A Fair to Die For

by Radine Trees Nehring

  “Hey, I have an idea,” Edie said. “The Marshalls have picnic tables out back. Let’s go there. We won’t have competition for seating since people here have to keep watch across the street.”

  Carrie shook her head. “I don’t know if . . . ”

  “We can check every so often to see what’s going on in front. I’ll tell Milton and Henry where we’re going. Maybe they’ll want to come too.”

  Both men were involved in what looked like a heavy conversation with Sheriff Cook, so Edie interrupted only long enough to say, “We’re going to sit at a picnic table out back.” She got a brief nod from Milton, and Carrie followed her through the central hall and out the back door.

  “See, it’s nice out here. Quiet, and we have the whole place to ourselves.”

  Carrie said, “Uh-huh,” put down her plate and can of Dr.Pepper, and, after she was settled on a bench, asked a question she’d been puzzling over. “Why did you stay away from the kitchen table at Shirley’s after the deputy came to look at the animals with powder in them? Shirley and I both wondered. It was kind of obvious to us, though none of the guys seemed to notice.”

  “That’s easy. I didn’t want to be part of the discussion because of my involvement with the DEA. Better to stay out of it than get into an awkward conversation.”

  “Ah, I understand. Okay if I tell Shirley?

  “Of course.”

  “Then I have another, bigger question. What are your plans after today? Will your work here be finished, and can you go back home? I’m sure your mother would like that.”

  “Yes, I plan to go home before long. Milton has said he wants to come back with me, meet Mom—you know, that stuff. My leaving will have something to do with his schedule, and how long it takes to clear things up here.”

  “Maybe he can give your mother some interesting information about your father that isn’t too harsh?”

  “I think that’s his plan.” Edie bit off one end of her hot dog, chewed, and looked at Carrie with an expression that said she was waiting for the next question.

  “And then what?”

  “Carrie, you are so transparent. Yes, Milton and I have become good friends. Yes, it may develop into something more.”

  “I’m glad. You two seem attracted to each other, and you certainly have a lot of interests in common.”

  “That’s true, though living so far apart is a problem. I can’t move Mom from the only home she’s known for over fifty years, and Milton loves this area and his craft work here. We’ll see. I admit it would sure be nice to have someone, but I’m leery of being swayed by observations of your closeness to Henry. My previous attempt at marriage makes me extra cautious. You and Henry have the ideal marriage. How many can expect that?”

  “We are blessed, but so are many others. And you know, Edie, I think maturity helps. We’re softened in our wants and expectations by this time in our lives. Not so demanding, maybe? They say we become more rigid as the years pass, but I don’t believe that’s necessarily true. In fact, it can be just the opposite.”

  “Perhaps your faith in God has something to do with it.”

  “I’m sure it does.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Edie said, “I don’t want you to worry about me becoming a permanent house guest. If Milton needs to be here for a while I plan to get a furnished apartment. If it’s only going to be a week or two, I’ll move to a motel. I’ve imposed on you long enough.”

  “Oh Edie, of course you can stay with us.”

  “Hush. You and Henry are used to quiet and privacy. Goodness knows you’ve had enough company and riotous activity since I came. So, don’t give me arguments. Remember how I said when I came that I didn’t like pious protests? I don’t want to hear one now.”

  She reached over to take Carrie’s hand. “It isn’t that I don’t enjoy being with you two. But, were I you, I’d long for peace and quiet with my husband after all this turmoil. If I find my own place, all of us will have that.”

  Carrie squeezed Edie’s hand and, after a moment, said, “It is nice out here, with the forest on either side of us, and the view out back going past Jo’s gardens to pastures in the distance. Her cutting garden still has mums, and aren’t those zinnias? I always thought of them as hot weather flowers.”

  “Yes, I’ve been looking at the garden too. I have a small garden at our home in DC, but it was mostly gone by the time I left. The only edible thing I grow is tomatoes. The rest is planted in flowers.”

  “Henry is the gardener in our family,” Carrie said, loving the term our family.

  Once more they were silent—until the voice of a woman coming from the stand of trees behind them caused two startled exclamations.

  “Ah, I was right to check out the party area before I went to the office, and look what I found. The jackpot. Oh, I admit you two were hard to identify at first. Those are excellent disguises, but am I not addressing Edith Embler and, oh my goodness, isn’t it Carrie McCrite—who, it seems, has been resurrected from the dead?

  “No, don’t turn around. I’m holding a gun with a silencer. I’ll prove it to you the instant either of you starts to get up or turn around. The party goers out front are making so much noise they wouldn’t hear a thing if I shot you both right now.”

  She stayed in the trees, but her words had brought them both to rigid attention. “Now, Ms. Embler,” she said, “I want you to tell me where I’ll find the copy of those papers your father prepared before he died. I wondered if Milton Sales had them, but no luck there. Arnie and Sid failed at the McCrite house on Blackberry Road, and I couldn’t chase them out of that house with fire. John missed making a promising connection with you when you were at the fair, which was just one of John’s many mess-ups, though trying to pin those hollow toys on Milton Sales and giving them to McCrite was his biggest mistake.

  “Now it looks like Sid failed to remove a witness as well. No wonder he disappeared last Monday.

  Sid, Carrie thought. And he’s gone.

  The woman continued, “So, Ms. Embler, I’m not going to fail this time. You might as well tell me about those papers now. Where are they? I can’t assume you carry them with you, but I won’t let you out of my sight until I have them in my hands. We can leave here after I deal with the McCrite problem.”

  Edie’s voice began with a quiver, but got stronger and stronger as she said, “If I’d ever had papers related to my father’s death, I would be very glad to turn them over to you, but I never heard about any such papers until I came here. I assure you I have never seen them and know nothing about what they said. “Liz—it is Liz, isn’t it?—why do you want them after all these years? Why do you think they still exist?”

  The voice, sounding closer now, said, “Why would you come here if they didn’t?”

  Edie’s answer was an explosive, “What? Is that it? Well, you are mistaken. I came here to visit my cousin Carrie, and to see if I could find out what happened to my father all those years ago. I wanted my mother to know, at last, why he disappeared and, if possible, be able to take her to visit his grave. I had been told that a man in this area who worked at craft fairs knew about my dad’s last hours and could help me gain closure for my mother.”

  Carrie spoke up quickly, before Edie could say more or mention Milton Sales’s name, “That’s right. Edie wanted to find a man named John Harley because her source said he knew about the death of her father. She heard he’d be at the fair.”

  The laugh was humorless. “Well now, I do hate to tell you this, but John Harley had no connection at all to Art Embler and didn’t know anything about his business dealings. It was my parents who were connected to him.”

  Carrie saw Edie start to turn, and quickly put a hand on her knee. Without moving any farther, Edie said, “At least tell me why the papers matter so much to you.”

  The silence went on for so long that Carrie hoped the woman had left, but then she said, “You really don’t know, do you?” She laughed again. “Gee,
I hate to kill any imaginary dream you may have about your daddy, but he was a bigger crook than most. Worked both sides of the road, betraying men left and right. Had ties to distribution at this fair all those years ago. He also had two wives.”

  Edie’s whole body jerked and, once more, she started to turn toward Liz Harley, but Carrie quickly put an arm around her as both comfort and restraint.

  “I don’t believe that.”

  Liz Harley laughed again. “Oh, too bad. Believe what you want, but he had a wife in McAllen. That woman was my grandmother. In Texas, their name was Emerson, and your father had a son born in Texas, my father.”

  Liz stopped talking and, under Carrie’s protecting arm, Edie began shaking. “I . . . I don’t . . . ” she began, then was silent.

  Carrie was doing some quick calculating. “So, you and Edie are related? You are Edie’s niece? Can you prove that?”

  “You want birth certificates? I could provide them if I wanted to, but why? Maybe my dear Aunt Edith would rather not see concrete proof.”

  Carrie said, “And you want those papers because they, somehow, prove who you are? I’m sure you’re aware any supposed second marriage would be bigamy.”

  “I need the papers because they prove my grandfather and my father were working two sides of the road. Grandpa Emerson laid out the names of double-dealers on paper, documenting many of their activities. He wrote mostly about the men he worked for, but my father was just beginning his career then, and there are a few details about his business associates as well. Grandpa made a record of as much of it as he could, thinking it would serve as insurance for him and Dad. Then he leaked information about the documents, letting it be known the names of many dealers were included, along with proof of their activities. He also let it be known the papers were secure unless or until something happened to him or his son.

  “Seems our family likes living dangerously. Grandpa was killed in spite of the papers, and my father died in a gun battle ten years ago. Who knows if the papers could have saved them, but they never came to light.

  “Now I want those papers before they fall into the wrong hands. I want to protect my mother and myself from reprisal. If the wrong people read them now, I don’t doubt they’ll kill both of us.”

  “How do you know what they said?” Carrie asked. Edie was still shaking and seemed incapable of speech. Carrie began rubbing a hand up and down her cousin’s back.

  “Because I saw the originals. My father had them after Grandpa died, and said he would keep them safe. He said Grandpa had sent copies to his Embler wife. I don’t know what happened to them after that.

  “See, Aunt Edith, your experience has not been so different from mine. I’m certain you understand now why I must find and destroy Grandpa Emerson’s papers. They could harm you as much as me, and if you don’t have them, who does?”

  Edie still said nothing. After a quick shudder when Liz said “Aunt Edith,” her face and body went stone still—unmoving and hard. For at least a mini-second, watching her cousin, Carrie wished she had the means to permanently silence Liz Harley.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  WHO CAN SAVE CARRIE THIS TIME?

  Liz stopped talking, but Carrie could occasionally hear a rustle in the leaves at the edge of the forest, so, other than continuing to rub Edie’s back, she didn’t move. There was still that gun.

  Finally, deciding to take a soft path, she said, “It seems to me, if copies of the original papers you describe ever existed, they’re long gone, and you’re free from reprisals.

  “When I told Edie about the men searching for papers in the room where she’s staying, she said her dad did have a safe deposit box, and she and her mother opened it after his death. It held family papers, passports, her birth certificate, but nothing at all like you describe. There were no papers unrelated to personal family matters.”

  Carrie waited for a response from Liz, but none came, so she continued.

  “Edie and her mother live together. They’ve been in the family home for something like fifty years, and have never seen papers related to Mr. Embler’s business. If anyone who might harm you had knowledge of dangerous papers, wouldn’t they have taken advantage of that long before now?

  “You can leave here safely. Neither Edie nor I will bother you. I haven’t seen you, therefore I can’t identify you, and neither can Edie. We’re no threat to you.”

  The silence went on so long, with only soft rustling in the leaves, that Carrie decided Liz Harley had pondered her options and decided to walk away. She was about to stand up and turn toward where Liz had been when two gunshots and shouting from across the road stopped her.

  NO! Not yet, not now. She’s leaving us.

  Liz Harley’s sudden oath was too close by for comfort and, in an instant, she had grabbed Carrie’s arm and pushed the gun barrel against her cheek. She began moving back into the stand of trees, pulling Carrie with her. “I don’t know what’s going on,” she said, “but I know you’re coming with me. Aunt Edith, stay where you are, or this friend of yours will die in an instant and you’ll be the one leaving here with me. Don’t think I won’t kill her. I’ve learned killing people is surprisingly easy.”

  “Wait!” Edie said. “Take me instead. If you do, I’ll tell you where to find the papers.”

  Liz’s backward motion stopped. Her left arm snaked all the way around Carrie, holding the two of them together so tightly that Carrie’s every breath struggled against the confining arm and her words came out in gasps. “No, Edie. No!”

  “Carrie, I really do think I know where they could be, if they exist. But she will have no chance to find out if she takes you. She has to take me instead.”

  Edie stepped over the bench and came toward them as she said, “Liz, don’t give up this last chance to find what you’re looking for.”

  Carrie sagged against the front of Liz Harley’s body, hoping to throw her off balance.

  It didn’t work, the woman didn’t budge an inch, but at least her movement toward the trees had stopped.

  Jo Marshall was right. Liz Harley has a well-padded chest.

  Stupid, useless thought. There has to be something productive you can do or say, Carrie. THINK!

  It was quiet everywhere. No more sounds from out front or across the road. No party noises. No nothing.

  What’s going on? Shouldn’t we hear people shouting, or at least talking? A car door slamming? Where is Henry? Where is everyone—Shirley and Roger, Milton? Are they all involved in whatever is taking place out front? Why hasn’t someone come looking for us? There were two shots. What, WHAT is going on?

  Liz hadn’t moved.

  She must be thinking over Edie’s offer. But Edie convinced us all there are no papers. Isn’t that the truth? If it is true, Edie’s doing this for me. Oh, please.

  Carrie began, “Edie . . . ” then couldn’t think what else to say.

  Liz’s indecision continued to convey itself through her inaction. She still held Carrie tightly, and now they both seemed frozen in time and space.

  It lasted long enough. There was another rustle in the forest floor leaves. The gun moved away from Carrie’s face when a voice behind them said, “Put the gun down, Lizzie. The party’s over”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  STRANGER IN THE WOODS

  “Don’t—call—me—Lizzie!”

  The gun was pushed against Carrie’s head again, and she fought an urge to scream, wail, cry over this repeated danger. How long can I manage to endure, to stand strong?

  “Why not, Lizzie? It’s Lindie and Lizzie. Momma liked that.”

  “I don’t care if she . . . what are you doing here?”

  “Checking up on you, baby sister. Seems you’ve backed yourself into a corner.”

  That voice. Pitched lower, tougher sounding, but . . .

  Liz, still facing away from the newcomer, said, “I have not! You’re the one in trouble. House arrest, or something like that? Seems like always clever Lindie got a
way though, which is handy for both of us.”

  As Liz continued talking, Carrie thought, She knows who this woman is, and I think I know. Sisters? She felt a wisp of hope.

  “Could you see what’s going on at my distribution center? Did you hear the shots?”

  Liz was now breathing so heavily that Carrie’s body moved forward and back with each gasp.

  “The party out front was a cover for drug busters. They watched until they knew your people were inside the buildings, surrounded the place, and that was it. Arnie had just come back, and was in the mood to resist. He shot a deputy, then of course someone shot Arnie. They’ve called ambulances.”

  Carrie had never heard such a string of foul language in her life. It finally stopped, and Liz said, “Dead?”

  “Neither of them, at this point.”

  Silence. More heavy breathing, then Liz turned partly toward the woman in the woods. Carrie didn’t feel ready to face the woman, and kept her head turned away. Edie, who had started walking toward them when the newcomer appeared, was now taking slow steps back. Liz didn’t seem to notice, and the stranger didn’t comment.

  “We just got a shipment,” Liz said.

  “Uh-huh, so no problem with them finding evidence. They’re all inside your place now, probably having a good ol’ time. I didn’t dare try to see in, but of course they’ve already found your drugs. I don’t know what they’ll end up doing with the cases of hollow dolls and toys, or the special books on CD meant to go to your truck stop customers. Maybe the sheriff will have a big garage sale. The money ends up in law enforcement accounts, of course.” The voice laughed, low, melodious.

  Liz gasped, “You—shut—up.” After taking a couple of moments to control her breathing, she spoke again. “How did they know to look over there?”

  “It may have something to do with the folks who own this place.”

  “But how did they know?” It was almost a whine.

  “You can ask the sheriff later. Hmm, what else did you have for them to find? What about John’s birdhouses? Are they still there, or are they gone, now that John is gone?”