Return to Crutcher Mountain (Cedar Hollow Series Book 2)

by Clayton, Melinda

  “I’m sorry to hear about his wife,” I said, and I was. “I’m not sure what to make of him, though. He definitely didn’t show his good side this morning.” I did feel bad for him, and I was glad the men had shared that information with me. It at least provided a possible explanation for his behavior.

  Dennis removed his wallet from his back pocket and counted out money to pay their bill. “No, he hasn’t been showing a good side recently, that’s for sure,” he said. “I’ve got my eye on him, Jessie, but I don’t think he’ll bother you. He’s a lot of talk. Piss and vinegar, as they say, but I doubt he’s got the time or the energy right now to do much more than talk.”

  He replaced his wallet. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve got to get back to work. You take care, Jessie. Nice to meet you, Michael, and always good to see you, John. Give your mother my best.”

  We stood to tell them goodbye. I gave Dennis a quick hug. “Thanks for keeping an eye on him. You have my cell number if you need to reach me.”

  “I do,” he assured me. “It’s programmed in. And I’ll call if I hear anything you need to worry about.”

  We settled ourselves back around the table as Kay came over with some menus. “John, Jessie, I wondered when you’d stop by. And who’s the handsome young man?”

  “Kay Langley, meet Michael Bell,” I introduced them. “He’s a friend of mine from L.A.” Michael stood to shake Kay’s hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Michael. Any friend of Jessie’s is a friend of ours. What can I get you folks?” Kay stood with pen poised over her order pad.

  “What we’d really like is your time, if that’s possible, Kay. Mom fed us enough lunch to last a week. If we promise to come back for dinner, can we borrow you for a minute?” John stood and pulled out a chair.

  “I got a minute, sure. It’d be good to get off these poor old feet of mine for a bit. Riva!” She yelled over to the bar. “Bring all of us a coke, would you? Now,” she settled herself in a chair with a grateful sigh and stretched her feet in front of her, “what can I do for you?”

  “Kay,” I began, “you’re about the age my mother would be, aren’t you?”

  She looked at me curiously. “I don’t reckon you mean Billy May, though she’s the one I always thought of as your mother. You mean Lindy, of course.” She smoothed her apron over her lap and we waited while Riva set our drinks in front of us.

  When Riva left, Kay continued. “We were about the same age, but I didn’t know her very well. Roy kept her up there on that mountain, you know. She wasn’t never allowed to come in the diner or nothin’ like that. Saw her in Mr. Smith’s store every now and then. Pretty woman, but worn down lookin’. Unhappy, of course, but who wouldn’t have been? Momma always felt sorry for her, said Roy was mean as a snake, which he was. Why do you ask, honey?”

  Instead of answering her question right away, I asked another. “Do you know the Huffmans, Richard and Opal, working up at the Lodge? He’s the groundskeeper and she does housekeeping.”

  “I do. Nice enough couple. Come in on the weekends, after the children have gone home. Kind of keep to themselves, sit back in the corner booth there. I always thought it was kind of sweet, like a date night for ’em, you know? Now I’ll say it again; why do you ask?”

  “I promise I’ll explain it all in a minute, but one more question first.” I glanced at John, seeking reassurance. He nodded for me to continue as Michael sat quietly. I wondered how much about my past Michael had figured out at this point. Probably most of it. I turned back to Kay. “Does Opal look like my mother to you? Does she look like Lindy might now, after all these years?”

  That got Kay’s attention. “Pshaw. Uh-uh. No. Not at all. Not even a tiny little bit. She’s a whole lot shorter, for one thing. Totally different lookin’ woman. What in the world would give you that idea?”

  Michael handed me the picture Robby had drawn and I spread it on the table in front of Kay. “Robby O’Brien drew this for me. He drew the Huffmans and labeled them as my parents, see? I’ve had the feeling they’ve been watching me since I got to the Lodge, and I’m pretty sure they were in my room while I was out. They took my toothbrush. I know how crazy this all sounds. I can’t make sense of it, either. Why would Robby have drawn this?”

  Kay pulled the picture closer. “Robby drew this, huh? How is my little sweetheart? I wondered where he’d been. I miss him and Raymond comin’ in. Used to come in every Wednesday. You tell him Ms. Kay said she misses him and he needs to come by and see me. I’ll have a milkshake waitin’.”

  She adjusted her glasses and held the paper up to the light. “He did a good job, didn’t he? That does look like ’em. But honey I don’t know why he thinks they’re your parents. Opal ain’t the same woman as Lindy, I can promise you that, even after all these years.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “Kay, do you know where my mother ended up? Where did she go?” I wasn’t sure why I’d asked, other than that I hoped it was far away from anywhere I was likely to be.

  “Honey, I don’t know as any of us knew for sure where she left to, but you remember she run off with that railroad man. Rumor was they was goin’ to Arizona, but I don’t know if it was true. Far as I know, no one around here ever heard from her again.” She hoisted herself to her feet with a groan.

  “Now let me get back to work before Andrew comes lookin’ for me,” she said. “Give him the diner and all of a sudden he thinks he runs the place.” She smiled fondly at the mention of her son.

  “Is the Sheriff coming by today, Kay?” John asked.

  “If he don’t, it’ll be the first time in a decade that he didn’t. Should be here within the next ten minutes or so. You want me to send him over?”

  “Please,” John answered. “If you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind, honey.” Kay straightened her apron and replaced the chair. “Y'all are a regular group of sleuths, ain’t you? When y'all find out the answers to everythin’, I’ll be lookin’ forward to hearin’ ’em.” She patted John on the head before returning to the kitchen.

  She’d no sooner disappeared through the double doors than Sheriff Moore’s cruiser pulled into the lot.

  Chapter 25

  I had never met Sheriff Moore before, and he looked nothing like I’d pictured him. Maybe I’d come to expect small town sheriffs to look like Officer Wimbley, the out of shape, befuddled deputy that had patrolled Cedar Hollow throughout my childhood. At any rate, Sheriff Moore looked anything but out of shape or befuddled.

  The man was huge, well over six feet, and clearly a fan of the gym. His biceps strained at the hems in the sleeves of his uniform and the buttons of his shirt were clearly stressed against the bulk of his chest. His hair was buzzed short in a flattop, his face square. Even his jaw muscles were pronounced. As Kay directed him to our table, we slid our chairs closer together to give him more room. Vaguely, I wondered if his thigh muscles would fit under the table.

  “Nice,” John murmured, “very nice.” I punched him on the leg while Michael stifled a chuckle beside me. “Behave, John. We have work to do.” I shot him a warning glare.

  Sheriff Moore crossed the room in three strides and pulled out a chair. “Kay says you folks wanted to see me. What can I do for you?”

  His voice was deep and pleasant, also not what I’d expected, and his eyes were a piercing blue. I’d pegged him as a backwards sort, someone who blamed fires on little boys with an autistic disorder. Someone who couldn’t be bothered with conducting a thorough investigation into the frightening incidents at a retreat for children with disabilities. I found his appearance at odds with my preconceived ideas, but appearances could be deceiving.

  I held out my hand. “Sheriff Moore, I’m Jessica McIntosh.”

  His hand engulfed mine. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. McIntosh. How can I help you?”

  I was a little surprised he didn’t react to my name, but I continued. “I’m the owner of the mountain the Platte L
odge for Children is housed on. You’re investigating the fire that occurred there.”

  Sheriff Moore remained expressionless. “And?” he prompted.

  I was taken aback by his low keyed response. “And I’d like to know what progress you’ve made. Nora tells me you’ve pretty much written Virgil Young off as a suspect. I understand he has alibis for the day the office was trashed and the day the fire was set, but have you checked his alibi for the day the horses were let go? Or the day the chemicals were spilled? I’m assuming you’ve at least checked for fingerprints in all those places. He’s a very angry man, Sheriff. Isn’t it possible he had an accomplice?”

  Sheriff Moore regarded me evenly. “Ms. McIntosh, with all due respect, I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics with you. I’m sure you understand. We’re in the middle of an investigation. Why don’t you just tell me your concerns.” His face remained impassive, his voice pleasant.

  I felt my anger rise. “My concern is that all these things have happened in a matter of a few weeks. You’ve had ample time to check for fingerprints and follow up on leads, but you don’t seem to have done those things. How dare you try to pin these things on an eleven year old boy with autism? Nora told me what you said. You should be ashamed.” Beside me, Michael squeezed my leg, meaning, I’m sure, to calm me down, but I was on a roll.

  “Is it because it’s a program for children with disabilities? Is that why it’s apparently been moved to the bottom of your list of things to do? What about the note that was addressed to me? Have you had it tested for fingerprints yet?” I fired the questions off without waiting for answers.

  The man was immovable. “Ms. McIntosh, I can assure you nothing’s been moved to the bottom of my list of things to do. We take all of our cases very seriously. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you. Now, if you’ll excuse me....”

  “Wait a minute! Can you at least do a drive by tomorrow afternoon around one o’clock?” I asked. “Mr. Young is coming to view the books. He feels he was shortchanged in his pay. I don’t know what you know about him, or what you’ve discovered in your investigation, but don’t you think it might be a good idea for you to at least be in the area when he comes tomorrow?”

  “I’ll make sure to do that,” he said. “Now, I really need to go.”

  I couldn’t believe it, but the man actually stood and tossed a business card on the table before walking away. He nodded at Kay and exited the diner, backing away in his patrol car and heading out of town while the three of us stared after him.

  Chapter 26

  I tried to use my drive up the mountain as a cooling off period. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a long drive, and I’m known to have a hot temper. How dare he brush me off like that? Such an arrogant man. I parked outside Nora’s office and barged in without knocking. She looked up from the pile of papers on her desk, surprised.

  “Jessie?” She scooped the papers aside and motioned for me to sit down. “Are you okay?”

  “I see what you mean about an impasse.” I flopped into the chair and told her about my meeting with Sheriff Moore.

  When I’d finished ranting, she gave me a wry smile. “So now you see what I’m up against. Not a lot of investment on his part, is there? I suppose all I can do is keep after him, but I don’t have much hope he’ll ever come up with anything.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow,” I reminded her. “You’ll have to keep me posted on what he finds out, if anything. Looks like my trip here was wasted, doesn’t it? Why would someone insist I come, and then not contact me once I’m here? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I wish I knew the answers, Jessie. But I wouldn’t say your time was wasted. You seem to have really enjoyed yourself up here with the kids.”

  “That’s true.” I thought about it. “I have enjoyed myself.” And I really had. I almost dreaded leaving, but I had a life I had to get back to. Unfortunately, it was becoming more and more clear to me that I didn’t especially like the life I needed to get back to.

  After spending so much time in Cedar Hollow enjoying the mountains, seeing old friends, and most especially, working with the kids, I was more disgusted than ever with the artificial glitter and superficial drama of Hollywood. Here, kids were dealing with daily challenges, real challenges. There, forgetting to stock a dressing room with precisely chilled bottled water could trigger a self-important actress into a full-fledged tantrum. It was hard to imagine returning to that.

  “Oh, by the way,” I fished Robby’s drawing out of my pocket, “the mystery of the Huffmans deepens.”

  She unfolded the picture and smoothed it on her desk.

  “What do you make of it?” I asked.

  “More importantly, what do you make of it?” She put on her glasses and peered at the drawing.

  I sighed. I should have known that would be her response. Therapists never answer questions. “Well, I think it’s odd that Robby apparently thinks the Huffmans are my parents, don’t you? What could have given him that idea?”

  She looked up at me. “That’s certainly one interpretation of it. Another is that Robby is projecting his desires onto you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She folded the paper and handed it back to me. “Think about it, Jessie. He’s a lonely little boy. His home life has always been unstable. His father left the picture years ago and his mother has been, at best, inconsistent. He lost his grandmother a few months ago and his grandfather shortly after. What do you think Robby wants more than anything right now?”

  That was one of the easiest therapist’s questions I’d ever had to answer. “A family, of course.”

  “And he knows you want one, too.”

  “Now wait a minute....”

  Nora interrupted. “Just hear me out, Jessie. You’re in mourning, too. You recently lost your own mother figure and your biological relatives, as far as you know, are nonexistent. Robby assumes you feel the same way he does, so he drew you a family. The Huffmans are about the right age, so he probably unconsciously used them as a model.”

  I had to admit in some convoluted Freudian way that probably made some sense, but it didn’t feel right to me. “I understand what you’re saying, Nora, but I don’t know that I’m buying it.”

  Nora smiled. “I’d be surprised if you did. That would be totally out of character for you. By the way, speaking of Robby, he’s back from his visit with his caseworker. Still no success with a placement. For now, he’s going to have to go back to the temporary placement he was in before coming here.”

  My heart ached for the poor kid. “How’s he doing?”

  “Quiet. You know Robby. Refuses to talk about it. He did participate in equine therapy, so that’s good. They’re with Valerie now, from the library. He seemed to be enjoying story time when I glanced in. How could anyone not enjoy story time with Valerie? She’s a hoot.”

  I smiled. “She’s great, isn’t she? When I was a kid she seemed positively bohemian, with her peasant blouses and broomstick skirts. She’s done a lot for the town, that’s for sure. Did you know she was only supposed to be here for a semester, while she was in college? She liked it so much she talked her fiancé into staying. Hard to imagine someone working to stay in Cedar Hollow. Most people try to get out.”

  “Oh, now, Jessie, it’s a nice little town,” said Nora. “Admit it. It pulls at you.”

  “It does,” I admitted. “It’s home, whether I like it or not. But right now what’s pulling at me is a bunch of phone calls I need to return. I’ll see you at dinner?”

  “You will. I’ll be here late, as always.” Nora pulled the stack of papers back in front of her.

  “It’s a date, then. Leave your work at the office.”

  “Will do.”

  I let myself out and went to touch base with my assistant, whose calls I’d ignored for far too long.

  Chapter 27: Robby

  Hi it’s me Robby. Well we are listening to Mrs. Poindexter from the library read us a story except she isn’t just
reading it she is acting it out with puppets. It’s really cool. She has this one puppet that is supposed to be Greg Heffley like in Diary of a Wimpy Kid and it looks just like him with his hair sticking up and everything.

  Mrs. Poindexter is reading from Tuesday in the book when Greg starts middle school and she is making the puppets act it out and it is really funny. And then we have to stop every now and then and talk about bullying and stuff because that is what Greg is talking about in the book. I raised my hand a minute ago and talked about big stupid Ernie on the school bus.

  I can’t believe it but Mr. Paul was right because it was nice to talk about it and tell people about Ernie and it did make me stop feeling lonely about it. And Mrs. Poindexter and everyone really listened to me and they gave me good ideas about what to do.

  I will ask Mrs. Cortes to tell the bus driver to save me a seat behind him so I don’t have to go to the back of the bus where Ernie is. I will tell Mr. Paul he had a wonderful idea because he always tells me when I have wonderful ideas. I have them a lot. Mr. Paul only has them sometimes.

  Now Mrs. Poindexter is finished and telling all of us goodbye. I like her because she is really nice and funny but she is even older than Ms. McIntosh. There are a lot of old people around here but I guess that’s okay because they are nice.

  She is opening the door to leave and there is Ms. McIntosh! Mrs. Poindexter hugs Ms. McIntosh so I guess they know each other because you are NOT supposed to hug people you do not know. Mrs. Cortes says that is Stranger Danger and you are not ever ever ever supposed to let strangers hug you or touch you in Private Places. I learned all about it in a class she took me to.

  One time a man I did not know put his arm around me at church and I said, “STOP! DO NOT TOUCH ME! THAT IS STRANGER DANGER!” And it really worked because the man jumped very far away from me and then Grandpa came really fast and he said, “It’s okay, Robby. This is just Dennis Lane, Mr. Darryl’s son. He came back to town to run the store for a while. But you did a good thing, yelling like that. You did exactly what you were taught to do in that class. Good job, Robby.”