Conspiracy of Silence

by Martha Powers

  Nate put on a kettle of water for tea and when it was ready, put bread in the toaster and scrambled some eggs. Under his steady gaze, Clare ate everything with gusto.

  “I hoped that after your solitary night, with no lusty exercise, you’d be picking at your food.”

  “I have a healthy appetite.”

  “For everything, I hope,” he said. “We have the house to ourselves until at least five.”

  “What about your plans to talk to the chief?” she said, raising an eyebrow as he leered across the counter.

  “Reality rears its ugly head. You’re right. Business first.” Nate sighed. “I called the Forest History Center and told them we’d send a truck out to get the car. I found your car keys in your jacket and, after I picked up your clothes this morning, I dropped the keys off at my garage. They’ll pick up the car and let me know what they find.”

  “I’m exhausted just listening to you. Thanks for doing all this.”

  “Just part of my plan to make myself indispensable to you.” He leaned over and kissed her on the nose. “By the way, I had a long talk with Erika. I asked her all about the rehearsal yesterday and how she’d gotten the idea to stop at the logging camp. She said a couple of girls were talking about it and someone suggested you’d like to see it.”

  “I figured it was something like that.”

  “I don’t know. She was holding something back, but I don’t know what it was. I think it’s because she’s feeling guilty that she took you there. She thinks it’s her fault that you got hurt.”

  “Remind her that I agreed to go because I thought it would be fun. And it was.”

  “I’ll tell her. Something else is on her mind. She’ll eventually tell me. By the way, she was the one who told everyone that you were investigating the murder.”

  “I don’t suppose that really matters,” Clare said.

  “She said she told her friends because she thought it was cool.” Nate shook his head. “I didn’t push it because she’s still upset about last night.”

  “I feel terrible about last night. She was in danger because of me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

  “We’re going to get to the bottom of this, Clare. And in the meantime I’m going to keep an eye on you.”

  They cleaned up the kitchen and then wandered out to the patio. It was hot but there was a steady breeze off the lake.

  “Now that you’ve had a chance to think about last night, do you still think that car was trying to hit you?”

  “Yes,” Clare said without hesitation. “I’m not paranoid, Nate. The driver turned the wheel directly toward me.”

  “I’m not doubting you. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t just a combination of events that made you jumpy.” Nate sat down on the stone wall and faced Clare. “The one thing I wondered was the purpose behind the attack. Was it intended to be lethal or was it intended to frighten you?”

  “All I know is that if Erika and I hadn’t gotten out of the way, the car would have hit us. That would have been more than a scare.” Her tone was defensive and she took a deep breath before she continued. “I know what you’re saying, Nate, and I don’t know the answer.”

  “If it was meant to scare you, the driver might have lost control of the car and then it would have been lethal.” Nate shook his head. “What I’m trying to figure out is how high the threat level is to you. I don’t feel you’re safe. The break in, the note under the door, the man outside during the storm. I feel you’re in danger even if someone just wants to frighten you away.”

  “To what purpose?” Clare asked, pacing across the flagstones.

  “At one point we talked about the possibility that Jimmy might not have been your father. If that’s true there might be someone in town who is threatened by either exposure or some sort of financial blackmail.”

  “I don’t follow that.”

  “Suppose it’s Big Red. When he died he left a sizable fortune to Ed Wiklander. Ed adored his father and he wouldn’t want any scandal attached to his name. When his father died, he inherited the estate. Maybe he’s afraid you’d have some inheritance rights.”

  “Even if that was true, I’d never contest the will, for God’s sake.” Clare felt hurt that Nate would even bring it up.

  “Steady, Clare. I’m on your side. The thing is when money is involved, people do strange things. Ed doesn’t know anything about you, so he might think you’d want a piece of the pie. Bruce Young is in the same situation. He said he dated Lily. He’s the right age and he’s got plenty of money.”

  “I could be Cindy’s older sister?” Clare laughed.

  Nate laughed too but his face was serious. “It sounds funny but you can see why either of those men might want you to stop digging in the past and get out of town.”

  “What about Pastor Olli?” Clare said. “It’s about as likely to be him. He was at the dance the night of the murder too.”

  “I suspect Bianca would have something to say about that. She keeps a pretty close eye on him.”

  The telephone rang and Nate hurried inside to answer it. Clare stared out over the lake trying to get back to the feeling of well-being she’d had when she woke up. How could there be talk ofmurder in such a beautiful setting? She turned when she heard Nate’s footsteps behind her.

  “That was Anderson’s Garage. Your car will be ready in another hour. Jeanne said that Andy had to put on two new tires.”

  “Couldn’t they repair the old ones?”

  “No. The tires had been slashed.”

  S

  Chapter Twenty

  “The tires were slashed. There was no way to patch them.” Nate spoke harshly. Clare felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She sat down on the stone wall, afraid that her legs wouldn’t hold her.

  “Having it confirmed makes it worse,” she said.

  “It still doesn’t prove anything. It could be two separate incidents.”

  “I know you’re trying to keep me from freaking out, but I don’t see how it could be two incidents.”

  “What if someone wanted to get you to go back to Chicago? They might slash your tires just to force you to walk back to town. It might scare you enough that you’d give it up and go home.” Nate grimaced. “I know this sounds pretty thin, but it’s possible.”

  “What about the car?”

  “It could very well have been a drunk driver. Maybe he saw you on the side of the road and intended to stop for you but lost control of the car.”

  “Do you not believe me or do you just not want to believe me?”

  Nate crossed to her and pulled her up and into his embrace. “I believe everything you’ve told me, but I’m hoping that your perception of the details is wrong. The thought that someone in Grand Rapids is trying to kill you is something that I find almost impossible to accept.”

  Clare lay her forehead against his chest. “I know what you mean. Murder isn’t something that’s within the realm of my understanding either.”

  “While I was inside, I called Chief Fogt and asked if we could drop by to see him. He said to come now because he’s got a meeting after lunch.”

  “Maybe he can look at all this objectively and come up with some theory that we haven’t thought of.”

  Nate squeezed Clare’s shoulders and then released her. “I think the only thing we haven’t thought of is: famine and pestilence.”

  Clare pulled into the parking space above the cottage and waited for Nate who had followed her from the garage. She transferred Erika’s clogging costume and shoebag to the back seat of Nate’s car.

  “Tell Erika to hang her costume up and the wrinkles should come out of the skirt,” Clare said.

  “You may not believe it to look at me, but, for an author, I’m a wizard with a steam iron.”

  “I’m very impressed. No wonder you always look so well turned out,” she said, eyeing his rumpled khaki shorts and shortsleeved, button-down shirt. “A trendy contrast in fashion.”

  “I�
��ll have you know I have my own special iron. A Rowenta Advancer. Considered by aficionados to be the Cadillac of steam irons.”

  “You’re kidding,” Clare said.

  “A man never mocks his iron.” Although he tried to keep a straight face, Clare’s giggle dissolved his control and he laughed outloud. “Next time you’re at the house, I’ll show it to you.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Clare said, then pointed to the cardboard box in the back seat. “Do you want to look at the files now?”

  Nate looked at his watch. “It’s two o’clock. I want to get back to the house around four in case Erika comes home early. I don’t think that gives us enough time. I’ll look through it tonight and see if there’s anything new and different in it.”

  “I forgot to ask why you brought this box. There was a whole shelfful of boxes that held files on the murder investigation.”

  “This was the box that had my father’s personal files on the case. After he died, I took it over to the station and added it to what they already had. I don’t think they would have let me take anyof the other files, but this one technically belonged to me.”

  “I liked Chief Fogt. He listened to all my conspiracy theories and didn’t seem to think I was crazy.”

  “He’s a good guy. We don’t have a lot of crime in Grand Rapids, so when something comes up, he’ll give it his full attention. He’s going to check the Forest History Center to see if they have any security cameras. If they do we might get some idea of what happened to your tires.”

  “He said it was a long shot but at least he’s willing to look into it. I do feel better after he went over the reports about Margee’s death. I’ve been so worried that somehow I caused her death.”

  “I know you mentioned that,” Nate said, “but it appears to have had nothing to do with you. Someone saw her go into the storage room carrying some empty cardboard boxes. She might not have seen the step and that’s what caused the fall.”

  “By the way, thanks for the lunch. Erika and I were just talking about pasties.”

  “You didn’t say whether you liked them or not. I noticed you skipped the ones with rutabaga.”

  “A useless vegetable at best. The pasties were good but I think it was too hot today to really enjoy them. I can imagine on a cold day you could eat a half dozen.”

  “Howdo you think we tolerate the winter up here?”

  “Do you have time for a cold drink?”

  “That I do. Don’t tell me you have beer.” Nate closed the car door and followed Clare to the path. “Looks like you’ve already got company.”

  Waldo was sprawled on the front porch. He let out a soft woofing sound at their approach. His bushy tail swished across the floorboards by way of greeting, but he didn’t get up.

  “What a patient friend you are,” Clare said. “Have you been waiting for me to come home?”

  She leaned over to pet the dog. His fur was soft to the touch. She sniffed the air, grateful for the normal doggy smell.

  “What? No fish today?” She rubbed his head but when she touchedhis ear, he jerked away and let out a sharp yelp. “What’s up, old boy? Nate, something’s wrong.”

  Kneeling down beside the dog, she gently lifted his ear. There was a bloody bruise on the side of his head just below his ear. Although his sides heaved as he panted, Waldo remained quiet while they examined his wound.

  “That looks nasty,” Nate said. “I don’t have Jake’s phone number so it’ll be just as fast to take him over there. I think Waldo needs to see the vet, but we’ll let him decide.”

  “Let me get some towels.”

  Clare unlocked the front door and hurried inside. She grabbed some bath towels from the linen closet and returned to the dog’s side.

  “Come on, Waldo. Let’s go get Jake.”

  The dog struggled to roll over on his stomach and it was only then they realized that his leg was injured. His left front paw shook as he tried to keep it from pressing on the floor.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Nate spoke softly as he ran his hands over the rest of the dog’s body. “It looks like just his front leg. I don’t know if it’s broken so I better carry him.”

  “Give me your keys,” she said. “I’ll open the back of the SUV andthen come back to help. Just keep him quiet.”

  Nate dug out his keys and handed them to Clare. She ran up theflagstone path and got in the driver’s seat. Starting the car, she turned the SUV around so that the back was at the top of the path. She unlocked the back door, grateful that the RAV4 door opened to the side rather than laying down flat. She spread the bath towels on the carpet in the back then hurried back down the path.

  “It’s going to be okay, Waldo,” she said, stroking the top of thepanting dog’s head. Nate squatted beside the dog preparing to lift him. “Don’t pick him up yet. Let me get one more thing.”

  She ran into the house checking the linen closet and finally pulled her pashmina scarf from the dresser in her room. Back outside she knelt down beside Waldo. “I’m going to wrap the scarf around his muzzle. I don’t think he’ll bite but if he’s in pain it might just be an automatic reaction.”

  Careful not to knock against his sore paw, she wrapped the scarf around his jaws, keeping it away from the cut on his head. She kept up a steady patter of soft shushing noises as she tied the soft material in a loose knot.

  “Easy, Waldo,” Nate said as he put his arms around the dog’s middle.

  With a mighty effort he raised the dog until he was standing on his back legs. Although Waldo’s panting increased, he made no aggressive moves, only emitted soft cries. Keeping the injured leg to the front, Nate shifted his grip and lifted the dog off the ground. Leaning back, he bent his legs, bracing to support the dog’s deadweight. With the dog in his arms, he started slowly up the path.

  Clare raced ahead smoothing the towels in the back of the SUV, just as Nate got to the top. She could see his arms quiver with the strain of setting the dog down slowly, turning his body so the injured leg didn’t touch the floor.

  “Good dog. Good boy,” Nate gasped, panting in his turn. “Next time you decide to rescue a dog, Clare, make sure it’s a cockapoo instead of a woolly mammoth?”

  “I’ll definitely keep that in mind. “ she said. “Do you want me tosit back here?”

  “No. I think he’ll be all right. It’s just a short ride.”

  Ittook only ten minutes to get to Jake’s house. Nate drove slowly up a rutted drive to a secluded cabin on the edge of the lake. Jake must have heard them coming, because the door opened and he came down the stairs to the drive. His face was less than welcoming as the car came to a stop. Nate ran down the window on Clare’s side and leaned over.

  “We’ve got Waldo in the back, Jake. He’s been hurt.”

  Without comment, Jake moved to the back of the car and jerked open the door. Nate put the car in park and got out. Clare stayed in her seat, watching the two men in the rear doorway.

  “It’s the side of his head and his left paw,” Nate said.

  “Steady there, Waldo,” Jake said as he leaned over the dog. “It’s just me.”

  Clare could hear the slow thump of the dog’s tail.

  “Any idea what happened?”

  “No. Clare and I found him on her front porch after lunch today. He was just laying there. If you want to climb in back, we’ll make a run over to the vet.”

  “Thanks, Nate. Much appreciated.”

  With another soft pat, Jake closed the back door and came around to get in the backseat. All the way to the vet, he hung over the seat, one hand firmly anchored in the dog’s fur.

  “You go with Jake,” Clare said to Nate when they arrived. “I’ll take care of the car.”

  She waited as the two men carried Waldo inside, then parked the SUV and walked into the empty waiting room. Sitting down, she picked up a magazine, but just sat with it in her lap. It wasn’t long before Nate joined her. He handed her the neatly folded pashmina wrap.

&n
bsp; “There’s a little blood on the scarf. Jake said he’d have it cleaned, but I figured you’d know what to do with it. He said thanks for sacrificing it for the dog.”

  “How’s Waldo doing?”

  “The wound on the side of his head needed some stitches, so Dr. Watson had to give him an anesthetic. They’re currently checking out his paw.”

  “Poor Waldo.” Tears came to her eyes and she blinked them back. “A week ago I didn’t even know the dog and now it’s breaking my heart to think he’s in pain.”

  Nate put his arm around her. She rested her head on his shoulder and stared at the clock on the wall as the second hand clicked it’s way around the circular face. It was forty-five minutes before Jake returned.

  His face was drawn and his white hair stood on end as if he’d been running his hands through it. He walked slowly, his shoulders slumped over his tall, gaunt body.

  “They’re going to hold Waldo overnight,” Jake said. “Margaret wants to keep an eye on him until the anesthetic wears off. Luckily there are no broken bones. Just a bad bruise. She gave him apainkiller, but she wants to make sure he rests his foot tonight and tomorrow morning at least. A couple days and he’ll be walking okay. He might have a bit of a limp but that’ll ease up by next week.”

  “That’s great news,” Nate said. He stood up and put his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “He’s a tough old boy.”

  “Does it look like he was hit by a car?” Clare asked.

  Jake turned to her and the muscles of his jaw rippled. “Not a car. Someone beat him with a tree branch.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Clare said, grabbing Nate’s arm in her distress. “Someone deliberately hurt Waldo?”

  “ ’Fraid so. The doc found pieces of bark embedded in the wound on his face. She thinks he was hit a second time to try to break the leg.”

  Despite Jake’s tan, the skin on his face appeared pale. His whole body slumped and he looked all of his seventy plus years.

  “I need a drink,” Nate said.

  He pulled Clare to her feet and led the way out to the SUV. No one spoke until they arrived back at Jake’s place.

  Jake didn’t make a move to get out. His head was down and he seemed to hesitate before he spoke.