Rocky Road (12 page)

Sadie heard three rings before the line clicked and a recording came on. “You’ve reached the office of Attorney Kyle Edger. Please leave a message, and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

Sadie hung up. She called it back and listened to the message again. It wouldn’t do any good to leave a message at this point. She didn’t know enough to ask reasonable questions, and an attorney would tell her very little anyway. At best, she’d get just one chance to ask any questions at all, so she had to be smart about the questions she asked. Why would Lori have called an attorney right after receiving that inbound phone call? Wondering what type of law Kyle Edger practiced, Sadie opened up an internet window on her phone and entered his name.

The firm—she wasn’t sure it could be called a firm if it were just one attorney—didn’t have its own website. She eventually found the name on a listing resource for southern Utah attorneys.

“Contract and patent law?” she whispered. Why on earth would Lori need to contact a patent attorney?

“Pine Valley.”

Sadie hadn’t heard Caro approach. She looked up with what must have been a questioning expression that prompted Caro to explain.

“The call Lori received was from the Pine Valley Motel located in a little town about forty-five minutes away.” She nodded toward Sadie’s phone. “Who was your number for?”

“An attorney,” Sadie said. “It just went to voice mail. How long did Lori’s call to that number last again?”

Caro scrolled through her phone and showed Sadie the picture with the duration of the two calls. Twenty-one seconds. “I can’t imagine she spoke to anyone for that short a time,” Sadie said while redialing the number. This time she counted off the seconds it took for the short message to play. She hung up when the beep sounded and met Caro’s eyes. “Eight seconds. She must have left a message, but not a lengthy one.”

Caro nodded her agreement.

“What about that incoming call? Do you know who called Lori from the motel?”

“No,” Caro said with a frown. “And the girl who was working this morning is off for the day—but I did find out that the call was made from the front desk phone rather than one of the rooms. Those would have shown up with a different number. So the front desk girl very likely knows who made that call—it’s not a large motel. I went ahead and booked us a room for tonight so that we could talk to the front desk girl in the morning.”

It took Sadie a moment to realize what Caro had said. “You booked us a room?”

“Sure, isn’t that what you would have done? I remember you telling me once that face-to-face conversations were always more effective than over the phone, and it’s a small town—I bet we can figure out who made that call if we’re there to talk to people, don’t you think?”

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted their discussion, and they turned to see Tess hurrying toward them. “I can’t find Lori anywhere,” she said, sounding annoyed. She looked out the front windows. “Maybe she already went to the church for the luncheon.”

“She’s not going to the luncheon,” Sadie said. “But I caught her before she left.”

“I was going to talk to her.”

“But you didn’t.” Sadie wasn’t concerned with tiptoeing around Tess right now. If Sadie hadn’t acted like she had, none of them would have talked to Lori before she left.

Tess huffed and looked at Caro. “I thought we had an agreement.”

Caro shrugged. “She was leaving, Tess, and you were talking.”

“I happen to know a lot of these people—some of us went through treatment together.”

“I know, but we needed to talk to Lori.”

Tess let out a breath and looked around as though counting to ten in her head. “So, what did she say?”

“She said she’s going back to Vegas right now,” Sadie answered, keeping her voice level. “Only this time she said she had a family emergency. She didn’t say much and seemed really anxious to leave.”

“Did you ask her more questions? Did you tell her the police were involved?”

“Telling her the police are involved didn’t seem important, and she didn’t stick around for many questions. But then Caro got her—”

“I’d have asked her more questions,” Tess cut in. “And she’d have answered me.”

“You were not there,” Sadie snapped. She paused and took a breath before casting a look at Caro. She didn’t like to lose her cool like this, but Tess was pushing all of her buttons. “I’ll wait for you in the car—tell her about the photos you took of Lori’s call logs.”

It was a few minutes before Caro joined Sadie in the car. She’d been waiting long enough that the air conditioner had restored normal temperatures to the car’s interior, and Sadie had cooled down along with the air around her. “I’m sorry for spouting off like that,” she said to Caro. She wanted to justify her actions, but she knew that would make things uncomfortable for Caro. Tess was still Caro’s cousin and her good friend.

“It’s okay. She wasn’t listening to you anyway.”

“Did you talk to her, then? Did she soften up?”

Caro nodded and put on her seat belt while Sadie shifted the car into reverse. “She understands.”

Sadie waited for more information, but when Caro didn’t offer any, Sadie didn’t push. She would do her best to stay out of Tess’s way from here on—hopefully Tess would do the same for her.

They arrived at the church a few minutes later. There were already a dozen cars in the parking lot, and they hurried inside. Nikki sent them both to the kitchen, where everything was being prepped for the buffet. While they were on their way to the kitchen, Tess came in, but she didn’t follow them. It was just as well.

A woman who was already in the kitchen introduced herself as Jean. Sadie introduced herself and wondered if maybe Jean had known Dr. Hendricks. If so, perhaps she would end up giving Sadie information like Lori had in this very kitchen the night before. Unfortunately, Jean said she’d never met the man and turned out to be not much of a talker. After half a dozen attempts to start a conversation and getting only one-word answers, Sadie gave up and went about her work. There were aprons today, and Sadie chose a purple one with “Stand for the Right” embroidered on the front—she felt she could use the motivation. The apron Caro ended up with was bright yellow with bumblebees all over it. Yellow had never been Sadie’s color, but it looked great on Caro. After a few minutes, Nikki came in and asked Caro to help serve.

By the time Caro came back a few minutes later, Sadie had become familiar with the kitchen and where the different dishes of food were set up. “They’ll be saying a blessing on the food in about five minutes, and Nikki wants two pans of funeral potatoes. Can you get that?”

“I’m on it,” Sadie said.

Caro smiled and went back to the gym. Jean was mixing the fruit salad and made no move to help Sadie follow Nikki’s direction, so Sadie was on her own. She didn’t know what funeral potatoes were, but she’d seen four foil-covered 9x13-inch pans in one of the ovens.

“Are these funeral potatoes?” Sadie asked after opening the door of one of the ovens.

Jean looked over her shoulder long enough to nod once before going back to her stirring. Sadie felt it was a bit inappropriate to call the casserole “funeral potatoes,” especially since this wasn’t actually a funeral, but, like the term “cultural hall,” it didn’t seem to bother anyone else. Must be a Mormon thing. She put on a mismatched pair of oven mitts she found in a drawer and removed the first pan and set it on top of the stove. The oven was only keeping the pans warm, so it wasn’t too hot. The potatoes smelled delicious, but when she peeked under the foil it just looked like hash brown casserole to her. Was that crushed cornflakes on top? Sadie removed the other pan from the oven and took the foil from both pans. One seemed to be made with shredded potatoes and one with diced. They smelled wonderful.

A woman came in with two cakes—one with chocolate frosting in a 9x13-inch pan and the other in a clear pie dish. On the second dessert, Sadie could see a layer of crust, then one of cream cheese, with strawberries on top. She made a mental note to get herself a piece of that one if she had the chance—amid all the back and forth to the police station, there hadn’t been any time for lunch today. In Sadie’s prior community involvement there always seemed to be an unwritten rule that helpers were entitled to a sampling of whatever was being served, as long as they were discreet about it. Sadie was the pinnacle of discreet. Well, most of the time.

“Should I just set these here?” the woman asked, indicating a portion of counter where other desserts had been laid out.

“That would be great,” Sadie said with a smile.

The woman set down the desserts and then pulled a stack of papers out of her pocket. “The last time Lillian made the Strawberry Pretzel Pie everyone wanted the recipe, so she sent some copies with it this time. I’ll just set them right here so anyone who asks about it can help themselves.”

Sadie thanked her, and the women disappeared. Sadie looked at the stack of recipes. What a brilliant idea to bring the recipe already printed up. Some women were so efficient. If the dessert tasted half as good as it looked, Sadie couldn’t wait to give it a try. Right now, however, she needed to get the potatoes out there. She’d be sure to grab the recipe later. Jean had moved on to mixing the other fruit salad, content to take her time and focus on just that one thing. No matter. Sadie had this.

Sadie took the pans to the serving table in the gym, a little bothered by the cheap plastic tablecloths on the serving table. She could see crayon marks on the tabletop underneath. Fabric would look much better, but then if people were serving themselves—which she assumed they were since the food was set up on both sides of the table—it could be rather messy. She didn’t think even Mormons had someone who specifically served as the congregational laundress.

There were nearly forty people in the room when she laid the serving spoons beside the pans. She noticed Tess talking to Dr. Hendricks’s parents near the double doors that had been propped open. Despite her conflicted feelings toward the younger woman, Sadie hoped Tess had success with her part of the plan. Sadie went back to the kitchen for the first bowl of fruit salad just as someone stepped forward to say a prayer. The third prayer of the day, she noted.

For the next forty minutes, Sadie stayed busy changing full pans for empty ones and cleaning up spills people made on the table while serving themselves at the buffet. Caro and Nikki were in and out quite a bit as well. Tess kept her distance, staying mostly in the gym. Sadie saw her talking to a variety of different people.

During a lull in serving, Sadie sneaked a portion of funeral potatoes when one of the pans came back with just enough for one serving left in the corner. It was delicious, and she would swear it hadn’t been made with canned soup like many hash brown casseroles were. She tried to discuss the topic with Jean and ask her if everyone used the same recipe or made their own version, but even something with the name of funeral potatoes couldn’t interest the woman in conversation. Instead, Jean washed dishes, slowly and methodically, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. In Sadie’s mind, Jean got points for serving, but not for being fun to work with.

Jean had to leave at 4:15. Sadie didn’t miss her when she left. The luncheon activity had died down, and Sadie’s thoughts were moving forward. To Pine Valley. To learning who had called Lori and changed everything.

The tap of high heels on linoleum pulled her from her thoughts, and Sadie turned with a soapy bowl in hand to find Anita Hendricks coming toward her across the kitchen.

“Oh, hi,” Sadie said, tightening her grip on the bowl as her earlier opinions of this woman leapt to the forefront of her mind. Sadie had to remind herself that since she’d never actually met Anita, it wasn’t fair to make judgments about her character, but the campaign-style speech at the service couldn’t be ignored, either.

“Hi,” Anita said with a warm smile. She took a few more steps into the room and twisted the wedding ring on her left hand with the thin fingers of her other hand. The ring was lovely, with a large princess-cut diamond in the center and several smaller diamonds in graduated sizes spreading from the center stone on both sides. Sadie wondered if Anita would take it off now that the memorial service was over, or if, like Sadie had when Neil died, she would find her hand uncomfortable without it and wear it a few years longer.

“I wanted to personally thank you for your help this afternoon. The whole thing has been just lovely.” She waved toward the gym and then put her hand out to shake Sadie’s. Sadie hurried to put the bowl back in the sink and dried her hands on her apron as she crossed the distance between them. She tried to read Anita’s tone of voice or the words she had just spoken, but she couldn’t find anything dubious. Anita had a firm handshake, something else Sadie couldn’t criticize.

“I can’t take much credit,” Sadie said. “All I did was keep cold things cold and hot things hot.”

“Well, I know it takes a lot of people to pull off something like this, and it was very kind of you to be a part of it. I’m not a member of your church, and yet you have all been so thoughtful. I really do appreciate it.”