Utah: A Lucy Ripken Mystery (The Lucy Ripken Mysteries Book 7)

by J. J. Henderson

  Adding failure to clean up dog poop to her list of crimes, Lucy called Claud and hurried back. She met Robin and Ellen coming out, bags in hands. Ellen wore a pair of Lucy's pants and one of her sweatshirts. Make-up free and natural-haired, she looked fresh, all youthful innocence. "Time to go, Luce," said Robin.

  "No shit," said Lucy. "Look at this." She showed them the paper. "You have your sunglasses, hon?"

  "You sure you don't want to...you know, give up now, Luce?" Robin said.

  "Not yet, honey. We gotta see a lawyer first. Right Ellen?"

  "I guess so, Lucy."

  "You guess so?! You'd better guess so, darling, because if we turn ourselves in now you'll be jetting back to Utah in handcuffs before you know what hit you."

  "So why don't we just drive to a lawyer's office and...you know, just..."

  "Because I want to find the right lawyer and...I don't know. Maybe we won't go to a lawyer. Maybe we'll get plastic surgery and become dental technicians in Spokane, or get on a plane and go live happily ever after in Vladivostock! How does that sound?"

  "Where's Vladivostock?" said Ellen. "Is that in Alaska?"

  "Russia, kid," said Robin. "Siberia. Little Gulag action sounds good, Luce."

  "Way things are going we may be entering the American Gulag soon."

  They rolled onto the ferry just in time, third from the last car, and parked. There weren't many people headed west towards Bainbridge and the Kitsap Peninsula this time of day. The main commute ran in the opposite direction, lawyers and doctors, Seattle-bound. Doing time in the downtown office to pay for the upscale hick life on the island. As they headed up to the main passenger level of the ferry, Lucy felt a certain elation, now that she was irrevocably sucked into the Ellen Longford maelstrom. She was an anarchist at heart, she decided, or at least born to make trouble. Born to run. "Get those shades on, baby, we're starring on America's Most Wanted this week."

  "Cool view," said Ellen. They all wore sunglasses, like a row of spies. They stood outside on the deck, wrapped lightly against the cool morning wind. A pair of gulls floated along on the slipstream just a few feet away, crying for handouts. They looked back at the receding city, with the sun lifting over the skyline and the red, insect-like container cranes on Harbor Island; and ahead at Bainbridge and the Olympic Mountains beyond, glowing softly in the pink light of a clear morning. A Puget Sound ferry was a wonder, the first time.

  "Yeah, it's nice," said Robin. "Not that I'd want to live out there," she said, gazing at the island. "Waiting for these boats can be a bitch. And the people on Bainbridge are ridiculous. They think anyone who moves there after they did is evil. But where you guys're gonna hang out is cool. Way back in the woods."

  "Sounds idyllic," said Lucy. "Not that idyllic's exactly on the menu. Shit, Robster, what are...what do you think we should do?"

  "You don't have any choice, Luce. You know that. You're no outlaw. Only question is are you going to turn yourself in before they run you down."

  "You hear what she's saying, Ellen?" Lucy said. "What do you think?"

  "I don't know. I thought I'd be...you know, on my own. I didn't figure on all this...on you guys helping me. I mean it seems like a good idea to...talk to someone, but...what if they...what if they take me back, and..."

  "They take you back I'll go with you," said Lucy, putting her arm around the girl. "Whatever happens, Ellen, I'll be there." Whatever that means, Lucy said to herself. The momentum of the thing had her now, and she knew there was no turning back. But she had to wonder why she'd done it. What did she hope to accomplish? No clear answers presented themselves; only this child at her side, not exactly innocent.

  As the ferry churned into Eagle Harbor they went downstairs to wait in the car. They drove off with the others, passed the sea of cars waiting to board the rush hour boat, and went into the town of Bainbridge Island for groceries. "You get to pick five things," Lucy said to Ellen as they entered the market. Ellen had taken hers off but Lucy still wore her round spectacle sunglasses. "But only five. The rest's up to me. Got it?"

  "Sure, Lucy," said Ellen, grabbing a cart. The market was spacious and amazingly well-stocked. Half an hour later Lucy the supermarket-deprived New Yorker had piled her cart high with fresh fruit and vegetables, whole grains, sugar-free cookies, low fat frozen yogurt, organic dogfood, and all the other green and politically-correct food she and Claud lived on. Ellen's contribution included extra large-sized bags of corn chips, potato chips, and bright orange cheese puffs, along with a gallon of chocolate ice cream and a large bag of chocolate chip cookies. They compromised on hamburger supplies, jars of spaghetti sauce and bags of cheap pasta, a couple of free range chickens, and jars of peanut butter and raspberry jam along with a couple of loaves of semi-whole grain bread. Lucy refused to get the instant mashed potatoes, although Ellen said she'd never eaten "real" mashed potatoes and was aghast at the thought. They rolled up to check-out, where the checker, a pretty Japanese-American woman, took a look at the two of them and did a slight double take before scanning the first item.

  "Something wrong?" Lucy said, stretching for nonchalance.

  "No," said the checker, shaking her head. "I'm sorry for staring...it's just that...you look like someone I know, or...I thought for a minute I'd..." She scanned a bag of carrots. "I know I haven't seen you here before, but...you folks don't live on the island, do you?"

  "Nah, just visiting some friends," Lucy said.

  "Right," said the woman. "I guess you just look like someone else is all."

  Robin appeared at the market door. "How you guys doin'?" she said, tapping her watch.

  "We're outta here," said Lucy, paying up and quickly putting the bags into the cart. They marched out. "Damn, why did we use our real names in front of her? That woman sees the paper now we're dead meat!"

  "What happened?" Robin said. "Here. I got you a latte, and you a hot chocolate, Ellen."

  "A little case of near recognition," Lucy said. "Thanks." She sipped the coffee. "It's like we're...almost famous, honey."

  "Best we leave civilization behind ASAP, eh Luce?" said Robin as they reached the car and loaded the groceries.

  "Without a doubt," Lucy said.

  "Pretty darn quaint," Lucy said, looking around as they drove out of town.

  "You bet, honey," said Robin. "See that burger place? When they built it you'd have thought the end of the world had arrived, the way some people were talking."

  "Well, it is an ugly sucker isn't it?" said Lucy.

  "Yeah, but...well, let's put it this way: everyone on this island has at least one cell phone, but when the phone company wanted to put in a tower to improve the service they practically had a revolution on their hands, everybody whining about electromagnetic pollution."

  "Mind if I open these?" Ellen said, grabbing the cheese puffs out of the grocery bag. "I didn't eat much breakfast."

  Lucy looked back at her. "Jesus, Ellen, it's hardly past eight a.m. You oughta eat..." Ellen's face fell. "Oh, never mind. Pig out, what do I care?" she said. "I'm not your mother."

  "Actually," Robin said, reaching back. "I seem to recall those cheese thingies were pretty tasty in their time, Luce." Ellen offered the bag. Robin grabbed a few, tossed them in her mouth, and began crunching. "Yuck. I take it back." She swallowed quickly, and drained her coffee. "How can you eat that shit, Ellen?" she asked.

  Ellen was shoveling them down at full speed. "These are good," she said. "I eat 'em all the time. Dog likes 'em. Look." Lucy watched Claud take a cheese puff from Ellen's hand, crunch it gently, and swallow. He looked at her, asking for another.

  "Don't give my dog a bunch of those," Lucy said. "He has a delicate stomach, and a tendency to get fat."

  "Welcome to the club, Claud," said Robin. "So this road we’re driving is High School Road. We turn left up here on Fletcher Bay Road, and then right by the dirt pile."

  "What's the dirt pile?"

  "Just that—a big pile of dirt by the side of the road. The guys t
hat own the land have been selling it. There's a bunch of houses back in there, and this cabin is like the very last one at the end of one of the side roads. Here we are," she added. They turned right off the pavement. The dirt road led past a long row of country-style mailboxes, then swerved left. They passed a couple of small houses. Three large, wild-looking dogs ran after them, barking and snapping, sending Claud into a momentary frenzy. They rounded a pond on the right with two matching Airstreams parked by it, and then the road forked about five ways at once. Taking a left, they drove up a hill past an old bulldozer, dropped down into a little dell, and drove another hundred yards through a thicket of pine trees to emerge into a field covered with bright yellow Scotch broom. On a little rise on the other side of the field a small, natural wood-finished cabin was situated against a forest of old growth cedar trees. It was the only building in sight.

  "Wow!" said Lucy. "This is the place?"

  "You like it?" Robin said.

  "It's great. Like a fairy tale cottage. Where are the dwarves?"

  "It's the secret house," said Ellen. They stopped out front. A set of steps led up to a porch than ran the length of the small shingled cabin. A red moped leaned against one side of the steps, and a mountain bike leaned against the other. A black stovepipe chimney poked up through the shingled roof. Blue lobelia and red geraniums spilled out of planter boxes under white-framed windows symmetrically flanking the front door. When Lucy opened the car door Claud jumped over her and galloped back down the driveway. She stepped out, watched him for a few seconds, then whistled. He skidded to a halt a hundred yards away, then charged back.

  "Dog's gonna like it here, that's for sure," said Lucy. They paused, looking and listening. The dog ran into the woods. They heard nothing but the wind in the high branches of the cedar and spruce trees; and from somewhere came the faint silver sound of water flowing over rocks. "It's beautiful," Lucy said softly. "And you're right, El," she added. "It is secret. No one's gonna find us here." She grabbed a bag of groceries out of the car and headed up the steps. "Where's the nearest neighbor?" She pushed a rocker, set it creaking into motion on the porch.

  "Back down the road. Couple old brothers that used to own all this land live in those matching silver trailers by the pond. Clarence and Harvey. They're like eighty year old hippies. There's a few dozen houses back off those other roads, but up here this is the only one. I don't know what's in the woods that way," Robin said, pointing up behind the cabin. "Never been back there."

  "Door's not even locked," Lucy said, and went in. Robin and Ellen followed, and the three of them put down the groceries and had a look around. A tidy little place, sparsely furnished. The living room had a small sofa and a rocker facing a wood stove, with the kitchen behind a sit-down counter. TV in one bedroom, stereo in the living room, computer on the desk in the other bedroom. Lucy took the computer room, Ellen took the tv room.

  "Here's the key to the moped," Robin said. "It works fine. Just turn it on and pedal to start the motor. Claire'll be back in a week. She said you could use the computer but stay out of her files, and the password is radec. She’s got broadband so its fast and you can talk on the phone at the same time if you want."

  "Radec?"

  "R A D E C. It's cedar spelled backwards. Get it?"

  "Got it," said Lucy. "Well it's not like I have a lot of web work to do right now."

  "It's there if you need it. Meanwhile I gotta go. I have an appointment at ten thirty and if I miss the next ferry I'm an hour late."

  They went outside. "Does Claire know why we're here?" Lucy asked.

  "All she knows is that you're my friend. She trusts me." Robin opened the car door. "So I'll call you tonight, check in."

  "Hey, Robin," Lucy said. "Thanks for everything."

  "Yeah, Robin," said Ellen. "Thank you."

  "No problem. I just hope you girls can work this out," Robin said. "Talk to you later." She turned the car around and drove off with a wave.

  Cruising up I-5 in her black BMW, just north of Tacoma Loretta punched in the first of the phone numbers. "Hello?" A man's voice.

  "Jack Morris, please."

  "Speaking. Can I..."

  "Oh, hi, Mr. Morris. I'm a friend of Lucy Ripken's and she asked me to call you. Have you seen Lucy lately?"

  "Lucy Ripken? God no. Now there's a blast from the past. I haven't...she was a friend of my ex-wife...I don't think I've talked to her in...what, seven or eight years."

  "Mr. Morris, do you...did you and your ex-wife...have a daughter named Ellen?"

  "Ellen? No. We've got two boys, but they both live with their mother down in Eugene. I...how is Lucy, anyway?"

  "She's fine. Thanks, Mr. Morris." She cut off the phone. No surprise there, but she had felt a need to confirm things before proceeding. The next three numbers she'd gotten from information after coaxing the names out of Althea. Althea had been hesitant, and Loretta could understand it, even after their encounter with the FBI. Althea was testing her, Loretta figured, trying to ascertain if she was on Lucy's side...and if not, to slow her down a little. Loretta wasn't sure herself where she stood. She wanted to help Lucy, but also to please Jeffrey, to put herself back into his good graces; to save the baby.

  Loretta had found numbers in Seattle for three of the names Althea gave her. Now she called them. When asked, "Hi, could I speak to Lucy Ripken?" each of the first two, Annie Winningham and Darryl Lunceford, responded similarly. "Lucy Ripken? How is that girl? I haven't seen her in years."

  The third number belonged to a woman named Robin Markham. A man answered the phone. "Hello?"

  "Hi," said Loretta. "Is Lucy Ripken there?"

  The man answered, "Who's calling, please?"

  "This is her friend Annie. Annie Winningham. To whom am I speaking?"

  "Dan Wainwright. I'm a friend of...Why do you need to reach Lucy?"

  "She's an old friend and I heard she was in town. Do you..."

  "I don't know her. I...she's a friend of my girlfriend's but I...we haven't seen her in...a long time."

  "Thanks. Sorry to bother you." Loretta called information and quickly wheedled the address out of the operator. Twenty minutes later she got off the freeway on Mercer Street, found a gas station, and bought a map of Seattle. Queen Anne was quite close, and she headed up. She parked close to the house, approached the gate, and pushed the bell.

  A moment later a bearded man opened the gate. "Yes?"

  "Hi...?""

  "Uh-huh."

  "My name's Loretta. I'm Lucy's sister and I know you know where she is...she probably told you..."

  "That was you on the phone."

  "Yes. I'm sorry. I...listen, I know Lucy thinks I'm trying to...make things difficult for her, but I just want to help her. Is she..."

  "I don't know anything about it," said Dan. "Robin's not here and I don't know anyone named Lucy. So..." he started to close the gate.

  "Please. I...if she's here just..."

  "She's not," he said, and closed the gate.

  Loretta shouted over the gate. "Tell her I'll be staying at the Alexis Hotel if she wants to talk to me. Please. Please tell her." She heard the door open and close down below. She was sure he'd heard her. She stood for a moment, contemplating whether or not she should bang on the gate, and decided against it.

  From their unmarked sedan a hundred yards up the street Devereaux and Larsen watched Loretta walk to the gate. As soon as they saw which gate Larsen cross-checked in his directory. "Twenty-two sixteen....OK, here it is. Robin Markham." He picked up the phone and called in. "Larsen here. Got a name to run. Robin Markham. I don't know. Wait." He saw the gate swing open, and a bearded man appeared. "Male Caucasian, late thirties, five ten." They watched Loretta walk back to her car.

  "Should we follow her?" asked Devereaux, starting the car.

  "Shit...I don't know. I wonder who the hell's Markham?" He picked up the phone, punched a button. "Got anything on Markham?" He listened a minute. "Nothing? Thanks." He hung up. "Better fo
llow her," he said. "Nothing going on with this Markham. But we know where he lives. We can always come back."

  Loretta headed downtown. They followed her down First Avenue to the Alexis Hotel, where a valet took the car. They watched her go in.

  They got everything put away in the cabin and then Lucy turned on the computer and knocked out a letter to Jack Harshman assigning her loft tenant rights to Derek. "Yo, Ellen," she called into the other room, "I gotta go into town and get this thing notarized and Fed Ex'd. You watch out for the pup, OK?" Getting no response, Lucy went to the other bedroom door, which Ellen had closed. Lucy could hear the TV droning on other side. She knocked softly. "Hey Ellen," she said. "Can I come in?"

  "Yeah, sure, Lucy," she said. Lucy opened the door. Ellen and Claud lay on the bed watching a soap. "Hey, it's nice outside. What're you doin' in here?"

  "Nothin'," Ellen said. "Dog asked if he could watch." She glanced at Lucy, then back at the tv. "What's up?"

  "I need to get some paperwork done. I'm gonna take the moped. Shouldn't be more than an hour. OK?"

  "Yeah. But aren't you scared someone's gonna recognize you?"

  "Uh-huh, but I need to this done. If the phone rings don't answer it, OK? You get restless, take Claud for a walk in the woods. Looks beautiful back there."

  "Yeah, OK, Lucy. See ya later," she said, her attention back on the tube.

  Lucy strapped her files onto the moped rack, turned the key on, and pedaled till the engine caught. She dodged through the trees, past trailers and dogs and mailboxes, headed into town back the way she'd come. En route she contemplated Ellen, whose blank, numb face, gazing up dispassionately from her TV-induced stupor, Lucy could not erase from her mind.