A Fair to Die For (24 page)

He looked at his wife and continued, “Won’t take as long as if they have to sweep the entire area.”

Carrie stood. She’d gotten the message. They’d eventually search for the bullets whether or not she helped define a likely area.

“I’ll get a couple of things from my car, then let’s go,” the sheriff said.

Chapter Twenty-Four
WHO’S BEEN HERE?

As the car turned onto the old logging road after a very short drive, Carrie thought about what had seemed like such a long walk the evening before. Being in the same place again, however, did not cause any residual feelings of horror. She only felt gratitude that her life had been spared.

As soon as they reached the location she’d walked away from, she realized it probably would have been easy for the sheriff to identify the place without her help. There hadn’t been much breeze during the night, and accumulated branches and leaves marking where she and Second Man had gone into the forest were still disturbed. Not only that, she could see a scrap of white in the distance. Probably a tissue that had fallen from her pocket when she made her way out.

“This is it? The sheriff asked.

“Yes. Arnie stayed in the car, which was parked about where we are now. The other man and I headed into the trees where the disturbed leaves are. I remember that fallen tree because I saw it when I walked out last evening.”

“Smart of you to leave your hanky here.”

Carrie said nothing, since the tissue’s presence was a surprise to her.

“Will it be difficult for you to show me the exact location where the gun was fired? I’ll understand if you say it is. But, I’d like to find those bullets now, or at least one of them. Because of our circumstances, I need to be the one searching. I can’t send deputies up here with better equipment until you’ve been returned home officially.”

She said, “I’ll go with you, and glanced at Henry, hoping he couldn’t read her thoughts. She didn’t want those bullets found, but her own honesty—which right now seemed a burden—meant she’d help the sheriff.

She didn’t remember ever being so torn between two sides of a criminal case, or, for that matter, between two parts of any life circumstance.

Henry said, “I’ll go along too, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay,” the sheriff said, “Doubt any of us will disturb clues, but we’ll stay away from where they walked and keep our eyes open.”

“Of course,” Henry said, squeezing Carrie’s hand.

They walked into the woods, led by Carrie. When they came to the scrap of white caught on a fallen branch, Carrie saw that it was a man’s handkerchief, not one of her tissues as she had supposed, and she was sure there had been no cloth handkerchief here last night. That meant someone had come to this place since then. She walked on, saying nothing. Sheriff Cook would have to discover the implication by himself.

Both Henry and the sheriff passed the white cloth without comment, though Henry, at least, would know it wasn’t her’s.

When they came near the place where Second Man had fired into the ground, she couldn’t hide an exclamation.

Since neither of the men knew the exact spot they were headed for, it took both of them another moment to notice what she had.

She’d stopped moving, but the sheriff hurried forward, beating Henry to the newly disturbed piles of rocks, dirt, and leaves.

“I guess I was wrong about anyone coming back to get those bullets,” he said. “Obviously they were important, and would have told us something. Your Second Man—or someone—came back, found the place, and most likely dug them up. I doubt there’s any point to me searching now. If by chance he didn’t find them, I doubt I can without more workers and equipment. We’ll come here later with a metal detector, but he probably found both bullets unless one ricocheted wildly.”

Henry looked into the woods. “I assume he’s long gone.”

“The man is certainly no fool,” the sheriff replied, “I’d bet he was gone shortly after first light this morning.”

Carrie still said nothing.
And I hope none of us ever sees him again.

The sheriff poked around in the disturbed spot with the camping shovel he’d brought with him. It was obvious from his desultory movements that he thought there was no point to further searching, and he soon stopped. Without speaking, he stood, and turned back toward the road.

On the way he paused by the handkerchief. “This yours?” he asked Carrie.

“No, it isn’t. I carry paper tissues, and I didn’t see it here last night.” Maybe he’d think she hadn’t heard him when he told her it was smart to leave a hanky to mark the spot.

“Man’s handkerchief,” he said, as he took out a pen, lifted the handkerchief, and dropped it in a bag he’d pulled from his pocket.

As soon as they were back in the Booth’s living room, Shirley appeared from the kitchen. “Everything go okay?”

Norman Cook said, “Looks like Second Man came back and got his bullets, so it didn’t exactly go okay. That avenue of investigation is closed off, though he did drop a handkerchief and I have that.”

“Ah,” Shirley said, glancing at Carrie. “Well, that’s too bad, Norm, but now, who wants coffee and cinnamon rolls?”

“Can’t stay,” the sheriff told her, “much as I regret it. Thanks for the invitation. However, if you happen to have any of those rolls extra . . . ”

“Got a plastic bag, too,” Shirley said, as she disappeared into the kitchen.

“So, what’s next for you, Norm,” Roger asked

“For now, I’ll go along with your plan to keep this woman’s presence here quiet, but remember that, given the parameters you’ve laid out, the sheriff’s department can’t visibly guard her or any of you. If someone involved in this finds out you’re alive, Ms. McCrite, you’ll be in danger again, and once more I’ll say that the rest of you will share the danger. It’s already touched all of you through the craft fair connection, and don’t forget, Edith Embler and Milton Sales are included. As to whether or not there’s someone in our department connected to Arnold Frost and Co., well, I hope not, but right now I can’t assure you of that. You’ve raised some serious questions.

“First thing back at the office, I’m going to check into Ms. Embler’s assertions she’s a confidential source for the DEA. I’ll let you know what I find, but I’ll call from my wife’s unlisted line at home.

“So, Ms. McCrite, for now, you stay out of sight. Your husband shouldn’t be visiting you, and you can’t talk to him on the phone. Create a code for Shirley or Roger to use if the two of you need to communicate. These days, almost no method of communication is safe if someone really wants to break in, and we haven’t much of a clue yet as to how sophisticated these folks are. I do think Martha’s unlisted number is safe enough. Still, Roger or Shirley, keep in mind what you say, even there.”

“I’ll be thinking about a new place to move you, Ms. McCrite. Other than take you to my own home, I don’t know of any yet.”

Shirley stuck her head around the corner. “We have friends up the road, Jason and Eleanor Stack. They’ve been gone, but plan to be back soon. They have no connection to any of this so far. Would Carrie be safer there?”

Both Carrie and Henry shook their heads, and Henry said, “Not fair to involve others.”

The sheriff said “Let me check up on Ms. Embler. Given what I’ve heard, she’s most likely in as much danger now as Ms. McCrite. It would he helpful to find out what papers ‘the boss’ those men talked about thinks she has.”

Henry said, “Since the room was torn up when we came home, it will be safe for me to ask her again what the reason for that search might have been, not mentioning we know they were looking for papers. I can point out the search may prove she’s in danger, because obviously the bad guys think she has—or had—something they want. Maybe she told me she has no idea what they were looking for because she doesn’t trust me yet. I’ll push at her harder now.”

The sheriff nodded and Henry continued, “As an increasingly anxious husband, I can ask tough questions because I think the answers might help us find Carrie.”

“Good. I value your experience and your help. If we learn enough to decide Ms. Embler can be trusted, it might be best to keep the two women together at your house, and well guarded. Let’s see what I come up with. I can always assign Deputy Rosten to some other case if needed, but I really must find a safe deputy or two to help out, and maybe she fits. For now, though, it seems we need you, Roger, along with Shirley, as citizen guards, much as I’d like to relieve you of that duty.”

Carrie said, “I should go home as soon as possible. I don’t want to bring danger to Shirley and Roger.”

Shirley came back in the room in time to say, “Carrie, you’re the one who might be in danger, so hush that talk. Both you and Norm listen to me. Us here make a good team, and we’ve proved it before, but we do want to know if Edie and the deputy are safe with this. We’d sure like to have Henry free to help out, for one thing, and I know he wants to be with Carrie, wherever she stays. So Norm, you go find out about those two women.”

She walked past Henry to hand the sheriff a sack.

“I’ll do the best I can as quickly as I can, Shirley.” He kissed her on the cheek, said, “Thanks,” went to the front door, and was gone, leaving the scent of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls floating behind him.

As soon as they heard the sound of his shoes going down the wooden steps, Shirley said, “Let’s the rest of us sit at the kitchen table. I’ve got more rolls, and we need to make us a plan.”

Chapter Twenty-Five
RED HAIR RULES THE DAY

“Seems to me we pretty much need to leave things like they are ‘til we get more information,” Roger said as Shirley set out the pan of rolls and Carrie dispensed plates and cups of coffee. “So, Henry, you’d best head into town the back way, say a quick howdy to Chief Trent to prove you’ve been there, then go home to your two women.”

“Hey,” Carrie said, “wait a minute. I’m his
only
woman. Those two are house guests, and there better be no monkey business up there.”

She laughed after she said it, and realized the heaviness she’d felt since yesterday was mostly gone. Time to move forward.

Henry reached over and took her hand across the table. “Cara, you are, now and forevermore, my
only
and most special woman, never doubt that. Roger misspoke.”

“Yes, I reckon he did,” Shirley said. “I reckon no male nor female could never come between you’uns.”

“Hmpf,” Roger said, “silly women. They know they have us hog-tied.”

Henry took a bite of roll, chewed, swallowed. “Well, your
woman
does make terrific cinnamon rolls. Maybe she’ll share her recipe with me.”

Carrie said, ignoring the bantering, “I wish we knew whether or not Edie and Olinda are safe, and that’s safe two ways—safe from harm, and safe with the knowledge I’m still alive. I am sorry to be causing all of you this trouble. Having them in with us so I could go home would relieve some of that. Besides, I’d like to be working toward solving our problems. Just sitting here, waiting for Sheriff Cook and others to move things forward is not easy. I want to be accomplishing something.”

“Here’s my idea for a bit of action,” Shirley said. “Let’s fix up some kind of disguise for you, and you can go with me to Jo Marshall’s this afternoon. Maybe someone will be outside at the truck place that you recognize. Anyway, I bet Jo can tell us more about what she’s seen there, and it’s my thought you should hear anything she says first hand. I’m sure she’ll be safe with this. Jo’s no gossip.

“I don’t know about Carrie being out and about,” Henry said.

“I’d like to go, and it’s probably at least as safe as hiding here.”

“I’m not sure,” Henry said. “No one is aware you’re here but us.”

“Well, yes, so far as we know.” Carrie wondered what was really safest for her now, and stared past Roger at the calendar on the kitchen wall. It had a picture of an old mill with vines growing over it, and suddenly she was back at War Eagle Mill, coming out of the restroom booth, seeing Second Man for the first time. For a minute there was a flash of yesterday’s terror. Was it only yesterday? And, had Second Man gotten away yet?

Henry squeezed her hand. “Bad thoughts, Cara?”

“Not so bad. I was thinking about Second Man, wondering where he is now.”

“I’m first, and I’m right here,” he said.

She had started to smile when she noticed how hurt he looked.

The sheriff mentioned the Stockholm Syndrome. Could I really have . . . ? No, that’s nonsense.

She held his hand more tightly. “Yes, Love. I thank God for that every day. And now, we have work to do because, when Arnie and the others are arrested, all of us can go back to normal.”
And by then, Second Man will be away safely.

“Shoot,” Shirley said. “Not normal is more exciting.”

Roger chuckled. “She’s right on that. I go into town now, folks at the feed store and barbershop want to know all about our latest adventures and, if nothing new is going on, then they want to hear a re-do of an old one. Can’t remember how many times I’ve told the story of Van Buren. When this is all over, I’ll have something new to talk about.”

“Reason they don’t get bored at his re-telling is because the story changes every time,” Shirley said. “Who knows what those folks think of our adventures by now.”

“I wondered why people look at me kind of funny when I shop in town,” Carrie said, and was pleased when Shirley and Roger laughed.

Henry didn’t laugh. He was silent for so long that, finally, Carrie said, “What is it?”

“This is not a game or something to entertain people with. It’s serious crime. Drug trafficking is involved. Lives have been and are in danger. One man has died.”

“Oh my,” Shirley said. “We’ve really gone off base. We didn’t mean . . . we don’t want . . . Roger and I both know this is serious. It’s just that . . . ”

Carrie was still holding Henry’s hand. Now she turned it over, and began running a finger around and around on his palm, noticing the lines, a scar, and a spot of stain. The stain was probably from when he re-finished that rickety old table she was fond of. He hadn’t said it should be discarded. He’d repaired and refinished it, presenting it to her proudly only a few days ago.