Miss Pink Investigates- Part Four

by Gwen Moffat

  ‘Have all the barns and cabins been visited?’ Miss Pink asked.

  ‘Jay Gafford was up to an old shack in Scorpion. I’ve done the buildings at my farm.’ His face set and he stared stonily towards the river. ‘Michael Vosker was down there too,’ he added dully.

  ‘We’ll ride on and talk to the Harpers,’ Pearl said. ‘And then I guess we have to call Thelma and Ira.’

  He sighed heavily and nodded.

  ‘Do you know where Kristen is?’ Miss Pink asked.

  ‘I haven’t seen her. Did you want her for something special? I’ll tell her if she’s home when I get there.’

  ‘Tell her to give us a call. And there’s Daryl, he might have some ideas.’

  ‘He doesn’t. He found nothing in the river meadows.’

  ‘He’s obsessed with the river,’ Pearl murmured as they rode on. ‘Do you wonder? Hell,’ she burst out, ‘why is all this happening in one place: Veronica, Gregorio, now Tammy?’

  ‘Tammy’s only missing. What makes you think otherwise?’

  Pearl glowered, her hat brim shielding her eyes. ‘Because he does?’ she ventured, jerking her head, indicating Scott.

  Chapter 10

  ‘Kristen, can we have a word?’

  ‘For Heavens’ sakes, she only just got in! Let her eat.’

  Maxine glared at Pearl across the kitchen table where Kristen sat before a plate of steak and chips. The girl was drawn with fatigue; she had been on the go for twelve hours, by now she must be running on nervous energy.

  ‘What d’you want?’ she asked listlessly.

  Pearl hesitated and glanced at Miss Pink. The men had come back before Kristen and were sprawled on the sofa in the living-room, drinking beer.

  ‘You got something private to say to her?’ Maxine asked coldly. ‘You want me to go?’

  Kristen sighed and pushed her plate away. Pearl’s eyes widened. Miss Pink asked pleasantly, ‘Where’s Tammy?’

  ‘Safe,’ Kristen said. ‘I hope she’s safe in Palomares. That’s where I think she is – or on the way to Texas.’

  ‘That’s what we reckon.’ Gafford had approached silently and was leaning against the door jamb. ‘She’s nowhere here,’ he added, his eyes on Kristen. ‘We looked everywhere: between the cliffs and the river, up Scorpion – why, we searched much further than she could go on foot, and we was calling all the time. She’s not here.’

  Harper appeared at his elbow. ‘If she was hurt,’ he said, ‘like in a fever ’cause of some bite, she couldn’t call out. And we couldn’t look in all the draws and arroyos, the weeds is so thick. If she was laying in one of them places—’ His frightened eyes sought Maxine’s, shying away from the responsibility which had suddenly descended on them.

  Gafford was putting up a better front, all the same he was on edge; they were all on edge but where the Harpers were frankly terrified, Gafford and Kristen seemed to be in control, alert and purposeful – which was remarkable in the case of Kristen who was plainly worn down with fatigue.

  ‘You gotta eat,’ Maxine said desperately as the girl picked at her food.

  ‘I’m not hungry. I’ll put it in a bag.’

  ‘You’re coming back with us,’ Pearl said. ‘You need some sleep.’

  Kristen’s eyes narrowed and her mouth set. She stood up and went to fill her glass at the tap. ‘Look at you,’ Pearl scolded, ‘you’re dehydrated: out in the sun all day—’

  ‘Everyone was. So what?’

  ‘Something I don’t understand’ – Miss Pink was persistent as a terrier – ‘last night you said Tammy was terrified, that she was frightened of the dark—’

  ‘It was true.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ Pearl said hotly, while Maxine gaped. ‘I said so then, and I say so now: Tammy was not—’

  ‘What was she scared of?’ Maxine asked, her eyes going to her husband.

  ‘It was what she said,’ Kristen shouted. Gafford’s eyes were like a wolf’s: watching, careful. ‘She wouldn’t tell me why,’ she said more quietly, staring at her plate. ‘I get the picture now, she was planning it already, planning to run away, try and get to Texas.’

  ‘Why would it be easier to run away from my place than from here?’ Pearl asked.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake! I can’t see into the kid’s mind. If I could, I’d know where she was now.’

  ‘You reckon she’s in Texas,’ Pearl reminded her. ‘There’s one way to settle that’ – she looked round in triumph – ‘we call Ira.’ She realised what she’d said and frowned. ‘Do we?’ she asked Miss Pink.

  ‘I think you should,’ Maxine said stoutly.

  ‘And me,’ Harper said. ‘Her folks have to be told.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Gafford was watching Kristen. ‘I’m all for that.’

  ‘Where’d she get the money for the plane ticket?’ Pearl asked. ‘And how did she reach the interstate? Her bike’s still here. Would she call a cab?’ Her voice rose.

  ‘It’s easy enough to find out,’ Maxine urged. ‘Either she’s arrived and she’s with her folks in Big Thicket, or she’s still on the plane. Wayne Spikol can ask at the airport if a kid of twelve flew to Houston early this morning, no one could miss her in those clothes.’ Heads turned slowly and she looked thoughtful. ‘Maybe she wasn’t wearing them, she was in jeans when she went to bed.’

  ‘What clothes?’ Kristen asked.

  ‘Well, sweetie’ – Pearl remembered Kristen’s disapproval – ‘she seems to have hung on to that frock, remember, the one we all thought was so unsuitable? And the heels?’

  Maxine said doubtfully, ‘I don’t think she’d have worn it to go to Texas.’

  Kristen said, ‘What is this? When did she wear it?’

  ‘It was nothing.’ Pearl was playing it down. ‘She probably went to the fiesta is what we think. She was wearing it when she went out on her bike – both Maxine and Marge saw her – but she was home again for supper-time, wasn’t she, Maxine? She must have gone to her own home and changed.’

  ‘So who’s going to call Ira?’ Maxine said loudly.

  Pearl looked at the attentive faces. ‘I guess it has to be me,’ she said.

  The call was painful, particularly as the listeners guessed what was being said at the other end. Pearl asked to speak to Ira, not Thelma, and it was obvious, when he came on the line, that he had no idea where Tammy was, moreover she hadn’t contacted her parents. Pearl’s tone became increasingly artificial as she tried to be reassuring. She told him they had searched everywhere, or everywhere that was a likely place to find a child, but the corollary hung in the air: a child who was incapable of calling for help. There was a chair by the telephone and she sat down suddenly. Ira must have mentioned the police. ‘I’ll call Wayne now,’ she said weakly, ‘if that’s what you want.’ She cleared her throat and repeated it loudly. The morose mood of the listeners deepened.

  Miss Pink leaned towards Harper. ‘Would you have any whiskey? Or brandy? She could do with it.’

  Pearl put down the receiver. ‘He’s going to talk with Thelma and call us back. He flipped. How awful for him; his old dad’s sinking, he says, and now his kid – it doesn’t bear thinking about. Why, thanks, Daryl’ – as he handed her a shot glass – ‘sweet of you. I need it.’

  ‘That was difficult.’ Miss Pink was admiring.

  ‘I felt so sorry for him.’

  ‘I know. I’ll ring Spikol. It’s my turn – ’ as Pearl made to protest. ‘If he wants to speak to you, then you can fill in the gaps. I’ll do the groundwork.’

  To her surprise no one else protested but had anyone done so, then he would have been forced to inform the police himself – or herself – and no one seemed inclined to do that. The Harpers were blatantly expectant as if, having relinquished responsibility, it was of no account to them whether Miss Pink was a resident of Regis or a country ten thousand miles away. As for Gafford, he was concentrating on the whiskey Harper had poured for him. Only Kristen looked doubtful but she made no move to speak. Too young, M
iss Pink thought; all of them: they were relieved that the adults had taken over.

  Spikol’s initial reaction was predictable: Tammy was with a schoolfriend. When Miss Pink pointed out that a friend’s parents would have insisted that she call home, that her bicycle was still at the ranch so either she had left on foot or been picked up – the implication being by an adult – there was silence at the other end of the line. At length he asked what they had done so far to try to find her. She told him, and told him that Ira had asked for the police to be informed.

  ‘Have you called the hospital?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’ She was surprised; in this case it hadn’t been the first thing they’d thought of. ‘I don’t think she could drive’ – she mimed inquiry at the others – ‘they’re dubious, but no vehicle is missing anyway.’ There was no sign of contradiction in their faces.

  ‘I’ll make some inquiries in town,’ he told her. ‘Who were her friends here?’

  ‘I’ll put Kristen Scott on.’

  The girl came to the phone and took the handset. ‘She didn’t have any friends in town, sir, living way out here … ’ She listened, and started to list Tammy’s teachers.

  ‘He’s going to try to contact the parents of girls in her grade,’ she said when she replaced the phone. ‘And the hospital. He’ll come out in the morning. He doesn’t think she’s here, he reckons she’s in Santa Fe.’

  ‘Why Santa Fe?’ exclaimed Pearl.

  ‘Because that’s where runaways go.’

  The telephone rang. It was Thelma saying that she would return tomorrow, just as soon as she could get connections. She had persuaded Ira to stay in Texas.

  Kristen was upset. ‘It’s her dad that Tammy needs,’ she said. ‘She’s his princess, everyone knows that.’

  Pearl said gently, ‘It’s Ira’s father is dying, Kristy; he can’t leave right now.’

  Kristen bit her lip. Harper, apparently needing something to do, poured whiskey for everyone.

  Pearl and Miss Pink guessed that Spikol’s inquiries in Palomares would take a long time – not the hospital, he would ascertain almost immediately whether Tammy had been admitted – but tracing teachers and other children in her grade during the summer vacation. They decided to go home. Kristen elected to stay with the Harpers. ‘Then I’ll be on hand in the morning,’ she said flatly. ‘I’ll call Mom, tell her where I am.’

  They rode home in the shadow of the cliffs. Miss Pink regarded the bright desert mountains thoughtfully. Large birds were wheeling above the river.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Pearl asked, turning to see what the attraction was.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Vultures,’ Pearl said idly. After a moment she gasped and shivered.

  ‘No,’ Marge said. ‘I’ve heard nothing. Have a glass of wine and tell me what happened at the ranch. I saw you come home.’

  Miss Pink related the bare facts of her day, including the recent developments: the contact with Tammy’s parents and with Spikol.

  ‘Good,’ Marge said with satisfaction. ‘Now something’s being done.’

  ‘Can you think of anything we left out?’ Miss Pink was curious rather than tart.

  ‘You missed some people who could tell you a thing or two.’ She nodded sagely and poured herself another glass of wine.

  Miss Pink, at the right stage of perceptiveness, knew that the old lady was well past it. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she was airy, ‘I spoke to you and the Scotts. And there was Avril and Marian. We’ve been everywhere, seen everyone.’

  ‘You missed Fletcher Lloyd.’

  ‘I saw Avril. Same thing. What he knows, she’d know.’

  ‘He’s just the hired hand. Now if you was to ask Pearl, that’s a different matter. She’d tell you what Lloyd was doing and thinking. Avril Beck couldn’t.’

  Miss Pink’s eyelids drooped and snapped open. ‘Lonely bachelors need a motherly soul to talk to; what’s the term: letting it all hang out? They talk to me too.’ She nodded solemnly.

  ‘Fletcher Lloyd don’t visit across the road to talk, my dear. He has animal appetites, same as all the men. Pearl is’ – she smiled sweetly – ‘she provides accommodations, as the English would say.’

  ‘Really?’ Miss Pink was nonplussed. ‘Well, no harm done. Live and let live.’

  The silence stretched. ‘He was across there Sunday afternoon,’ Marge said wildly.

  ‘Sunday afternoon. Yes?’

  ‘So was Tammy, remember?’

  ‘There’s some connection?’ The question was sharp but the speech was slurred.

  ‘She’s disappeared, hasn’t she?’

  ‘What time Sunday afternoon was he in Pearl’s place?’

  ‘The same time as Tammy. I saw her.’ Marge’s eyes were like pebbles. ‘She was undressed.’

  ‘I couldn’t get any more out of her; she becomes increasingly wild, trying to convince you of her argument, until she goes too far and then she retreats, pretends she’s drunk.’

  Pearl strained the spaghetti and laughed. ‘She never got over Sam’s death. All the same, that’s way over the top: suggesting Fletch and Tammy were in here together. D’you mind opening that can of tomato paste? She’s going senile’ – she returned to her theme – ‘sitting there all day brooding … I guess the thought crossed everyone’s mind but to name someone – and Fletch at that! I wonder’ – she stared out of the window – ‘was he here, did he call?’

  ‘Good Heavens no! It was fantasy on her part—’

  ‘How can you know?’

  ‘He was on Midnight Mesa, looking for me in Slickrock.’

  ‘Of course he was. Poor old thing, she’s going out of her mind.’

  ‘Why does she suddenly turn on you? It’s not so much that she’s crude about you and Fletcher, what’s more unpleasant is that she’s hinting this is, well, a brothel, really: saying Tammy met Lloyd here.’

  ‘Surely you’ve come across this kind of thing before: old women living alone, younger women close by, neighbours. And then – senility; they’ve always gossiped, it puts a bit of spice in their dull lives. I just hope I don’t go like it, is all, but I don’t think I will, I enjoy myself too much.’

  They were drinking coffee on the veranda when Michael Vosker arrived and Miss Pink realised that here was another person whom she hadn’t seen today. ‘Marian told me you were driving the tracks between here and the river,’ she said, after they had told him about their own day.

  He nodded. ‘And I was along the river bank, about a mile in each direction. I’m glad the police have been informed; after twenty-four hours there was no more we could do. We’re only amateurs.’

  ‘Twenty-four hours.’ Pearl sighed. ‘I guess it’s about that since she must have gone as soon as she went in the bedroom. What do you think happened, Michael?’

  He was silent. Miss Pink rephrased it. ‘What do you think is the most likely explanation?’

  ‘I think she holed up somewhere.’

  ‘You mean, voluntarily?’

  ‘I hope so.’

  Miss Pink looked out at the dark patio and lowered her voice. ‘If it were not voluntary, would you be thinking in terms of a stranger or a local person?’

  ‘That’s wild,’ Pearl said.

  He ignored her. ‘There are only six men in Regis,’ he said, ‘including me; four when you exclude Ira and me. There are the three ranch-hands and Clayton Scott. So it has to be someone who’s not from Regis, and since she left the Harpers’ place voluntarily – it has to be voluntary, doesn’t it?’ Miss Pink nodded. ‘Then I’m inclined to think she’s holed up with a friend, like a schoolfriend. She’s not a stupid child and not particularly adventurous, not like Kristen, so I don’t see her running off with a boy. I reckon she’s with another young girl.’

  ‘What about the kid’s parents?’ Pearl protested. ‘Why don’t they call the Harpers to say she’s with them?’

  ‘There’s an obvious answer: parents could have gone away – on a vacation, or been
called away, like the Markows, and they left the other little girl with relatives or friends. But the kid’s house is empty, locked up. She takes Tammy there and agrees not to tell anyone. Bound to be food in the freezer and canned stuff.’

  ‘It wouldn’t work,’ Pearl said. ‘She’d be bored stiff.’

  ‘It’s a possibility.’

  ‘You’re thinking in terms of a house in town, or at least some distance from here,’ Miss Pink said. ‘How did she get there after she left the Harpers?’

  ‘She walked down the road and the friend met her in a car’ – the women were shaking their heads – ‘they learn to drive early here,’ he persisted. ‘They learn in the desert. It’s not an impossible hypothesis.’

  ‘I just hope you’re right,’ Pearl said gloomily. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take a shower. You stay, Michael, visit with Miss Pink a while.’ She went in the house but was back immediately with a bottle of Drambuie and glasses.

  When they could hear the shower running Miss Pink said conversationally, ‘There are two plots of marijuana in Slickrock Canyon.’

  ‘There are? Who’s growing it?’ When she didn’t respond he answered the question himself. ‘Jay, I guess; maybe with a hand from Kristen. Small plots, of course?’

  ‘There were no more than twenty plants in the bit that was left. Peccaries had trampled the other; they’ve probably destroyed the second by now.’

  ‘You were up there yesterday? Birding? I envy you. I’ve no head for heights so I’ve never been able to go down into Slickrock. What did you see?’

  ‘There’s a cabin in the bottom.’

  ‘Is there indeed! Now what would that be for? You can’t get cows into that canyon.’

  ‘It was Sam Dearing’s place. His mine is close by.’

  ‘Sam. Of course. How did you know that?’

  ‘Pearl told me.’ Now it was his turn to be silent. She went on: ‘Relationships are extraordinarily intricate in a village: like onions; one is constantly peeling away layers. If you’re a social anthropologist you know all about that. And the top layer is this skin of convention. Pearl and Marge: next door neighbours, ostensibly old and tried friends – and Marge, somewhat drunk, implying Pearl is a whore.’ He started, stared, and reached for his drink. ‘Pearl employs a child as a maid,’ she went on. ‘Why is she allowed to work here? Thelma may be careless, but Ira adores his daughter.’