Bringing Maggie Home

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Bringing Maggie Home Page 22

by Kim Vogel Sawyer


  “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  Diane swallowed a chortle at Mother’s tart tone. She’d witnessed her mother bargaining with vendors at farmers’ markets, but maybe when it came to fellow church members, she set her dickering skills aside.

  He lifted his head and looked Mother square in the face. “You’ll be expected to fill the gas tank while you travel, watch the oil level and add a quart as needed, make sure the reservoir doesn’t run dry, and give the insides a scrubbing when you bring it back.”

  Mother frowned. “Yes, yes, you told us all that while Diane was test driving. I have it all written down.” She tapped her notepad. “I’m still waiting to find out what we need to pay you for the privilege of using it.”

  “My standard rate is three dollars a day or three cents a mile, whichever is the least.”

  Diane’s jaw dropped and Meghan squeaked, “Th-three dollars…or three cents? You’ve got to be kidding. That’s less than a tenth of what rental places charge.”

  “I’m not a rental place.”

  Mother was spluttering, her face reflecting disbelief. “Rental place or not, you have to charge for the wear and tear on your motor home. John, be reasonable.”

  He shook his head, his expression serious. “That’s my rate. The only reason I charge at all is it helps cover my insurance bill. If I let other people drive it, I have to keep better coverage than just liability.” He flipped up the collar of his polo shirt and folded his arms over his barrel chest. “It’s available if you want to take it. All I need is a signed waiver that I’m not responsible for any personal injuries you might suffer while you’re using it.” He grimaced. “That’s to satisfy the insurance company, too. I can’t imagine anybody suing me because they fell off the step or something.”

  Diane could imagine a lot of people who would sue for things even less petty than that, but she had no problem signing the waiver. “Thank you again, Mr. Wedman. When we get our travel plans set we’ll give you a call and put the dates on the calendar. Is that all right?”

  “Perfectly fine. Funny, it’s usually off my property more than on during the summer, but this season’s been slow.” He shrugged. “Maybe God was keeping it here for you ladies to use.”

  His nonchalant yet introspective statement stabbed straight to the center of Diane’s heart. But the poke wasn’t as much painful as unsettling. She cupped Mother’s elbow and turned her toward the house. “As I said, we’ll call you when we’re set.” They still needed to arrange Mother’s doctor visit, and that could take a few days.

  He followed them to Mother’s car, then stood in the shade of his roof and waved as they drove away. Meghan leaned forward over the console, propping her elbows on the backs of the front seats. “I wish I’d thought to bring a measuring tape so we’d know how much luggage the storage areas will hold. With three of us being gone for two weeks, we’ll need a lot.”

  “Not necessarily.” Mother gripped the steering wheel and kept her gaze forward as she spoke. “John recommended we stay at KOA campgrounds because they usually have laundry facilities. If we take his advice, we can do some loads of laundry when we recharge the generator and fill the reservoir.”

  Meghan bumped Diane’s shoulder. “You seemed really comfortable driving it. Do you think you can handle it for so many miles?”

  A sense of satisfaction filled Diane’s chest. “Oh, yeah. No problem at all.”

  Mother shot a sideways look filled with understanding at Diane. “You are your father’s daughter.”

  Warmth flooded Diane’s frame, and she gave her mother a full-fledged, sincere smile of thanks.

  Meghan fidgeted as if an electrical current ran through her seat. “When we get back to the house, I’ll figure out the locations of KOAs along our route and see if they require reservations. Since it’s summer, I hope they aren’t all filled up.”

  “If God made the RV available, He probably has open lots at KOAs waiting for us, too.” Diane jolted. Had she really said that out loud? And without a hint of sarcasm? Mother’s smile and Meghan’s astonished expression assured her she had. She cleared her throat. “Either way, we can always find a Laundromat, so we don’t need to load the thing to the hilt with clothes. Or groceries, for that matter. Let’s plan out our meals and buy what we need at grocery stores along the way for, I don’t know, maybe three days at a time. That way our produce will stay fresh.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Meghan slumped into the back seat and released a big sigh. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this. Unbelievable. Someone remind me to call Sean this evening and find out if he’s got a date set to be in Cumpton for the investigation. We need to plan this so our days coincide with his.”

  Diane bit down on the end of her tongue, but Mother voiced the thought trailing through her brain.

  “If it’s meant to be, our days in Cumpton will be the same as his.”

  Diane gazed out the window, gritting her teeth. Since when did the idea of God orchestrating events seem natural to her? Mother was rubbing off on her whether she liked it or not.

  Little Rock, Arkansas

  Sean

  Shortly before quitting time, the double doors to the cold-case unit slapped open and the team’s captain, Ken Ratzlaff, strode across the scuffed hardwood floor. Every detective’s gaze followed his progress. As much as Sean respected Captain Ratzlaff for his knowledge and experience, he’d learned over his years as a detective that the man had a short fuse, and sometimes even perceived infractions inspired a verbal dressing down. So he tensed when the captain stopped on the opposite side of his desk and slapped a manila folder on top of his computer keyboard.

  Sean picked up the envelope and fingered its sealed edge. “What’s this?”

  “Your traveling papers.”

  Sean raised his eyebrows. “For Cumpton?”

  “Someplace else you need to be in the next few weeks?”

  Sean shook his head. He used his pocketknife to slit the top flap and emptied the papers on his desk. “What’s my departure date?”

  “I wrote in the twenty-second, and you’ve got clearance for a full workweek in Cumpton if you need it.”

  “So the twenty-second through the twenty-sixth.” Sean mused aloud, thinking of the preparations he’d need to make at home to be gone for five days. Summer was still in full swing, so the neighbor girl would probably come over and take in his mail, and the teen across the street could be convinced to mow his yard. He liked to keep his house and yard looking neat and inhabited—less chance of a burglar targeting his place. Still, it was amazingly easy to get away when no wife, children, or four-legged creatures required his presence. He pushed aside the thread of regret. “I don’t see any problem with that.” Sean searched the paperwork, frowning. “You’re sending me by myself? No partner?”

  Ratzlaff grimaced. “I could send Sanderson with you, but I’d rather he stayed here—kept working on solving that string of campus rapes in 1996. He ought to be able to go forward on that without you, and you won’t be so far behind when you get back from Cumpton.” He angled a wry look at Sean. “Does it bother you to travel alone?”

  “No, sir. Not at all. We just usually investigate in pairs.”

  “I figured DeFord might show up at the other end since the case is so personal to her.” Farber and Roach snickered, and the captain shot a glare in their direction. The two bent over their computers. He focused on Sean again. “If she does show, try to limit her involvement. She’s supposed to be on leave. Besides, this is a one-man investigation. Given the number of years that’ve passed, I’m not holding my breath on it, but I can’t in good conscience ignore it, based on what you’ve uncovered.”

  He might be gruff, but underneath, Ratzlaff had a good heart. Sean smiled. “Thanks, Cap. DeFord’s expressed her appreciation that we’re looking into her great-aunt’s disappearance. If she’s able to make it to Cumpton when I’m there, I’ll do my best to make her rest.”

  “Do that. We want he
r back in full force at the end of her leave. Overdoing could extend her absence.” He glanced at Sanderson, who was staring at his computer screen and biting his thumbnail. The captain shook his head slightly and turned to Sean again. “We want her back.”

  Sean nodded. Sanderson was okay no matter what the others thought, but Sean missed Meghan. More than he’d expected to. More than he’d ever admit. He wanted her back, too. “I’ll give her a call this evening and let her know I’ve got clearance to travel.”

  The captain headed for the doors. “Call her now. It’s an official case, and she’s a contact. I won’t dock your pay.”

  The moment the doors swung shut behind Ratzlaff, Anthony Johnson spun in his chair to face Sean. “You’re heading to Cumpton? You know that’s basically a jog in the road, don’t you? Not even three hundred people live there anymore.”

  Sean had already surmised the population had declined since the time Hazel Blackwell-DeFord resided there. “Yeah, I know.” His papers indicated the unit had arranged hotel accommodations in Bentonville, roughly a twenty-five-mile drive from Cumpton. He’d traveled farther distances for investigations before. “Excuse me, gonna give Meg”—he coughed into his hand, hoping the others hadn’t heard his slip-up—“DeFord a call.”

  Johnson smirked, but he settled his attention on his own work without ribbing Sean.

  Meghan’s phone rang four times, and he was mentally preparing a message to leave on her voice mail when she answered. At the sound of her voice, he automatically smiled. “Good afternoon. It’s Sean.”

  “Yes, I saw your ID come up. Sorry it took me so long to answer—Grandma and I are working on a scrapbook page and I had glue on my fingers. So what’s up?”

  Her perky tone let him know she was enjoying the day. His news would make the day even better. “I got my clearance this morning to spend a week in Cumpton.”

  “Really? That’s great!” A muffled comment followed, and he envisioned her pressing the phone to her shoulder and sharing his words with her grandmother. “So when are you going?”

  “The twenty-second through the twenty-sixth. I’ll probably drive to Bentonville Sunday afternoon so I can head to Cumpton first thing Monday morning.” With five sets of ears tuned in to his every word, he kept his tone clipped, professional, unlike the relaxed conversations the two of them had enjoyed in the evenings during her time away. It wasn’t easy to remain detached.

  “So soon?”

  She had no reason to curb her tone, and he clearly heard her disappointment. He frowned, shifting slightly so his back was to the others in the room. “What’s the problem?”

  She explained their intention to borrow an RV and drive the distance between Kendrickson and Cumpton, stopping at various points along the way. “We can save our sightseeing for the trip back and drive straight to Cumpton, but we’d have to leave first thing tomorrow morning for us to be there by the twenty-second.”

  “Not enough notice, huh?”

  “We can’t leave until Grandma’s seen her doctor. Her appointment’s scheduled for next Tuesday.”

  Sean’s concerns rose a notch. “Is she all right?”

  “Oh, sure.” Her overly bright response indicated subterfuge. “Mom and I want her to have a checkup before we go. You know, to be sure she’s up to such a long road trip.”

  He’d text her later to get the details, but for now he needed to stay on track. “Obviously it would be beneficial for me if she was in Cumpton while I’m there. She’ll know places and people and can offer guidance. But if it doesn’t work, it’s all right. I can investigate single-handedly, too.”

  “I know you can. You’re a great investigator. But Grandma really wants to help. We’ll see what we can get accomplished at this end to put us there for at least a few of the same days. I didn’t imagine the paper pushers would get things organized so quickly.”

  Neither had he. “I think everyone’s on edge with this one, considering the number of potential victims and the length of time that’s passed. So things got expedited.”

  Her sigh carried to his ear. A weary sigh, and he hated that his news had dampened her spirits.

  “Don’t sweat it, DeFord.” He used the offhand, casual tone he usually reserved for Farber or Dane. “One way or another, the case will be covered. I’ll talk to you later, all right?”

  At her dismal farewell, he disconnected the call and turned back to his desk. Farber, Dane, Johnson, and Roach were all grinning at him. Only Sanderson remained focused on his computer. Sean held his hands wide. “What?”

  Farber glanced at the others. “Sounds like you won’t have any company-paid rendezvous after all.”

  Sean clenched his jaw. He met Farber’s teasing gaze with a firm glare. “Meghan’s not that kind of girl.”

  A knowing glint entered the other agent’s eyes. “Okay.” His lips twitched, and he glanced at his partner before aiming a smirk at Sean. “When you talk to Meghan later, tell her hi from the rest of us.”

  Sometimes Sean felt like he was in a frat house rather than an investigations unit.

  Twenty-Eight

  Kendrickson, Nevada

  Meghan

  Meghan laid her cell phone flat on the table and pulled up the calculator app. She began punching buttons, thinking out loud. “Fourteen hundred miles divided by sixty-five miles an hour for eight hours a day…”

  “What are you doing?” Confusion colored Grandma’s tone.

  She didn’t glance up. “Trying to figure out how we can be in Cumpton before Sean has to go back to Little Rock on the twenty-sixth.”

  “When is the twenty-sixth?”

  “A week from tomorrow.” She poked numbers, frowned at the result, then groaned. “I wish I’d paid more attention in math. This isn’t making sense.”

  Mom set aside the pan of raw almonds she’d been preparing for roasting. “Let me do it.”

  Meghan leaned back and allowed her mother to take over the phone. “I didn’t intend to be in any hurry to get there, but Sean’s travel papers just threw a”—she borrowed one of Grandma’s phrases—“clinker in my works. What’s the earliest we can be in Cumpton if we go straight there, no stops along the way?”

  Mom put on her thoughtful scowl, what Meghan always called her teacher face. “If we drive for eight hours a day, which I’ve already told you is my limit, at sixty-five miles per hour, which is the fastest speed Mr. Wedman recommended, we can cover five hundred twenty miles in a day’s time.” She handed the phone to Meghan. “Of course, that’s barring road construction and presuming KOA campgrounds will be located at convenient intervals. Since the total distance is about fourteen hundred miles, then we’re looking at three days of travel. So to have at least one day with Sean in Cumpton, we’d need to leave here early on the twenty-third.”

  Grandma’s appointment with the doctor was set for three o’clock in the afternoon on the twenty-third. Meghan bit back another groan.

  “Three days of travel…” Grandma tapped a photograph’s edge on the table. “If we left first thing tomorrow, we could be in Cumpton and meet up with Sean the same day he plans to arrive.”

  “We can’t leave tomorrow.” Mom returned to the cookie sheet of oiled, salted almonds. She tucked the tray in the oven and set the timer.

  Grandma lifted her chin in a stubborn jut. “Why, yes, we can. It’s early yet. There are several hours left in the day for us to drive to John’s for the RV and get it packed.”

  Mom turned a stern gaze on Grandma. “Given the distance and the time allowance, I concede that it is possible for us to be in Cumpton at the same time as Sean. But we agreed you’d get the okay from the doctor before we set off.”

  “The doctor appointment can wait.” Grandma turned almost petulant. “This trip can’t. Not if I’m to be there to help Sean with the investigation.”

  As much as Meghan had wanted her grandmother to have a thorough examination, she couldn’t help siding with her. Especially in light of how much Grandma wanted to help
Sean in person. “She’s right, Mom. The timing’s all off now with Sean leaving earlier than we expected. We have to be in Cumpton for at least one day while he’s there. Maybe if we put Grandma on a cancellation list with the doctor, she’d get in before Tuesday. Should we try?”

  Mom gazed at her with her teacher face intact for several seconds, but Meghan refused to squirm the way her students would likely shrink beneath that glare. Finally Mom sighed. “Call and see if it’s possible to put her on the cancellation list.”

  Grandma aimed a triumphant grin at Meghan. “Hand me my phone, please.”

  Meghan slid it across the table to her.

  Mom gestured to the mess on the table. “Then put that scrapbook stuff aside and start calling KOA campgrounds. If we don’t have a place to park the RV, there’s no sense in taking it out.”

  “You can park an RV anywhere, even in a Walmart parking lot.” Grandma spoke staunchly as she scrolled through her saved numbers.

  “But we can’t fill the water tank in a Walmart parking lot,” Mom shot back, “so we need campground locations.” She flipped her hand at Meghan. “Start searching. While you two are doing that, I’ll make a list of the things we need to pack.” She rolled her eyes. “Good gravy, I can’t believe I agreed to dive into this whirlwind with the two of you. I must not have any more sense than God gave a goose.”

  Meghan hunched her shoulders and giggled. She wouldn’t touch a line like that.

  While Meghan investigated KOA campground locations between Las Vegas and Cumpton, Mom and Grandma retrieved the RV from Mr. Wedman and went to the grocery store. By evening, they had their stops organized and the RV’s cabinets packed with nonperishables. They kept Grandma’s washer and dryer busy with sheets, towels, and travel clothes all afternoon and into the evening. If by some stretch of good luck or karma or answered prayer Grandma got an earlier appointment, they’d be ready to take off the moment they left the doctor’s office. Assuming she received a good report, Mom reminded her. Meghan refused to consider any other alternative.

 

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