A Treasure to Die For

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A Treasure to Die For Page 22

by Radine Trees Nehring


  What the... Carrie was talking as if they’d had nothing but a pleasant vacation for the past two days. She was simply saying thank you.

  Henry’s own words of sympathy died in his throat as he saw Greta perk up and lift her chin. “I’m so glad you’re having a good time,” she told them. “The rest of the week is even better. Don’t forget, on Friday we have the bus trip to the herb farm and a boat tour on Lake Ouachita. I’ve planned a picnic by the lake, too.

  “I’ll see you two tomorrow,” she finished as she let her husband lead her away. It was as if the entire evening’s events had been erased from her mind.

  Henry was sure Greta would still grieve—however privately—but, thinking about it, he decided there was nothing like being needed—and knowing that what you do is important to others—for helping anyone through a bad patch.

  I guess that’s how mothers make it through many of the problems they face, he thought.

  Finally agents Bell and Brooks took pity on them and said they’d delay hearing their reports until the following morning. Would they be available at 8:30?

  “We’d miss the 8:30 session. It’s about cooking with herbs,” Carrie said, “but I don’t really mind.”

  Henry didn’t mind at all.

  He already knew too well that the agents had a long night ahead of them and plenty of other people to talk with. Poor Gwen and Brad weren’t likely to get much sleep, and Eleanor and Jason, who were in the room now, seemed to be all fired up and eager to talk. The danger and excitement they had faced was new to them, and they both said they were willing to stay. “Couldn’t sleep anyway,” said Jason, who was treating his “brave detective” wife with a deference that bordered on awe.

  As Carrie and Henry waited for Agent Brooks to bring a car around to the front of the bath house, they listened to their friends tell Bell the story of their evening.

  Eleanor had seen Marcus Trotter come into the building while Carrie was on the floor below, and she’d tried to get to Carrie with a warning. Marcus caught up with her as she started down the stairs, grabbed her in a choke hold, and dragged her away. He gagged her with his handkerchief, tied her ankles and wrists with her own shoelaces, and used the red scarf she was wearing to tie her to the ceiling beam. Then he left her to hang herself.

  Hearing this, Henry was almost sorry Carrie’s pipe hadn’t done more damage to Trotter. The man had known Eleanor would drop the minute her feet slipped inside her loose shoes and her toes lost their ability to support her weight, or when the chair tilted. He’d cruelly left her to await her own death.

  But the chair held, and so did Eleanor’s toes. She’d fought for her life against all odds, and Jason had come in time to save her.

  That sort of thing can improve any marriage, Henry thought as he watched Eleanor and Carrie wrap each other in a goodbye hug.

  Agent Brooks drove Henry and Carrie the short distance to their hotel, repeating that he and Bell would be back to question them at 8:30 the following morning.

  “’Kay,” Carrie said, sounding sleepy now, “but a class called ‘Scientific and Industrial Uses of Crystal’ begins at 10:30, and I plan to be in that class.”

  “I imagine we can get through our discussion in two hours,” said Brooks. “I’ll keep your deadline in mind.”

  Henry had forgotten about the chaos in his room.

  Carrie evidently had too. They stared, speechless, at the mess and the crime scene tape closing it off. They turned back to stare at the one queen-sized bed in Carrie’s room. Then they stared at each other.

  Finally Henry spoke, trying to be as cool and matter-of-fact about this situation as Greta and Carrie had just been about the coming Elderhostel events. “You can have the bathroom first. While you’re getting ready for bed, I’m going under the tape to grab my razor and a few toiletries, then I’ll call for room service breakfasts.”

  She wasn’t long getting ready, nor was he.

  They chose sides and climbed into bed. After a moment of quiet, two hands reached out and touched. Then, feeling the comfort of each other’s warmth, they fell asleep.

  Agents Brooks and Bell, tired-eyed but crisply dressed, arrived just after the room service breakfasts were delivered. Carrie and Henry were still in night clothes, but both had put on robes, and they sat together on their bed eating breakfast while the agents pulled up chairs to talk.

  “First,” Bell said to Henry, “Officer Jorgenson told me what he could about your abduction, but would you describe it again for me?”

  Henry described between bites while Bell took notes, occasionally nodding encouragement. Meanwhile Brooks was watching Carrie eat. After asking him if he’d had breakfast and receiving a “Yes, but,” answer, Carrie piled eggs and a slice of bacon on a biscuit and offered it to him with a bathroom tumbler full of coffee.

  The men asked question after question, alternating between Carrie and Henry, until they’d heard the entire story, and Henry learned how Greta and Martha were followed to the Quapaw. It had been very hard not to laugh during Carrie’s account. It sounded to him like she was trying to relate every detail accurately, though she’d stumbled a bit during the part where she described Jason and Gwen’s play-acting.

  Finally Bell asked Carrie, “Why did you take the risk of subduing Trotter and Jones with that pipe? The fact you managed to hit them both was...unexpected...a gamble.”

  “Maybe, but I thought Martha was going to kill Henry with whatever was in the hypodermic needle. I had the pipe, I had the opportunity, and I had to do something.”

  “You could have failed. What you did was dangerous.”

  “That didn’t even occur to me. In fact I didn’t have time to think. I just did what I needed to do. You face danger too, Agent Bell. We all do every day, one way or another.”

  Subdued, Agent Bell stared at her for a moment, glanced at Henry, then said only, “Yes, ma’am, I guess we do, I guess we do.”

  After a silence Henry asked, “What more have you learned about Marcus Trotter and Martha Rae Jones? I’ve begun to suspect he’s mob-connected. What about that?”

  “You’re right, he is. The connection was through his former wife. She’s Carmen Landau, the daughter of Rollo Landau, who died in a Federal prison last year. Things have been going downhill for Trotter since the father died, partly because Carmen walked out on their marriage shortly after his death.

  “We hear from Chicago that her brothers never liked him as much as the father did—jealousy, maybe. I gather Trotter has been on rather precarious ground with the family since separating from his wife, no matter how much they may have depended on his legal talents in the past. He’s kept more than one of them out of prison, but this last time the evidence against the father was too damning for him to overcome.

  “I suspect the problems looming there are one reason Trotter was interested in finding money in Hot Springs when the opportunity presented itself.”

  “What about Sim Simpson? They’re from the same firm.”

  “Different departments. Simpson is in corporate, Trotter handled many of the big-deal criminal cases. They did build the firm together, starting with just the two of them many years ago, but we haven’t found that Simpson is involved in anything illegal.

  “I’m guessing Trotter urged his partner to come here with him because he thought that would make the trip seem less unusual to those who worked with him as well as to the Landau family. Being with a friend would also help him ‘hide in the crowd’ while here, so to speak. Greta Hunt says he asked her not to mention their relationship. He told her he wanted to be seen as just one of the regular guys, not as her brother.”

  “Ah, yes. And Ms. Jones?”

  “She used to be a geriatric nurse but was fired about a year ago because she was making too many mistakes with patients. When one woman died, some misuse of drugs was suspected, though no one followed up on it. Folks at the nursing home where she worked said yesterday that the family wasn’t inclined to prosecute, and on their own the
y couldn’t prove anything. The woman who died was nearly a hundred years old, and wealthy, which probably had quite a bit to do with her family’s disinclination to pursue the matter.

  “According to Jones’s daughter, who lives near her mother in Oregon, the woman has been more than a little unsettled since the death of her husband two years back. Evidently she’s always been flighty; the daughter says her dad was the stabilizing influence in their family. Losing the nursing job last year put her over the edge, I’d guess, though I’m no psychiatrist. Daughter says she’s been acting very depressed lately and was especially worried about money, though, again according to the daughter, she had no reason to be.

  “By the way, it is a good thing Ms. McCrite took Jones out with that pipe when she did. The drugs she had were dangerous, and the stuff in that hypodermic could certainly have killed you and Brad in the dosage she planned. So, King, it looks like Ms. McCrite saved your life.”

  “Oh, my,” Carrie said as Henry took her hand.

  Brooks looked at his watch and then at Bell. “Well, that about wraps this up, doesn’t it, Agent Bell? It’s 9:45. You two should have plenty of time to get ready for the session on crystals.”

  “Will we see you again?” Carrie asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Bell told her. “There will be some follow-up to deal with. But, for the most part, you can enjoy the rest of the week—if you stay out of trouble and try not to notice anything peculiar, that is.”

  He winked at her. “And please don’t call us if you do see something out of the ordinary.”

  “What about the money in the Fordyce?” Carrie asked.

  “Hmmm. Guess we’ll leave that up to the National Park Service,” Bell said. “If more of it exists, and to be honest I’m inclined to think it does, well, then, it’s on their property. If they want to tear up the Fordyce basement, their choice.”

  “Oh, dear,” Carrie said. “Then we’ll probably never know...”

  “Probably not,” Bell told her firmly as he and Agent Brooks rose to leave. “It’s out of our hands...and yours, Ms. McCrite, and yours.”

  “How about my room?” Henry asked.

  “Okay to go back in. Thanks for reminding me,” Bell said as he went to take down the crime scene tape. “My suggestion is that you retrieve your possessions and let the hotel people take care of the rest of it. They’ll put things back together for you.”

  Henry and Carrie shook hands with both agents, and Henry shut the door firmly behind them.

  “Well,” he said. “Well.” Was now the time?

  “Well?” She was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he stood looking down at her for a moment before—moving very slowly—he got down on his knees. Did men still do it this way?

  At first she looked startled. Then, for probably the first time in her life, Carrie McCrite blushed.

  He took both of her hands in his. At last she smiled, and it was a smile like the one he’d seen on her face while he was telling the Elderhostel group about his friendship with her...explaining why he was at this Elderhostel. A quiet, knowing smile.

  Guess it was meant to be. Carrie believed in things being meant, being part of a big, overall plan.

  So, say it, Henry King. You’ve thought about it enough, say it.

  “Carrie...dearest Cara, I’ve known you a couple of years now, and we’ve become very close friends. More than close. I’ve known I was in love with you since...since that time we were trapped in the cave last November.

  “This week we both proved, not for the first time, that we care enough to be willing to die for each other. Therefore, I think—hope—we’re ready to celebrate living for each other and to share our happiness in being together as partners in life.”

  She stood and, holding his good right arm, helped him unfold and get to his feet. She was still smiling...were those tears in her eyes...?

  “So, Carrie, will you be my wife? I, uh, don’t have a ring to give you yet, and I know I should, but...” The words rushed out. “Will you marry me anyway?”

  The smile was still there and got bigger and bigger until she began to laugh through tears now streaming down her cheeks.

  “Yes, Henry, yes, I most certainly will.”

  They almost missed the crystal session at 10:30.

  As it was, Carrie didn’t hear much of what the presenter said. Her mind was busy; she was planning A Wedding to Die For.

  Recipes

  Magic Two Meatloaf

  (Quantities are easier to remember,

  Carrie believes, if they all have

  the same number!)

  2 lbs lean ground beef

  Scant 2 cups dry stuffing mix (Note from a friend: very scant.)

  Scant 2 cups tomato juice, or enough to just soften stuffing mix

  2 eggs, beaten until uniform yellow in color

  Scant 2 tsp salt, or salt to taste

  Pepper to taste

  2 heaping T. ketchup (Cheat, put at least three.)

  2 heaping T. prepared mustard (See above.)

  2 quarter-cups minced onion. (For everyone but Carrie, that’s a half cup. Use more if you like onions.)

  Soften stuffing mix in the juice. Beat eggs and add to stuffing mix. Add remaining ingredients and mix well. Shape into loaf in roasting pan. Bake, covered, 350 degrees for 1½ hours.

  Suggestion: Put medium potato chunks around loaf for last hour of baking. Carrie serves this with her home-made peach, apple, or pear sauce (peel, slice, cook fruit, add sugar and spices to taste at end of cooking and stir until sugar dissolves, whir in blender), green beans cooked with a bit of chopped onion, and crescent rolls.

  No-Thaw Hamburger Meatloaf

  Use approximately 1 lb lean hamburger, frozen in a lump just as it came from the grocery store. (If the hamburger isn’t frozen, reduce baking time 30 minutes, but this recipe—trust Carrie—tastes better made with frozen hamburger. Who knows why?) For larger amounts of hamburger, increase baking time.

  1 can beef broth. Carrie buys the no-fat kind from a health food store.

  1 small can tomato juice or similar tomato product. Carrie uses the seasoned tomato sauce she makes from her garden tomatoes, but use your imagination here. Have fun experimenting. How about salsa, picante sauce, or seasoned canned tomatoes for example? If sauce is very thick, add water. Quantities of all additions are flexible, according to taste. Just make sure there is plenty of liquid around the meat at all times.

  1 medium to large onion, cut in strips, and 1 green pepper, cut into strips with membrane and seeds removed. You can also add crushed garlic, or other seasonings that please you, to the sauce. Salt and pepper to taste.

  Unwrap the meat and put it in a large casserole dish (3 quart or larger) or a roaster with a lid. Salt and pepper the meat lump, arrange onion and pepper slices on top. Pour the mixed broth and tomato product around the sides. Bake, covered, 350 degrees, for an hour and a half. For more than two or three people, increase the amount of hamburger and test for doneness after the hour and a half. (The meat will have a pinkish tinge throughout because of the tomato.) If not done, cook an additional fifteen or twenty minutes per pound, being sure there is plenty of liquid around the meat. When done, thicken gravy by adding a tablespoon or so of corn starch softened in small amount of water and stirred thoroughly into the liquid. Return meat and sauce to the oven until the gravy thickens. Serve with potatoes or rice, vegetable and fruit.

  One possible variation is No-Thaw Meatballs. After meat has softened during baking process, use a teaspoon to break into rounded meatball-sized chunks. (For this version, cut pepper and onion into smaller chunks and let it float in sauce.) Use a larger proportion of tomato product for the liquid, spaghetti sauce, for example. Serve with pasta, garlic toast, and a tossed salad or raw vegetable platter.

  About the Author

  Award-winning Arkansas writer and journalist Radine Trees Nehring and her husband, photographer John Nehring, live in the rural Arkansas Ozarks near Gravette.

  Nehring�
�s writing awards include the Governor’s Award for Best Writing about the State of Arkansas, Tulsa Nightwriter of the Year Award, and the Dan Saults Award, which is given by the Ozarks Writers League for nature- or Ozarks-value writing. The American Christian Writers named Nehring Christian Writer of the Year in 1998, and the Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc., named her book Dear Earth Best Non-Fiction Book and her novel A Valley to Die For Best Mystery Novel. A Valley to Die For was a 2003 Macavity Award nominee for Best First Novel.

  Research for her many magazine and newspaper features and her weekly radio program, Arkansas Corner Community News, has taken the Nehrings throughout the state. For more than twenty years Nehring has written non-fiction about unique people, places, and events in Arkansas. Now, in her Something To Die For Mystery series, she adds appealing characters fighting for something they believe in and, it turns out, for their very lives.

  BOOKS BY

  ST KITTS PRESS

  Check our website for special offers.

  PO Box 8173 • Wichita KS 67208

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  [email protected] • www.StKittsPress.com

  A River to Die For

  by Radine Trees Nehring

  A camping trip turns deadly when Carrie’s son Rob and Henry’s half-sister Catherine go missing.

  Mystery Scene Magazine (reviewed by Betty Webb) “When it comes to likeable characters, few can create them better than Radine Trees Nehring...”

  A Wedding to Die For

  by Radine Trees Nehring

  Carrie and Henry’s wedding at the Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, is threatened by a bombing, a murder, and a ghost bride wearing red.

  The Oklahoman (reviewed by Kay Dyer) “…a lively, suspenseful few days at a top Arkansas tourist spot.”

  A Treasure to Die For

 

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