Paw jumped back, pulling his leg out of the gap and sat on his haunches just before Saber poked his head out from behind the wardrobe. The cat slinked out, twitched his tail then turned and poked his head back in the gap. “Meow!”
More rustling sounded from behind the wardrobe. “All right,” the young boy’s voice grumbled. “I’m coming.”
I held my breath as I waited to see the child emerge. Slowly, tousled brown curls peeked from behind the wardrobe and the young boy lifted his head and scowled at those of us standing in the hallway. Saber pulled his head from the gap and sat down while Paw leaned forward and slurped the boy’s face.
He giggled, reached up with a small hand, and wiped his face, saying, “That tickles.”
Harry poked my arm and jerked his head toward the little boy, indicating I should take the lead. I slowly knelt by Paw and placed my hand on his back. “Hi there. This is my dog, Paw. He’d like you to come out and play with him.”
“Woof.”
“My name is Clarissa. What’s yours?”
The boy stared solemnly at me. “Taylor.” He edged closer to Paw and put a tentative hand on Paw’s broad chest. “He sure is a big dog.”
“He’s a St. Bernard. They get big although Paw is large for his breed.”
Paw sniffed at the boy’s curls and nuzzled him, eliciting more giggles from the child.
The boy crawled out from behind the wardrobe and I got a good look at him. The child was small which explained how he could fit behind the wardrobe. I glanced over my shoulder at the others to see Jon Kenyon’s irritated scowl dissolve into a look of concern and Jill cover her mouth with her hand in a gesture of dismay.
I turned back to Taylor. “Where’s your family? Your parents?”
The boy shrugged. “They’re dead.”
Behind me, Jill gasped.
Taylor looked up at the others and began to edge back toward the wardrobe.
Before I could do anything, Paw lay down on his side and rolled on his back, woofing for attention.
It worked.
The boy shifted his attention back to Paw and reached out to rub his belly. Saber, not wanting to relinquish the boy’s attention, hurried over to rub against his side. While the cat and dog held his attention, I stood up and moved over to speak to Bruce and Harry.
“There you are.”
As a group we turned to see Lillian marching toward us, Mark following behind. Jon Kenyon and Jill edged to the side to let Lillian pass. I turned back to the young boy to see his reaction and found that he had placed a protective arm around Paw and Saber.
“Were you two ditching me?” Lillian stopped a few feet in front of Bruce, Harry, and me. She stood with her hands on her hips.
Mark strolled up, saying, “Us.”
“What?” Lillian asked.
“Us. Were they trying to ditch us? Not just you.”
Before they could continue bickering, Saber meowed, drawing Lillian’s attention. “Saber?”
The cat stood up from where he had been sitting next to the young boy and waved his tail in greeting.
Lillian raised an eyebrow as she saw Saber and Paw comforting the young boy. “Who are you, young man?”
I expected the boy to shrink back, but instead, he gazed at her with a quizzical expression. “My name is Taylor. How do you know Saber?”
Lillian huffed. “Because he’s my cat.”
“No, he’s not. He’s my friend.”
Mark chuckled behind Lillian. “Looks like your cat likes somebody else now.”
Lillian ignored him and stepped over to Taylor. “He may be your friend, but Saber is my cat. What are you doing here at the theater?”
Taylor shrugged.
“Cat got your tongue?” Lillian crossed her arms. “You look hungry. Why don’t we go find something to eat?”
“Can Saber and Paw come too?”
Lillian shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” She looked at Paw. “Come on, you, big galoot.” She gestured with her hand then turned on her heel and started walking away from us. Taylor stood up, bent down and picked up Saber, and nestled him in his arms. With his other hand, he grasped Paw’s leash and followed Lillian.
“Ah, Lillian?” I said. “Where are you going?”
Lillian waved her hand, saying over her shoulder, “To get something to eat of course.”
“But where?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Mark scratched his ear and watched Lillian retreat with Taylor and the pets following her. “I suppose I better follow her.”
And so, he did. Leaving the rest of us standing around wondering what just happened.
Harry sighed. “We need to find out where Taylor came from. If he doesn’t have any family, I’m going to have to call child protective services.”
“No!” Jill shook her head. “That seems so cruel.”
“I have to follow the law,” Harry said.
Jon Kenyon placed an arm around Jill’s shoulders. “He wasn’t causing any harm here at the theater. I have no intention of pressing charges.”
“I still have to call child protective services.”
I touched Harry’s arm. “Why not speak with the church ladies first? Perhaps they know the young man’s family or can find them.”
“I can do that.”
Bruce crossed his arms. “What do we do now?”
I gazed after Lillian. “Follow Lillian. I want to know more about Taylor.”
“You don’t think he has anything to do with the murder, do you?”
“No.”
Harry, who had walked over to the wardrobe and peered behind it, shook his head. “The only way that poor boy could fit back here was if he was starved. Who could do such a thing to a child?”
“I’d like to find out,” I said.
Harry glanced over his shoulder at me. “I will take care of it. I don’t want you tracking down someone who would do that to a child. Too dangerous.”
“I’ll leave it to you, uncle. But I want to find out what we can do to help Taylor. I know you have to report it to child protective services, but I feel he would be safer with one of the church ladies or Lillian or Alma.”
Harry grunted, but didn’t contradict me.
Bruce grasped my hand. “Let’s catch up with Lillian. See you later Harry.” He saluted Harry and tugged gently on my hand.
Together we left the theater, nodding to Jon and Jill as we passed them. Lillian and Mark were on the sidewalk, arguing over who-knew-what, while Taylor, Paw, and Saber watched, their heads ping-ponging back and forth between the two combatants.
Bruce wedged between them, and with his superior height, separated them. “Why not let Taylor sit in back with Paw and Saber while the two of you sit up front?”
I raised a quizzical brow at Bruce, wondering what he was talking about.
Taylor saw my expression and said, “They were arguing about whether she should sit in the back or not.”
Lillian opened her mouth, no doubt to continue the argument, but Bruce reached around her and opened the front passenger door to Mark’s sedan. “Ladies first.”
Lillian glared at Mark but sat down in the front passenger seat. Bruce slammed the door and opened the back for Taylor and the dog and cat to scramble in. Paw jumped in first and Taylor settled on the seat next to him with the cat in his lap.
Bruce turned around and scowled at Mark. “That’s poor behavior, arguing with a little old lady.”
Mark snorted. “Little old lady, my butt.” He brushed past Bruce and went around to the front of his car and got in, slamming his door. He started the engine and pulled away from the curb.
As they drove off, Taylor waved from the back window.
“You didn’t ask where they were going,” I pointed out.
Bruce rubbed his chin. “I assume they’re going to the church.” He strode to his car and I ran to catch up, hoping that he was right.
Chapter 16
As we pulled into the church pa
rking lot a few minutes later, I was relieved to see Mark’s sedan parked in the lot nearest the church kitchen.
We met up with Lillian, Mark, Taylor, and the pets in the kitchen of the church. While Violet and Marcy were putting away the leftovers from the church luncheon, Lillian bustled around the kitchen preparing sandwiches for Taylor. Mark sat at the island on a stool, picking at a leftover veggie tray.
Taylor sat on the stool next to him and nibbled on chunks of cheese.
“We have any of those oatmeal raisin cookies left?” Lillian asked.
To my surprise, Taylor answered, “They’re in the cookie jar on the top shelf.”
Mark nudged Taylor. “Oatmeal raisin cookies. Yum.”
Taylor, however, ignored Mark, instead staring with wide, frightened eyes at the rest of us, who were observing him with curious expressions.
“Taylor, how do you know where the cookies are?” I asked as I sat down on the stool next to him. Lillian paused in the act of reaching for the cookie jar, and Violet, who was taller, turned and helped her lift the jar down.
“Taylor,” I said, placing an arm around his shoulders, “How do you know the cookies were there? Have you been in this kitchen before?”
Bruce, who obviously was thinking the same thing as me, walked around the island, leaned forward, and placed his arms on the tabletop. He stared at Taylor. “Are you the one who has been taking food from the church?”
Violet fumbled the cookie jar and thanks to Lillian and Marcy’s quick reflexes, it didn’t fall to the floor. “Is it true?”
Taylor nodded meekly to Violet. “I was hungry. There was nowhere else to get food. I tried behind the dumpsters at the grocery store, but they hadn’t thrown anything edible out. My mom always used to say the church helped you if you needed it.”
Violet stretched across Mark, placing three large oatmeal raisin cookies on the plate in front of Taylor. “That is true, but you could have come to us and asked for food. We wouldn’t have turned you away. There was no reason to steal the food, and you’re going to have to replace the window you broke.”
Tears formed in Taylor’s eyes. “But I don’t have any money.”
Lillian brought a platter of sandwiches over and placed them between Taylor and Mark. “Never you mind that. I’ll pay for the window repair.” She scowled at Violet.
Mark chewed and swallowed his mouth full of food then leaned over to Taylor. “Did you hunt or break-in for food anywhere else?”
Taylor slid a glance to Mark. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I thought of the cafe in town. You know the one. Harriet’s Eats. She’s got the most delicious Danish I have ever tasted.”
Lillian reached across the island and swatted Mark on his shoulder. “Don’t go putting ideas in the boy’s head.”
Taylor giggled at the shocked expression on Mark’s face. “Are you sure you haven’t stolen food from Harriet’s?”
Lillian laughed. “He’s got you there, reporterman.” She pointed a finger at Mark. “You’re not the only one that can ask questions, now, are you?”
“Lillian,” Violet said, “leave Mark alone.” She turned to the young man. “Taylor, right?” Taylor nodded his head. “It’s important to be honest. We don’t fault you for looking for food when you’re starving, but you could have come to us for help. We’ll gladly feed you, but it’s unlawful to take food from us or any of the other businesses. We need to know if you did that or stayed other places to sleep so that Chief Harry can settle things with the other business owners and file his reports.”
Taylor’s eyes widened. “Am I in trouble for staying at the theater?”
I laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “No, it’ll be all right because of Jon Kenyon and Jill, that’s the director and actress who were at the theater with us. They’re not pressing charges and the church isn’t going to press charges either.” I cast a significant look to Violet who nodded in agreement. “We do need to know where you stayed, and if you took any food or other items from the places you were at.”
Taylor glanced around the room at us. He bent his head and using one finger shuffled the cookies around on his plate. “I slept in the little room off the kitchen here for two nights. It has the comfiest leather sofa and I only meant to stay a moment while I had my cookies, but it was so warm that I fell asleep.”
Bruce moved his hand to catch Taylor’s eye. “Anywhere else? It’s important.”
Taylor shook his head in the negative. “No. Why do you keep asking me that? Was somewhere else broken into or something stolen?”
Marcy, who had been observing the conversation, stood with her arms crossed. “That’s a good question, young man. And I’d like an answer for that.” She glared at Bruce and me.
“We know of one other place that was broken into,” I said as I glanced over to Bruce with a raised eyebrow as if to say should we tell them.
“Are you referring to the break-in at the thrift shop?” Marcy asked. “Because as I understand it nothing was stolen, just items thrown around the shop.”
“You heard about it?” I asked.
Lillian cackled. “Of course, she has. We all have. You can’t keep a secret in this town.”
“I didn’t do it,” Taylor said, jumping up and half stumbling over Paw, while Saber jumped from the boy’s lap at his sudden movement.
Paw, sensing the boy’s agitation, stood up and woofed, trying to calm him.
“You can’t pin any theft on me.” Taylor glanced right and left, looking ready to escape at any moment.
Behind him Pastor Matt stepped through the door to the kitchen and placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Not to worry, son. They don’t believe you stole anything, and I will back you up if they do.”
The boy jerked under the pastor’s hand then settled and giggled when Saber scampered up the pastor’s leg and climbed to his shoulders.
“Oh.” Pastor Matt jerked at Saber’s sudden movement but stayed on his feet and stood patiently while Saber nuzzled his ear.
Paw, not wanting to miss the action, trotted over and flopped down over the pastor and Taylor’s feet.
Taylor bent over in laughter and pet Paw while Saber yelled his displeasure at being ignored.
The pastor settled his posture, keeping a gentle hand on Taylor’s shoulder, and said, “Let Taylor stay here with me and we’ll have a late lunch and discuss his family.” He nodded to me. “Tell Harry where he is and that I will speak with child protective services and perhaps we can convince them to leave Taylor in my care until we find his family.”
Taylor shook his head. “What if you can’t find them?”
The pastor looked down at him. “Then we will find you a new family.”
Lillian walked over and handed Taylor a glass of milk then she nudged Mark in the ribs with a finger, saying, “Come on, reporterman. We have to get back on the case.” She marched for the door, obviously expecting Mark to follow. To my surprise he got up, grabbed a handful of cookies that he stuffed in his coat pockets, and followed her to the door.
Bruce placed a hand on my lower back and whispered to me, “Let’s let the pastor take care of things.”
I nodded and turned, calling to Paw. “Come on, boy.”
Paw gazed at me with a mulish expression which I took to mean he wasn’t going to leave Taylor.
The pastor waved us away. “Paw will be fine with us, won’t he, Taylor?”
Taylor, wearing a huge grin, continued to rub Paw’s back. “You want to stay here with me, don’t you, boy?”
“Woof.”
I felt a pang of envy to know that my dog, who was always devoted to me, was content to stay with Taylor. But I knew Paw, and I knew that he took his caring role very seriously.
“Okay. See you later, boy.” I waved to him as Bruce and I left.
Mark and Lillian waited by Mark’s car with Lillian tapping her foot impatiently. “You two ditched us earlier. I assume that you found that young couple and already ques
tioned them, so who are we interviewing next.”
Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are we going to let you help us investigate? Wouldn’t you prefer to find a good family for Taylor?”
Lillian snorted. “I like the church ladies and they do good work. That boy is in good hands, but you’re not getting rid of me so easily, Bruce Sever.”
Mark coughed to cover up his laughter.
Lillian glared at him then said, “If you two are not going to let me participate, I’ll go find Tammy Williams and speak with her.”
Since the last time Lillian and Tammy had a conversation it ended in an argument, I spoke before Bruce could refuse her. “Let’s go talk to that artist friend of Charlotte’s. Maybe you can get more information out of him than I did.”
Lillian clapped her hands together with a gleeful expression. She climbed into Mark’s car, frantically motioning for him to do the same. He shook his head and got in, started up the car, and drove away, leaving Bruce and I to follow.
“Does she know where to find the artist?” Bruce asked as he led the way to his car.
“My guess is she figures that he’ll be at the artist studio. This time I think her guess may be right so that’s where we’ll start.”
Mark and Lillian drove a distance ahead of us, heading toward the artist studio. As we neared the center of town, a truck pulled in front of us, causing us to lose sight of Mark and Lillian.
“I can’t see them,” Bruce said. “Can you see around the truck from your side?”
I leaned my head against the window but couldn’t see so I rolled down the window and stuck my head out. “I can’t see anything.”
We followed the truck a block where it turned to the right, clearing our view, but Mark and Lillian were gone. “That truck moved so slowly I imagine they got head of us. We’ll probably find them at the studio.”
Bruce grunted, but didn’t comment. Before long we parked in the lot for the artist studio, but I saw no sign of Mark and Lillian. “Now, where are they?”
Bruce looked around. “Odd. There aren’t any other cars parked here.”
Sigh. “Yeah,” I said absently. “I thought sure Lillian was coming here. Let’s go check if Turner is in while we’re here.”
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