The Curious Case of the Missing Figurehead: A Novel (A Professor and Mrs. Littlefield Mystery)

by Diane Noble

  The choir trooped back to the risers and took their places with Chloe Grace in the center front, and I sat down in the nearest pew, my heart growing heavier by the minute.

  As the choir and organist listened to Cleon give direction for their next run-through, I leaned forward and dropped my forehead into my hands. I thought of Max’s ongoing conversation with God, and his prayer of gratitude. Ongoing? I could think of only one thing to say right now, and it wasn’t, Hey, thanks. It was, Help!

  When Chloe Grace began to sing, I brought my head up with a snap. She stood up tall, beaming like a sunflower in a patch of sunlight, her voice loud and clear. Behind her, the choir clapped and swayed and almost danced. Someone handed Chloe Grace a tambourine, and she shook it in time to the music as the choir and organist joined in for the chorus.

  We all clapped when the song was over. Her little face flushed, Chloe Grace ran to me, her arms open to get a hug. For a moment, I forgot my huge disappointment and anxieties about the drive back to Eden’s Bridge.

  “You ever want to join our choir, you just give us a holler,” Cleon said as we stood to leave.

  They started over at verse one, this time in syncopated rhythm, as we moved to the aisle. I took Chloe Grace’s hand and we headed to the back of the sanctuary and the door that led outside and into the dark night.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Mrs. Littlefield

  I had just parked the Ghia in the Cracker Barrel parking lot when my cell phone rang.

  “I bet it’s Mommy,” Chloe Grace said from the backseat.

  “I bet you’re right,” I said, smiling, something I’d been doing a lot for the sake of my granddaughter. I picked up my phone, saw the ID, and answered.

  “Katie.”

  “How is everything going?” She sounded tense.

  “Very well. We’ve just stopped at the Cracker Barrel for a bite to eat.”

  “I thought you’d be back by now. I was getting worried.”

  “I’ll explain when we get home …”

  “Let me talk! Let me talk! Let me talk!” Chloe Grace bounced up and down in the backseat. I handed her the phone.

  “Mommy, I got to sing with a choir. It was the coolest thing ever. They let me sing a solo with them and play a tambourine. It was so cool.”

  They chatted a bit more, and then Chloe Grace handed the phone back to me.

  “I know you don’t like to drive at night.” Katie sounded worried. “Would you like for us to come pick you up? Sandy could drive your car, and you and C.G. could ride with me.”

  Us? Really? I took a moment to count backward from ten.

  “No, dear. I’m fine. Really. We’ll grab a bite to eat and be on our way. I’m going to take the interstate home. It’ll take longer for us to get there, but I think it’s safer than the shortcut at this time of night.”

  “We sang ‘This Little Light of Mine’ a thousand times.” Chloe Grace yelled from the backseat so her mom could hear her. “It’s my new favorite song ever.”

  Katie laughed. “She loves being with you.” Then she paused. “Did you have any luck tracing Cinth’s path?”

  I sighed deeply. “No. That’s been a disappointment.”

  We said our good-byes, and then Chloe Grace and I got out of the car and headed into the Cracker Barrel.

  “Fried chicken and mashed potatoes,” she declared as we stepped through the door. “I can’t wait.”

  We gave our name to the hostess and then looked around the country store. I’d promised she could buy one toy, and she was still methodically examining the shelves of children’s items when our name was called.

  We followed the hostess to our table through a large room that seemed to be filled to capacity.

  “Lots of people like this place,” Chloe Grace said. “Did you know so many people liked it, Gramsy?”

  “It’s probably because it’s near the interstate. It’s a handy place for a restroom stop, and they have good food.”

  “I need to go,” she announced, bouncing up and down.

  “How about waiting until we order? Then we’ll go.”

  She nodded, still bouncing.

  Finally, the waitress came for our orders and we headed to the restroom. I stood guard at the stall door, while Chloe Grace used the toilet, and then we switched places.

  “Stay right by this stall,” I said. “It’s important. Do you understand?”

  We’d had this conversation before in public restrooms, and I was confident she knew the rules. I chatted with her through the closed door. She chatted back, giggling and happy. Then suddenly she didn’t answer.

  “Chloe Grace!”

  No answer.

  I pulled up my jeans and undies and flew out of the stall. The area around the basins and mirror was crowded.

  “Chloe Grace!” I called, fighting the feeling of panic. “Chloe Grace?”

  I moved through the knots of women and little girls washing their hands.

  “Chloe Grace! This no time to be hiding, if that’s what you’re doing. Come out right now.” It didn’t matter that she’d never hidden from me before in her life.

  By now everyone in the restroom had fallen quiet. Several women stooped to look under the occupied stalls, but my granddaughter had disappeared.

  I ran out the door into the waiting area. I still didn’t see her. I found the hostess and told her my granddaughter was missing. She remembered seating us and said she hadn’t seen the child.

  “Why don’t you see if she decided to return to your table? If she isn’t there, we’ll call the police. Meanwhile, I’ll alert the manager.”

  I ran into the dining area and spotted our table. It was empty.

  In that moment, I wanted to die. This was a thousand times worse than my fire phobia. A million times worse: a lost child. My beloved grandchild.

  Time stood still, and then I heard, “Gramsy! Over here. Look what I found.”

  I looked two tables over from ours. There stood Chloe Grace at one end with a bangle bracelet on her arm. Seated at the table was a middle-aged couple, looking at once confused and delighted.

  “You scared me to death, honey.” I knelt beside her so we were eye to eye. “How many times have I told you to stay put when we’re in a public restroom?”

  “I’m sorry,” Chloe Grace said, big tears filling her eyes. “I saw this bracelet. It’s just like the one I helped Mommy pick out for Auntie Cinth last Christmas. See, it’s got a little heart ’graved on it.”

  I hugged her close, promising myself I would never let her out of my sight again, squeezed her gently once more, and then stood.

  The woman gave us an understanding smile. “Your granddaughter must have spotted it when I was washing my hands. I didn’t know she’d followed me out here until just a moment ago. I’m so sorry to have frightened you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chloe Grace said, tears still streaming. I kept my arm wrapped around her shoulders. She handed the bracelet back to the woman, who smiled and thanked her.

  “It was a gift,” she said. “I’m glad your aunt has one like it. It’s very pretty.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw our food being delivered to our table. I thanked the couple for keeping watch over Chloe Grace.

  As we left, the man said, “I hope you don’t have far to go tonight. I hear we may get showers.”

  I wondered if any worse news could be delivered before this day ended. Slick streets. Glaring lights on wet pavement. My night-vision problems.

  “Oh dear,” I said, trying not to sound as discouraged as I felt. “We do have a few hours ahead of us. We’re headed to Eden’s Bridge.”

  “Godspeed,” the man said, looking concerned. He exchanged a glance with his wife, which puzzled me.

  Chloe Grace’s tears had disappeared by the time she picked up her drumstick an
d began scooping up her mashed potatoes and applesauce like there was no tomorrow. She passed on the peas and sweet potatoes, and then decided on chocolate ice cream for dessert.

  We talked about the toys she’d seen earlier in the general store. Her eyes were bright as she told me about a ballerina sock monkey she spotted on a top shelf. “And he’s dressed in a tutu.” She giggled. “Except he’s a girl monkey.”

  We paid for our meals, visited the restroom once more, and then stopped to buy the sock monkey.

  “She’s beautiful,” Chloe Grace whispered when the salesclerk laid the toy in her arms. She looked up at me. “I’m going to name her Pumpkin, ’cause that’s what you call me sometimes.”

  We walked out into the parking lot. I smelled rain in the air, and shivered, thinking of the drive ahead. There weren’t as many cars now as there had been when we arrived.

  We’d almost reached the Ghia when Chloe Grace looked up at me and smiled. My breath caught in my throat as I remembered the panic I’d felt when I thought she was lost. I hugged her close, taking joy in that moment just knowing she was with me.

  As I unlocked the Ghia, Chloe Grace started singing “This Little Light of Mine” in perfect syncopated rhythm, swinging the monkey by its arms in a made-up dance. I leaned against the car for a moment, watching her and feeling my heart lift at the sight of her face, now beaming as bright as an August moon.

  I was about to get her to hop in the backseat, when the couple we’d talked with earlier appeared just a few feet away.

  “We heard your little one singing just now,” the man said. “That’s an unusual rendition of that little song.”

  I smiled. “She just learned it. We stopped by a church a couple of hours ago during choir practice. The director asked her to sing with them. I don’t think she’s stopped singing it since then.”

  “A church here in town?”

  “Possum Grove Holy Ghost Revival.”

  They looked at each other and then back at me. “That’s our church,” the woman said. “My husband’s the pastor. And it was likely our son leadin’ the choir. My name’s Josie Mae Washington, and this old man”—she grinned—“is my husband. You can just call him Pastor Marshall.”

  The Holy Ghost indeed. I laughed and hugged them both. “Is there a chance you met my friend Hyacinth Gilvertin? She called me from your phone yesterday.”

  “Well, lands, yes. I did indeed meet her. Sweetest lady ever.” She shook her head. “She told me she’s gotten herself in some big trouble, though. I tried to get her to stay with us for a spell, rest up at least one day. But she’d have none of it. She got on an old bicycle we gave her and pedaled on down the road. Said she was after some bad guys who stole something she wanted to get back.”

  “Did you see which direction she went?”

  “Oh yes,” Josie Mae said. “She was coming this direction. Straight down this same road. But I don’t have any idea where she went next.”

  She thought for a minute and then said, “The last I saw of her was on the road leading from church toward town. Just before she left, she asked me if I were a thief with hot goods which direction would I go. I told her back to the interstate. So that’s the direction she went. She planned to look along the way for the rental truck that dropped her in the graveyard. She said it was one of the ones you see all the time on the highway. ‘Coast to Coast,’ I believe she called it. The ones with a picture of Yosemite on it. She said to tell you, let me see if I can remember it, yes, she said, ‘Nancy ate 724 hamburgers.’ Do you know what that means?”

  “No, but I’ll figure it out.” I could have hugged her. This was the most information I’d received so far. “Anything else?”

  Josie Mae shook her head. “I told your friend that if it was me, I wouldn’t try to find someone who would do such a thing, but your friend, Hyacinth, seemed determined. Said they took something of value that she wanted to get back.”

  She glanced down at her bracelet and then knelt so she was level with Chloe Grace. “Child, I want you to take this back to your mama to keep safe until your Auntie Cinth gets home, you hear?”

  Chloe Grace nodded solemnly, holding her ballerina monkey close.

  “’Cause it was your pretty eyes that spotted it as belongin’ to your auntie. That sort of thing doesn’t happen very often. And when it does, I always think it’s because God sends His angels to give us little clues about things. I think a little angel gave you a clue tonight. You hold that thought dear to your heart, okay?”

  Chloe Grace smiled and nodded. “An angel?”

  Josie Mae laughed as she stood. “Yes, ma’am. A real angel.”

  Then Pastor Marshall stepped up. “We’re traveling in that Winnebago over there. It would please us if you’d like to tuck in behind us. It’ll keep you outa some of the wind and sheltered from the rain and oncoming headlights.”

  I shook my head in wonder, then realized they might think I was saying no. I grinned. “Thank you. You have no idea how—”

  He held up his hand. “Think nothing of it. We’re going the same direction anyway.” Then he laughed. “By the way, where are you headed again?”

  I remembered what the choir members had said about them being led by the Spirit, and my smile widened. “Eden’s Bridge.”

  “Lotta good folk there,” the pastor said. “Maybe we’ll stick around for a while.”

  “I hope you do. Our town could use a couple of angels like you two.”

  They chuckled as they walked back to the Winnebago.

  Chloe Grace and I climbed back into the Ghia. In less than five minutes, the Winnebago rolled to the parking lot exit, and I followed.

  Not that I wasn’t nervous. Truth be told, I was quaking in my tennies. Especially with my little angel in the backseat, and me unable to rid my mind of the horror of those few minutes I’d thought she had been kidnapped.

  Even so, as I followed along, protected from the storm, I figured if there was ever a “Hey, thanks,” moment, this was it. I might yet get the hang of this ongoing conversation with God after all.

  “Gramsy,” called a little voice from the backseat. “I’m worried about my heart. How can someone steal it? You said Dr. Ainsley was going to steal it like he did Mama’s. That scared me. He … operates on people. Cuts them open.” She started to sniffle and I knew she was crying.

  This called for emergency measures. I flashed my hazard lights at the Winnebago and then signaled the need to pull over. The big RV lumbered to the side of the road, with us right behind.

  As soon as we stopped, I got out and reached for my granddaughter. She came into my arms and clung to me. “I don’t want anyone to steal my heart.”

  “No one ever will unless you let them,” I said softly into her hair. “I promise you.” I pulled back and smiled. “Besides, that’s not really what it means when people say that. Your heart will always be right here”—I gently thumped her chest—“beating strong and healthy, just like always. ‘Steal your heart’ is an expression people use when they talk about your feelings inside.” I watched her face in the glow of the Winnebago’s taillights.

  I sat on the edge of my driver’s-side seat and pulled her into my lap. “I spoke harshly to your … to your mom’s friend last night. It wasn’t the right thing for me to do. He wants to be friends with you and your mama, and I just want him to give your mama time to decide if she wants to be friends again.”

  “They were friends before?”

  “A long time ago. But your mama will have to tell you that story.”

  “So he’s not going to steal my heart.”

  “No. I promise.”

  Chloe Grace heaved a big sigh. “Can I be his friend again?”

  Now I sighed and prayed for grace. “Absolutely, sweetie. Absolutely.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Mrs. Littlefield

  The next
morning as I showered and dressed, I went over my mental to-do list: call realtors about the owner of the property/cabin fire scene; find out what the Sutherland boys were doing at Hyacinth’s; call Sheriff Doyle to see if the officers he’d sent out yesterday found anything; investigate how someone bought illegal ipecac; call Silas Sutherland about cabin ownership. And I wanted to return to the intersection of Possum Grove Road and the interstate with a photograph of Hyacinth and ask if anyone had noticed her.

  How could anyone miss a healthy-sized woman, with bright red curls, riding a bicycle, for heaven’s sake?

  And what in the world did “Nancy ate 724 hamburgers” mean?

  As soon as I finished dressing and fluffing my hair, I went down the hall to check on Chloe Grace in the guest room. She was still sleeping soundly, the ballerina sock monkey tucked under her arm. The sight warmed every part of me. Grandchildren had to be one of the greatest gifts of getting older. I studied the curve of her cheek, so like her mother’s at that age, the soft strands of hair splayed on her pillow, the relaxed curl of little fingers, the soft rise and fall of her breathing.

  I heard my cell phone ring, but I’d left it plugged into the charger on the kitchen counter. By the time I picked it up, the call had gone to voice mail. I waited for the chirping signal and then touched the icon to listen.

  “Hi, Mom, I thought I’d stop by on my way to work, if it’s okay. I wanted to fill you in on my conversation with Sandy. If C.G. is awake, then we’ll wait to talk until later. No need to call me back. Put on the coffee and I’ll see you around seven thirty.”

  My shoulders sagged, and I sank into a chair and rubbed my temples. I was fighting a headache from last night’s drive, and I had planned to get started on my to-do list as soon as Chloe Grace awoke.

  I made another pot of coffee, placed it on a tray with two cups and my favorite fixings, then carried it to the potting shed and placed it on the corner of my desk.

  The air smelled of damp loamy soil and fragrant herbs—rosemary, basil, and thyme—growing in my garden. I felt the need to keep moving, and though sitting in my wicker chair near the garden was a favorite pastime, I couldn’t bring myself to sit still.