by Peggy Staggs
In my car I called Don March.
He answered simply, “March.” I rarely called him at work. When I did, he always answered the same way. He never paid any attention to caller ID. You’d think in his position with the CIA, he’d be more careful.
“Don, it’s Ensley.”
“Hi, Honey, what’s up?”
“I lost my job.” I don’t know what I expected him to do. “They destroyed my research.” I wasn’t even sure why I was calling him. Secretly, I hoped he’d begin an investigation into CBK Corp. I knew that was completely irrational.
Silence.
“Ensley, it’s all for the best.”
“Excuse me? All for the best? My team and I have been working on it for two years. Two years. My people are out of jobs. They have families. I’ve been blacklisted.”
“It’s a blessing in disguise. There’s no reason we can’t get married now. You don’t have any prospects—”
“You knew. How?” In that split second, I knew he was somehow behind this. Maybe not getting the project stopped, but I was willing to bet he had pull with the “someone” who’d had me blacklisted. “How could you? How could you? You ruined my career. I’ll never be able to get a job in research again.” I was crying. The man who’d told me a few days ago that he loved me and wanted to marry me had betrayed me. Jerked my life’s goal out from under me. “I hate you.”
“Now, Honey, you don’t mean that. You’re—”
I had no idea what he said after that because I hung up. Then, through my tears, I did the only thing I could do at that moment. I deleted his number from my phone.
»§«
I stood by my car taking one last look at the house I’d rented for the past three years. Somehow, I’d never gotten around to buying a place of my own. I’d left the curtains. The new renters will probably throw them out. Still, it made the house appear less empty. Less abandoned.
Abandoned? No, betrayed. And more. Last night had been worse than losing my job if that was possible. I never wanted to see or hear from Don again. How could I have been so stupid? Oh, yeah. He was only the second man I’d ever been with. That excuse rang hollow. I was smarter than that. I had to be.
With no hope of a job pretty much anywhere on the east coast, I didn’t have a choice. Longmont had been right. People who a month ago were besieging me with job offers would no longer take my calls.
My only option was to leave the east coast for the wilds of Idaho.
Find Dad, spend some time with him, then move on to a west coast research job or maybe teaching.
Dad first.
I’d sent all my furniture to an auction house. They’d assured me they’d get top dollar for everything. There wasn’t much there. I traded my car in for a Lexus SUV. I splurged. I wanted everything new. Well, except for my clothes and shoes. I wasn’t going to give them up. I’d donated everything Don had given me to the Salvation Army. The dress I’d worn the night Don proposed was on top of the heap. Along everything he’d given me.
With my real world gone, I found myself on the threshold of a journey. One taking me across country with all my worldly possessions piled in a U-Haul. I slid into my new car. The rich smell of leather mixed with new car scent greeted me. I pushed the start button. CBK had bought me out of my contract. Their stupid decision had cost them dearly.
Earlier, I’d talked to the Sheriff with the sexy voice. He was probably fifty with a stomach slopping over his belt. He had a nice voice all the same. He’d told me they didn’t have anything new on my father. He’d assured me he was doing everything possible, but had found nothing so far. He promised he’d keep me up to date. And he even wished me a smooth trip. That was nice. He was probably a fishing buddy of my dad’s.
»§«
As the miles slipped by, I had time to ponder all the things that had to fall into place for an event to happen. A right turn instead of a left. No stop for coffee one morning. Taking the stairs instead of the elevator. You put your trust in a man who turns out to be a total monster. It all counts. It all changes everything.
If my job hadn’t ended so badly, I hadn’t been ostracized, and Dad hadn’t turned up missing, I wouldn’t be driving down stick-straight highway 70 between Topeka and the Colorado state line. Fields of golden wheat streamed by on both sides of the road as I searched for a radio station. I’d already listened to three books on tape. I gave up the hunt. “I should have subscribed to Sirius.”
My phone rang. I glanced at the dashboard for the name of the caller. It displayed only an unfamiliar Idaho phone number.
I hesitated. Maybe it was the Sheriff calling to tell me he’d found Dad. No. The Sheriff’s name would have shown up. He was in my contacts list since we talked every day.
It rang again. I pushed the answer button on the steering wheel. At least it would break up the silence. “Hello.”
“Ensley Markus? This is Nate Baker the manager of Canyon Savings and Loan in Spirit Springs. I understand you’re on your way here.”
“I am.”
“I’d like to meet with you at your earliest convenience. Maybe we could have dinner one evening.”
That seemed a little bit over-friendly, even for a small town. Especially one with only one bank. “I’ve got something more pressing right now. Can it wait?”
“I know, we’re all worried about Ralph. However, this is important. It’s about an investment he was interested in.”
My curiosity peeked. What couldn’t wait until he got back? I had to ask, “Is there a problem? He’s only been gone a few days.” When I said it out loud, it sounded like a very long time.
“Oh, no. It’s a time sensitive investment. I need to know if you’re interested in pursuing it.”
“I don’t know anything about it. And besides, there’s nothing I can do. I don’t have power of attorney.” Great, he’d written him off. I wondered if the Sheriff felt the same way and he’d been stringing me along to be nice. Actually, it didn’t seem very nice when I thought about it. I know they say the first twenty-four hours are the most important in a missing person’s case. By my calendar, it had been six days. Nearly a week. My heart sank. I was going to call the Sheriff next.
“No, no. Of course not,” Nate Baker was saying. “I thought if you’d talked to him about it, you may know what he wants to do. I’d hate to see this kind of opportunity get away.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about an investment. And I can’t make a decision right now.”
“We’ll have to wait for Ralph then.”
“Yes. Good bye.” I pushed the off button. A second later, I wished I hadn’t. Either the long straight road, or all the alone time was chipping away at my brain cells. I should have asked more about an investment that couldn’t wait a few more days. And why was it so important for him to call me about it? And how had he gotten my number?
I took a deep breath and called the Sheriff.
“Good morning, Dr. Markus.” As always, his voice was friendly and warm.
I both love and hate caller ID. “Good morning, Sheriff. Is there any new information on my Dad?”
“Sorry, no. All the leads I had were dead ends. I’ve got one more promising one I’m checking into this afternoon.”
“What is it?” I figure it wouldn’t hurt to ask.
“I’d like to check it out first. I don’t want to get your hopes up.”
“Is there any real progress?” I was going to pin this guy down.
“Some.”
That was vague. “Like what.” I was totally aware my voice was less than friendly.
“I know he has his truck. No one has seen it since he left. He hasn’t used his bank account or credit cards. He has to have cash. I’ve checked all the hotels and motels within fifty miles. I gone to every one of his fishing spots. We’ve flown over the area. If he’s out there I’ll find him.”
“Thank you, I don’t mean to sound so pushy, it hasn’t been a great week.” I’d know soon enough. I’d pl
anned on making Idaho today. That wasn’t going to happen.
“When will you be in town?”
“Tomorrow afternoon if I don’t fall asleep on this straight road.”
“You’re in Kansas.” It hadn’t been a question.
“Yes, don’t they have any turns in this state?”
He laughed. “They do believe in the straight if not the narrow.” He paused for a beat. “I hope to have some answers for you tomorrow.”
I hoped he was right. Something good.
Chapter Three
I stared through the windshield at the B&B’s two boarded-up window panes. The 1910 schoolhouse appeared empty, silent, almost haunted. The white-trimmed windows and red brick exterior failed to give the place energy. The dark windows, and the lack of life inside, erased any feeling of a quaint B&B I’d visited over the years.
Outside, I welcomed the mild fall day after the filtered air of the car. The grass around the building had lost its struggle to remain green under the onslaught of Idaho’s summer heat. Green islands surrounded the towering oaks and maples. Their leaves were giving up the lush green of summer for the colors of fall. Yellow, red, burgundy, and orange. Only the pines retained their summer freshness.
The flowers had succumbed to the cold nights and lay dead on the ground. Some of the flower beds had been trimmed back. At least, someone was trying to keep up the place. I closed the car door and said to no one, “This decline took longer than a week. What happened?”
As I climbed the sandstone steps to a set of substantial front doors, I could almost see kids from years past as they arrived for school. The boys in denim overalls straight from helping their dads on the ranch, mud still clinging to their shoes. The girls dressed in gingham jumpers, Mary Jane shoes and white socks.
I fitted the key Dad had sent me long ago into the aged lock. Inside, light filtered through the oversized windows and onto the ancient wood floors. They’d been refinished enough to protect them, but not to the point of destroying their charm. A dance of blue dots, no doubt from the days of inkwells, swirled around the entry floor.
I almost expected to hear Dad call out, “Hey, Kiddo. About time you got here.” It was his standard greeting. It didn’t matter if I was getting home from school or returning home from a long absence.
I peeked into the room on the right. It held the welcoming charm the outside lacked. Despite the boarded up windows, autumn sunlight mingled with the smell of fresh bread. It filled the room with the feeling of home. Three beautiful antique dining tables dotted the room with warmth. On the far wall, dishes stacked on a large buffet waited for someone to come and set the tables.
A door slammed. Instantly, I wished I’d followed my brother Cole’s advice and brought my revolver in with me. ‘Ensley, you never know when you may need it.’ My brother is big on self-protection. Of course he would be. In his line of work it was always first on his list.
Unfortunately, my.38 was in a locked box in the locked U-Haul. If I needed it, by the time I got it, I’d be in serious trouble.
I tiptoed across the timeworn floor to the kitchen door. As I put my hand out to open it, the sound of banging pans split the air. I edged it open and peeked inside. I recognized Jane from all my visits out here. I stepped inside. I didn’t want to scare her. “Jane, how are you?”
A scream, followed by a second wave of crashing pans. She grabbed a knife from the counter and whirled around. “I’ve got a knife.” Her voice came out in a hoarse screech.
Great. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She put her hand to her chest. “With all that’s been going on I’m jumpy.” She laid the knife on the large stainless steel worktable. She had a sturdy frame—not heavy just sturdy as if she was used to hard work. Her short blond hair stuck out in unruly wisps around her oval face. Her bright blue eyes flashed, giving her a fresh farm girl sparkle.
“I’ve been on edge since this started.” She took a step back and leaned against the oven.
“What’s happened?”
“It started a couple of weeks ago, someone broke the front windows. Then they started a fire in the dry grass. I’d been watering so it didn’t spread. Scared me though.” She paused as she tilted her head. “Move over here. The light’s no good in here. Doc says I need glasses. I’ve never worn ‘em and I’m not starting now. I just don’t look good in them.”
I angled my way between her and the window and into the bright light of the large counter-to-ceiling windows.
“Look at you. You’ve let your hair grow. I like brown hair.” She fluffed her blond wisps. “This is turning white. I guess it would be okay to go platinum.”
“Have you heard anything new about my dad today?” I asked.
“No. I know Jack is doing his best to find him. If anyone can find him, it’s Jack.”
“Why’re you here? I mean I thought with Dad uh, gone and the B&B closed, there wouldn’t be anything here to do.”
“Well, I bake the bread, water outside as best I can and feed the cats, don’t I?” She pointed to a black and white cat and a small gray tabby. They sat observing the commotion from the doorway to the back porch. “I can’t let the silly things starve.”
“And bake the bread?” I thought that was something that needed to be addressed.
“Well, if I don’t, who will? And that’s what’s supporting this place right now. The General’s taken to ferreting out ghosts or some such things. Not taken any guests in six months.”
“Six months?”
“No. That’s the reason for the bread.”
I’ll bite. “Who’s the bread for?”
“It would be for the restaurants and the Gas and Gulp wouldn’t it? And the leftovers go to those awful birds on the roof making all that noise.”
The only noise I could hear was the melodic tones of songbirds.
“And water?”
“I’m trying to keep the place up best I can. I move the sprinkler around to the trees. I figure a little seed next spring will fix the grass.”
“Thank you.” I wondered how much a sprinkler system would cost and why my father hadn’t put one in. He hated yard work. When my brother went off to college, Dad had handed the lawn services over to me. When I left a year later, he hired it done. “Why’d he stop taking guests?”
“He wouldn’t say. One day he said, ‘Jane, we’re out of business for a while.’ I figured he had his reasons and it was none of my business.”
I figured it was mine. “You’ve been supporting the whole place for six months?” He had plenty of money from investments, savings, and his Air Force retirement. So why was Jane having to bake to keep the place going?
“Not entirely. I’ve been baking for a couple of years now. Comes in handy. Right now it’s the only way I could figure to make enough to keep the lights on and the water flowing.” She tilted her head to the right. “Did you come to find your dad?”
I might as well start now. The more I knew, the better chance I had to solve this problem. “What happened the day he went missing?” A hollow feeling sat in my chest just over my heart.
“As to the what, I don’t know. A week ago today, he said he had things to check out. Next morning off he went and no one’s heard from him since. I don’t mind telling you I’m concerned. All this time with no word isn’t like him. He wouldn’t do that if he was able to get home.”
“Jane, are you bothering this nice lady with your crazy stories?” A man in jeans and a yellow golf shirt complete with armpit stains pulled open the screen door to the porch and walked in. “Hello, there. You must be Ralph’s girl. Heard you’d be here today.” His words were interspersed with puffs of breath.
“I’m not crazy. It’s just a notion,” Jane said and turned to pick up the pans she’d dropped.
I glanced back at the newcomer. If he were my patient, I’d have him on a diet. But as a former research physician, I don’t have patients. I’d always preferred the research end of medicine. And I did
n’t have that now. “I’m Ensley Markus.” I introduced myself.
“Howard Harris, Mayor of Spirit Springs.” He stepped forward and offered me his hand. “Welcome to town.”
“Nice to meet you.” I tried to smile and couldn’t. I was tired from driving across country and sleeping in lumpy motel beds. And worry. Mostly worry.
Howard shook my hand as if I were going to cast the one vote he needed to win the election of his life. “Sheriff Trace told me he wanted to see you when you got here. Thought I’d leave a note with Jane.” He held out a slip of paper. “Then there’s the big town meeting tomorrow. This one’s important. But aren’t they all?” He gave a politician’s laugh. “Most of the town will be there. It would be nice to see a pretty face at the meeting. And some of the business has to do with the B&B. Ralph’s interests should be represented. It’s important you be there. For Ralph. Directions are on there.” He pointed to the note.
Oh, brother. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Coming from Washington DC, I’m used to politicians. They were at all the parties I’d gone to with Don. Politics fairly dripped from the chandeliers at those functions. This guy wouldn’t last a minute with the pros. And why the big emphasis on Dad’s interests? First Nate Baker and his story about an investment. Now the mayor and his attention to Dad’s concerns. Maybe it was because he was an important part of this small community.
Jane watched our exchange. Her arms crossed over her ample chest and her mouth pulled into a harsh line.
Howard appeared to ponder something. Finally he said, “Hear you’re a doctor. Could be a great opportunity for you and us.”
“I’m not–”
“Doc Grant is due to retire here soon.” He winked and nodded.
House calls, midnight baby deliveries, and setting broken legs on kitchen tables might have worked for old Doc Grant, but not for Ensley Markus. “I’m not licensed in this state.”
Howard checked his watch. “You’re probably tired from your trip. Sheriff’s not in his office anyway.”