“Looks like whatever misunderstanding there was between you and Susan is over,” Kit whispered.
“Pretty much.”
“So, what’s the deal?” Kit glanced at the doorway leading to the living room.
“Damn, you’re nosey.” Brandon chuckled.
“I like her, by the way. So does Sarah.”
“That’s good, because so do I.”
“Sarah, let’s take this in the living room, and you can watch Cinderella.” Kit headed to the doorway carrying a glass of milk and plate of cookies.
• • • •
“Oh my god, Sarah was telling the truth.” Kit stared at the lock of blonde hair, partially wrapped in the crumbled toilet paper. Brandon had set it on the kitchen table before her. Gently she unfolded the paper to better inspect the hair. Susan and Brandon sat down at the table with Kit. Sarah was in the living room, watching a movie and eating cookies.
“You say you found this in that woman’s bathroom?” Kit asked.
“Susan did when she used her bathroom. It looks like Sarah’s hair to me. The only two people at that cabin are the Summerses—he’s bald, and she has gray hair.”
“It looks like Sarah’s hair, and it’s the right length—about what was taken. Of course, if necessary, it can always be tested to prove it’s Sarah’s. That officer didn’t believe us; this will prove Sarah was telling the truth.” Kit looked at her brother.
“We have a little problem with that,” Brandon said.
“What do you mean?” Kit frowned.
“Apparently, the officer who was here this morning is Harriet Summers’ younger brother,” Brandon explained.
“I don’t understand.” Kit looked from Susan to Brandon.
“The woman who cut Sarah’s hair,” Susan said. “She’s the older sister of the deputy—the officer who talked to Sarah this morning.”
“Then we talk to someone else!” Kit hit the table with her fist.
“I agree, but first we need to figure out who we should go to. I don’t want this swept under the carpet,” Brandon said. The three sat in silence for a few moments, each considering the situation.
“I have an idea,” Susan said at last. “Talk to Carol, see who she thinks you should go to with this. She’s been coming up here for years. Carol seems to have a good relationship with the local sheriff’s office, knows many of the people who own cabins up here. She even knows who Harriet Summers is. In fact, she called her an odd duck. Not only is Carol Kit’s friend, it’s in Carol’s best interest to get to the bottom of this. She’s responsible for the safety of all the girls over at Camp Shipley. What the Summers woman did does make her look like someone who was preparing to abduct Sarah. And remember, I ran into Harriet up at Trail’s Chapel where she was—by her very words—looking for a little girl. Yet, she denied knowing anything about Sarah.”
“Damn. That thought gives me chills. I think you have a good idea, Susan.” Kit stood up from the table. “I’m going to put the hair in something, so we don’t lose it. I don’t want a breeze to whisk it away before we can prove what Sarah said was true.” Brandon and Susan watched as Kit took an empty glass jar from the kitchen cabinet and tucked the hair and toilet paper inside the container.
“I’m going upstairs to call Carol. Can you keep an eye on Sarah?” Kit asked.
“Sure, Kitty.” Brandon watched his sister leave the room, taking the glass jar with her.
“She’s been through so much these last few months,” Brandon said after Kit left the room. Susan reached over and placed her hand over his.
“You’re a good brother, Brandon.”
“Is that why you let me kiss you?”
“That… and the fact I think you’re cute.”
Brandon laughed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Harriet Summers awkwardly made her way into the cabin carrying two bags of groceries. The sweat pants and shirt she wore were just one set of four pairs she owned—all the same color blue. It made it easier to do laundry. The strand of pearls around her neck had once belonged to her mother, and before that, her mother’s mother. They were to go to her daughter someday, but Harriet Summers no longer had a daughter.
She ignored Ed, who was sitting in his wheelchair on the other side of the room, and went straight to the kitchen. After setting the groceries on the small oak table, she returned to the living room.
“Do you have more?” Ed asked.
“Three more sacks.”
“You know, it would be easier for you to carry in the groceries if you let them put it in plastic bags instead of paper sacks,” Ed reminded.
“You’ve told me that before. But I don’t like plastic bags.”
“I don’t know why you make things so difficult, Harriet,” Ed said with a sigh.
Harriet went back outside to bring in the rest of her groceries while Ed sat in his wheelchair and watched. After she brought in the last bag, Ed followed her into the kitchen.
“I’ll make you lunch as soon as I put these away.” Harriet hurriedly unpacked the groceries.
“That’s okay. I’m not hungry.” Ed sat in his wheelchair and watched his wife.
“Did you eat something while I was gone? I told you I’d be back in time to make you lunch.”
“I’m perfectly capable of making my own sandwich.”
“Well, did you?” Harriet paused for a moment and looked at Ed.
“Did I what?”
“Did you make yourself a sandwich while I was gone?”
“No. But I could have, if I was hungry.”
“You always say that, but then you don’t eat.” Harriet stopped putting away the groceries and started making Ed a sandwich.
“When were you at Trail’s Chapel?” Ed asked.
Harriet looked up from the slices of bread she’d just placed on the counter. “What are you talking about?”
“When did you go up to Trail’s Chapel? A woman stopped by this morning and said you’d been up there yesterday afternoon and wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
“Then I suppose I must have gone up there yesterday afternoon,” she snapped.
“It was raining yesterday afternoon.”
“So? I don’t melt in the rain.” Harriet slapped slices of ham on the bread.
“I don’t like you hiking alone.”
“I like to hike. And I can’t hike with you anymore.” Harriet added cheese and mayonnaise to the sandwich.
“And whose fault is it?” Ed snapped.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” Harriet said, her voice barely a whisper.
“I’m sorry. But really, Harriet, hiking up there during a storm… It isn’t safe.”
“You said a woman stopped by?” Harriet looked up from the sandwich as if she’d just processed what he’d said about a visitor.
“Yes, she and a man. I don’t remember their names.”
“Why was she here?” Harriet cut the sandwich in two and set it on a plate.
“I told you, she said she was worried about you, wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Harriet handed Ed the plate.
“And that’s all? She just stopped by to check on me?”
“So, you do remember meeting someone?” Ed took a bite of the sandwich.
“Yes. She was in the chapel. But I only talked to her for a minute.” Harriet frowned. “I never told her my name. How did she know who I was? Where I lived?”
Ed responded with a shrug and took another bite of his sandwich.
“Did she say anything else? Ask you any questions?”
“No, not really. She asked for you, and when I said you you weren’t here, she asked if you got home alright. That’s about all she said.”
“She didn’t ask you any other questions?”
“No, like I said, she really didn’t say much beyond that. I chatted a little with her friend when she went to the bathroom.”
“Went to the bathroom?”
“Yes. I couldn’t v
ery well tell her she couldn’t use our bathroom.”
“What did you talk to her friend about?” Harriet asked.
“Nothing really beyond the weather. Would you pour me a glass of milk?”
“I still would like to know how she found out where I live.” Harriet poured a glass of milk and handed it to Ed before going back to putting her groceries away.
“I don’t know. Is there a problem?”
“I just don’t like strangers following me back to my cabin, invading my privacy.”
As Harriet put the rest of the groceries away, Ed finished his sandwich and drank his glass of milk. Harriet neatly folded the empty paper sacks and put them on top of the refrigerator with the rest of the paper bags she’d accumulated. She then took the empty glass from Ed and washed it in the sink. After drying it, she placed it back in the overhead cabinet. Without saying anything to her husband, she walked to the bathroom off the kitchen.
Once inside the bathroom, she closed the door. Sitting on the toilet seat, Harriet thought about the visitor, wondering how and why the woman had tracked her down. Glancing to the sink, she noticed the scissors she’d left there the night before. Looking down at the trashcan, she thought of why she had used the scissors.
It took her brain a moment to register what she was seeing—or more accurately, what she wasn’t seeing. Panicked, she hastily finished and quickly hiked up her pants. Standing up, Harriet picked up the trashcan and started rummaging through it. There was the empty toilet paper roll she’d tossed in the can that morning, several tissues she’d used to blow her nose the night before, and several balls of soiled cotton, but there was no blonde hair.
“Ed!” Harriet shouted as she raced from the bathroom. Ed was no longer in the kitchen, but had wheeled himself back into the living room.
“What are you shouting about?” Ed asked, looking up from a book he was reading.
“Did you take anything out of the bathroom trash can?”
“Are you asking if I dumped the trash? No, of course not. You know I can’t get out to the garage where we keep the trash cans.”
“No, I’m asking if you took anything out of the trash. It hasn’t been dumped.”
“Why would I take anything out of the trash?” Ed asked incredulously.
“Because something is missing!” Harriet shrieked. “That woman! Oh my god, that woman was in the trash!”
“You aren’t making any sense Harriet. Why in the world would that woman want to go through our trash?”
“If you didn’t take it, then she must have!”
“What did you do, drop an earring or something in there?”
“Of course not. If I dropped an earring in the trash, I wouldn’t have left it in there.”
“Then what are you so upset about? I can’t imagine that young woman was digging around in our bathroom trash, but if she did, so what?”
“Ed, you don’t understand. You don’t understand anything. You never did!” Harriet shrieked.
“What have you done this time, Harriet?” Ed asked in a chilling tone.
“You let the woman in here. This is your fault, Ed. Why do you always do this?”
“What have you done?” Ed again asked.
“Did that woman give you her name?”
“Yes, but I don’t remember. Tell me Harriet, what is this about?”
“Please, Ed, for once, help me.”
“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing all these years?”
“Please, Ed, try to remember her name.”
Ed thought for a moment. What had the woman said?
“I remember, she said something about being a counselor at one of the camps.”
“Which one?” Harriet asked.
“I don’t remember which camp. There are only two up here. Her name was Sally or Susan… maybe Cindy.”
“This friend she was with, what did he look like? Do you remember his name?”
“No. She said it so quick. I don’t remember. He was a nice looking young man, blond, about Stan’s age. What did she take, Harriet? What has you so upset?”
“I want to go home,” Harriet blurted out as she paced the living room floor.
“Home? We’ve only been here a week. What’s wrong Harriet? You need to tell me.”
“Why, so you can do what?” Harriet spat.
“I don’t know. I have no idea what has you so upset. But if you’ve done something, you need to tell me.”
Harriet stared at Ed. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. She’d seen that look before. Of course, he was in a wheelchair now, so what could he really do, she asked herself. However, it was foolish to push him—she’d learned that once before. Taking a deep breath, Harriet forced a smile and tried to appear calm.
“I’m just being silly,” she said at last.
“What was in the trashcan?”
“Nothing really—I mean nothing of value. I just know it was fuller—something is missing.”
“Are you seriously telling me you got this upset because we have less trash in our bathroom can?”
“When you put it that way, it does sound silly. But I’m always reading how snoopy reporters are going through people’s garbage, trying to find secrets.”
“Why would…” Ed didn’t finish his sentence.
“Yes, why would anyone want to rummage through our garbage?” Harriet finished the sentence for him. “I’m going upstairs to take a nap. It’s been a long day.” Without another word, Harriet turned and left the room, making her way up to the bedroom she no longer shared with her husband.
• • • •
Upstairs, Harriet sat on the side of her bed and picked up the telephone and dialed her brother’s phone number.
Deputy Anderson answered his phone, “Hello?”
“Hi, Jimmy. This is Harriet.”
“Hi, Harriet, how are you doing? How is Ed?”
“We’re fine. I just wanted to know, did they find that little girl that was missing?”
“Yes. She’d just wandered off from her cabin, found her own way home.”
“So she was okay?” Harriet asked.
“Yes, but her mother and uncle called me up there today over some cockamamie story about someone cutting the little girl’s hair.”
“Cutting her hair? What do you mean?”
“No big deal. A piece of her hair had been cut off; you could barely notice. The kid was probably playing with scissors, and her mother overreacted, insisted someone had cut her hair while she was missing. But the kid came home herself and didn’t say anything about anyone trying to take her. Just an overreacting parent.”
“I’m glad to hear she’s okay. Where is she staying?”
“Not far from you. They’re renting the Hunter cabin. The one next to the Lewises’.”
“You said her uncle and mother. Doesn’t she have a father?”
“No, I guess he was killed a few months back. Some sort of robbery.”
“That’s so sad… This uncle… what does he look like?”
“Nice looking guy I guess, around thirty, blond. Why?”
“Just curious. Wondered if I’ve seen him around.”
“He was in one of the search parties—teamed up with a counselor over at Camp Shipley to help look for the girl. I guess the gal sprained her ankle a bit, got her stranded up at Trail’s Chapel. He went back and got her on horseback. Fortunately that was the extent of any accidents with the search, and according to the doc, she’s probably up and running today. Good ending all around.”
“You don’t happen to know her name?”
“Actually, I do. Susan Thomas. Why?”
“Just curious, Jimmy.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I guess I’ll see you over at Carol’s office later this afternoon.” Susan stood by the side of her car in the Lewises’ driveway.
“Thanks for helping us in this.” Brandon noticed a lock of Susan’s hair had escaped her scrunchy and was about to fall over her righ
t eye.
“Of course, I’ll do whatever I can to help. I think Carol had a good idea, meeting at her office. If your sister just showed up at the sheriff’s station to talk to Carol’s friend, he might not take your concerns seriously. At least Carol can vouch for your sister—and voice her own concerns.”
“I agree with you.” Brandon leaned toward Susan and brushed the stray lock of hair away from her eye, tucking it behind her ear. He gave her a light kiss on the mouth, then moved backward. Gazes locked, they were both silent for a few moments before Susan spoke.
“What are we doing, Brandon?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“What do you mean?”
“This… the kisses… the hand holding…”
“I thought we agreed we could start over.” Brandon looked slightly confused.
“But what does that mean, start over? There really wasn’t an us before. I mean, we had that night… but…”
“As I remember, it was a hell of a night.” Brandon smiled.
“I agree. But when we first met, you offered to be—what did you call it—a rebound lover? Someone between my failed marriage and my next relationship.”
“Is that how you see this?” Brandon narrowed his eyes.
“I just want to know how you see this. You wanted honesty, and that’s what I am trying to give you—honesty. I don’t want to assume one thing and learn later that the reality is something else. I already made that mistake with us once, and I don’t want to do it again. I guess what I’m asking, what do you want from us? To be fuck buddies?”
“Did you just say fuck buddies?” Brandon about choked on the term. He didn’t know if he should laugh or be pissed. By the blush on Susan’s face, it was obvious she’d embarrassed herself.
“Okay… maybe friend’s with benefits. I don’t know; this is a first for me.” Susan flushed.
“Now that I think about it, when you approached me at After Sundown, your proposition had nothing to do with a relationship…. more along the fuck buddy lines.”
“Oh, shut up!” Susan suddenly wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “Please don’t remind me!”
Brandon laughed, then stepped closer and pulled Susan to him. “Sure, I’d love you for a fuck buddy,” he whispered in her ear. “Providing I was your only buddy.”
Sundered Hearts Page 15