Fact or Fiction_A Sam Prichard Mystery

by David Archer

  Sam’s eyebrows were trying to crawl over the top of his head. “Are you sure about this? That sounds like I’m trying to find a girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, but it gives a reason for trying to find the woman who used to wear the stupid hat. Other women around here, if they knew someone who wore one like it, they’ll call just to try playing Cupid. Trust me, this is how you get to the people around this area.”

  Sam shook his head, not entirely convinced. “O-kay, if you say so. What’s your email address?” Girardi gave it to him and Sam repeated it so that Indie could send him the picture. “Okay, now how much do I owe you?”

  “Nada, zip. You already promised me the first call, remember? That’s enough. Let me go—if I hustle I can get this in this evening’s edition.”

  The phone went dead, and Sam shook his head once more. “I think I’m going to let you answer my phone tonight,” Sam said. “Girardi just made me sound like some kind of Casanova trying to find his lost love. I’m almost afraid of who might call.”

  Indie smiled sweetly at him. “Don’t worry, Sam,” she said. “I’ll protect you.”

  Sam called the front desk of the motel and found out that, yes, they did receive copies of the newspaper every day, and that they were usually delivered between six and six thirty. It was just a little after five, though, so there was not much to do but wait.

  Unfortunately, Kenzie had been cooped up in a motel room for most of the day and had had her fill of it. She didn’t want to watch TV as much as she just wanted to go run and play, so Sam googled local parks and found that there was one just a few blocks away.

  “Sam, let us take her,” Grace said. “After what you’ve been through today, you need to stay here and just rest and recuperate.” Both Sam and Indie had to stifle a laugh as Grace’s eyebrows bounced up and down pointedly. “I think you two need some alone time, anyway. Kim and I can take Kenzie, and we’ll bring back sandwiches or something later.”

  Sam grinned and started to toss her the keys to the truck, but she waved them away. “Keep those. We need the exercise anyway. We’ll see you kids later.”

  She took hold of Kenzie’s hand and started toward the door, and Kim grabbed her purse to follow. A moment later, Sam and Indie were alone. They looked at each other for a few seconds, each of them with a slowly spreading grin, and then Sam got up and put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door before locking the dead bolt.

  *

  The park turned out to be farther away than it had appeared on the computer screen. Grace and Kim walked slowly, each of them holding on to one of little Kenzie’s hands and delightedly answering her questions about trees and birds and the occasional flower that was still visible this late in the year. Both ladies enjoyed their time with the little girl, and Kenzie adored her grandmothers.

  Both ladies, however, wished they had even a fraction of the child’s energy. By the time they made it to the park, they were carefully pretending not to be as out of breath as they were and silently vowing to themselves that they would make a point of getting a lot more exercise in the future.

  The road that led to the park was long and meandering, winding through trees and man-made hills. They finally arrived at the playground more than thirty minutes after they had left the motel, and happily plopped themselves onto a bench while Kenzie leapt onto a spring-mounted horse and rocked it to the point that both tail and nose occasionally touched the ground.

  They weren’t in that bad of condition, though, not really. By the time Kenzie was ready to get on the swings, they were rested enough to get up and take turns pushing her. Accompanied by cries of “Higher,” and “Look at me, way up here,” the two ladies laughed and enjoyed the child’s antics.

  A number of families were there, and it didn’t take long before Kenzie found some playmates. As long as she stayed within eyesight, her grandmothers were content to sit on the bench and let her play.

  Ninety minutes later, they were still watching. They had long ago mastered the skill of keeping at least one eye on the little girl while chatting between themselves, and they exercised it that afternoon. They had to lean close to each other, though, because the area was ringing with the sounds of children’s laughter and squeaky playground equipment.

  “So,” Grace said after a lull in the conversation, “we haven’t heard much out of Beauregard the last couple of days. Is he saying anything lately?”

  “Not a lot,” Kim said. While she knew that Grace occasionally thought she was a bit on the loony side, she was comfortable enough with her friend to just speak honestly. “I think he’s a little bit worried, though. He’s been a lot more quiet than usual. He gets that way sometimes, when he’s trying to figure something out and his visions or whatever don’t seem to be coming through.”

  “Well, he’s got a pretty impressive track record. I mean, we really did find his descendants, and at least some of them really are in trouble. Any new information on who this woman is that’s supposed to be in danger?”

  Kim shook her head. “He said yesterday he still couldn’t get anything more on that. I just hope that Sam can figure it out before anything bad happens.”

  “He will,” Grace said with conviction. “It’s what he does. Sometimes it takes him a little while, but he always gets to the truth before he’s done.”

  “That’s true, he always does.” She focused both eyes on Kenzie for a moment, but the child was having a blast on the seesaw with another little girl her age. Kim turned back to Grace. “I think—I think maybe I’m beginning to believe that Sam is right.”

  Grace looked at her and raised one eyebrow. “Right about what?”

  Kim gave her a sad smile. “About Beauregard maybe not being a real ghost. About maybe it’s really me that gets these flashes of insight, you know?”

  Grace focused on her. “And what’s bringing this change of opinion about?”

  Kim shrugged and looked down at the ground for a moment. “Ever since Beauregard first came into my life, he’s always been there. It’s not like being with a human friend, because sometimes you’re still alone. Your friends go home, or even like you and me, you go in your room and I go in mine. There are sometimes when you’re not with another person. With Beauregard, though, I’ve always been able to feel him with me. To be honest, it was a little embarrassing at first, because he was even there when I was taking a bath or changing clothes, but—well, I got used to it, I guess. I stopped worrying about it. I mean, it’s not like having an actual man in the room, right?”

  Grace chuckled, despite herself. “I suppose not,” she said. “But has something changed lately?”

  Kim looked over to check on Kenzie and then turned back to her friend. “Yeah, sort of. Ever since we knew that Sam had actually found Henry Beauregard’s descendants, he’s been more distant. It’s like sometimes he actually goes away, and he’s never done that before.”

  “I see,” Grace said. “And have you asked him where he’s going at those times?”

  Kim sighed and shook her head. “I’ve tried, but he just ignores the question. To be honest, I haven’t felt them at all since about dinnertime yesterday.”

  “Okay, and what about those flashes of insight? Have you had any?”

  Kim bit her bottom lip for a moment, then shrugged. “I think—maybe I did.”

  Suddenly she had Grace’s undivided attention. “Really? Like what?”

  “Well,” Kim began slowly, “there’s this phrase that just keeps running through my mind, and I’m not sure what it means. It goes, ‘The killer is not as old as you think, but far more ruthless than you can ever imagine.’ Does that make any sense?”

  Grace stared at her for a few seconds. “Wait. ‘Not as old as you think, but more ruthless than you imagine.’ That’s what you said, right?”

  Kim nodded. “Yeah, that’s what keeps going through my mind. I don’t know what it means—it doesn’t seem like it really means anything.”

  “Kim, when did this start?”

 
; “Last night,” Kim said. “I woke up, it was about midnight, and that phrase just kept running through my mind. It took me a little while to get back to sleep, but it was still there when I got up this morning. I tried to ask Beauregard about it, but there was no sign of him today.” She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again. “There still isn’t. He’s just gone.”

  Grace glanced over at Kenzie to make sure she was safe, then looked at Kim again. “Why haven’t you told Sam about this? It’s not any weirder than some of the stuff Beauregard has made you tell him.”

  Kim shrugged again. “I don’t know,” she said. “It just seems weird to me, saying that I’m thinking of something like this. It’s always been Beauregard who came up with all this stuff, not me.”

  “Except that what you’re saying is that you are starting to believe it really was you all along. Kim, some of those strange things Beauregard told you to tell Sam actually ended up saving his life. Remember when you had to tell him to watch out for the man with the red eye? That not only helped save Sam’s life, it helped him save a lot of other people’s lives.”

  “I know, I know,” Kim said. “And you’re right, I should tell him.” She sat there and looked at Kenzie for a few more seconds, then turned back to Grace. “Listen, can you watch Kenzie for a few minutes by yourself? I’m going to give Sam a call. I think maybe I should tell him about this right now, don’t you?”

  Grace nodded. “I think maybe that would be a good idea,” she said. She looked around for a moment. “It’s awful noisy right here, though. Maybe if you go over behind the little bathroom building, it might be quieter there. I’ve got Kenzie, don’t worry.”

  Kim gave her a sheepish grin and got up from the bench, walking in the direction Grace had indicated. The bathrooms were housed in a small brick building, and she nodded at a short, stocky woman who was leaning against the building as she walked past the entrance to the ladies’ room. The noise level was definitely lower when she stepped behind the little structure, she noticed.

  She took out her phone and found Sam’s number in her contacts.

  *

  It was nearly ten minutes later when Grace realized that Kim had never come back. She looked toward the bathrooms but saw no sign of her friend. A brief moment of worry passed through her mind, but she brushed it off and went back to watching Kenzie running with four other children, apparently playing tag. The sight was delightful, and Grace found herself smiling as she forgot all about Kim.

  After five more minutes, however, the worry was back. Grace rose to her feet and took a few steps toward the bathrooms, but her need to keep an eye on Kenzie was too great to let her walk away. She turned back toward the child and started to call her name, but then she saw the parents of two of the other children sitting on another bench nearby.

  “Excuse me,” she said as she approached them. “That’s my granddaughter over there,” she said, pointing at Kenzie. “I need to run over to the bathroom for a moment—would you mind just watching her for a few seconds? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

  The young couple smiled at her and agreed, and Grace turned quickly to hurry off toward the bathroom building. She stepped around behind it, where she had seen Kim go to make a phone call, but there was no sign of her. Now starting to be genuinely concerned, she ducked into the ladies’ room and called out, but there was no one inside.

  She came out and looked frantically around, but there was no sign of her friend anywhere. Grace pulled her phone out of her purse as she walked quickly back toward the playground, and hit the speed dial button that would connect her directly to Sam.

  “Hey, Mom,” Sam answered, but she cut him off before he could say anything else.

  “Sam! It’s Kim—she’s vanished. Did she call you?”

  “Call me? No, my phone hasn’t rung until just now. Where did she go?”

  Indie, lying beside him on the bed, suddenly raised up on her elbow and stared at Sam. “Kenzie?” she asked, but Sam shook his head.

  “Your mother,” he said. “Mom says she disappeared.” He put the phone on speaker so Indie could hear.

  “She walked away to find a quiet spot to call you, Sam,” Grace went on. “That was like twenty minutes ago, and I can’t find her anywhere. Do you think she might have just started walking back toward the motel without telling me?”

  “No, she wouldn’t do that,” Indie said. “Did you check the bathrooms? Maybe she had to…”

  “She’s not there. There’s only one bathroom close by, and I checked, she’s not there. Sam, I’m really worried.”

  In the motel room, Sam was already getting into his clothes. “Mom, we’ll be right there. If she is walking back, we should probably spot her on the way. Just stay put, but close to the road so I can find you.”

  “All right, Sam. Kenzie and I are at the first playground you come to, you can’t miss it. And Sam? Hurry.”

  “I will,” Sam said. He cut off the call and shoved his feet into his shoes while Indie was struggling into her jeans. They were both mostly dressed within a minute and hurried down to the elevator.

  They got into the truck and left the parking lot of the motel, then went east for a couple of blocks before turning south. The park was about eight blocks down that street, but it turned into a winding road at that point and weaved around the park itself. The speed limit there was only ten miles per hour, so it was almost four minutes before they spotted Grace and Kenzie standing beside the roadway.

  Sam pulled up and came to a stop, and Grace yanked open the back door. She picked Kenzie up and sat her inside, and the child quickly got into her car seat. Grace climbed in beside her and buckled her up, then put on her own seat belt, chattering the entire time.

  “I kept looking, Sam, but there’s no sign of her around here. It’s like she just vanished into thin air.”

  “But where could she have gone?” Indie asked. Both she and Sam were frantically searching the area with their eyes, but Kim was nowhere to be found. “Why did she walk away from you?”

  “She was telling me that she’s starting to think you’ve been right about Beauregard all along, Sam. She said she hasn’t heard from Beauregard since last night, but she woke up in the middle of the night with something going through her mind and it was still doing it this morning. It’s the kind of thing Beauregard always says, something crazy that doesn’t make any sense but might give you a clue, you know? I told her maybe it was important and she should’ve told you, so she went to call you and that’s when she disappeared.”

  “But why did she walk away from you?” Indie asked. “That’s what I don’t understand.”

  “The noise,” Grace said. “It was so loud around the playground that she went over behind the bathroom building so it would be quieter. Oh, dear Lord, I actually suggested that to her. We could barely hear each other while we were sitting on the bench, because of all the kids playing and laughing and the noisy swings and everything, so I told her maybe she could go behind that building so she could hear you better.”

  “Well, we didn’t pass her on the way,” Sam said. “This is a one-way street, so if she got confused and headed out the other direction, we’ll find her on the way out. Everybody keep looking, okay?”

  “I am, I am,” Indie said. “Grace? What was it she wanted to tell Sam, do you know?”

  “It was about the case, I think. She said she woke up in the middle of the night and this phrase was going through her head, and it was still doing it when she got up this morning. She said it goes, ‘the killer is younger than you think but more ruthless than you can imagine.’ Does that make any sense to you, Sam?”

  “Younger than I think but more ruthless than I can imagine? I don’t have a clue; it could mean a dozen things, but I don’t know what. Younger than I think? Wait a minute. Those fake hairs in the hat were gray. Maybe it means the killer is posing as…” Sam’s face went pale, and he shook his head. “No, that can’t be. It wouldn’t make any sense…”


  It was at that moment that Sam’s phone rang, and he snatched it out in the hope that it was Kim calling, but it wasn’t. The number on the caller ID was a local one, though, and he answered it quickly.

  “Sam Prichard,” he said. “Yes, go ahead.” He listened for a moment, and then his eyes went wide. When they got back to the main street where the motel was, he turned right instead of left, actually running a red light. He stayed on the phone for more than five minutes, occasionally asking things like, “What? Are you sure?” The more he listened, the more a dark and dangerous expression came across his face. “Thank you very much,” he said. “I really appreciate it.” He ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket, then looked over at his wife while he continued driving east out of town.

  “I know who the killer is,” he said. “And I know why she took your mother.”

  17

  Indie stared at him, her eyes wide. “Sam? Tell me.”

  “The lady on the phone saw the ad I put in the paper,” he said, “and she was calling to tell me who used to wear that hat around here. It’s a woman we’ve actually met, someone I never would’ve suspected until now, but after what this lady just told me, it all starts to make sense.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Samuel,” Grace yelled, “tell us what’s going on!”

  “Remember Beauregard said he was worried about one of his descendants being in danger, a woman? Well, that was a woman named Betty, from Thompsonville. She just told me that the only person around here who ever wore a hat like that was Marcy Elimon, but it was back before she got married and divorced. Back then, when she was selling cosmetics, her name was Marcy Perkins. She was the daughter of a man named Bill Perkins, except that he had somehow or other changed his last name years ago. Get this: it was originally Parkinson.”

  Indie shook her head in confusion. “Wait, Bill Parkinson changed his name to Perkins? That’s my maiden name…”