Authors: Radine Trees Nehring
“I’m sorry, Roger. It’s just that . . . ”
He stopped when Roger put a hand on his arm and said, “Come on now, she’s waiting for you down the hall.”
Henry couldn’t figure it out. Suddenly he felt as shy as a kid on his first date.
She’s alive. She’s safe. But what will I say to her?
Carrie was sitting at a desk with an empty plate in front of her. She did look battered, and in spite of Roger’s warning, Henry had to muster all his remembered policeman’s stoicism to suppress an exclamation. There were greenish bruises beginning to darken on her face, and her cheek was swollen. Shirley’s pajamas, rolled up at the bottom and sleeves, must hide other damage.
She started to stand, but he hurried across the room and almost fell against her as he knelt by the desk chair.
Neither of them said anything. He looked up at her and then, for the first time in memory, Henry King began to cry, while Carrie stroked her hand across his hair, over and over.
After a couple of minutes Shirley said, “Well, this is sure some happy reunion, what with everybody getting all weepy. Gosh almighty, you’d think you two had been separated for weeks instead of a day. Come on, Henry, say a few nice words, kiss her goodnight, then go in the bathroom and put cold water on your face. You’ve seen she’s okay, and you’ve got two hungry mouths to feed waitin’ at home. Can’t be gone long.”
Henry stood, said “Olinda came home with us, like a guard or something. She’ll be there all night.” Then he choked to a stop and turned away. When he turned back, he bent to kiss Carrie on top of her head, since he didn’t know if he dared touch her face.
Carrie said, “Goodnight, Henry love. We’ll make plans tomorrow. I assume Roger explained how things stand. Right now I don’t know who we can trust with the knowledge that I’m alive and well. Who can keep the information to themselves and help save the man who saved me?
“Therefore, we need to consult and make plans. Maybe you can tell Olinda and Edie you’ve got an already scheduled morning meeting with the mayor or police chief in town, or somebody really important, but you’ll have your cell phone with you. If any news comes in, they can call you. Don’t forget to show how worried you are.” She grinned. “Or at least you’d
better
be worried. If you can manage to get away in the morning, drive down here.
“I could use some fresh clothing. Put clean jeans, several pair of underpants, a bra, socks, the blue sweatshirt, matching turtleneck and jacket, and my flannel nightgown in a sack, and bring them with you. I keep basic make-up supplies in the travel case in my closet, so please bring that, too. Since your truck will be in the garage, they won’t see you put that stuff in it. If there’s a hitch, just call here in the morning and say you can’t make whatever meeting you’ve told them you were scheduled for.
“Sorry you can’t stay, but, as you can see, there’s only a twin bed.” She laughed, and blew him a kiss. “Oh, I forgot. Stick my wooly house slippers in the sack.”
She stopped talking, but her wonderful teal-blue eyes said enough, and Henry was comforted. She really was going to be all right.
He swallowed all comments and questions and walked out of the room after one last, long look at her. In less than five minutes he’d put the picnic basket on the seat beside him in the truck, and was headed back up the hill.
“Here ‘tiz,” he said when he walked in the kitchen with the basket. He sat it down on the counter and let Olinda and Edie survey the contents, oohing and ahhing as they lifted out a plate with three pieces of apple pie, a large bowl of potato salad, and what looked like a complete fried chicken. The veggie sticks and drinks were already on the table, so they sat down to eat without wasting time.
“Did you get to see the calves?” Edie asked.
“No. They weren’t born yet.”
“Maybe we’ll get to see them later. I hope so.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, thinking his own thoughts. He hoped his distraction would be put down to concern for Carrie.
“Detective Burke called,” Olinda said. “It isn’t an expert opinion yet, but it seems increasingly clear that John Harley did not cut his own wrists. There were no trial cuts like one usually sees on a suicide, and both cuts were made from the inside out. Unusual, since the common way would be to slit one wrist, then change the razor to the other hand and cut the second, making the cuts initiate from the outside in each case.” She illustrated with her dinner knife, holding each wrist, palm up, in turn. “See. You have to do some almost impossibly awkward twisting if you cut from the inside out. Why would he do that? Also, there’s a mark on the back of his head, which may have been caused when he was put in the tub by someone.” She shook her head once, and looked down at her plate.
“Hmmm,” Henry said, still thinking about Carrie.
“I can tell you’re dead tired,” Olinda said. “You go on to bed as soon as we finish eating. Edie and I will clean up. Do you have a household alarm system that needs to be set?”
“No alarm system,” he said.
“Well, then be sure the doors and windows are secure before you go to your room, since Edie and I wouldn’t know where to check. We’ll leave the guestroom door open so we can hear any unusual noises during the night. Is there a phone in your bedroom?”
“Yes, and in the guestroom.”
“Good. If there’s any news, we’ll all hear the phone ring. You go on now. We’ll see you in the morning.
“Oh, yes. We found cereal in the cupboard. We can have that for breakfast, don’t need anything fancy.”
So, after checking the house and saying “goodnight,” he left them cleaning up in the kitchen, went into the master bedroom area, and shut the door.
Henry awakened at 5:30, and realized with consternation that he had slept soundly through the night.
He had expected to be awake, puzzling over what Carrie would reveal about yesterday’s events, and wondering if she truly had to play dead for some unknown amount of time. Sleeping soundly seemed disloyal to her.
But then, he knew she was safe, and that had obviously been enough, no matter what tough times might still face them.
Okay, new problem.
How would he tackle the need to be away part of the morning? Would a fictitious meeting with someone important sound reasonable, when concern for his wife should be the most important thing? Maybe he could say he was going to talk with the police chief in town and bring him up to date on current events. Olinda, at least, knew city police wouldn’t normally be investigating out here in the county, but maybe his feeling that the nearest police force should be brought into the picture would sound convincing to her. On the other hand, would it sound so convincing she’d want to go with him?
He sure wished he knew who could be trusted with information about Carrie.
The phone rang. He slid to the side of the bed, reached out to pick up the receiver, and heard Edie’s voice, then Milton’s. Not wanting them to think he was listening in, he said a quick “Hello, see you got it, Edie,” and hung up.
So Milton probably hadn’t spent the night in the county jail. It would be nice if he came and got Edie out of the way for the day, and Olinda went back to duty anywhere else but here. Might happen. Who knew?
Then he came back to earth on the realization that Edie probably wasn’t safe yet. Going off alone with Milton would be the height of foolishness.
Almost as foolish as going to the mill yesterday and not being alert to potential danger.
He sighed. Time to tackle today.
Olinda and Edie were finishing bowls of cereal when he walked into the kitchen. “Smells like you found the coffee,” he said. “Sorry, I forgot to get it out for you.”
“No problem,” Olinda said, “by now we know the contents of your kitchen pretty well.” She was studying him as she continued, “I didn’t hear the phone during the night, so I guess you didn’t get any news about or from Carrie?”
He shook his head, and remembered to look and act frantically concerned.
Still studying his face, she went on, “I checked in at the department this morning, and none of the deputies had any updated information. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t get any news,” he said. “I didn’t make any calls out—didn’t know anyone to call who could help us beyond those already doing so, and you know the phone didn’t ring until Milton called this morning. Is he okay, Edie? I guess he didn’t end up in jail.”
“No, though deputies did pretend to take him in for questioning yesterday. He said he plans to spend today talking to the organizers of the War Eagle Fair, and those who run other fairs as well. He wants to tell them about our updated suspicions. That hasn’t been done so far, partly because past investigations didn’t turn up any organizers who were involved in activities that seemed remotely suspicious. Besides, no one knew enough to warn them about specific individuals or types of crafts that might be suspect until Shirley discovered the contents of that pull-toy cow, and we realized John Harley could be hiding drugs in bird houses. Now, the idea is to enlist them to help us in the future.
“He also plans to ask if they might, by chance, have observed something at this year’s fairs that will help us.”
Henry nodded. “Sounds good.”
He wished Olinda would stop looking at him so intently. He stared back at her while he said, “I need to keep busy or I’ll go nuts with worry. I think I’ll head for town and talk to the police chief. I’ll bring him up-to-date on this. You never know.”
“Good idea,” Olinda said, finally ending her intense stare, “but eat something first. I’m still assigned to you and Edie, so I’ll be here if news comes in about Carrie, or we learn more about the people who abducted her. They are, we assume, connected to our drug case. I should phone the Sheriff, give him an update, and tell him about your plan. It would be smart to let him know you’re going into town and get his okay.”
“Don’t bother about that,” Henry said. “I’ll have my cell phone with me, and I’ll go straight to the police department. I plan to drive Carrie’s car, since it’s less recognizable. I promise to lock the doors and keep my eyes open.”
He tried a half smile, since she was staring at him that funny way again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
SOMEONE NEW STEPS IN
Henry was startled to see what looked like the county sheriff’s unmarked car parked in front of the Booth’s porch. He pulled up beside it and rushed toward the door. Why would someone so high in law enforcement need to be here now?
It took a couple of minutes for Shirley to answer his knock, and Henry immediately heard an unfamiliar male voice say, “Good. Now tell us . . . ,” then lapse into silence when Henry walked in the room.
Initially he had eyes only for his wife. She looked okay, and was smiling at him.
Thank God!
He put down her make-up case and the sack of clothing and went to kiss her on the top of the head before he turned toward the man who’d been speaking. He recognized him immediately from newspaper photos. The county sheriff himself, a new one since he and Carrie were in touch with the sheriff several years earlier. The stocky build, greying hair and mustache were certainly familiar enough. So was the poker-stiff posture that spoke of his former life in the military.
“Norman Cook,” the man said, standing and holding out his hand. “I’m glad to meet you, Major King. Your name, and your wife’s, are known to me, as I have just explained to her. Our previous sheriff shared information about a retired police major from Kansas City who, with Ms. McCrite, helped uncover facts that led to solving a couple of murder cases in this area. I’ve also learned about your recent involvement in a case in Kansas City from a friend in the police department there, since that case had a link to Arkansas. I think you know my friend—Doug Boinevich?”
Henry nodded, and said, “For many years.”
The sheriff continued, “Doug said your wife was wounded during the resolution of that case.” He looked at Carrie, and said, “Madam, you need to keep yourself out of harm’s way.”
Henry thought “Amen to that,” then realized he’d spoken the words aloud.
The sheriff smiled at him, and sat in his chair again, saying “But, that’s past. Now you’re in time to join my conversation with Ms. McCrite, and hear any information she has to share.”
Still addressing Henry, he said, “You may wonder why I came in person, and alone. Roger phoned me at home early this morning, explained a few details, and the sensitive situation Ms. McCrite finds herself in. It therefore seemed best that, at least initially, I tend to this myself.
“I should disclose a connection here. Roger is a second cousin on my father’s side of the family. He and Dad spent time together during family picnics when they were kids. The family is increasingly scattered now, and, sadly, those big gatherings have stopped, but the family connection meant he felt he could safely appeal directly to me.”
Still standing, Henry nodded, but his thoughts were in turmoil. Who was this man, really?
Okay, Roger’s cousin, and a friend of Doug’s, but is that enough to know?
Since Norman Cook’s election he’d read articles in the newspaper concerning activities in the county sheriff’s office. Those mostly concerned budget items, or were comments about on-going cases. He hadn’t seen anything openly critical. But wasn’t it odd that Roger never mentioned the man was his cousin?
Well, maybe not. Roger might think saying he was related to a man elected to this responsible position constituted bragging. If anything, Roger and Shirley would brag about how ordinary they and their families were.
Now they’re trusting this cousin enough to put Carrie’s life in his hands. That has to count for something, but he’s still an outsider, an unknown element.
Henry felt Roger’s stare, and realized his friend was possibly aware of what he’d been thinking. Both he and Shirley had an unsettling ability to understand other people’s thoughts. Now the corners of Roger’s mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. He gave a slight nod, and said, “Have a seat, Henry. Join us.”
Was
there a special emphasis on
“Join us?”