* * *
The following day Mariah phoned Sarah and told her all about Nick and Art’s firsthand news update. “Have you seen the morning report?”
“No, why? Have they found Natalie?”
“They have Carl in jail. Nick and Art watched while they removed him from his home in handcuffs. Nick said he was so intoxicated they practically had to carry him out. That was when Nick and Art moved on. I was watching the news this morning. They reported that one of the officers had a police dog with him and searched the house. They found nothing but junk piled in every room: stacks of empty booze bottles, dirty dishes, you name it. Another officer arrived with a bloodhound. When the K-9 led them into the backyard, it dug a hole at the south end of the house.”
“Oh no, Mariah, please don’t tell me the dog found Nattie.”
“No, no, it wasn’t Nattie, thank God, but Carl had buried all of her clothing. They found everything of hers – even her underwear. They said they’d keep him at the jail for more questioning. He’s now the prime suspect of her disappearance.”
“Her disappearance? Does that mean she might still be alive?”
“I doubt it, although they may have evidence that he’d forced her car over the cliff. The front of his truck has damage to the grill and bumper that looks to be fairly recent.”
“What do you think, Mariah? Do you believe she’s dead?”
“It’s beginning to look that way. Watch the news this evening. Right now, my students are beginning to arrive for their riding lessons. I’ll talk to you later.”
Mariah closed her phone. She shook her head, swallowed one last sip of her coffee, and pushed her chair from the table. She grabbed her leather vest and cowgirl hat then called out, “I’m off to my class, Bess! See you in a couple of hours.”
That evening, shortly after the children were sound asleep, Nick and Mariah relaxed in the living room. Mariah curled up on the couch in front of the television while Nick sat in his recliner, reading the sports section of the Huntington Tribune. When they heard the mention of Carl Larson, they both looked at the newscaster. Nick reached over to turn up the volume. “…He was released today when the police hadn’t found enough evidence between Mr. Larson and the disappearance of his wife, twenty-eight-year-old Natalie Larson. The police informed him that he was not to leave town, in case they need him for further questioning. We’ll keep you updated when we hear more.”
Nick glanced at Mariah. “One of the ranchers told me today that he heard their house was going to be condemned. I guess he’ll have to leave soon. Who knows where he’d go,” Nick added. He folded his paper and stood from his chair. Mariah remained on the sofa, her legs pulled up under her robe, lost in thought. “Mariah? Did you hear me?” He gently touched her shoulder.
“What?”
He helped her up and gave her a hug. “You’re worried about Nattie, aren’t you?”
She nodded, picked up the remote and turned the television off.
“Let’s turn in, honey. Tomorrow will be here before you know it.” He turned out the lights and led her to their bedroom.
Nick had just fallen into a deep sleep when the telephone began to ring. He imagined he was dreaming, until he realized Mariah was shaking his shoulder lightly. He looked at the clock and saw that it was two fifteen a.m. He sat up quickly to grab the phone and swiped his other hand across his face. He cleared his throat and mumbled into the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Nick, it’s Art.”
He raised his head in alert. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Mariah sat up at the edge of the bed and listened quietly. A frown on her face showed her deep concern.
“Ah shit,” he said, and ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll meet you at the stable in ten minutes.”
“I’ll round up as many men as I can, while I’m waiting. A big storm is brewing. Let’s hope I’ll be able to reach all of them.”
“What happened?” Mariah asked when he hung up the phone. She reached for her robe. “Is Art all right?”
“He’s fine, but he heard a commotion outside when he woke up to use the bathroom. He looked out the window and saw a bunch of horses running in fear and heading into the pasture.”
“Oh no,” she whispered, and slid her feet into her slippers, tied the belt on her robe and quickly followed him down the hallway and out to the kitchen.
Chapter Thirty-five
The lightning ripped across the sky and the ranch hands worked furiously to guide all the horses back to the stable. Lucky helped to herd them south, to the location from which they came.
“Good boy, Lucky!” Nick shouted above the howling gust. That dog certainly loved his job, day or night, thought Nick. He watched Lucky move quickly in the direction of a palomino that looked lost and distraught in the fierce wind, and blowing debris making it difficult to see. He was located about two hundred yards away, and beginning to rear in fright as the lightning cracked across the dark and threatening sky. When he saw Lucky coming toward him, his ears laid back, accompanied by his strongly swishing tail. Lucky circled around and came up behind him. The palomino stomped his feet, turned, and began to run south in direction of the stable.
Nick turned and followed Lucky while he herded the final horse back home. After he checked to make sure Lucky had entered the barn, he closed the double doors, dropped the heavy latch with a loud thunk, and headed to the office where a few of the men had gathered, and held mugs of fresh coffee.
“This was some night. Thanks for coming out, guys. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” He breathed an exasperated sigh. “All we have to do now is figure out who broke the lock on the stable door and opened every stall.” That entrance was the only location they were unable to see from either of the houses.
“Don’t know,” Art said, as he scratched the back of his head. “Who was the one to close up last night?”
“I was,” Nick said. “I did my normal rounds about seven p.m. and everything was fine.” He looked around wearily from one face to another. Every one of them held an expression of anger and frustration.
Art lifted his head and faced Nick. “Had Carl been released from jail yet?”
“They said on the news last night that they had to let him go. They didn’t have enough evidence to hold him any longer. Why do you ask?”
“Maybe it was him. Just a thought; he’s a strange man. I’ve never seen him sober since they moved into the Miller’s place. I think he killed Natalie. Why else would he bury her clothes?”
“I doubt he broke into the stable, but who knows,” Nick answered and looked at his watch. “It’s already five a.m. If you men need to head home for a couple hours of sleep, go ahead. The police will arrive soon. I told them there was no need to rush; no damage done, other than the door lock; all horses accounted for. I also called McGregor Locksmith to come and make the repair. They should be here in a few hours. I’m going to have another mug of coffee and check on the horses.”
The men looked at each other, then back at Nick. Jake put his hat on and said, “We’re all stayin’, Nick.” The others nodded, and headed out to start the daily chores.
“Thanks, men, I’ll arrange for some breakfast for the lot of you,” Nick said with a grin, and gave them each a nod before he went out to the corral. He looked up at the sky. Luckily, there hadn’t been much more than a sprinkle of rain. The heavy thunder and lightning had frightened the horses. He took in a deep breath of fresh air, and thanked the Lord for helping the men gather all twenty-eight horses that had run off in fright, and lead them back safely. At least the stable at the north end, housing the rescue horses, remained intact.
He turned toward the house and noticed Mariah out on the deck waving at him. He waved back and decided to get into his truck and head home, rather than call on the phone. He’d let the women know in person that he’d need breakfast for twelve hungry men.
* * *
“Oh man, was this aroma sent from ab
ove, or what? We’re being rewarded with this luscious food,” Art said when he inhaled the scent of bacon, scrambled eggs and hash browns.
“You may be right, Art. I often believe Mariah herself came straight from heaven. She’s an angel.”
“You can say that again. You’re a very lucky man.”
They started to unload the containers of food from his truck when they spotted the police on their way down the drive. They hurried to get the breakfast in to the men. Between the two of them, they were able to make it in one trip. Jake met them at the doorway of the cafeteria and took the warm containers from them. The men followed the scent of breakfast into the lunchroom and lined up at the table. Each of them grabbed a plate from the stack on the counter.
“Thanks Nick, we’ll save you some,” Jake told him. He watched as Nick headed back out the door to meet with the police officer.
“Eat all you want, guys,” he called over his shoulder. “I ate at the house while Bess and Mariah were filling the containers.”
“Hey, Burt. Thanks for coming by.”
“No problem. I’m glad your horses are all safe and sound.”
He led Officer Bedford to the barn door that had been broken into, and he wrote out his report. “No one saw anything?” he asked.
“No. Art phoned me at two fifteen this morning and told me he heard the sound of horses. When he looked out the window, he saw them bolt down the driveway. They took off in every direction, most of them headed west across the prairie. We were able to round them all up, but they were very frightened. I don’t know if it was from the wild storm, or whoever let them loose; probably both.”
The officer nodded. They walked around and looked for any sign of disturbance other than the door. They found nothing except hoof marks left by a stampede of terrified horses. Nick accompanied Burt back to his car.
“Is Carl Larson by any chance out of jail yet?” Nick asked.
Burt looked up and slowly nodded. “Why? You think it may have been him? We had to let him go last night. There wasn’t enough info to keep him. He was told not to leave town, in case we have any more questions. I doubt if he’d do something like this, right after his release. I’ll drive by there on my way out.”
“Thanks Burt. We’ll be checking every square foot of the ranch to be sure nothing else had been disturbed.”
“Sounds good. Let us know if you find anything. We’ll contact you if any information leads up to this,” he said, and climbed into his car.
Nick shook his head while he watched him drive away, then turned around and walked briskly back to the stable. He wanted to update the men and have them check the entire ranch grounds for evidence of any more disturbances.
* * *
Nick was in his office with Art when the call came in.
“Nick, this is Burt. For your information, this call is off the record. As your friend, I thought you’d like to know, before you hear it on television.”
Nick frowned and glanced up at Art, then listened as Officer Bedford continued.
“Carl is dead, Nick. He left a suicide note.”
“What did it say?”
“He said he loved his wife, and he’s going to join her. He put a gun to his head.”
Nick stood and ran his free hand through his hair.
“That wasn’t all. He suggested we ask you what happened to Natalie. I only wanted to prepare you, my friend. Officer Hutchinson is on his way out to your place to ask a few questions.”
Nick slowly replaced the receiver and lowered himself back into his chair. With a look of anger, he slammed his fist on his desk. His coffee sloshed over the edge of his cup and pens rolled across and fell to the floor.
Art bent down to pick them up, placed them next to Nick’s note pad, and looked him in the eye. “What happened, Nick?”
No answer came. He sat very still and stared at the door.
Chapter Thirty-six
Hutchinson completed his questioning and left, satisfied with Nick’s explanation as to where he was when Natalie had disappeared. Nick released a long sigh of relief. Art sat and watched him. The question hung between them, unasked, unanswered. What in the hell happened to Natalie…
“I really do think Carl ran her off the road and over the cliff,” Nick said quietly. The other men were just finishing up for the day, and Nick didn’t want questions or comments from them. The officer advised them to say nothing to anyone until they looked further into the case.
“I wouldn’t doubt it, and I don’t think the police do either. By what Mariah told you, it sounded like he hated her with a passion. Didn’t Mariah say she looked as though she was trying to get away? Maybe he’d suspected that and decided to follow her.”
“We’ll probably never know; it could also have been Carl who released the horses and now we have no way to find out. Well, let’s call it a day, Art. It’s been a long one.”
* * *
When he entered the house, he noticed Mariah sitting in front of the television, listening to another special news alert, with a worried expression across her face. She looked up when he walked into the living room, stood behind the sofa, and listened to the newscast.
“Have you heard about this?” Mariah asked.
He nodded, too drained to explain anything further than what she’d learned on the news. “Sure smells good in here.”
Mariah stood quickly and placed a kiss on his cheek. “You’re exhausted. Come out to the kitchen. I left your dinner in the oven set on warm. Hot beef sandwiches and corn on the cob.”
“Thanks, honey. Just give me a minute to wash up,” he said, and hurried to the bathroom. When he returned, she placed his meal on the table.
“Would you like a couple of dinner rolls?”
“No thanks, this is fine. Now what did you hear on the news?”
“Just that Carl shot himself and left a note.”
“Unfortunately it isn’t quite as easy as they’re reporting.” Nick continued to explain everything to Mariah that Burt told him.
“Oh no. Do they really think Carl was the one who ran her off the road? Please don’t tell me they actually believe she’s dead.”
“They’ve continued to search the area in Lake Superior, in hope of finding her, but it’s a large body of water; if she drifted out, they may never locate her, unless she’s been able to stay above the surface. They doubt that would be the case. They’ve had high winds this past week.”
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “This was delicious. It really hit the spot.” He leaned back in his chair and placed his hand on his stomach. I’d better get to bed though. Whoever broke into the stable may have done more damage elsewhere. We’ll have to check every square foot of the property. The men will all be here a bit earlier than their usual hour.”
“Okay, I’ll be in soon.” She stood from the table and lightly squeezed his shoulder. “I’m going to rinse off the dishes and prepare the coffee pot to brew in the early morning.”
Nick gathered his plate and utensils and handed them to her. “Where’s Bess been today? I haven’t seen her around.”
“She hasn’t been feeling well. I told her to stay in bed. She didn’t think it wise to be around the kids, so I served her lunch and dinner in her room. The last time I checked on her, she was reading and said she felt much better. She’s sure it was something she ate, and she’ll be fine in the morning.”
“Good. Well I’m going to take a hot shower, and get some sleep. I love you babe.” He gave her a gentle hug, a kiss on her forehead, and then disappeared down the dark hallway.
When she finished washing the dishes, Mariah looked at the clock. It read nine-fifty, and Sarah always stayed up late. She dried her hands and hung the dishcloth on the towel bar. Grabbing her cell phone, she went into the living room, sat on the sofa and dialed Sarah’s number.
“You still up?” she asked when Sarah answered.
“You know I’m always up until midnight.”
“Have you seen the evening
news?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry to say this Mariah, but I’m glad he’s gone. He was such a horrible man.”
“That still doesn’t give us any indication of what happened to Natalie.”
“Well, you know as much as I do about Carl. I’m beginning to believe he really did run her off the road. Eventually time will tell. If she’s still alive, once she discovers Carl is gone, she’ll most likely come home.”
“Sarah, didn’t you hear the complete report? She won’t be able to return. You saw how horrible it was. They not only condemned the house, but the property too. Three acres of land; he didn’t want to pay for the Pinewood Hills Waste Management, so he buried their garbage in the backyard.”
“I guess that explains the horrible stench.”
“The inside looked as if Carl was a hoarder, although I doubt that Natalie was. I think he forced her to live his way. She probably had no say about it. He was very strange indeed. If she’s still alive, she may not know it was condemned. She could possibly show up. We’ll just have to wait and see. I believe everything's pointing to him. He had such a satanic look in his eyes. He’s gone and I feel a lot better now.”
“I do too. If you hear any more, let me know.”
“I will. I have to get up early for my riding class. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Mariah turned off the lights then stopped at Nicky’s room. She pulled his blanket up to his chin and kissed him lightly on his forehead. She walked out and left the door ajar. When she entered the twins’ bedroom, she leaned her arm over the top bar of the crib and ran the back of her fingers across their delicate cheeks. She loved them so much. They were such good, happy babies. Having Nick, their children, and this large, newly built home, she thanked the Lord for giving her everything she’d ever dreamed of having.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Nick had completed the payroll and wrapped a rubber band around the stack of envelopes. He looked up as the office door opened.
“Hi Nick.” Jake entered carrying two cups of coffee from Starbucks. He set one of them in front of Nick.
Love on the Horizon (A Northern Woods Novel) Page 16
