A crush happened when it happened. Besides, one got acquainted with a person pretty well cooped up together, 24/7.
Not fair, God!
Lily stopped arguing with herself and slid down on her knees. She fumbled through a prayer for wisdom, patience, and strength to do the right thing.
Five minutes later, she returned to the kitchen. Stewart stood at the window, staring out at the street. Forbes was helping Eunice. “No, ma’am. I’m sure the largest city in Sri Lanka is Colombo. No u.”
“Are you absolutely certain?” Eunice held the pencil and frowned. “I always spell Columbo with a u.”
“That’s the detective, not the city,” Stewart said, without turning around. “Used to be the capital, now they changed it to something unpronounceable.”
Forbes looked up when he noticed her in the doorway, relief written all over his face. “Lily? Ma’am?”
She plunked herself down across from him and folded her hands. “I’ve decided that since his mother is absent and our brother is incapacitated and our father is…unavailable, that I need to wait.”
When she met Forbes’s foreboding expression, she straightened her shoulders. “It’s just that Officer Deegan…you know, from the police? He said he was going to call around to see if he could figure out what happened to her, my sister. Can we wait a little longer? That’s what I’m asking for now.”
Forbes leaned back. Stewart turned toward them, an elbow cupped in one hand, the other hand across his mouth. His holster and weapon bulged under his jacket, reminding Lily of the stakes of all their choices. She dropped her eyes to study the sunlight glinting off the pimply white saltshaker.
The morning news on Eunice’s radio was winding up. With conversation quelled, Lily listened to a bouncy woman and a too-cheerful man dissect an interview with a judge. Something about the Supreme Court. In another life, Lily would have been interested in the news of the day, but right now, Kenny was all that mattered.
“You’re right!” Eunice said. “It’s not a u, after all. The cross word is promise. That fits. ‘Another word for pledge.’”
Forbes put his hand over Lily’s. Warm, but not comforting. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you and Kenny are safe.”
She looked at him, the determination in his dark, sad eyes. “But what if they already got Berta? What can you do to save her?”
* * *
Kenny wore his pouty face when Lily arrived after breakfast.
“Where were you? I woke up and you weren’t here,” he said in his “mad” voice.
Lily closed her eyes, thinking of his angry terror and chiding herself for not thinking like a mother. Would the poor kid never get to experience having a mom who loved him, a normal family?
“Good morning to you, too. I came as soon as I could.”
“Not fast enough.”
Patience… “I had to wait for a ride,” she said.
“Oh.” He folded his skinny arms and turned his head toward the window. “I asked about Thomas.”
Taking a deep breath, Lily knew it was time. “What did they say?”
“That nurse said she’d try to find out. But she didn’t come back.”
Lily checked the board. The name “Barb” was up there in blue marker.
“It’s something bad, isn’t it? They told you. How come they won’t tell me? I’m his friend. You’re not. You don’t even know him.”
The defense of the young and cornered—Lily was well-acquainted. “First of all, there are laws today about who can know about things about other people.”
“So?”
“So, Kenny, I’ll tell you what I knew yesterday, but maybe things have changed by now, okay?” She took a deep breath. “Thomas’s body and brain didn’t do as well as yours out in the cold. The doctors put him to sleep until he gets better.”
Kenny’s eyes got wide. He turned very pale and vomited, which was the least she’d expected. “Why?” he asked. “He’s so much bigger’n me.”
“The doctors are doing all they can to help him. It seems Thomas got wet, so even though his snowsuit was warm, once the dampness soaked in, he couldn’t stay warm, so his body started to shut down.”
“I told him not to roll around in the snow. He lost his hat. He’s such a dummy.” Kenny brushed his nose and dashed away a tear. “Is he going to die?”
Lily swallowed. “No one can predict the future. What were you doing, anyway, pal? That was a dangerous thing to do, out there in the cold.”
“I was trying to find you. Uncle Art said you moved back to Minneapolis, so we were going there.”
“I’d never leave without saying good-bye, baby,” Lily crooned. Her heart skipped a beat. Art, planting a story like that. If she hadn’t believed the terrible truth before, that he expected her to disappear after nailing a job, Kenny’s declaration proved it.
She continued to stroke his hair. Eventually, he curled up under the blanket, exhausted of grief and semi-asleep, until a nurse and an orderly came to take him for an MRI.
Lily stretched out on the recliner while he was being tested to determine what other kind of internal damage might have happened from the cold exposure. He hadn’t suffered the kind of frostbite Lily had, though he complained of cramps in his legs and wasn’t hungry.
A peek of the clock told her he wouldn’t be back for another half hour so she took out Bonnie’s diary. Poor Cam. Had he really lost everything? All of his notes, the other diaries? His Shakespeare collection? And the dogs… She sat up and glanced at the phone. No. Let him rest. At least he had a warm bed and an indoor bathroom at the motel.
She turned the pages, looking for the place she’d left off. Instead, she opened to July, 1966 and dark, angry, stilted writing in faded blue ink.
Came back from the station. Mad, mad, mad, Lord! Nobody will Listen! Gregor says he’ll try again, but who will believe us? Mr. Po was a good man—a good man, hear? No matter his color. A man, half yellow Chinaman, half Negro is a human, too. He ran a nice, clean store. Nobody deserved to be hunted down and clubbed like some angry beast. He be a beast, that dirty cop.
I know what I saw. The name tag on that boy, it read Andersen, B. A young one, but no matter, hardly grown boy still knows what’s murder. Mr. Po wasn’t real good with English. With all the commotion that night, everybody rioting, running crazy scared when the cops come beating with their sticks and tear gas, he didn’t hear the cop child call, telling him to go inside when all hell broke loose that night of the 20. I’ll never forget it. Mr. Po had no stick, no gun. He wouldn’t never hurt anybody.
Andersen, B. That’s who murdered Mr. Po. And no other cops gonna stand for it.
I told Gregor to leave it be after they shut me out at the station, but he’d determined to go down there tomorrow. Maybe go to the newspaper first.
Lily turned the page, and a slip of paper fell, loose, to the floor. She bent over to pick it up. Cam had written a note. B. Andersen, Bernard McCullough, rookie year, 1966, age 19. Law deg, LL.B., Marqu. class of 1972. Elected Mil. Cnty Jdg 1985. St. WI Supm Court. Check news.
She finished reading and scrunched her brows, puzzled because the name rang a little bell. The thought died when she noticed a sheriff’s deputy in a khaki uniform standing in the door. She stuck the note in the diary and hid it again quickly in the pocket of the sweatshirt Eunice lent her. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so, ma’am.”
He smiled in a way that made her wary. Mousy hair and a receding chin, along with very small gray eyes under thin brows made him fall way short in the shining knight protecting them category, as far as she was concerned. And that leer made her uncomfortable. Definitely not professional. She didn’t correct his “ma’am.”
“I’m looking for a young lad, Kenny Masters,” he said in a spidery voice. “This is his room?”
“I’m his aunt. He’s not here right now. Who are you, and what do you want?”
“Sorry.” The depu
ty came into the room. “I’ll wait. I have paperwork here authorizing me to question Mr. Masters.”
“He’s just a little boy,” Lily replied. “And who gave you permission?”
The man glanced at the papers in his hand. “It says here Roman Masters, I believe.”
“That’s my father. Who are you? And what questions do you have?”
“My apologies. Name’s Teese. I need to know the circumstances of his absence from home.”
You and me both, Lily thought, but she’d already told Forbes she was waiting to hear about Berta before she allowed any official questioning. “I already told the authorities no,” she said. “The Barter Valley police, along with Special Agent Forbes from the DOJ, are out searching for his mother, and—”
“As you can see,” he said while he waved the paper and gave her another creepy mock-sorrowful smile, “I hold the proper written permission. You have no legal standing in the matter, I believe.”
She may not have any legal standing, but she was not without allies. She quietly opened her cell phone and pushed Ole’s number. Teese, or whatever his name was, for Lily didn’t think he was a real cop—the real one who was supposed to be on guard outside went with Kenny and would never have let this joker in—looked startled when he heard the musical beep of the dial. She nearly collapsed when Ole answered first ring.
“Hey, Lil, you all right?”
“Ole, man, good to hear your voice. How are you? You busy?”
“Not for you.”
“If you’re not too far away, I’d love for you and Sven to come be another witness here at the hospital. There’s a…a man who wants to ask Kenny some questions.”
A few muffled mumbles came across the line, then Ole said, “Be there in a few. Hang on.”
Lily refused to give the creepy deputy her attention until seven minutes passed. The Iversson twins crashed into the room, each trying to get in the door first. Sven won.
“Lil,” Ole said, tension accompanying the words.
“Sir.” Sven nodded at the uniform. He squinted at the man’s shoulder patch, then dropped to the front pocket where a shiny badge rode. “US Marshal? I don’t recognize that uniform.”
“Teese,” the man introduced himself. “I’m assigned to border patrol and was picking up some illegals when I was asked to look into this matter.”
“Illegal what? Canadians?” Sven asked, the normal humor absent from his tone.
Teese’s smile barely bent his lips.
“What matter?” Lily asked.
“I’m sure you understand this is confidential, ma’am.”
A nurse in pink scrubs pushing Kenny’s wheelchair paused at the door. She glanced at Lily. “And who do we have here?” she asked. Jenner followed behind, his frown planted on Teese. He reached for his shoulder mic.
Teese held up his hand. “Teese. With the US Marshals. I have written permission to question Kenneth Masters.” His Peter Lorre grin made Kenny shrink back. Lily went to the boy’s side and crouched.
Jenner was clearly in a quandary.
“My credentials.” Teese handed over an identification card to Jenner, who studied it, still frowning.
“I’ll check with the chief.” Jenner called the station. Jenner didn’t try to muffle his side of the conversation, which ended with, “Yes, sir, I’ll get his badge number.”
In the meantime, the nurse settled Kenny back in bed, frowned upon the adults and told them to keep the excitement down, and informed Lily the doctor would talk to her later.
Teese held a pen and a notebook and faced Kenny. “Now there, fella, you want to tell me what made you run away?”
“Wait a minute,” Lily said. Just because we taught kids to trust the police…how could she ever explain it? What was real? Kids had to have something real to anchor their world.
Teese didn’t even turn his head. “There isn’t much time before I have to catch my flight. What did you see, Kenny?”
Kenny patted Lily’s arm. “It’s okay, Aunt Lily. I saw Arthur Townsend stick my mom full of drugs when they were fighting,” he said in a clear voice.
Lily stopped breathing and wondered at the taste of grief.
“What day was this?”
“When the blizzard came last Friday. School was called off on account of snow.”
“And then what happened?” Teese squiggled on the notebook, but he couldn’t have made actual words. He moved subtly aside when Sven leaned closer to check.
“Kenny, you don’t have to do this now,” Lily said.
“I want to. They got to arrest him. And I want my mom back.”
“Of course you do.”
“Mr. Teese, you’ll arrest him, won’t you?”
“Sure, kid.” Teese’s body went antsy, feet shifting, arms flailing, though his expression rarely changed. “How did you realize drugs were involved?”
At Kenny’s puzzled look, Teese amended, “What made you think your uncle used drugs?”
“He had a needle, a syringe. He dropped it and I picked it up.”
He said the word as if he was proud. Lily bit her lips. “He didn’t hurt you? Where is it?”
Teese stared, not repeating the question.
Kenny’s little face clouded. “Thomas had it in the backpack, and he dropped it.”
Teese became animated once again. “Where? Where is it now? By the place you were found?”
Lily took Kenny’s hand, though she was careful not to squeeze. He looked at her. “Tho-Thomas…he…”
Lily stood. “That’s enough.”
Teese narrowed his little eyes, nodded, and with a glance out the window, turned and left, slipping from the room almost as if he hadn’t been there at all.
“That was pretty creepy,” Sven said three ticks later. It seemed they all let out a collective breath.
A heavyset man in a blue uniform, navy coat and hat with earflaps entered.
“Chief,” Jenner said.
“Where is he?” the chief puffed. “That guy you said was a marshal?”
“Gone,” Ole said, cracking his knuckles.
The hair on the back of Lily’s neck rose. “He wasn’t, was he?”
“No,” the chief said. “The badge number didn’t register, and no one there could trace the name.”
“I knew it, man!” Sven crowed.
“You want we should go after him?” Ole flexed his fists, ready for action.
The chief shook his head. “What did you tell him?”
Lily sat down, scared like she’d never truly been. She listened to Jenner repeat the questions and Kenny’s answers with only half an ear. Art had gone completely crazy. What was he doing with a syringe full of drugs? And Kenny picked it up?
“Everything heard and said and witnessed in this room does not get repeated, boys. I mean it,” the chief was saying when Lily looked up. “I hear one peep and I’m arresting you.”
Sven and Ole nodded in tandem, showing that they were, truly, twins. They looked at each other and left the room.
Jenner stood there like a lost child. “I’m sorry, sir, I—”
“You did the right thing,” the chief said. “And Arthur Townsend—” He seemed to realize where he was and swung around to Lily. “I apologize, ma’am. We’ll check into this matter right away.” He pointed at the door and took Jenner outside in his wake.
A vacuum, of course, is abhorred… Lily had always liked that expression since high school physics, and it was true. Deegan and Forbes filled the empty space.
“I think we have a…oh,” Forbes said when he noticed Kenny. “That’s right. You’re awake.”
Lily made quick introductions.
“How are you, fella?” Forbes asked.
Kenny frowned. “Okay, I guess. You’re the one out looking for my mom, right? You find her yet?”
Deegan stepped out to talk to his chief.
“We might know some more about that,” Forbes replied cautiously.
FIFTY
On the
verge of consciousness, Cam watched the burning of his cabin unfold in his mind, over and over like a stuck recording. He rolled over as the scene filled with smoke. He sat up and tried not to cough, the scene was so real.
A charred body. Probably Findley.
Groaning, he fell back and pulled the too-short motel-issue blanket over his head. Maybe it would all go away.
And again to the child I whispered,
The snow that husheth all.
Darling, the merciful Father
Alone can make it fall.
Cam tossed the blanket aside and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Poetry wasn’t right this morning. Another shower, clean clothes. His stomach rumbled. Breakfast.
With coffee trickling from the complementary pot in the room, he shaved and finished dressing. Minerva had tossed him a shopping bag when she escorted him to the motel. At least her taste in clothing for men stayed on the standard side. A couple different sizes of jeans, plain sweatshirt, underwear, dark socks. His boots were fine and he stuck his feet in those before he headed for the door. No sign of Georgia and company. They’d catch up later, no doubt. A bagel from the breakfast spread in the motel lobby held off the worst pangs as he drove right to the hospital.
Business with Johnston and Forbes could wait, too, although he suspected where Forbes would be.
He walked through the hospital entrance, daring anyone to get in his way and ran up the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Yup. As he figured.
Rosebloom, still sweating, stood chatting with Jenner and Deegan.
Cam stopped. “Anything on those snowmobile tracks yet? Or the victim’s ID?” Now he was sounding too eager. Been hanging around cops way too much these days. He couldn’t even remember where he’d left off writing the biography.
“Not yet.” The chief dismissed him without even an aloha.
Cam grinned and walked in. He shook his head. “You are truly the proverbial bad penny, aren’t you?”
Forbes saluted. A wry grin crossed his lips.
Lily. Oh man, oh man, oh man. He settled for a long smile, all he could do in this crowded room with all eyes watching. Speaking of eyes…
“Kenny. At last we meet.” Little guy in the bed glared for all he was worth, which Cam would have taken more seriously if not for the fact he had Lily stamped all over him, except for his dark hair and bronzier natural color.
Understory Page 24