by Hannah Reed
“You don’t have any say, Fischer. Come on Carrie Ann, let’s go.”
And he left me standing in front all by myself. My cousin turned back once with pleading eyes before they disappeared from view.
My plan had been to stick by Carrie Ann’s side through the whole unpleasant episode. My new plan was to camp out with Ben right where I was.
That all changed when Sally Maylor came through the door into the building and stopped to chat.
“He’s been running the show the whole time,” she admitted when I asked. “Guys like that don’t go down easy.”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
Sally gave me a crooked grin. “No,” she said, like she wished it were. “Eventually the newspaper will figure it out and report that he’s back. By then the police chief will have a spiel ready.”
“Why does he have his clutches in Carrie Ann?”
“He has a potential witness who says he saw her in The Lost Mile right before Lauren Kerrigan and Hetty Cross were murdered.”
That was not what I expected or wanted to hear. “But . . . but . . . who said that?”
“Can’t say. Go home. We’ll call you when she’s released, if you want.”
I called Hunter.
“It’s been a week since Hetty and Lauren were killed,” I said. “What’s happening with Johnny Jay?”
“Johnny Jay didn’t do it.”
“All the Kerrigans believe he did.”
Hunter let the silence grow and so did I.
“Johnny is questioning Carrie Ann right now,” I finally said.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Come down here and get her out. Or at least run interference for her.”
“You’re there? At the department?”
“Waiting for you.”
“Carrie Ann’s too close to me personally. I’m a lifelong friend and her AA sponsor. I consider it a conflict of interest to involve myself professionally at this point. The only right thing to do is distance myself from her while Johnny Jay does the questioning.”
“Where are you?”
“On my way to see Norm Cross.”
Call it intuition or premonition or whatever, but at that moment I knew exactly who the blabby witness was. Norm Cross had seen Carrie Ann in The Lost Mile.
Or so he said.
Thirty-three
Ben rode shotgun. We drove through Moraine and out the other side of town. I took Creamery Road, but didn’t turn down Norm’s road. I didn’t want Hunter to know what I was up to.
Whatever words those two exchanged, I’d get from Norm after Hunter left, since my almost boyfriend wasn’t exactly sharing content with me. In fact, he’d driven me into the shadows, literally, because that’s where I found myself.
It was pitch dark when I parked in Country Delight’s apple orchard, where I could watch the road without anyone watching me. Pretty soon I expected Hunter’s SUV to pull out onto Creamery Road. Then I’d go in. Even though I was doing this strictly to help my cousin out of a really bad jam, I felt like a cross between Nancy Drew and V. I. Warshawsky. Not a bad feeling. Of course, they solved their cases. I wanted to follow in their footsteps.
So I waited.
Only Hunter didn’t come back out onto the road. Had I missed him already? It had taken me less than ten minutes to hightail it out of the police station and hide in the orchard, and Hunter hadn’t been at Norm’s yet when I talked to him on the phone.
If I really had missed him, then Norm hadn’t been home when Hunter showed up and he’d left right away. What if I sat here all night thinking Hunter was with Norm when he wasn’t?
What to do?
I could drive past Norm’s and see if Hunter was there.
That’s what I decided to do.
As I crept slowly toward Norm’s, I kept my truck lights off to be on the safe side. I didn’t want Hunter to spot me if he was outside. Which isn’t what I should have been most concerned with.
Because the sound of sirens was coming my way. Sirens never were a good thing.
I pulled over and called Hunter.
“What’s with the sirens?” I asked, really hoping they weren’t cop sirens.
“Ambulance,” Hunter said, which wasn’t any better. “Norm Cross had a heart attack. At least, that’s what I think happened.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s alive, but barely.”
“Do you want my help?” I said.
“No, it’s late. I’ll stop by your place as soon as I can.”
So with that, I swung around and headed home, passing an ambulance and cop car on the way.
Norm Cross finally had one slab of bacon too many. I wondered if he’d make it and, if not, who would bury him, since he and Hetty hadn’t had any kids. Surely they had family someplace?
I was about to turn onto my street, when I remembered something important.
What about Dinky? Was she okay? What would happen to her with Norm in the hospital or worse, dead?
I swung around in the road, doing a complete one-eighty, and headed back. Ben gave me a questioning look from the passenger’s seat. “We have to make sure Dinky is all right,” I told him, wondering why I was explaining myself to a dog.
The ambulance’s strobes were still running but they’d killed the siren. No one was around the vehicle. I walked onto the porch and peered in. Lots of voices and motion inside. I waited.
Finally they brought an unconscious Norm out on a stretcher and loaded him into the back of the ambulance. Hunter came out last. He had Dinky in his arms.
I got the most grateful look as he handed over the baggage. “Found her hiding under the bed. Thanks for coming.”
I nodded but really wanted to jump for joy that Hunter was appreciating me. Even if it was only because he wanted to pawn off Dinky on me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I came to talk to him and found him on the floor.”
“With his size and the junk he ate, he’s lucky to still be alive.”
Hunter gave my arm a squeeze. “Thanks again. You’ll keep his dog for a few days?”
“Sure.” We watched the ambulance pull away, lights flashing, sirens wailing.
“Why did you need to talk to Norm?” I asked, digging for info on the Carrie Ann witness. “Is he still under suspicion?”
I could tell Hunter was conflicted over how much information was too much. Finally, he said, “Norm saw someone in the woods behind his house the night Lauren and Hetty were killed.”
“And he thought it was Carrie Ann,” I said.
Hunter nodded. “He wasn’t completely positive of the ID, but he was pretty sure the person was a woman with short, yellow hair.”
“Lots of women have short, yellow hair,” I said.
“Really? Who else around here?”
He had a point. Carrie Ann did have a certain unique flair.
“Why didn’t Norm come forward before now?”
“He did. We just didn’t act on his statement until now.”
How could my cousin have gotten herself into such a mess? And more importantly, how was I going to get her out? “I’ll go inside and get Dinky’s food and toys,” I said.
I knew exactly what to pack: food, chew toys, pink blankie, which was dirty again. How could it get that dirty that quickly? Norm’s bedroom, where I found the doggy blanket, was a pigsty like the rest of the house. Junk was piled everywhere.
Dinky ran under the bed and wouldn’t come out.
“Here, doggy, sweetie,” I said, pitching my voice higher while remembering why this animal drove me crazy. On my knees, I could see her peering at me, but she was out of reach. So I had to move the bed away from the wall and attack from that side. After a little back and forth, I had her.
When I moved the bed back, I jostled a nightstand and heard things falling to the floor. Not that anyone would notice if I left them scattered where they fell, but I started picking up what I could and putting things back where
they’d been. Most of what dropped turned out to be prescription meds. One was a bottle of medicine used for hypertension. Another’s instructions said to take when needed for anxiety.
“It’s late,” Hunter said when I handed him the bottles of medication. “Why don’t I follow you home and make sure you get inside safely, then I’ll drop these at the hospital and check on Norm.”
Which we did. And when he left I had custody of a wire-coated miniature terror named Dinky and a more welcome houseguest, Ben.
Hunter also left me with a nagging suspicion about events from the past, something buried deep in my mind that was trying to surface.
Thirty-four
I woke the next morning to a wet, slurpy tongue rolling across my face. For about six seconds I thought I was dreaming that Hunter was kissing me. Until I opened my eyes to a hairy face and cold, wet snout.
Oh jeez, it was Dinky.
Ben, on the floor, had his head down and one eye on us. He looked comfy.
I hadn’t slept this well since the bodies had been discovered in The Lost Mile. I was sure last night’s dreamland was because of Ben’s alert and guarding presence. How could I have been afraid of dogs for so long? I’d really missed out on the simple pleasure of an adoring companion who loved me no matter what I said or did. Unconditional. Through thick and thin.
I popped out of bed and started my daily routine, but not before letting Ben and Dinky out the back door. I started coffee, let them back in, showered, pulled on a yellow top and jeans, and fed the dogs. After refereeing so that Dinky didn’t steal Ben’s share, something I never expected Ben to allow, I made myself toast and spread it with honey butter.
Ali Schmidt called, and I told her what little I knew about Carrie Ann and then went on to relate what had happened to Norm, leaving out the whole bit about Norm thinking he’d seen Carrie Ann the night the women were murdered. Hunter had trusted me with inside information and I wasn’t going to blow that trust.
“Carrie Ann didn’t kill anybody,” I said to Ali instead.
“She has a lot going against her,” Ali said.
That really was true, but I wouldn’t give up. And I told Ali that. “We have to sit down and talk,” I said, “about the night Wayne Jay died.”
“Why? Let the past alone, Story. Besides, I wasn’t there that night. You know that.”
But T. J. was, I wanted to say.
Then Ali said T. J. had a cancellation later today and she’d inked—not penciled—me in to take care of my cavity. Not only that, she didn’t leave me the store as an excuse to dodge that novocaine-injected experience. She’d run over, she went on to say, and cover for me once I was snug in the dental chair.
Thank you very much, Ali, I thought, hanging up.
I hadn’t heard from Sally or anybody else from the police department advising me of Carrie Ann’s release, so I had to assume she was still at the station.
Hunter knocked on my door. He was dressed for fieldwork in jeans, Harley Davidson boots, and a light windbreaker issued by the sheriff’s department.
He gave me one of the sweetest kisses ever, one I wanted to curl up with until life returned to normal. Normal meaning the case closed, Johnny off my back, and a killer put behind bars.
“I’m picking up Ben,” he said. “We have a training session this morning.”
My heart sank into my stomach. “But, but . . . I need him.”
“Sorry, I can’t leave Ben with you today. Why don’t you plan on staying in public places? And no more agitating people who have anger management issues. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said, meeker than usual.
“I’ll escort you to the store,” he said, putting Ben in the passenger seat of his SUV to wait. Dinky was perfectly happy to ride in my arms.
“What’s the story with Carrie Ann?” I asked.
“She’s being held. That’s all I know. Can we talk about something else?”
“I’m not supposed to be concerned about my cousin?”
“I checked on her this morning. She’s okay.” Hunter grabbed my free hand and encased it in his own strong one. “Norm is still critical.”
“I hope he makes it.”
“Me, too.”
“It’ll be his word against hers, you know.”
“This whole thing will be over soon,” Hunter assured me.
We walked in silence the rest of the way. When I put Dinky down, safely on her leash for one last effort to do her business outside instead of in, Hunter gently put me up along the building and pressed into me.
“I miss you,” he said. “Let’s get away tonight, have a nice dinner at my place. I’ll cook.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
He put his fingers to my lips. “And no shop talk. Just you and me. Us.”
“I like that.”
“It’s starting to rain.”
“You better hurry back.”
By the time Hunter turned and walked away I had forgotten how annoyed I was with him. My mood had improved considerably. All he had to do was throw me a bone and I was all his. I watched him go, thinking he was strong and competent and he’d find the real killer soon. But at this point, whether he liked it or not, I was on the case, too. Carrie Ann needed me.
Rain broke from the sky as I scooted under the store’s awning and started my day. I had my own plans to help Carrie Ann. Ideas had come to me before I had gotten out of bed.
First, I didn’t know anything about investigating a crime or even following Carrie Ann’s trail on the crucial night she couldn’t remember. I hadn’t been trained, so I was learning as I went along. Second, I realized the only way to make headway was to be thorough, asking the right questions and following up on the replies, which I hadn’t been very good at.
Not to mention I was stuck at the store, a serious handicap.
Rain came down in buckets as the store’s lights went on. I’d be working alone until Holly showed up, which wouldn’t be anytime soon. I missed Carrie Ann already.
“Get over here as fast as you can,” I announced to Holly over the phone. “They took Carrie Ann in for questioning and it looks like they kept her. I’m alone at the store.”
“I’ll be right there,” my sister said. Amazing. A little attitude worked.
Or maybe not. Business was light for the next hour and a half, but Holly was still a no-show. Stu came in for his daily paper and we traded what we knew about Carrie Ann, which was next to nothing. I wondered when the man slept, since he closed his bar late and opened for lunch by eleven and was always the first one there in the mornings.
Owning your own business was a lot more work than people thought, unless they happened to end up in the same situation. They had to experience it to appreciate the time, money, and dedication it takes to become successful.
Aurora came in, dressed in tie-dye and hemp. She greeted me and wandered off to the natural organic section of the store. When she came back, our conversation involved the latest development concerning Carrie Ann. Aurora said again, “It’s fate.”
“Do you have a crystal ball?” I asked. “Because if you do, I’d like to look into it.”
Aurora smiled mysteriously, reminding me of the Mona Lisa. “Don’t I wish! Or maybe that would be a big mistake. Because then I’d know the outcome and still not be able to stop it. That is, if I didn’t like what the future held.”
I thought she might be right.
“Everything that happens is a reaction,” she said, happy to have someone paying attention.
“The past determines the present and future,” I said. “I remember you saying that when Lauren was killed.”
“That’s right. If you want to understand current events, study what happened before. But I warn you, nothing you do will change the outcome.”
With that ill boding comment, Aurora walked out into the rain with her small bag of groceries, slowly, like she didn’t mind getting wet. Or maybe she just didn’t notice.
The past kept coming up.
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br /> All right, I decided, let’s go there.
I’d assumed, just like everybody else, that Lauren had killed Wayne Jay. If the medical examiner was right and someone else had been driving instead, who could it have been? Anybody, that’s who.
But to let an innocent young woman spend all those years in prison for a crime she didn’t commit? That was wrong on so many levels. Evil.
I kept up small talk with the handful of customers who came through. Then Holly arrived. Finally. And I brought her up to speed about Carrie Ann’s problems and Norm’s heart attack.
“Now what?” Holly asked.
“I’m going to dissect every minute of that night sixteen years ago. How hard can it be?” What I really wondered was if Holly would draw the same conclusion as I was tossing around in my head.
“I can’t remember much,” I told her. “The six of us—me and Hunter, Carrie Ann and Gunnar, T. J. and Lauren—walked into The Lost Mile together. Then Lauren got mad at T. J. and left before the rest of us. That’s all.”
“Think. Then what happened?”
“Nothing. We all watched her go, then we split up. T. J. went to catch up with her, but that was a while later, and he didn’t find her. The rest of us walked out later, still watching for Lantern Man, who never did show up. End of story.”
I gulped before continuing. “Well, not exactly the end of the story. The medical examiner told me he thought someone else might have been driving the car that night. I didn’t really believe him. He’d been drinking and it seemed farfetched. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking, what if?”
“For cripes sakes, as Mom would say,” Holly said with gathering excitement, since she was a sharp cookie. “And T. J. followed her!”
“I didn’t remember about that until just a little while ago. It wasn’t important at the time, since nobody ever considered that anybody other than Lauren had been driving.”
“And how do you know T. J. didn’t find her?”
I paused. “I think he told me.”
“When?”
“Back then, but later.”
“Oh my gosh!” Holly and I stared at each other. We’d drawn the same conclusion. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. And they had nothing to do with Johnny Jay.