Music to Die For (13 page)

The words sounded stiff and formal, but it was too late to call them back or substitute the softer phrase, “I’m glad you care,” which was how she’d answered him inside her head.

“My scraped face is part of the whole story, so I’ll fit it in at the right place, but, first things first. Here comes the waitress. I can recommend several things...”

After they’d ordered, specifying separate checks, Henry leaned forward in his chair. “I’m listening,” he said.

Speaking as quickly as she could, she began telling him everything that had happened since the time—was it only yesterday afternoon?—when she had seen the woman in the woods. Henry’s face remained almost expressionless as he listened, but the familiar line between his widely spaced brown eyes deepened as she got to the part about the murder of Farel Teal and the probable second kidnapping. She described everything she’d noticed in the dressmaker’s shop, hoping she was doing a good job, hoping he would now know how carefully she had listened to his advice about observing and remembering. Surely his years of experience in the criminal investigation division of the Kansas City Police Department would help bring some enlightenment to this terrible mess.

He held up a hand. “Tell me what you thought when you looked at those scissors and the wound.”

Ahhh.
She waited a minute before answering, not because she had no opinion, but because she was savoring the awareness that he wasn’t treating her like a squeamish female who must be protected from thinking about such dreadful details.

“The scissors aren’t what killed Farel Teal.”

“I agree. Knife, maybe. Very sharp, wide, double-edged blade. But why the substitution?”

She shook her head, warning him as the waitress came to put bowls of bean soup and a plate of cornbread on the table, and walked away. Carrie pushed the dishes of Peach and Apple Chunky nearer his plate and said, “Because the knife, maybe even the fact a knife was used, could help identify the killer. I’m sure I know where the knife came from, and you’ll see why in a minute.” She returned to her recitation, pausing at intervals to take bites of food and see if Henry had questions. But he was silent, listening while he ate.

After she had described Farel’s house, the knife display case and its contents, the fire, the rush back to the car and to town, Henry said, “I wish I had been with you, Cara.”

She smiled up at him, and then began to speak more slowly, choosing words carefully.

“Henry, something is really bothering me. I thought in the beginning that, because she’s so tiny, and he was so big and strong, there was no way Tracy could have stabbed Farel from the front.”

He nodded. “He’d have seen her coming at him, and if he’s tall, she’d need to reach up, making her movements even more evident.”

“Well, what about throwing the knife?”

“Throwing...?”

She told Henry about Bobby Lee and what he’d said, then waited.

“Hmm, I suppose it would be possible. If the knife hit him just right, it could kill. Even a good, forceful thrower would have to be lucky for the blow to hit like that, missing the ribs. But, the motive?”

“I don’t know, but if it was about Dulcey...oh, glory, Henry, I hate to think of it.”

He frowned. “I know.” He tilted his bowl to finish the last bite. “Where are the Masons now?”

She returned to her story, ending with an explanation of what was going on at Brigid’s house and why there was a need to get Tracy and Chase away from the public eye. Then she took a deep breath and rushed on, telling him her plan for concealing the young couple over the weekend.

When she had finished, Henry sat quietly for a moment, then said, “Fine, good idea. Dessert?”

“Not for me. Eating cornbread drowned in sweet peaches is plenty. But, there’s berry cobbler...”

When Henry had ordered blackberry cobbler with ice cream, Carrie spoke again, “Of course Eleanor could move in with me, and you and Jason could room together, but I think it would be best if both a man and woman were close to Chase and Tracy most of the time. Jason and Eleanor can stay with them and see if they say anything that puts light on this mess while you and I try to locate Dulcey. Henry, we
must
find her, that’s the important thing, no matter who killed Farel. Or, do you think Chase and Tracy should just pay the ransom, if that’s what the kidnappers want, and get Dulcey back that way?”

“Sometimes that works. Sometimes it doesn’t. If the parents seem willing to pay once, why not twice... or more? It’s always a gamble, a gamble with a child’s life. And you should have told the sheriff—you know that. Surely you don’t think we can save that child by ourselves?”

“I wanted to call in the sheriff, but the Masons wouldn’t allow it, and I really can’t blame them. Besides, you and I don’t know anything about law enforcement in this county. How sophisticated are they, how would they handle something as delicate as this? And we have special advantages the sheriff could never have, especially for approaching the Culpepers. I’m a pudgy, innocent-looking older woman whose name just happens to be Culpeper. The way you’ll be dressed will help you fit in too, and no Culpeper here except Margaret has ever seen either of us.”

He answered slowly, thinking aloud. “Umm. We won’t look at all like the law, and that woman’s name is Culpeper...”

“Yes. We’ll find where the Culpepers live and talk with Margaret. Remember what the Masons told me? Law enforcement won’t go near them. We can. I want to learn the meaning of that strange story about a beast taking a child.”

She smiled up at him. “Henry, I feel just like you do. I don’t want
you
hurt either, but it seems to me that the two of us, looking like what we are, plain folks, will be perfectly safe.”

“Hmmm... yes.”

She knew she was winning him over. He was looking at her thoughtfully and had reached out to put his hand over hers when a pair of voices said, “Hi,” in unison.

“Thought we’d find you two together where the food is,” said Jason Stack as he dropped into the chair across from Henry, and Eleanor came around to accept Carrie’s hug.

“You’re early,” Carrie said. “We weren’t expecting you until later this afternoon. I’m glad you’re here, though. Have you eaten?”

Eleanor nodded. “I wanted to stop over in Eureka Springs, so we decided to leave a day early and spend last night there. It’s a good place to shop for the grandchildren’s birthdays. There’s this little store on Spring Street where they sell handmade wooden toys, and...”

“Yes, yes,” interrupted Jason. “We came, we shopped, we left. Eleanor went shopping first thing this morning, and it took her, praise the Lord, less time than I thought. That’s why we’re early. We’ve eaten, but from the looks of the leftovers, or lack of them, I wish we’d waited.”

“Hate to tell you,” Carrie said, “but they sell lots of wonderful toys here in the craft area, as well as at the gift shop next to it. You can even watch toys being made. Maybe you’ll want to stock up for Christmas now.

“But, I’m glad you’re early, and I hope you’re in the mood for adventure. Quite a bit has happened here. A man has been murdered, a child has been kidnapped, and all four of us are in a position to be of real help.”

“My word,” Jason said, “you’re at it again. Maybe those books Eleanor reads aren’t so far-fetched. Whoever said retirement was supposed to be dull didn’t have a friend like Carrie McCrite. Think I’ll write a book myself,
Carrie McCrite, Senior Detective
, or...”

“Stop it, Jason,” Eleanor said. “You’re babbling, and I’m sure this is not a joking matter.” She turned to Carrie. “So, how are we going to help? We’re listening.
Both
of us are listening.”

So Carrie began her story again, a shortened version this time. She finished by telling them about the need to hide Chase and Tracy.

“But our plan for that won’t work without you,

as you’ll soon see.”

“Of course we’ll help,” Eleanor said, sounding eager. “This is awful, those poor children, and their little girl. So, what’s the plan?”

“The room reserved for Henry is right next to yours in a duplex cabin, with locking doors between. All the rooms have two beds. So, I thought we could put the Masons in Henry’s room, calling them Mr. and Mrs. Henry King. That way you two can get to know them, talk with them, bring in food, and so on. Henry will share my room.”

Jason smirked and opened his mouth to say something, but Eleanor put her hand on his arm and said, “Splendid. So how do we get them here?”

Carrie gave a bare outline of her plan, and after Eleanor and Jason had agreed to their part, said, “Let’s meet in my room after you check in. I’ll call Brigid Mason and make arrangements with her. Go ahead and check in under your own name, but sign up for Mr. and Mrs. Henry King too. You might tell the people at the desk they’re your newly wed daughter and son-in-law who will be joining you here this evening. Get their key too. We’ll have to be sure the housekeeping staff doesn’t go in the room while Chase and Tracy are there, and I thought saying they’re newlyweds would make that seem less unusual. We can straighten the charges out later. I’m sure the Masons will pay their part. Henry will check in as Herman Culpeper.”

“Not McCrite?” said Jason, winking towards Henry.

“No, there’s a family here named Culpeper that may be involved with the kidnapping. The woman I saw in the woods is one of them. Since my maiden name is Culpeper I can assume a family relationship, say I’m Carrie Culpeper McCrite, a widow, and this is my brother, Herman. The two of us will call on the Mountain View Culpepers this afternoon while you pick up Chase and Tracy and see what we can find out.

“So, shall we get started? Come to my room, number 149, as soon as you’ve checked in and unloaded your things. Turn right at the shed with pop machines in it. And... thanks, both of you. You can still back out if you want. Some parts of this might be unpleasant, or even a little dangerous. You could miss some of your classes too.”

“They’ll have them again next year,” said Jason. “Now, let’s get busy and see if we can help save that little girl.”

As she and Henry came down the path toward her motel room, Carrie could see a white card stuck in the door. She pulled it loose and read the name, “Ryerson T. Wylie, Sheriff.” In red ink, a note on the back instructed her to call Sheriff Wylie’s office immediately.

She handed the card to Henry and said, “I can’t talk to the man now. I’d have to lie, and I’m not sure I should do that—lying to a sheriff. It could get me in trouble, couldn’t it? And what if he sees you, asks your name, wants to look at your driver’s license or something? What am I going to do?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Henry said. “You don’t need to call right away. He’s got enough to keep him busy for the present. I am wondering if he understood the significance of that wound and what he’s discovered since then. Are you sure he doesn’t know the Mason child has been kidnapped?”

“If he does, he’s being quiet about it, which is good. But I don’t see how he could possibly know unless Bobby Lee rushed to tell him after our talk this morning. I don’t think Bobby Lee knew it until I told him. I think he was honestly shocked, but Bobby Lee Logan is very good at lying, especially to outsiders like me. Oh, Henry, I’m confused. I don’t really know who is telling the truth about anything, including Chase, Tracy, and Aunt Brigid.”

“So we’ll act on the facts we can confirm,” he said. “First thing to do is call the Masons and work out your plans with Brigid before Eleanor and Jason get here. While you’re doing that, I’ll check in and bring my things from the car.

“Carrie, I do have my gun. After you called last night, I thought...” He didn’t finish. Instead he turned and headed down the path toward the parking lot.

She stood still, looking at Henry’s back as he walked away. He had only carried a handgun once since leaving police work, and that had been to protect her and his daughter, Susan. Refusal to carry a gun was one reason Henry had left the Kansas City Police Department. It began with one more teenager high on drugs. The boy had a gun and was robbing a convenience store near Henry’s home. Henry, just off duty, was coming in the store to pay for gas.

He heard shots and saw the cashier, a man he knew well, fall behind the counter. Yelling obscenities, the teenager had turned his gun toward Henry, but Henry shot first.

“The kid died right there, and I still can’t remember whether or not I shot to kill,” he had told Carrie.

A week after that, Henry went to see the dead boy’s mother. He wouldn’t talk about what had happened during that visit, but Carrie knew he stopped carrying his gun then. Three months after the visit, he resigned from the police department.

Six months later his wife, Irena, the only child of a wealthy Kansas City family, left him. Being the wife of a police detective had earned sympathy and attention from her family and friends throughout their marriage. Henry said that when he quit police work, Irena lost her only reason for staying married to him.

Just last November he had confided to Carrie, “She could no longer say, ‘my husband, Police Major Henry King,’ at social events. She has plenty of her own money. I guess being married to an ex-police officer who was selling real estate didn’t interest her at all.”

Carrie sighed, turned away from the door, and went to the telephone. She was sorry for Henry, but glad Irena had left him after twenty-five years of an unhappy and childless marriage. And she was very glad that Henry’s search for the daughter he’d never seen, born after a brief encounter with a woman he’d met at adult night school, had brought him to the Ozarks.

Brigid Mason’s line was busy, but when Carrie dialed a second time, the phone rang. A strange voice answered. “Ah-low?”

“May I speak to Brigid Mason, please?”

“Is no spik angless. Is bad nuumbeer.”

“Tell her Carrie Culpeper. Please.”

“Ah.”

There was a short silence, then Brigid’s voice said, “Carrie? Whew! We’re tryin’ to fool callers. This gets more worrisome by the minit.”