The driver slowed down and shook a no-no finger at me.
I waved and mouthed, Sorry.
Edgy’s door opened as I scurried up her steps. She held her left hand to her chest, patting it like an old lady instead of her vibrant sixty-six years. “Why on earth are you dodging cars?” she asked. “You should know better.”
I didn’t know what to say, then blurted, “I need Fred to come help me with a broken faucet I can’t shut off.”
“He can’t.”
“Why not?”
“He’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“The Beartooth Mountains with his old mates to fly-fish in lakes so high I’m sure they’ll need oxygen tanks to survive. Go home and call a plumber.”
“You’re pretty sassy. I’m not Marley.”
Edgy laughed. “She’s more fun. I’ve been missing that girl.”
I hurried off her porch and back across the empty street. I turned and called, “I’ll pick you up at six.”
Edgy waved and disappeared inside.
I absolutely could not let her miss this chance to find her daughter.
What the devil was I going to do? Had Dean lied? How long had he been following me and Edgy? And why did Randal know Edgy so well? My thoughts were a whirling mess of questions.
Chapter 8
A ccording to Edgy, we had to be at Millie’s and ready to play by six thirty. We arrived at the old building on the top of a wooded hill west of Whitefish with time to spare. After entering through the double doors, we joined a short line at the pay station.
Edgy chose to sit at a table close to the entrance, immediately spreading out her bingo sheets and daubers. I placed mine beside hers and wandered the large community room that Millie’s husband had built forty years ago on this hilly part of his farmland. It was still used as a club house by country folk living in the surrounding area. I pretended to look at portraits of past and current members lining the white stucco walls. I snooped around a half-open door to a storage room. No sign of Dean.
I moseyed back to the kitchen area where two stocky, middle-aged women were assembling sandwiches and brewing coffee. They looked busy and friendly, like part of the atmosphere.
“You want a sandwich?” asked one with frosted and stiffly sprayed hair.
“Think I’ll just have coffee.”
She thumbed toward a table. “Pots are over there. We have beer if you want a bottle.”
“Coffee’s good.” I pumped a cupful, put money in the basket, and went to sit by Edgy. Dean just wasn’t here, not anywhere. I didn’t know how to feel about that. But my cheeks warmed a little when I realized the ladies and a few gentlemen scattered around the rows of resin-topped tables were watching me check out the place. I couldn’t blame them. It probably looked like I planned to stick up the joint. I gladly suffered the embarrassment. Before the night was over, Edgy would know about her daughter.
I caught Edgy’s glare as I settled beside her.
She straightened her tank top. “What the devil are you doing?”
“I thought you went out for a cigarette.”
The next words out of her mouth erased any guilt I might have been feeling. “I’m thinking you lied to me about needing Fred to fix a faucet. A plumber’s truck never parked in front of your house—or anyone else, for that matter.”
“I told the plumber to park in the alley.” I hoped my reignited guilt didn’t show despite my great answer to her unexpected question. As always, one cover-up leads to another.
“Oh.”
“Sounds like you don’t believe me.”
“I might not.” She held her chin high, peering down her nose at me.
I controlled my laughter and asked, “Why?”
“Because you’ve been acting weird as hell lately. And for your information, I did go out and tend to business.”
“Odd way to admit to having a cigarette.”
Her eyes seemed lively, pupils bright like she was having fun at my expense. She couldn’t have already talked with Dean. If she had, she was a master at covering up. One thing for sure, I didn’t want her to know I told him to meet her here—at least not until he talked to her about her daughter.
The sudden rumble and tumble of bingo balls hitting the sides of their Plexiglas box caused every person in the room to straighten. Their attention shot to the bingo caller perched on a stool beside the bouncing balls. The man’s pleasant voice carried over the sounds of the balls and the voices of the crowd. “Are you ready to start?” He spied Edgy and me. “I see we have a couple of new gals. Has it been a while since you’ve played?’
Edgy nodded at me like I didn’t know what I was doing. “Long time for her,” she said, loud enough to carry over the crowd.
He patiently explained, “The first game is called the Letter M. Look at the monitor beside the letter board. It’ll show you how to bingo on each game.” He pointed to the front wall. “We start with the three-game purple sheet.”
Autotronic Bingo King was printed down a wide plastic arrow pointing to a monitor displaying a bingo card. Each square held a bulb. The shape of a letter M flashed red.
I leaned near Edgy’s ear. “I had no idea there were so many different ways to make a bingo. All I remember is straight or diagonal lines.”
She looked at me as if wondering just how dumb I was, then gently said, “Just daub the numbers he calls. You’ll get the hang of it.” She looked down at the sheet of bingo paper, dauber ready to strike.
“I didn’t know you played.”
“Sometimes I need places to go when I can’t stand being home one more minute.” She nodded over her shoulder toward the people behind us. “This crowd is pretty tame.”
“O-63.”
I daubed red on O-63.
“B-4.”
The number wasn’t on my card. Motion at the door quickly drew attention. A guy entered, but not Dean. He was short, elderly, and hurried to sit by a woman I assumed was his wife. She frowned at him and hunkered closer to the card in front of her.
Game after different game proceeded under the steady calling of numbers and the yelps of winners. The stoic middle-aged gal at the end of our table won twice without a word of excitement. Her frown didn’t go away when she grabbed the payoff and stuffed it deep into a bag on her lap.
I waited for Dean with the worst case of apprehension, glancing at the clock again and again. At seven thirty, there still was no sign of him. Maybe that was a good thing. He should have just told Fred why he wanted to talk with Edgy. They could have all sat down and discussed it together. She absolutely had to know about her daughter. If he never showed up, we’d have to locate him. It was dumb on my part for not getting his phone number or where he was staying.
Edgy stared at me. “What the hell is bugging you?”
The other woman at our table looked at her, frowning.
“A-6.”
“Shh,” I whispered to Edgy. ‘You’re attracting attention.
“Don’t shush me. Something is bugging you, and it’s driving me bonkers.” Her face had tightened, and anger glittered in her eyes. “Damn, you made me miss a number. Who cares if people look.”
A couple at the table across from us looked our way.
“Calm down,” I said. “People are staring at us.”
Edgy looked at her bingo sheet like nothing had happened, but I could tell she was more than miffed. In fact, she seemed too angry over such a small thing. I studied her profile, and I could swear her eyes too wide open. “Look at me,” I hissed.
Edgy blinked at me. “What?”
“You’re high.”
“I am not.” She kept her attention glued on the bingo sheet.
At eight o’clock, the caller announced a short break to use the facilities and invited the players to help ourselves to coffee or water. I couldn’t get out of the chair quick enough. I needed to pace, throw a fit, or cry. Dean should’ve been here by now. And then of all things, I had to wait in line to dr
ain coffee from a pressure carafe into a stoneware cup. I wanted to scream.
A familiar looking woman turned after filling her cup. Ida Praveck. My neighbor’s eyes lit up, and she broke into a wide grin. I couldn’t very well duck out of sight. The small crowd parted like the Red Sea as she passed through in her royal blue pants suit with her soft, freshly permed white hair, holding her cup steady.
She said loudly enough for those around to overhear, “Corinne, that was one handsome man you were spooning with on the garden bench this afternoon.”
“I saw you watching from your deck. I was just having a little chat.”
She grinned. “No woman just chitchats with a man that looks like that.”
“I would’ve introduced you, but he was in a hurry.” No way in hell did I want her to meet him until after he talked to Edgy.
“Well, next time,” Ida said. “But I have to say, he looked like he had all the time in the world.”
Thankfully, the line moved. “We’ll talk tomorrow, and I’ll tell you all about him.”
She giggled with excitement and crossed to the table where Mr. Praveck sat waiting.
I finally drew my refill and turned to carry the drink back to our table. Edgy was not in her chair. I browsed the room to see if she had wandered off to visit with some of the patrons.
No sign of her.
She’d probably gone to the ladies’ room.
The balls rumbled against their case. The caller asked if we were ready to begin. He was answered by the scrape of chairs squaring up and the shuffle of bingo papers.
His voice called, “I-21.”
I daubed Edgy’s and my cards.
“N-36.”
I daubed quickly and scanned the room again. The only thing I could figure was that Dean must have shown up while I was busy with Ida and Edgy went outside with him. No way would I interrupt their discussion about her daughter. Hard as it was, I remained seated.
Ten more minutes slid away under the voice of the bingo caller.
“Bingo,” yelled Ida from the back of the room. She patted her chest, waiting for the bingo to be verified, and then clutched her winnings like a pot of gold. She waved the bills in my direction.
I couldn’t stand much more.
The wall clock read 8:26. Edgy had been gone for almost thirty minutes. I pushed away from the table and shoved through the door. If I interrupted her talk with Dean, so be it. I had waited long enough to see how she was handling the news about her daughter, her little Ruthie. Naming her unseen child must have hurt to depths I couldn’t understand.
Lord, Lord. Keep Edgy safe.
Cars filled the parking area, but I saw no one. I scanned every nook and cranny, even checked the cloudless sky, for Pete’s sake. The sun had lowered and was just above the western mountains. Disgusted with myself for feeling panicky, I raised my face to the mild, dry air. A westerly wind disturbed the tall, scraggly evergreens. A stronger gust surged. Dusty, dry needles and pine cones released and fell. We really did need rain. The warmth in the swirling currents brought me a little clarity. The moment of trying to calm down had worked.
Edgy knew how to handle herself and wasn’t accountable to me, but she would never leave me sitting at a bingo table this long. I hurried to the south side of the building. No one. A vehicle started, and a white truck like Dean’s pulled out of the parking lot, but I was too far away to tell if the disappearing license plate was Montana or Colorado.
I left the side of the building, moving toward the north to check another parking lot. I crossed the blacktop and came to a sharp decline, almost a drop-off.
Below me, something lay between two spruce trees. A woman? I squinted downward in the shadowy light.
Edgy?
No response. “Edgy!” I shrieked. She must have fallen.
I stepped off the edge, slipping and skidding downward. I tripped on a clump of quack grass and hit the ground hard with my right knee. I caught my balance with my palm and kept charging downward. My stupid sling purse snagged on a dead tree limb. I shook free and kept scrabbling. I finally dropped down beside her. Sharp pine cones dug into my knees. I shoved them away.
Edgy’s hair swept around her face. I brushed it back. She appeared to be asleep, mouth slack, eyes closed, lipstick perfect. I touched her pale cheek and quickly withdrew my hand.
There is no other sensation like the touch of lifelessness. I had experienced it when I’d held Mel, Mom and Dad, the child I’d lost. Edgy was no longer here.
“No, no, no.” I pulled her into my arms. Her head lolled and smeared blood on the front of my shirt. I carefully resettled her on the ground. So much blood. I wiped my palms on my pant legs.
Motor noise from the roadway below rumbled with the sound of an expensive hopped-up car, much like the sound of Randal’s Corvette. I couldn’t see the vehicle, but I jumped up, waving my arms overhead.
The sound of the motor disappeared.
Quickly, I fumbled in my purse for my cell phone. I clutched it and tapped 9-1-1.
Two rings.
A woman’s no-nonsense voice answered.
I fought to control my emotions. “My friend fell down a hill, and she’s not moving. Her head is at an awful angle. I need help now.”
“Location.”
“Millie’s off the KM Road.”
“I’m dispatching deputies from the Flathead County Sheriff’s Office now. They’ll be there in a few minutes. Stay on the line and talk to me. What is your friend’s name?”
“Edwina Brewster. I think she’s dead.” A sob broke free. I bent forward resting my head on my knees, sitting as close to Edgy as I could get.
“An ambulance has been dispatched,” said the steady voice I’ll never forget. “Give me your exact location so I can direct them to where you are.”
“There’s a steep hill on the north side of Millie’s, and we’re in a hollow between two trees near the bottom of it.” The words sounded strange, even to me. Edgy died in a pine needle-lined dip in the ground. Unbelievable.
“Try to remain calm. I’ll be back in a moment.”
The line sounded open, but I couldn’t hear anything, and then she said, “Okay I told the deputies where to find you. Talk to me.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Just talk,” she said. “It takes a little while to reach your location.”
She did most of the talking. I couldn’t put words together until I said, “I hear the faint sounds of sirens.”
“And?”
“They’re getting louder. I see lights flashing at the top of the hill. The deputies are here.”
“You can hang up now.”
I never should have. As long as she talked, I had stayed somewhat stable. Now, cold tremors hit my legs, arms, and chest. I gasped, trying to breathe normally, but all I wanted was to curl up against Edgy and hold on until she came back.
Suddenly, five deputies surrounded us. They were alert, ready to react if need be. One dropped on his knees on the other side of Edgy and checked her neck for a pulse. He shook his head.
Another one bent over me where I was cuddled against her. “I’m Deputy Tabor. Can you tell me what happened?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. We were playing bingo, and she went outside for a cigarette. When she didn’t come back, I came out to see what she was doing. I found her here and called nine-one-one. She hasn’t moved or anything.”
“You’ll need to get up and give us room. Paramedics will be here soon.” He reached down and gripped my hand and pulled me up. I wobbled. “We’d better sit you down. Let’s go over to the fallen log for now.”
As he led me to the log, two EMTs skidded down the hill and knelt beside Edgy. One snapped on gloves and checked for a pulse in her neck.
I bit my bottom lip.
The EMT also shook his head. “Better call Sheriff Metcalf.”
That’s when I knew for certain that my fun, sassy friend was truly gone.
Edgy would never know her
daughter.
Chapter 9
I wasn’t about to leave the safety of the log where Deputy Tabor had told me to wait for the sheriff’s arrival. The rough bark under me seemed the only true thing as the scene played out before my dry, watchful eyes. I hardly blinked, making sure the deputies properly secured the barrier of yellow crime scene tape. It flapped in the late evening breeze as they ran it from tree trunk to tree trunk to tree trunk, safeguarding the area where Edgy lay. I stiffened, heat prickling my neck. Why didn’t they cover her? She was a private person, and her remains were, too. I stood up to protest, but Deputy Tabor was instantly beside me.
“Please sit back down.”
As I did, I noticed a group of people standing at the top of the hill, talking to an officer. Ida was among them. She nodded to me and left. I wanted to run up and drag her down to sit with me, but she would never be allowed to. Instinctively, I understood I would be kept separate from the other card players while the officers investigated the scene.
My agitation grew in my need to protect my friend. Even in death, she would be treated right. We’d had each other’s backs for so long; I couldn’t imagine losing the security of her friendship. I looked up the hill again. The sheriff should be here by now. How much longer? And who knew why the paramedics had gathered over there by a chain-link fence? Did I hear one of them laughing? Not knowing what was going on left me in a vacuum of uncertainty with no control over what would happen next. The hoot of a night owl came from the branches above. Something rustled in the bushes behind. I ignored the sounds of animals scavenging for food. Nothing could hurt more than what was unfolding before me.
I leaned forward, putting my hands on my knees. The right knee hurt and felt sticky. My pant leg was stuck to my skin, and I pulled the torn fabric away. Blood ran and smeared from a gouge below the kneecap. It was already caking on my shin. I checked my palms. Skinned and raw. Other than that, I seemed okay. Nothing seemed broken. The fall could have caused worse injuries. I hesitated to count it lucky. Nothing about this night was good.
Blame the Car Ride Page 7