Frank Bennett Adirondack Mountain Mystery Box Set

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Frank Bennett Adirondack Mountain Mystery Box Set Page 36

by S. W. Hubbard


  Frank reported on his encounter with the teenagers in Malone’s, and told Payne he’d continue to cruise by on the weekends to be sure the kids followed his directive.

  “Excellent,” Payne said. “Eliminating this problem is one of my top priorities. That, and hiring a replacement for Jake Reiger. By the way, what’s become of Jake’s camping gear?”

  "The state police lab still has it. Why?”

  “I like to have these things ... accounted for.”

  "I’ll keep you posted.”

  Payne took a breath, as if to continue arguing, then let it drop. They walked along in silence for a while.

  "How is Heather LeBron feeling?” Frank asked. “Recovered from her hypothermia?”

  “Much better. I think her experience on Lorton was instructive, both to her and the other students. She learned the necessity of cooperating with the group.”

  “When we found her, she seemed convinced the group had intentionally abandoned her. I wanted to talk to her about it, but the doctors wouldn’t let me see her last night, and when I went back this morning, she had already been released.”

  “Nonsense!” MacArthur Payne didn’t seem the slightest bit cowed by the suspicion in Frank’s questions. “Heather has been manipulating people with her skillful lies for so long, she’s come to believe her own stories. If she hadn’t alienated herself from the group, she would never have gotten lost.”

  “I understand she kicked up quite a fuss about coming back here when she was released from the hospital this morning. Said you were trying to kill her.”

  Frank thought this information—brought to him via Earl, whose aunt was one of the nurses at the hospital—would put Payne on the defensive, but he grinned broadly.

  "Of course she did—she had a whole new audience of doctors and nurses to play to. That child could give Meryl Streep a run for her money. But I’ve seen a definite improvement in her attitude since she’s been back. She’s reconciled herself to the work that lies ahead. As I said earlier, she had to accept the impossibility of running away.”

  Frank looked at Payne, swaying slightly with his muscular arms folded across his chest, the snow-dusted peaks of the Verona Range unfolding as his backdrop. If ever there were a man in control of his fiefdom, Payne was it. Maybe Heather’s attitude change had come from knowing her only chance of rescue had slipped away.

  “I find it a little odd,” Frank continued, “that the only student to be on both the Reiger campout and this hike was the one who got lost.”

  A spasm of annoyance creased Payne’s face. “I fail to see the connection. The last time you were here, we agreed that Jake’s death was an unfortunate accident. I don’t see how what happened to Heather changes that.” Frank wasn’t sure he saw it, either. All he knew was that he wanted to talk to Heather to be certain the two events weren’t linked. “I’d like to talk to Heather while I’m here.”

  Payne’s blue eyes stared ahead without blinking for an inordinately long time. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll have to go back to my office and check the schedule to see where she is at this time of day.”

  Payne pivoted and began to march back toward the administration building. Frank had to hustle to match his long strides.

  “So, how are all your new employees from Trout Run working out. . . Lorrie, Ray?” Frank hoped a little conversation might slow the man down.

  “Lorrie is developing into a marvelous Pathfinder. I’m very pleased with her work. She sets an excellent example for the students.” The irritated set of his shoulders relaxed a bit and he slowed to a more leisurely gait.

  “Glad to hear it,” Frank answered, trying not to sound breathless. “Uh, what about Ray—he’s not a Pathfinder, is he?”

  Payne chuckled. “I should hope not. He’s on the transportation team.”

  “Transportation team?”

  “He picks up new students from their homes and escorts them to the academy. We need someone strong— and how shall I say?—not too squeamish for the job.” Again, that jovial smile.

  So Ray’s description of how he’d brought the boy to the academy had been accurate, yet Payne seemed completely open about it.

  “Let me get this straight.” Frank stopped on the path. “Parents agree to have their kids brought here by force?”

  "Sometimes it’s the only way. I can’t emphasize enough how troubled these kids are, Bennett. In many cases, their families are afraid of them. You can’t expect them to arrive in the family station wagon as if they’re headed off to Harvard.”

  Payne wagged an instructive finger in Frank’s direction. “Take Heather LeBron’s family, for instance. They’ve been through hell the past three years. Heather has run away from home or from her school five different times. She’s crashed the family car, driving drunk and without a license. All they want is for her to be in a safe, secure environment, but Heather resists all their efforts. They had no choice but to bring her here under duress.”

  Payne gestured toward the cluster of buildings that lay ahead of them. “It’s a dirty job that I do here, Bennett, but it’s work that has to be done. Yes, it seems harsh that some of them come here with their hands tied. But if they weren’t coming to me, they’d be coming to you and your colleagues. You'd be handcuffing them and hauling them off to prison. Isn’t this a better alternative?”

  Frank offered a reluctant nod. He wasn’t at all certain that someone from the academy might not yet be led off in handcuffs.

  WHEN THEY RETURNED to Payne’s office, the headmaster checked a schedule and told Frank that Heather was currently on an outside work detail on the west side of campus. “It will be quicker if you drive there,” Payne said. “I’ll phone ahead to let them know you're coming. Take the access road off the main drive.”

  Frank did a three-point turn to get out of the parking area. As he slowed to turn left on the access road, he felt a thump from the back of the patrol car. Glancing up, he saw a bald head framed in his rearview mirror.

  Heather LeBron crouched on the trunk like a large alley cat. She must have leaped out of the shrubs that lined the road. He got out of the car and walked up to her, and before he could speak, she had her arms around him.

  “Take me with you, please!”

  A strong girl, Heather had a grip that was hard to break. Frank pulled her off the car and disentangled himself.

  “You’ve got to save me! They're trying to kill me here.”

  "Now, Heather, calm down. Tell me what the problem is.”

  Her eyes opened wide in panic. “There’s no time for that—get in the car and drive! I’ll explain on the way.”

  “I can’t take you away from your school, Heather. I need to—”

  She lunged forward and pummeled his chest with her fists. “I’m assaulting a police officer. Arrest me!”

  Frank grabbed at her flailing arms and caught the right one. With her left, she struggled to get at his service revolver.

  With one deft move, Frank flipped her against the patrol car and pinned her arms behind her back. “Enough! What the hell are you trying to prove?”

  She twisted her head sideways to look at him over her shoulder. Tears streaked her face and white showed all around the irises of her eyes. “I’m so afraid," she said between rasping breaths. “Someone else is going to die. I think it might be me. But even if it’s not, I don’t want to be here when it goes down.”

  “What—?” Frank began.

  “Heather! What are you doing away from your work detail?” Steve Vreeland was approaching from across the lawn.

  Heather slid out of Frank’s loosened grasp and straightened up as the young man drew closer. "Nothing,” she said with remarkable casualness. "This is the policeman who found me when I was lost on the hike. I was just thanking him again."

  Seeing Heather and Steve together, Frank was struck by how close they were in age. He couldn’t be more than three years older than the girl, yet Steve spoke in a steady, low voice of absolute authority, his eyes focus
ed unblinkingly on Heather. “You did not have permission to leave the work detail.”

  “I’m sorry, Pathfinder Steve. I should have asked permission.” Heather continued to recite woodenly, “This is an example of the impulsive behavior I must learn to control.”

  “This transgression will be written up in your book,” Steve said. “You can expect repercussions. Now, let’s go back to the work detail.” He jerked his head toward a group of kids trimming hedges at the rear of the main building.

  Frank felt a prickle of fear for Heather. As she turned to leave, he caught her hand. "I came to talk to Heather. I’ll walk her back over there when I’m finished.”

  Steve stood his ground. “That’s not possible,” he said in a level tone. “Heather has not earned the privilege of unsupervised visitation.”

  “Go ahead and call Payne—he’ll give you the go-ahead.”

  “No!” Heather yanked her hand away from Frank. “Let’s go,” she said to Steve, and strode away without a backward glance.

  Frank trotted after her. “Heather, wait!”

  But she never slowed her stride.

  Chapter 13

  The last glimmer of daylight faded as Frank drove back to the center of town. The mountains gradually disappeared, enveloped by the absolute darkness as he drove down the lonely stretch of road between the academy and the village. With no view, his ride was consumed by an uneasy internal debate.

  Had Heather been acting, or was she truly frightened? Was she scheming to get released from the school, or was something dangerous really going on there?

  When Frank had gone back to Payne, told him what had happened, and insisted on having Heather brought to him, Payne had acquiesced with an I-told-you-so smirk.

  “This is textbook behavior, Bennett. Classic stuff. Create a scene, and when that doesn’t work, pretend it never happened. I’ll get Heather for you, but I guarantee she’ll have nothing to say to you."

  Sure enough, when Heather was led into an empty classroom to talk to Frank, she had sat sullenly and refused to speak. He’d assured her that they were alone and that she could confide in him, but she answered with just one sentence: “Can you get me out of here?”

  “Heather, I can’t take you away without any evidence that you’re in danger or have been mistreated. Tell me everything that happened on the hike. Why do you think you were intentionally abandoned?”

  But Heather had turned her head toward the blackboard and refused to answer. No matter how he phrased the questions, no matter how he tried to probe what had happened on the campout with Reiger and the hike on Lorton, Heather met his persistence with an implacable stare. “Can you get me out of here?” she’d ask occasionally. And when he said, “No, not without cause,” she resumed her glowering pose.

  Payne said nothing when Frank gave up and left. He would’ve liked to wipe the smug smile off the headmaster’s face by putting Heather in the patrol car and driving away with her, but he had no legal standing to do so. Her parents had entrusted her to the North Country Academy and presumably that’s where they wanted her to stay. He wondered if they knew about the bear attack and the hike where Heather had been lost. Would that change their opinion of the academy?

  No point in asking Payne; of course he would claim they had been told. Tomorrow he would call the hospital and inquire if Heather’s parents had been notified of her hospitalization. Surely they would have to know, if their insurance was covering her treatment. Having a plan of action relaxed him a bit as he pulled into the center of town and surveyed the peaceful scene.

  The early dinner crowd filled the window tables at the diner, and the Store was doing a brisk business in last-minute dinnertime necessities. The trucks that had been parked in front of the old flower shop all day had departed, but Frank could see a light burning inside, a bare bulb that cast a harsh glow on the partially finished walls. No doubt the last person working on the library project had failed to turn off the light. He decided to check to make sure the door was locked. And maybe take a peek through the window to see how the work was coming along.

  Frank parked the patrol car and trotted up the steps. To his surprise, the doorknob twisted to the right although it took a hard push to get the warped old door to open. He hadn’t really expected it to be unlocked, and his cop’s instincts made him wary.

  Frank stepped into the front room, breathing in the smell of freshly sawn two-by-fours and something vaguely flowery. The studs for a half-wall separated this space from the area in the back, where the bare light-bulb dangled. A shadow moved across the floor.

  “Who’s there?” he barked, his hand instinctively moving toward his sidearm.

  A decidedly feminine shriek answered him, and Penny Stevenson poked her head around the corner. “Geez, Frank—don’t shoot. It’s only me.”

  Pleasure replaced tension as he saw her familiar teasing smile. “Sorry, Penny. Old habits die hard. I saw the light on but no cars parked outside, so I came over to check.”

  “I left my car parked over by the Store. Edwin wanted me to pick up nutmeg for something he’s making for dinner tonight, but of course they didn’t have any.”

  “I’m sure Edwin can improvise,” Frank said. “So, what do you think of the job they’re doing here? Are they following your specs?”

  “I’m so bad with spatial relationships—I couldn’t visualize what it would look like. But now that the partitions are up, I can picture it better.” She grabbed his hand. “Come here—look at this.”

  Her fingers felt cool and smooth grasping his. She couldn’t know that his heartbeat had quickened at her touch. If she did, she’d probably be horrified. He allowed himself to be led into the back room. In the far corner, three broad tiers of plywood formed what looked like big steps to nowhere.

  "See—it’s like a mini-amphitheater,” Penny said. “We’ll carpet the platforms and get some big squishy pillows. The kids can snuggle up there for story hour—” she made a broad gesture with her right arm, where some bracelets jangled “—while I sit down here in the middle—” she positioned herself to demonstrate “—reading the book, so everyone can see.” She looked up at Frank, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. “Isn’t that neat?”

  “It’s terrific,” Frank agreed. Penny’s zeal was infectious, but her words puzzled him. Surely she wasn’t planning on running the little library after she got it set up? “I didn’t realize you intended to be the librarian here.”

  Penny glanced away. “Well, I meant whoever’s reading the story would sit here,” she said softly. Then she brightened up again. “But I sure plan to do it at least once—for the grand opening.” She made a trumpet sound through her fists.

  Frank laughed. “And when’s that going to be?”

  “Who knows? The guys change the date every week. They seem to have hit some snafu with the plumbing.” Penny put her hands on her hips. “You're handy. How come you haven’t been over here helping? With the way you love to read, I thought you’d be our biggest supporter.”

  “I’ll be a loyal patron when it opens, I promise, but I’m leaving the construction to everyone else.” Frank scuffed his toe through the sawdust on the floor. “You know me, I’m not really one of the guys.”

  Penny took both his hands in hers. “I think most people in this town feel safer, knowing that you're not.”

  Compliments and hand-holding—was she flirting with him? Yeah, right—in his dreams. She was just being Penny, full of dramatic gestures.

  The sound of the door being wrenched open again drove them apart.

  “Penny, are you in here?” a male voice called, and Pastor Bob came around the corner. He nodded to Frank. “No problems, I hope."

  “No, I saw the light on and stopped to check. Penny is showing me around.”

  “The men are doing a wonderful job.” Bob shifted his brilliant blue gaze to Penny and smiled broadly. “I think Penny’s weekly inspections keep them motivated.”

  Bob stepped across the room to look more c
losely at the seating area, coming between Frank and Penny as he did so. “Say, the reason I tracked you down—my car won’t start and I wondered if you’d give me a ride over to the Iron Eagle. I called Edwin and he said you were probably here.”

  “Sure,” Penny answered. “I didn’t know you were coming to dinner tonight, too.” Then she turned to Frank. “Why don’t you join us, Frank? There aren’t any guests eating there tonight, but you know Edwin always makes enough to feed an army.”

  So, Lucy was speeding up the matchmaking process. Frank glanced at Bob. Part of him dearly wanted to accept the invitation, just to see what the other man’s reaction would be, but he shook his head. “No, Friday night is a work night for me. You two enjoy your dinner.”

  “Thanks, I’m sure we will,” Bob said as he ushered Penny out the door.

  Frank watched them cross the green as he locked the library door. He hoped whatever Edwin was making would be inedible without nutmeg.

  THE EVENING PATROL took him past the Stop’N’Buy, which had a few customers, and the Mountain Vista Motel, where the vacancy light was on, up to the Trail’s End. Bursts of music could be heard whenever the door opened, but the crowd didn’t look too big. Frank looped back down through the valley, passing the darkened buildings of Stevenson’s Lumberyard, and crossed the bridge over Stony Brook. On the other side, a car was pulled onto the shoulder with its hazard lights flashing.

  Frank pulled up behind the vehicle and approached the driver’s side as cautiously as he had been trained to years ago in Kansas City. The driver's door opened and a tall thin man jumped out. Frank tensed for a moment, then relaxed when he recognized Oliver Greffe.

  “Hello, Oliver, what’s the problem?”

  “Hi, Frank.” Oliver ran one hand through his shaggy, dark hair. “Maybe you can tell me. I’m hopeless with cars.”

  Raising the hood and shining his flashlight inside, Frank immediately saw the problem—the timing belt had snapped. The car would have to go to Al’s Sunoco, probably for the better part of a week.

 

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