“They’ll have them again next year,” said Jason. “Now, let’s get busy and see if we can help save that little girl.”
As she and Henry came down the path toward her motel room, Carrie could see a white card stuck in the door. She pulled it loose and read the name, “Ryerson T. Wylie, Sheriff.” In red ink, a note on the back instructed her to call Sheriff Wylie’s office immediately.
She handed the card to Henry and said, “I can’t talk to the man now. I’d have to lie, and I’m not sure I should do that—lying to a sheriff. It could get me in trouble, couldn’t it? And what if he sees you, asks your name, wants to look at your driver’s license or something? What am I going to do?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Henry said. “You don’t need to call right away. He’s got enough to keep him busy for the present. I am wondering if he understood the significance of that wound and what he’s discovered since then. Are you sure he doesn’t know the Mason child has been kidnapped?”
“If he does, he’s being quiet about it, which is good. But I don’t see how he could possibly know unless Bobby Lee rushed to tell him after our talk this morning. I don’t think Bobby Lee knew it until I told him. I think he was honestly shocked, but Bobby Lee Logan is very good at lying, especially to outsiders like me. Oh, Henry, I’m confused. I don’t really know who is telling the truth about anything, including Chase, Tracy, and Aunt Brigid.”
“So we’ll act on the facts we can confirm,” he said. “First thing to do is call the Masons and work out your plans with Brigid before Eleanor and Jason get here. While you’re doing that, I’ll check in and bring my things from the car.
“Carrie, I do have my gun. After you called last night, I thought...” He didn’t finish. Instead he turned and headed down the path toward the parking lot.
She stood still, looking at Henry’s back as he walked away. He had only carried a handgun once since leaving police work, and that had been to protect her and his daughter, Susan. Refusal to carry a gun was one reason Henry had left the Kansas City Police Department. It began with one more teenager high on drugs. The boy had a gun and was robbing a convenience store near Henry’s home. Henry, just off duty, was coming in the store to pay for gas.
He heard shots and saw the cashier, a man he knew well, fall behind the counter. Yelling obscenities, the teenager had turned his gun toward Henry, but Henry shot first.
“The kid died right there, and I still can’t remember whether or not I shot to kill,” he had told Carrie.
A week after that, Henry went to see the dead boy’s mother. He wouldn’t talk about what had happened during that visit, but Carrie knew he stopped carrying his gun then. Three months after the visit, he resigned from the police department.
Six months later his wife, Irena, the only child of a wealthy Kansas City family, left him. Being the wife of a police detective had earned sympathy and attention from her family and friends throughout their marriage. Henry said that when he quit police work, Irena lost her only reason for staying married to him.
Just last November he had confided to Carrie, “She could no longer say, ‘my husband, Police Major Henry King,’ at social events. She has plenty of her own money. I guess being married to an ex-police officer who was selling real estate didn’t interest her at all.”
Carrie sighed, turned away from the door, and went to the telephone. She was sorry for Henry, but glad Irena had left him after twenty-five years of an unhappy and childless marriage. And she was very glad that Henry’s search for the daughter he’d never seen, born after a brief encounter with a woman he’d met at adult night school, had brought him to the Ozarks.
Brigid Mason’s line was busy, but when Carrie dialed a second time, the phone rang. A strange voice answered. “Ah-low?”
“May I speak to Brigid Mason, please?”
“Is no spik angless. Is bad nuumbeer.”
“Tell her Carrie Culpeper. Please.”
“Ah.”
There was a short silence, then Brigid’s voice said, “Carrie? Whew! We’re tryin’ to fool callers. This gets more worrisome by the minit.”
“What’s happened?”
“Reporters. Now another TV station has made it here. Herb ’n’ the rest are keepin’ them outside the fence so far, but they make such a crowd it’s gettin’ harder all the time. We got cameras poked at us from all over.
“Besides that, the sheriff called. He was curious if Dulcey felt better. I’m afeerd he has an idea she’s been taken, else why would he ask if she was still here? God forgive me, I keep sayin’ she is. After all, he kin hardly want to question her, ’n’ Chase won’t let me tell she’s kidnapped.”
“Brigid, have you talked with Chase and Tracy about hiding at the Folk Center?”
“Yup, ’n’ now that they see they can’t get out to that bird box nor anywheres else, they’ll come with you gladly. I don’t know how you’re gonna fix it up, but we’re sure game to try. I did change their looks, much as I could. Got their stuff packed, too. We’re ready.”
“Good. Now, here’s what we’re going to do...”
Chapter XII
Carrie was finishing her conversation with Brigid as Henry came into the room. He carried the two
L. L. Bean travel bags his daughter Susan and her husband had given him for Christmas, and, arms loaded, he stopped just inside the door, staring at the nearest bed.
“Oops,” she said, noticing what he was looking at. “I’ve been using the extra bed to organize brochures by county and location within each county. That’s the way we display them at the information center. The bed was such a nice flat area, and I...didn’t know you’d be sleeping in it. It’ll only take me a minute to move them.”
She grabbed a brochure box and started to sweep a stack into it.
“Wait! If they’re organized, let’s keep them that way. Do you have any rubber bands?”
She reached in her briefcase and held up a sandwich bag with rubber bands in it.
“Good. Just a minute.”
He went into the bathroom and came back with the extra roll of toilet paper. “Here, I’ll lay a piece of this between each different type of brochure, then you can use the rubber bands to keep them together by county. That way they’ll be easy to separate and put in your racks when you get home—though you may have to do some explaining about your little white dividers!”
Both of them were laughing as he began tearing off squares, and they went to work. Carrie was filling the last brochure box when someone’s knuckles banged against the door.
She jerked her head up in alarm. “I didn’t expect Eleanor and Jason this quickly. They usually travel with lots of stuff. It would take them some time to unload...so, could that be the sheriff?”
“Guess it could be,” Henry said, as he waved his arm toward the bathroom. “You might...” But she was already moving in that direction.
She pushed the bathroom door closed and reached in the tub enclosure to turn on the water. Surely the sheriff wouldn’t stand around and wait for her to take a very long shower.
In a minute the bathroom door opened and Henry’s face came into view around its edge. He hadn’t knocked. Good heavens!
“The Stacks are here,” was all he said.
Both Eleanor and Jason gave her a curious look when she came into the room fully clothed. She supposed they’d heard the shower running, but, instead of explaining, she asked, “Did everything go okay?”
“No problems,” Jason said. “I have keys to both rooms in the unit—143, A and B.
“Couldn’t be better,” she said. “It’s as secluded as any of the cabins. Chase and Tracy should be able to get in and out when they need to.”
She handed Jason a piece of paper. “Brigid gave me directions to her house. She said it would be easy to find with all the reporters hanging around.
“You’ll need to wear the most concealing clothing you have with you. Eleanor, that pantsuit’s fine. Jason, do you have plain slacks and a loose jack
et or windbreaker? The clothes you wear going into the house will be what Chase and Tracy wear coming out, so take a change of clothing, and make it as different in style from what you wear in as you can. I imagine you brought sun hats? Good. They’ll cover most of your hair or...whatever,” she amended as Jason ran a hand over the bare skin on top of his head. “Put your change of clothing in this black bag of Henry’s. It can be your medical bag. You’re going to play doctor.”
Jason started to laugh, and Eleanor poked him in the side. The laugh subsided, but he winked at Henry.
Carrie continued. “Brigid is letting her kinfolk know you’re coming, and they’ll block out a way through what she says is a gaggle of reporters and cameras. The relatives will tell the reporters you’re the Masons’ doctors from Branson and you’ve been asked to come and check on Dulcey and Tracy. People believe stars do odd things and can afford anything, so there should be no question that you’ve come all the way here to take care of your important patients for what are being reported to the press as minor problems—Dulcey’s cold and Tracy’s distress over the death of her cousin. They may suspect your presence here means the problems are bigger than stated but, for now, who cares? And since you have an Arkansas license plate on your car, the relatives will say you flew to a small airport near here and rented a car.
“Reporters are undoubtedly going to try and reach you for an interview, so getting in and out will be crucial times. The relatives will do the best they can to keep everyone back. Obviously you can’t talk to anyone. Family members will take care of answering questions. I can guess they’re leaning heavily on their hillbilly image to create quite a show for the media, so that helps as a distraction.
“Keep the car windows rolled up and the doors locked. Wear your sunglasses. I wish we could wait until dark for this, but we can’t, because the note telling what the kidnappers are demanding is supposed to be in the bird box after the show begins tonight, and Chase and Tracy will want to be here by then.
“Remember, at whatever distance, there will be cameras pointing at you. The hats and sunglasses should keep you from being identified—you don’t want your kids or others to recognize you on TV and wonder what’s going on.”
“Don’t want them to wonder why we’re playing doctor?” Jason said, making no attempt to conceal his smirk.
Carrie glared at him, then went on, enunciating each word carefully. “Pretending to be medical professionals. This is no joke. Chase and Tracy are very, very famous, as Henry can tell you, and that’s why they need to go into hiding until Dulcey is safely back with them.
“You’ll have to make up your own script to fit whatever happens when you get to the house. Drive the car as close to the front entry as you can. Brigid says reporters are all around the house, even in her nearest neighbor’s yard, so, since the front door has bushes around it, she thought that would be the best to use. The car itself can also help shield all of you.
“When you get inside, change clothes, then give Chase and Tracy what you had on, including sunglasses and hats. The clothing may have to be padded here and there—both of them are slender, though your heights are similar.
“You’ll need to kill some time there to make the visit plausible, but eventually Chase and Tracy will come back out in your clothes, carrying your bag with their own clothing in it, and get in the front of the car. Chase will have to be the one driving the car out. We can only hope this will fool reporters and anyone else who may be watching. The fact Dulcey won’t be with them will help.
“How you two get back in the car is up to you. Perhaps you can rush out as if you were part of the Mason clan asking for a lift somewhere. You’ll have to figure out what to do about that after you get there. If all their things won’t fit in this bag of Henry’s, pack them in sacks or whatever Brigid has.
“Follow your best instincts, but that’s the outline of the plot. Any suggestions? See any way to make it work better?”
Jason, serious now, said, “It would be natural for medical professionals to resist having their pictures splashed across the tabloids, so if the photographers are too aggressive, we could hold something up to shield our faces. Eleanor can use her purse, and I’ll have this bag. And, just in case, we can each carry a magazine or newspaper.”
“Good idea. As far as running interference, Brigid says there are at least a dozen relatives there right now, including several large men, who will help.
“Now, after the four of you are safely away, see if you can get Chase and Tracy to talk about anything at all, but especially the kidnapping and murder. Maybe something helpful that we haven’t learned so far will come out. I’m sure they aren’t telling the whole truth about any of this mess. There are also undercurrents of an even deeper problem between them. Maybe you can find out what it is, especially if you have a chance to talk with either or both of them alone. The problem could have something to do with the fact that Farel Teal was supposedly in love with Tracy, but I don’t know how much Chase knows about that. In any case, I’m sure they’re not being honest with each other, or anyone else. Something’s very wrong there.
“Eleanor, they might respond to cozy mothering, and Jason, you can use the diplomatic skills you practiced during labor negotiations at your plant up north. Maybe they’ll confide in you, especially since you’re obviously giving up a vacation to help them out.
“Neither of them has slept much since yesterday, so they may just want to nap after you get them back here. Assure them they can do nothing until time for one of them to go look in the bird box tonight.”
Henry spoke up. “I have a thought about that. Since it’s fairly certain the kidnappers won’t know either Jason or me, we could go to the auditorium early, as if we wanted to be sure and get tickets for the evening show. It will be a pleasant evening, so, after we pretend to buy tickets, we could hang around outside as if waiting for the rest of our group, but instead, we’d keep watch on the bird box.
“It will be easy for the kidnapper’s messenger to approach the drop-off box. Regular tourists wouldn’t pay much attention to anyone working in the area... maybe pretending to clean out a birdhouse to get it ready for spring. I’m sure the kidnappers are counting on that.
“I think Carrie should be there with us tonight if Eleanor doesn’t need her, because she might recognize the person who puts the note in the box. I doubt we can keep Chase or Tracy from going early too, and it’s even more likely they’d recognize the messenger. But because many people, including the messenger, might also recognize them, they’d need to be out of sight. How well do you know the area, Carrie? Any easy hiding places?”
“Yes...hmmm, bushes that I think are big enough. The craft shop porch. And there’s a wooded area on the opposite side of the parking lot.”
“Okay,” Henry said. “Guess we’re all ready for our afternoon’s work. We’ll meet back here before supper.”
Eleanor asked, “What, exactly, did you say you two are going to do while we’re getting Chase and Tracy?”
“Dress up and go visit relatives we’ve never met,” said Carrie.
As soon as Eleanor and Jason had left, Henry opened his big soft-sided bag and began laying out women’s clothing.
“Hope this is what you wanted. I have my overalls and flannel shirt. Our heavy boots are in the car.”
“Yes, this is fine,” she said, “so shall we get dressed and go calling?”
For a minute she stood still, staring at Henry’s back while he rummaged about in his suitcase.
“Uh, the bathroom is pretty small,” she said, beginning to feel flustered, “so let’s get everything ready and I’ll face this way on this side and you face toward the door.”
“Sure,” Henry said. “Are there any hangers left? I’d like to hang a couple of things.”
Oh goodness, Carrie thought, this is awful.
She wasn’t thinking about hangers, there were plenty of those. Hangers weren’t the problem at all.
She pointed at the clot
hes rack, waited until Henry’s back was turned again, then rushed to get out of her jeans and sweatshirt and into the clothes Henry had brought for her. She almost ripped her print cotton skirt as she yanked it on, covering bare flesh as quickly as she could.
She wished she’d planned to dress in the bathroom, crowded or not, but it was too late now. His half of the room was nearest the bathroom door.
She’d done this. It was her own fault. She’d acted without thinking. She’d never been one to stare at herself in the mirror, but she did know what the body she’d see there was like...rumply in spots, pudgy, too. If only...well, there had been that exercise class in town...maybe if she’d enrolled in that...
She was reaching for the long-sleeved blouse she usually wore for gardening when she sensed something behind her. Henry’s hand touched her bare arm. She jerked back in confusion, turned toward him, and gasped.
He was naked to the waist. There were two ugly
scars. And... rumply places.
She raised her eyes to his face.
“Oh, Cara, I’m so used to the scars I didn’t think. Sometimes police work gives you body decorations you hadn’t planned on. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No... no. I....” She stared at him; she couldn’t help it. Then she remembered that, except for a bra, she too was bare to the waist. She put her hand up and looked around for her blouse.
Henry picked it up off the floor and handed it to her.
“What I wanted to tell you, Ms. McCrite, is that I think this is something we might have had fantasies about when we were young. Can you imagine...?”
He hesitated, looking at her face with some kind of gentle appeal in his eyes. But his eyes weren’t sad. Not at all. They were twinkly.
She could feel it coming. The sides of her mouth wiggled, then a real smile began, and spread.
She said, “Yes. Yes, I can. Mother and Daddy should see me now. In a motel room. Half naked... with a man. And... we’re not, um, related.”
“The secret is safe with me,” he said, putting out a hand to touch her cheek—oh, so lightly.
Music to Die For Page 11
