Anger hit her. “Even if Tracy and Chase did steal that song, anyone who would use an innocent child in a scheme like Farel’s is despicable. And, look at the result.”
She wasn’t sure Bobby Lee understood despicable, but he sure understood her tone.
‘‘Farel wouldn’a let anyone touch Dulcey or hurt her. He wouldn’a!”
“But what happened then? Don’t you have any idea who took Dulcey?”
He looked at the tabletop. “Nah. Nothin’ more than what I said. I never saw Farel yesterday.”
They sat in silence, eating popcorn. She could hear him chewing. It sounded so ordinary. Two people sitting in a picnic pavilion sharing popcorn. It was such an ordinary thing to do.
She said, “What was in his house that you wanted to destroy? And how did you know Farel wouldn’t ever need that house, or what was in it, again?”
“I overheard your 911 phone call. I had a bad feeling about it and went to the dressmaker’s shop. When I said I never saw Farel yesterday, I meant I never saw him alive.”
“What in that house needed to be destroyed?”
“If you can’t figure it out, I’m not saying. If I told you more now, I’d have to make it up, because I will never talk to anyone about it. Not ever. Farel’s dead. What’s past in his life is dead too. I saw to that. It’s over.”
“No, it isn’t, Bobby Lee. Someone must pay for Farel’s murder. Unless you killed him yourself, you must agree to that. And what about Dulcey? Who has her? Are you sure you don’t have any idea about that? Can’t you help?”
He got to his feet and stood over her, so big that his body shaded hers. “I’d look in the hills behind here if I was you. A family lives there. Stays to themselves. You just ask around. Look in the hills. I can’t say more. I like my life too much. I’ve even got a special girl now. I may just get married some day. Anyway, I can’t say more.”
“Well, Bobby Lee, for the sake of your special girl, I hope you learn to handle that temper of yours. If you don’t, there’s good in your life that may not last either.”
“Yeh, mebbe, but I didn’t kill Farel. I’m sure you know that now. As far as someone paying for his murder? That’s on Mason’s ticket. I figure the two of them had a face-off and Farel lost. But maybe it’s better left to settle in the dust of these hills. How’d you like it if Dulcey’s daddy was a killer? As for temper, well, Chase Mason’s got one too.”
Carrie didn’t respond for a moment. Then she said, “And there is nothing more you’ll tell me?”
“You just think about what I said. I’m gonna eat lunch now and go back to work. Lots of tourists today. If you want to buy a knife you can come see me at the blacksmith’s shop. If two hundred dollars is too much, I have some cheaper. If you want anything else of me, forget it. We never had this conversation— you’ve been asking about having a knife made, and now, you’re outta my life. I wish you luck in finding Dulcey, I do.”
She watched Bobby Lee Logan stride out of the pavilion and disappear among the people on the sidewalk, then turned back to the picnic table, rested her elbows on it, and put her chin in her hands. She sat silently for a few minutes, ignoring the sounds behind her as tourists began to line up for the snack shop lunch buffet.
Suddenly she remembered Bobby Lee Logan’s voice saying, “She has a good eye...could throw... straight as an arrow.”
Carrie jerked her head up and pounded her fist on the table, bouncing popcorn in all directions.
“Whoa there, my girl,” said a rumbling male voice.
Carrie got up so fast she almost fell backwards over the picnic bench. She turned and held out her hands, but Henry ignored them. In a minute she was leaning over the bench with her face mashed against his chest. The bench began to topple, but fortunately it had no place to topple to. It, like Carrie, was caught against Henry’s massive form.
The hug lasted a long time. Then Henry moved back, set the bench firmly in place, and said, “Well, it sounds like we’re putting broken things back together again. So, what’s the plan, Detective McCrite?”
She couldn’t help it. She began to laugh.
Chapter XI
“I get the idea,” said Henry, studying her face, “that wood carving and herb growing are no longer our main interests here. I brought the things you asked for, but what are we going to do with that stuff?”
“Have you eaten lunch yet?”
“No.”
“Have you checked in?”
“No. I meant to, but I took a wrong turn and ended up out front instead. I came in to ask directions and decided to see if the lady at the information desk knew where you were. She remembered that you had gone through into the craft area an hour or so ago.”
So much for trying to remain anonymous, Carrie thought. I might as well have worn my badge and saved the entrance fee.
“Well,” she said, “it’s lunchtime, and we need privacy so I can tell you all that’s been happening. If we keep our voices down, I think the restaurant across the way is the best place. Food’s great, and I don’t want to take time to drive into town. Is that okay?”
“Sure, lead the way. But shouldn’t I go check in before we eat?”
“Um, no, let’s talk first, we may need to change our plans a bit.” To avoid further discussion about room arrangements until Henry fully understood what was going on, she asked, “How’s FatCat?”
“Happy at Shirley and Roger’s. Probably stretched out on the back of their couch enjoying the sun from that south window. I took her down there this morning.” He hesitated, looking at her sideways as he opened the entry door to the administration building. “While she was at my house, I let her sleep with me so she wouldn’t be too lonely.”
“Lonely, phooey! That cat loves attention and doesn’t care where she gets it as you know quite well. She’s just as happy with you or with Shirley and Roger as she is with me...probably even happier, since you spoil her, and I make her follow house rules, or at least my house rules. No sleeping on human beds, and especially no getting on a bed when I’m in it. She purrs too loudly for one thing. Sounds like a motor scooter with a bad muffler. When her motor goes on, I wake up.”
“Purr doesn’t bother me, it’s kind of soothing, and of course she misses you. Besides, you weren’t in my bed. She knew that as well as I did, so we didn’t break your rules.”
“Hmpf,” said Carrie, not looking at him as she led the way into the dining room and asked the hostess for her favorite window table.
She pointed Henry into a chair facing the windows so he could see the forested hilltop and bird feeders. As soon as they were both seated, he asked, “What happened to your face?”
Surprised, she touched her scraped cheek. “I thought my make-up pretty much covered it. Beth and I had breakfast together and she didn’t notice or comment.”
“Does that mean I’m supposed to notice and comment, or I’m not? Even after one failed marriage, which should have taught me something, and all these years around women, I’m not sure I understand.”
“What if I were a man?”
“I’d probably say, ‘Hey, who’ve you been fighting with?’”
“Hmmm. I’m curious then, a male friend or me... which one would you have more sympathy for over a scratched face?”
“Is this one of your trick questions? I’d have more sympathy for you, of course, make of that whatever you will. I don’t want you hurt, and I don’t want this discussion, either, so it stops here. Now, how did your face get scratched?”
She laced her fingers together and looked down at them, realizing that, after all, Henry’s concerns about her welfare always touched and comforted her. She thought of how the Bible frequently mentions God comforting His children. Perhaps Henry’s concern was one way the promised comfort was being shown. She’d have to think more about it, but, for now, she guessed she should show she was grateful.
Still, it was hard to say anything aloud. Finally she managed, “I do appreciate the concern.”
> The words sounded stiff and formal, but it was too late to call them back or substitute the softer phrase, “I’m glad you care,” which was how she’d answered him inside her head.
“My scraped face is part of the whole story, so I’ll fit it in at the right place, but, first things first. Here comes the waitress. I can recommend several things...”
After they’d ordered, specifying separate checks, Henry leaned forward in his chair. “I’m listening,” he said.
Speaking as quickly as she could, she began telling him everything that had happened since the time—was it only yesterday afternoon?—when she had seen the woman in the woods. Henry’s face remained almost expressionless as he listened, but the familiar line between his widely spaced brown eyes deepened as she got to the part about the murder of Farel Teal and the probable second kidnapping. She described everything she’d noticed in the dressmaker’s shop, hoping she was doing a good job, hoping he would now know how carefully she had listened to his advice about observing and remembering. Surely his years of experience in the criminal investigation division of the Kansas City Police Department would help bring some enlightenment to this terrible mess.
He held up a hand. “Tell me what you thought when you looked at those scissors and the wound.”
Ahhh. She waited a minute before answering, not because she had no opinion, but because she was savoring the awareness that he wasn’t treating her like a squeamish female who must be protected from thinking about such dreadful details.
“The scissors aren’t what killed Farel Teal.”
“I agree. Knife, maybe. Very sharp, wide, double-edged blade. But why the substitution?”
She shook her head, warning him as the waitress came to put bowls of bean soup and a plate of cornbread on the table, and walked away. Carrie pushed the dishes of Peach and Apple Chunky nearer his plate and said, “Because the knife, maybe even the fact a knife was used, could help identify the killer. I’m sure I know where the knife came from, and you’ll see why in a minute.” She returned to her recitation, pausing at intervals to take bites of food and see if Henry had questions. But he was silent, listening while he ate.
After she had described Farel’s house, the knife display case and its contents, the fire, the rush back to the car and to town, Henry said, “I wish I had been with you, Cara.”
She smiled up at him, and then began to speak more slowly, choosing words carefully.
“Henry, something is really bothering me. I thought in the beginning that, because she’s so tiny, and he was so big and strong, there was no way Tracy could have stabbed Farel from the front.”
He nodded. “He’d have seen her coming at him, and if he’s tall, she’d need to reach up, making her movements even more evident.”
“Well, what about throwing the knife?”
“Throwing...?”
She told Henry about Bobby Lee and what he’d said, then waited.
“Hmm, I suppose it would be possible. If the knife hit him just right, it could kill. Even a good, forceful thrower would have to be lucky for the blow to hit like that, missing the ribs. But, the motive?”
“I don’t know, but if it was about Dulcey...oh, glory, Henry, I hate to think of it.”
He frowned. “I know.” He tilted his bowl to finish the last bite. “Where are the Masons now?”
She returned to her story, ending with an explanation of what was going on at Brigid’s house and why there was a need to get Tracy and Chase away from the public eye. Then she took a deep breath and rushed on, telling him her plan for concealing the young couple over the weekend.
When she had finished, Henry sat quietly for a moment, then said, “Fine, good idea. Dessert?”
“Not for me. Eating cornbread drowned in sweet peaches is plenty. But, there’s berry cobbler...”
When Henry had ordered blackberry cobbler with ice cream, Carrie spoke again, “Of course Eleanor could move in with me, and you and Jason could room together, but I think it would be best if both a man and woman were close to Chase and Tracy most of the time. Jason and Eleanor can stay with them and see if they say anything that puts light on this mess while you and I try to locate Dulcey. Henry, we must find her, that’s the important thing, no matter who killed Farel. Or, do you think Chase and Tracy should just pay the ransom, if that’s what the kidnappers want, and get Dulcey back that way?”
“Sometimes that works. Sometimes it doesn’t. If the parents seem willing to pay once, why not twice... or more? It’s always a gamble, a gamble with a child’s life. And you should have told the sheriff—you know that. Surely you don’t think we can save that child by ourselves?”
“I wanted to call in the sheriff, but the Masons wouldn’t allow it, and I really can’t blame them. Besides, you and I don’t know anything about law enforcement in this county. How sophisticated are they, how would they handle something as delicate as this? And we have special advantages the sheriff could never have, especially for approaching the Culpepers. I’m a pudgy, innocent-looking older woman whose name just happens to be Culpeper. The way you’ll be dressed will help you fit in too, and no Culpeper here except Margaret has ever seen either of us.”
He answered slowly, thinking aloud. “Umm. We won’t look at all like the law, and that woman’s name is Culpeper...”
“Yes. We’ll find where the Culpepers live and talk with Margaret. Remember what the Masons told me? Law enforcement won’t go near them. We can. I want to learn the meaning of that strange story about a beast taking a child.”
She smiled up at him. “Henry, I feel just like you do. I don’t want you hurt either, but it seems to me that the two of us, looking like what we are, plain folks, will be perfectly safe.”
“Hmmm... yes.”
She knew she was winning him over. He was looking at her thoughtfully and had reached out to put his hand over hers when a pair of voices said, “Hi,” in unison.
“Thought we’d find you two together where the food is,” said Jason Stack as he dropped into the chair across from Henry, and Eleanor came around to accept Carrie’s hug.
“You’re early,” Carrie said. “We weren’t expecting you until later this afternoon. I’m glad you’re here, though. Have you eaten?”
Eleanor nodded. “I wanted to stop over in Eureka Springs, so we decided to leave a day early and spend last night there. It’s a good place to shop for the grandchildren’s birthdays. There’s this little store on Spring Street where they sell handmade wooden toys, and...”
“Yes, yes,” interrupted Jason. “We came, we shopped, we left. Eleanor went shopping first thing this morning, and it took her, praise the Lord, less time than I thought. That’s why we’re early. We’ve eaten, but from the looks of the leftovers, or lack of them, I wish we’d waited.”
“Hate to tell you,” Carrie said, “but they sell lots of wonderful toys here in the craft area, as well as at the gift shop next to it. You can even watch toys being made. Maybe you’ll want to stock up for Christmas now.
“But, I’m glad you’re early, and I hope you’re in the mood for adventure. Quite a bit has happened here. A man has been murdered, a child has been kidnapped, and all four of us are in a position to be of real help.”
“My word,” Jason said, “you’re at it again. Maybe those books Eleanor reads aren’t so far-fetched. Whoever said retirement was supposed to be dull didn’t have a friend like Carrie McCrite. Think I’ll write a book myself, Carrie McCrite, Senior Detective, or...”
“Stop it, Jason,” Eleanor said. “You’re babbling, and I’m sure this is not a joking matter.” She turned to Carrie. “So, how are we going to help? We’re listening. Both of us are listening.”
So Carrie began her story again, a shortened version this time. She finished by telling them about the need to hide Chase and Tracy.
“But our plan for that won’t work without you,
as you’ll soon see.”
“Of course we’ll help,” Eleanor said, sounding eager. “
This is awful, those poor children, and their little girl. So, what’s the plan?”
“The room reserved for Henry is right next to yours in a duplex cabin, with locking doors between. All the rooms have two beds. So, I thought we could put the Masons in Henry’s room, calling them Mr. and Mrs. Henry King. That way you two can get to know them, talk with them, bring in food, and so on. Henry will share my room.”
Jason smirked and opened his mouth to say something, but Eleanor put her hand on his arm and said, “Splendid. So how do we get them here?”
Carrie gave a bare outline of her plan, and after Eleanor and Jason had agreed to their part, said, “Let’s meet in my room after you check in. I’ll call Brigid Mason and make arrangements with her. Go ahead and check in under your own name, but sign up for Mr. and Mrs. Henry King too. You might tell the people at the desk they’re your newly wed daughter and son-in-law who will be joining you here this evening. Get their key too. We’ll have to be sure the housekeeping staff doesn’t go in the room while Chase and Tracy are there, and I thought saying they’re newlyweds would make that seem less unusual. We can straighten the charges out later. I’m sure the Masons will pay their part. Henry will check in as Herman Culpeper.”
“Not McCrite?” said Jason, winking towards Henry.
“No, there’s a family here named Culpeper that may be involved with the kidnapping. The woman I saw in the woods is one of them. Since my maiden name is Culpeper I can assume a family relationship, say I’m Carrie Culpeper McCrite, a widow, and this is my brother, Herman. The two of us will call on the Mountain View Culpepers this afternoon while you pick up Chase and Tracy and see what we can find out.
“So, shall we get started? Come to my room, number 149, as soon as you’ve checked in and unloaded your things. Turn right at the shed with pop machines in it. And... thanks, both of you. You can still back out if you want. Some parts of this might be unpleasant, or even a little dangerous. You could miss some of your classes too.”
Music to Die For Page 10
