Curds and Whey Box Set

by G M Eppers

  While Ban showered, Roxy, Sylvia and I picked spots on the beds and turned on the TV. I wanted to find out if there was any news coverage on the disappearance of Clara. It’s good to be aware if a media outlet gets something wrong and you might run into someone with the wrong impression, or we could find out the object of our search had been taken into custody and we would all be free to return home. When the TV came on, it was tuned to the English Drama Network. While I hunted for the local listings, they advertised an upcoming Jane Austen marathon, featuring Pride and Prejudice produced by the LGBTQ Players, and a version of Sense and Sensibility starring Buster Keaton as Edward Ferrars from Because We Can Studios. Finally, I found the news channel and switched just as they were showing the opening credits for tonight’s English Drama After Dark feature presentation, Miss Marple Does Hercule Poirot. A less than handsome weatherman was showing the winter storm that had come from the north, predicting 4 to 6 inches by morning. It was expected to stop well before dawn. The little weather setback wasn’t going to stop us for long. It was as if the Powers That Be were forcing us to take a rest, like they knew what was coming.

  Just as I leaned back into the pillow, there was a single knock on the door. “Are you decent?” I recognized Billings’ voice through the door.

  I glanced at the bathroom door, still closed and the shower was still running. “At the moment. Come on in.”

  Billings came in and quietly closed the door behind him. “How are you feeling, Mom?”

  “Fine, why?”

  “Well, I know you haven’t had any pain meds since we left the Mayo Clinic.” He reached into his pocket and brought out a small bottle that rattled. “I picked these up at Gundergard’s. They’re not as strong as what Nitro was giving you, but I thought it would help.”

  It was Extra Strength Tylenol. I took the bottle gratefully. “Thanks, Billings. That’s very thoughtful. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind. Your idea of a time out is a good call. We do need to recharge.” On television, or in movies, you never see investigators do such a thing. They seem to push through the case, even if it clearly takes days, without food, sleep or a bathroom break. That’s not how investigations work in real life. The human body can be pushed, true, but it still has needs that must be addressed from time to time, no matter what. And if you’re going to be ready for action you have to plan ahead, and take the opportunity when it comes. In this case, between the darkness and the snowfall, it was a good time.

  He shrugged. “I know it’s a good call, but I don’t like it, either. Most of me wants to keep going. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep.”

  I patted his cheek. “Trust me. You’ll sleep.” There’d been sleeping on the bus, but it’s just not the same. We needed real sleep, or at least they did. I was not looking forward to sitting this one out. There was even a chance that Knobby would have something to do off the bus, if he ended up having to track Clara through a snow covered preserve. But at least I’d be there. I couldn’t wait to see the Banana Harris / Clara reunion. That was something to hang around for. “Be sure and set the alarm on the clock radio. We should get back on the road at first light. Oh, and check in with the other groups before you turn in. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the Nonegans will have been picked up on a traffic violation.”

  He saluted me. “Aye aye. See you in the morning.” Then he turned to Sylvia and Roxy, not wanting to exclude them completely. “You guys, too. Have a good rest.” He paused, then added, “Wheels up in 5:28:43,” no doubt picking some relatively close but random numbers just to sound authoritative.

  Sylvia couldn’t pass that up. “Wheels up? We’ve got a flying bus now?”

  They exchanged friendly smiles, then Billings left the room.

  Shortly after that, Ban emerged from the bathroom, dressed in the same red scrubs, which were probably more comfortable as ersatz pajamas than anything the rest of us were wearing, and a towel wrapped around her head. “Next!” she announced.

  “Go ahead,” Roxy said to me. She had apparently consulted with Sylvia already and they had agreed to allow me to be next. “Um, Ban, I think Helena’s going to need a favor from you.”

  Ban looked at me, confusion on her face. “Are you okay?”

  I eased myself off the bed, ready to admit my infirmity. “I have a couple of broken ribs and the wrappings have come loose. After I shower could you tighten them up?”

  “Ah! That’s why your son is handling things. I thought it was just a training exercise.”

  “Well, we didn’t think it would turn into a state-wide man hunt.”

  “Not a problem. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

  “Thanks.”

  After I had a matching towel on my head, I put on my pants, but took another towel for around my middle and carried my shirt and the jumbled pile of Ace bandage into the main room so that the next person, who turned out to be Roxy, could get in. I sat up straight on the bed and handed the miles of elastic to Ban. I’d taken some of the Tylenol before I got into the shower, but it definitely was not as effective as a dose of Tramadol would have been. Before wrapping me up, she stopped to examine the surgical scar. “Punctured lung,” I explained. “And they had to screw the ribs in place. They’re the ones that don’t attach to the sternum. I was a mess.”

  “How long ago?”

  “About a week.”

  “No worries. It looks great. No infection. But you really should be in bed.”

  I looked at her as she began wrapping. “I am in bed.” Expertly, Ban wrapped my ribs good and tight and secured it with the attached butterfly clips. Once I was properly wrapped and at least partially medicated, I felt better and too nervous to lie down. I went to the window and opened the drape to look out at the falling snow. “I hope we’ll be able to get out in the morning.”

  Ban was brushing her damp brown hair with her fingers. “Oh, don’t worry about that. If there’s one thing Minnesota knows it’s how to handle snow. Salt trucks and plows have probably been out for a couple of hours already. The roads will be clear enough, especially for the bus.”

  I looked out again doubtfully, and saw Butte about to knock on the door. With a grin, I stepped over and opened the door before his knuckles could make contact. “Yes?”

  If he was startled, he didn’t show it. “Is Ban still awake? You guys need to hear this.”

  He came in and closed the door. His hair was damp and he smelled of soap. “Are you nuts? You’ll catch cold out there like that.”

  “It’s only next door. I’ll take extra C. Shut up and let me talk, would you?” He scanned the room. “Roxy in the shower?”

  “Yes.”

  “You can fill her in later. Ban,” he said directly to Miss Harris, “you’ll be happy to know that the mole has been found and it was the janitor.”

  “The janitor!” She slapped her head. “He had the floor plan but not the access. That’s why they had to break a window. How did they find out?” The relief that it wasn’t one of her lab techs, and most certainly not her fiancé, was evident in her voice. I sympathized with that relief, but wondered briefly if she had some kind of close relationship with the janitor. From the way she spoke, it seemed not.

  “He was also the one assigned to make the drop. He was picked up at the airport by security and our people.” He hesitated, and scratched his left leg with his right foot. “Seems Miss Chiff tackled him and the suitcase next to the third baggage claim carousel about fifteen minutes ago. Sir Haughty and Badger had to calm her down. She was pulling him around by his ponytail and reading him a chapter out of Police Procedures and Techniques. Badger Mirandized him, and Sir Haughty called Billings. Billings wanted to come back over himself and tell you guys, but it was his turn in the shower. Fergie and Knobby are both sawing logs in their underwear, so I got the honor.”

  Ban took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The janitor. I don’t think I even know his name.”

  “I think they said it was Scott Worthingham,” Butte said
after thinking a bit. “Motive was simple. Money. He was going to keep half the ransom and rendezvous with the Nonegans at their cabin on Upper Red Lake to give them the other half.”

  “What was to stop him from keeping the whole thing for himself?” Roxy wanted to know. She’d come out of the shower in her Mrs. Claus outfit, and like Ban, was brushing her hair with her fingers, making a face about the lack of proper grooming. She sat cross-legged on the far bed. Sylvia waited for Butte to answer, but rose and stood at the bathroom door. Her body language said, “Get to the point. I’m tired and I want to clean up,” but she said nothing out loud.

  Butte turned to Roxy. “According to what Sir Haughty told me, Gary threatened Mr. Worthingham’s son.”

  Roxy unfolded her long legs and stood. “He threatened the guy’s son? You mean, like, do this or the kid gets it?” That was a pretty serious threat, and frankly, Gary didn’t really seem like the type.

  “Well,” Butte admitted, “they haven’t had very long to talk to Worthingham, but yes, I think so. And I know what you mean. From what I know about these guys, they are small-time thieves, not murderers. I think we’re still missing a piece of the puzzle.”

  “Well, at least we know for sure where they are going. Fergie might know a faster way of getting there.” I suggested. At last report, he was sound asleep, but seeing how he reacted when Knobby reported the low gas gauge, he’d be able to respond quickly once he was filled in on the situation.

  “But were they going there before or after they let Clara loose?” Sylvia asked. No one had an answer to that. Here Butte thought he was going to put our minds at ease by telling us who the mole was, and instead the news had somehow opened up more uncertainties. “I suppose there’s no way to tell until we catch them.” Sylvia was good at staying focused on what she could do and would easily let go of something she couldn’t. “I’d prefer to secure Clara first and then get the Nonegans, but we may have to do it the other way around. Playing things by ear sucks.” She was also good at not hiding her disdain for uncertainties.

  Butte said his good nights and left. Sylvia went into the shower. Roxy tucked herself into one side of the far bed and picked up the basic clock radio to set the alarm as she waited for Sylvia to emerge from the shower. I crawled under my covers and Ban lay down on the other side. Here I was, sharing a bed with THE Banana Harris, my idol, my God, and I was too tired to even be nervous. The truth was I wasn’t in awe of her anymore. We were like sisters now. My sister from another mother. We’d already been through too much to indulge in idol worship. It still took me a while to fall asleep, thinking about the snow, and the mole, and the Nonegans strange behavior. And Clara. What would the next day bring?

  We woke to the alarm five hours later and did another brief round of tag team bathroom. We reassembled our outerwear one layer at a time and soon were all bundled in our ranger parkas. I pulled back the drape again to peer outside. Knobby and Billings were already out there clearing snow off the bus. As Ban had promised the parking lot and roads were easily passable, while other areas held bumpy white hills, painted orange by the rising sun. The sky was clear, and the air was still. As I opened the door, I realized it was also as cold as the proverbial witch’s elbow. It hadn’t seemed that cold yesterday, when the only shelter was a barely warm bus and we’d acclimated to it, but having spent a night in a nice warm motel bed, my body temperature regulator was now spoiled. If it weren’t for the quilted ranger parka, I would have scampered back inside.

  Billings saw me as I approached the bus. “You girls about ready? We’re all checked out. Just go give the desk clerk your key and we can hit the road.” As I got closer, he lowered his voice. “Feeling better?”

  I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, Billings. Thank you. All set for another bus ride.” I diverted toward the front of the building and saw Sylvia come out from the corner of my eye. I knew the others would be out soon. I went into the motel lobby and handed the key to the clerk, who nodded at me and told me to have a nice day. I went back out and headed around the corner of the building back toward the bus, with my head up wanting to take my usual head count. Several yards behind the bus, I saw it. The yellow pickup was rolling out from the opposite side of the building and heading toward the exit driveway. Instantly, with a muttered “crap,” I kicked into high gear, racing to the bus. “Everyone on the bus!” I screamed. “There they are!” I pointed beyond them.

  Heads turned en masse and all of them hustled onto the bus. Knobby was settling into the driver seat as I got to the door, which closed behind me. I heard him try to start the engine. Roxy and Sylvia were at the back of the bus, looking out the window as the yellow pickup entered the frontage road and headed back to the highway. “Go! Go! Go!” everyone was yelling.

  But the engine wouldn’t turn over.

  Fergie got out his trooper phone. “Officer Ferguson calling,” he said hurriedly. “We sighted the yellow pickup,” and he gave our location. “It’s continuing north and my transportation is unreliable. I want a chopper in the air NOW!”

  At first there was no answer. Then the female dispatcher’s voice came back. “Sorry, Fergie, that’s a negative.”

  I looked at Fergie and he looked at me as he responded, “What do you mean that’s a negative? It’s daylight, I know we have choppers available, get one in the air.”

  “No can do. Storm last night. We got two doing Flight for Life, one in the shop, and a couple looking for lost hikers in the Sawtooths. I can’t help you.” The connection was closed on their end and the line went dead.

  Fergie stared at his phone as if it had sprouted ears and a tail. “Something’s wrong.”

  “Fergie?” I prompted.

  “Mabel didn’t sound right. And we have more than five choppers, damn it.”

  “Call her back,” said Sylvia. “Make her listen.”

  Fergie’s brow was still furrowed. He shook his head and put the phone back on his belt. “No. When she said she couldn’t help me, she meant it. I just don’t know why.”

  While this was going on, Knobby had continued to try to start the engine, but after all night in the frigid cold it just refused to turn over. “I keep trying I’m going to flood the darn thing,” he said, turning the key off and sitting back. “Sorry, gang.”

  “The rental place did say their mechanics hadn’t finished with it yet,” mentioned Billings. “Might have guessed it would break down at the worst possible moment. Must be a law of physics.”

  “No,” I said. “It’s just that there’s no such thing as a good time. We’d feel the same way if it had broken down during the storm last night.”

  He got up from his seat and went to the front. “Open up. I’ll ask the desk clerk if he has anything available to give us a jump.” Knobby opened the door and Billings got out, going to the front of the motel at a fast walk. While he was gone, Knobby himself got out and opened the hood on the bus. I watched him nervously. It was a stretch for him and going to tiptoe is one of the things that can put extra stress on your knees. The hood folded up with a creak and a clank.

  Knowing nothing about engines of either kind, I decided to wait on the bus. Sylvia, without a word, got up and hopped down the two steps to the ground. I figured she was going out to watch the tall people who weren’t afraid of grease work, and she did glance at them, but then walked away toward the front office. Curiously, I watched her disappear around the corner.

  Roxy pulled out her crocheting calmly. I’m not sure if she noticed Sylvia leaving or not. I was beginning to suspect the entire crochet thing was nothing more than an outlet for nervous energy. The thing she was producing was a bright red mishmash of stitches and even my amateur eye could spot mistakes in almost every row. With a shrug, I let it be. It wasn’t my mishmash.

  Ban looked out the window in the direction the pickup had disappeared. “We were so close! All night long they were right on the other side of the building! Why didn’t we run the parking lot? We should have run the lot and looke
d.”

  “Ban, we had no idea. It was dark, and it was snowing. And we can’t afford to play ‘coulda woulda shoulda.’”

  Fergie’s mental wheels were turning, still in deep thought about what was happening at dispatch, but he calmed Ban. “We know where they’re going. We’ll get the bus started. We’ll only be a few minutes behind.”

  Billings came rushing out of the motel with the clerk who was bundled in a bulky black winter coat and hood. The clerk went to a black Ford Astro van parked nearby, got in and drove it around to a position facing the front of the bus. He turned off the engine; then he got out and opened the hood, ran around back and opened the hatch, emerging shortly with a handful of jumper cables. The men did their men thing, which seems sexist but in our little group it pretty much fit the bill. Now, if Nitro had been here, he would have broken the mold. With valuable hands like his he wasn’t about to mess around with an engine.

  Knobby got back on the bus and sat down behind the wheel, waiting for the signal to try the ignition. After a couple of tries, the bus’s engine finally turned over and started to idle. Knobby let it idle while Billings and the motel clerk removed the cables and closed up the vehicle hoods. Billings shook the clerk’s hand in thanks and the clerk hurried back to the motel. “Wait, Sylvia’s not here,” I said as Knobby prepared to put the bus into gear.

  His head spinning as he counted heads, Billings asked, “Where did she go?”

  “She didn’t say. She went that way a few minutes ago.” I pointed in the direction the clerk had gone. Even as I said that, she appeared around the corner, her hands shoved deep into her pockets, and got back on the bus, staying just inside the doorway.

  Billings was angry. “Sylvia, where did you go? You should have told someone. We almost left without you.”

  “Sorry.” She took one hand out of her pocket. It held a crumpled tissue, which she fluffed open with her other hand and held it so Knobby could see. “Knobby, can you identify this?” I couldn’t see what was in the tissue, and after I heard what it was I didn’t want to.