Hanging Falls

by Margaret Mizushima

  “I see,” Mattie said. “Tell me, do you know anything about Luke getting beat up in town?”

  Tears trickled from Hannah’s eyes, and she wiped them with her father’s handkerchief. “He didn’t really get beat up. One guy held him while another punched him in the stomach. Luke said it was nothing, but I could tell he considered it a warning.”

  “A warning? About what?”

  “About being different, I guess. Luke said some people are frightened by others being different, and these two men wanted him to stay out of their bar.” She glanced at her father again, a child checking in on her parent’s reaction. “Luke said it was a bar. I’ve never been there.”

  Mattie smiled gently. “The Watering Hole in Timber Creek?”

  “I think so.”

  “Did he say if one of the two men who jumped him was Quinn Randolph or Parker Tate?”

  Hannah’s reddened eyes widened. “You know that Parker guy?”

  “I’ve never met him, but it’s a name I’ve heard before. I don’t know for certain that it’s the man Luke warned you about. I’m just checking to see if he’s someone Luke mentioned that was connected to this fight.”

  “No, Luke didn’t know the two guys, although he said he’d seen them before at the bar.”

  Great … two more unknown persons of interest to track down. A trip to the Watering Hole might give them a lead. Mattie knew the bartender there. She looked at Stella. “Any more questions, Detective?”

  “Hannah, did you and Luke talk about his past, like his family or friends from back home?” Stella asked.

  “Yes, he liked to talk about his mom and dad. It was different for him to be in a big family like ours, since he was an only kid.”

  “Did he ever say anything that would make you think he had enemies from his past? Someone who might have followed him here to hurt him?”

  “No. He never said anything like that.” Hannah’s eyes spilled tears that wet her cheeks, which she mopped up with the balled-up handkerchief. “I think he had a happy life.”

  “Thank you, Hannah. You’ve been a great help,” Stella said, reaching into her trouser pocket to extract a business card and then placing it on the table. “If any of you think of anything that might help us, please don’t hesitate to call me. Day or night.”

  “Do you think we’re in any danger, Detective?” Ruth asked, her brow puckered with concern. “Are the children safe?”

  Stella’s brow lowered with concern as well. “Do you have any reason to suspect that you or anyone else here might be in danger?”

  “No,” Solomon said, looking at his wife, reaching for her hand, which she met halfway and clasped in hers. “I don’t think danger threatens the rest of us, Ruth.”

  “Mrs. Vaughn,” Stella said. “Have you felt threatened?”

  “Not since we moved here,” Ruth said, clinging to Solomon’s hand. “But, well … in other places.”

  “We have been threatened before,” Solomon said, “but we thought we would be safe living here. Perhaps Luke brought this on himself by venturing outside.”

  “No, Father,” Hannah interjected. “Luke didn’t ask to be killed. He did nothing wrong.”

  Solomon frowned. “That’s not what I meant, Hannah. He brought attention to himself, and perhaps that placed him in harm’s way.”

  “We can’t live isolated from others all the time.”

  “Enough. We’ll discuss this later.”

  The interchange had been quick and intense, and it seemed like the argument could have been familiar territory for father and daughter. Mattie believed sheltering a teenager to this degree must be arduous work for both parents.

  Stella leaned forward. “To answer your question, Mrs. Vaughn, I can’t tell you for certain that your family is safe from future harm, because we don’t have a full grasp on how or why Luke died yet. I don’t think there’s further danger, but it’s always best to err on the side of caution. Please keep an eye out for any unusual traffic going by your place, cars that stop out on the road nearby, that sort of thing. And don’t hesitate to call the sheriff’s department if you have concerns of any kind.”

  Ruth’s eyes were fixed on Stella. “Thank you, Detective.”

  Mattie took two of her business cards from her pocket and placed one next to Stella’s on the table. She handed the other directly to Hannah. “Hannah,” she said, waiting for the girl to make eye contact. “If you think of anything to help us find Luke’s killer, please call me. And if you need help in any way, let me know. This card has my cell phone number written on the back, and you can call me anytime. Okay?”

  Hannah nodded as she reached for the card.

  “That goes for the rest of you too, Mrs. Vaughn.” Mattie flipped the card on the table over to show her cell number. “Feel free to share this with the others. We’re here to assure the safety of law-abiding citizens.”

  Mattie didn’t completely understand the way of life these people had chosen, but as long as they weren’t breaking any laws, it was her duty not to judge them but to protect them. And if any of them did break the law, it was also her duty to ferret that out. She hoped to get a chance to visit with Hannah alone, just to make certain the girl didn’t feel threatened by her father or any of the other Brothers of Salvation.

  “We need to move along and speak with the Grayson family,” Mattie said.

  “Let me show you to their home,” Solomon said.

  “I know where they live, but thank you anyway.”

  After Mattie and Stella left the house, closing the door behind them, Stella murmured her impressions in a soft voice meant only for Mattie. “She’s the BFF. And her information leads us back to the drug rep and farrier. I’m going to contact Brody to see if he can rope those two guys in to the station so we can interview them there. Save us some time.”

  Stella dialed her phone as they walked to the Grayson trailer, while Mattie glanced at hers to check the time. Her stomach did a flip-flop as she realized there were only about four hours left before her family’s arrival, and she still had a lot of work to do.

  EIGHTEEN

  Cole was stirring creamer into his coffee in the kitchen, wondering what chores around his place he should tackle this Sunday morning, when Angela strolled in.

  “Hey, Dad,” she said, heading for the refrigerator.

  The greeting was music to his ears. It was the first time she’d acknowledged him without prompting in the past two weeks. He leaned against the counter in a posture that said he had all the time in the world to talk. “Hey. How are you doing this morning?”

  “Good.” She rummaged until she found a plastic container filled with slices of cantaloupe. “I thought I’d call Hannah and see if Riley and I can go out to see the kittens today.”

  Though he hated to put the kibosh on anything Angela wanted, he thought of Luke Ferguson, the dead man who’d been a part of Hannah’s community. He felt like he was venturing into a field of land mines with this conversation, so he needed to tread lightly. “Sounds like fun. But I wonder if you might postpone that for a few days.”

  Angie frowned as she opened the container and arranged cantaloupe slices in neat lines on a plate, using her index finger to push them delicately into place in a pattern that evidently only she could imagine. “Why would we postpone it?”

  He might as well be honest. “One of the people who lived out there with Hannah has been killed recently, and that concerns me. You know … my obsession with keeping you and everyone in my family safe kicks in. I can’t help myself.”

  Angela gave him a long look before reaching for the saltshaker and lightly sprinkling salt along the length of each slice. Cole loved watching Angie fix her plate, something she always turned into an art form.

  “O—kay,” she said, drawing out the word with teenage skepticism.

  “But … I don’t want to interfere with your plans.” Cole was already kicking himself for throwing a monkey wrench into his whole day with what he was about to of
fer. “If Hannah says you can come over, I could go out with you and check on that horse. I’d stay out at the barn and visit with the guys while you girls spend some time together.”

  Angela gave him another one of her looks, one slender eyebrow raised, as she reached for a butter knife to cut a small bite. “Don’t you have other things to do?”

  “You know I’ve always got chores to do around here, but I’d rather take some time off and spend it with you.”

  Angela scoffed. “You mean as a bodyguard.”

  “Maybe.” Cole shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”

  Angela cut a few bites, arranged them into a circle, and then chose one to spear with her fork and place in her mouth. “I’ll call Hannah and see what time we can come. Then we’ll talk.”

  Feeling like he’d navigated this minefield pretty well, Cole decided to agree and retreat. “I need to go out to feed the animals. Just give me a call when you know what time you want to go.”

  Angie nodded and, carrying her plate with her, turned to head upstairs to her room, just as Sophie passed her coming through the doorway. She’d been in the den watching TV and must have overheard part of their conversation. “Where you guys going?”

  “None of your business,” Angie called from the stairs, her back turned as she climbed.

  Evidently Sophie let the comment roll off her shoulders, as she ventured farther into the kitchen to question Cole. “Where are you going?”

  It was too bad that Angie had felt the need to take a shot at her sister, but under the circumstances, Cole believed he had to pick his battles with his eldest and not reprimand her this time. “Angie and Riley want to go out to visit Hannah.” He didn’t dare mention the kittens. “And I have a horse to check out there, so I thought I’d take them.”

  “Can I go too?” Sophie was using that tone that was one step away from wheedling and could get on his nerves pretty fast. It was not something he wanted to encourage by giving in.

  “Not this time. But do you want to go outside with me now to feed the chickens?”

  “Okay,” she said, apparently willing to be diverted. “But I’m hungry.”

  “They are too. Let’s get the animals fed, and I’ll come back inside and make you some scrambled eggs.”

  “Mrs. Gibbs said she’d make pancakes for brunch,” Sophie said. “After she sleeps in. She said she has a book she wants to read in bed for a little while.”

  Their housekeeper was somewhere in her sixties and was typically the first one up in the morning, although Cole had told her to take it easy on the weekends countless times. He was glad that she was finally willing to do so on this rare occasion. “That all sounds great. She needs to get a chance to relax on the weekend too, don’t you think? And pancakes! After we feed the chickens, you can have some fruit to tide you over until brunch.”

  Sophie grinned at him in agreement and went to find her shoes. Cole called the dogs, and together they all headed out to walk down the lane that led past their house to the clinic. He and Sophie chatted about all sorts of things while they filled the feeder in the chicken pen and replenished the water. Sophie was gathering eggs when his cell phone rang in his pocket.

  It was Angie, and he connected the call. “City zoo.”

  She ignored his attempt at humor, speaking in a rush as if upset. “Hannah’s mom almost didn’t let me talk to her, but Hannah must have been there and convinced her to let us talk. She was crying. That man you said was killed? Hannah says he was her boyfriend.”

  “Her boyfriend?”

  “Yeah. She was whispering, like she didn’t want anyone to hear her.”

  “Huh.” Cole didn’t know what to say. Hannah was only fifteen, and he thought the dead man had been at least twenty. Not a huge difference in years but a big gap in maturity.

  “Hannah wants me and Riley to come out.”

  “Did she say when?”

  “After they eat lunch. About one.”

  “I definitely want to go with you, Angel. Mrs. Gibbs is going to fix a late breakfast, but I’ll get it started. If you want, invite Riley to join us for pancakes at around ten. You could go pick her up.”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  As Cole disconnected the phone, he patted himself on the back for parenting on the fly. He’d come a long way since Liv had left him alone in the trenches last summer, and someone had to acknowledge his progress. Even if he had to do it himself.

  * * *

  Mattie’s cell phone signaled a text as she and Stella were walking to the Grayson home. It was from Cole, and the content confirmed her supposition. “Angela just heard from Hannah that it was her boyfriend that was killed,” she told the detective.

  “That seals it.” Stella gave her a gratified look. “Now, let’s turn our attention to the family Luke lived with. Then we’ll see where we go from there.”

  When Mattie knocked on the trailer door, Ephraim Grayson opened it immediately, his wife Rachel standing just behind him in the kitchen. “May we come in, Mr. Grayson?” Mattie said, stepping close to the threshold. “We’d like to talk to the adults in your family, including Abel, if we could.”

  “Certainly,” Ephraim said, holding the door wide. “Isaac told us you had a positive identification of Luke. We’re stunned, but we want to help in whatever way we can.”

  Mattie introduced Stella as they passed through the door into the kitchen. Rachel retreated toward the counter, her hands clasped in front, her eyes red as though she’d been crying. The succulent scent of roasting meat filled the small space, making Mattie’s mouth water. She assumed Sunday luncheon was being prepared in all of the kitchens in the compound.

  After Mattie greeted the woman, she said, “I’m sorry to bring such bad news. You have our sympathy for your loss.”

  Rachel dipped her head in acknowledgment and then met Mattie’s gaze as she spoke. “We sheltered Luke and took him in as our son for the short time he was with us. We continued to hope that you would discover he wasn’t the person who’d been killed. This is very sad news for us and our entire family.”

  Mattie assumed she meant everyone in the Brothers of Salvation. Stella stepped forward to extend her condolences, giving Mattie an opportunity to scan the living room. The sewing table and machine were still set up by the window, the empty playpen sat in the corner, and books were piled on the sofa, but there were no other people to be seen.

  “We would like to speak with Naomi and Abel now too,” Mattie said to Rachel. “Could you ask them to join us?”

  Ephraim turned to stride across the living room toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. “I’ll get them,” he said over his shoulder to Rachel. “Leah and Abigail can watch the younger children.”

  “Are there any other adults living here with you, Mrs. Grayson?” Mattie asked.

  Rachel shook her head. “No, just my sister, Naomi. And of course Abel … he’s an adult now.”

  “Is the girl who was here yesterday reading a book to the children Leah or Abigail?”

  “That must have been Leah. Abigail was at the Taylors’ house for a reading lesson.”

  “Is she younger than Leah?”

  “That’s right.”

  Mattie needed to assure herself that Leah wasn’t Ephraim’s wife. “And are both girls your daughters?”

  Rachel answered without hesitation. “They are.”

  Ephraim reentered the living room with Naomi and Abel following. Mattie said hello and introduced them to Stella.

  Like Rachel, Naomi looked as if she’d been crying, but Abel looked solemn and stoic. They all stood while Mattie grew uncomfortable waiting for an invitation to sit.

  After an awkward moment, Stella took the matter into her own hands. “May we sit, Mrs. Grayson?”

  Ephraim was the one who responded. “By all means.”

  After they settled into chairs, Stella explained their need to gather what information they could about Luke. She began with the standard question of whether they knew anyone who mig
ht have wanted to harm him. After they all murmured denials, Stella turned to Abel. “Did Luke tell you about the incident he had with the men in town?”

  “When he got jumped outside the bar?” Abel asked, his face turning red, perhaps because he hadn’t mentioned it himself when asked if someone might have meant Luke harm.

  “That’s right,” Stella said. “What did he say about it?”

  “Just that the guys were bigots.”

  “Did he know who they were or describe them to you?”

  “He didn’t know them, but he said it was two old guys and they weren’t serious about hurting him. They just wanted to make a point, and it didn’t sit right with him to be judged by his clothing.” Abel’s blush had receded to his neck, and he now looked more comfortable engaging with Stella. “I told him to get used to it.”

  “So I take it that your manner of dress was new to Luke?”

  Abel nodded. “He hadn’t been raised in our ways.” He folded his arms and stared at his father, and the look on his face made Mattie wonder if he himself disagreed with some of the ways he’d been raised in.

  Ephraim returned his son’s stare for a few beats before looking at Stella. “Luke became unhappy living here. I think all of us were aware of that to some extent. We weren’t surprised when he told us he’d decided to go home.”

  “Let me clarify something, Abel,” Stella interjected. “What point did these two old guys want to make?”

  “They didn’t like people like us coming to Timber Creek. They didn’t like the way we dress, and they didn’t like the way we live.”

  “The way you live? What did they mean by that?” Stella asked.

  Abel stared at the detective a moment before answering, his face filled with what looked like suppressed anger. “You would have to ask them that question. I don’t know the answer.”