A Treasure to Die For

by Radine Trees Nehring

  She opened the top, put her hand in, and with a “Ta-da” yanked out a huge white shirt with blue bath tubs and bright red words printed all over it. She spread the shirt out, and Jason read aloud, “I came clean in the Hot Springs baths.”

  After a shocked second or two, Henry laughed. There was nothing else he could do.

  “Well, aren’t you colorful,” Carrie said, eyeing the shirt as she came in the room. “Eleanor hadn’t much choice when it came to extra large shirts, so I guess one can’t complain, can one? Thank goodness it’s just for today. I remember the doctor said you could have a sling after twenty-four hours.”

  He didn’t have time to reply because Agent Bell was right behind her. Since Henry was already sitting on his bed, Carrie smoothed the spread out on Jason’s, kicked off her shoes, and sat, leaning against the headboard. Bell took the desk chair, turning it to face them.

  He spoke to Carrie first. “Remember anything more about what happened in the storage room at the Fordyce?”

  “Excuse me,” said Henry, earning an irritated glance from Bell, “may I ask a couple of questions before you begin?”

  Without waiting for an answer he went on.

  “How did you know we were in the tunnel?”

  Bell might have been angry at Henry for breaking into his questioning routine, but he answered readily enough. “The dogs. No scent of Ms. McCrite anywhere except between the Fordyce and the Downtowner, where she’d walked, and in both buildings. Nothing anywhere else. No trace of her from searching otherwise. The creek was all that was left unless she got in a car, and we pretty much ruled that out.”

  “Ah, I see. And you knew I was with her because...?”

  “Because we identified your car in the parking lot at Transportation Plaza. Even with limited knowledge about you, Major King, I could see your concern for her and had little problem figuring out your goals and probable actions. Now, Ms. McCrite...”

  “Just one more question. Have you been able to check the knife for fingerprints?”

  “Yes. The Hot Springs Police Department has excellent fingerprint identification ability.”

  “And?” Henry felt he was dragging the words out of Agent Bell.

  “No fingerprints.” He cleared his throat. “Now, Ms. McCrite, have you remembered anything more about what happened while you were with Everett Bogardus?”

  “Yes. The only time I touched his knife was when I was trying to push it away from me. My hand brushed the blade then. See, it made a little cut on these two fingers.” She held her palm toward him. “I never touched the handle. And if you’re wondering, I didn’t see anyone else in the room. But then, all of my attention was certainly on Everett, as his was on me. I don’t know if either of us would have noticed someone else coming in the room. Everett was between me and the entry door, his back to it. I was lying down or kneeling most of the time, hitting at him, trying to shove the knife away.”

  “Did you hear or see the trap door go shut?”

  “I heard a bang, so, yes, I guess I did. Then I don’t recall anything more until I woke up lying in mud. It was dark, of course. I hadn’t remembered that I had the flashlight yet, so I couldn’t see where I was.”

  “Ever notice whether the storage room door was open or closed while you were struggling with Mr. Bogardus?”

  “Everett closed it as soon as we were inside the room.” She shuddered.

  Henry saw the shudder and said, “This is distressing Ms. McCrite, Agent Bell. Can’t you stop?”

  Bell looked at him. “How will we clear her of suspicion in this matter if we don’t have her part of the story?”

  “Easy. For one thing you know Ms. McCrite was not wearing gloves and certainly wouldn’t have had the ability to wipe the knife handle, so...”

  “King, you understand the procedure. We have to confirm evidence, get as much information as we can. I would prefer that you keep out of this.”

  “Right,” Henry said, and Bell, after looking at him sternly for a moment, went back to Carrie.

  “What did Everett Bogardus say during the time you were with him? Begin when he came close to you in the Fordyce gym. The police officer who joined the group just before you left noticed you two were close together, and later a couple of the participants told us they heard you say, ‘Stop, you’re hurting me,’ or something like that.

  “By the way, when it comes to the Elderhostelers, we’ve only done simple questioning about who saw you and where. If you talk with any of them, the coordinator is requesting, at least for the present, that you don’t tell them what really happened. I suggest you say you went off with Bogardus to see something else in the building and didn’t realize anyone was looking for you. No need to alarm folks. They will know Bogardus has died, but the circumstances won’t be given yet. We hope everyone will assume it was from some pre-existing condition.”

  Carrie said, “You do realize that the arrival of the police officer was the very thing that set Everett off? I recognized the man; I’m sure now that he did too. Maybe he was somewhere around the Fordyce when the two officers from the Hot Springs PD came in response to the injury of Ranger Hobbs. By the way, can you tell us how the ranger is doing?”

  “Out of danger. They say he’ll be fine, no permanent damage. He’s in the hospital you went to last night. I talked with him for a short time while King was being treated. Had a giant headache, but the damage wasn’t as deep as it looked. He was hit with the side of the pick head, not the pointed end, thank God.”

  “Did he see who hit him?”

  Bell sighed, looking frustrated, but he wasn’t refusing to answer Carrie’s questions. Henry gave him grudging admiration. At least he was now willing to treat them as intelligent adults.

  “He didn’t see the attacker. He said he heard a noise behind him and had started to turn when he was hit. He caught a glimpse of an arm swinging the pick, that was all.”

  Henry said, “The presence of someone in the basement with a pick may mean you’re right about hidden money, Carrie. The attack on Hobbs indicates that person is—or was—willing to kill to get to it. But the murder of Bogardus suggests either someone hated or feared him for a reason unconnected to the Fordyce, which seems unlikely, or that more than one person knows about the money and was also willing to kill Bogardus to get to it. He, she—or they—may think you’re after their treasure too. Or maybe they suspect something nearer to the real truth, that you’re trying to stop them from getting it. You could still be in danger.”

  Carrie looked thoughtful and murmured, “Hmmm.” Perhaps she was going to listen to him this time, take precautions.

  She finally said, “Yes, but the danger would include you, Henry. Everett said he thought both of us were after his money. So if I’m seen as a threat to this other person, then you are too.

  “Everett’s conversation while he was dragging me down the stairs tells me he had found at least some money in the basement. He said it was hidden in baking powder tins and was ranting on about how his father had ‘got religion’ and hadn’t told him about the money until he was dying. He said nothing that indicated he thought another person might know about it; he only mentioned us. So,” she turned to Bell, “did you find money and baking powder tins in his room?”

  Bell had been listening, lips curved. Was the man smiling? “We found no tins. If there were any, they probably went out in the trash. We’ll check with the housekeeping staff about that. But there was a surprising amount of money, printed no later than the ‘60s, in a Priority Mail package stuck in the bottom of his suitcase. The package was addressed to Bogardus in Cambridge. You’ve explained the money’s presence, and your conversation has been enlightening, to say the least, but can we go back to the beginning of your time with him? You said he was hurting you there in the gymnasium. What happened next?”

  Carrie told them the whole story then, speaking slowly, frowning, obviously re-living the terrible events as she spoke. Henry, who, like Bell, was hearing all of it for the fi
rst time, struggled to control his rising anger. He had the urge to hurt a man who was beyond hurt—a man who was already dead.

  “...and the next thing I remember is waking up in mud. Pretty soon I heard cars passing over the grate covering a storm drain on Central. It clanks, doesn’t fit well. I followed the noise and found the creek, just where Ranger Hawk said it would be. Then I remembered I’d picked up Henry’s flashlight on the basement floor near Ranger Hobbs, and it still worked, so I was able to wade downstream. After a time, there was Henry, come to get me.”

  She turned toward Henry then, and her face was so full of tenderness and—maybe it was love, or warmth and friendship at least—that he almost forgot the present circumstances. He wanted to bound off his bed and go to her.

  Instead, he said, “Carrie, tell Agent Bell why you were hiding when you heard me in the tunnel.”

  “Oh, because I thought you were Everett, of course, coming after me.”

  “So she didn’t have any idea he was dead,” Henry said for Bell’s benefit.

  “I get the point. Now, Major King, how did you decide Ms. McCrite was in the creek tunnel?”

  “Only place she could be. I know her well enough to realize she wouldn’t leave a human who was mortally wounded, even if she did the wounding herself. The wound didn’t look like something she could have caused, but if she’d stabbed Bogardus and had the ability, she would have gone for help, not run away. Therefore she wasn’t where you were looking. She hadn’t been on foot, escaping from the Fordyce above ground. That left the creek. When I understood the concrete basin below that trap door gave access to the creek, I was sure she was down there somewhere, fighting to get out. And I was very concerned that she might be hurt.”

  He looked at Carrie. “I didn’t know she had the flashlight, and in addition to my concern over her physical condition, I was afraid she was trapped there because of the dark. As you know, I couldn’t get into the area from the Fordyce, and I didn’t know the lay of the land well enough to find the creek any other way than through the tunnel opening. So there’s where I went.”

  “Actually, Agent Brooks said you’d do exactly that,” Bell conceded. “Seems he was right.”

  “So now what?”

  “Because of the Elderhostel that you’re part of, as well as your professional ability, I’m going to trust both of you to help us more than I would under ordinary circumstances. Putting together what you’ve said with what little we’ve learned so far, I believe we need someone inside the group to observe everyone there. I’m going to put a police officer in with you. I think we’ll call the man your nephew, King. He’ll be from Little Rock, come to join you as a surprise.

  “As I understand it, individuals who are under fifty-five can be part of an Elderhostel group as long as they’re with a family member who qualifies. He’ll be your family member; we’ve already made arrangements with Ms. Hunt. I know you and Ms. McCrite have been sharing a room, and we’ll have to move you to connecting rooms on this same floor, not difficult since the members of your group don’t take up quite all the available rooms here. The officer, Brad Jorgenson, will sleep with you, King. Ms. McCrite will be next door, with access through an interior door. If you, uh, want to visit her during the night, I don’t expect Officer Jorgenson to object.”

  Carrie said, “That won’t be a problem,” and Henry noticed the agent was actually blushing. He didn’t look at Carrie. She never blushed anyway.

  Bell was keeping his eyes on Henry. “And since you are without the use of one arm at this time, Officer Jorgenson will be able to assist you where needed. That’s the plan. Any questions?”

  Henry said, “I notice you didn’t ask us if we wanted to cooperate.”

  When Bell didn’t answer, he went on. “When will we meet Officer Jorgenson? If he’s my nephew, we need to figure out a story...relationships, all that.”

  “Give me an hour. He’ll be here. Now, are you carrying?”

  “No. This was supposed to be a peaceful vacation, remember? No gun.”

  “Just as well,” Bell said. “You’ll probably be safer without it, and the officer will be armed.”

  “And what are you going to be doing?” Henry asked. “Do you have a line of investigation in mind in addition to this surveillance of the Elderhostel?”

  “Well...” Bell grinned, the first time Henry had seen him do that. “Guess we could search the Fordyce basement for baking powder cans.”

  Henry said, “I don’t think so. Those cans, if they exist, are bait for the killer. I even think you should continue to leave that door alarm into the basement area turned off, unless you can work it as a silent alarm, but do turn on the one going outdoors from that area, and then...”

  “Yes, yes, I know.” Bell grinned again. “We don’t plan to search the basement for money, not yet at least.”

  “How about undercover? Are you going to keep people on watch at the Fordyce?”

  “Law enforcement rangers are already taking care of that for the most part. Ranger Kandler is in charge, and all the park personnel, even the volunteers, will be alerted. After what Ms. McCrite has said, I’m going to suggest they cut down on time off and have more people on duty. Maybe we can add a few police officers dressed as tourists to help keep watch. And I’ll also suggest that no one except law enforcement personnel go to the break room alone. Not that they would. Kandler says since yesterday coffee breaks have decreased considerably, and he thinks most of the staff will choose to eat lunch outside on one of the park benches rather than in the break room. All of them know what happened back there yesterday afternoon.”

  “How do we find you if we need you?” Carrie asked.

  “You have a cell phone?”

  “Yes, but it’s in Henry’s car.”

  “We’ll bring it to you. Here’s my number. You can reach me through this number at any time.”

  “What about my purse?”

  “Under the circumstances you can have it back, but it’s quite a mess. We haven’t looked at the contents yet—no warrant—so I don’t know how well things inside survived. I’ll send it over with Officer Jorgenson.

  “I think that’s all for now. If you have no more questions, I’ll let myself out.”

  Carrie said, “Agent Bell, your suit coat is being dry-cleaned. I’ll get it back to you, and, thank you...for that, for everything.”

  He nodded. “Doing my duty, Ms. McCrite, doing my duty.”

  The door clicked shut behind him.

  The room was silent for a minute before Henry got off his bed, took the two steps that brought him to the second bed, sat down next to Carrie, and put his good arm around her.

  This time she didn’t pull away.

  Chapter XIX

  Carrie

  Carrie’s eyes were shut, her head resting against the portion of Henry’s chest not covered by arm bindings. She knew she looked peaceful, but inside her head thoughts and emotions were jumping every which way.

  Henry was talking softly, apologizing to her because—he said—he’d caused his disastrous fall against the rocks!

  Even before he’d come to sit next to her on the bed, offering one arm for a hug and a warm snuggle against his chest, she’d been ready to speak her own words of contrition. She was eager to get it all out in the open, to say what she’d been rehearsing silently all morning:

  Henry, I was so wrong, so willful, and seeing you hurt is the worst punishment possible.

  But now those words were gone, scrambled by confusion over Henry’s apology for the very same thing.

  His fault? How? She was the one who had jerked away, had caused him to fall. How could his wish to protect her, which he was proclaiming over and over, erase that?

  She could hear his heart beating, bumpa-bumpa.

  She could hear her heart too, vibrating in her ears.

  Surely he knew it was her fault, not his. Did he think he was being chivalrous? She hated that. How could he possibly believe she’d fall for it?

>   The word fall stuck in her head, and with it came new waves of remorse.

  “Carrie, little Cara,” he was saying, his voice vibrating against her ear along with the rhythmic motion of his heart. “I was trying to save you from being bothered by Bell until we could rest, have something to eat, clean up. I admit I was also reacting to feelings stemming from past experiences with the Bureau back in Kansas City. See what that got me?”

  “Henry, don’t, not your fault.”

  “You are very dear to me, and I’m so sorry I caused this. Oh, heck, I’m not good with words, but I do want you to know how much I love you.”

  The words stopped every leaping thought in her head. “Love?”

  He kissed her forehead and, as she tilted her face up, her mouth.

  That’s when the leaping thoughts came back again, centering, not on Henry’s closeness now, not even on the kiss, but on how well she’d been getting along by herself since moving to the Ozarks.

  She’d mastered a lot of skills, everything from mowing the cleared space around her house and getting leaves out of the gutters, to balancing checkbooks and doing bookkeeping. She was proud of her accomplishments.

  If she...Henry’s mouth was soft against hers...so warm, she felt so warm...

  If she ever married again, would the man...would Henry take over those things, the things she had learned to do by herself? Would he clean the gutters?

  Warm...

  New thoughts were exploding behind the old ones, thoughts about being lonely and about how good it felt to be this close to Henry. She was sheltered here. Cared for. Sheltered. Something she wasn’t used to.

  Finally she stopped trying to sort out the emotions tearing around inside her and gave in to enjoyment of Henry’s body as she nestled against him. She let her arms circle around, holding tight, remembering to avoid the damaged shoulder that had begun this conversation.

  After several minutes he pulled back and rested his cheek against the top of her head, saying nothing, thank goodness.