Murder at Spirit Falls

by Barbara Deese

  “What’s she saying?” Brill demanded.

  “Oh, Robin, oh God!” Cate covered her mouth.

  Harley turned to her.

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Cate said, “She’s going to be fine. She’s quoting from the Wizard of Oz!”

  29

  Up the road, Grace had pulled over for a fire truck, noticing for the first time the column of dark smoke beyond the trees to her left. Driving once more, she felt sick from the increasingly acrid smell, as, once again, she pulled over for an ambulance. Almost immediately, a second one screamed past. She had a terrible feeling she knew where they were headed. Oh, God, please let everyone be okay. Get there. Get there in time, she prayed. She coughed and her eyes began to water. Once she’d started down the long driveway, the air was scarcely breathable.

  Slamming on her brakes, she was able to stop short of the emergency vehicles. Two paramedics—a man, thirtyish, with close-cropped hair, and a younger woman who wore her hair in stubby pigtails—bent over a figure on the ground.

  Coughing and slipping in the sand, Grace rushed to where Cate stood, bedraggled, but thank God, upright, a few feet from Robin. Grabbing Cate’s arm with both hands, she could only say, “Is … is … is she?”

  Wet, bedraggled and covered with soot, Cate slumped into Grace’s arms, suddenly unable to bear the burden alone. She began sobbing. “She’s okay, Gracie. Robin’s okay.”

  Grover lay nearby licking his nearly hairless haunch. He rolled his eyes toward Cate, tried to stand, then, shaking, flopped to the ground with a moan. Cate knelt and ran her fingers the length of his body, checking for injury. Finding none, she buried her face in his wet fur and sobbed.

  Grace’s lips quivered. She looked back at Robin, frail and motionless. Beyond Robin was the crumbling blackened mess that used to be a glorious hunting lodge. Grace could not hold back her own tears. “Was she the only one in there?”

  What?” Cate turned her face to Grace’s. She coughed until her eyes streamed with tears.

  “You okay?”

  Cate nodded and spat in the grass.

  “Was there anyone else here?” Grace asked again.

  “What do you mean? I don’t think so. I was across the creek with George and Grover when I saw the fire.” Cate’s teeth chattered despite the suffocating heat.

  “Anyone else? What about—” Grace shut her eyes and swallowed. “What about Brenda? Did she show up here?”

  Cate’s eyebrows shot up. “Brenda?”

  Sheriff Harley materialized from the woods, talking on his cell phone. He approached them, snapped his phone shut and held out his hand to Grace. “I’m Sheriff Harley.”

  “Grace Samuels,” she said, ignoring his proffered hand and engulfing him in a hug.

  Harley held her away from him awkwardly. “Samuels? Husband Fred?”

  She nodded.

  “Called 911 on your way here?”

  She nodded again. “I’m a friend of Robin’s.”

  “You certainly are!” The sheriff smiled broadly.

  Behind her, Cate seized her by the shoulders. “You called for help? Gracie, you saved Robin’s life!”

  Harley nodded. “Yup. Between you and Mrs. Samuels … and Grover …” He took off his hat, scratched his head and watched the dog with unconcealed admiration. “That’s a mighty fine dog you got there.”

  Grover seemed to know he was being praised. He stopped licking to gaze up at Sheriff Harley. With great effort, he stood and tottered over to lick the man’s hand.

  The paramedics were still tending to Robin. The side of her head was covered with a white compress held in place by gauze, an oxygen mask covered her nose and mouth. They wheeled her to the ambulance and lifted her in. The female EMT climbed in next to her and pulled the doors shut.

  Cate grabbed the arm of the other paramedic and asked, “Is she going to be okay?” Grace loomed over her shoulder.

  “The head wound definitely needs attention. I’m sure they’ll admit her,” the man informed them. “It’s really not my place to say,” he said with a shake of his head, adding, “But damage from smoke inhalation doesn’t always show up right away.”

  Still huddled together they heard the siren’s wail over the fire, announcing the ambulance’s departure.

  Grace turned and gestured to the other ambulance, still parked and unattended. “Where are they? What are they waiting for?”

  Cate shrugged, her brows knit.

  “They’re with the other woman,” Sheriff Harley said.

  Grace’s mouth fell open.

  Harley escorted them around the fire trucks and through the wooded area, giving wide berth to the burning building, to the steps leading to the creek. He stopped, turned to them and said, “There was another woman who fell through the rail. Maybe you can tell us who she is. They’re bringing her up right now.” Together they watched from a discreet distance as the second EMT crew hauled on a rope that disappeared over the precipice. The other end was tied to a sturdy tree.

  Gradually, a contraption came into view, something that looked like a small plastic canoe, a garish green thing suspended from the rope. Strapped to it was a tiny figure of a woman, the side of her face distorted and covered in blood.

  Grace audibly sucked in her breath. Her fisted hand flew to her lips. Turning to the sheriff with tears in her eyes, she croaked, “It’s her. It’s Brenda Krause.”

  And then, to his bewilderment, she started babbling about a yarn store and a button and a sweater and a remote control. It would take some time to make sense of it all.

  Once Brill was done writing down everything Harley elicited from Cate and Grace and George Wellman, the two women followed Harley’s directions to the hospital.

  “Can this be it?” Cate asked as they approached the two-story brick building. “It looks more like a nursing home than a hospital.”

  They parked and went inside, where they were told to wait in the spartan lounge. They tried to stay upbeat while waiting for any information about their friend. After an hour or so, Grace went looking for food and a landline.

  Cate looked at her watch—it was only 7:34. She rose and went to the window. Looking at the sky, she saw the dark clouds of a developing storm. In the parking lot below, a paper cup skittered out of sight under a parked car. Oblivious to the others in the room, she rested her forehead on the cool glass, thoughts of Robin and the cabin swirling in her head just as wildly as the wind now tossed branches of the willow tree outside the second floor window. A lightning flash illuminated tears slowly rolling down Cate’s cheeks.

  “Cate?” Grace’s hand softly touched her shoulder. “You okay?”

  Cate quickly ran her palm across her cheek and forced a smile before turning. “I’m fine.”

  “Here. I finally tracked down a real coffee pot in this place.” Grace handed her a Styrofoam cup. “And two Snickers.”

  “Super-sleuth to the rescue.” Cate gave a crooked smile and took a candy bar.

  Grace resettled herself into one of the upholstered chairs lining two walls of the waiting room. A large round table in the corner held a jigsaw puzzle of the Grand Canyon, partially completed. Cate went back to the window. A nurse walked to the bank of light switches and dimmed the florescent lights. She gave them a practiced smile before leaving.

  “Come sit.” Grace patted the seat of the chair next to her. “There’s nothing for us to do now but wait and pray.” She reached over and snapped on the large lamp on the end table. Its incandescent light encircled her.

  Cate turned. “Okay.” Wearily, she sat and quietly sipped her coffee. “Were you able to reach Brad?”

  “I got his answering service.” Grace tucked an errant peanut back into her mouth. “He was in surgery. They’re getting another doc to close for him, so he should be on his way.”

  “Good.” Cate nodded and once again turned her attention to the fat raindrops on the window. “At least the rain will stop any flare-ups at the cabin.” She made a hiccupping soun
d. “The cabin. As if there’s anything left.”

  Just then a loud rhythmic sound caught their attention. “Helicopter,” Grace mouthed, her eyes wide.

  Outside the window, lights whirled. Through her tears Cate saw that Grace was crying too. Soon the choppety-chop of the blades cut through the rumble of thunder as the helicopter lifted off the hospital roof.

  Grace bent to fish her spare reading glasses from her handbag. Shuffling through the stack left on the table, she managed to find a People magazine in among the Parenting, Golf Digest and Good Housekeeping periodicals. Despite the February publication date, she absently flipped through the pages. “It’s all my fault,” she announced softly. Tears blurred the magazine photos.

  “Your fault?”

  “I’m the one who tipped Brenda off about the button and the cabin.” Grace sniffed. Cate plucked a handful of Kleenex from the box and offered them to her.

  Once more, Grace connected the dots between Brenda’s missing button and her frantic trip to Spirit Falls today. “If only I hadn’t wasted so much time with that stupid remote.” Grace lifted her glasses to dab at her eyes. She blew her nose with a distinct honking sound. “Maybe I would’ve gotten to the cabin in time to warn you and Robin.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Cate placed both hands on top of Grace’s. “Besides, if I’d gone with Robin to the store, maybe—” Cate shook her head. “No, we can’t do this. Second guessing is pointless!”

  Both women lapsed back into silence, Grace flipping pages and Cate staring at the carpet pattern while absently fingering her amulet.

  Suddenly Cate slammed her palms on the wooden arms of the chair. “What good is my gift if I can’t use it to save her?” She made the word gift sound like a profanity.

  Cate’s visions. Though she’d never set much stock by them, Grace had a sudden realization of what they meant to Cate. Blessing, curse … or both? The Dog Whisperer. Grace had ridiculed Cate with the phrase. Just before she found the button that made Brenda come back here and—“Who said no second guessing?” Grace looked sternly over her glasses.

  “I did. But—”

  “Cate.”

  “All right, all right.” Cate sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “What’s taking so long?” She shot a look down the hallway.

  “The sheriff will be here soon,” came a voice from across the room. Cate and Grace were startled. Both had forgotten the presence of Deputy Brill, who now sat thumbing through a Bride magazine. “His orders are that no one talks to Mrs. Bentley before he does.” Brill straightened in her chair, “That’s why I’m assigned to babysit you two.”

  Cate slumped deeper into her chair, her eyes narrowed at the deputy’s insinuation. So what if Brill was right on the money?

  Within minutes, heavy footsteps announced Sheriff Harley’s arrival. “They want to keep Mrs. Bentley here for a day or two,” he announced. Turning to Brill, he asked. “Did you notify her husband?”

  Brill nodded her head toward Cate, who muttered, “He’s on his way.”

  “Robin’s going to be okay, isn’t she?” Cate asked.

  The sheriff shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

  “What about Bren—Mrs. Krause?” Grace shoved her glasses to the top of her head and looked anxiously at the sheriff. “How bad are her injuries?”

  “That one’s in bad shape.” Harley shook his head. “Broken back, pelvis, shattered leg, and head injuries for starters.”

  “Oh, my God.” Grace covered her mouth with her hand.

  “They just air-lifted Mrs. Krause to Eau Claire.”

  Not Robin. Cate and Grace exchanged a look and relief settled on their features.

  “Were you able to talk to her?” Cate sat forward anxiously.

  He shook his head, his disappointment apparent.

  Grace crumpled forward in her chair, resting her head in her hands “I’ll never forgive myself for bringing that psycho bitch into our lives.” She started rocking as she sobbed.

  The look Harley cast in Cate’s direction clearly said, You handle this. I don’t do hysterical women.

  Wordlessly, Cate slid her arm around her friend and let her cry.

  Harley shuffled uncomfortably.

  The nurse entered the room. “Sheriff, we just received a call from Mr. Bentley. He’s on his way, but his car skidded off the road just past Menomonie, so he’ll be delayed. He’s okay, just waiting for a tow.” The nurse handed him a piece of paper. “Here’s his cell phone number.”

  He snatched his cell phone from the case snapped to his belt. Quickly he punched in the numbers. “Dr. Bentley? Sheriff Harley here. I’m sending my deputy to bring you to the hospital.” He paused to listen. “They want to keep your wife overnight. I was just about to speak with her when I got your message.” Again he paused. “That would probably be best. Doctor to doctor.” Harley cleared his throat. “Did you notice what mile marker you’re at?”

  Snapping the phone shut, he turned to Brill and gave her instructions.

  “I’m on it.” Elbows wide, she set off down the hallway.

  “And you two.” Harley turned to Cate and Grace with a bemused smile. “Sit and wait.”

  As soon as he was out of sight, Cate stood abruptly. “ Sit and wait, my ass!” she erupted.

  A devious smile curled Grace’s lips as she stood and motioned for Cate to follow. They moved surreptitiously to the nurses’ station, where they found a board listing Bentley, R. in Room 226.

  Robin’s door was ajar. They stood just outside, scarcely breathing as they strained to hear. Although the sheriff’s questions were audible, Robin’s responses were muffled.

  “What she’s saying?” Grace mouthed.

  Cate shrugged.

  “Why’s he yelling anyway?” she whispered.

  Cate shushed her with a gesture and repositioned her ear at the narrow opening. “Robin just said something about a gun.”

  “A gun?” Grace echoed. She leaned closer, steadying herself with a hand on the door. It swung inward. “Oops,” she cried as she lost her balance.

  Sheriff Harley turned, his eyes widening when the two women literally fell into the room.

  “Yow!” Cate yelled from the floor. Her shoulder bag fell next to her, emptying its contents. She rolled to a sitting position and inspected her elbow before grabbing keys, used Puffs, two tubes of lipstick and a dispenser of Tic Tacs.

  Grace stood, pulling herself up by the door handle, glaring at the door as if it were the source of the problem.

  “Nice of you to drop in.” The sides of Harley’s mouth twitched. “You might as well stay. Not that you’d follow my orders anyway.”

  Grace and Cate rushed to opposite sides of the bed. Cate grabbed Robin’s hand. “What’s this about a gun?”

  “What?” Robin croaked and started coughing.

  “You’ll have to speak louder,” Harley said. “Her hearing is messed up from the shotgun blast.”

  “Permanently?” Cate asked.

  “Don’t know yet. Other than that, and one whopper of a headache, she’s in pretty good shape.”

  “You got shot?” Grace yelled at her.

  “She wasn’t shot. She was the shooter,” the sheriff explained.

  The women looked at her in disbelief.

  “Had to get out …” Robin’s coughing started again.

  Harley nodded. “Do you want them to know what you told me?”

  “Uh-huh.” She coughed again.

  He sighed. “She tells me Mrs. Krause was already in the cabin when she got back.”

  “She hit me from behind,” Robin croaked.

  “After Mrs. Krause hit her over the head, she tied your friend up and locked her in the closet before setting the fire.”

  For once in her life, Grace was speechless. A few seconds passed before it hit her full force. “Oh, God, she really was going to kill you.”

  “Your friend here is mighty lucky her husband left his shotgun in that closet. If she hadn’t
blasted through that wall …”

  Both women looked with new respect at Robin, who nodded in confirmation.

  “Pretty damn gutsy.” Harley slowly shook his head.

  “The button!” Grace suddenly exclaimed. “Did Brenda get the button?”

  “Matter of fact,” the sheriff said, pulling a small plastic bag from his shirt pocket. “They found it in her pants pocket.”

  “And the sweater, the one with the matching buttons. Did they find Brenda’s sweater?”

  “Yup. Found her car right where she hid it behind George’s trailer. The sweater was in the back seat.” Harley smiled.

  A soft snuffle came from the bed. Robin’s eyes were closed and her mouth hung slack.

  Harley motioned them to the door. “Let’s let her sleep.”

  “Besides we still have to rescue Grover from George’s trailer,” Cate said, adding, “You know, George really isn’t a bad sort.”

  The sheriff looked amused. “George just likes to keep watch over things.”

  “What do you mean ‘watch over things’?” Cate countered.

  “How can I put this?” His mouth twisted to one side. “He likes to watch people … sometimes through a window.”

  Grace’s mind flashed back on last year’s skinny-dipping. “He’s a peeping tom?”

  “I knew there was something off about him.” Cate looked disgusted.

  “Ladies, ladies.” There was a hint of paternalism in Harley’s hand on Grace’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s not your usual voyeur stuff. I’ve never gotten a report that he’s watched through bedroom or bathroom windows.”

  “Oh, that’s comforting.” Cate rolled her eyes.

  “Way I see it, he’s just plain lonely. He watches people watch TV or read. Makes him feel like he’s a part of it. He’s very protective of Mrs. Bentley, and I guess for that, we should all be grateful.”

  The women exchanged dubious looks.

  “I know it’s hard to understand. Took me a while too, but George does seem to have a code of decency.

  “Hmmm.” Cate was still not totally convinced. “We need to get Grover.”