"I need a collector more than a typist right now."
"A collector? I'm afraid I have no experience in that. Just in sending out the bills," Connie ruefully admitted.
Fields was pleasant but she didn't feel encouraged in spite of his keeping the recommendation and the resume with her phone number on it.
"I'm having some cards printed," she said with more verbally upbeat hope than she felt. "They should be ready in about a week. I would appreciate it if you would keep me in mind if you should hear of anyone who needs temporary help."
"I'll certainly do that, and good luck. You should do well. I don't know of anyone else here who offers this kind of service." He walked her to the office door, making her feel like someone important.
"Well, you can't win them all," Connie consoled herself as she left. "He's a charmer, all right, but that secretary of his looks to me like she could handle any collection problems they might have on break!" Connie shuddered at the thought.
Back in the car she consulted the clock again. She would have to hurry to catch Tim Carpenter in. He was the last of the three lawyers she had planned to call on today.
She parked close as possible to the courthouse and when she entered, met Tim Carpenter in the hall. Her heart sank. "He must be leaving for the day. Bad timing, Connie!"
Summoning up the ghost of the hopeful smile that died in Laurence Fields's office, she timidly touched his arm to get his attention, "Excuse me?"
"Yes ma'am?"
Connie aged twenty years at the 'ma'am', but got over it fast.
"If you can spare me a few minutes, I'd like to talk to you. Or just leave my name and number if you're interested in someone to help with office work? I'm doing typing and general office work. Freelancing."
She talked fast, wanting to present her service and qualifications. "Filing or correspondence you need to get out?"
"You're doing freelance typing?" Tim Carpenter's young face broke into a delighted smile. "I sure am interested. Come on into my broom closet." He held the door for her.
"Thank you. I, I don't have any cards yet. I've ordered some. But I use my own typewriter and ribbons and will work when you need me." Connie clutched her folder as he gestured her to a chair.
"My guardian angel must have sent you," Tim told her as they sat down opposite each other. "I've got correspondence backed up and I don't type. I was thinking of approaching the high school typing teacher to see if one of her students would be interested in doing some typing for me. I wasn't too happy about it, but the work is piling up."
"That's good news to me." Connie pounced on the opportunity.
"Can I afford you, though? How much do you charge? Or how do you charge, for that matter?" He was a little dubious and at a loss how to make arrangements.
"I charge eighty dollars for all day, that's nine to five o'clock. Or forty dollars for half a day, eight o'clock to twelve noon."
He hesitated, not sure how to relate the hours to the work he wanted done.
Connie anticipated his needs. Her experience as a secretary came in as handy as her willingness to bring her own equipment. She looked but didn't see any work on the desk or in a basket.
"If you'll show me what you've got to type up to give me some idea, I can make a guess about how long it will take me. But don't hold me to it like it's chiseled in stone," she warned with a grin. She felt from what he said they could get together.
"Good. I've got the things I need most written out." He opened a couple of drawers and brought out files and papers. He got together what he had prepared and pushed the pile of paper across the battered desk for Connie to look at.
There were letters, itemized bills, lists of some kind, and correspondence to other lawyers.
"I'm glad you're such a legible writer." Connie straightened the stack. "I believe I can get them done in half a day. But in case I'm flattering myself, why don't you look them over again and arrange them by priority so I'll be sure to get done what you have to have?"
"Good thinking. I've added some recent correspondence to the heap as things came in," Tim admitted. As he shuffled papers he glanced up. "You couldn't possibly come in and do this tomorrow, could you?"
"Yes, I can. I'll be here at eight o'clock. I'll bring my own typewriter to use. All I need is a plug and a place to work."
"You can? Tomorrow? And you'll bring your typewriter? I think I love you!" Tim was so pleased Connie laughed with him.
"I'm as glad to find work as you are to get some help. I'm trying to get started freelancing here in Maryvale. I've only called on three people so far and you're the first one who's given me some work."
"Couldn't have worked out better, then. I'll see you in the morning. I have to be in court at nine but I'll be here to let you in and get set up."
Connie floated out the door on an accomplishment high and smiled all the way home.
"Eeeyahoooooo!" She squealed, gripping the steering wheel. "The first day out! Oh, I can't wait to tell Cas!"
While she got out the things she wanted to fix for dinner at home Missy came in and the phone rang at the same time. She beckoned to Missy and picked up the phone.
"Larkin residence."
"Mrs. Larkin," the soft voice hesitated. "This is Muriel Davis."
"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't recognize your voice. Cas is not here yet, can I help you?"
"I'm sorry to bother him at home. I can call him at his office tomorrow."
"No, no, it's all right. Please, call any time Mrs. Davis. All of our hearts are with you. I'll tell Cas to call as soon as he gets here."
"That's all right. But, would you tell him I believe Denise must have been wearing a bracelet when, when...."
"A bracelet?" Connie wished she could somehow make this call easier for her. "She was wearing a bracelet. What kind of bracelet, or shall I just get Cas to call you back?"
"Well, if it's not too much trouble. She wore the bracelet all the time and I looked for it. It's not in her room. It was one of those little gold chains. It had a 'D' on it."
"Of course it's no trouble, I'll tell Cas about it as soon as he comes in. And please, call any time."
She said goodbye and hung up, realizing Missy was watching.
"Was that Denise's mom?"
"Yes. She said she thinks Denise must have been wearing a gold bracelet when she was attacked. It's not in her room and she wore it all the time. She said she'd called the office, but your father was already gone."
"I think I've seen Denise wearing the bracelet, mom. A plain gold chain?"
"That's what she said. We'll tell him when he comes in. What I wanted to tell you when the phone rang is I've got a half day's work. Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow! Wow!" Missy's face lit up at the news. "Mom, you got something the very first day, that's really great." Missy hugged her. "Who is the half day for?"
"For Tim Carpenter. He's the young lawyer who's using one of the little offices in the courthouse and has just been appointed Public Defender, probably pro tem or something. He doesn't even have a typewriter, and he really needs some work done."
"That's neat." Missy started setting the table.
"You don't need to do that yet."
"I thought I'd get it done so I can do some of my reading. I wonder what sadist makes up those required reading lists anyway?" Missy gave a water glass she was holding a disgusted grimace.
"Oh, you'll live. You might even enjoy some of it." Connie took a plate from her hand. "Scoot! I'll yell if I need you."
A little later Cas came in the back door. He sniffed appreciatively at the scent of pork chops simmering on low.
"Ah, Sanctuary," he breathed with his eyes closed. "I'm thinking of digging us a moat around the place."
"A moat? You mean with crocodiles and dragons and such? Has it been that bad?" Connie gave him an extra close hug.
The farmers and their rustled cattle, the lack of anything new on the Davis case, and the beating Casey Taylor had suffered ran through his mind in a kale
idoscope of unfinished business. His own personal and up-close dragons. He returned her hug and put all of them firmly out of his thoughts.
"Oh, I guess not. Anyway, I'm home now. What are you grinning about," he asked indignantly. "Don't you understand my problems?" He tickled her.
Connie got out, "Stop!" between giggles. "I've got good news for a change. Think you can stand the shock?"
"Try me."
"I called on all three of the lawyers on my list to contact today and I've got a half day's work for tomorrow!"
"That is good news. Who for?"
"Tim Carpenter. I'll tell you all about it after dinner. Also," her smile faded a bit. "Mrs. Davis called and left you a message."
"Mrs. Davis?" She had his full attention. "I'll call her now." He reached for the phone book. "Did she say what she wanted?"
"She said Denise was probably wearing a gold bracelet when she was attacked. She always wore it, and it's not in her room so she feels she must have had it on."
"You mean, one of those little gold chains?"
"Yes, Missy said she's seen her wearing it, too. Mrs. Davis said it had a gold initial 'D' on it. I offered to tell you to call her back, but she was afraid of it being too much trouble. I said I'd tell you."
"I'll call her anyway. It will make her feel better and she may have thought of something else."
* * *
The next day was a busy one for Cas. The first thing he did was tell Rhodes about the bracelet and send him and another deputy to the scene to search for it.
"You say it's one of those little gold chains with an initial 'D' on it?" Rhodes looked dubious as he started out.
"That's what Mrs. Davis said, and she's almost certain she was wearing it. It will be tough to spot out there, I know. If you don't find it at the scene, backtrack the way we went in."
Gladys came in with the mail. "Caleb Martin called but didn't leave his number. He wondered if there was anything new on the cattle thefts. Also, Matthew Tinwhistle called. Isn't he the one who had the goat stolen?"
"Yes," Cas made a pained grimace. "Don't tell me he's missing another one?"
"No." Gladys laughed. "The way he carried on, I'm sure that was the only one he had. But he said when you had time he wanted to tell you about losing a head or two of cattle. I think he must have been talking to Caleb Martin from the way he said it. He did leave his number." Gladys pointed, "It's on the top of the mail there."
"Okay, I'll call him as soon as I can get around to it." He laid the note aside and went through the mail, pulling out a large brown envelope. It turned out to be the printouts of the cattle thefts in Marble County Harlan Glover had promised to send. He laid it in front of him and took a brief look through the rest of the mail before opening it.
He was on the last page of the printouts, checking the dates and what was taken, when the phone rang. It was Deputy Doug Freeman. He didn't bother with amenities.
"I thought I'd best call and tell you since I know you questioned the Taylor boy in connection with the Davis case."
"What happened?" Cas snapped.
"It's not him, it's his mother. Her car ran off the road and went into a ditch out by the Green Thumb Nursery. She's not hurt, but the car is in pretty bad shape. It will have to be towed. It's an old car. She said it was her son's. She borrowed it to go get some plants at the nursery."
"Is she all right?"
"Yes, we're taking her home."
"Where are they towing the car to?"
"Howard's Garage. That's where she told them to take it."
"Okay, thanks for calling." He pushed the mail into a rough stack and reached for his hat, his face a grim mask.
"Gladys," he ordered without slowing down. "Be sure to send Rhodes out to Tinwhistle's to get a report on his missing cattle when he gets in if he hasn't already been out there. I'm going over to Howard's garage."
He saw Casey Taylor as soon as he got close enough to see inside the shop. Casey's taped places stood out as he turned to look at Cas. Again, Cas felt the anger he felt when he had first seen Casey's bruised face and the careful way he moved to keep from hurting any worse.
Cas nodded to Howard Giles and went to where Casey stood. He was looking up at the underside of his car. Cas was glad to see Casey looked ready to punch someone and knew he saw the same thing he did.
"I don't know what you're looking for, Sheriff Larkin. But I've seen all I need to. Someone cut the brake line. My mother is lucky she wasn't hurt or killed."
Cas nodded agreement. "Yes, that was the one good thing about it." He glanced at the faded paint. "You got any insurance on it?"
"Only liability. But I can afford to lose the car a lot easier than I can my mother. Would you still like to know where I got these bruises?"
"Yes, I would. Did you walk over here?"
Casey nodded. "That's why mom had the car brought here. It's close and this is where I come when I need something done to it."
"It's about lunch time. Call your mother so she'll know where you are. We'll go have lunch at the drive-in and talk."
The call didn't take long and they left in Cas's car. As they waited for their lunch orders, Casey told Cas about the club he had asked him about.
"When it first got organized, everyone thought the club was something different. A fun thing to do. Harmless and fun. But the one who got everyone interested and organized it turned out to be a real power freak. He had officers who 'punished' members who got out of line, or talked about the club."
'Punished' clicked again in Cas's memory. "Who organized it? Who is the one behind this so-called club?"
"Darrell Spruce."
"Was it the club that made the mess up on Peaceful Ridge?"
"Yes. He had us come up there for a meeting. He wanted us to think he has supernatural powers, if you can believe such a thing. He showed us the tombstone of a great aunt or something who was a witch. And you know," Casey turned unbelieving eyes on Cas. "Some of them were actually falling for that garbage!"
"Did he have his officers beat you up?"
"Yes, that's who it was." He gave Cas the names of two members of the football team who were both a lot bigger than Casey.
"Sounds a little rigged in their favor." Cas remembered the two from seeing them play.
"I got in a couple of good licks, but not much more. Only enough that it wasn't as much fun as they thought it was going to be." Casey finished with a lopsided grin.
"Good for you. Now, what is this crap about Darrell having supernatural powers?"
"He thinks he can hypnotize people. And the reason he had us go up on Peaceful Ridge was to show us that tombstone, like it was a résumé or something I guess. Then he had them kill a chicken on the tombstone and all that crazy stuff. I thought that was more voodoo than witchcraft. Then once, he got so wound up, I laughed out loud at him. He took it as a terrible insult. But it was so ridiculous, it seemed funny to me. Anyway, he put out the word that I would be 'punished'. I thought that would be all there was to it. When you came to my house, I thought it was all over. That this beating would be the end of it. But this is not funny any more. My mom could have been hurt, or even killed. It's got to stop."
"It will be stopped. Do you remember about how many meetings there have been and when they were?"
"Ah, probably, I'll have to think about it."
"You do that. Write the dates down and anything else you can remember about them as well. You have my card, and my home number is in the phone book. Where did they have these meetings? Or did you have them different places, like the one up on Peaceful Ridge?"
"We generally had them outside somewhere, but once we had one on a stormy night. The officers took us to it in vans. They blindfolded us and made several trips so I don't know where the place was."
"I know you couldn't see, being blindfolded. But did it seem far to you? What about unusual noises, or was it a rough road? Could you tell if it was uphill, or an unpaved road? Think back and see what you can remember."<
br />
"It did seem like a long way to me. But that may be because we must have got off on an unpaved road before we got there, and it was sort of rough. Then when we got out, somebody told us to stand still. We joined hands and went down some kind of an incline and waited till they said we could take the blindfolds off."
"What did you see when you took the blindfold off?"
"We were moving but slowly. Going into a dark place like a big hole. But when we got in I could see it must have been a house once, because it had stone walls. The stones felt damp and cold."
"What about the meeting? Who was there, the usual members and Darrell Spruce and his officers?"
"Yes, the usual members from school were there and Darrell said we could meet there when the weather was bad. I remember that. Then he introduced the man he said had given us the goat head."
"Goat head?"
"Yes, I should have told you about that first, I guess. The place had a thing rigged up like an altar with an upside down crucifix on it and there was a skeleton goat head hanging on the wall behind it. It looked like a place you'd see in a horror movie, with the candles and the stone walls and all that."
"Who was the man?"
"Darrell didn't tell us his name. Or if he did, I didn't hear it. Just that he had given us the goat head and some other things he said we could use. He had brought some other things in a box, but I didn't look at them."
"What did this stranger look like? Can you describe him to me?"
"He was, I'd guess, about twenty-eight or thirty. As tall as one of the officers, but skinnier. I don't think he weighed very much. He was about medium every other way, too, and had long dark hair. Or, sort of long hair, but not what mom would call 'fashionable long'. He just looked shaggy. Like he'd needed a haircut for a while."
"Did he say anything so you could hear his voice?"
"Yes, sir. He told us there were other groups and when we got better organized we could meet together and other things. Then after he left, Darrell told us we would have a real 'orgy' soon. That didn't go over as well as he was expecting it to, and he started telling us how great it was. Some of them got interested enough to satisfy him, I guess. He was real excited about the orgy as he kept calling it, and told us to be thinking about who we would bring. He said w'd have to be very careful and secretive to be able to 'enjoy our freedom'." Casey looked disgusted.
The Devil in Maryvale Page 8