So Carrie talked the rest of the way home, with Henry adding comments here and there, bringing Susan up-to-date on everything that had happened in Walden Valley since Sunday.
“Do you think Carrie’s in some danger?” Susan asked Henry, as he repeated his speculations about why JoAnne had been brought to the big tree beside Carrie’s walking path.
“I just don’t know, but everything about this worries me. There are so many peculiar things that we have no explanations for yet. The sheriff’s department has suspicions about Stoker, the quarry owner, but so far they have no proof of anything. The bullet that killed JoAnne was stuck in the wall upholstery of the truck cab across from where she was sitting. It was stopped by the metal wall. But, though Stoker owns several guns, none they found at his house could be the murder weapon. It would have been easy to dispose of the gun, though. Easy for him, or anyone else. It could be anywhere in the tri-state corner—in Arkansas, Missouri, or Oklahoma—and that’s a pretty big hiding place. It could lie in some hollow for years without anyone seeing it.”
“Carrie, I’m not letting you out of my sight the whole time I’m here,” said Susan. “I’ll protect you from any more of what happened last night. We’ll stick together now.
“It does sound like there might be something worth finding in those caves, though. Going to search them sounds like fun but under the circumstances a little scary too. I don’t think the two of us should go alone. I think Henry should come along.”
“I’d insist on it,” Henry said.
* * *
As they headed down the lane toward Carrie’s garage, Susan said, “Oh look, there’s FatCat, come to say hello.”
Carrie stared at the cat, who was sitting upright on the porch watching them.
“But she doesn’t go outside,” Carrie said. “JoAnne never let her out, and I don’t. She was inside the house when we left. She didn’t get past us, did she, Henry?”
“I don’t think she could have,” he said. His words sounded clipped and tense.
He didn’t put the station wagon in the garage, but pulled up in the drive, asked Carrie for her house key, and was out before she could unfasten her seat belt. He scooped the cat up with one hand and unlocked the door with the other.
Henry didn’t open the door at once. He came quickly back to Carrie and said in a low voice, “Take the cat, then get back in the station wagon, and lock the doors. Be ready to drive immediately. I’m going inside. You stay here with Susan and the baby. If anyone comes out of the house but me, or I’m not back in five minutes, don’t get out. Go for help.”
Carrie had no time to protest. He pushed the cat in her arms, opened the door to the house, and was gone.
Chapter XVIII
For a while all Carrie could think of was that, without hesitation, Henry had rushed into what could be danger and, once more, it was her danger. Her house... her danger. But why her danger? Why here? Why!
She tried to settle her thoughts... to pray for Henry’s safety, which should be the most important thing at the moment.
“Men want you to need them.”
Shirley—wonderful, warm, mother-woman Shirley—had said it, but her words were only half of Henry’s idea.
“People need people,” he’d said. Well, children needed adults, and less fortunate ones needed help, but she was strong by herself! She would stand on her own feet!
As she began a prayer, a phrase from Second Corinthians 8:14 came to her: “... that there may be equality.”
Funny thing to come to mind now. Bible passages now should be part of her prayer for Henry, but, there it was. Equality. Sharing. Helping each other. But how could she prove her ability to be independent when troubles like now came up and she needed help, time after time?
In Kansas City, they said Henry had lost his nerve. But what about now? He had rushed into her house so quickly that there was no chance for her to say anything at all, either of encouragement or protest. He’d just done what he must do. Was that simply his training taking over, or was it concern for her life and home as well? Whatever it was, it took plenty of bravery, plenty of nerve.
Equality. Everyone had a roll to play out at any time... a God-given role. Like now? Yes, like now.
In spite of her fear and confusion, Carrie suddenly felt a peculiar sort of peace.
She heard Susan move in the back seat.
Whatever was happening, whatever the danger, it had begun to touch Susan too. Until this moment it seemed right for Susan to come here. But was it safe?
Susan moved again, a quick, nervous bounce. Finally, she said, “I can’t stand this! Don’t you think we should check? Surely he could have looked through the house by now.”
Susan’s young life probably wouldn’t yet understand what Carrie was thinking, so, without taking her eyes off the front door, she said, “He needs to know we’re safe in the car. He’s trained to deal with things like this. He will be all right.”
I hope I really believe that, she told herself, still watching the door.
“Well, if I didn’t have Johnny with me, I’d be in that house right now,” Susan said.
Maybe I should be, Carrie thought.
Susan shifted nearer the car door, another quick bounce. “Does he carry a gun?” she asked.
“No, no, he doesn’t, not anymore.”
Just then Henry reappeared.
“Someone was in the house when I opened the door,” he told them as Carrie got out of the car, “but he’s gone now. I only caught a glimpse as he jumped off your deck, but I think I might recognize him again. Funny, I know he saw me too, and he’d made no effort to get away until he did. I don’t think he was expecting me to be the one who came in the house.”
He hesitated for a moment, then said, his words coming slowly, carefully, and almost without expression. “I’m thankful you and Susan weren’t here alone.”
“I... I am too.”
“I took a quick look around. Nothing seems disturbed, other than the glass in the door to your deck. I’m afraid it’s smashed.”
She stared at his sober face. “But why?
Why
?”
He shook his head and went on. “I’m sure I interrupted whatever was intended. I’ve called Taylor. He’s on the way, and until he arrives, we’ll stay out of the main part of the house and not touch anything. They’ll search the woods, of course, but the man will be long gone, and there will undoubtedly be signs that a vehicle has been using the old fire road again.”
Carrie was no longer frightened. She was furious. “This is outrageous! What’s more, it makes no sense. As soon as we can, when we’re all fed and Johnny is settled for his nap, we’ve got to talk, and think, and decide where among all this craziness something does make sense.”
The first thing Carrie did was shut FatCat in the laundry room with her basket, water, toys, and litter box, hoping a quick back rub was enough apology. Then, while Susan tended to the baby and Henry carried in luggage, she looked around quickly and checked to see if JoAnne’s box was intact. It was. Henry was right. There was no sign anything but the door had been disturbed.
She called her insurance company and the patio door company from the kitchen, then began work on the soup she’d planned for lunch—an easy combination of canned tomato soup, chopped frozen tomato from her summer garden, celery, onions, and basil, combined with quick rice and a dash of hot pepper sauce. Cold baked ham would do for meat. She couldn’t manage more now.
In a few minutes, Henry appeared in the kitchen. “Susan’s settled and feeding the baby. I’ll clean up the broken glass after Taylor’s through. Your door was smashed with a big rock—it’s still there. It would have been very noisy, so the intruder knew you were gone. I’ll go get plywood to put up after Taylor leaves, though I hate to leave you alone now.”
Carrie finished brushing garlic butter on a pan of unroll-and-bake french bread and put it back in the oven. “Don’t worry about the plywood,” she told him. “The glass people are coming right away. They were available, and the insurance company says it’s okay under the circumstances.”
She lifted the soup pot lid to stir, then wiped steam off her glasses. “Henry, do you think there’s any danger for Susan and Johnny? If so, I’d like to put them on a plane back to Kansas City. But first, maybe the three of us working together can make some sense of all this. Let’s talk and combine all our ideas and knowledge of JoAnne. I’d think we had a lunatic on our hands, except, well, it seems focused toward a few of us fighting the quarry, doesn’t it? If so, Susan should be safe.”
“I don’t see how Susan could be in any danger,” he said, “but I plan to sleep on your couch again tonight, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to move to JoAnne’s house tomorrow. I believe in sticking together.”
The lunch was a success. Both Susan and Henry assumed she’d spent hours creating the soup, and her salad made with strawberry gelatin, frozen strawberries, and whipped cottage cheese was always a hit. Dessert was Sara Lee cake.
They were just finishing the meal when Taylor appeared at the front door. He greeted Carrie cordially, but showed no interest in asking her more questions. She’d already decided if he did, she was going to spice things up by inventing something exotic. The man already knew more about her than most of her friends and family.
Carrie introduced Susan, then left her with the men and went back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up. Taylor evidently didn’t have much to ask Susan, because in a few minutes she re-joined Carrie in the kitchen. They made fresh cups of coffee and sat at the table while Carrie described her visit to the lawyer and the preliminary plans for Saturday’s memorial service. Susan approved the plans and agreed to a meeting with the lawyer on Friday.
They heard the front door shut and in a minute Henry was with them. “I pulled the drapes over the door,” he said. “That’ll have to do until the repair people come.”
“Anything new from Taylor?” Carrie asked.
“No clues as to who broke in, which isn’t surprising, and he also said they haven’t found any helpful evidence or any more pieces of pottery on the old farm. They located Stoker, and he says he was at a club with friends last night. They’re checking on that. I suppose the man could create an alibi by getting his friends to lie for him. But, as you know, Taylor’s pretty good at smooth-talking with folks and finding out more than they planned to tell.
“I told him that both you and I would like to see Charles Stoker, especially since I got a glimpse of the man who broke in here. Maybe they’ll plan a line-up.”
Carrie made another cup of coffee, and Henry sat. She’d noticed he wasn’t too big for her kitchen chairs after all. Not larger than life, she thought. Just a big man!
She pushed a pad of legal paper out in the center of the table and said, “Now, let’s think. What do we know?”
The phone rang. “Oh! Well, you two think. Excuse me.”
It was Mag Bruner. “Hello, Carrie. It’s awful about JoAnne. I know you two were close, and this is especially terrible for you. Tell me, are there plans for a funeral?”
Carrie told Mag what was planned and remembered to be polite, since Mag had a right to be thought of as innocent unless something came up to prove she wasn’t.
“Is there anything I can do? Cook? Will there be family coming in?”
“Just JoAnne’s niece and her husband and their baby.”
“Let me bring you a chicken casserole. That’s easy to store and warm up. And an apple pie and salad? How about it? I’ll bring it over Friday evening before suppertime.”
“Mag, that’s very nice. It would help. I haven’t much time to cook right now.”
“It’s done then. Carrie, look, I talked to Jason today, and he told me... well, I need to explain lots of things about that quarry land to all of you.”
Not sure what to say, and not knowing how much Jason had told Mag, Carrie simply answered, “As you can imagine, things are kind of on hold for now, but Jason will be in touch with all of us, I’m sure. Thanks for offering food.”
Carrie returned to the table and had just finished repeating Mag’s conversation when the phone rang again. She left Susan’s dark head and Henry’s grey one bent over the legal pad and went to answer the phone.
“Hello, Carrie. How are you? Is Susan there yet? Any new clues about the death of your friend?”
It was Evan.
Reminding herself that patience was a virtue, she assured him she was fine and answered questions about her plans for the week. When she returned to the table, Henry said, “We couldn’t help overhearing part of that. Someone sure is interested in knowing everything that’s going on in your life. Sounded like a boyfriend.”
Henry was just joking, but she made a face, remembering Shirley’s words about Evan being in love with her. “Hardly. It was Evan Walters. Ever since Amos died, he’s felt a certain responsibility for me, I think. He read about JoAnne in the Tulsa paper and has been calling to make sure I’m all right. It’s getting rather tiresome, but I’m trying to be nice to him. After all, I guess he’s just showing kindness. He’s single and spends lots of time alone. I do think he has too much time to worry.”
Susan had lifted her head to look at Carrie. “Evan Walters from Tulsa? Stock broker? Oh, my, I’d forgotten. Aunt JoAnne told me he’s the one who was hunting with your... ”
Carrie interrupted her. “Yes. Do you work for Michaels, Nelson, and Tolby? I never asked JoAnne the name.”
“Yes, I do,” Susan said. “I’m in Cash Control. Is Evan Walters your broker now?”
“No,” Carrie said. “He was, but I transferred everything to the office in Bonny when I moved. I saw no need to leave anything in Tulsa at all.”
“Good move,” said Susan, looking at her thoughtfully for a moment before turning back to the legal pad.
“What we’ve been doing,” Henry said, “is identifying what we know and what we need to find out or figure out to fill in the pieces of our puzzle. Here in this column is what we know. Mostly it’s the times various things happened and where they happened. We began with Friday night when JoAnne told you she had good news. We’ve included everything up to the break-in here today. All the times are written in as near as we know them. On this side, Susan is writing the unknowns and peculiarities about each event. So far, nothing even looks like a pattern, except... well, do you see it? Susan and I agree. You’ve been touched by this too many times.”