by Nancy Bell
"No, she's not dead— not yet anyway. She's in bad shape, J.R."
"What about Stacie? I was tellin' 'um down at the café. I said I bet they had her tied up in a strait jacket by now. That girl's not right, Biggie."
"I agree." Biggie opened a bottle of hand lotion and poured a little in her palm. "Only she's not in the hospital"— she rubbed her hands together—"she's run away." Just then the doorbell rang. Biggie stood up. "That must be Red. Go get washed up as fast as you can. Supper's about ready."
Boy, can that ranger eat. I ate two big slabs of chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes, gravy, and two biscuits. But he ate three and then piled on another helping of potatoes and beans for good measure.
"My, oh my, I like to see a man with an appetite," Biggie said, passing around the biscuits. "But don't forget to save room for pie. We'll have that in the parlor with our coffee."
Biggie had roses in her cheeks, and I noticed she'd powdered her nose and put on a little pink lipstick.
For some reason I was already full of pie, so I sat and watched Booger and Bingo while the others had their dessert. Bingo was taking a nap in front of the gas logs. He wouldn't have been sleeping so good if he'd known Booger was stalking him. Booger walked into the room, sniffed Bingo's tail, and went and crouched under the coffee table shaking his behind. The cat sprang. Bingo yelped as Booger's claws sank into his ears; and before you could blink, he took off after Booger, who streaked out of the room with his ears back.
Biggie shook her head. "J.R., go put those two outside."
I caught both animals and shoved them out the back door. When I got back the ranger had opened a file and he and Biggie were looking at the papers in it. "So, Biggie, as you can see by the ballistics report, the bullet that killed Rex and the one that grazed Jeremy Polk came from the gun Stacie had, not Rex's gun."
"How?" I asked. "I mean that gun never left the study."
"That's right." Biggie looked at the papers. "Laura had it in her hand. We all saw."
"And they never left the room," I said. "We were all outside the study door."
"What about fingerprints?" Biggie asked.
"Just what you'd expect," Ranger Upchurch said. "Stacie's and Laura's only. Rex's gun had his prints along with Abner's. Abner says he cleaned the gun for Rex just last week."
Biggie took a sip of coffee. "Did your people dust the breaker switch for prints?"
"Naturally." The ranger took another sheet of paper from the pile. "They lifted only one good print, and it was Abner Putnam's. Of course that switch is just big enough for one finger at a time. When he turned it back on, he could have obliterated any prints that might have been on there before."
Biggie nodded. "So what do you think, Red?"
"I think it's too damn bad Mrs. Barnwell is out of commission. She has some explaining to do. In the meantime, I've got to question the girl, Stacie. She may be the only one who can give us any answers— ever."
"Is Laura gonna die?" I asked.
"Maybe," Biggie said. "She's in bad shape. The doctor says her brain is swelling. If they can't stop it, she will either die or be left with brain damage. That could happen even if they do stop the swelling." She looked at the ranger. "So how many bullets were fired from the gun Stacie had?"
"Three. We dug one slug from the bookcase in the study. One was lodged in Rex's body, and the third…"
"The one you found, Biggie," I said.
"Right. That had to be the bullet that grazed Jeremy Polk."
"What's next?" Biggie asked.
"I was hoping you had an idea." The ranger frowned.
"I'd like to go back out tomorrow and have another look," Biggie said. "Want to come along?"
"Can't." He drained his coffee cup and watched while Biggie refilled it from the china pot on the table. "I have to be in court in Center Point. I'd sure appreciate it if you would take another look— maybe ask a few more questions. Somebody might be sitting on information they don't even know is important. Oops, excuse me." He pulled his pager from his pocket and examined the little screen. "Mind if I use your phone, Biggie?"
Biggie nodded. "Use the one in the hall."
We waited quietly until he came back, Biggie examining the papers on the coffee table and me staring at the blue-and-orange flames darting up from the fake logs in the fireplace. When the ranger came back, he had his hat in his hand.
"I need to get out to the Barnwell ranch. Abner Putnam wants to organize a search party to find Stacie."
"Good idea," Biggie said, following him to the door.
20
As soon as breakfast was over the next morning, Biggie went into her room and closed the door. I went to the phone to call DeWayne Boggs, hoping that now would be a good time to ride bikes down to the bypass to look over the storm damage. Before I was finished dialing the number, Rosebud put his big hand on my shoulder.
"Don't be makin' no plans, boy," he said. "We got yard work to do."
"Rosebud! I was planning to go look over the tornado damage."
"You ain't got no business messin' around that stuff. We got our own damage right here at home." With that, he turned me around and marched me out the front door. Sure enough, although I hadn't noticed before, the yard was a jumble of limbs and twigs that had fallen during the storm.
"Here," Rosebud said, handing me a rake. "You rake while I use the chain saw on these here big limbs."
I was stuffing a plastic trash bag full of stuff I had raked together when I thought of something. "Rosebud, how would it be if I got DeWayne or somebody to take Monica to the dance?"
"Reckon you could," he said, not looking at me.
"What's wrong? I know what you're thinking. You don't like that idea, do you?"
"Since when can you read minds?"
"You know what I mean, Rosebud. I'm asking your advice here."
Rosebud stopped raking and grinned at me. "Okay, I was thinkin' about that time Monica knocked him down and sent him home cryin' to his momma. What makes you think DeWayne wants to go to no dance with her?"
"Oh, yeah. I forgot. That was the time DeWayne called her 'Cue Ball.' I guess I'll have to come up with another plan. It's a cinch nobody else is going to agree to take her. I only thought of DeWayne because he's so nerdy, he'll never get another girl to go out with him."
Rosebud picked up a bag and started around the side of the house. "Here comes Miss Biggie. You see what she wants while I tote this stuff out to the alley."
"Get cleaned up," Biggie said, panting a little from running. "We're going out to the ranch."
Later, on the drive out, she filled us in. "They haven't found Stacie yet," she said. "Abner has the neighbors out combing the woods."
"What if she isn't in the woods?" I asked. "What if she got on the highway and got a ride? She could be far, far away by now, Biggie."
"The Department of Public Safety has been notified. They've put out a statewide alert for her. Anyway, I want you and Rosebud to help the men while I take another look around the house."
As it turned out, the search party had already left, so I helped Biggie in the house while Rosebud and Josefina made coffee and sandwiches for the searchers. We started in the little study. Biggie went through the desk drawers, even though the sheriff's men had already searched. She took everything out of each drawer, looked it over, then replaced it. After she was through, she took all the books off the bookshelf and shook them before putting them back. I stood at the French door looking out at the rolling pastures. The horse that Laura had been riding was grazing with the others just as if he hadn't, only yesterday, almost killed a woman. I turned the handle and pushed at the door, but it was locked. I twisted the deadbolt knob and pushed again, but the door still wouldn't open. Then I noticed that the ground outside the door was planted with chrysanthemums, gold and bronze and purple all mixed together.
"Biggie, this is funny. This is a door, but somebody has planted flowers right in front of it and it won't open."
&nbs
p; "So? Maybe they just chose not to use that door."
"There's something else, Biggie. Looky here. These flowers are brand new. See how the dirt is all loose around them?"
Biggie squatted down so she could get a better look. "You're right. Let's go outside and check this out."
I followed her into the dining room where she pushed open the French doors and trotted down to the path toward the study. "My soul," she said. "These plants are new. Look, they still have the nursery tags on them." She dug around the base of one plant. "J.R., they're still in the plastic pots. Someone must have been in a real hurry to set them out."
I squatted back on my heels and looked at the locked door. "Biggie, I remember something— about the night of the murder."
Biggie stood up and brushed the dirt off her hands. "What's that?"
"Well, when I first looked into this room— you know, right after we got the door open— I noticed that the drapes were drawn shut."
"That's right, I remember," Biggie said. "So what?"
"They were blowing in, Biggie. Those windows, or doors— whatever they are— were open that night. Why do you suppose they're locked now? Somebody must have planted these flowers to make it look like they were never used."
"I think you're right. Good work, J.R." She turned and went back into the house through the dining room doors. I followed her back into the study, where she continued to look through the books.
I watched her. "Biggie," I said, "you must have an idea. You always do."
"Well, I don't this time." She put the last book back on its shelf. "I'm through in here. Hmm, what next? I know, let's investigate Laura's room."
I followed her as she marched down the hall and stopped in front of the door. "Did she say we could look in her room, Biggie?"
"Nope." Biggie was already rummaging through Laura's closet. "But I'm sure she would if she could talk. Help me get this box down, honey. There's a stool you can stand on."
I climbed up on the stool and took down a hatbox from the closet shelf. Biggie took it from me and placed it on the bed. I watched as she lifted the lid and began to take things out, stacks of letters held together with rubber bands and photos still in the developers' envelopes. In the bottom, we found paper clips, used pencils, ballpoint pens, rubber bands, outdated postage stamps, and other odds and ends. It looked like someone had emptied a desk drawer in there. I picked up a tiny plastic bracelet, the kind they put on patients in the hospital, only this one would have just about fit Booger's paw. The words, BABY JANE DOE, were printed on it.
I held it up. "What's this, Biggie?"
She took it and held it under the bedside lamp. "Looks like a hospital bracelet for a newborn. The ranger should have this." She slipped it in her pocket and opened an envelope full of snapshots. Parking herself on the edge of the bed, she flipped through them. "Nice," she said. "Rex and Laura on a ski vacation." She handed one to me. "He was nice looking, wasn't he?"
"I guess."
She looked at the pictures for a long time before selecting one of Rex alone. He was standing at the top of a mountain, surrounded by bright blue sky, and looking like he was just about to ski down. His face was tanned, and he was laughing. "The ranger doesn't need this," Biggie said, slipping that photo into her pocket with the baby bracelet. She started putting things back into the box. "Put this on the shelf and then we'll see if the searchers have come back."
We found Josefina and Rosebud in the kitchen. Trays of sandwiches lay on the scrubbed pine table. Rosebud was opening bags of chips, while Josefina stirred a pot of soup on the stove.
"How can I help?" Biggie asked.
Josefina put her to work setting out napkins, glasses, and soup bowls. I slipped out the back door and headed for the barn. The girls were sitting around the picnic tables under the trees chattering to each other and drinking sodas. I figured Grace must be at the hospital with Laura. Otherwise, those girls would have been working out— or just working. I waved and pushed open the corral gate. Misty stood in the barn lot grooming one of the horses.
"You like horses better than people, don't you?" I asked, just to make conversation.
She looked at me seriously. "Horses are better than people."
"Really? You think so?"
She put down the brush she had been using and started toward the barn. "Let's have a cold drink."
When we were seated in the tack room with our drinks, she said, "I never had much chance to make friends with other kids. Daddy and I, we've moved around a lot. I've met a lot of snooty kids, but a horse is, you know, just the same to everybody. They don't tell lies or suck up to you just because you've got money or nice clothes and stuff." She looked down at her canned drink.
Personally, I think horses are just dumb, but I wasn't going to tell her that. "Are you going to the dance with me?"
"We'll see," she said. "Hey, J.R., I've got an idea. How would you like to go out and find Stacie?"
"Huh?"
"I think I know where she might be hiding. See, there's this cave out there. I found it once when I was riding alone, tracked a possum in there. The opening is hidden by a bunch of grapevines. Those guys will never find it."
"How come you think Stacie knows about it?"
"Because, the day I found it, I came back and told Abner. He said it was an old Indian cave. Stacie was being punished for not making up her bed exactly right and Grace was making her muck out all the stalls. I'm pretty sure she heard us talking."
"And you didn't tell the searchers that?"
"I forgot, J.R. I just this minute thought about it."
I looked up at the house. "How far is it?"
"Not far. Come on, let's saddle the horses."
"I should go and tell Biggie…"
She looked at me. "You have to tell her everything you do?"
"No!" I said. "No, I don't. Let's go."
We took the same route we'd taken the first time, only now we crossed the clearing and entered the woods on the opposite side. These woods were dense. The trees, mostly gum, oak, and dogwood, dripped grapevine and smilax that swagged from their branches like garlands on a Christmas tree. I called out for Misty to wait.
"If I lose you, I'll never find my way out of here."
"That's okay," she said. "We're here." She jumped off her horse and tied the reins to a low-hanging branch, leaving enough slack for the horse to graze in the soft green grass. I did the same and followed her toward what looked to me like a solid wall of green. She squeezed past the vines with me following close behind.
Inside it was dark and smelled like mud. I heard water running somewhere. Behind us, a curtain of green branches provided the only light in the place.
"Did you bring a light?" I asked.
"Didn't think about it." She took my arm. "It's scary, isn't it? Will you protect me if a bear comes out?"
I thought about Monica. She would never have said a thing like that. In fact, there have been times when she's had to protect me. Still, it felt good to be asked. "Sure," I said, hoping my voice sounded braver than I felt. "What shall we do now?"
"I don't know. What do you think?"
"Let's call her: Stacie! STACIE! Are you in here?" I put my two fingers in my mouth and whistled the way Rosebud had taught me.
Then we waited.
"Stacie!" Misty called. But it wasn't very loud.
"Shh," I said. "I think I hear something." It was a low moan. I sure hoped it wasn't a bear— or, more likely, a cougar. "Stacie?" I called again.
"Here." The voice came from the back of the cave. We both hurried toward the sound, sliding a little on the slippery cave floor.
"Where are you, Stacie?" I asked. "Say something."
"Over here." Her voice was barely audible.
I walked bent over with my hands stretched out in front of me. Finally they touched something soft and damp. "Is that you?" I whispered.
"Ouch. Yeah, it's me. Go away and let me die."
"How come you want to die?" I asked. "
We went to a lot of trouble to find you. And a lot of other people are looking for you, too. What's the matter with you?" I was getting irritated.
"Come on, Stace," Misty said. "You don't really want to die out here, do you?"
"She's dead," she said with a sob. "I don't want to live without her."
"That sounds pretty dramatic," I said. "Now come on, let's get you out of here."
"No!" she kicked her feet toward us.
"Stacie," Misty said, "did you think Laura was killed in the accident? Is that why you ran away? She's not dead. She's in the hospital in Job's Crossing and probably worried sick about you. Now get up and come on out of here."
"Not dead? Uh-uh. You're just telling me that. I saw her, and she was dead." But there was a little glimmer of hope in her voice. "Really? She's not dead?"
"Not only is she not dead," I said, "but you're a hero for saving her life. Now, get up from there and come on!"
Stacie was filthy and sore from spending the night in that damp cave, but somehow we managed to get her on top of my horse. I rode home behind Misty with my arms around her waist.
21
When we got back to the house, we found the others sitting around the big dining room table eating. Grace, who had just returned home from the hospital, was giving a report on Laura's condition. Her face looked splotchy, like she had been crying, but now she spoke in a strong voice.