A Fair to Die For (7 page)

“When did
she
get here?” Carrie whispered.

“Came in just after you called. She’s explained her disappearance. Two men who sound like Agent Frost and his companion were at the motel when she arrived. For yet unknown reasons your cousin is aware someone, perhaps FBI, might be trying to find her.

“When she looked through the glass entry area of the motel and saw two men in dark suits at the desk, one of them holding out a leather pocket folder, she decided to go back to her car and wait. Eventually they came out and got back in their car. When they didn’t drive away, she used her cell phone to call the motel, saying she had an emergency and needed to cancel her reservation. They allowed that, and even sounded relieved, she thought, so that made her certain the men had been asking about her and they were glad to avoid potential trouble. Pretty soon someone came out of the motel lobby and went to the car to talk with the men. After that they drove off.

“Edie went to another motel and registered under a similar, but false name, paying cash. She figured, probably correctly, that the men had the ability to check motel registrations. When the desk clerk asked for identification, she flashed her driver’s license, and they glanced at her photo, but didn’t catch the different name. After I told her two men from the FBI had been here asking for her, she agreed the best thing, at least for tonight, was for her to stay here.”

“Why didn’t she let us know she’d had to change motels?”

“Not sure of our loyalties. Came here this evening as a last resort.”

“Oh, for gosh sake. And what if those men come back? Are we now
hiding
her?”

“I hope we don’t have to deal with that before tomorrow morning, if at all.”

“None of us will be here tomorrow.”

“Exactly. I thought Edie could go to the shop with me, if nothing else works out.”

“Go where?” Edie said, as she walked into the room.

After Henry explained, Carrie asked, “How do you know Milton Sales?”

“Ah.”

“I suggest you bring us fully into the picture right now,” Henry said. “We are sheltering you, and have a right to know what’s really behind your visit here.”

Since she hadn’t told him about the afternoon’s events, and he hadn’t yet heard the name Milton Sales, Carrie was surprised and pleased when Henry picked up on her train of thought immediately. His manner remained friendly, but there was steel behind the request for information. She wondered if Edie understood that steel. Henry, when he took on his cop manner, could be intimidating. He wasn’t quite there yet, but might be very quickly.

Did anything intimidate Cousin Edie? Carrie hoped so, because this whole situation was unsettling, if not scary, and Edie had involved them more deeply the minute she returned to their home this evening.

Probably all this evening’s friendly behavior from Henry was by intent, getting Edie to let her guard down. Is she frightened of those two men? Of Milton Sales? Of something or someone else?

Carrie settled comfortably against Henry’s side and awaited Edie’s response.

Chapter Seven
LEARNING MORE

Edie sat in Henry’s favorite chair and, head down, she was silent for a long minute before she said, “Milton Sales was a much younger colleague of my father’s.”

When she said no more, Carrie prodded. “So you knew him years ago?”

“No. I didn’t know him. But, back when Daddy disappeared and Mother and I were asking a lot of questions at his office about what might have happened, a woman there mentioned the name, and said she thought he had been working with Daddy at the time he disappeared. The three of us were alone when she said that, and after someone walked in the room, she quit talking. No one else acknowledged knowing anything about Daddy’s colleagues, and we never located Milton Sales. But I didn’t forget his name.”

Henry asked, “Where did your father work?”

“It was called ‘Torrance Export-Import,’ but I have always thought the name was a cover for something else.”

“What made you think that?”

“Doesn’t export-import indicate the business is dealing with products; something coming and going? Toys, art, antiques, machine parts, whatever? Surely there would be some evidence of things to be sold. The office had a warehouse attached, and the warehouse had boxes. I managed to trip over one once, and I’m sure it was empty. Daddy never, ever, mentioned any kind of merchandise, and never brought samples home. He had no sales books or catalogues. After he died we were given all the stuff from his desk, or at least all they wanted us to have. Nothing there about exporting or importing. ”

Carrie said, “You obviously learned more about Milton Sales later.”

Edie nodded. “I did. Last winter, when I realized how badly Mother wanted closure for Daddy’s disappearance, I tried to find that office. Not even the building was still there, and I didn’t find the business name in the phone book or online. Then I phoned every export-import company I could locate.” She snorted an attempt at a laugh. “Believe me, there were a lot of them. No one had ever heard of the Torrance Company. A woman in one company, however, did recognize the name Milton Sales. She said he was a sales manager with their firm for around twenty years, but had taken early retirement at least a dozen years earlier. He told her he was moving to Arkansas because he’d found a place he could sell the wooden toys and other products he had enjoyed creating as a hobby.

“That’s when I remembered a wooden book rack Daddy had on his desk at home. It’s beautifully made from three colors of wood. I wondered if Milton made it for him. He did. It was signed on the bottom.”

So, Carrie thought, finding Milton Sales, not finding a cousin, is the reason Edie came here.
She bit her lip to keep from saying anything she might regret, and hoped Henry would fill the conversation gap.

He did. “You’ve known much more about this area than you admitted.” The steel was in evidence now.

Again there was silence before Edie responded. “Yes.”

Carrie stopped biting her lip. “You used me, used us. You lied to us,” she said, not sure whether disappointment or anger was causing tears to spill down her cheeks.

I never used to cry when I was married to Amos. I didn’t cry when I lived alone. Now, people would probably say I had PMS or was headed into menopause. But, no excuses there. All that stuff was finished long ago.

Then, why the tears now? Why?

Could being in a loving partnership with Henry have something to do with this?
She stared at the ceiling, distracted, not by her cousin’s duplicity, but by an awakening realization.
For the first time, someone loves me fully, just as me. Not as a mom, not as a daughter, he loves me just because I’m me.

Did my parents love me? Yes, I know they did, but they weren’t demonstrative. And I think, as teachers, they sometimes saw me as an experiment in child rearing.

Amos? Well, of course, our marriage was a business arrangement. He needed a presentable, intelligent wife and hostess, and I wanted my own home and a child. We each got what we bargained for.

But now?
Her tears began flowing more freely, if still silently.

Now there is Henry, and our beautiful, incredible, shared love.

Satisfied, and a bit overwhelmed by her thoughts, she sat in silence, and when Edie finally said “Yes, I did,” it took her a minute to remember what her cousin was responding to.

Henry said, “No one likes being used. You’re smart enough to understand that. I suppose you knew more about War Eagle than you let on. A simple Internet search?

“Yes”

And finding out about Carrie? The same? You lied about the library?”

“Yes.” When Carrie finally looked up at her cousin, tears were streaming down her cheeks, too.

Edie pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose, covering Carrie’s own mop and blow. The two women stared at each other, then, suddenly, both of them began laughing.

“What a mess, huh?” Carrie said, when she could get the words out, and Edie nodded, retrieving another tissue to wipe her eyes.

Henry stared from one to the other, then said, “I don’t see what’s funny about any of this.”

Carrie said, “Nothing, but our duplicate reaction is. Never mind, love, it isn’t something that needs to be understood. Put it down to one of those mysterious female things. Please continue.”

Henry shook his head, and, briefly, smiled at her. But in a second the steel re-appeared, and he asked “What about Carrie? May I assume you really are her cousin?”

“That part is true.”

“So—you came to Arkansas to find Milton Sales.”

“The woman who remembered he was moving to Arkansas also remembered the name War Eagle, and you’re right. A simple Internet search, and I had the information I needed. Mother truly was eager to have me look you up, Carrie, but in a sense, I did use you. The fact you live so close to War Eagle Mill was fortuitous. But, don’t you see, I didn’t have to look you up to locate Milton Sales? I ended up finding the mill and War Eagle Craft Fair on my own. Of course I didn’t know if Sales would be at the fair, but you couldn’t have helped me with that anyway.”

“Okay,” Henry said. “Now, what about those two men who’re looking for you? What’s that all about?”

“I haven’t a clue, but they frighten me. If my father really was doing something illegal, maybe they think I know about it and can give them information. Well, so far, I can’t. Or maybe they know all about Daddy’s activities and want it kept quiet, or . . . well, I don’t know. Like I say, it’s frightening. And I certainly want to know more about them before I meet them face-to-face.” She paused for a moment before she said, “I’m wondering if they really are from the FBI.”

Carrie said, “The one who called himself Arnie Frost flashed a badge, but that’s exactly what he did, flashed it. I couldn’t tell you now if it was really from the FBI. I should have looked more closely.”

“People don’t,” Edie said. “I was pretty sure I could get away with using a false name, even if motel clerks asked to see photo identification. E. D. Fingler was one name I used. I hoped it was enough change, and anyone searching for me wouldn’t notice. If it sounded like a man, so much the better. I only stayed at each motel one night, just in case. I also changed rental cars, as you saw.”

Henry said, “And Milton Sales? What about him?”

“Of course it was a gamble that he was still using that name, and that he’d be at the fair. When you get there they give you a book that includes the names of exhibitors, what they make, and their booth location. He was listed. After that it was easy.”

“Did he talk to you?” Carrie asked.

“I think he would have, but that’s where my luck ran out. I told him who I was, and said I hoped to learn more about my father’s disappearance so my mother could find peace in her old age. I did kind of dramatize that part. I asked if we could talk after the close of the fair that day, or at some other time convenient to him. He said he had his RV parked on the grounds and would meet me there around 1:00 when he went to get his lunch. He had just begun to describe the RV when I saw you. I didn’t want you to complicate things or scare Sales off, so I got away as quickly as I could. When I went to the RV at 1:00 no one answered my knocks. I went back several times, but he never answered the door. I only checked his booth once after that. He wasn’t there, but I didn’t return. I didn’t want to risk being seen there again.”

Carrie nodded, and said, “I talked to the man briefly after you disappeared, Edie, but he didn’t acknowledge knowing who you were when I asked. I guess it’s possible my question spooked him, though I thought I mentioned you quite casually while I was buying something from his display. I saw him leave for the RV not long after. I did check at his display a couple of times this afternoon, but he wasn’t there. According to his neighbor, he came and went the rest of the day, but that was standard procedure. The man said he was always restless.”

She turned to her husband. “Henry, is there any way we can verify that those guys looking for Edie were really from the FBI? I know you don’t want to rock any boats, but it would sure be helpful if we knew.”

“I’ll call Ray in the morning, but I won’t press him to do an extensive search.”

Carrie explained, “That’s a friend of his, a deputy police chief in Kansas City.”

Edie nodded, then yawned. “Excuse me. I haven’t been sleeping too well these last few nights.”

“You go on to bed. We’ll make plans in the morning. I’m heading for bed myself. It was a long day at the fair.”

Henry got up too. “One more thing, Edie. I think we should put your car in the garage and leave my truck in the driveway. That’s in case anyone gets curious about a strange car here.”

When he came in the bedroom, Carrie went to the hall and locked the door separating their area from the rest of the house. That also blocked Edie’s access to the garage, but, with Henry’s truck parked behind her car, if she ran away this time, it would be on foot.

Henry noticed what she was doing, but said nothing as he took her in his arms for a very comforting hug. Relaxing into his warmth reminded her of the first hug they’d shared.

They’d barely known each other back then. He’d come to her door, knowing that, minutes earlier, she’d discovered her best friend’s body in the woods. He said only “You found her,” and held out his arms. She’d gone to him, and—for the first time in adult memory—Carrie Culpeper McCrite had cried, making big wet spots on the front of Henry’s jacket.

But now, nearly two years later, she didn’t cry. She shut her eyes and smiled.

The bedroom phone rang at 4:15.

It was on Carrie’s side of the bed, and she’d never lost the concerned mother’s ability to respond quickly to nighttime phone calls, so she said a clear and wide-awake sounding “Hello.”

“Carrie,” Jason said, “I’m sorry to bother you so early, but Patricia phoned us awhile ago and told us Randy had been in a car crash when he was driving home from work.”

“Oh, Jason! How is he?”