Music to Die For

by Radine Trees Nehring

  After they’d eaten, Chase took the lead in planning for the evening’s watch on the birdhouse. First he described the area and, with Carrie’s help, drew a small map showing the location of possible hiding places.

  “Since I’m agile, I should be closest,” he said, pointing at the map, “so I’ll sit in this corner of the gift shop porch.”

  Carrie and Henry exchanged glances at hearing Chase’s cool assumption that none of them was capable of quick action. Carrie decided now was not the time to protest stereotypes about the super adult set, and Henry said, “We’re not going to approach the messenger, Chase. This is the time to observe. We don’t want anyone to know we’re watching.”

  Carrie was having difficulty behaving as solemnly as the situation supposedly warranted. She was thinking that it really didn’t matter about the kidnapper’s note, since she and Henry would return Dulcey to her family not long after the note was left. Everyone here but Chase knew that.

  Henry was still talking. “The important thing is to be able to identify the kidnapper and, if neither Carrie nor Chase knows who it is, be able to describe the person accurately later.”

  Carrie had already decided the messenger would be Zeph, since he was working in the area anyway and would only have to step down from his bus and make a quick trip to the bird house after the show began.

  “Okay,” said Chase in a monotone, “whatever. Your idea of Jason going in the auditorium to pretend he’s buying tickets is good, because he can come back out and sit down right here.” He indicated the location of the steps with a finger. “Like he’s waiting for the rest of his group. Folks do that, especially when they know the show might sell out, or maybe they don’t want to stand in line later.”

  He became more lively as he studied their map.

  “See, Jason, there are evergreen shrubs here...and here. You can sit on the steps behind one of those. You’ll have to figure out how to sit so you can see the bird box, or at least see anyone who walks toward it.”

  He turned to Carrie and Henry. “And you’re going to do...what?” he asked.

  Carrie pointed. “The group of trees here? Lots of cedars among them, very concealing. Couldn’t we pretend to be heading toward the campground and walk into those trees instead? It will be pretty dark by then, and I don’t think anyone could see us. We’ll just have to be careful and not make noises in the brush and leaves.”

  Chase nodded. “Okay.”

  Henry took over. “Jason can drive all of us to the handicapped parking at the top of the hill by the auditorium. Someone might recognize Carrie, but no one knows me. I’ll limp and take Carrie’s walking stick to use as a cane. If you stay in the dim light, Chase, I doubt you’ll be recognized, especially if you don’t get too close to anyone there. You can get out of the car with us and pretend to be helping me.

  “Do any of you know if we can leave the car close by, since it doesn’t have a handicapped permit? Is every space at the top of the hill reserved for that?”

  Jason said, “I have the handicapped card from when I had my knee surgery last year. I’ll clip it on. I don’t often use it now, but it’s valid.”

  “Okay,” Henry said. “If they do ask you to move, you can drive down to the public lot and ride a bus back up. But it will be best if we can have the car nearby.

  “After the three of us are out of the car, Chase, you might act like you’re interested in what’s in the craft shop windows. Go up on the porch. Act like you’re trying to see in the windows if there’s light there. Carrie and I will hang around the edge of the driveway by the woods. Since I’m supposed to have a game leg, I shouldn’t move too much. Eventually we’ll slip into those trees.”

  He checked his watch. “Sunset is about 6:30... it’s already getting dark, and I don’t think we’ll have any problems with the hiding part. But,” he cautioned, “except for Jason, don’t let bus drivers see you. They’re at work every evening and would be used to normal activity, so they’d be most likely to notice anything that looks out of the norm. They’d know how people going to the shows behave.”

  He looked around the circle of solemn faces. “All of us will watch and remember as much as we can about the person who comes to the bird house. Since we’ll be situated on three sides, we can probably do a good job.

  “The important thing tonight is to find out who has Dulcey without alarming them. Chase, do not try to stop the messenger—that would definitely be alarming. Notice as much as you can, but stay in hiding. Leave the person alone.”

  Chase said nothing, but finally he nodded, and Henry went on. “Is there a light near the bird house? Either of you remember?”

  Carrie said. “Yes, a post light at the edge of the drive. Anyone going to the bird house will have to pass it.”

  “Good. That’ll help. Now, while you’re waiting, study people and plan ways to judge physical characteristics. Compare heights in relation to landmarks—buildings and landscaping. Notice at what point a head is level with the third limb up on a tree, for example. Think about weight, notice hair color, and if hair is long or short. Also skin color, and by that I mean more than race... I mean what shade of light or dark. Practice detecting clothing colors. As it gets darker, see how browns, blues, and blacks vary in artificial light. Don’t forget footwear and anything at all unusual that catches your eye. Think about that as you wait—use the time productively to intensify your ability to notice. Not only will it help with identification later, but it’ll also help keep you from getting bored, and believe me, surveillance can be boring, even sleep-inducing. We’ve all got to stay alert.

  “Jason, in case the person comes in a car, you might be able to get to your car—if you can keep it at the top—and follow when they leave. Maybe you can learn something about where they’re going. But keep your doors locked, don’t get too close, and don’t get out of your car, no matter what. Better to lose them than put yourself in danger.

  “Okay, that’s it—our purpose now is only to notice as much as we can from our hiding places. It’s my guess one or more of us will know the messenger. If not, being able to describe that person is our goal. We could well be asked to testify about it in court later.”

  Carrie wondered if the fact she and Henry were both sure the messenger would be Zephaniah and that they were going to have Dulcey back safely in—she looked at her watch—about three hours was coloring his instructions. If that weren’t the case, would he have contacted the sheriff? She was glad that Chase hadn’t questioned any of the plans. He might be wondering why she and Henry were taking a relatively passive role, but, if he was, he didn’t comment. She just hoped the person would come to the blue bird house before the two of them had to leave for Nahum’s.

  “Now,” Henry was saying, “after the messenger leaves, all of us will stay where we are for at least ten minutes. Then, Chase, you can slip off the edge of the porch and get the note. When you have it, start down the stairs toward the parking lot. Jason, pick up Chase at the foot of the stairs. If Jason has left in the car to follow someone, then I guess you’ll have to walk back here, Chase, but be careful. We don’t want you kidnapped too. Stay on the lighted road where there will be cars and people.

  “Carrie and I won’t be riding back in the car. We’ll continue to stay out of sight. I’m taking a flashlight, and we’ll walk to the lodge on the path below the auditorium. We may be late, so don’t worry about us.

  “As soon as you get back here, write down everything you can remember about the messenger. Then sleep if you can. There’s nothing more we can do tonight. We’ll make further plans tomorrow morning, depending on what the ransom note says. Okay, guess that’s all. Any questions or concerns?”

  No one said anything, so Henry went on, “Everyone wear dark jackets or sweaters.” He looked at Carrie. “Dark hats covering grey hair. Okay, all of you get what you need, and we’ll meet at the car in about ten minutes.” He was almost out the door when he stopped and turned back. “Don’t forget a potty stop. We’
ll be away from conveniences for a while.”

  “Hope Tracy stays asleep,” Carrie whispered to Eleanor before she left to follow Henry.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” Eleanor said, “and besides, someone has to stay at home and pray, though I know quite well you can pray fast and on your feet, Carrie McCrite. God goes with you, but be careful anyway.”

  The smile they exchanged made more talk unnecessary, and Carrie hurried out to catch up with Henry.

  Back in the room, she put on her indigo denim jacket and hat. Henry had left her walking stick against the wall by his suitcase, and when she went to pick it up, he had the suitcase open and was lifting folded clothing, exposing his .38 and a flashlight. He picked up the flashlight, but left the gun, though he glanced at Carrie as his hand passed over it. Seeing her questioning look, he shook his head and said, “No, not around the child,” and she nodded. Taking the gun acknowledged too much danger. Why should they need it?

  Carrie wondered if Jason and Eleanor regretted not being able to attend the show in the auditorium tonight. Well, there was always tomorrow night, and for now, neither of them acted as if they minded the turn of events. Both, in fact, seemed enlivened by their involvement in the Masons’ problems.

  When they arrived at the auditorium, only a few people were around, talking in small groups or strolling on the sidewalks, enjoying the unusually warm evening. The craft shop had closed for the day, and everything there was dark.

  Carrie and Chase helped Henry out of the car, and she took his arm as he limped beside her to the edge of the grove of trees across from the auditorium. They stopped to look around as if enjoying the evening along with everyone else. Carrie noticed that Chase was already out of sight. He’d gone to the darkened craft shop porch right away.

  She and Henry stood together on the shadowy pavement while Jason parked the car, then they watched him head inside the auditorium. In a few moments he came back out and sat on the steps next to a large juniper.

  Now the buses were making repeated trips from the parking lot, emptying out crowds of people who flocked toward the auditorium, intent only on finding a good seat for the coming entertainment. Carrie watched for Zephaniah, but light glare on the bus drivers’ windows made identifying any individual impossible.

  Eventually Henry slid out of sight into the forest, and in a few minutes Carrie joined him. He was standing close to the edge of the paved area with his back against a large oak tree trunk, but darkness and the cedar trees made it difficult for even Carrie to pick him out among the shadows. She stood beside him for a time, watching the people, her vision filtered by cedar branches.

  She began noticing things as Henry had suggested. That man there—dark hair, needs a hair cut, tight jeans and shirt, tall, top of head at third branch on the cedar tree when he stands on the first auditorium step. In the artificial light his shirt looks yellow, but it’s probably white.

  The buses continued their runs, over and over. People milled about. She wondered where the term milled had come from. Time crawled. No one approached the birdhouse. Henry was right: surveillance could be boring.

  She shifted, moving her weight back and forth between increasingly stressed feet, being careful not to rustle the leaves. Sitting was out of the question. The best thing to do was lean on something. For Henry, that meant leaning on a large tree. Other nearby trees were smaller or had low branches in the way, and she’d have to move several feet to reach the next clear trunk. No, she’d rather stay here, close to Henry, where it was either stand erect or...

  She shifted her feet again. Henry reached out and pulled her in front of him. She leaned.

  There was no protest from Henry, and as time passed, she became more and more conscious of each contour of his body, of the rise and fall of his chest, and even, she imagined, the thump of his heart. He was very nice to lean on. Their bodies fit together... quite... well.

  The moon was lifting higher now, but the forest remained in shadow. Carrie could barely see Jason on the steps across from them.

  Henry shifted, and his left arm came around her, settling at her waist. She wanted to tilt her head against his chest but couldn’t watch the bird house if she did, so she kept her neck straight, her eyes alternately sweeping the area and looking toward the blue box.

  Though she was trying to concentrate only on their mission and think about all she had heard and seen during the past twenty-four hours, she found she could not shut out intense awareness of Henry’s warm body. He was holding her so closely that she was sure she must be moving with each breath he took. After several minutes his head ducked, and his cheek rested briefly against the top of her denim cap.

  They stood together in their hiding place—watching, waiting, breathing—shifting position from time to time.

  She was alert, tingling with excitement, and she didn’t need to wonder if Henry was as aware of the feel of her body as she was of his. She did wonder, though, if she should be shocked by the way her body was reacting to the closeness of this man, or, for that matter, by how his body was reacting to hers. It was certainly nothing like any physical connection she had known with Amos McCrite. The two of them had made a son, of course, but... there had been no romance at all in Amos McCrite.

  In spite of her concern for Dulcey and the Masons, a bubbling joy was taking hold of her. This was what being with a man could mean. How many years had it been? And now, and now... She sucked air involuntarily as Henry’s other arm circled around her, resting higher than the one at her waist, his fingers little wands of fire just under her breast.

  She thought again of how she looked when she stood, naked, in front of a mirror. Then she shoved that aside. Henry had seen her in her bra just hours ago, though she hadn’t actually caught him looking, not really. Surely he knew what was under her clothing. In fact, now his strong hand was under her sweatshirt. He was surprisingly gentle, even hesitant, as he touched her.

  All the tourists had gone into the auditorium, and the only sound Carrie could hear was the inner noise of two thumping hearts. Her thoughts were drifting into dreams of touching, and closeness to Henry, and...

  The creak of the fence gate next to the auditorium wall was a harsh surprise. Both she and Henry tensed, body awareness faded, and their urgent mission demanded full attention once more.

  Someone was going to the blue birdhouse. Long skirt. Female. Her back was toward them, and it didn’t look familiar, but when she turned around toward the post light....

  The bang of heels on wood echoed as Chase vaulted over the porch railing and met the shadow by the box. Henry swore as both he and Carrie ran toward Chase. By the time they reached him he had the arms of a girl pinned against the fence, and she was spitting out the most unique assortment of angry words Carrie had ever heard, terms in which skunk and mule figured largely, and the modifiers were full of color quite out of character for a mere child in pigtails. Carrie didn’t know her name but recognized her as one of those who had been listening to Brigid Mason’s story the night before.

  After a second, Carrie decided they were lucky the girl wasn’t screaming, considering the force Chase was applying to hold her. Since Henry looked like he was about to hit Chase, she reached out quickly, pulled Chase’s arms away from the girl, glanced at the white envelope he was holding in his hand, and turned back toward his fire-breathing captive.

  “I’m sorry this man frightened you,” she said, “but what on earth are you doing out here? Looks like you’re supposed to be getting ready for the show inside, so why are you here delivering messages?”

  The girl looked Carrie over, taking in her grey curls, wrinkles, and ample curves. Then she glanced up at Henry and evidently decided he was no threat to her either. She sniffed toward Chase and stuck her nose in the air. “Sure, ’n’ see if I ever do Ben favors again, no matter how ro-man-tic. See, he wanted me to deliver his love note.”

  “Love note?” Henry and Carrie said together. Then Carrie went on, more calmly, “Ben told you
to put his love note in the bird house?”

  “Well, it’s not his, o’course,” the girl said, with all the wisdom of a dozen years or so. “He’s an old man, so couldn’t be his, now could it! Said someone had asked him to put it in the box, but there was trouble with a stage set that needed fixin’ quick, and he didn’t have time to bring it out. Asked me to. What’s the harm in that? And what’s this...” she indicated Chase, “son of a jackass doin’ grabbin’ me?”

  Henry had moved in front of Chase and backed up, pushing the younger man away from the girl and using his body to shield him from her view. Carrie ignored both of them and continued with her questions.

  “Did Ben say who the note came from?”

  “’Course not, it’s a secret. I think it’s from one of the boys in the show to his special girl. Mebbe his folks don’t ap-prove of the girl. They’s lotsa that goin’ ’round. So, it’s ro-man-tic, and I said I’d do it.” She giggled, her good nature restored. “Lotsa cute boys in the show tonight.”

  She looked closely into Carrie’s face again and seemed to read something there. Her own face became thoughtful, and she ducked her chin and said, more softly, “Wouldn’t you’uv done the same? Helped?”

  “Yes,” Carrie said, “I would have, and I don’t blame you a bit, but I’m afraid Ben was fooling you. I’ll tell you a secret. The note is for me. I’m Ben’s, uh, friend, and I was expecting to meet him here. This is my brother and my nephew. They wanted to meet Ben, that’s all, since we’re talking about—now don’t you tell—getting married. Sorry my nephew was rough.” She waved an arm in Chase’s direction. “He sometimes acts before he thinks.

  “Now, I’d like to ask you to do a favor for me, since you know my secret. Just tell Ben you put his note in the box, nothing more. I’ll send an answer, but I want to surprise him. Don’t tell him you saw me. I want my answer to be romantic too, you see? Promise?” Carrie reached her right hand up, made a solemn “X” sign over her heart.