The Paper Detective

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The Paper Detective Page 13

by E. Joan Sims


  “Whoa, hold on. One question at a time, please,” he laughed.

  “Okay, first question. Do we even know what it is we are up against?”

  “Yes, and no,” he answered vaguely.

  I grumbled and filled our cups with more coffee. My stomach was beginning to feel the sour effects of so much caffeine. I got up and opened the refrigerator in search of a munchie. While fumbling around inside the darkened interior, I heard a “splat” and felt something cold and wet on the top of my foot.

  “Rats!”

  I cleaned the broken egg mess from the floor and tried to put the grumbling of my stomach out of my mind. My irritation focused on Horatio and his enigmatic answer to my perfectly legitimate question.

  “I’ve given this thing some thought, I’ll have you know,” I complained. “I’m not some silly, empty-headed woman. Some people consider me to be quite bright.”

  “Relax, Paisley, my love. And do us both a favor. Cut back on the coffee.”

  He stiffened suddenly and we both gave our full attention to the screen as a small green blip traversed from one corner of the yard to the other. Aggie raised her head and growled sleepily.

  “The cat came back,” he grinned.

  “I wish something would happen,” I blurted impatiently. “I hate all this waiting.”

  Horatio patted me on the shoulder and exhaled deeply.

  “You have no idea, my dear, how lucky we have been. I am actually beginning to think we are out of the woods, in a manner of speaking. Though,” he added carefully, “it is still much too soon to be sure we are really safe.”

  I started sputtering again. “Safe? Safe from what? I just don’t get it. What is going on? Do you have any idea, or are you keeping something from me?”

  “Please, my child, the thought of keeping something hidden from one another should never cross any of our minds!”

  The little cigar band I found on the patio earlier was burning a hole in my jeans pocket, but I forced a smile.

  “I’m sorry, Horatio. I didn’t mean to…”

  “Insinuate that I would try to protect you just because you’re a member of the fair sex?” he asked.

  I didn’t answer as I watched the first rays of the sun peek tentatively over the horizon.

  “I wonder if the sun is ever hesitant to start a new day knowing that some people will die before it sets?” I asked in a gloomy voice.

  Horatio stood and stretched with some difficulty after so many hours bent over the small screen. I heard an ancient joint or two pop, but he managed to straighten to his slender height and square his elegant shoulders.

  “Too much coffee, and too much imagination,” he remarked. “A bad combination, my dear. Best to seek your warm bed and try to sleep it off.”

  He held up a hand as I protested. “I promise we’ll have a war council when you awaken. I’ll give you the questionable benefit of my meager thoughts on the matter then.”

  Arguing was useless, of that I was certain. In all my years, I had never won an argument with Horatio. Aggie and I went off to bed without even trying to change his mind.

  In spite of all of the coffee in my system, I slept deeply for six hours. I awoke feeling refreshed and happy. I was me, Paisley, once again.

  Mother had my breakfast waiting. She never said one word about middle-aged women having heart attacks from eating too many eggs, or stroke victims arriving at the emergency room with bacon bits between their teeth. I enjoyed myself thoroughly until the last mouthful when she remarked, “Celestine called from the coffee shop. She just got in a new shipment and wants to know if we want more truffle cinnamon praline, or perhaps try her new chocolate hazelnut caramel surprise.”

  I started to tell her that I preferred something a little less exotic, but my mouth was still full. It was at that moment that my darling and beloved mother took the opportunity to zoom in for the kill.

  “Poor thing, she’d been crying all morning. Tommy’s great-grandmother died last night. She had catfish and hush puppies for dinner. They’re positive all that fat clogged her arteries and killed her.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Mother,” I sputtered.

  She gave a large heartfelt sigh and picked up my empty plate. She stared at the yellow smear of egg yolk and wrinkled her nose at the greasy residue.

  “Just the same, dear, I do wish you would be more prudent in your diet. We can all live longer if…”

  “For goodness sake!” I burst in, “Tommy’s great-grandmother had to have been ninety-eight if she was a day! Probably ate fried catfish and hush puppies three times a week all of her life.”

  “And she could have lived another twenty years if she had made wiser choices,” observed Mother with a knowing smile.

  “I give up!” I said, throwing up my arms. “Thanks for the breakfast, Mother. And remember, you’re an accessory after the fact. If I die of a fat embolism, I’ll come back to haunt you with nightmares of butter and cheesecake.”

  “Fat melts faster in heat, Paisley,” she said with a sly little smile. “You may not make it back up from down below with the butter.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Horatio shepherded us into the library after his breakfast of yogurt with honey, dry toast, and a banana. Mother smiled approvingly as she took her seat on one of the sofas next to him. I plopped carelessly down on the other one, sulking like the black sheep she perceived me to be. It was amazing how Mother had the power to send me back to childhood in disgrace with a mere sentence or two.

  “So, Horatio, now that you’ve had the soothing benefit of a few hours sleep and the more than adequate nourishment of a simple breakfast, tell us what we are to do next.

  And remember,” she admonished, wagging her finger, “I still vote to call Andy Joiner and return his notebook.”

  Horatio looked at me helplessly as he cleared his throat. I knew he hated to refuse his beloved Anna anything, but I didn’t mind at all. I was still mad at her. I decided to get him off the hook.

  “Forget it, Mother,” I snorted. “Horatio knows as well as I do that Andy Joiner and Bert Atkins are somehow involved in whatever is going on. Until we’re sure they’re wearing white hats instead of black ones we can’t call either of them. Even if we knew where Bert was,” I added.

  “White hats, black hats?” she asked with a perplexed frown on her face.

  “Old westerns,” Horatio and I laughed together.

  “By the way, Horatio,” I demanded, “you promised to tell us what is going on here. Spill it now, if you please.”

  “I very distinctly remember that I told you I would give you the benefit of my ‘meager thoughts’. I’m afraid we’ll need to do some more surveillance before I can come to any real conclusions.”

  “Oh, dear, not another sleepless night!” groaned Mother in alarm.

  “Not you, Anna, my sweet. I propose that we spirit you out of town to a motel somewhere away from Rowan Springs. Or perhaps,” he mused, “to one of the resort hotels near the lake. Yes! That’s quite the most perfect idea. That way Paisley and I will have a base of operations nearby.”

  “Nearby what?” I asked suspiciously. “Where are you and I going to be?”

  “Au bois, mon cherie,” he sang out. “To the woods!”

  While Horatio outlined his audacious plan, Mother and I watched him with open mouths. I felt like some prankish little boy’s mother listening to her son propose a trip to the pond to find a frog for his teacher’s desk drawer. Only this little boy wanted our whole-hearted approval.

  “I simply cannot believe it, Horatio. You are usually the most level-headed of men!”

  “I gotta agree with Mother. This is really a pretty hare-brained idea.”

  Horatio managed to look offended and perplexed at the same time.

  “My goodness,” he said smiling sheepishly. “I somehow expected a warmer reception to my proposal. Especially from you, Paisley. ‘Once more into the fray…’ and all that, I mean.”

  “T
he ‘fray’ wasn’t so much fun last time I looked. I almost got myself killed, just in case you forgot. Looking before you leap is highly underrated as an outdoor sport. Maybe we’d better try to think of…”

  “What other way is there, my dear?” interrupted Horatio. He stood in front of the fire—warming his hands before the flames. “We cannot go to the authorities. We both agree on that point. You know I’m a very cautious man as a rule, but this calls for taking some small risk.”

  “You call hiking ten miles into the woods in the dead of winter to sneak up on a stranger’s house a small risk?”

  “Yes, Horatio, my dear, you’re acting quite like a vigilante. There must be someone in authority we can turn to,” insisted Mother.

  “You tell me who, Mother. Horatio is right about that. The local cops, even Danny Hall, are off limits. And I’ve already thought about going back to the army base but I’m not sure who I could trust there.” I made a sour face as I added, “Ta’Ronda is definitely out.”

  Horatio sat down in the leather wing chair by the fireplace and took some time to light his pipe. The fragrant smoke rose slowly to the ceiling as we all sat in thoughtful silence. Finally Horatio cleared his throat and spoke.

  “I don’t mean to alarm either of you, but I must tell you some of my friends have given me to believe that Paisley may have stumbled into something of a very distressing nature.”

  He paused for a moment and watched us both carefully. When neither of us flinched, he smiled and continued. “If we do nothing, there is a fair chance we will be left alone to pursue our lives as we always have, in peace and contentment. I have come to this conclusion because no one has approached us for the last few days.”

  I did my best to keep my feelings from showing. I was torn with the question of whether or not to tell Horatio about the cigar band I had found on the patio. It had to have been dropped there before the electronic surveillance system was put in place three days ago. Bert Atkins had been here. I was sure of it.

  “However,” he went on in a very somber tone of voice, “there is the distinct possibility that at some time in the future, when we least expect it, something quite dreadful could happen to either of you. And that, my dear ones, is something an old man like me can hardly allow himself to contemplate.”

  He cleared his throat again and wiped a suspicious glint from his eye, then squared his shoulders and spoke in a firmer voice. “No. We must take care of business ourselves. We have no one else to count on except my old friends, the fogeys, as Paisley calls them. Their knowledge and experience is something we may come to appreciate above all else in the next few days.”

  He regarded us as we sat still and quiet. Mother’s face was hidden in shadow, and I wished that mine was. I was still fighting with my conscience. Ultimately, Mother was the one to speak.

  “I, for one, do not wish to have to look over my shoulder for rest of my life. Freedom is very important to me. I cannot have my freedom if I have to live in fear. I’m with you Horatio. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

  She stood up and went to his side to hold his hands in hers. It was one of the very few gestures of intimacy I had ever seen her make toward him.

  “I think we could all use something to drink,” she said, smiling at me. “Paisley’s had enough coffee to last her a lifetime, so I think I’ll make us some hot apple cider.”

  “That sounds lovely, my dear. And thank you for your vote of confidence. Perhaps while you’re in the kitchen I’ll be able to persuade Paisley to jump on our little bandwagon.”

  By three o’clock that afternoon we were the new and temporary residents of one of Jackson Lake Resorts luxury cabins. Horatio had studied the brochure carefully before he chose our spot. It sat high on the hillside overlooking the lake. There were no other cabins close by, so we also had a private dock. Each of us had a bedroom with a bath and a private balcony on the second floor. The downstairs was one large open area with a terrific kitchen and large living area with big comfortable sofas and armchairs scattered in front of a huge stone fireplace.

  The view was fantastic. It was the kind of place that convinces vacationing people of means that they must own a cabin on the lake. Business cards of real estate companies were discretely tucked around the kitchen, ready to take advantage of in case anyone might fall under the spell of the lush beauty of the natural surroundings.

  Horatio chose the only bedroom that faced away from the lake and toward the road. Mother and I decided to occupy the largest bedroom and leave the other one vacant so that Horatio could set up his telescope out on a balcony with a lakeside view. Aggie would sleep with Mother and me. She seemed a little disconcerted until she saw me unpack the down pillow and place it on one of the double beds. After her little ritual of turning and scratching, she settled down for her usual nap.

  Mother and I set up housekeeping in the kitchen. Since this was a “luxury” cabin, it was even furnished with an espresso machine and a food processor. With a happy smile on her face, Mother put away the mountain of groceries we had purchased. I think she quite liked getting away for a while. We all felt a little safer now that we were in an anonymous place. Even Horatio was whistling a happy tune until he fell head over heels down the steps and broke his ankle.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The hotel doctor insisted that we take Horatio to his office in town for an x-ray. Horatio fumed and fussed, but after an hour of arguing back and forth I could tell the pain had an upper hand. Horatio’s face had taken on an unhealthy pallor.

  I sat down beside him and handed him a damp washcloth so he could wipe the perspiration from his forehead. Mother and the doctor were in the kitchen quietly talking over treatment options. I was fairly certain they couldn’t hear us.

  “Horatio, you must go for an x-ray. You’re looking a little ragged around the gills. Please do what the doctor advises, if not for your sake then for Mother’s.”

  “Paisley,” he whispered in a tight voice, “if this thing really is broken, they will put me in a cast and I’ll be hors de combat for weeks. Instead of being a functioning soldier I’ll be a silly old man who lost his balance carrying your mother’s make-up case up a flight of stairs and fell on his bum. What will my friends think?”

  “You mean the ones in the nursing home, or the one in the wheelchair who’s paralyzed from the waist down?”

  He smiled ruefully then grimaced in pain.

  “Point well taken, my dear,” he sighed. “Very well, I’ll go like a lamb to the slaughter. But you must promise me one thing!”

  “Whatever it is, I promise,” I assured him.

  “Don’t let them put me under anesthesia, and don’t let them keep me in the hospital. Even if I’m in a cast, I can still protect you and Anna.”

  The doctor and I were able to help Horatio hobble out to the hotel van. The ride into the little town of Jackson Lake took about three minutes. The x-ray took ten. Horatio was lucky. Only one small bone in his foot was broken. The swelling and bruising were in response to a severely twisted ankle. Nonetheless, he would have to be in a cast for at least three weeks. The doctor also recommended bed rest for a couple of days until the swelling went down.

  Horatio put up quite a fuss about the bed rest, but I could tell he was vastly relieved that he wasn’t injured more seriously. After the cast was applied, he grudgingly accepted a small amount of pain medication and listened carefully to the doctor’s instructions. I agreed to fill a prescription for some mild pain killers and a sleeping pill, and the doctor lent Horatio a pair of adjustable crutches. When Horatio was ready, the nurse took us back to our cabin in the van.

  After we settled our patient on one of the sofas, I worked on a fire while Mother fixed our dinner. By the time our meal was ready, Horatio had dozed off. He was resting so peacefully we decided not to awaken him. Mother and I sat at the breakfast bar and ate by the firelight as we watched the moon come up over the lake.

  “How beautiful,” sighed Mother. “You forget how really
lovely the moon is until you see it reflected in the water.”

  “It’s a full moon,” I observed absently. “That should make things easier.”

  “Paisley! Don’t you get any crazy ideas about going off on your own tonight. I simply won’t allow it!”

  “Shhh, you might wake up Horatio,” I cautioned as I looked warily in his direction.

  “I will wake him up if I need his help in preventing you from doing something foolish.”

  “All right,” I lied, “I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay right here, I promise.”

  I got up and poked restlessly at the glowing embers.

  “Do you want some ice cream for dessert, dear?”

  “No thanks. I’ll bring in another log and then get a blanket for Horatio. Let him sleep downstairs tonight.”

  I stretched theatrically. “I think I’ll turn in early,” I offered, faking a yawn. “It’s been an exhausting day.”

  I turned to look at Mother. She looked as tired as I was pretending to be. I continued with my charade. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll move my things back to the other front bedroom since Horatio won’t be needing it for an observation point tonight. Maybe we’ll both sleep better that way.”

  She sighed and looked at me suspiciously. “I truly hope you’re not planning to take advantage of the situation, dear.”

  “Mother, relax. You need to save your worrying for Horatio. He’s going to drive you up a tree for the next few days. After he quits complaining about being a burden, he’s going to start asking for things. ‘Anna, my sweet, I really hate to be a bother,’” I mimicked, “‘but as long as you’re fetching my pipe and slippers, could you please bring me just the tiniest bit of that chateaubriand with béarnaise sauce? Oh, and perhaps, if you don’t mind, some of that divine pear clafoutis for dessert.’”

  Mother smiled gently in her old friend’s direction.

  “Of course, you’re right,” she admitted. “He will be hard to contain. And I am tired, I must admit. After all, you are right, it has been quite a day.”

  She patted me on the shoulder and kissed my cheek. “Good night, dear. Do you mind turning off the lights and seeing to the kitchen?”

 

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