, Cuz!” My cousin began to take off his outer shirt. “No offense, Kate, but you do seem a bit worse for the wear.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just tired.”
“Your arms look like road maps with all those bites and scratches. Here, put this on. It doesn’t smell too good, but then, neither do we.”
Grady gave his shirt a little flip to put it over my shoulders, and when he did, something rolled to the ground.
Dear God, was it the battery? How could I pretend I didn’t see it when it was lying at my feet?
But it wasn’t a flashlight battery half-buried in the grass between us, it was a roll of film.
Grady reached down and retrieved it. “I’ve been carrying that blasted film all night. Dad loaned me his shirt when we started out and he forgot to take the film out of the pocket.”
I stared at the small container of film that was about the same size as a flashlight battery, feeling as if I’d been slapped in the face, then turned away so Grady couldn’t see my expression. Please, God, give me a break, and don’t let Grady ever find out what I had thought of him!
“How far do you think we are from Bramblewood?” I asked when I could compose myself.
My cousin scooped Josie up in his arms for the trek uphill and I followed gratefully. “Can’t be too far now, but we must’ve wandered off a long way out of the search area last night, Kate. Aside from Amos, I haven’t seen or heard a soul.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “How long have you been walking?”
“Forever!” My stomach growled. “Probably about two hours.”
“How did you know where you were going?” Grady asked.
“We followed the flowers,” Josie told him.
Grady set her down at the top of the hill and looked back at the way we had come. “What flowers?”
“Why, there was a path of them,” Josie said. “Blue and pink and yellow—so pretty! Mom, we should’ve picked some.”
I nodded in agreement. We should have, of course, because the trail of flowers wasn’t visible anymore.
With Amos running ahead, we walked for probably less than an hour before we heard someone shouting, and Burdette, and a man I learned later was from the sheriff’s department, ran out of the thicket to meet us.
“Thank God! I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy to see anybody in my life!” Burdette, who didn’t even try to hide his tears, wrapped me in his big arms, then took Josie from Grady to carry the rest of the way. I was glad to let the young policeman help me over the rough spots until we were in sight of Bramblewood.
The two of them had made good use of their whistles when they found us, so a group that must have been made up of just about everybody in the county was waiting to greet us, with Marge and Uncle Lum running ahead. Uncle Ernest, shirttail out and glasses askew, hurried along behind. Marge went right to Josie, Uncle Lum grabbed Grady and Uncle Ernest held out his arms to me. “I don’t want to ever, ever go through a night like that again!” he said at last.
“Neither do I,” I told him, trying not to cry as I was being passed from one relative to another. Even Deedee seemed glad to see us back. I managed to do okay until the crowd parted and Ma Maggie reached out to me. My grandmother held me until I had cried myself dry.
I scanned the crowd as we walked to the house arm in arm, hoping he would be here. Ma Maggie told me Uncle Ernest had shooed the media away earlier, but I was certain news of Josie’s disappearance had leaked to the press. If Ned knew Josie was lost, why wasn’t he here tearing the woods apart stick by stick to try and find her? But Marge and Burdette had arrived at the house ahead of us with Josie, and I didn’t see my husband anywhere.
But of course, he wouldn’t have had time. I had been in the woods so long, I had lost track of the hours, but surely he had telephoned, I thought. Ned must be on the way.
Naturally, Ma Maggie guessed what I was thinking. “Kate, we didn’t know how to get in touch with him, honey. Marge and I both tried to remember the name of that company he went with, but all we knew was that he was somewhere in California. You know we would’ve called him if we knew how.”
“It’s not your fault,” I told her. “I should’ve taken care of that earlier, but I had no idea she’d wandered off so far—or that we would get lost trying to find her.” Except for her swollen ankle and a multitude of scrapes and scratches, my daughter was fine, so there was no urgency in locating her father, but Josie would be eager to talk with him, and I knew he needed to be informed. I tried to phone Ned as soon as I got to the house, but the hotel lines were tied up and I couldn’t get through. He would just have to wait.
Water had never tasted as good, and I’m sure Josie, Grady and I must have consumed at least a gallon while Marge and my grandmother, with Violet’s help, put together a late, late breakfast of eggs, grits and ham with a huge bowl of fresh peaches and cantaloupe.
“I thought we had wandered off the ends of the earth,” I said over breakfast. “It was too dark to see and we couldn’t hear a soul. Didn’t seem like anybody was ever going to find us.”
“We would’ve searched over there today if you hadn’t turned up,” Uncle Lum said. “I think Casey looked some in that area yesterday until the sheriff told him to cover the woods below Remeth. Nobody had any idea you and Josie had gone so far!”
I helped myself to another piece of ham. “Neither did we,” I said.
Grady complained that Josie and I used up most of the hot water before he got his turn in the shower and I knew he wasn’t exaggerating. If my hand hadn’t been hurting where I had jabbed it earlier with a stick, I probably would have showered even longer. And fortunately for us, one of the rescue workers had medical training and was kind enough to stick around long enough to see to Josie’s ankle and bandage my hand. By five o’clock that afternoon, Josie was so tired she could hardly hold up her head, so we set up a cot for her in the far corner of the living room where I could keep an eye on her. I wasn’t ready to let my daughter out of my sight. Grady had fallen asleep on the wicker settee on the porch, and I knew I should try to rest, as well, but too much had happened to allow me to settle down just yet.
&n
bsp; Things began to quiet down after the rest of the searchers left, and Uncle Ernest drove off to see about Ella at the hospital while Uncle Lum and Aunt Leona escaped to front porch rockers where now and then they spoke softly. Marge and family had left earlier, promising to check back with us the next day, and only Violet, Ma Maggie and I remained in the house.
The old house seemed to echo after all the activity of the day before and the frenzied flurry on our return that afternoon, and the big room looked even grayer than usual with its frayed rugs and worn furniture where the faint smell of Uncle Ernest’s pipe tobacco blended with Aunt Leona’s Misty Glade cologne. But gray and quiet were fine with me. I was content to be just where I was, and stretched out in the squishy old armchair where I could keep an eye on my sleeping child. Ma Maggie and Violet sat across from me on the sofa, and from the expression on their faces, I think they expected me to disintegrate at any moment.
“What?” I said.
My grantmother lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean, what?”
“You keep staring at me like I’m going to break or something. I’m fine.”
“Good,” Ma Maggie said. “That’s fine,” and kept on staring.
“You don’t have to watch over me or anything. Nothing’s going to happen, so just relax, okay? Why don’t you two go home and get some sleep?” I was sure neither of them had closed their eyes the night before.
“I think I’ll stay until Ernest gets back,” my grandmother said. “I’m concerned about him. Something’s not right.”
“It won’t do any good if you get sick, too,” Violet said. “Your blood pressure’s probably through the ceiling already.” She made a face. “Let Belinda worry about Ernest.”
“Belinda’s not here,” Ma Maggie told her.
“I know she’s not here,” my cousin Violet said. “Left for home soon as Kate and the others turned up, but she doesn’t live that far away. Let her hold Ernest’s hand.”
My grandmother shook her head. “No, I mean Belinda’s not in town. I think she went to a daughter’s or something.” She lowered her voice. “I heard Ernest tell her to go away.”
“What do you mean?” Violet leaned forward with the beginning of a smile on her face. “I thought they were a couple now.”
“Oh, not like that!” Ma Maggie waved her hand. “He told her he’d feel a lot better if she went away for a few days. After what happened yesterday with the yellow jackets and all, Ernest said he thought she’d be safer somewhere else.”
For once Cousin Violet was speechless. But not for long. “For heaven’s sakes, surely Ernest doesn’t think that attack was planned. You can’t train a bunch of bees to go after a person!”
“No, but it looks like somebody deliberately hid her purse, and I’m beginning to think it wasn’t Hartley.” My grandmother peered over the sofa to see if Josie was listening, but I could have assured her my daughter was sleeping too soundly to hear anything we said. “In fact,” she went on, “if it weren’t for Hartley playing with Belinda’s purse, we might not have found that antidote in time.”
“Still, Violet has a point,” I told them. “It isn’t going to do Uncle Ernest or Belinda or anybody else any good for you two to stick around any longer. I’m going to sleep down here on the sofa tonight, and I doubt if Uncle Lum and Aunt Leona—or Grady, either—will be going anywhere until tomorrow at least.”
“Won’t be going then unless we get some of this mess cleared up,” Violet said, raising a brow—or trying to. “That nice young policeman—the one who’s been talking to Ernest so much lately—well, he told everybody not to go anywhere for a while.”
“What? When did this happen?” I glanced at my grandmother. Sometimes Violet gets things all mixed up.
But Ma Maggie didn’t dispute it. “Well, not everybody,” she said, nodding. “Just those of us who were here when that happened to Ella. It was while you all were gone, Kate. That fellow from the sheriff’s department was here most of the day while everybody was out looking for you and Josie—Grady, too. He said he thought it best if we didn’t stray far from Bishop’s Bridge for a few days. Just until they can get to the bottom of all this.”
“I reckon he must think one of us pushed poor old Ella into that gully,” Violet said. “Although for the life of me, I can’t imagine why.” She shook her head at me. “I hope you have a good alibi, Kate.”
“It’s not funny, Violet!” My grandmother stood and gathered her things. “None of this is funny. Somebody gave poor Ella a shove, and somebody took Belinda’s purse and hid it where they didn’t think we’d find it—not in time, anyway.”
Cousin Violet folded plump arms across her ample bosom. “Well, I can assure you, it wasn’t me! Why, my dear Hodges used to say I didn’t have a mean bone in my body.”
Ma Maggie said it wasn’t her, either, and that she wasn’t going to worry about it any more tonight, but was going home to bed, and if we had any sense at all we’d do the same.
My cousin Violet had her eccentricities but I never considered her capable of murder any more than I had my own grandmother. For a while, I had even suspected my cousin Grady, but now I wasn’t even sure about that. Then who? I wondered. And more importantly, why?
Before she left for home, Ma Maggie patted my shoulder, planted a light kiss on my forehead and told me to go to sleep. I could see her darting obvious glances at Violet, urging her to do the same, but as usual, her cousin ignored her. From the way Violet was acting, I guessed she had something to tell me she didn’t want my grandmother to hear. And I was right.
Violet waited until we heard Ma Maggie say good-bye to Uncle Lum and Aunt Leona, cross the porch and start down the steps before she shoved Uncle Ernest’s old hassock next to my chair and plopped down beside me. “Now, I don’t want to alarm your grandmother,” she said under her breath. “You know how worked up she gets sometimes over the least little thing . . .”
“Uh-huh,” I said, trying not to smile.
“Look, I know you all think I’m just a crazy old woman, and maybe I am,” she said, “but Maggie’s right about one thing. Something’s mighty wrong here, and I think I know who’s at the bottom of it.”
I looked at Violet. The woman was completely serious. “I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to one of you,” my cousin went on. “But I’ll need you to help me, Kate.”
When she reached for my hand, I couldn’t ignore the chipped purple nail polish and a bracelet that looked as if it came from a box of Cracker Jack, but for some reason I wanted to believe her—at least long enough to listen to whatever she had to tell me.
But before Violet had a chance to speak, Uncle Ernest phoned to tell us that Ella had died.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“There’s nothing you or anyone can do,” Uncle Ernest told Aunt Leona when she and Uncle Lum offered to meet him at the hospital.
“He’s on his way home,” my aunt said, hanging up the phone. “Said he’d make arrangements in the morning. Poor man must be exhausted.”
We all were, and since I would be sleeping on the living room sofa, I offered Violet my bed so she wouldn’t have to drive home so late at night.
“I don’t suppose Ella mentioned anything else about who might have attacked her,” Violet said.
“Uncle Ernest said she slipped away peacefully without regaining consciousness,” my aunt told her.
“I doubt if she knew,” Uncle Lum said. “And even if she did, we’ll never find out now.”
Cousin Violet squeezed my hand as she left to go upstairs. “Talk to you in the morning,” she whispered.
Grady stumbled past me sleepily, mumbled good night, then followed his parents upstairs, and I found an extra pillow and a light blanket for the sofa and checked to see if Josie was still asleep. My daughter hadn’t moved from the position she’d been in earlier and I risked a light kiss on her cheek as I adjusted her covers. I decided to try calling Ned before I went to bed, and braced myself for his response. My husband was going to
be angry that I hadn’t gotten in touch with him sooner.
But I reached the hotel desk only to be told that Ned McBride had checked out earlier. And no, he said, Mr. McBride had left no word as to where he might be reached.
I thought I would drop off to sleep the minute my head hit the pillow. Wrong! I listened to every breath my daughter took, then heard Uncle Ernest drive up, come through the back way and go quietly to his room, wondering the whole time why Ned had left the seminar in California before it was due to be over. Had they rescheduled his speech? And wasn’t he supposed to have been on some sort of panel, as well, I thought. If my husband had heard about Josie’s being lost, he would certainly have telephoned somebody at Bramblewood, but no one here had heard from him. So where was he?
I was turning over my pillow for the third time when I caught a whiff of a most delightful aroma coming from the kitchen and knew Augusta must be there.
“Tea or coffee?” she asked, lifting dark, moist brownies onto a leaf-patterned plate. “I thought we might take these out on the porch. It’s cooler there now and everyone else seems to have gone to bed.”
Penelope, in a daisy-sprigged shift of simple design with eyelet trim at the neck, pinched off the corner of a steaming cake and popped it into her mouth.
“Why, Penelope!” Augusta pretended to be shocked, but she smiled when she said it. We loaded a tray with the brownies, plus milk for Penelope, peppermint tea for me and dark, rich coffee for Augusta, and made our way to the porch, quietly skirting Amos sleeping by Josie’s cot.
“Thank you, Penelope, for looking after Josie last night,” I said as soon as we were settled. “I’m so glad you were with her. You probably saved her life.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, and I could see the young angel’s smile even in the dark.
The brownies were as good as they looked and smelled, and tasted of dark chocolate and strawberry jam. I ate two of them and licked my fingers after every bite. I waited until Penelope had fallen asleep on the settee before I spoke.
The Angel Whispered Danger Page 15
