“Don’t come out until I tell you to,” she called to Erika.
The car was definitely slowing, but Clare was taking no chances. She moved closer to the drop-off and prayed she wouldn’t have to go over the side again. The car crept closer and once more Clare waved. As a pickup truck rolled to a stop, Erika scurried over to stand beside Clare. The passenger-side window rolled down.
Clare leaned over until she could see the young girl driving the car. Afraid of frightening her, she didn’t approach the car, only shouted. “My car’s broken down and my friend and I need a ride. Can you help us?”
“Sure. No problem.” She put the car in park and turned the lights on inside the car. “Hop in.”
Clare opened the front door and boosted Erika into the front seat, then climbed in. Erika grabbed the edge of her pant leg as she slid onto the seat and closed the door.
“Is that blood?” the driver asked in concern. “Did you have an accident?”
“No. I tripped and fell down.” Clare was unprepared to give any more of an explanation. “I’m Clare by the way and this is Erika.”
“I’m Sheila Grange. Are you going to Grand Rapids?”
“Yes. The house is along this road, just before you get into town.”
“Super. It’s right on my way. I was in Coleraine bowling with some friends. I was later getting away than usual, so I’m grateful for the company. There’s not much traffic on this road at night. You’re lucky I decided to take the back way home.”
“I can’t tell you how glad we were to see you.”
“There’s construction as you come out of Coleraine, so most of the people are sticking to the main route.”
“Ah,” Clare said, not trusting her voice.
She was so relieved that they were safe that she felt close to tears. Erika was silent, her small body pressed against Clare as if she was afraid to lose contact. It took only fifteen minutes to get to Nate’s house. After thanking the woman profusely, Clare and Erika hurried inside.
The answering machine was blinking. The first message was from Nate, saying he was running late and wouldn’t be home until after ten.
“Thank heavens, we’ll have some time to get cleaned up,” Clare said, “although I don’t know what I can do to salvage these pants.”
The second message was from Ruth, letting Clare know that someone had found her cell phone. She asked Clare to call when she got the message even if it was late. Sending Erika upstairs to change, she dialed Heart’s Content.
“I was so worried that you might need the phone,” Ruth said.
Notup to a full explanation, Clare asked, “Where did you find it?”
“I didn’t. One of the instructors from Erika’s rehearsal found it. When she discovered the phone was registered in Chicago, she remembered talking to you. Someone told her you were my renter and she called me.”
“It must have fallen out of my purse,” Clare said.
“She said it was on the floor and one of the girls brought it up to her. She dropped it off on her way home and I put it down in the cottage.”
“Thanks I appreciate it. I’m sorry for being so careless.” Clare sighed. “I don’t know when I’ll be back so don’t worry about me. Nate’s going to be later than he thought so I’ll be here with Erika until he gets home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Before you ring off I have some information for you. I called my friend at the cemetery office and she looked up the records. An anonymous donor paid your father’s burial arrangements. Your father paid for all the arrangements for your mother. He bought the plot in Itasca Cemetery. He asked specifically if she could be buried near the influenza babies so that she wouldn’t miss her own child.”
Tears filled Clare’s eyes at the words. What an extraordinarily lovely gesture.
“Are you still there, Clare?” Ruth asked
Clare swallowed several times before she could speak. “Yes, I’m here. Was there anything else?”
“Yes. My friend didn’t know anything about the maintenance on the graves but she checked with the groundskeeper. He said thathe’d never seen anyone doing it, but ever since Lily’s death someone had been taking care of the grave site.”
“For twenty-five years?”
“Yes and whoever it is puts flowers in the vase at the grave site.”
“That’s really interesting. Thanks, Ruth, for following up on that. I better run. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She hated to be abrupt, but she was afraid Ruth would ask her howher time with Erika had gone. She didn’t want to talk about the evening until she’d had time to analyze all that had happened. After hanging up, Clare used the downstairs bathroom. She washed her hands, wincing as the soap burned the abrasions on her hands. Once she’d washed off the dirt, she could see that none of the cuts on her arms were deep. Her knee was badly scraped. She picked out several small pieces of gravel, then covered it with a wet washcloth until the stinging eased.
After one look at her feet, she decided to wait until she got back to the cottage before she dealt with them. They were covered with little cuts and blisters and generally felt bruised. Since none of the cuts looked deep and most of them weren’t actively bleeding, she decided she’d leave them alone until she could soak them.
“I brought some stuff for your cuts,” Erika called as Clare returned to the kitchen. “I’m sorry but there’s a rip in your jacket.”
Erika held out the corduroy jacket pointing to a gash on the sleeve. Clare transferred her wallet and her car keys to the jacket, setting it on a chair by the door to the garage.
“Let me check your knee,” she said, looking over the supplies Erika had brought down.
The girl had changed to a sweat suit and had washed her face and combed her hair. She rolled up her pants and Clare inspected her knee. Setting Erika on one of the kitchen stools, Clare washed the scrapes again.
“Sorry, I know this stings,” she said as the girl sucked in her breath. “I’m going to put some antiseptic cream on it. It should feel better in a minute.”
Sheslathered on the cream then covered it with a gauze bandage.
“Rollup your sleeves and let me make sure you don’t have any other cuts or gouges. Where did that sleeve get torn?”
She found another long scratch on Erika’s arm and covered that with the cream.
“I don’t think you need a bandage, but have your dad look at it tomorrow.”
Clare rubbed some of the cream on the palms of her hands. After the initial sting, the lubrication felt soothing.
“You should put some of that goo on your knee too,” Erika said. “Here you sit here and I can do it.”
Clare changed seats and pulled up her pant leg so that the girl could see her knee.
“Oh ick, Clare. That looks awful. Does it hurt a lot?”
“It’s sort of numb now. I don’t think it’s very deep. It just looks messy.”
Her face puckered in concentration, Erika rubbed cream on the gashes.
“Where did you get that?” she said, pointing to a jagged scar on Clare’s knee.
“I don’t know. I’ve had it ever since I was a little girl. I dreamt once that I cut my knee when I fell down in the woods during a thunderstorm. I don’t know if it really happened or if it was a nightmare.”
After putting away the first aid supplies, Clare made omelets and they sat on the stools in the kitchen to eat them. It was close to ten when they finished cleaning up. Leaving just the light over the stove on, they went into the family room and turned on the television. Erika pulled the ottoman over to the couch so Clare could put up her feet.
“Thank you for taking such good care of me,” she said as the girl came to sit next to her. “Put that pillow on my lap and you can curl up.”
Clare had noticed the child was dragging by the end of dinner and suspected that reaction to the night’s adventures was setting in. Once Erika was snuggled up on the couch, Clare put an afghan over her. She stroked her head and
soon the steady breathing indicated she’d fallen asleep. Clare lay her own head against the back of the couch and dozed as she watched the news.
She came awake when she heard the electric garage door opener. Moving cautiously, she eased out from under the pillow on her lap but Erika didn’t wake up. She stood up, grimacing as she put weight on her bruised feet. Walking gingerly, she went out to thekitchen and was standing behind the counter when Nate came in from the garage.
“Clare,” he said, looking surprised. “I saw the lights were on but didn’t think you were here because your car’s not outside.”
“It’s not here. I had car trouble and Erika and I got a ride to the house.”
“What kind of trouble?” Nate said, reaching for the overhead light. When the lights came on, he looked shocked. “Judas Priest. Were you in an accident? Is Erika all right?”
Before Clare could answer, he was across the room, gripping her shoulders.
“Erika is fine. She’s asleep on the couch,” Clare said.
“Thank God,” he said. “But how did you get hurt?”
Clare had been so caught up in the ominous questions in her own mind that the fact that Nate was holding her, his face tight with concern, tore down the wall of control she’d built up. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks and she pressed one hand against her mouth to keep from sobbing. He pulled her against his body and wrapped his arms around her.
“I need to know what’s happened, Clare.”
His voice was soft and he lay his head on top of hers, rocking her in place. Relief at his presence helped her gain back control of her emotions. She sniffed and pulled away.
“You must think I’m a chronic crybaby. That’s all I’ve done since I met you.”
“You do have an air of dampness around you.” Although he was trying for a light tone, his face was still lined with concern. Reaching in the pocket of his sports jacket, he pulled out a handkerchief. “I’ll buy you a dozen tomorrow.”
Clare blew her nose and smiled weakly. “Let’s go get Erika so that you can see she’s all right. Then we’ll talk about what happened.”
In the family room, Nate leaned over his daughter, smoothing the hair off her forehead.
“Erika, it’s me,” he said.
He had to shake her shoulder before she woke up. For a moment she smiled up at him, then caught sight of Clare and came more fully awake.
“Oh, Daddy, it was all my fault,” she wailed.
“It wasn’t your fault, honey,” Clare said. “I’ll explain it to your father. Let him help you up to your room.”
“Okay. Will you still be here in the morning?”
Nate’s eyes widened at Erika’s change of attitude toward Clare.
“You’ll definitely see her tomorrow,” he said, as he helped her to her feet. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
Downstairs, Clare spent the time running through a list of questions and possible answers that covered the week she’d been in Grand Rapids. Maybe talking to Nate would help clarify some of the confusion in her mind. One look at his grim expression as he returned didn’t necessarily reassure her.
“I think we both need a drink before we talk,” he said, jerking his head toward the kitchen.
He poured Clare a white wine and a Scotch for himself. He winced when he handed her the glass and spotted the reddened abrasions on the palms of her hands. He took a healthy sip as he eyed her over the rim of his glass. She stood quiet beneath his searching gaze as he appeared to catalogue every bump and bruise on her body.
“Erika said you were walking along the road after you left the car with the flat tires. She said she was almost hit by a drunk driver, but you saved her life.” The muscles in his jaw rippled as he appeared to struggle with his emotions. “She said that’s how you got hurt. Is any of that true?”
“First of all, I don’t think the driver was drunk.” Clare took a sip of her wine then set the glass on the counter as her hands began toshake. “And second, I don’t think it was an accident.”
“What do you mean it wasn’t an accident?”
“I think the driver of the car was deliberately trying to hit me.”
S
Chapter Eighteen
“Whoever was driving the car intended to hit me.” Clare repeated the words over in her mind, watching Nate’s face for his reaction. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
She shook her head. “The driver turned the wheel in our direction, then accelerated.”
Nate stood motionless, just staring at her. The expression on his face was a mixture of anger and fear. Thankfully, he didn’t look as if he thought she was crazy.
“I think you need to start from the beginning.”
When she shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropped to her feet, taking in the visible scrapes and bruises and the bandage he could see through the tear on her bloodied slacks. “Let’s get your feet up first.”
She grabbed her wine and limped back to the family room. She put her feet up on the ottoman and Nate leaned over to remove her shoes. He swore when he saw the state of her feet. He went back to the kitchen, returning with a basin of water and a soft cloth. Very gently he bathed her feet, stopping occasionally to examine a cut more thoroughly. Finished, he went in search of the same first aid supplies that she and Erika had used earlier.
“You’ll have to stay here tonight,” he said as he put the last Band-Aid onto a blister on her heel. “You need to stay off your feet for a while.”
Clare was too tired and sore to argue. She let him refill her glass and his own, then he pulled a chair up facing the couch. He sat down, put his feet up and took another long pull on his drink, then nodded at her.
“From the beginning, please,” he said.
Clare described what had happened from the time she picked up Erika until they arrived back at the house. He remained passive throughout the narrative, only occasionally interrupting to ask a question. When she described the car careening toward them, he put his hand comfortingly on her feet on the ottoman beside his chair. There was silence after she’d finished talking as if he were sorting through all he’d heard.
“You didn’t see anyone else while you were in the logging camp?”
“No. I suppose someone could have been in one of the buildings, but we didn’t see them. And anyone could have come into the parking lot or the administrative building while we were down by the river looking at the camp.”
“What are the chances that you would have had two flat tires in one night?”
“Not likely,” Clare said. “My Corolla is only two years old. I don’t put a lot of wear and tear on the car and I had it fully serviced before I came north.”
“Did you look to see if there was any damage to the tires?”
“No. Erika was getting close to panic. I just locked the car and we started walking. If I’d been smart, I would have tried to break a window to see if there was a phone in the office. Frankly, I was surprised there wasn’t some kind of security guard around.”
“We don’t have a lot of crime in Grand Rapids,” Nate said. “I doubt if there’s much to steal out at the Forest History Center. They probably have someone who comes around sometime during the night to make sure everything’s all right. When you came out to the highway, did you see any cars around?”
“It was nearly dark by then so, unless it had its headlights on, I doubt if I’d have seen a car.” Clare’s throat was dry and she took a sip of wine. “It occurred to me after it happened, that someone could have waited on the road until they saw us come out of the drive.”
“How would they know where you were?”
Nate was asking the questions she’d been trying to ask herself all night. “Erika didn’t ask me about the camp until we were out in the parking lot. I suppose someone could have overheard us or she could have talked about it during the rehearsal. I didn’t see anyone following us, however, I’m not sure I would have thought much about it if I had.”
“And you’re sure that
the person driving swerved toward you? Was it possible he was just pulling over?”
Nate’s eyes were steady on her face as she responded.
“No. I mean, yes. Yes, I’m sure he jerked the wheel toward me. We were walking up hill and there was a drop-off on our side of the road. Whoever it was would have seen that and pulled closer to the center line rather than risk running off the road.” Clare reached over and put her hand on his legs, reassuring herself of his presence. “And right after he turned the wheel, he sped up. The car practically leaped forward.”
They were both silent, caught up in their own thoughts. Clare rubbed his legs as he gently massaged her feet. She had never felt so connected to anyone in her life. Much as she thought she had loved Doug, it was nothing to what she was beginning to feel about Nate. Just talking to him about what she had been churning over in her mind all evening gave her a sense of security. All she knew was that she wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. She looked up and he was smiling across at her.
“You feel it too?” he asked.
“Yes.” She didn’t have to define her answer. They were very much in tune with each other.
“Iasked you the other day if something was bothering you. What was it?”
Clare told him about the note slipped under her door and the man she saw outside the cottage the night of the storm. She told him about finding the flowers on the grave and what Ruth had discovered from the cemetery office. If they included someone searching the cottage while Clare was out, the list of strange events was getting longer. Taken together and culminating in the loss of her phone and the car attack, it looked as if she was definitely in danger.
“Going back to tonight,” Nate said, “could someone have taken the phone out of your purse?”
“I thought about that. It’s entirely possible. I set my purse on thefloor when I got to the rehearsal. Afterward, I went up to talk to the instructors and I didn’t take my purse with me. So there was about a half hour when anyone could have taken it. “ Clare shifted to a more comfortable position. “But why would they take it?”
Conspiracy of Silence Page 23