False Cast: a small town murder mystery (Frank Bennett Adirondack Mountain Mystery Series Book 5)

by S. W. Hubbard

  “Penny?” a querulous voice came over the line.

  Frank leaned in. Was that Olivia?

  “Yes, honey, it’s me.” Penny kept her voice low and soothing. “We’ve been worried about you, Olivia. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I guess, but…” Her voice was so soft Frank could barely hear her. Was she scared, not able to talk? He scrawled a note to Penny—SAFE?

  “But what? Olivia, are you in a safe place? Can you talk to me?”

  Frank ran through his options. Setting up a trace through the state police would take forever, but Penny would be able to see what number was the last incoming call, and he could find out who it was registered to. Unless it was a throwaway cell.

  “I’m not hurt, but I need— I can’t— Oh, I wish I never left, but now I can’t come back.”

  “Yes, you can, honey.” Penny couldn’t repress her eagerness. “Everyone misses you. Everyone wants you home. I’ll come get you. Tell me where you are.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Something rattled in the background. A sharp intake of breath. Olivia’s voice got even softer. “I can’t talk any more. I’ll call again.”

  “Olivia, wait!”

  The line went dead.

  Chapter 36

  Frank grabbed the library phone and retrieved the number of the last incoming call. “Five-one-eight area code. She’s still local.”

  “She said, ‘I’m not sure where I am.’ That means someone’s holding her captive.” Penny’s voice ascended the scale of hysteria.

  “She also said, ‘I wish I’d never left.’ That means she ran away. Or agreed to let Edwin take her away.”

  Frank headed for the door. “I’ll find out whose phone this is. We’ll get a tap put on the library line. If Olivia calls back soon, text me.”

  Penny raked her hands through her long, dark hair. “But whoever she ran away with won’t let her leave, won’t let her use the phone. She’s in danger.”

  Certainly, Olivia hadn’t wanted to be caught on the phone. Yet Frank thought she hadn’t sounded terrified, only furtive. On the porch of the library, he flipped the sign on the front door from OPEN to CLOSED and delivered one more instruction to his wife. “Don’t tell Edwin and Lucy anything about this. Don’t breathe a word to anyone.”

  While Frank was on the phone arranging for a monitor on the library line, Earl got the name of the owner of the phone number from which Olivia had called. He crossed to Frank’s desk and slid a piece of paper in front of him.

  Land line. Andrew and Courtney Upton.

  Earl started talking as soon as Frank hung up. “Noah Upton was the little red-haired kid Ronnie held hostage at the Happy Camper Day Care Center. These are his parents. Why would Olivia be with them?”

  Why indeed?

  “They live on Carson Street in Verona,” Earl continued. “How would she get clear over there unless someone took her? Let’s go.”

  Frank thought aloud as he drove. “If Noah Upton was in daycare, that means the house is most likely empty all day long. We don’t know who Olivia is with, or who she’s afraid of.”

  “You think Olivia’s hiding out there during the day?” Earl shook his head. “How would she know that house is empty?”

  “Pam most certainly would know the status of her customer’s house—”

  Earl punched his palm. “So Pam is helping her husband. But what would they want with Olivia?”

  Frank gazed at the road unwinding before them.

  “Frank, are you listening? Maybe Ronnie is at the Uptons’ house. He could be holding Olivia hostage. She hung up when he walked in on her.” Earl pounded the dashboard as a slow-moving truck pulled out in front of them. He reached to turn on the siren.

  Frank slapped his hand away. “The house is empty during the day while the parents work, but occupied at night. Could the Uptons be helping Ronnie?”

  “Why would they help a guy who held their son hostage? And that still doesn’t explain the connection to Olivia.”

  Frank took his eyes off the road to look at Earl. “Olivia didn’t call Edwin or Lucy or even Anita. She called Penny. My wife.”

  “So?”

  “This could be a trap.”

  The rain had started again, lashing against the patrol car windows. Frank focused on driving, but his mind churned with the possible ways the Uptons, the Gatrells, and Olivia might be linked. The Uptons must have been in the crowd of parents at the day care center the day of the crisis. Frank squinted with the effort of pulling specific memories from the blur of screaming and crying, fear and anger and gratitude. Some fragment of knowledge tantalized him but he couldn’t pin it down. “You said Noah was the little fellow with red hair?” He spoke to Earl after several minutes of silence.

  “Huh?”

  Frank slapped the steering wheel. “I’ve got it! Noah’s mom was the very emotional lady who went around hugging everyone after the kids were released. She had long, curly red hair.”

  “So?”

  “I saw her at the Library Luau. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. She won six cooking lessons at the Iron Eagle Inn and she threw her arms around Edwin.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Edwin. Olivia’s with Edwin.”

  They passed the Welcome to Verona sign.

  “You think Edwin got Olivia to agree to hide out at the Uptons’ house? And now Olivia regrets it?” Earl’s voice got more incredulous with each question. “You think that call has nothing to do with Ronnie Gatrell?”

  Frank stared through the windshield. He didn’t want Earl to see how upset he was. How could Edwin have done this to Olivia…to Lucy…to him? In his mind he played out the nightmare scenario of arresting his good friend. Maybe there was some way Edwin could get off with probation if—

  “Frank? So you think Edwin and Olivia made it look like she ran away so the social workers and the judge would think Anita wasn’t a good mother?”

  Frank nodded. He couldn’t bear to speak. Why did Earl find it necessary to spell out every sordid detail?

  “But are the Uptons in on it? Or did he just move her there for today and—”

  Frank jerked the steering wheel to avoid a pothole. “I don’t know! I don’t know how he’s planning to pull it off. Maybe Olivia called Penny because she really does regret ever getting into this scheme. Or she’s just lonely there by herself. Or maybe the call is all part of Edwin’s plan. He would know that Penny would tell me right away, but that there would be less scrutiny if Olivia called the library, not our office. Bad luck for him that I was there when the call came in. I heard her voice.”

  Earl’s brow furrowed. “I still don’t totally get what the plan is.”

  “We find Olivia. We look like heroes. Anita looks like a lousy mother. Lucy and Edwin get Olivia back. Life goes back to normal at the inn. No need to run off to South America.”

  “What about Anita?”

  Frank’s fury boiled over. “Anita is screwed. The story of her life.”

  Chapter 37

  Earl turned off Main Street in Verona onto Carson Street and followed Frank’s order to park close to the corner. He put a restraining hand on Earl’s arm to prevent him from catapulting out of the car, and sized up the scene. The Uptons’ home was five houses down from the intersection with Main Street. Neither Edwin’s nor Lucy’s car was parked on the street or in the driveway. A big, shaggy evergreen obscured the front porch from view, and a hedge ran along both sides of the property. For a house in town, it offered a fair amount of privacy.

  Because of the gloomy weather, some houses already had lights on, but the Uptons’ house was dark. Frank went down the driveway of the house next door, and Earl followed. When they got to the backyard, they pushed through the hedge into the Uptons’ yard. Picnic table. Swing set. Padlocked cellar doors, leading directly underground. Big flowerpot on the porch. No sign of a break-in.

  Frank kept Earl behind him as they approached the house. Together, they st
ood at the back door and listened.

  Silence.

  Frank tried the door, and the knob turned. Had Edwin told Olivia to leave it unlocked to lure them in? Frank pushed Earl behind him and they entered the house through a small laundry room.

  The strong scent of microwave popcorn greeted them. Someone was definitely here.

  The possibility that the intruder really was Ronnie was slim, but still merited caution. Pressed against the laundry room wall, Frank shone his flashlight into the dim kitchen. The room was empty, neat as a pin, with no physical sign of the popcorn other than the scent lingering in the air.

  Ronnie had never bothered cleaning up after himself in any of the other homes he’d broken into. Edwin, however, was famously tidy. Frank’s tension changed from fear of a physically dangerous confrontation to dread of an emotionally dangerous one.

  “Earl, stand by the door to the basement. Don’t go down there alone, but make sure no one gets out this way.”

  Frank walked through the empty dining room into the living room at the front of the house. The big squishy cushions on the sofa looked tumbled. An afghan draped across the back of the sofa hung askew. Frank put his hand on the TV. Still warm.

  Had Olivia heard them enter? Was she hiding?

  He checked the front door. It was chained on the inside, so she hadn’t gone out that way. He stood at the foot of the stairs. “Olivia? Olivia, it’s Frank. Are you up there, honey? Don’t be afraid. No one is angry at you. Everything’s going to be all right. We all want you to come home.”

  Silence.

  Frank headed up the stairs. Three bedrooms and a bath—all empty. He checked under the beds and in the closets, his heart sinking as each came up blank.

  She had left before they got there. Whoever had walked in on her phone call had taken her away. If it was Edwin, at least Olivia was not in danger. Frank kneaded his eyes. But what if he still didn’t understand what was going on here?

  The popcorn and the warm TV taunted him with how narrowly they’d missed her.

  When Frank returned to the kitchen, Earl had pulled the white plastic trash bag out of the can. “Lots of snack food wrappers and soda cans in here. We can check them for fingerprints if we need to. I also checked the browser history of that old Dell.” Earl pointed to a clunky computer on a desk in the corner of the kitchen. “Facebook, Instagram,YouTube, BuzzFeed. All sites a teenager would visit. She’s alone here all day amusing herself until the Uptons get home.”

  Was she? Frank glanced around the kitchen and the small family room adjacent. Not a sippy cup…not a Cheerio…not a toy out of place. He yanked open the fridge: no milk, no juice, no eggs, just a brown-edged head of lettuce and some condiments.

  “The Uptons aren’t helping Olivia. They must be on vacation.” Frank turned toward the basement door. “Let’s check down here.”

  He flipped the wall switch at the head of the stairs, but no light came on. As he fumbled for his flashlight, a sound rose from the dank cellar.

  “Someone’s down there,” Earl stage-whispered.

  Whispering was hardly necessary. They’d been thumping through the house like elephants. Certainly anyone hiding in the basement knew they were on the way down.

  Why was Olivia hiding from them? The thought of a trap returned. “Stay here, Earl.”

  The sound came again. A rustling.

  Was it intentional? A lure?

  The beam of Frank’s flashlight cut through the dark. He edged down the stairs sideways, his back against the rough concrete wall. A shelf full of canned goods. A tool bench. A washer and dryer.

  He shined the flashlight into the corners of the basement. A flash of movement. The rustling sound grew louder. Frank flattened himself against the wall.

  Two small eyes glowed in the flashlight beam.

  A chipmunk. The terrified creature had figured out how to get into the basement, but couldn’t figure out how to leave.

  Frank’s grip on the flashlight relaxed. He paced around the basement. Beside the water heater and furnace, one corner of the basement held a square of carpeting, a mini-fridge, a TV with an attached PlayStation, and a dingy recliner. Andrew Upton had a little man-cave down here where he retreated to play video games. Two empty Miller cans and a crumpled chip bag lay on the floor. Frank took one step closer to the chair.

  On the nubby beige upholstery of the arm, a splodge of brownish red.

  Earl appeared behind him. “Blood! She is hurt.”

  “Could be. Or maybe it’s just spilled salsa.” Frank lowered his head to look more closely. That’s when he saw it. Long, pointy, beige and black so it blended with the chair. He plucked it up with his fingertips and held in in the beam of the flashlight.

  A porcupine quill.

  Chapter 38

  Frank continued staring at the quill.

  Earl prodded him. “C’mon—what are we waiting for? What is that thing? We need to get this blood called in to the state police.”

  Frank headed back to the kitchen. With a quick flick of the wrist, he dumped the garbage bag out on the counter. Popcorn bag, two empty soda cans, microwave pizza box, two Kit-Kat wrappers.

  And…Frank held a yellow and blue package aloft.

  “Teddy Grahams,” Earl said. “Ronnie’s got Olivia and he’s on the run. He’s slipped through our fingers again.”

  Frank stared at the package. Then he started to speak. “RJ Gatrell is fourteen, a freshman in high school. How might he have known Olivia? What could have brought them together?”

  “I don’t know. 4H has girls and guys, but RJ’s not in 4H.”

  “Neither is Olivia. But there has to be something. Those two are friends. I’m sure of it.”

  Earl stiffened. “Wait a minute! That stolen truck report that I took this morning—it was Dennis Webber’s. He’s got an old truck in his garage that he tinkers with, fixing it up for when Denny is old enough to drive. I bet—“

  “RJ took it. That’s how he got Olivia over here. RJ isn’t old enough to have a license, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to drive. He’s got an ATV.”

  Frank kept talking as he swept the trash back into the bag and headed for the door. “Pam now works at the Burger King near the mall in Plattsburgh. When we get back to the office, call them up and find out what days and hours she’s worked this week. I bet RJ has had plenty of opportunities to slip out of the house unnoticed. And I want you to find out where the Uptons work, and where they’ve been this week, and who knows about their schedule.”

  Earl hustled to keep up with Frank, who was already at the door of the patrol car. “So that’s how he gets the supplies to his dad. Maybe there never has been anyone else helping Ronnie.”

  “Maybe,” Frank said as he threw the car into reverse. “Except now RJ has convinced Olivia to pitch in. At the library fundraiser, RJ won a pair of porcupine quill earrings. I thought he got them for his mom even though Penny said they’re not the kind of thing Pam would wear.”

  Earl nodded. “Anita let Olivia get her ears pierced. You were complaining about that.”

  “RJ is a good-looking kid. He’s a year or two older.” Frank shook his head. “A year ago, Olivia would have had more sense than to do this. Now her hormones have kicked in and she’s as dumb as any other teenager.”

  “But if she went off with RJ, why did Olivia tell Penny she didn’t know where she was?”

  “Maybe she’s still trying to protect RJ. Possibly she wants to sneak away from him and have Penny pick her up, but she doesn’t know how to give the right directions. Or maybe—”

  “Maybe what?”

  Frank couldn’t let go of the possibility that Edwin was somehow involved. Courtney Upton was taking cooking lessons at the inn. Frank and Edwin were friends, but he didn’t know everyone Edwin knew…didn’t know the many ways Edwin had woven himself into the Trout Run community. Could Edwin have made some sort of deal with RJ? Watch over Olivia for a few days and I’ll help your dad?

  When
they got back to the office, Frank informed Trudy of the near miss with Olivia. When he got off the phone, Earl had some answer for him.

  “The Uptons have been staying with her mom in Saranac Lake during the week so that the grandmother can watch Noah while the parents are at work,” Earl said. “The house has been empty all week. And Courtney did mention it to Edwin at the Library Luau.”

  Frank and Earl looked at each other in silence.

  “There’s one more thing,” Earl said.

  Frank rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “What?”

  “The browser history on the Uptons’ computer showed one other website—VitaVine dot com. Courtney said she and her husband had never visited it. That means Olivia and RJ were looking at it.”

  Frank shook himself to attention. “That stuff keeps cropping up. Don’t let me forget about it. But right now, I have to call on Pam Gatrell.” He pushed himself out of his chair.

  “Frank.”

  He turned with one foot out the door. Earl’s worried eyes met his own.

  “What about Edwin? Should I go over to the inn and talk to him?”

  The radiator clanked. Doris slammed the lid of the photocopier.

  “Not yet.”

  Frank sped down the long driveway to the Gatrells’ house. Careening around a bend, he nearly crashed into a car speeding up the drive. They both slammed on their brakes, avoiding a head-on crash by a few feet. Pam leaped out of the other car, wild-eyed.

  “What happened? What do you know?” she screamed as she ran towards him.

  Frank caught her in his arms. “Where are you going?”

  “RJ is missing! Have you found him? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  “I just missed him. He and Olivia Veech were at Courtney Upton’s house.”

  “Wha—? Why would he be there? Olivia…you mean that girl who ran away from home a few days ago?”

  Frank forced Pam to sit down in the patrol car and calm down. Gradually, a coherent story emerged. She’d been working extra shifts at the Burger King all week. She and RJ had often missed each other—Pam asleep when he left for school, RJ asleep when she returned from work. Today, she’d assumed he’d gotten himself off to the school bus stop, but the high school attendance office had called to report that RJ wasn’t in school. And the baseball coach said he’d missed practice all week. When she’d checked his bedroom, the bed was undisturbed, still made up with the fresh sheets she’d put on yesterday before she left for work.