Tie Died

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Tie Died Page 16

by Carol Dean Jones

“You are pursuing your own investigation and compromising ours.” He said with thinly veiled anger. “There’s a note in the Burgess file that Shields had considered arresting the two of you for interfering with a police investigation. I was astonished when I first saw that notation. Now I’m beginning to understand it.”

  “Could you please tell us what you think we’ve done wrong,” Sophie asked with indignation.

  “Well, for one thing, I just picked you up in front of the café where you were actively interviewing our witness, not to mention a person of interest to the department.”

  “A person of interest?” Sarah spoke up for the first time. “Are you looking at Millie for Andy’s murder? But you arrested her husband, right?”

  “Mrs. Miller. Everything you just asked me is police business. I will not be answering you. And you and your friend are forbidden to go near Mrs. Lake or her husband.”

  “What?” Sophie shouted. “We are ‘forbidden’? Do you realize that Millie Lake is a friend of mine and has been for years? Who are you to forbid me. I absolutely refuse to stay away from my friend, and I would like to see what law you have that would permit you to tell me to do otherwise,” Sophie stood up to leave.

  “Okay, Mrs. Ward, calm down. I’ll admit I misspoke when I said ‘forbidden.’ I shouldn’t have said that, and I apologize.” He still looked annoyed but seemed to be trying to restrain himself. “What I mean to say is this. Would you two women please just step down and let us do our job?” Sophie returned to her chair reluctantly.

  “And are you doing that job?” Sophie asked, clearly still irritated.

  “Trust me, Mrs. Ward. We’re doing our job. That’s how we happen to know you’re interfering with it. I can’t say any more than that and can only hope you’ll honor my request.”

  “Humph.” Sophie straightened her jacket and moved her purse to the opposite arm. She didn’t look at the detective.

  “I’m saying this for your own good, as well. You could be placing yourselves in danger.” Sarah remembered Charles saying the same thing. Maybe they should listen.

  Detective Gabriel asked Officer Holmes to drive the women back to the café, or to their homes if they preferred. Amanda led them to the squad car without speaking until they got in. She then turned to them and said, “Sorry about all that, ladies. He’s a very nice man-nothing like Detective Shields. It’s always hard when we’re trying to solve several cases and keep innocent people safe at the same time. I hope you will listen to him.”

  “We will,” Sarah said contritely.

  Sophie poked Sarah and whispered, “Speak for yourself, kiddo. I have information about the scruffy man.”

  Chapter 41

  When Sarah answered the phone, Charles began the conversation by asking, “Did you hear the news about your friend’s husband?”

  “Well, hello and a very good morning to you, too, my friend,” Sarah responded. She then added curiously, “What news?”

  “Okay. I’m sorry. I sometimes have a one-track mind when it comes to crimes and the justice system.” Charles continued, “They had Lake’s preliminary hearing yesterday, and the judge ruled there was insufficient evidence. They let him go.”

  “I guess that lawyer you recommended knew what he was doing,” Sarah responded. “I knew he was innocent.”

  “Wait, Sarah. This doesn’t mean he’s innocent. It simply means the judge listened to the prosecution’s case and didn’t think the police had enough evidence to convict him. That’s all it means. You continue to stay out of it, okay?”

  “Sure, Charles. Of course,” Sarah said innocently. “Would you like some breakfast?”

  “I’ll be right over,” Charles responded enthusiastically.

  “But I don’t want to talk about the case, okay?” Sarah added, fearing he might ask about her involvement. She didn’t want to admit to him what she and Sophie were up to.

  An hour later the phone rang again. This time it was Sophie calling. “Is that lover boy’s car I see over there?” she asked accusingly.

  “Yes, Sophie. We’re having breakfast.”

  “You aren’t telling him about. ...”

  “No, Sophie. Our plans are still on. I’ll see you around five.” Sarah cut the conversation short.

  “What’s that all about?” Charles asked when she got off the phone.

  “Oh, that was just Sophie. We might do dinner ...” She hated lying to him. Actually, she wished he could go with them, but she knew he would object. It had to be done, so she quickly changed the subject. “Say. It’s a beautiful day. Would you like to drive over by the river and take Barney for a walk? There’s a nature walk along the bank that I think you would enjoy.”

  “Great idea.” Charles said, “And Barney will love it. He’s been a bit housebound lately. For that matter, so have I.” Sarah was rinsing the dishes for the dishwasher. Charles came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back and settled into his embrace, which felt safe and caring. She slid around in his arms until she was facing him, and they melted into their first deep, loving kiss. Sarah rested her head on his chest, and they stood there quietly lost in the pleasure and in their own thoughts.

  Later, as Sarah and Charles walked along the river path hand in hand, they didn’t say much. There was a cool breeze, but the sun was warm and inviting. They took Barney’s leash off when they came to a more isolated area and watched him leap around with excitement. He never got far from his family, always turning to make sure they were in sight. “He’s really settled in, hasn’t he?” Charles said. “You would never know he had been living on the street.”

  “I’m not sure he was on the street very long. He was so easy to train. I think he had a home at some point, or at least someone who loved him.”

  “How old is he?” Charles asked.

  “No one really knows, but the vet thinks he might be around seven or eight.” They had walked over a mile before they decided they should turn back. “Barney, come.” He didn’t come right away, so they headed toward where he was sniffing. Barney had wandered off the path and into the brush that divided the nature path from the old abandoned railroad tracks. Barney pushed through the grasses and disappeared into the overgrowth. “Barney, come here,” Sarah demanded.

  They followed him and immediately found themselves in a clearing, where they noticed several tarps tied to trees forming shelters. There was a rock fire pit and blankets and newspapers on the ground creating what Sarah thought might be sleeping areas. Barney was sniffing everywhere, and his tail was wagging wildly. “I wonder what Barney is so excited about,” Sarah exclaimed. Turning to Charles, she asked, “Do you suppose people are actually living back here?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. There’s no place in town for the homeless, and they have to sleep somewhere.”

  “I thought there was a shelter. Millie said Amanda told her about a shelter here in town.”

  “That’s just for women and children,” Charles responded. “There’s nothing for men.”

  Sarah looked at him briefly with sorrow in her eyes. She then turned and called to Barney, “Come on, Barney. Let’s go home.” Barney left the area reluctantly. He was especially interested in an old flannel shirt tossed over a tree limb. Sarah snapped the leash on Barney, and the three made their way back to the path and started home. Sarah was very quiet.

  “Are you okay?” Charles asked.

  “Yes. I was just wondering what it must be like to live like that.” They walked back to the car hand in hand. At the car, Sarah took two treats from her pocket and gave them to Barney. “You’ve been a good dog, Barney.” He licked her hand and looked at her with love, but then he glanced longingly down the path they had just taken.

  When they got home, Charles didn’t go inside. He stopped by his car and pulled her to him for a gentle good-night kiss. They hadn’t talked about the earlier kiss, but Sarah felt it would not be their last.

  * * * * *

  “I think we should take Barney
with us,” Sarah told Sophie. Then she added, “Are you sure we should be doing this?”

  “Of course we should.” It was dusk as they drove away from the house.

  “I went there this morning,” Sarah said casually.

  “You what?” Sophie said, turning to Sarah abruptly. “What do you mean, ‘you went there?’”

  “Charles and I took a walk along the river, and Barney led us into the clearing.”

  “You didn’t tell Charles what we’re doing, did you?” Sophie asked accusingly.

  “Of course not, Sophie. He would have stopped us. He would say we shouldn’t be doing this ... and we both know we shouldn’t ...”

  “... and we both know we have to do it.” Sophie finished Sarah’s sentence.

  “Yes, we do,” Sarah said softly. Barney stretched his neck over the back of the seat and licked Sarah’s cheek. “I love you, too, Barney. Lie down.” She was glad she was bringing the dog.

  “So, tell me about it,” Sophie said as they drove to the river.

  “Well,” Sarah responded, “I’m just glad I’ve been there because I’m not sure we could find it in the dark. It’s off the path back by the tracks. We might have spotted it if they have a fire going, but otherwise, I doubt it.”

  As they approached the parking area, Sarah said, “Let’s drive on up the road and look for a closer place to park. We walked a long way before we came to it.” Sarah knew Sophie wouldn’t be able to walk that far. Sophie’s knees and ankles were succumbing to arthritis, but she refused to use a cane or walker. They found a place to park, and there was even an access path with a sign pointing to the nature walk. Although it was still dusk, once they got to the path in the trees, it was dark. Sophie turned on her flashlight, and Barney led the way. He seemed to know exactly where they were going.

  “When do you think the men come?”

  “I would guess they get here before dark. You rarely see homeless people on the streets at night.”

  Barney started pulling at the leash and was very excited. Sarah kept him restrained, but he was eager to get loose. He headed straight for the clearing and practically dragged Sarah behind. “Slow down, Barney,” she pleaded, but he continued on.

  “Rusty,” an old man yelled as they entered the clearing with Barney in the lead. He fell to the ground with his arms around the dog. “Welcome home, buddy. We’ve sure missed you.” Barney licked his face wildly and wagged his whole body. “Where did you find him?” the man asked Sarah. Sarah stood in shock.

  “You know this dog?” she asked.

  “Sure. This is Rusty. He hangs out with us. He’s been with us since he was a little bit of a thing. We found him behind the dumpster over by Barney’s Bar & Grill.” Turning to Barney, the man repeated, “Welcome home, buddy.”

  Sophie stood to the side not knowing what to say. Sarah, as well, was dumbfounded. This isn’t what they came for.

  “Where did you find him?” the man repeated.

  “I got him at the pound,” Sarah said. “He’s been living with me for a while now.”

  “Well, he’s sure been eating. Look at them ribs, Buck,” he said turning to the other man in the clearing. “He’s all filled out like he should be. You could count them ribs when he was with us,” he added with a chuckle.

  Sarah was sure the man was going to want him back, but she decided to put that aside for the time being and get on with the reason they came. “Do you know a Bob Pickett?” she asked. “By the way,” she added. “I’m Sarah, and this is my friend, Sophie.”

  “Okay. What do you want with Bob?” the man asked, not introducing himself.

  “We want to talk to him about a friend of his, Andy Burgess.”

  The man looked down and scratched the toe of his shoe around in the dirt. “What do you want to talk to him about Andy for?”

  “We just want to talk. Andy was a good friend of ours, and we’re trying to find out what happened to him.” There was a small fire going in the fire pit. Two more men had entered the clearing from the railroad side. They made no noise and had obviously been waiting there. Sarah was beginning to realize this was a stupid thing for two women to do.

  “What makes you think we know anything?” one of the men spoke up. Sarah looked at him as he moved out of the shadows. It was the scruffy man from the funeral. Sophie looked at her, and Sarah saw fear in her eyes. She didn’t want the men to see it and was determined to remain strong herself. She didn’t want them to sense her own fear.

  “I don’t know whether you do or not. We’ve just been talking to the people who knew Andy, the people who cared about him, hoping to find someone who knows what might have happened.” She realized her hand was shaking, and she slipped it into her pocket. She was holding the leash with the other hand and gently guided Barney closer to herself. She realized, though, that if these men were to attack, she didn’t know that Barney would help her since they were his friends as well. Actually, she didn’t know if he would attack at all, he was such a gentle dog. The fire crackled. Everyone was quiet.

  Finally the scruffy man spoke up. “I’m Bob,” he said. “We all knew Andy.” Everyone remained quiet. Sarah knew she needed to speak but didn’t know what to say. Finally Sophie found her voice and spoke up.

  “How did you know him?” she asked, not addressing anyone in particular. Again, there was quiet. Three of the men looked at Bob as if he were the person who should answer.

  “I stop in at the AA meeting in town once in a while,” Bob said, looking embarrassed. “Not that it helps much,” he snorted.

  “I wouldn’t say it helps you much,” one of the men said with a snicker. The other men laughed.

  “Okay guys. Lay off,” the scruffy man said with a frown. “Well, I met this Andy fellow there. He treated me like a regular guy, you know? He took me out for coffee after the meetings, and we talked just like normal people do. He made me feel good. We talked about our lives back when things were good. We told each other things we couldn’t talk to other people about. I miss Andy. I went to his funeral, but I felt out of place and left right after the service.” Sarah saw him there and felt sorry that she hadn’t spoken to him. How often do special people cross our paths and remain unnoticed? she wondered.

  Sarah saw a fallen tree nearby and knew Sophie’s legs must be hurting. “Would it be okay for my friend and me to sit down?” she asked.

  “Sure,” one man said as he grabbed a blanket and spread it over a downed tree trunk for them. Sarah began to relax, realizing they were, most likely, in no danger. Sophie looked relieved to sit but said she would probably need help getting back up. The men assured her they would help. Sarah saw the fear had faded from Sophie’s eyes.

  The strange group sat around the fire and drank coffee out of tin cans. It was, by far, the worst coffee Sarah had ever tasted. She had boiled coffee grounds to make hobo coffee once many years ago just to see what it tasted like. This was even worse. But she was pleased they were talking. All the men had something to add about Andy. He had been to the clearing many times, bringing food and staying to eat with them. They all considered him a friend, but Bob seemed especially close to Andy.

  The women stayed another hour sharing stories about Andy at first and learning about each other later. The men listened with interest as Sarah talked about losing her husband so suddenly. One of the men had lost his entire family in a tornado out west. He had traveled here to get away from the memories. “... but those dang things just follow you wherever you go,” he had said, looking down as he spoke.

  At some point, it became clear the men were spiking their coffee with whiskey, and they offered some to the women. Sarah thanked them but said she was driving. Sophie accepted with a smile but asked for just a little. Once she relaxed, Sophie told one of her raucous stories and had everyone howling with laughter. It was a good evening.

  As they were preparing to leave, Sarah again wondered about Barney. He was off leash now and lying by the fire, looking right at home. As she stood, how
ever, he stood, too. As she moved to leave the clearing, he was right at her heel. Sarah looked at the man who called him Rusty, and he just nodded his approval. She mouthed “thank you,” and they headed out of the clearing and up the path by moonlight.

  Chapter 42

  “Your quilt is beautiful, Sarah. Let’s hang it up in the shop.” Sarah had wanted to take it home and see it on her couch, but if Ruth was willing to display it, that was quite an honor. “I want to show people what they can do with just a class or two. So many people come in and say they could never make a quilt, and just look what you did with hardly any experience.” Ruth was very pleased with Sarah’s work, and the machine quilter had done an exquisite job of quilting.

  “Okay,” Sarah said. “But let me take it now and bring it back in a couple of days. I really want to see it with my couch and show it to a couple of my friends.”

  “Of course. You take it home for as long as you want, Sarah. I know you must be very proud of this yourself. It’s beautiful workmanship. How about I just borrow it from you the next time I run an advertisement for a class, okay?”

  “Perfect,” Sarah responded as she bundled it up to take home. She realized that her eyes were already scanning the bolts looking for that next quilt. “The next one I make will be for my bed,” she said. Sarah headed for the pattern wall and thumbed through the books. She found one that particularly attracted her attention; however, it was not in colors she usually liked. For some reason, the quilt made her think of Charles.

  “What can you tell me about this quilt?” she asked Ruth when the other customers had left.

  “That’s a civil war reproduction quilt. It’s made from a pattern that was popular during the Civil War, and it’s pieced using Civil War—reproduction fabrics.”

  “Do you carry the fabrics?” Sarah asked.

  “Not those specific ones, but the fabrics in that section over there are all Civil War reproductions.”

  Sarah felt herself getting excited about the idea. A Civil War quilt would be a perfect gift for Charles. She had been thinking about making him a quilt at some point, but everything she looked at was so flowery and feminine. She hadn’t even noticed the Civil War fabrics in the corner of the shop. “You might want to take this book,” Ruth suggested. “It has your pattern and good instructions, but it also has a section on Civil War quilts that’s interesting and well researched.”

 

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