by Fry,Patricia
“Okay,” Savannah said. “Good idea. Her sweater and hat are in her room. The stroller’s on the porch. Thank you.”
“So you’re sure it was your father?” Craig asked the child. When she nodded, he asked, “Where did this take place, Kira?”
“Almost in front of our house. I went outside and I was sitting on a rock just listening to the frogs and crickets and I heard something else.”
“So it was dark?”
She hesitated. “Yes, only the street light was on.”
“Where’s the street light, hon? Right in front of your house?”
“Across the street, actually.”
“Now tell me exactly what you heard,” Craig prompted.
“It was a sort of a yell, like when someone holds their hand over your mouth and you yell…”
“Muffled?” Savannah offered.
“Yeah. Like that. Then I heard something drop.”
“Like a body?” Craig asked.
“No, like something metal—a tool, maybe or a metal cup, like those you take camping.”
“Where did the sound come from?”
“I wasn’t sure. I sneaked around the side of the house to the front yard and that’s when I saw him.”
“Who did you see?” Craig asked.
“My father.”
“In front of your house?”
Kira shook her head. “Well, sort of—partly in front of our house and partly in front of the neighbor’s house. He lifted something like a sleeping bag or blanket with something wrapped in it. It looked heavy. He put it in the back of the truck.”
“His truck?”
She looked puzzled for a moment. “No. We don’t have a truck. Someone else’s truck.”
“Do you know whose truck?”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t pay much attention to the truck. I was just wondering what was wrapped in that blanket. I decided later it must have been Uncle Rodney.”
Craig took a breath and glanced at Savannah. He addressed Kira again. “Then what happened, hon?”
“My father drove away.” She stopped. “No, there’s more. He picked up something off the ground. That’s when I saw it was a knife. A big knife. Not like one from the kitchen, but like the one Uncle Rodney sometimes wore in a holster on his belt. He threw the knife in the back of the truck and drove away. Later on my mother told me Uncle Rodney was dead. When I heard he had been stabbed, then I knew for sure what my father had done that night.”
“Can you describe the man you saw—the one you think was your father?” Before she could speak, Craig said, “Now Kira, think very carefully. I don’t want you to describe your father. I want you to describe the man you saw that night.”
“But it was…”
He held his hand up. “Just concentrate on what you saw that night, okay? What did this person look like? What was he wearing?”
“Well, he was tall and sorta wide, you know—big. His back was to me mostly. He was wearing a baseball cap—black, I think, or dark blue. His clothes were black or maybe dark blue or dark green.”
“So what kind of shirt was he wearing?”
“Oh, he had a jacket on. It looked like a black jacket with something on the back.”
“Something printed on the back? Do you know what it said?”
“Like a picture and writing. No, I don’t know what the picture was. I was too busy being scared.”
“Did you see his face at all?”
“No. Just his back.”
“Kira,” Savannah said, “the jacket and the baseball cap—have you ever seen your dad wear something like that before? Does your dad own clothes like that?”
She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No. Well, I have seen him wear a baseball cap maybe only a couple of times at Timmy’s soccer game. And the jacket—no, he’s never worn that before that I remember.”
Craig grinned at the child. “Kira, you’re a brave girl and you’ve done the right thing. I want to thank you for bringing us the truth. You may have saved an innocent man from being punished.” He took her hand. “I also want to leave this with you. I want you to stop being afraid. It doesn’t sound like anyone saw you watching that night. No one knows you were there. And there’s also the very real possibility that the person you saw that night was not your father at all. From the sounds of it, the person you saw could be a stranger.”
“But he looked just like my dad and why would he be mad at me if he didn’t know I saw him? He acts like he’s mad at me.”
“Like I told you, Kira,” Savannah said, “that could be purely your imagination—because you’re afraid he saw you. Now that you’ve gotten this off your chest, maybe you’ll relax some and you’ll notice a difference in the way your father behaves around you.” She then said, “Hon, I need to talk to the detective for a minute, do you feel okay about going back to your house now?”
After thinking about it, she said, “Yeah. My mom’s probably home now. I’m okay.” She turned toward the door, then looked back again, adding, “Thank you.”
“Cute girl,” Craig said, watching the child leave. “What a burden she’s been carrying.”
“Yes, I sure hope that wasn’t her father she saw.”
“She seems pretty sure that it was.”
Savannah grimaced. “Craig, I wanted to ask you how Iris is? I haven’t seen her in a while—I’ve only spoken to her briefly.”
“Yeah, she’s been busy with those new clients of hers.”
“Is she enjoying the job?”
He hesitated before saying, “Actually, I don’t know. She doesn’t talk much about it other than to say those people are kind of strange.”
“I get the impression she’s worried about something. She doesn’t seem to be as excited about this project as most others she’s taken on.”
Craig looked sideways at Savannah. “Has she said anything to you?”
“No, it’s what she doesn’t say that has me concerned.”
“Well, I can tell you that she’s working her butt off. She hopes to create a showplace for her talent and the fact that it will be open to the public—a bed and breakfast, you know—means there’ll be more opportunity for that.” He grinned at Savannah. “She’s probably just more focused than usual on the work because there’s more at stake.”
Savannah tilted her head. “Okay, if you say so. If you’re not worried, I’ll stop worrying.” When he started to stand, she said, “Oh Craig, did Michael tell you we found a bullet in our house?” She laughed. “Well, Lily found it.”
“Huh? No, where? Where did you find it?”
“Well, Michael says it’s a slug—you know, it was fired from a gun—and it was in that artificial ficus tree in the dining room. Auntie said she got that thing—believe it or not—at the old Kaiser place, where Iris is working, a long time ago.”
He rubbed one hand over his chin in contemplation, then shook his head. “Well, as I hear tell, there were some strange things occurring out there in the sixties, long before I joined the ranks of the department. There was scuttlebutt about gangsters using it as a hideout…things like that.” When he saw Savannah’s eyes widen, he said, “I didn’t take that seriously. There were no open cases at the time and Benjamin Kaiser had gone missing by then. It was believed that he was dropped into the ocean wearing cement boots.”
“So they closed the case on a missing person?” Savannah asked.
“Well, from what I hear, the sergeant at the time was up to his ears in a hornet’s nest of other problems, so his superiors seemed to think that gangsters killing gangsters should be pushed down low on his priority list. The trouble ceased when the Kaiser family moved to parts unknown and, well, you know—out of sight, out of mind.”
“Strange way to run a department.”
“Yeah, I guess. Sometimes, though, a case will slip through the cracks. It happens.” When Craig noticed Savannah staring off into space, he shifted in his cha
ir. “Uh-oh. What are you dreaming up?”
“Dreaming up?” she asked.
“Yeah, I can see the wheels turning. There’s something on your mind.”
“No, not really. I just have to wonder…”
“Wonder what?” he almost demanded.
“Well, maybe that old house holds secrets and Iris is tapping into some of them, either intuitively or in actuality.”
“Savannah, Savannah,” Craig said, letting out a deep sigh. He stood and walked toward the door. When Michael suddenly entered the room, Craig stepped back and the two men greeted each other. “Hey there Michael, you startled me!”
“Everything okay?” Michael asked, looking from Craig to Savannah.
“Sure is,” Craig said, “only…”
Michael cocked his head, a look of concern crossing his handsome face. “Only what?”
Craig chuckled. “Oh nothing. It’s just your wife’s imagination.”
“Oh, it’s on overdrive again, is it?” Michael asked playfully.
As the two men centered their attention on Savannah, she simply thinned her lips and stared back at them. “Thanks, Craig,” she said, “for talking to Kira. Let me know what you find out.”
“Sure will. Thanks for the tip. It may or may not pan out.”
****
The following Monday morning around eleven fifteen, Craig called Savannah’s cell phone.
“Do you know someone by the name of Troy Marston?”
Savannah pondered, then said, “I don’t think so, why?”
“He’s practically a neighbor of yours—lives over on Maple Street next to the Cranes.”
“I guess I haven’t met him. My aunt might know him—she knows several people over there. Wait, I think she just drove up; let me ask her. We’re on our way to lunch with Colbi and Iris—a sort of celebration for finding Mr. Kittleman.”
“Are the cats invited?” he asked.
“No, why?”
“Well, don’t you think they should get the credit? What did you gals do, anyway?”
“Oh Craig, those two have had enough freedom and excitement for one year. No, they’re grounded. Oh, here’s Auntie. Hey, do you know a Troy…” She asked into the phone, “Troy who?”
“Marston,” Craig said.
“Troy Marston,” Savannah repeated.
Margaret nodded. “Yeah, he lives over on Maple Street. He’s one of those who was ready to string up the cats for messing with his stuff. Why?”
“Did you hear that, Craig?”
“Yeah, let me talk to her, will ya?”
“Here, Auntie. Craig wants to talk to you. I’ll go get the punkin ready.” When she returned with Lily, Margaret had ended the call and Savannah took her phone. “So what was that all about?” she asked her aunt.
“I think Craig considers that jerk some sort of suspect.”
“In what?”
“Mr. Turner’s murder, presumably.”
“Wow, does he own a truck and look like Mr. Crane?”
Margaret shrugged. “Uh, I don’t know about a truck, but you know what? He is built kinda like that phony pastor.”
“Interesting,” Savannah said, picking up her tote bag. “Shall we go? We’re meeting the gals at the Prime Lodge.”
“How’s that little neighbor of yours?” Margaret asked as they drove along the highway toward the restaurant.
“Seems much better, poor little thing. I talked to her briefly yesterday when she brought Peaches an apple.” She laughed. “Off our tree, of course.”
“Funny. Reminds me of when I used to pick my grandmother’s flowers to put in a basket for her on May Day.” She focused on Savannah again. “So she’s relaxed some, has she?”
Savannah nodded. “She said her dad’s being nicer, but now she’s afraid they’re going to arrest him and put him in prison and she wonders who will bring money to the family.”
Margaret shook her head. “She’s a little worrywart, isn’t she?”
“Yes, I hope she outgrows it. What a burden for someone so young.” Savannah glanced at her purse. “That’s my phone, Auntie, will you get it? It could be Iris or Colbi changing plans.”
“It’s Kathryn,” she announced, “Mr. Kittleman’s niece. I recognize her number.” Into the phone, she said, “Hello Kathryn, this is Maggie Sheridan, Savannah’s aunt.” After a brief pause, she said, “Well, she’s driving right now and asked me to take the call. I’d be happy to pass along your message, or she can call you back.” After a brief conversation, she said, “Well, I sure will. Yes, thank you for calling.”
“What was that about?” Savannah asked.
“She wants to thank you and Colbi and the cats for finding their uncle. She said he’s doing okay. He’s staying with her sister now—he and his cat. And he seems to be doing well. She said they’re all stunned and grateful for the outpouring of love for the man.” She turned to face Savannah. “I nominated him as Grand Marshal in the Independence Day parade.”
“This year? Isn’t it kind of late? Don’t they pick the Grand Marshal a year in advance?”
“I don’t know. If not this year, then next. He would be a crowd-pleaser. Everyone would come out for Leo.”
“Here we are. Oh, there’s Iris and Colbi. Look how cute Colbi is with that little protruding belly.”
“Yeah, little is the operative word. I hope she doesn’t get very big; she’ll fall over.” After watching Savannah release Lily from her car seat, Margaret said, “Hey, now who’s Alice?”
“Alice?” Savannah said. “Oh, Alice is the homeless gal who took care of Mr. Kittleman down in the wash behind Colbi’s place. Why?”
“Kathryn said they want to help her get a place where she’ll be safer. She thought you’d like to know that.”
“Gosh, I wonder if Alice will budge. She seemed pretty content with her lifestyle. She has things worked out exactly how she wants them.”
“Who is content with her lifestyle?” Iris asked as they caught up with one another and entered the restaurant.
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Savannah said before responding to the hostess. “Four and a high chair, please.”
Once the women were seated and Lily was enjoying a cracker and a sippy cup of water, Iris asked, “Now, who were you talking about?”
“Alice,” Savannah said, “the homeless woman who was taking care of Mr. Kittleman.”
“It was Alice?” Colbi asked. She gestured with her hands. “Old, wrinkly, stooped, and rather cantankerous?”
Savannah laughed. “Yup, that’s her.” She tilted her head. “How do you know her?”
“When Damon and I did that big spread on the homeless last year for the newspaper, we interviewed her. She was down in the river bottom then. Where’s she living now?”
“In your neighborhood,” Savannah said grinning. “In the wash behind your house.”
Margaret laughed. “That ought to bring home prices down.”
“Oh, Maggie,” Iris said, “how would anyone know about her?”
“Well, now that Colbi knows, she would have to disclose it. Full disclosure is the law.”
“How do you know so much about real estate, all of a sudden?” Savannah asked.
“I know about a lot of things. I’m well-rounded,” Margaret declared. She turned to Colbi. “Well, Alice might not be living in your outback much longer, anyway.”
“Why?” Colbi asked.
“’Cause some people want to help her find a safer place to live.”
“Oh, she won’t move out of there,” Savannah said. “Craig talked to her about it and she just dug her boots in and said there’s nothing that would make her move. She wants to spend the rest of her days right there.”
Colbi shook her head. “It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? I mean, I like to go camping, but I’m always happy to come home where I can plug in my phone, watch a little TV, open the fridge and find food that’s safe to eat, a
nd sleep without fear of bears, bugs, and storms.”
“So what part of camping do you like, anyway?” Margaret asked.
Colbi thought for a moment before saying, “The s’mores.”
After a round of laughter, Iris said, “So how old is this Alice gal, anyway?”
“Hard to tell,” Savannah said. “What do you think, Colbi? Don’t you think she looks about ninety? But she could be a weathered seventy-five-year-old.”
“Right,” Colbi agreed.
Iris picked up her menu, then lowered it again. “How does she get her supplies… water… food?”
“Well, it’s interesting,” Savannah said. “Colbi and Damon might be supplying her with water.”
Colbi looked up from her menu. “What?”
“Yeah, she fills containers from neighborhood hoses. She also checks your trash barrels for useable items. She takes fabric from a quilter who lives a few streets over from you and uses it for bandages, among other things.”
“Resourceful,” Margaret said.
“Yeah, sounds like an interesting person,” Iris agreed.
Savannah peered impishly at the others and asked, “Do you guys want to meet her and see her place one day?”
Iris looked wide-eyed at the others. “Um…”
“Yeah, maybe she’d like you to do a renovation for her, Iris,” Margaret joked.
“We actually could take her some supplies,” Colbi suggested.
Margaret grinned. “Yeah, that would be the neighborly thing to do.”
“You’re all kidding, right?” Savannah challenged. “You don’t really want to hike down there, do you?”
“Why not?” Colbi challenged. “Yeah, now that I know she’s there, I kind of feel an obligation not to ignore her, know what I mean?”
“I guess it would be nice of us to thank her for taking care of Leo,” Margaret suggested.
“Hey, if you guys are going, so am I,” Iris said. She looked at Lily. “Not today, though, right? I mean, we shouldn’t take Lily down there.”
“Oh no,” Savanna said. “No. I wouldn’t take her.” She looked at the others. “Michael’s off tomorrow. Want to go buy some food and take it to her tomorrow morning?”
The other three looked from one to the other, finally all agreeing to the outing.