‘It’s not going to be easy,’ Tom agreed.
‘You sure it wasn’t that guy they have in jail?’ Joe asked.
‘Pretty sure,’ said Tom.
‘Well, I can’t help you,’ said Joe.
Tom shrugged. ‘Sorry to have bothered you.’ He turned and began to walk back to the car, gesturing for Blair to follow him.
‘Oh, it’s no problem,’ said Joe, shaking his head. He picked up the trash can and turned to open the door to the barn.
Blair looked back at Darlene’s brother as he went into the barn. He was wearing a fleece vest over a plaid shirt and there was something stuck to the back of the vest. She thought about walking up to him and pulling it off his vest, but she hesitated, wondering if it was a bit too intimate a gesture to make toward this virtual stranger.
‘Mr Reese,’ she said. ‘You’ve got …’
Joe did not seem to hear her, so she took a few steps closer to him.
‘Mr Reese,’ she said. ‘Joe.’ She extended her hand to pull the offending object off his vest and then she stopped. At that close distance, she recognized what the object was.
Joe heard her this time and turned around. ‘What do you want?’ he asked.
Blair shook her head.
‘Didn’t you just call out to me?’ Joe asked.
‘No,’ said Blair. ‘Nothing. It was nothing.’
Tom, already at the car, looked back at her impatiently. ‘Blair. Keys?’
Blair began to hurry toward the car. ‘Coming,’ she said.
‘Well, that was a waste of time,’ Tom said, as Blair turned on the engine.
Blair did not reply. She made a K-turn and started down toward the road, slowly negotiating the rutted driveway.
Tom glanced at Blair. Then he frowned, and looked at her more closely.
‘What’s the matter?’ he said.
Blair shook her head and waited at the end of the drive, looking in both directions. It was that time of day when some people had their lights on and others didn’t. She had a new model car which made the decision for her. But she didn’t want to pull out into anyone’s path, who might have failed to turn on theirs.
‘Something’s on your mind,’ Tom insisted.
Blair kept her eyes on the street as the daylight faded and the snow blew around them. ‘When he was going into the barn, I looked back at him …’
‘And,’ Tom said.
‘It’s probably nothing,’ said Blair.
‘What?’
‘He had that fleece vest on.’
‘Yeah …’
‘There was something stuck to the back of it.’
‘Something like what?’ he asked.
Blair hesitated. ‘It was a sock.’
‘Well, that’ll happen when you put things in the dryer together,’ said Tom. ‘Or don’t you do your own laundry?’
‘It was a girl’s sock. Pink and fuzzy. A child. Or a young girl.’
Tom was quiet for a minute, frowning. ‘Could have been the sister’s?’ he said.
Blair shook her head. ‘Darlene would never wear something like that. It was something a child would wear.’
‘Maybe … it’s something she wears to bed, or after a shower.’
His remark reminded her that this man had lived with women and knew what they might wear to be comfortable.
But she shook her head. ‘It was too small.’
‘He and the wife had no children, right? How about Darlene?’
‘No. No children. Darlene has a grown son who lives in Colorado.’
Tom frowned. ‘What are you thinking? Did you think it could have been Molly’s?’
‘After all these years? No,’ Blair scoffed. ‘I don’t know … It just … gave me a very weird feeling. Here we were, trying to find out about Molly and he has this little girl’s sock stuck to his vest.’
Tom stared out the windshield, frowning.
‘Why would he have a sock like that at his house …?’ Blair mused aloud.
‘I don’t know,’ Tom said.
‘I just wonder …’ she said.
Tom frowned at her. ‘Wonder what?’
‘No. The whole idea is crazy,’ Blair cried. ‘Besides, Joe and his wife were at a church retreat when Molly was killed.’
‘He says,’ Tom corrected her.
Blair shivered in spite of herself and put her foot on the gas pedal, turning out onto the highway.
‘No. It’s not possible. We’re getting carried away.’ said Blair. ‘We’re grasping at straws because we don’t have anything. It’s just so frustrating. I can’t stay in this town, but I can’t leave til I help Muhammed somehow.’
‘You have helped Muhammed,’ said Tom. ‘You’ve rehired me.’
‘Yeah, well don’t tell him that,’ she said ruefully.
The two of them rode in silence for a few minutes. There was enough tiredness and discouragement between them to fill the car.
Finally, Tom spoke. ‘I think the next order of business is a trip to Arborside to track down Randy Knoedler. A snap out case like Randy … I’m not convinced he kept it all in the family.’
Blair nodded absently.
‘You look like you’ve had enough for one day,’ he said.
Blair shook her head unconvincingly. ‘No, I’m still good.’
‘Maybe it’s time we went our separate ways for the day,’ he suggested.
Blair hesitated. ‘Maybe it is,’ she agreed.
‘Why don’t you drive me back to my house,’ he said.
Blair did as she was told. She pulled in the driveway and stopped. He got out of the passenger side and looked in on her.
‘Don’t lose heart,’ he said. ‘This is a process. It can take time. I’m sure you do the same thing with your computer … whatevers …’
‘Yes, I do,’ said Blair. ‘But there I know what I’m doing. I miss knowing what I’m doing.’
Tom got out and rapped on the side window of the car. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
‘Ok. Thanks,’ said Blair. She watched as he walked, illuminated by the car’s headlights, toward the house and up the front steps. He gave her a brief wave and went in. Blair backed out onto the road and headed toward home. Ellis’s house, she reminded herself. Not home. Although she wished, more than anything, that she were truly heading home.
TWENTY-TWO
The smell of chicken, dumplings and gravy was coming from the back of the house when Blair opened the front door. She walked back to the kitchen and looked in. Malcolm was seated at the table and Darlene was spooning the steaming chicken stew in his bowl.
‘That smells great,’ said Blair.
Darlene looked up at her and smiled. ‘Sit down. Join us.’
Blair was automatically ready to say no and withdraw, even though she was hungry.
Darlene seemed to recognize that Blair was waffling.
‘Your Uncle Ellis had to work late tonight. He asked me to get this boy some supper.’ She beamed at Malcolm, who pretended not to notice. ‘There’s more than enough for all of us, Blair. Have a seat.’
‘Ok,’ said Blair, pulling out the chair opposite Malcolm. ‘I’d like that. If you’re sure there’s enough.’
Darlene set a plate down in front of Blair and carefully ladled some of the golden chicken dish over it. Then she made one for herself.
Blair looked at Malcolm. ‘How are you doing, Malcolm? Did you have a good time over at Amanda’s, at the sleepover?’
Malcolm shrugged. ‘It’s not really a sleepover,’ he corrected her. ‘That’s gonna be my house,’ he said.
‘That’s true,’ said Blair. ‘Sounds like you’re feeling better about that.’
Malcolm shrugged, and took another mouthful of food.
Darlene sat down opposite Blair and Blair glanced up at her. Darlene rolled her eyes, but smiled at the boy. Blair took a bite and savored it.
‘Oh Darlene, this is good. Did you just make it?’
‘Not today. I had a few containe
rs frozen at the house from the time I did make it. I brought one over and heated it up.’
‘That was so nice of you.’
‘I’m just as glad to be here with you two. My brother has his men’s club dinner at the church tonight. I sometimes feel kind of … lonesome out there by myself.’
Blair nodded. ‘I was out at your house today. I must have just missed you.’
‘Really?’ said Darlene. ‘What were you doing there?’
‘Well, I hired this detective, you know, to look into Molly’s death. We were stopping at every house along the road where the Sinclairs lived at the time. Your brother was home so we talked to him for a while. He didn’t really remember much about those times. He and his wife were away when the murder happened. Some church retreat they went on.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Darlene. ‘They used to go on a lot of those.’
‘Where was that?’ Blair asked. ‘Somewhere nearby?’
‘They used to go to one about three hours from here, out near Gettysburg. My sister-in-law loved those things. I just never could be wholehearted about religion. So many bad things happened to us when we were growing up. It tends to make you a little bit cynical …’
‘I hear you,’ said Blair grimly.
‘But my sister-in-law was … dedicated. She wouldn’t take no for answer.’
‘I wonder what they do at those places,’ Blair mused.
‘Oh, you know. Study scripture,’ Darlene said vaguely. ‘Counseling. Workshops. Fellowship.’
‘Do you remember what it was called?’ Blair asked. ‘The name of the place they used to go?’
‘I don’t,’ Darlene admitted. ‘Although I remember Eileen telling me about it, about how it had a lake and acres of land. You’d think it was a resort the way she described it.’
‘Do I have to go to church when I live at the Tucker’s?’ Malcolm interrupted abruptly.
Blair hesitated. ‘What did Amanda say?’
‘Nothing,’ said Malcolm. ‘But I know they go.’
‘Well,’ said Blair carefully, ‘You might want to give it a try with them. But, no one can make you believe anything. That’s personal.’
‘Well, I’m not going, no matter what they say,’ Malcolm insisted, and banged his fist, still holding his fork, down on the table. His plate jumped and then landed in his lap. Malcolm jumped up, squealing.
Darlene tried to dab at the stew on his shirt and hoody, but it was useless. ‘You better go upstairs and change,’ she said. ‘And bring down those messy clothes.’
Chastened, Malcolm did as he was told. Blair mopped up the table and the two women resumed their dinner. After a few minutes, Malcolm came down, dressed in sweatpants and a hoody, obediently hauling his sticky, ruined clothes.
‘I better run these through the wash for you,’ said Darlene kindly. ‘Do you want another plate?’
‘Yes, please,’ said Malcolm sheepishly.
‘That was delicious,’ said Blair. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem,’ said Darlene cheerfully.
Blair got up and scraped her plate. ‘Well, I’m gonna leave you two. I’ve got some work to do.’
Darlene ordered Malcolm to sit. She began to prepare a second plate for him, and then, as he dug into it, carried the clothes out to the washer on the enclosed back porch.
Blair hurried up the stairs to her room. She turned on her iPad and began to search, googling religious retreats in the Gettysburg area. One name appeared repeatedly. Blessed Reunion. Blair tapped on the listing. Immediately, the site came up, complete with prayers printed against a sunset backdrop, photos of smiling people gathered around cafeteria tables and pictures of the retreat’s campus in summer. There were lists of the kinds of workshops that were offered. They ran the gamut from youth issues to worship through music. There were all sorts of counseling sessions on everything from substance abuse to gender identity. This church was trying to keep up with the times, Blair mused.
But was this the one, she wondered? There were several men and women listed as group leaders. Blair scrolled through the photos of bespectacled, neatly attired people, looking for the ones who seemed old enough to have been at the Blessed Reunion for a long time. She found one graying gentleman named Adam Sawyer who led marriage counseling workshops. Blair tried to remember. Was that the same workshop which the Reeses had attended that long-ago November? Adam Sawyer’s number was listed. Blair hesitated, and then dialed it up.
The phone rang several times and then a deep-voiced man answered.
‘Mr Sawyer?’ Blair asked.
‘That’s right,’ he said.
‘My name is Blair Butler. I found your name on the Blessed Reunion website. I understand that you do marriage workshops. My husband and I are in kind of a difficult place and we were wondering if we might get some guidance by attending one of your workshops.’
‘Well, you are welcome, of course.’
‘I actually got the idea from a friend of mine, Joe Reese, who told me he and his late wife were helped by your program.’
‘Oh, sure. The Reeses. A couple of nice folks.’
Blair felt her heart skip. ‘They certainly are,’ said Blair. ‘Were,’ she corrected herself.
‘I haven’t seen Joe in a couple of years. Not since Eileen died. How’s he doing anyway?’
‘Well, he’s doing as well as can be expected,’ said Blair. ‘I mean, it’s difficult losing your mate that way.’
‘So suddenly,’ Adam agreed.
Blair wanted to ask more, but she didn’t want to betray her lack of knowledge about the Reeses. Besides, she was supposed to be inquiring about workshops for her own marriage.
‘I think Joe told me that they first came to Blessed Reunion fifteen years ago,’ said Blair. ‘Were you running it back then?’
‘Guilty as charged,’ said Sawyer pleasantly. ‘My wife and I have been running these workshops for nearly twenty years.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ said Blair, feeling increasingly ashamed for even pursuing the conversation. What did it prove, after all?
‘Well, it seems to work. Our philosophy is that it helps for people to freely share their insights and experiences. My wife handles the women’s group and I do the men.’
‘They don’t meet together?’
‘Oh no,’ said Adam. ‘Didn’t Joe tell you? They’re separated for the week. That way they can say what they need to say to a sympathetic audience that won’t judge them.’
‘You mean they’re separated for the counseling sessions?’ said Blair.
‘No, Ma’am,’ said Sawyer. ‘They’re separated for the whole week, except for the occasional meal. They even sleep in separate quarters.’
Blair felt her heart start to race. ‘I’m not sure my husband would like that. What if someone decided to … I don’t know … go AWOL for a little while, their partner might not know it.’
‘It’s been known to happen,’ Adam chuckled.
‘You don’t really keep tabs on them during the workshop?’
‘Tabs? No. That’s not necessary. These are adults. They’re all there for the same reason. Are you concerned about your husband’s commitment to the process? Are you thinking he might get here and then want to get away from the retreat perhaps?’
‘Well, the whole thing is more my idea than his …’ said Blair.
‘That’s normal. One partner is usually more … enthused than the other. At least in the beginning.’
‘But I’m afraid he might walk out and I wouldn’t have a clue.’
‘That’s possible, of course. But this is a retreat, not a prison camp,’ said Sawyer gently. ‘If it’s any help to you, we do have some wonderful results.’
‘I understand,’ said Blair.
‘Well, you think about it and pray over it. I hope you and your husband will consider coming. I can’t promise we can help, but we can try.’
‘Thank you,’ said Blair.
As she ended the call, she heard the front door slam and
Uncle Ellis’s heavy tread thudding through the house. She heard him calling Darlene’s name, although there was no immediate answer. Then she heard Malcolm hurrying up the stairs and closing the door to his room. For a minute, Blair sat staring out the window of her room at a field of white stars shimmering in the blue-black sky. Then she picked the phone up again and dialed Tom Olson.
‘Hey Tom,’ she said.
‘Hey,’ he said.
‘Can you talk? Where are you?’
‘I’m in the car.’
‘Driving?’ Blair asked.
‘No. I’m parked,’ he said.
Suddenly, Blair heard the sound of raised, angry voices from downstairs. She could not hear what they were saying, but it was clearly Ellis and Darlene arguing. She was surprised to hear it. They seemed to get along so well. At least up to this point. Ellis’s voice was a thunderous rumble, while Darlene’s remained chilly but quiet. The honeymoon’s over, Blair thought.
‘Blair?’ Tom asked.
Blair forced herself to concentrate on the situation at hand.
‘Sorry, I was distracted. Look,’ said Blair. ‘I found that retreat where the Reeses went. I just talked to the guy who runs it.’
‘And?’ Tom said absently.
‘And it turns out that the marriage workshops are segregated by sex. The men and women barely see each other. They arrive together and they can have meals together, but they stay in separate bunkhouses and participate in separate spiritual activities.’
‘So?’
‘So, Joe Reese could have left there and his wife might never have known.’
‘I suppose,’ said Tom.
Blair felt disappointed by his reaction. ‘You don’t sound interested.’
‘I am, but right now I’m staking out a bar in Arborside where Randy Knoedler is a regular. I’m waiting for him to show. There was nobody at his house. According to some people I talked to in town, this guy never misses an opportunity to tie one on.’
Blair nodded, but said nothing.
‘If this doesn’t work,’ said Tom, ‘I’ve got the address of the place where he works. I’ll go there tomorrow. One way or the other I’ll find him before I head back.’
‘Maybe you should go in and have a drink,’ Blair suggested.
Tom chuckled. ‘Maybe I will.’
The Girl in the Woods Page 18