Harvey sat down, almost collapsing onto his favorite chair. “It’s been so many years ago now.”
“Why would someone call Jimmy?” Tony flipped through his meager papers. “He didn’t even move to Silersville until, what? Maybe five years ago, now. How long ago did your Louise vanish?”
“Maybe fifteen or sixteen years.” Harvey stared at the notebook in Tony’s hands. “Look in the old files for Barnet. The case went cold but was never closed.”
“A couple of years ago, I specifically asked and you told me all of your cold cases were solved.”
“Did I?” Harvey’s face hardened.
Tony wondered if the old sheriff was losing his memory or telling a lie. “Tell me what you remember.”
Harvey stood up and ambled over to his desk, where a mess of unfiled papers surrounded a computer. He reached into a drawer and pulled out an old notebook before he went into the kitchen, where he poured himself a couple of fingers of whiskey and added two ice cubes. Without asking, he brought Tony a glass of water. After returning to his chair, Harvey simply held the notebook as he sipped his drink for a couple of minutes. He finally met Tony’s eyes. “She vanished on Valentine’s Day.”
“So, the anniversary of the event is in a few days. At least there’s some connection.”
Harvey nodded. “Do you know your Jimmy’s phone number?”
“Yes.” Tony opened the current file. There was little in it besides the information supplied by Jimmy when he’d made his report. The phone number was written in several places.
Harvey opened his worn notebook. “Just so you know, I photocopied every last word in this notebook and put it in her file.” Harvey read off Louise Barnet’s phone number. It matched Jimmy’s.
Tony felt a chill. “If that was her phone number, and she’s dead, does the caller not know that?”
“We never found any evidence or a witness to tell us if she ran away or was taken. There was no ransom request, and she didn’t take much but her car and some clothes. The car was just an ordinary dark green Chevy. And we think she wasn’t alone. Another girl disappeared at the same time, Aurilla Dawes. The two girls just vanished into thin air like they’d been taken away by one of Orvan’s flying saucer guys.” Harvey stared at the notebook. “If someone did take her, who and why? If not, why didn’t she ever call home? Are they hoping to reconnect? Is she living or dead?”
“It all comes back to what happened and where is either the living woman, or her remains.” Tony could feel himself being pulled into the case. “How old would she be?”
“Thirty-three or thirty-four.” Harvey shook his head. “Her folks paid for some private investigator when we couldn’t learn anything. I guess they finally gave up. They moved away maybe ten years ago.”
Theo worked her way through her quilt shop, occasionally pulling a bolt of fabric from its rack to move it to the sale bin. The bolts were arranged by color. Walking through the rainbow, it never ceased to surprise her how some fabrics practically flew off the shelves, all purchased within days of their arrival. Others sold more gradually but were still popular. A few sat unnoticed like wallflowers at a dance.
To get those fabrics out of the shop, the wallflowers were discounted enough to find homes. A good wallflower was often purchased in multi-yard cuts to be used to make the backs of quilts. Every quilt needed a front, batting for the center layer, and a back. The three layers were either stitched together by hand or machine—the actual quilting process. Theo noticed a small white paper heart flutter to the floor when she removed one of the less popular reds. She picked it up. Red ink proclaimed, “Don’t miss the Valentine’s Day party at the museum.”
Theo waved the little paper heart at Gretchen standing behind the counter. “Is this yours?”
Gretchen glanced at it, shaking her head. She reached under the counter and retrieved a small stack of handmade paper hearts, large and small. Some were just white typing paper like the one Theo held. Some hearts were cut from red construction paper. A few were red paper hearts glued onto lace paper doilies. “I found all of these today.”
“Where did they come from?” Theo glanced from the one she held to Gretchen’s pile.
“I have no idea.” Gretchen grinned. “I found the first ones yesterday. It was a really busy day with quilters and seniors and visitors. Anyone could have scattered them around.”
“Was Jane in here?” Theo thought the hearts looked like something her mother-in-law might circulate to advertise the upcoming party and silent auction at the folk museum run by Jane and her younger sister, Martha.
“Not while I was here.” Gretchen was distracted by a quilter needing some fabric cut.
Curious but not concerned by the appearance of paper hearts, Theo continued her selection process.
“Old man Rutherford is loose.” Rex’s voice came through the radio. “Last spotted in the park. In his underwear.”
Tony groaned. The elderly gentleman was fond of roaming loose, and in spite of his dementia, he was sneaky. He might not remember his name, but he could watch someone punch in the number code for the locked door at the care home, and cleverly reproduce it. This might be the second time he’d vanished this week. His disappearances seemed to run in stages.
Tony had gone home for lunch. Since the Abernathy house was directly across the street from the park, there was no valid reason he could come up with to keep him from collecting the old man and delivering him back to his residence. Tony headed out the front door and stopped on his porch in surprise. In the ten minutes he’d been at home, a snow shower had blown in. Huge fluffy flakes were drifting from the sky. It didn’t look like real snow. It looked more like shredded foam rubber being dropped by a prankster.
The Silersville municipal park was fairly large for such a small community. The residents were lucky enough to have a pond, playground equipment, plenty of picnic tables and some ball fields. Separating the different sections were trees and shrubs. Tony didn’t see the old man anywhere but he could see footprints in the new snow. Bare feet. Tony hurried, following the tracks. They led into an overgrown flowering quince, a shrub his mom usually called a japonica. They were well known for long, sharp thorns. The old man stared blankly at Tony with tear-filled eyes. He wore nothing but his underwear and was impaled on several of the shrub’s vicious thorns. His thin skin was splotchy and turning blue.
“Mr. Rutherford.” Tony spoke softly and began removing his jacket. “Let’s get you out of there and into something warm.”
“Snow.” The old man looked pleased he had come up with the correct word. When Tony pulled away the branch holding him prisoner, he stepped out.
“Yes, sir. Now then, let’s get you out of the park.” He held the jacket open and the old man allowed him to wrap it about his skinny frame. Tony glanced down at the bare feet. “Shall we hurry?”
Thankfully, Mr. Rutherford had finished with his adventure and he hurried alongside Tony. When they reached the Blazer the old man’s face lit up with delight.
“Car ride?” said Mr. Rutherford as he ran a gnarled hand across the roof. The rack of lights on the top seemed to surprise him. “Mine?”
“Nope.” Tony smiled and opened the door. Rutherford had ridden in the Blazer countless times, he simply didn’t remember. Tony wouldn’t mention that to him. “This is my work vehicle. Climb on in. I’ll give you a ride in it.”
“Siren?” Rutherford grinned like a two-year-old. “Please?”
Tony obliged. For one block.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Sheriff?” Ruth Ann’s voice carried through the speaker on his desk. “Mr. Lundy has something he needs to tell you.”
“Okay, you know the drill.” Tony sighed. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased the old man was doing so well or aggravated that he was back to his confessions. A few months earlier the old man seemed to be on his last leg but now he looked as chipper as he ever had. Orvan Lundy was a spry eighty-something-year-old and as tough as a buffalo.
/> A few moments later, their regular small group gathered in the interrogation room known as the greenhouse. Orvan Lundy, the elderly star of this little melodrama, sat at the steel table with his gnarled fingers laced together. On one side of the little man sat Walter, Ruth Ann’s husband and Orvan’s community service contact. Wade carried in extra folding chairs for the audience and arranged them in a neat semicircle near the table.
“What can we do for you today, Orvan?” Tony thought he would get right to the point. “If you plan to confess, we need to get the prosecutor and your defense attorney in here as well.”
“Weeel now, let’s not be too hasty,” said Orvan. “We ain’t even said howdy to each other yet.”
Reminded of his manners, Tony sat down. Orvan’s confessions were as much social events for the old sinner as a meeting for coffee at Ruby’s Café might be for ordinary folks. Understanding the situation and the protocol, Tony relaxed in his seat, and took a sip from a bottle of water. Across the table, Orvan sipped from his own bottle.
Tony took a deep breath and sighed. “So, how have you been?”
“C’ain’t complain.” Orvan accidently squeezed his plastic bottle, shooting a fair stream of water from the bottle and onto the floor, mostly because his rheumy eyes were focused on Ruth Ann. “Me and Walter have been getting along jest fine.” The old man bobbed his head for emphasis.
Tony thought the movement, coupled with the contrast between his snowy sideburns and the ebony shoe polish enhancing the crown of his head, gave him the appearance of having a dancing skunk on his head. His overalls were neatly fastened and his threadbare plaid shirt had all of its buttons.
Tony preferred the neat appearance. Only a few months earlier, Orvan had been in bad shape and arrived to make his confession sloppily dressed. Not at all his style.
“We have indeed bonded.” Walter nodded. “It helps that we both love the same irresistible woman.” His broad smile displayed a lot of brilliant white teeth.
Ruth Ann, the irresistible woman in question, snorted indelicately. “You two deserve each other.”
“Well, I’m happy everyone’s having fun and getting along.” Tony’s patience was at an end. He ran a finger along the edge of his notebook. “Do you suppose we can get on with business now?”
All heads nodded but one. Orvan’s shoe-polished head remained still.
“So, Orvan, what’s new?” Tony was convinced the old man wasn’t planning a confession. He wasn’t wearing his guilty face and he hadn’t requested an attorney.
The wizened little man squirmed on his seat. “I saw one of them flyin’ saucer guys a-zoomin’ around. There was this here trail of fire behind it shining like stardust.”
Tony had to smile at the excitement on the old man’s face. In spite of the cataracts, his eyes sparkled. Orvan looked like a kid on Christmas morning, albeit an elderly one. “Where was this?”
“I was on my way to see Miz Swift and make a delivery. Oops, I mean to say, I was goin’ there to visit for a time.” Orvan clamped one hand over his mouth.
Tony felt his eyebrows rise. He wouldn’t have guessed that Mrs. Swift was one of the people who bought moonshine from Orvan. The old man’s still probably couldn’t produce much more than Orvan himself could drink. “Did you make a bigger batch than usual?”
Walter cleared his throat several times. He glanced at Tony and at Wade and then stared at Orvan.
Seeing Walter’s expression, Orvan clammed up.
Tony sighed. “Let’s go back to the subject of the flying saucer.” In his own disjointed way, Orvan was often a great source of what was going on in the community. It usually took a fair amount of translation to get from one of Orvan’s stories to the truth; in fact, he’d seen aliens before. “Where exactly did you see it?”
“The light come at me from nowhere.” Orvan sipped his remaining water, taking his time telling the story. “I was in town, over toward the park. And suddenly the saucer come straight at me. There was a real bright light on it and one of them Martians what was all hunched up inside was boxing with something.” Orvan’s rheumy blue eyes were as wide as they could open. He seemed as mesmerized by the memory as he had been by the event.
He stopped to have more water. The bottle was empty but he gulped anyway.
“Only one light?” Wade spoke into the silence. There was a sparkle of mischief in his dark blue eyes. Tony could tell his deputy knew more than the rest of them about the vision. Wade’s expression made Tony really want to know what Orvan had seen. He tried to be patient, though, and let the story unfold in good time.
Orvan tilted his head, staring at the smile on the handsome deputy’s face. Then Orvan cackled, “You seen it, too. Didn’t ya?”
Wade nodded.
Intrigued, Tony glanced from man to man. “All right, I give up. Someone want to let me in on the secret?”
Clearly making an effort not to laugh, Wade said, “Jack Gates has a three-wheeler racing bike that he rides and propels with hand pedals in the front, hence the boxing Orvan saw. The bike has a headlight, but I’ve seen Jack wearing a headlamp as well. He says he likes to ride late at night when there’s not much motor vehicle traffic on the streets.”
Tony knew Jack had a damaged spine. He was able to walk, after a fashion, but often used a wheelchair. “Now that we solved the mystery of the mysterious biker and the Martians, maybe we can get back to work.” He pushed his chair back and stood.
“Nossir, that’s not what I come to tell you.” Orvan’s lower lip stuck out.
Tony sat, fighting back an irritated sigh.
“I come to say I’ve been bad. I ought not to, but I been makin’ some hooch and keepin’ it buried in a jug.” Tears welled in his eyes and dripped onto the bib of his overalls. “Someone took it. Every last drop an’ the jug with it.”
Tony frowned. He couldn’t imagine anyone sneaking up to Orvan’s place and stealing a jug of moonshine. Orvan’s mountain home was not on the beaten path. Who would know where it was kept? Besides Walter?
Theo stared past Tony. “I think that man is dangerous.”
Tony turned enough to see who she was talking about. Jack Gates. Surprised to see the man Orvan had mistaken for a Martian only a short time after his semi-confession, Tony studied him. Jack was a youngish man, maybe thirty five, maybe a match for his own forty. As described, Jack sat in a racing-style wheelchair. It was long and low, with hand operated pedals on the same plane as his chest. “Dangerous how?”
Theo shrugged but the expression on her face was undecipherable.
Tony thought his wife was often better at reading people than he was. He repeated, “Dangerous how?”
“Lock up your daughters kind of dangerous.” Theo turned and smiled up at him. Her big green-gold hazel eyes sparkled behind the lenses of her glasses.
The laughter in her eyes made him realize she found the man attractive but had no real interest in him. Tony carefully studied what was going on in front of them. Sure enough, a small flock of women drew closer to the man on the bike. Moths to the proverbial flame.
Even in the fairly cold weather, Jack was dressed in a form-fitting, short-sleeved shirt exposing powerful arms and chest, bike shorts, and gloves. Beneath his helmet was a handsome, smiling face. His legs were surprisingly muscular in appearance.
“Do you know his aunt is Eunice Plover?” Tony doubted he was telling her anything she didn’t know. He knew Eunice was a regular visitor in Theo’s shop.
“Yes, they go to lots of places together.” Theo rubbed the side of her nose. “Eunice was talking just the other day about a cruise the two of them are planning to take. It sounds like quite an adventure. I think it lasts about three weeks.”
“Is it around the Caribbean?” Grateful for his jacket, Tony thought going somewhere with a little warmer weather had a certain appeal on this snowy day. Maybe it was because he’d had enough of a cold-weather adventure in the park with Mr. Rutherford.
“No. They’re headed for
South America. Eunice said something about going up the Amazon River but I’m not sure about that part.” Theo’s eyes sparkled. “I do know that there will be a group of quilters on it, because she showed me pictures of two projects they are going to be working on during days at sea.”
Her statement amused Tony because he had spent many weeks at sea in the Navy. There hadn’t been any quilting though. He bent down so his eyes were level with hers. “You’ve talked in the past about teaching on one of those ships. Are you planning to sign up for one?”
“Are you worried I’ll do it, or are you hoping I’ll do it?” Theo’s eyes sparkled. “You and the kids could eat at Ruby’s every night. Just think of eating all that good food for a change.”
Tony had to admit it was worry. He knew his wife enjoyed traveling and teaching, but he was not prepared to do his job and care for four children by himself except for short periods of time. Anything more than two days didn’t qualify.
“Maybe your mom and Martha would stay with the kids and you could come along with me. I’d let you carry my sewing machine.” Theo kissed his cheek while it was down at her level. “We could have a vacation.”
“Now that certainly sounds better than having you desert your family.” Tony was intrigued by the idea and started thinking about the possibility of taking some time off. Three weeks would be impossible, but maybe they could manage it for a week.
Theo waved at someone passing and Tony turned to look. A big man, part of the visiting star’s entourage, saluted Theo. She laughed.
Recognizing Bear, Tony raised an eyebrow. “How do you know the bodyguard?”
“He saved at least a window and maybe both the glass and me.” A frown crossed her face. “That nasty boy he works for started yelling at him for helping me.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Weems!” Tony shouted through the open doorway. “Bradley Weems!”
His voice startled Ruth Ann, sitting at her desk just past his door, and she swiveled to stare at him. “Sir?” When Bradley passed her desk and scuttled through the doorway, Ruth Ann turned back to her work.
Murder by Kindness Page 4